"I do not mean to be idle."

"What is it you do mean, Phineas?"

"Why simply this. Here I am in Parliament. We must take that as a
fact."

"I don't doubt the fact."

"And if it be a misfortune, we must make the best of it. Even you
wouldn't advise me to apply for the Chiltern Hundreds at once."

"I would;--to-morrow. My dear fellow, though I do not like to give
you pain, if you come to me I can only tell you what I think. My
advice to you is to give it up to-morrow. Men would laugh at you for
a few weeks, but that is better than being ruined for life."

"I can't do that," said Phineas, sadly.

"Very well;--then let us go on," said Mr. Low. "If you won't give up
your seat, the next best thing will be to take care that it shall
interfere as little as possible with your work. I suppose you must
sit upon some Committees."

"My idea is this,--that I will give up one year to learning the
practices of the House."

"And do nothing?"

"Nothing but that. Why, the thing is a study in itself. As for
learning it in a year, that is out of the question. But I am
convinced that if a man intends to be a useful member of Parliament,
he should make a study of it."

"And how do you mean to live in the meantime?" Mr. Low, who was an
energetic man, had assumed almost an angry tone of voice. Phineas for
awhile sat silent;--not that he felt himself to be without words for
a reply, but that he was thinking in what fewest words he might best
convey his ideas. "You have a very modest allowance from your father,
on which you have never been able to keep yourself free from debt,"
continued Mr. Low.

"He has increased it."

"And will it satisfy you to live here, in what will turn out to be
parliamentary club idleness, on the savings of his industrious life?
I think you will find yourself unhappy if you do that. Phineas, my
dear fellow, as far as I have as yet been able to see the world, men
don't begin either very good or very bad. They have generally good
aspirations with infirm purposes;--or, as we may say, strong bodies
with weak legs to carry them. Then, because their legs are weak, they
drift into idleness and ruin. During all this drifting they are
wretched, and when they have thoroughly drifted they are still
wretched. The agony of their old disappointment still clings to them.
In nine cases out of ten it is some one small unfortunate event that
puts a man astray at first. He sees some woman and loses himself with
her;-