The public mind was now awake, and understood
what it was about. When a man gets into his head an idea that the
public voice calls for him, it is astonishing how greet becomes his
trust in the wisdom of the public. _Vox populi, vox Dei._ "Has it not
been so always?" he says to himself, as he gets up and as he goes to
bed. And then Mr. Supplehouse felt that he was the master mind there
at Gatherum Castle, and that those there were all puppets in his
hand. It is such a pleasant thing to feel that one's friends are
puppets, and that the strings are in one's own possession. But what
if Mr. Supplehouse himself were a puppet? Some months afterwards,
when the much-belaboured head of affairs was in very truth made
to retire, when unkind shells were thrown in against him in great
numbers, when he exclaimed, "_Et tu, Brute!_" till the words were
stereotyped upon his lips, all men in all places talked much about
the great Gatherum Castle confederation. The Duke of Omnium, the
world said, had taken into his high consideration the state of
affairs, and seeing with his eagle's eye that the welfare of
his countrymen at large required that some great step should be
initiated, he had at once summoned to his mansion many members of the
Lower House, and some also of the House of Lords,--mention was here
especially made of the all-venerable and all-wise Lord Boanerges; and
men went on to say that there, in deep conclave, he had made known
to them his views.
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