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RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
PRINTED BY A. J. VAIPY, RED LIOX COURT, Ff-tl-T STRKET. 
 
RANK AND TALENT; 
 
 A NOVEL. 
 
 AUTHOR OF " TRUCKLEBOROUGH-HALL. 
 
 When once he 's made a Lord, 
 Who '11 be so saucy as to think he can 
 Be impotent in wisdom ? Cook. 
 
 Why, Sir, 'tis neither satire nor moral, but the mere passage 
 of an history ; yet there are a sort of discontented creatures, 
 that bear a stingless envy to great ones, and tliese will wrest 
 the doings of any man to their base malicious appliment. 
 
 Marston. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 HENRY COLBURN, NEW BURLINGTON STREET. 
 
 1829. 
 
823 
 
 V. 2. 
 
 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " Law is the world's great light, a second sun 
 To this terrestrial globe, by which all things 
 Have life and being ; and without which 
 Confusion and disorder soon would seize 
 The general state of men." Barry. 
 
 1 HE Summer assizes for the county of , in 
 
 the year 18 . ., excited in the county-town where 
 they were held rather more than the usual sen- 
 sation ; but in the remote and smaller town of 
 Brigland, they roused a stirring interest. Long 
 before the day of the trial, every vehicle which 
 
 VOL. I. A 
 
2 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 could be hired was eugaged to carry the curious 
 to the assizes, to hear the action brought by poor 
 old Richard Smith against the Hon. Philip 
 Martindale, for an assault and false imprison- 
 ment. The defendant was by no means popu- 
 lar at Brigland, and there were circumstances, 
 which rendered the injury done to the plaiutiff 
 peculiarly hard and oppressive; and whenever 
 the sympathy of the multitude is with the poor 
 oppressed against the rich oppressor, that sym- 
 pathy is very strong, and indignation is not 
 choice in the terms of its expression, nor does 
 cool deliberation precede judgment. It was the 
 common, and almost universal wish, that the 
 defendant might have to pay heavy damages ; 
 and that he might hear from the lips of the 
 plaintiff's counsel some home truths, which 
 might mortify his pride, and abate his arro- 
 gance. 
 
 In addition to the excitement which this 
 action produced, there was also another, though 
 smaller stimulus to curiosity, in the first appear-, 
 ance on the circuit of a young barrister, who 
 was a native of the town in which the assizes 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 3 
 
 were held. These two circumstances, therefore, 
 filled the court at an early hour with anxious 
 and curious expectants. 
 
 The plaintiff's attorney had put his brief into 
 the hands of the youn^ barrister ; the defendant 
 had retained a more experienced advocate, one 
 well versed in the theory of the law, and, what 
 is far more to the purpose, deeply skilled in the 
 ways of the world, and the practice of courts — 
 one who had the professionally desirable art of 
 mystifying a jury, and of persuading twelve 
 men out of their senses — one who would be sure 
 of every cause he undertook, were it not for the 
 summing up of the judge — one who, by means 
 of a loud voice and swaggering manner, was a 
 terror to nine-tenths of the simpletons who 
 entered the witness' box — one who never cross- 
 examined a female witness without making her 
 blush, or terrifying her to tears— one who could 
 talk very solemnly about *'our holy religion," 
 and could convert into a joke the clearest prin- 
 ciples of morality, or the deepest sufferings of 
 humanity. It was a great amusement to the 
 country people and the county magistrates to 
 
4 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 hear this very clever man ; and poor old Richard 
 Smith was very much alarmed when he found 
 what a dexterous and terrific adversary was 
 employed against him, and he expressed his 
 fears to his own attorney, who comforted him 
 by saying", '' Had your cause been a bad one, I 
 would have retained Mr. — — ." 
 
 After one or two causes had been disposed 
 of, that of Smith versus Martindale was called. 
 Then, for the first time, and in his native town, 
 did Horatio Markham open his lips in a court 
 of justice. Notwithstanding the profound and 
 anxious silence which prevailed in the court, 
 scarcely one-half of the persons there could 
 hear distinctly the commencement of his speech ; 
 but by degrees he gained confidence, and his 
 voice was more audible. The audience, how- 
 ever, was not very highly pleased with what 
 he said. Many thought that he stated the case 
 much too feebly. Some thought that he was 
 afraid of the defendant's counsel ; and others 
 thought he was fearful of offending the defend- 
 ant himself. The Hon. Philip Martindale, who 
 was on the bench, listened with but slight at- 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 5 
 
 tention to the speech; and when it was finished, 
 honoured it with a contemptuous sneer. This 
 sneer was reflected in most courtly style by the 
 gentlemen who sat on either side of him ; the 
 high-sheriff was one, and a clerical magistrate 
 was the other. 
 
 Witnesses were then called to prove the case. 
 From them it appeared very clear that the 
 Hon. Philip Martindale had, upon very defec- 
 tive evidence, and against very credible evi- 
 dence, committed Richard Smith to jail as a 
 poacher ; and the said Hon. Philip Martindale 
 had also with great severity, not to say cruelty, 
 struck the said Richard Smith, in order, as 
 the defendant had said, to punish the old 
 man for his insolence. What this insolence 
 was, would not have appeared to the court, had 
 it not been for the dexterity of the defendant's 
 counsel, in cross-examining one of the plaintiff's 
 witnesses. 
 
 This witness was a very pretty, modest- 
 looking young woman, who seemed to suffer 
 quite enough from the publicity in which she 
 was placed by being brought to speak in open 
 
6 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 court. The temptation was too strong for the 
 defendant's counsel to resist ; and he therefore 
 took abundant pains to show his wit, by asking" 
 a long string of impertinent questions, and re- 
 peating the answers to those questions in a loud 
 insulting tone. He and those who follow his 
 example, are best able to say how far such a 
 mode of proceeding can answer the ends of 
 justice — how far it is consistent with the gravity 
 and decorum of a court, and with the character 
 of a gentleman — how far it is calculated to 
 impress the multitude with a sentiment of reve- 
 rence for the expounders of the law — and how- 
 far it is likely to advance those who adopt it, 
 in their own esteem. 
 
 The cross-examination of this young woman, 
 who was the plaintiff's niece, led to a re-exami- 
 nation, in which it was made manifest to the 
 court, as it had been previously known to most 
 then present, that th« severity of the Hon. 
 Philip Martindale towards poor old Richard 
 Smith arose from the vigilance with which the 
 old man guarded his niece, and preserved her 
 from the artifices of the defendant. When this 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 7 
 
 fact came out in evidence, there was an in- 
 voluntary and indescribable expression of con- 
 tempt in the court ; and the honourable defend- 
 ant endeavoured to smile away his mortification, 
 but did not succeed, though he was counte- 
 nanced by the high-sheriff on one side of him, 
 and a clerical magistrate on the other. The 
 contrast between impertinence and decorum was 
 never so strongly manifested as in the cross- 
 examination and re-examination above alluded 
 to ; and it has been said that the witty barrister 
 himself was not quite at his ease, and that he 
 broke down in an attempted jest upon gravity. 
 The counsel for the defendant called no wit- 
 nesses, but made a witty speech ; in which he 
 proved by arguments which made the multitude 
 laugh, that it is a very slight inconvenience to 
 be imprisoned for a few months ; that seduction 
 is a very venial offence, and highly becoming a 
 gentleman ; that it is a great condescension in 
 a man of high rank to knock down a poor cot- 
 tager; that gray hairs are a very ludicrous 
 ornament ; that it is very insolent in a poor man 
 to interrupt a rich man in his pursuit of vicious 
 
S RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 pleasure ; that the game-laws are so very excel- 
 lent, that persons only suspected of violating 
 them ought to be punished. Then he gave the 
 jury to understand, that if they should be foolish 
 enough to give a verdict for the plaintiff, they 
 must award the least possible damages. Then 
 he sat down, and took a great quantity of snuff, 
 and winked at the high-sheriff. In spite of all 
 the wit and coxcomical impertinence of this re- 
 doubtable advocate, the jury found a verdict for 
 the plaintiff, giving him one hundred pounds 
 damages. 
 
 This verdict, and the unpretending sobriety 
 of the young barrister's mode of arguing his 
 case, occasioned much conversation in the town, 
 and gave also ground for some observations 
 among the gentlemen of the bar. Some of 
 these gentlemen had known Horatio Markham 
 from the very first day that he had entered his 
 name in the Temple. They were acquainted 
 with his taste and the line of his reading, and 
 they knew that the oratorical writers of an- 
 tiquity and of modern times occupied a place on 
 his shelves and a share of his attention ; and 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 9 
 
 they expected that when he held such a brief as 
 that of which we have made mention, he would 
 indulge a little in declamation. It was there- 
 fore a matter of surprise to them when he 
 confined himself so strictly to the record, and 
 suffered his case to rest so independently on 
 its own strength. The opposing counsel was 
 completely at fault. He had calculated so 
 confidently on Markham's eloquence, and was 
 so familiar with the common places of decla- 
 mation, that he was quite prepared with a 
 copious supply of extemporaneous witticisms, 
 with which he designed to overwhelm the young 
 gentleman, and throw ridicule on his cause. 
 It was therefore a disappointment to him when 
 he found that all this previous preparation was 
 labour lost. But though most of the barristers 
 on the circuit joined with the witty counsel for 
 the defendant in his vituperation of those who 
 had been instrumental in procuring such a ver- 
 dict, yet secretly they were not displeased that 
 their tyrant had been so fairly set down. Mark- 
 ham was absolutely beginning to be a favourite 
 on the circuit. The judge himself all but 
 
10 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 publicly complimented him on the able and 
 gentleman-like manner in which he had managed 
 his cause ; and even the honourable defendant 
 was mortified that there was nothing in Mark- 
 ham's language to which any exception could 
 be taken. 
 
 When the court had broken up, the young 
 barrister most unblushingly walked into a linen- 
 draper's shop, and passing on to a little back 
 parlour, took off his gown and wig, and sat 
 down to dine with his father and mother. The 
 old people were proud of their son, and the 
 young man was not ashamed of his parents. 
 But he had seen many instances of young per- 
 sons who had scarcely deigned to acknowledge 
 those to whom they were not only bound by the 
 ties of nature, but to whose self-denial they 
 owed their distinction and station in life. These 
 little think how much substantial reputation 
 they lose, and how little shadowy honour they 
 gain. 
 
 As the family of the young barrister was 
 sitting at dinner, there entered to them unan- 
 nounced, and without apology, an elderly man. 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 11 
 
 in very singular attire, and of very singular 
 appearance. Markham had a recollection of 
 having seen him in court. His countenance 
 had an expression of archness, and he seemed 
 by his looks as though he were on the eve of 
 uttering some choice piece of wit ; there were 
 also observable indications of impetuosity and 
 strong self-wilL His head was nearly bald ; 
 his shoulders of ample breadth ; his stature 
 short; his voice shrill ; and his manner of 
 speaking quick and dogmatical. Without 
 taking any notice of the father and mother of 
 the barrister, he addressed himself directly to 
 Horatio, 
 
 ** I suppose you don't know me — my name is 
 Martindale." 
 
 '' The Hon. Philip Martindale?" replied the 
 young man with great composure ; for he was 
 quite ignorant of the person of the defendant 
 in the recent action. 
 
 '' The Hon. Philip Martindale I" echoed the 
 stranger, with a tone and with a look which 
 answered the question very decidedly. "The 
 Hon. Philip rascal ! — no, sir ; my name is not 
 
12 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 made ridiculous by any such lying adjunct. 
 My name is John Martindale : and it is my 
 misfortune to be called cousin by that hopeful 
 spark who was defendant in the action this 
 morning. I am come, sir, to tell you that I 
 think you did yourself honour by the manner in 
 which you conducted the poor man's cause." 
 
 Horatio Markham perceived that, though the 
 gentleman was somewhat of an oddity, he was 
 a man of some consequence, and apparently a 
 man of good feeling ; he therefore replied : 
 
 " Sir, you are very polite ; you ..." 
 
 " No such thing," interrupted Mr. Martin- 
 dale ; " I am not polite, and hope I never shall 
 be polite. My cousin Philip is a very polite 
 man." Then directing his conversation to Mr. 
 Markham the elder, he continued: "I con- 
 gratulate you, sir, on having for a son a young 
 man who can make a speech without fine words 
 and metaphors." 
 
 This seemed to the father a singular ground 
 of congratulation, and he did not know how to 
 reply to it : fortunately, the speaker did not 
 Wait for a reply ; but turning again to the young 
 
BANK AND TALENT. LS 
 
 man, he said : ^' You must come and spend a 
 few weeks with me in my cottage at Brigland. 
 I will have no excuses, so tell me when you 
 will come. Will you go home with me to- 
 night?" 
 
 Markham recollected that he had in his 
 boyhood heard frequent talk and many singular 
 anecdotes of Mr. John Martindale of Brigland ; 
 but as his general character was one of be- 
 nevolence and shrewd sense, he was not re- 
 luctant to accept the invitation, especially as it 
 was given in such terms as not to be refused 
 without that degree of rudeness which did not 
 seem suitable from a young man of humble 
 origin towards an elderly person of high rank. 
 He therefore professed his readiness to spend a 
 short time with his new friend, and fixed the 
 following day for the purpose. The stranger 
 then took his leave. 
 
X4 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 " I may speak foolishly, ay, knavishly, 
 Always carelessly, yet no one thinks it fashion 
 To poise my breath ; for he that laughs and strikes 
 Is lightly felt, or seldom struck again." Marston. 
 
 Brigland-Abbey was one of those de- 
 sirable mansions which auctioneers love to de- 
 scribe, but which are beyond all power of 
 advertising flattery. It stood on a gradually 
 descending and very extensive sweep of land ; 
 at the back of which rose a dense and ancient 
 forest, and in front flowed a stream which had 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 15 
 
 been artificially widened into the semblance of 
 a fair and placid lake. The building was in 
 harmony with the scenery; graceful, stately, 
 extensive. The architect had successfully imi- 
 tated the florid Gothic style of building ; and 
 over the principal entrance was a window of 
 enormous magnitude, and most brilliant colour- 
 ing. Through this window the beams of the 
 declining sun cast on the marble pavement of 
 the great hall a luxuriant mass of variegated 
 light, forming one of the most magnificent 
 specimens of internal beauty which any mansion 
 in this kingdom has to boast. This beautiful 
 estate was the property of Mr. John Martin- 
 dale, but the residence of the Hon. Philip 
 Martindale. The elder Martindale had, for 
 the place of his abode, a fancifully constructed 
 cottage, immediately opposite to the great gates 
 that opened into the park ; and so well placed 
 was this residence, that it had a most beautiful 
 and imposing view of the great building. For 
 when Mr. Martindale had finished the erection 
 of the splendid abbey, it was remarked to him, 
 as it has been remarked to many others who 
 
16 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 have built splendid mansions, " Now you should 
 have another house opposite to this, that you 
 may enjoy the pleasure of looking" at this mag- 
 nificent pile." 
 
 On this principle the proprietor acted ; re- 
 siding in a dwelling called the cottage, and 
 giving up the great house to his hopeful cousin. 
 He found a peculiar pleasure in this whim ; 
 for thereby he became master of the master 
 of the great house ; and nothing pleased him 
 more than to be mistaken for a person of no 
 consequence, and then to be discovered as 
 the opulent and remarkable Mr. Martindale. 
 Some of his neighbours used to report that he 
 had a right to a title, but that he would not 
 prosecute his claim, because he despised titles 
 as mere foolery. These good people were 
 wrong in their conjecture ; but the supposition 
 was not displeasing to Mr. Martindale. 
 
 As we are on the subject, we may as well 
 state here that he was an old bachelor, of ex- 
 tensive wealth ; and that he was third, fourth, 
 or fifth cousin to a Mr. Martindale, who had 
 recently been created Lord Martindale, but 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 17" 
 
 whose income was not quite equal to his title. 
 Now, though Mr. Martindale professed a great 
 contempt for titles, the fact is, that on his re- 
 mote relative's obtaining this distinction, he 
 took more notice of him than ever he had before, 
 and gave very strong indications that it was his 
 intention to make the Hon. Philip Martindale 
 his heir. He had. established the young gen- 
 tleman at the Abbey, tempting his vanity by the 
 offer of a residence far too magnificent for 
 his means, and too extensive for his establish- 
 ment. 
 
 The young man's vanity was pleased with 
 this arrangement, for he very sensibly felt that 
 he was the occupier of the great house ; but he 
 was not so deeply sensible of the fact, that he 
 was quite under the command of his opulent 
 and humorous relative. He looked forward to 
 the possession of ample means at the decease of 
 Mr. Martindale ; but he was desirous of sup- 
 plying his deficiencies, if possible, before that 
 time. It might, indeed, be imagined that the 
 heir-apparent to a barony, and the expectant of 
 most ample wealth, might have made his se- 
 
18. RANK AND TALENT* 
 
 lection among the daughters of opulence. There 
 were, however, difficulties and objections. The 
 young gentleman himself was, especially, par- 
 ticular as to rank and connexion. None of his 
 family had ever been engaged in or connected 
 with trade, so far as he could ascertain ; and 
 most of the large fortunes which appeared at 
 all accessible, had been the obvious result of 
 commercial engagement of some kind or other. 
 He might have had rank; he might have had 
 wealth ; but he could not have both. 
 
 The occupant of the cottage observed his 
 relative's vanity, and was in the habit of mor- 
 tifying it, even though he was not quite free 
 from some tincture of the same in his own 
 temperament. He also was not insensible to the 
 fact, that his honourable cousin was not over- 
 strict in his morals ; but his mode of reproving 
 irregularities did not much tend to their correc- 
 tion. The old gentleman was not a magistrate, 
 but was, as far as he thought fit, the dictator of 
 his cousin's proceedings in the office of magis- 
 trate : not that the transaction alluded to in the 
 first chapter was with the approbation or even 
 
RANK AND TALENT. IJJ 
 
 knowledge of the elder Martindale. Such, 
 however, was the oddity of this gentleman's 
 humour, that had Horatio Markham declaimed 
 with what some would have considered merited 
 severity against the magistrate for his violation 
 of the laws, he would have been the first to 
 take fire at the insult offered to his relative. He 
 was unprepared for so much temperance, so 
 much good sense, and so little common- place. 
 This circumstance, together with the fact that 
 Markham was of plebeian origin, led Mr. Mar- 
 tindale to invite the barrister to Brigland, that 
 he might amuse himself with his cousin's annoy- 
 ance and embarrassment. 
 
 As Markham was entering the village on 
 the side of the park, he naturally paused to 
 admire the beauty of the Abbey ; and while he 
 was thus engaged, Mr. Martindale rode up to 
 him, and without any preface of common-place 
 salutation, called out — 
 
 '* That is a fine house, Mr. Barrister. I dare 
 say you would rather pay a visit to an honourable 
 in the Abbey, than to a plain mister in a cot- 
 tage." 
 
30 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 Horatio apologised that he had not observed 
 Mr. Martindale ; but as he began to discern his 
 peculiar humour, he replied : ** I was certainly 
 admiring the taste of the architect, and his 
 judgment in selecting so fine and commanding 
 a situation : the very ground, by its disposition, 
 seemed to ask for a mansion of no ordinary 
 magnificence." 
 
 " Oh, ho — you understand how to pay com- 
 pliments. I suppose you did not know that 
 your humble servant, plain John Martindale, 
 was the designer and builder of this mansion. 
 Did you never hear the proverb, that fools 
 build houses, and wise men live in them?" 
 
 " Is the occupier of that mansion a wise man, 
 sir?" replied Horatio. 
 
 " I cannot say that he is. And so from that 
 you would infer that it was not a fool who built 
 the house. Well, well, you shall see him soon, 
 and judge for yourself. I told my honourable 
 relative that I should insist upon bringing you 
 to the Abbey." 
 
 Horatio Markham bowed, and they entered the 
 cottage. This building was, in its construction 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 21 
 
 and appearance, almost indescribable. There 
 was no semblance of arrangement or regularity 
 about it. It was very large, and at the same 
 time thoroughly inconvenient. Its furniture 
 was in some points very elegant, and in others 
 mean. While it was in course of building, 
 Mr. Martindale had changed his mind about 
 the plan of it fifty times, or more ; and in the 
 furnishing, there had been evidently as much 
 caprice. There was a room called the library ; 
 but which that room was, a stranger would 
 have been puzzled to guess ; for not a single 
 apartment through the whole house was free 
 from books, and in no one room were the books 
 arranged in any order. There were books upon 
 the tables, and books upon the chairs, and books 
 on the floors. The very staircases were not free 
 from them ; and whenever a visitor came to the 
 cottage to spend a day or two, it was an essen- 
 tial part of the preparation to remove the books 
 from the bed on wliicli they were lying. 
 
 Now Mr. Martindale was very particular 
 about his books, and would not suff'er any of his 
 
22 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 domestics to meddle with them. In his younger 
 days he had been a reader of books ; and when 
 he came to his property, he began to purchase, 
 and cease to read. It was indeed conjectured 
 by some that his large property, which came to 
 him from a distant relative, and in some measure 
 unexpectedly, had, in a degree, disordered his 
 mind. There might, perhaps, be some foun- 
 dation for this suspicion ; but it is a fact, that 
 even before his acquisition of great wealth, he . 
 had been remarked for many singularities. 
 
 *' Now, Mr. Barrister," said the occupier of 
 the cottage, '* what time would you like to 
 dine?" You have villainous late hours in Lon- 
 don, I know. Some of the great folks there 
 don't dine till to-morrow morning. If I should 
 ever sport a house in town, and give dinners, 
 I think I shall send out my cards inviting my 
 company to dinner on Tuesday next, at one 
 o'clock on Wednesday morning. Will five 
 o'clock be too soon for you, Mr. V 
 
 " Not at all, sir." So the business was set- 
 tled ; and then Mr. Martindale proposed a walk 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 23 
 
 into the town to call upon the clergyman, 
 whom he designated by the not much admired 
 name of parson. 
 
 '* Good morning to you, Mr. Denver ; will 
 you condescend to dine at the cottage at five 
 o'clock to-day ? In the mean time, let me 
 introduce to you my friend Mr. Markham, a 
 barrister; who has distinguished himself by 
 obtaining a very proper verdict against my 
 hopeful young cousin, the Hon. Philip Martin- 
 dale." 
 
 Mr. Denver accepted the invitation, politely 
 bowed to Mr. Markham, and expressed great 
 sorrow at the event which was alluded to by 
 Mr. Martindale. 
 
 " He is a wild youth, Mr. Parson ; why 
 don't you preach to him, and make him better?" 
 replied Mr. Martindale. — " If I were a parson, 
 I would take much better care of my parishioners 
 than nine out often of you black-coated gentry. 
 You are afraid of offending great folks. Now, 
 you would not dare to go up to the Abbey this 
 morning, and tell my honourable cousin that he 
 ought to be ashamed of himself. — Eh ! what say 
 
24 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 you, Mr. ? Will you take my arm, and walk up 
 to the great house, and set about rebuking the 
 wicked one ? " 
 
 Mr. Denver gently smiled, and said : " I 
 fear, sir, that we should not find Mr. Philip at 
 home this morning." 
 
 *' Not find him at home!" exclaimed Mr. 
 Martindale ; " why not? Where is he gone ?" 
 
 *' He left Brigland early this morning in a 
 post-chaise ; and the lad who drove him the first 
 stage sav/ him take another chaise, and pro- 
 ceed tov/ards London." 
 
 *' What ! go to London at this time of year ! 
 
 Let me know nothing about it! — What is he 
 gone for ? " 
 
 " I cannot conjecture," replied the reverend 
 divine, *' what can be Mr. Philip's motive for 
 visiting the metropolis at this unusual season." 
 
 " Conjecture!" said Mr. Martindale; "no, 
 I suppose not. But it is so very odd that he 
 should go in such a violent hurry, and not say a 
 word to me on the subject." 
 
 In this, the old gentleman was wrong ; for it 
 was by no means unusual for the Hon. Philip 
 
RANK AND TALENT, 25 
 
 Martindale to make an excursion for a day or 
 two without saying any thing about the matter 
 to his worthy relative. These excursions were 
 sometimes to Moulsey, and sometimes to Ep- 
 som, and sometimes to Newmarket, and some- 
 times to St. Mary Axe ; and as these excursions 
 were on a species of business with which the 
 old gentleman had no sympathy, the young 
 gentleman thought it superfluous to announce 
 his departure and arrival. A present advan- 
 tage arising from this arrangement was, that 
 he enjoyed a greater reputation for steadiness 
 than he really deserved, though without a 
 knowledge of these matters his indulgent and 
 opulent relative thought the young man rather 
 too wild. A future disadvantage, however, 
 was likely to compensate for the present ad- 
 vantage ; for it was next to impossible to carry 
 on this game without detection, and also very 
 difficult to escape from the vortex. 
 
 The knowledge of Philip's absence without 
 leave discomposed the old gentleman, and ren- 
 dered him not very well disposed for the en- 
 joyment of company ; he had, however, the 
 
 VOL. I. B 
 
26 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 consolation of anticipating the exercise of a 
 little extra tyranny over his dependent relative, 
 in consequence of this transgression. It is a 
 truth, and a sad one too, that many persons, 
 situated as Mr. John Martindale, are not always 
 really sorry for an opportunity of showing their 
 authority by means of the eloquence or an- 
 noyance of rebuke. Had Philip, by any exer- 
 tion of his own, or by any spirit of pride, re- 
 moved himself from a state of dependence, it 
 would have been a serious loss to his cousin ; 
 and even the very appearance of an act of 
 independence disturbed the old gentleman, and 
 rendered him for a considerable time silent and 
 sulky. 
 
 Soon after dinner, however, Mr. Martindale 
 recovered his spirits. He became quite cheer- 
 ful with the thought that he should make the 
 young man do penance for his transgression. 
 He was, however, not altogether at ease, be- 
 cause his curiosity was excited as to the object 
 of the young gentleman's excursion. Mr. Den- 
 ver was unable or unwilling to satisfy his 
 curiosity ; and therefore, without making any 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 27 
 
 apology to his guests, the old gentleman with- 
 drew from table, and walked up to the Abbey, 
 with a view of ascertaining, if possible, from 
 some of the servants, the cause of their master's 
 sudden absence from home. 
 
 When three persons have dined together, 
 and have been talking about nothing, or next 
 to nothing, and when one of the three with- 
 draws, it is not very unusual or unnatural 
 that he should form a topic for the remaining 
 two to discourse upon. This was the case 
 when Mr. Martindale left the clergyman and 
 the barrister together. 
 
 " It is very singular," said Markham to his 
 companion, ''that a man of such large fortune 
 as Mr. Martindale, should, after building so 
 splendid a mansion, content himself with re- 
 siding in such a cottage as this." 
 
 ''So it appears to us, who have no such 
 choice," replied Mr. Denver ; " but to Mr. 
 Martindale, who is rolling in riches, some other 
 stimulus is necessary than the mere outward 
 manifestation of wealth ; and I dare say that 
 he enjoys more pleasure from the whim of 
 
28 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 having a dependent relative in the great house, 
 than you or I should from dwelling there our- 
 selves. This I can venture to say, that Philip 
 Martindale has not received any great addition 
 to his happiness from being placed at the 
 Abbey. The old gentleman scarcely allows him 
 a maintenance, and is constantly dictating to 
 liim in the merest trifles imaginable." 
 
 '* What a miserable existence it must be to 
 live dependent on another's caprice !" exclaimed 
 Horatio. 
 
 *' Not very pleasant, to be sure," replied the 
 clergyman ; " but it is in expectation of here- 
 after enjoying an independency ; and what else 
 can the young man do ? Lord Martindale, his 
 father, has but very contracted means, and a 
 large family to provide for. Indeed, I believe 
 that his lordship himself is, in a great degree, 
 dependent on Mr. Martindale to keep up the 
 dignity of his rank." 
 
 " And does the old gentleman exercise such 
 authority over Lord Martindale and the rest of 
 his family, as he does over the young gentleman 
 who resides at the Abbey ? " 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 29 
 
 *' Not quite so much, I believe : he was 
 desirous that his lordship and family should 
 reside at the Abbey ; but Lady Martindale so 
 strongly objected to the measure, that it was 
 given up ; and Mr. Philip, after a little hesi- 
 tation, assented to his relative's proposal to 
 take up his abode here, though Lady Martin- 
 dale strongly urged him not to relinquish his 
 profession." 
 
 " Profession ! — what profession ? I think I 
 remember that name in the Temple." 
 
 " Yes, he was at the bar ; and I have heard 
 that he was rather successful, considering the 
 short time that he had practised ; but as soon 
 as his father became a peer, and his wealthy 
 relative offered him this magnificent seat, he 
 gave up practising, and cut his old friends." 
 
 *' Then he has made a very foolish exchange; 
 for the old gentleman, as you call him, does 
 not seem likely to gratify his heirs by a speedy 
 departure from this life, and in all probability 
 his domineering habits will rather increase than 
 diminish as he grows older. But from the 
 brief which I held yesterday, it seems that 
 
30 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 Mr. Philip Martindale is a man of very 
 profligate habits. How does that suit his 
 cousin V 
 
 *' Why, yes, the young man is rather gay ; 
 and so indeed was the old gentleman formerly, 
 or his old acquaintance very much belie him. 
 Now, however, he is occasionally very grave in 
 his way, arid frequently gives his cousin very 
 serious lectures, which are not of much avail ; for 
 Mr. Martindale's style of reproof is more jest- 
 ing than rebuking : he says whatever he thinks ; 
 and has the oddest mode of thinking of any 
 man that I know. He says any thing to any 
 body, and where he is known nobody heeds him." 
 
 " It struck me yesterday, that there was 
 something very peculiar in the manner in which 
 Mr. Martindale spoke of his cousin ; for the 
 charge against the young man was of a very 
 disgraceful nature, and I thought it not very 
 becoming to treat it .with any degree of le- 
 vity." 
 
 " You must make some allowance for the 
 exaggerations of briefs ; though I must ac- 
 knowledge that Philip Martindale was ver 
 
RANK AND TALENT. '6i 
 
 much to be blamed. Old Richard Smith is a 
 very respectable man for his station in life ; and 
 the young woman whom he calls his niece, has 
 always conducted herself in a very proper and 
 becoming manner. But they will not be able 
 to remain at Brigland after this event, unless 
 the old gentleman takes their part very de- 
 cidedly. I understand that Mr. Philip is very 
 much mortified at the result of the trial ; and 
 you, I hear, sir, are in very high favour at 
 Brigland, on account of the success of the trial. 
 The old man says that he is very desirous of 
 thanking you for your exertions. Even Philip 
 Martindale spoke handsomely of you, though 
 you were employed against him; and he was 
 disgusted at his own counsel, whose imperti- 
 nence, he believes, provoked the jury to their 
 'verdict." 
 
 To a much longer speech than this had 
 Horatio Mark ham given his attention, when he 
 and the reverend divine were interrupted by 
 the return of Mr. Martindale in a downright 
 passion. The cause of that passion we shall 
 narrate in the following chapter. 
 
32 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 CHAPTER HI. 
 
 *' There was a time, — 
 And pity 'tis so good a time had wings 
 To fly away, — when reverence was paid 
 To a grey head ; 'twas held a sacrilege 
 Not expiable, to deny respect 
 To one, sir, of your years and gravity." 
 
 Randolph. 
 
 Mr. Martindale, as we have said in the 
 preceding chapter, left his company, and walked 
 up to the Abbey to ascertain, if possible, from 
 some of the servants the cause of their master's 
 sudden journey. The old gentleman was not 
 in the habit usually of entering the house by 
 the grand entrance ; but on the present occasion, 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 33 
 
 seeing the great doors partly open, he directed 
 his steps that way ; and as he approached, he 
 heard voices with which he had not been fa- 
 miliar, and when he opened the door, he saw 
 two vulgar-looking fellows gaping about in 
 broad astonishment at the splendid decorations 
 of the great hall, interspersing their profound 
 remarks with unseemly puffings of tobacco-smoke 
 from two pipes with which they were regaling 
 themselves. It was not on trifling occasions 
 that Mr. Martindale was struck dumb with 
 astonishment ; but at the sight which he then 
 saw, he was so far thunderstruck that he did 
 not instantaneously commence the pouring forth 
 of his interrogatory eloquence. He gazed for 
 a moment or more on the two men, and they 
 gazed as long at him ; but their looks were not 
 so full of astonishment as his were : at length 
 he spoke in very hurried tones. 
 
 " Who are you l What do you want here I 
 What do you mean by smoking your filthy 
 pipes in this place? Have the goodness to 
 walk out directly." 
 
 To this speech one of the men calmly replied. 
 
34 .RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 *' We have as much right here, sir, as you 
 have, and perhaps more ; for I guess you are 
 only one of the upper servants, and we are 
 sheriffs' officers." 
 
 ' "Sheriffs' devils!" foamed forth the old gen- 
 tleman; "and who sent you here, I pray? I 
 will have no sheriffs' officers here, I can tell 
 
 you." 
 
 This language was not respectful to the men 
 of office, and therefore it was more sharply 
 taken up by the speaker, who, laying aside his 
 composure, very loudly answered : 
 
 " Come, old fellow, let us have none of your 
 insolence, or I shall soon let you know who is 
 master." 
 
 Furiously again Mr. Martindale was be- 
 ginning to reply, by repeating the word " Mas- 
 ter ! master ! master !" when the noise brought 
 the butler to the scene of contention. This 
 butler was more properly a spy over the actions 
 of the Hon. Philip Martindale than a servant of 
 his : he was the immediate pensioner of the old 
 gentleman ; but he was also somewhat attached 
 to his nominal master, and he therefore acted 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 35 
 
 the part of a traitor rather treacherously. He 
 knew, but had not communicated to Mr. Mar- 
 tindale, the intention of the young gentleman 
 to make a journey to London, and he knew 
 also the business on which he had gone ; and 
 he had also, on previous occasions, known more 
 than he had thought fit to communicate to his 
 employer. When this trusty domestic made 
 his appearance, Mr. Martindale addressed him 
 very impetuously : 
 
 " Oliver! what does all this mean? Here 
 are two insolent dirty fellows calling themselves 
 sheriffs' officers, and strutting about as if the 
 house was their own. Where do they come 
 from ? What do they want here ? And pray, 
 where is your master ? I must insist upon 
 knowing the meaning of all this." 
 
 Mr. Oliver looked foolish and confused, and 
 while he was beating his brains for a plausible 
 lie, one of the officers began to save him all 
 further trouble of invention by saying : 
 
 " Why, if you must know the meaning of 
 all this, I will tell you. The Hon. Philip Mar- 
 tindale is — " 
 
36 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 " Is gone out shooting," interrupted the 
 trusty Oliver: *' he went out early this morn- 
 ing, sir." 
 
 " Shooting with a long bow," muttered the 
 ofiScer. ** Shooting at this time of year, you 
 rascal !" exclaimed Mr. Martindale : ** why, you 
 puppy, this is only the beginning of August." 
 
 " I don't mean shooting game, sir, but shoot- 
 ing with bow and arrow. He — he — is gone to 
 — an archery meeting." 
 
 *' What ! is he gone to an archery meeting 
 in London ? But pray, Mr. Oliver, can yon 
 tell me why he has been so careful of his own 
 carriage as to take a hired chaise ?" 
 
 " He was afraid, sir, that the journey might 
 be rather too long for his own horses." 
 
 *' Yes," interrupted the oflScer, " it would 
 have been too far for his own horses to travel." 
 
 " Hold your tongue, you puppy !" was the 
 only acknowledgment which the speaker re- 
 ceived for this corroboration of the trusty 
 Oliver's speech : then turning again to Oliver, 
 Mr. Martindale continued : 
 
 '^ So your master is grown mightily merciful 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 37 
 
 to his horses all on a sudden ; and was he also 
 afraid that his travelling chariot would be tired 
 of the long journey ? Was it too far for the 
 carriage to travel 1" 
 
 " I guess it was rather too far for his carriage 
 to go from home," replied the officer. 
 
 *' Fellow!" cried Mr. Martindale, '* I want 
 none of your fool's prate." 
 
 *' Perhaps not," replied the man ; " you seem 
 to have enough of your own." 
 
 ** Silence, you puppy ! do you know who you 
 are speaking to ? I will not put up with this 
 insolence in my own house. This is my own 
 house ; I built it : every article in it is mine," 
 
 '* I beg your pardon, sir," replied the officer, 
 " I did not know you : but I will immediately 
 explain . . . ." 
 
 ** If you will have the goodness, sir, to step 
 this way," interrupted Oliver, " perhaps my 
 master may be returned by this time. I will 
 tell you all the particulars." 
 
 Mr. Martindale had kept this fellow a long 
 while in his employment, and had estimated 
 his fidelity by his treachery, forgetting that 
 
38 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 they who have a double game to play make 
 a double profit upon it ; for while the old 
 gentleman had been bribing him to betray the 
 young one, the young one had been paying 
 him to deceive the old one : so that by this 
 double diplomacy Oliver had become, to use 
 a phrase of Dr. Johnson's, " a very pretty 
 rascal." By deceiving both parties he had in- 
 jured both ; but they had only themselves to 
 thank for it. Had they been simple enough 
 to follow the old maxim, that honesty is the best 
 policy, they would both have gained their ends 
 more effectually : the elder Martindale would 
 have experienced from the younger greater 
 deference and confidence, and the younger 
 Martindale would have experienced from the 
 elder a greater degree of liberality. 
 
 On the present occasion, it never for a 
 moment entered the mind of the old gentleman 
 that the sheriffs' officers could be at Brigland 
 Abbey on any serious professional engagement. 
 It may indeed be asked, if he did not think 
 that, what was he thinking of? What, indeed ! 
 That is a question which he himself could not 
 
HANK AND TALENT. 30 
 
 answer. Having however no suspicion of what 
 was really the case, he was the more easily 
 drawn away by the crafty Oliver from the 
 impending explanation which was threatened 
 by the officer. 
 
 Having thus drawn Mr. Martindale away 
 from the immediate explanation which was just 
 coming upon him, Oliver's next concern was 
 to construct something of a plausible story 
 to account not only for the presence of the 
 officers at the Abbey, but for their rude beha- 
 viour, which to his mind appeared totally in- 
 soluble on any other theory than that of their 
 being in possession by virtue of their office. 
 To acknowledge this truth appeared to him 
 as the most effectual means to bring ruin on 
 himself and his master. As soon, therefore, as 
 he had conducted the old gentleman into the 
 library, he began to apologise for the presence 
 and rudeness of these men ; and Mr. Martin- 
 dale being removed from the sight of those 
 who had excited his anger, began to grow a 
 little more cool, and was better prepared to 
 hear explanation. Fortunately for Oliver and 
 
40 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 his master, the curiosity of the old gentleman 
 was not so strongly excited by the presence 
 of the officers as by the absence of the Hon. 
 Philip Martindale. He therefore very easily 
 believed the story which the trusty butler in- 
 vented, that these officers had been on a visit 
 to one of the servants, and that they were 
 rather intoxicated ; but the difficulty to be 
 solved was the absence of the master of the 
 house, and his travelling with post-horses and 
 a hired chaise. Now Mr. Oliver would have 
 been utterly unworthy of his place and occu- 
 pation as a professional tell-tale and a hired 
 spy, had he been unable to invent, or unready 
 to utter, a most wilful, deliberate, and glorious 
 lie. Having therefore disposed of the difficulty 
 of the presence of the officers, he went on very 
 deliberately to say : 
 
 '' Did not my master call at the cottage this 
 morning ? I am sure he intended to do so ; 
 but perhaps he was too early. I think he 
 must have called, but perhaps you were not 
 stirring, sir." 
 
 " Not stirring, you dog ; why I was at the 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 41 
 
 mineral spring by five o'clock, or very little 
 after." 
 
 " Oh ! then that accounts for your not seeing 
 my master before he went, for he set out just 
 after the turret-clock struck five ; and very 
 likely he saw you walking across the meadow, 
 and knew it would be useless to call at the 
 cottage." 
 
 *' But I wonder why he did not tell me of 
 his engagement yesterday ; for he must have 
 known it then, if he set out so early this morn- 
 ing." 
 
 " I believe, sir," replied the trusty one, " that 
 I am to blame for that ; for a note was brought 
 here yesterday morning, and I forgot to deliver 
 it till just as my master was going to bed. 
 The note was from Sir Andrew Featherstone, 
 to say that the archery-meeting was fixed for 
 this day instead of next Wednesday, in order to 
 accommodate the young ladies from Hollywick 
 Priory, because they must accompany their 
 uncle to Cheltenham on Monday at the latest ; 
 and so, sir, my master was forced to go in a 
 hurry ; and as he had taken the carriage-horses 
 
42 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 to the assizes yesterday, and as the other horses 
 had not been much used to the chariot, so he 
 ordered me to go down to the Red . Lion to 
 bespeak a pair of chaise-horses, and I by mis- 
 take ordered chaise and horses ; and as it w as 
 yery late when I returned, my master would 
 not make any alteration, and he took them as 
 I had ordered." 
 
 : " Well," replied Mr. Martindale, '' but Parson 
 Denver told me that your master was gone 
 to London ; now Sir Andrew Featherstone 
 has not an archery-meeting at his town- 
 house." 
 
 " That must be a mistake of Mr. Denver's ; 
 for I am sure that my master is not gone to 
 London. I can show you, sir, the very letter 
 which my master received from Sir Andrew 
 Featherstone." 
 
 Thereupon the trusty Oliver left the worthy 
 old gentleman for a few minutes to his own 
 meditations ; and as he knew that it would be 
 in vain to look for a letter which had no ex- 
 istence but in his own imagination, he used 
 this interval in properly tutoring the sheriffs' 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 43 
 
 officers in case they should again meet Mr. 
 Martindale. 
 
 " It is very unfortunate, sir," exclaimed the 
 butler, when he returned to the library, " but 
 I believe my master must have carried the 
 letter with him ; for I saw it on his dressing- 
 table this morning-, and I read it when his 
 back was turned ; but I think he went into the 
 room again before he left home, and he has, 
 no doubt, taken the letter with him." 
 
 ** Ay, ay, never mind ; I don't want to see 
 any of Sir Andrew Featherstone's foolish let- 
 ters. Archery, forsooth ! and for young women 
 to make such an exhibition of themselves ! 
 It is absolutely indecent. I am sorry that 
 Philip should lend himself to encourage any 
 such ridiculous foolery. What crotchet will 
 seize the fashionable world next, I wonder. I 
 suppose we shall have the tread-mill converted 
 into a machine for the amusement of elegant 
 females. It will be a pretty species of gym- 
 nastic exercise. Now, Oliver, I beg you will 
 not say a word to your master of my having 
 made inquiries after him, and see that these 
 drunken officers are sent away as soon as pes- 
 
44 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 sible. It is quite disreputable for the servants 
 to keep such company." 
 
 Mr. Oliver made all the professions and 
 promises which were required of him, and was 
 not sorry to get so easily rid of his difficulties. 
 The old gentleman then recollecting that he 
 had left his guests to entertain each other at 
 the cottage, prepared to return home, but in 
 his way he met old Richard Smith, whom 
 indeed he did not personally know ; but as the 
 poor man knew Mr. Martindale, he pulled off 
 his hat, and made a very humble obeisance to 
 the rich man. There was something very 
 striking in the appearance of Richard Smith, 
 especially when his head was uncovered. His 
 hair was of a silvery whiteness, and it hung 
 about his neck in full and graceful ringlets ; 
 his forehead was bold and high, and almost 
 without a wrinkle ; and his fine eyes, but little 
 dimmed with age, presented the appearance 
 of strength and vigour contending with time. 
 His figure was tall, and but just beginning to 
 bend under the weight of years. The manner 
 in which he made his obeisance was also im- 
 pressive ; there was dignity in his humility, and 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 4$ 
 
 his bow was neither slavishly obsequious nor 
 vulgarly insolent. There was in his whole 
 appearance a manifestation of that indelible 
 nobility with which nature endows some in- 
 dividuals of the human species in every rank 
 and condition of life, and which all the drilling 
 and tutoring of artificial society can neither 
 imitate nor improve. The venerable look and 
 the graceful demeanour of the old man induced 
 Mr. Martindale to take especial notice of him, 
 and ask his name, and place of abode, and 
 employment. 
 
 " My name, sir," replied the old man, " is 
 Richard Smith ; my abode is at Brigland ; and 
 I am past labour." 
 
 " Eh ! what ! Smith ! Richard Smith !— 
 Are you the person that my graceless cub of a 
 cousin had the insolence to knock down and 
 send to jail as a poacher? I hope he has 
 paid you the amount of damages awarded to 
 you." 
 
 " It was only yesterday, sir, that the verdict 
 was given, and I have no desire to hurry the 
 
46 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 gentleman for payment : I wish him to make it 
 convenient to himself." 
 
 " What are you talking about, my good 
 man ? Do you think it can make any difference 
 to my cousin when he pays such a sum as one 
 hundred pounds. You fancy you are talking 
 about a shopkeeper." 
 
 " I beg pardon, sir ; I do not mean to speak 
 disparagingly of the Hon. Philip Martindale, but 
 lawyer Flint told me this morning, that when 
 he applied to lawyer Price about the settlement 
 of the damages and costs, he was informed that 
 they would be paid in a few da5s, but it was 
 not quite convenient at present." 
 
 " Nonsense, the lawyers want to cheat you ; 
 Philip has money enough to pay you, and I 
 will take care that you shall be paid. I will 
 see Price to-morrow, and he shall settle the bu- 
 siness at once. I am afraid the young man is 
 not quite so steady as he ought to be. I don't 
 at all approve of his behaviour to you and your 
 niece, and I shall tell him my mind pretty 
 plainly." 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 47 
 
 The old man shook his head and sighed. Mr. 
 Martindale observed his emotion, and interro- 
 gated him more closely concerning the beha- 
 viour of Philip, assuring him that, instead of 
 being offended, he should be thankful for any 
 information concerning the conduct of his 
 young relative, in order that he might use his 
 influence to correct it. 
 
 " I am not thinking, sir," replied Richard 
 Smith, with great solemnity of tone, " only of 
 your honourable relative, but of the numbers 
 in his rank of life who make the miseries of the 
 poor their amusement and sport. I am think- 
 ing, sir, that it is a sad mockery of the seriousness 
 of legislation, that profligate and ignorant lads 
 should sit as lawgivers." Mr. Martindale 
 frowned, for he had bought a borough for his 
 hopeful relative ; but as he stood in the atti- 
 tude of listening, the old man went on : "I 
 think it a sad disgrace to the country, that ig- 
 nominious and painful punishments are de- 
 nounced against those offences only which the 
 legislators have no temptation to commit." 
 
 " Well done, old gentleman," replied Mr. 
 
48 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 Martindale, " you talk like a philosopher. I 
 am quite of your way of thinking. So you 
 don't think that it is enough to make young 
 gentlemen pay for their frolics ; you would 
 have them sent to work at the tread-mill, or 
 give them a public whipping now and then by 
 way of example." 
 
 " And do not you think," said the old man 
 more sternly, " that such inflictions as these 
 would be more effectual in checking the vices 
 of the higher orders, than a mere fine which is 
 paid and forgotten, or which places vice in 
 the same scale as a luxury 1" 
 
 " Why, my good friend, you are a severe 
 legislator ; you seem to be angry with my 
 young spark. But now, if your system should 
 be adopted, the injured party would gain no re- 
 dress; whereas now the wound is healed by 
 heavy damages ; and surely it is much better to 
 receive a pecuniary conipensation, than merely 
 to have the satisfaction of knowing that the of- 
 fender is personally punished." 
 
 *' Excuse me, sir, but you are not speaking 
 according to your own judgment. You must 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 49 
 
 know that the professed end of the law is secu- 
 rity from injury. Substitute a pecuniary com- 
 pensation for the punishment now denounced 
 against murder, and whose life is safe V 
 
 *' You are angry, my friend, you are angry. 
 You should not bear malice ; I will take care 
 and see you righted ; my cousin shall not have it 
 said of him that he oppresses the poor." 
 
 ** Then, perhaps, sir, you will so far befriend 
 me as that I may not be turned out of my cot- 
 tage ; for lawyer Price told me that I should be 
 sent off as soon as the damages were paid." 
 
 At this request of the poor man, or rather at 
 the occasion for the request, Mr. Martindale 
 was really vexed and angry. He had tolerated 
 many of his cousin's vices under the name of 
 youthful follies ; but when he found him guilty 
 of the meanness of so despicable a species of 
 revenge, he was deeply mortified, and with 
 great emotion replied : " The, very day that 
 you are driven out of the cottage, Philip shall 
 leave the Abbey." 
 
 Having said this, he hurried home to his 
 guests in no enviable frame of mind. Mr. 
 VOL. I. c 
 
50 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 Denver was accustomed to the old gentleman's 
 peculiarities ; but Horatio Markham, who had 
 never known, and who scarcely apprehended 
 what it was to be dependent on another's ca- 
 prices, felt uneasy and constrained, and was 
 beginning to wish that he could, consistently 
 with common politeness, reduce his visit to a 
 day, instead of a week or ten days. He was 
 however soon relieved from his temporary 
 uneasiness, by the return of good humour 
 to the tone and countenance of his host, who 
 proposed that, before visiting the Abbey, they 
 should call at old Richard's cottage, and in- 
 quire into his circumstances. 
 
HANK AND TALENT. 51 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 *' Exceeding fair she was not, and yet fair, 
 
 In that she never studied to be fairer 
 
 Than nature made her." Chapman. 
 
 In pursuance of the arrangement proposed 
 the preceding evening, Mr. Martindale and his 
 guest, immediately after an early breakfast, 
 went out in search of Richard Smith's cottage. 
 They had some little difficulty to find the 
 place ; for, though the old man had lived seve- 
 ral years at Brigland, he was of such retired 
 habits that he was comparatively unknown in 
 
52 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 the parish: some persons knew him by sight 
 who did not know his name, and others had 
 heard his name, who were unacquainted with 
 his person. 
 
 The cottage in which he lived seemed to 
 have been selected for its very retired situation. 
 It stood in a narrow lane, which, before the 
 building of the great house, had served as a 
 thoroughfare from Brigland Common to the 
 meadows, which, since the erection of the Ab- 
 bey, had been included in the park. The cot- 
 tage, though apparently so secluded and almost 
 embowered in wood, was by no means a gloomy 
 abode ; for through a natural vista in the wood 
 before it there was an extensive view of highly- 
 cultivated scenery, which showed between the 
 over-arching trees like a beautiful painting in a 
 rustic frame. The light which shone through 
 this opening, drew the eyes of Markham and 
 his companion to notice; the beauty of the land- 
 scape. 
 
 There is a peculiar and almost indescribable 
 effect produced on the mind by the sight of 
 well-known scenery taken from a new point, or 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 53 
 
 viewed with some variety or novelty of accom- 
 paniment. The feeling thus excited, has not 
 all its interest from novelty alone, nor is it in- 
 debted for its interest to association. In view- 
 ing this scene, Mr. Martindale enjoyed this 
 pleasure : he had lived for many years in Brig- 
 land, and had long been in possession of this 
 estate, but here was a beauty he had never 
 seen before. 
 
 While they were both admiring the scene 
 before them, Horatio Markham fancied that he 
 could hear a distant sound of music, and stood 
 for a moment in a listening attitude. Presently 
 the sound caught the ear of Mr. Martindale; 
 and the two companions looked at each other in 
 mute astonishment, when the faint tinkling of 
 the unknown instrument was accompanied with 
 the human voice in notes of indescribable 
 sweetness. The voice was near enough to be 
 distinctly audible ; and Markham, who had a 
 more acute sense of hearing, and a more exten- 
 sive knowledge of music than his friend Mr. 
 Martindale, soon perceived that neither the 
 words nor the melody were English. It was 
 
54 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 presently obvious that the music was in the cot- 
 tag-e of old Richard Smith. The two listeners 
 waited till the voice was silent, and then, with- 
 out the ceremony of tapping at the door, en- 
 tered the poor man's humble dwelling. 
 
 The interior of the cottage was perfectly neat 
 and clean, as might have been anticipated from the 
 style and appearance of the old man ; but there 
 was in it more than neatness — there were symp- 
 toms that its present tenants had seen better days. 
 There were several articles of furniture and 
 embellishment which cottagers have neither 
 means nor inclination to purchase. Symptoms 
 indeed of better days are to be continually met 
 with in many humble, even in many miserable 
 dwellings ; but such symptoms consist generally 
 of those articles which cannot find purchasers, 
 or which are in daily use, or of indispensable 
 utility, or which have an imaginary value far 
 beyond their real value. And the poor people 
 are sometimes proud of these mementos of their 
 high descent. They can perhaps show, in an 
 old black frame, and drawn on durable vellum, 
 their family-arms: — they may have large un- 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 65 
 
 wieldy portraits of ancestors who were distin- 
 guished somehow or other in former days, but 
 they know not when, and have perhaps forgot- 
 ten their very names : — they still retain pieces 
 of fine needlework, which make it manifest 
 that some female ancestor had received a 
 boarding-school education; and many a poor 
 old couple eat their daily scanty meal on the 
 remains of the fine porcelain which some of their 
 progenitors used and exhibited only on days of 
 high festivity. 
 
 But the articles in Richard Smith's cottage 
 were of a different character, and of much more 
 recent date than such as those alluded to above. 
 There hung upon the walls some landscapes^ 
 which indeed a person in poverty might have 
 drawn, but which no poor man would keep or 
 would embellish with handsome modern frames. 
 There were also several engravings, which had 
 not been published more than sixteen or seven- 
 teen years. Instead of the usual cottage clock 
 with clumsily painted figures and elm-case, there 
 stood on a bracket a neat time-piece, with the 
 name of a celebrated Parisian maker. Upon a set 
 
56 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 of hanging-shelves there lay several volumes of 
 faDcifuUy and apparently foreign bound books* 
 These were for the most part Italian, but a 
 few were French. 
 
 While Mr. Martindale was talking to the 
 old man, Horatio Markham, according to a 
 very common, but not very decorous practice 
 of young men who affect literature, was amus- 
 ing himself with taking down and opening one 
 after another of the books ; and seeing the 
 character of them, and that in their selection 
 they gave proof of a correct and polished taste, 
 he could not but look more attentively at the 
 old man's niece, with an endeavour to trace in 
 her countenance an expression of a style above 
 that of a simple rustic. The human counte- 
 nance is susceptible of great variety of expres- 
 sion, and owes much to surrounding circum- 
 stances : the very same set of features which 
 in one garb and place would savour of rusticity, 
 would bear a different interpretation in another 
 garb and with other adjuncts. In like manner, 
 the imagination of the spectator does much in 
 giving an interpretation to features, and ascer- 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 57 
 
 tainiag physiognomical indications. So when 
 Horatio Markham saw the young woman in the 
 witness-box giving", with downcast look and 
 trembling accents, her testimony as to the injury 
 sustained by a poor old man, he could see no- 
 thing more, for he thought nothing more was 
 to be seen, than a modest, simple, and tolerably 
 pretty face, having no remarkable or peculiar 
 expression. But when he saw the same person, 
 with the same features and the same expres- 
 sion of retiring modesty, surrounded with th« 
 productions of art, and apparently the only per- 
 son in the cottage to whom those productions 
 could be interesting, and by whom those books 
 should be read and enjoyed, he soon fancied 
 that he observed indications of a superior mind 
 and a cultivated understanding. Nay, so far 
 did his imagination influence him, that the im- 
 pulse which he first felt to address some inqui- 
 ries to the old man's niece concerning the 
 books and drawings was absolutely repelled by 
 a feeling of awe. He now began to paint to 
 his imagination a person of superior rank, and 
 to be astonished that he had not before ob* 
 
58 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 served that her whole style and expression was 
 far above her professed situation. 
 
 As he was replacing" on the shelf one of the 
 books into which he had been looking, a hard 
 substance fell to the ground, and he stooped 
 immediately to pick it up ; but the young wo- 
 man was before him, and Markham saw, or 
 thought he saw, that the article which she had 
 thus hastily picked up, was neither more nor 
 less than an ivory crucifix. The object itself 
 he would not have noticed, but he was very 
 much struck with the eagerness with which it 
 was taken up and concealed. Apologising for 
 his awkwardness, and accepting an acknowledg- 
 ment of his apology, he turned from the books 
 to look more minutely at the pictures. The 
 drawings were, without exception, scenes in 
 Italy, evidently executed by a practised hand, 
 and bearing a date which rendered it highly 
 improbable that they should have been the pro- 
 duction of the old man's niece. 
 
 The conversation which passed between 
 Mr. Martindale and Richard Smith was indeed 
 heard, but not heeded by Horatio Markham. 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 59 
 
 It had a reference chiefly to the nature of the 
 injury for which the old man had recently 
 sought legal redress ; and the account which 
 Mr. Martindale received concerning the conduct 
 of his honourable relative, was not by any means 
 calculated to soothe the already irritated mind 
 of the old gentleman. Turning the discourse 
 from these unpleasant matters, he suddenly 
 asked : 
 
 '' Did not I hear music just before I came 
 in ? Does this young woman play or sing ?" 
 
 This question excited the attention of Mark- 
 ham, who cast his eyes round the apartment, 
 but all in vain, to find what musical instrument 
 it was which he had heard while he was stand- 
 ing near the cottage. To the question thus 
 asked no answer was given, but the young wo- 
 man held down her head and blushed ; exhibit- 
 ing, as Markham thought, much more confu- 
 sion than such an inquiry in such circum- 
 stances seemed to demand. Mr. Martindale 
 did not repeat the question, but proceeded to 
 say: 
 ■ " Well, my good man, I have brought with 
 
60 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 me the youDg advocate who pleaded your cause 
 so effectually. I hope he will be as successful 
 in every cause that he undertakes, and that he 
 will never undertake any less honourable to 
 himself." 
 
 ** The law is a dangerous profession, sir ; but 
 we must not measure a man's integrity by the 
 brief which he holds. The barrister professes 
 himself an advocate, not a judge ; and if he re- 
 fuses a brief because he thinks the cause a bad 
 one, he acts with prejudice, seeing only one 
 side of the question. Besides, sir, there ar*? 
 few causes which may bear altogether the name 
 of bad. Sometimes a cause may be bad in law, 
 but good in morals ; sometimes an action at law 
 may be good so far as the moral feeling is con- 
 cerned, and bad as to the letter of some statute ; 
 and it is possible that some persons may consi- 
 der any litigation whatever as being inconsis- 
 tent with the strict letter of Christianity. We 
 must also make great allowances for diversity 
 of temper and disposition : what may appear 
 just to one man appears perhaps too rigidly 
 strict to another. I think, sir, that the barris- 
 
RANK AND TALENT. ^ 
 
 ter's profession is unduly calumniated. If, in- 
 deed, a client comes to an advocate and says, 
 ' I wish to take an unfair advantage of my 
 neighbour, and 1 will pay you to assist me,' 
 then the barrister would act improperly to sell 
 his conscience to his client ; but every litigant 
 sees, or fancies he sees, something of right in 
 his cause, and the barrister merely gives him 
 legal assistance. The law is a dangerous pro- 
 fession indeed, because it may lead to a confu- 
 sion of right and wrong ; but while it endangers 
 a man's integrity, it also gives him abundant 
 and honourable opportunity of displaying an 
 upright mind and good principle. You will 
 excuse an old man," said he, turning towards 
 Markham ; " garrulity is the privilege of age ; 
 but I have had experience of the world. I see 
 but little of it now ; the time has been that I 
 have seen more." 
 
 Horatio Markham, though but five-and- 
 twenty years of age — though he had gained two 
 causes in the Court of King's Bench — though 
 he had been successful in his first brief in his 
 native town — though he had at other towns on 
 
62 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 the circuit held an extraordinary number of 
 briefs for a first journey — though he held those 
 briefs by means of a reputation going before 
 him that he was a man of good talents — though 
 he had more than once received a marked com- 
 pliment from his seniors both at the bar and 
 on the bench — and though he was of humble 
 origin, and was rationally expecting to rise in 
 a profession which would place him in a higher 
 station than his parents or early acquaintance, 
 yet, with all this, he was not a coxcomb. Mo- 
 ralists and divines may speak as contemptuously 
 as they will of negative virtues ; but in defiance 
 of their wisdom, we will contend that, humanly 
 speaking, there was great merit in Horatio, 
 that he did not feel himself unduly elated by 
 all his honors. He attentively listened to the 
 common-place harangue of old Richard Smith, 
 and replied to it with the respect due to old age. 
 *' You are very candid to the profession, 
 sir; few will concede so much: but it would 
 be difficult to find any profession or employ- 
 ment which is not subject to the reproaches of 
 those who are not engaged in it. Indeed, £ 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 63 
 
 have known that even individuals in the pro- 
 fession have also spoken disrespectfully of its 
 moral character and tendency." 
 
 " Then," replied the old man, " they ought 
 to leave it. A profession cannot be indispen- 
 sable that is essentially immoral. But, sir, 
 I have to thank you for the manner in which 
 you conducted my cause. It was well done 
 of you that you spoke so temperately of 
 the defendant, or that you rather let facts 
 speak for themselves. I have no spiteful 
 feeling against the gentleman, and for my 
 own part could easily have borne with what 
 I received from him ; but I have a serious 
 charge here," pointing to his niece ; " that poor 
 child looks up to me for protection, and I must 
 not suffer any one to approach her disrespect- 
 fully. I love her as if she were my own. She 
 has, indeed, no other protector. I must be 
 almost fastidious and jealous in the care that 
 I take of her : a life dearer to me than my own 
 depends upon her happiness." 
 
 As the old man was speaking, his face was 
 suffused with a glow of strong feeling ; the 
 
64 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 young woman's lip quivered, her eye glistened, 
 and she left the room where they were sitting. 
 As she opened the door by which she made 
 her retreat, Markham, whose curiosity had been 
 strongly excited by all the appearances in the 
 cottage, caught a glimpse of a second or inner 
 apartment, apparently fitted up with very great 
 neatness. Of its extent he could form no 
 idea, but its ornaments were of the same na- 
 ture as those in the room in which he was 
 sitting. Old Mr. Martindale now felt his cu- 
 riosity roused ; he said : 
 
 " I am quite curious to know the history of 
 this young woman. Is she really your niece?" 
 
 " She is really my niece," said the old man, 
 ** so far as that her mother was my sister's 
 child.'^ 
 
 ** Are these drawings done by your niece 
 too ? You seem to have given her a very good 
 education." 
 
 " These drawings," replied the old man, 
 **are not hers; and as for her education, such, 
 as it is, she received it before she was placed 
 under my care." 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 65 
 
 "Are her father and mother living?" con- 
 tinued Mr. Martindale ; " but I suppose not, by 
 her being placed, as you say, under your sole 
 protection." 
 
 This last part of the sentence was uttered at 
 an interval after the first ; for no immediate 
 answer was returned to the interrogation con- 
 cerning her father and mother. Indeed, the 
 poor man did not seem very willing to enter 
 into any very particular explanation upon the 
 subject ; and Mr. Martindale himself, though he 
 had expressed a curiosity to know the history 
 of the young woman, was not so very curious 
 as to persevere in putting a multitude of ques- 
 tions. 
 
 There are some persons whose curiosity gains 
 strength by opposition, and others who will not 
 condescend to be at the expense of any great 
 number of questions. Mr. Martindale was of 
 this latter class. Indeed, had he received ever 
 so much intelligence, it would have been of 
 little use, for he would soon have forgotten it. 
 There was another person present whose curio- 
 
66 RANK AND TALENT* 
 
 sity had been much more strongly excited. 
 Horatio Markham felt himself fully convinced 
 that the young woman was not a daughter of a 
 cottager : he could, as he fancied, see clearly 
 enough, by her manner and expression, that she 
 was of much superior rank. It was very ridi- 
 culous for a young barrister, who had scarcely, 
 seen any society at all, who had been born 
 and brought up in a country town, and of a 
 humble family, or, more properly speaking, of 
 no family at all, and who had spent most of his 
 time in study ; — it was very ridiculous for him 
 to affect to decide what manners designated or 
 manifested superior breeding. It is a species 
 of vanity, however, in which Markham is by no 
 means singular. 
 
 Mr. Martindale having given the old man 
 an assurance of his protection, and having now 
 no more questions to ask, rose and took his 
 leave, accompanied by his young friend. 
 
 "That was a pretty young woman at the 
 cottage, Mr. Barrister; but you must not fall in 
 love with her. It will never do for profes- 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 67 
 
 sional men to make love-matches. Love in a 
 cottage is very pretty, very poetical, very well 
 to talk about." 
 
 Markham protested that he had not the 
 slightest notion of falling in love with a person 
 who was a total stranger to him; but seriously, 
 he could not but acknowledge that there was 
 something very superior in the look and man- 
 ner of the young woman, and that it might not 
 have been impossible for him to have received 
 an impression, had he met with a similar person 
 in a suitable rank in life. He felt himself not 
 well pleased that Mr. Martindale should have 
 thought it within the verge of possibility that a 
 gentleman of the bar should condescend so low 
 as to fall in love with a young woman, the niece 
 of a poor cottager. He forgot, however, that 
 during the time he was in the cottage, he had 
 his eyes very much fixed upon the old man's 
 niece; he forgot how very completely his at- 
 tention had been absorbed ; and while he was 
 speculating as to the causes which operated in 
 bringing so much elegance and gracefulness 
 into so humble an abode, Mr. Martindale 
 
tl» RANK AND TALENT* 
 
 thought him occupied in admiring the young 
 woman's pretty face. There was certainly a 
 tolerable share of that species of beauty called 
 prettiness in the composition of her features ; 
 but as she rather exceeded the middle stature, 
 and wore a general look of thoughtfulness, the 
 word pretty was not comprehensive enough for 
 a description of her person. When she ap- 
 peared in the court as a witness, her fine glossy 
 black ringlets were totally concealed, and her 
 dark eyes were so bent towards the ground that 
 their life and expression were not visible. 
 Markham had observed her but little ; thinking 
 probably that his behaviour could not be more 
 becoming than when it was totally and directly 
 opposed to that of the defendant's counsel. He 
 was, therefore, not a little surprised when he 
 saw so much beauty and gracefulness in one 
 whom he had taken for a mere country girl ; 
 and his curiosity was still more raised when he 
 observed the nature of the decorations of the 
 poor man's cottage. The charm which struck 
 him most of all was, the total absence of all 
 affectation or artifice both in the old man and 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 69 
 
 in his niece. Richard Smith, indeed, used lan- 
 guage superior in ordinary correctness to that 
 of the usual inhabitants of cottages, but did 
 not give himself airs, as some poor men who 
 fancy themselves conjurers, because they hap- 
 pen to be a little better informed than their 
 neighbours ; and the young woman appeared 
 quite as free from any species of affectation, 
 either of manner or of dress. 
 
70 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 CHAPTER V, 
 
 *♦ And, madam, if it be a lie. 
 You have the tale as cheap as I." 
 
 Swift, 
 
 TriE Rev. Cornelius Denver, perpetual curate 
 of Brigland, was one of the best-tempered 
 creatures in the world. He would not injure 
 any one ; he had almost every one's good word ; 
 he was full of smiles and courtesy ; he had 
 nothing of the pomp or pride of priestly 
 manners ; he did not keep his parishioners at 
 an awful distance, or affect to exercise any 
 spiritual dominion over them by virtue of his 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 71 
 
 calling; he was familiar with all, and good- 
 humoured to all ; he had not the slightest 
 tincture of bigotry or party-spirit ; in politics 
 and religion he was most truly liberal ; he had, 
 of course, his own opinions on these subjects, 
 but he called them into use so seldom, that he 
 and his neighbours scarcely knew what they 
 were ; he was equally obliging to all parties, 
 and there were many differing sects of religion 
 in his parish ; every possible variety of sec- 
 tarianism flourished at Brigland, and they all 
 united in praising the curate's liberality. 
 
 There were also many members of the es- 
 tablished church in the parish ; but though 
 they all praised their curate, they did not all 
 very frequently attend his ministrations. Old 
 Mr. Martindale used facetiously to say, that he 
 should go to church much oftener if Mr. 
 Denver would make longer sermons, but that 
 it was so tantalising to be woke before his 
 nap was half finished. But Mr. Denver served 
 two other churches beside Brigland, and one 
 of them was almost eight miles distant, so he 
 
72 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 had not much time to spare on Sunday ; for 
 he had two services at his own parish, and 
 one every Sunday at the other two. 
 
 Our worthy curate was a married man, but 
 he had no family ; and that circumstance gave 
 him abundant opportunity to interest himself 
 about the affairs of all the town. Mrs. Denver 
 assisted him greatly in this public and universal 
 sympathy. Mrs. Denver was said to be a very 
 intelligent woman, and had enjoyed that re^ 
 putation for many years. Her maiden name 
 was Smith — no relation to old Richard Smith ; 
 and she had borne that name so long, that she 
 was tired of it, regarding it as Archbishop 
 Tillotson did the Athanasian Creed, wishing 
 that she " was well rid of it." Many people 
 thought that Mr. Denver married her from 
 a motive of pure good nature, because no- 
 body else was likely to marry her. She was 
 of high family " originally," as she used to say; 
 being descended from the Simsons of Devon- 
 shire, one of whom was knighted by Richard 
 the Third ; and she was very particular in stating 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 78 
 
 that her ancestors did not spell the name with 
 p, for that was an innovation, and it was a very 
 inferior family that was called Simpson. 
 
 All the gossip of the town and neighbour- 
 hood flowed to the parsonage as a centre, and 
 again flowed from it as from a perennial and 
 exhaustless fountain. In justice to the worthy 
 curate it must be stated, that so far as he was 
 concerned, there was nothing of censorious- 
 ness blended with his collecting and communi- 
 cating disposition : he was happy to hear in- 
 telligence, and pleased to spread it; but he 
 never pronounced an opinion as to the pro- 
 priety or impropriety of the matters of which 
 he heard and of which he spoke. It was not 
 exactly so with Mrs. Denver ; her candour was 
 not equal to that of her husband : not that she 
 was at all censorious, very far from it ; but she 
 could not help, as she said, feeling indignant 
 at the vices and wickednesses which abounded 
 in the world ; and she was certainly not to be 
 blamed for what she could not help. Some- 
 times she would even be angry with her hus- 
 band on account of the placidity of his temper ; 
 
 VOL. I. D 
 
74 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 and she would even acknowledge that she 
 could have no patience with the abominations 
 of the age. It must be also added, that Mrs. 
 Denver was not quite equal to her husband 
 in the virtue of liberality towards sectarians. 
 She had been brought up as a member of the 
 church established by law, and she could not 
 see how it was possible that any other religion 
 should be true ; and for her part, she was fully 
 determined not to countenance any false re- 
 ligion. It was rather unfortunate for the poor 
 woman, that, with the exception of the Martin- 
 dales, the principal people at Brigland were 
 dissenters ; and so there were two or three 
 drawing-rooms from which her orthodoxy would 
 have excluded her, but to which her love of 
 the good things of life attracted her. Mrs. 
 Denver was decidedly loyal : her reverence for 
 majesty was unbounded. She was so grateful 
 to Richard the Third for having knighted one 
 of the Simsons, that she thought she could 
 never say enough in favour of royalty. 
 
 Now it came to pass in the progress of 
 events, that while Mr. Martindale and Horatio 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 75 
 
 Markham were in Richard Smith's cottage, 
 Mrs. Price, the wife of Philip Martindale's 
 attorney, had gained a piece of intelligence 
 which, as she received it, was imperfect and 
 obscure, but which she hoped and trusted that 
 Mr. and Mrs. Denver might be able to eluci- 
 date and complete. She therefore made a 
 very early call at the parsonage, and began by 
 offering an apology for looking in so soon in the 
 day. The apology was most readily accepted : 
 for the good people of the parsonage knew that 
 Mrs. Price would not have called so early had 
 there not been something important to com- 
 municate. As soon as she was seated she 
 began : — 
 
 *' I suppose you have heard, Mrs. Denver, 
 of the sheriffs' officers being in possession at 
 the Abbey." 
 
 *' Sheriffs' officers in possession at the 
 Abbey ! Why, Mrs. Price, what do you 
 mean ?" 
 
 " Mean, Mrs. Denver ! why I mean what I 
 say ; there are two sheriffs' officers now at the 
 Abbey. They were sent in yesterday morning ; 
 
76 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 and old Mr. Martindale saw them there, and 
 asked them what business they had there, and 
 they told him that they were in possession ; and 
 the old gentleman asked what was the amount 
 of the claim, and it was such an enormous sum 
 that it was more than he could pay. I don't 
 know all the particulars, but I heard Oliyer 
 talking the matter over to my husband; and 
 Mr. Philip is gone to London in a hired chaise, 
 for they would not let him have his own car- 
 riage ; and he is gone to get some money of 
 the Jews. He intended to travel all night, that 
 he might get home early this morning, and 
 send the officers away before the old gentleman 
 could know any thing of the matter." 
 
 '* Bless me, Mrs. Price, why you astonish 
 me ! Who would have thought it? Well, that's 
 what I always said ; I knew it must come to 
 that. You know it was not likely that he 
 could ever support the expense of that great 
 house ; and really between ourselves, I never 
 thought that old Mr. Martindale was so very 
 rich as some people said." 
 
 ** I don't know whether the old man is very 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 77 
 
 rich," replied Mrs. Price; " I am sure the 
 young one is very poor. My husband has 
 advanced money to him which has been owing 
 a very long while ; and I cannot see any pro- 
 bability of his getting it again in any reason- 
 able time ; and then he cannot even pay the 
 damages in which he was cast in the action of 
 old Smith." 
 
 ** Oh, now you talk about old Smith," inter- 
 rupted Mrs. Denver, *' do you know any thing 
 about that man's history? for I scarcely ever 
 heard of him before this action took place. 
 Pray where does he live ?" 
 
 '* He lives in the lone cottage in Old Field 
 Lane, I understand. But there is something 
 very odd about that man. I thought perhaps 
 you might know something about him. As for 
 his being a poor man, I don't believe any such 
 thing. Every body says he has money ; and my 
 husband says that he is very sure that Flint 
 would never have undertaken that cause for a 
 poor superannuated labourer ; and then Flint told 
 ray husband that there was no hurry about the 
 damages. I very much doubt whether the 
 
78 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 man's real name is Smith ; for that is such a 
 very convenient name for any one to assume." 
 
 ** Well, I have never heard any thing of 
 him before ; but now you mention it, I think 
 I remember to have seen him one morn- 
 ing when I walked up to the spring with 
 Mr. Denver." 
 
 At this moment the reverend gentleman en- 
 tered the apartment where the ladies were con- 
 versing, and he was immediately assailed with 
 an impetuous torrent of interrogations from 
 both of them, as touching the birth, parentage 
 and education, life, character, and behaviour of 
 the above-named Richard Smith. To these 
 inquiries he returned answers not very satis- 
 factory ; and they all three began to blame 
 themselves and each other that they had suf- 
 fered the old man to settle quietly in the parish 
 without making due previous inquiry concern- 
 ing his history and origin. He had been, as 
 they all acknowledged, a very quiet, inoffensive 
 creature ; but quietness was sometimes a symp- 
 tom of mischief: it was so with children, and 
 why might it not be so with old men too. 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 79 
 
 Though Mr. Denver had it not in his power 
 to indulge Mrs. Price with any information, the 
 worthy lady was too generous to withhold from 
 him any information which it was in her power 
 to convey ; and she liberally repeated the story 
 of the bailiff being in possession at the Abbey, 
 and of the Hon. Philip Martindale having 
 made a journey to London for the purpose of 
 borrowing money of such as accommodated their 
 particular friends on the most liberal terms and 
 with the strictest secrecy. Mr. Denver was as 
 usual astonished, amazed, thunderstruck at all 
 that was told him. By the way, some of the 
 perpetual curate's good friends used to think 
 that the good man was not altogether judicious 
 in the use of the word *' thunderstruck," which 
 he always employed when he received any intel- 
 ligence from any of the ladies of Brigland. 
 
 Mrs. Price went on to say, that old Mr. Mar- 
 tindale had expressed his determination to dis- 
 inherit Mr. Philip ; but as that was a very par- 
 ticular secret, she begged that it might not be 
 mentioned. At hearing this request, Mrs. 
 Denver looked at her watch, for she thought it 
 
S0 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 high time that she should take her morning's 
 round, and endeavour to ascertain whether this 
 profound secret were known to any one else. 
 Mrs. Price took the hint, and departed. 
 
 It is by no means the best method to keep a 
 secret to endeavour to find out how many others 
 are in possession of the same. Many a secret 
 has been thus revealed, which might otherwise 
 have been inviolably and safely kept. On the 
 subject of keeping secrets, a great deal may be 
 said ; and the matter is surrounded with more 
 difficulties than superficial observers are api to 
 imagine. For what is the use or benefit of 
 knowing any thing, if we cannot let that know- 
 ledge be known. If a secret be confided to us, 
 an honour is thereby conferred ; but if that secret 
 be not by us again talked about, directly or in- 
 directly, how can the world know how much we 
 are honoured? Who would give a fig to receive 
 the honour of knighthood, if he were under an 
 obligation to let no one know it ? or who would 
 give fifteen pence (pounds some say it costs) 
 for a doctor's degree, if he could never blazon 
 the honour to the world ? We check ourselves 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 81 
 
 in the discussion with the consoling considera- 
 tion that our business is with facts not with philo- 
 sophy. Suffice it then to say, that before the 
 day closed, every inhabitant of Brigland who 
 had any care for other's business, knew that old 
 Richard Smith was mysteriously wealthy, that 
 bailiffs were in possession at the Abbey, that the 
 Hon. Philip Martindale was gone to London to 
 borrow money, and that old Mr. Martindale 
 would never speak to the young gentleman 
 again. Then every body began to think that 
 the Hon. Philip Martindale was the most pro- 
 fligate young man that ever lived ; then all his 
 follies became vices, and his irregularities most 
 horrible enormities; then the talk was very loud 
 concerning his pride and his overbearing man- 
 ners ; then Mrs. Dickinson, the landlady of the 
 Red Lion, began to fear that she should not bo 
 paid for her chaise. 
 
 The good people of Brigland were unneces- 
 sarily alarmed for the result of Philip Martin- 
 dale's indiscretions: it was not true that the 
 old gentleman knew for what purpose the 
 bailiffs were in the house ; nor was it probable 
 
82 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 that, had he known it, he would therefore have 
 cast off his dependent relative. Power is not 
 willingly or readily parted with. So long as 
 the honourable gentleman acknowledged by 
 endeavours to conceal his irregularities that he 
 stood in awe of his opulent relative, so long 
 would he continue an interesting oliject of 
 patronage to the old gentleman. As, however, 
 it may not be easy to gather from the floating 
 rumours of the gossips of Brigland what was 
 the real truth of the matter, it may be as well 
 to state explicitly that the Hon. Philip Martin- 
 dale had paid certain debts of honour with that 
 supply which Mr. Martindale thought had been 
 devoted to some other purpose, and an im- 
 patient creditor had actually put into force a 
 threat which he had made of sending officers 
 to the Abbey. The young gentleman had re- 
 course in this extremity to some good friends 
 in the city, by whose prompt assistance the 
 supplies were raised, and the Abbey was cleared 
 of those birds of ill omen. Oliver's story, as 
 we have seen, had satisfied the old gentleman ; 
 and he alone remained in ignorance of a fact in 
 
HANK AND TALENT. 83 
 
 his relative's conduct, which certainly would 
 have disturbed him greatly, but which would 
 not have provoked him to disinheriting. 
 
 By the same conveyance which brought the 
 means of liberating the Abbey, old Richard 
 Smith received through the hands of his attor- 
 ney a satisfaction also of his claim ; and as Mrs, 
 Price was all the day occupied in telling the 
 same story as she had told in the morning, it 
 came to pass that she told more lies at the end 
 of the day than she had at the beginning. In 
 the mean time, the day was passing rapidly 
 away, and Philip Martindale did not return, 
 Oliver was a little puzzled to account for this 
 delay to himself, but he could easily account 
 for it to the old gentleman. What a pity it is 
 that those ingenious gentlemen who can invent 
 lies for the satisfaction of others, cannot invent 
 any for the solution of their own difficulties. 
 Mr. Oliver was in some degree of alarm, lest his 
 stories, by some movement of his master, might 
 not well hang together; and had it not been 
 for some very natural fear that he might alto- 
 gether lose his character and his place, he pro- 
 
84 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 bably would have been provoked to tell the old 
 gentleman the truth : he considered, however, 
 that as he had so long played a double part, it 
 would be now too late to affect honesty. 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 85 
 
 CHAPTER Vt. 
 
 " I joy to see you here, but should have thought 
 It likelier to have heard of you at court, 
 Pursuing there the recompenses due 
 To your great merit." Tuke. 
 
 It is now high time to introduce more 
 particularly to our readers the Hon. Philip 
 Martindale. He has been glancing and flitting 
 before our eyes; but he has not stayed long 
 enough to be fairly seen and understood. He 
 did not appear to great advantage at the 
 assizes, where he sat laughing or sneering at 
 the progress of his own cause ; nor would he 
 
M- RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 have made a very imposing figure, bad we 
 opened upon him on the evening of the day 
 of the trial, when, on his return home, the 
 trusty Oliver announced to him the arrival 
 of two gentlemen, calling themselves sheriffs' 
 officers. To delay any longer to introduce 
 our honorable acquaintance to our readers, 
 would be intruding upon their patience beyond 
 reason. 
 
 The Hon. Philip Martindale finding that 
 it would not be possible to get rid of this en- 
 cumbrance by any other means than by dis- 
 charging the debt, and knowing that the debt 
 could not be discharged without money, and 
 knowing that money was not at that emergency 
 to be obtained but by the medium of the 
 people of Israel, sent his trusty Oliver to the 
 Red Lion to provide a chaise to carry him on 
 his way to London. It would be more agree- 
 able to us, if it were possible, to bring our 
 readers to an acquaintance with the honor- 
 able gentleman lolling in his own chariot, for 
 that would be more befitting his rank in 
 society, than to see him travelling in so plebeian 
 
RANK AND TALENT, 87 
 
 a vehicle as a hired chaise, drawn by a pair 
 of hack horses. But though the Hon. Philip 
 Martindale was a man of high rank, and some- 
 what proud of the station which he held in 
 society, he was not altogether unable or un- 
 willing to condescend ; and though the Den- 
 vers, the Flints, the Prices, and all the other 
 gentry, thought him a very proud and haughty 
 man, yet there were many in Brigland, many 
 in Newmarket, and many in London and its 
 vicinity, who could bear testimony to his 
 condescension. 
 
 To describe a journey to London in a post- 
 chaise, along thirty or forty miles of turnpike- 
 road, bounded on the right hand by hedges 
 and ditches, and on the left by ditches and 
 hedges, requires powers of description and 
 imagination to which we are too humble to 
 make pretension. As we are not presuming 
 to descant on the history of the journey, we 
 may as well say a word or two concerning the 
 person who took the said journey. We are 
 perfectly aware that it would be more artist- 
 like and effective, to let our characters speak 
 
88 RANK AND TALENTi 
 
 for themselves, and by their own acts or words 
 develope their own peculiarities ; but this is not 
 altogether possible to be done effectually ; for 
 the same words from different lips have a 
 different meaning ; and there is a peculiarity 
 of tone and accent and look which does much 
 towards rendering the character intelligible. 
 These matters may be imitated in the drama on 
 the stage, but they cannot be well transfused 
 into plainly-written dialogue. 
 
 Without farther apology, then, we proceed to 
 speak of the Hon. Philip Martindale some- 
 what more particularly. We speak of this 
 person in the first place, for that was a first con- 
 sideration with himself. He was tall, but not 
 thin ; rather clumsily formed about the shoul- 
 ders ; his gait was rather swaggering than 
 stately ; his features were not unhandsome, but 
 they wanted expression ; his manner of speak- 
 ing was not remarkable for its beauty, for he 
 had a habit of drawling which seemed to 
 strangers a piece of affectation ; his style of 
 dress was plain, somewhat approaching to that 
 of the driver of a coach, but any one might see 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 89 
 
 in a moment that he was a man of some con- 
 sequence. As to his mind, he was by no means 
 a blockhead or a simpleton ; nor was he to 
 be considered as ill-humored. He was of 
 an easy disposition ; and had he been placed 
 in a situation which required the exercise 
 of his mental powers to gain a living, he would 
 have passed for a man of very good under- 
 standing. 
 
 But there is one kind of capacity required to 
 gain a fortune, and another to spend it. Philip 
 Martindale possessed the former, but he wanted 
 the latter. Our readers are already aware 
 that the young gentleman had for a short time 
 assayed a professional life, and had given pro- 
 mise of fair success ; but when he found that a 
 title was awaiting him, and that a dependence 
 was offered him, he renounced his profession, 
 and gave up an independence for a dependence. 
 Now ever since he had changed his style of 
 life, he had changed his habits of social inter- 
 course. While he had chambers in the Tem- 
 ple, he had for companions men of literary 
 acquirements and taste ; and all he knew of 
 
90 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 the prowess and powers of the celebrated dog 
 Billy, or of the no less celebrated heroes of 
 the ring, was from the interesting and beautiful 
 reports which grace the columns of our news- 
 papers : he was then acquainted with no other 
 coachman than the driver of his father's carriage, 
 and he was not very intimate with him : at that 
 time he was as ignorant of the highest as he 
 was of the lowest ranks ; and if he occasionally 
 spent an evening at the Opera, he had nothing 
 to do but to attend to the performance. 
 
 But when his circumstances changed, all 
 other things changed too ; he renounced tlie 
 middle of society for the two extremes. It 
 was new for him to have expensive horses ; and 
 it was pleasant for him to talk knowingly about 
 what he knew imperfectly ; and coachmen, 
 grooms, and stable-boys, could talk best upon 
 a topic which was a favorite with him ; and 
 as he had never before been so flattered by 
 homage and deference, he thought that coach- 
 men, grooms, and stable-boys, were most delight- 
 ful companions ; and his acquaintance with 
 them extended and increased accordingly. 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 91 
 
 Then it was that he began to feel the pleasures 
 of high rank. Nobody can enjoy the pleasures 
 of high station who associates only with his 
 equals ; it is when he looks into the depths 
 below that he can feel his elevation. The ring 
 and the cockpit are most admirable con- 
 trivances to bring men of high rank to a full 
 sense of their dignity. The Hon. Philip Mar- 
 tindale used them abundantly, and doubtless 
 with great advantage. As he descended, so 
 also did he ascend ; and from association with 
 black legs, he became qualified to claim ac- 
 quaintance with the highest ranks in society. 
 The cockpit and the betting-table are very 
 appropriate vestibules to Almack's ; and the 
 slang of the stable is a very suitable accom- 
 plishment for a legislator. Farther particulars 
 concerning the Hon. Philip Martindale may be 
 learned from his history, as herein recorded. 
 
 As soon as the honorable gentleman arrived 
 in London, he proceeded forthwith to his ac- 
 commodating friends in the city, from whom 
 he procured the means of ridding the Abbey 
 of its unwelcome guests ; and it was his inten- 
 
92 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 tion to return immediately to dismiss the dis- 
 agreeable ones in person. But so full of 
 accident and event is human life, that this 
 intention was not put into immediate effect. 
 Just as our young gentleman had left the door 
 of a banking-house in Lombard Street, close 
 behind him, he saw on the opposite side of the 
 way an old, or more properly speaking a new 
 acquaintance, who was as familiar as an old one. 
 The personage in question wore a scarlet coat, 
 white hat, yellow silk handkerchief, and crim- 
 son face mottled with purple. Without bending 
 his body, or moving a muscle, he touched his 
 hat to the Hon. Philip Martindale, who most 
 graciously acknowledged the salute, and made 
 a movement to cross the way towards him ; 
 whereupon he of the crimson face and scarlet 
 coat hastened to anticipate his honorable friend ; 
 and the parties met in the middle of the street, 
 even as Napoleon Bonaparte and the Emperor 
 of Russia met in the middle of the river. 
 
 When the high-contracting parties were thus 
 met, the Hon. Philip Martindale commenced 
 ihe discourse by inquiring of his friend, who 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 93 
 
 was in the guards, that is, was guard to a mail- 
 coach, and who was addressed by the name of 
 Stephen, if he had succeeded in the commission 
 with which he had been intrusted: this com- 
 mission was the purchasing of a dog for fight- 
 ing. Stephen expressed his great concern that 
 this important affair had not been concluded ; 
 but he was happy to have it in his power to 
 say, that he had heard of a capital bull-terrier 
 to be disposed of at Finchley ; and as price 
 was no object, he hoped to bring him up next 
 journey. In the mean time, he was very glad 
 to inform his honour that he had that very 
 morning brought up a couple of game-cocks 
 in very high condition ; and if Mr. Martindale 
 would condescend to go as far as Tothill Street, 
 he might see them that very afternoon. 
 
 This was too strong a temptation for the 
 legislator to resist. Having therefore made 
 arrangements for remitting to Brigland the 
 means of discharging the claims upon him 
 which were most urgent, he resolved to remain 
 in town for that night at least, and leave it to 
 Oliver's ingenuity to account for his absence, 
 
94 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 if there should be any occasion to account for 
 it at all. He appointed, therefore, to meet his 
 friend Stephen in Tothill Street at five o'clock ; 
 and in the mean time, betook himself to a coffee- 
 house in the neighbourhood of Charing Cross 
 to fill up the interval. 
 
 This interval was exceedingly tedious. Th^re 
 were many newspapers in the room, but there 
 was nothing in them. There was a clock, 
 but it did not seem to go ; at least so he 
 thought, but after looking at it for a very long 
 time he found it did go, but it went very slowly. 
 Then he looked at his watch, and that went 
 as slow as the clock. Then he took up the 
 newspapers again one after the other very 
 deliberately. He read the sporting intelli- 
 gence and the fashionable news. But he did 
 not read very attentively, as he afterwards 
 discovered. Then he looked at the clock again, 
 and was almost angry at the imperturbable 
 monotony of its face. Then he took out his 
 pocket-book to amuse himself by reading his 
 memorandums, but they were very few and 
 very unintelligible. Then he rose up from his 
 
JIANK AND TALENT. 95 
 
 seat, and went to the window, and looked at the 
 people in the street ; he thought they looked 
 very stupid, and wondered what they could all 
 find to do with themselves. He looked at the 
 carriages, and saw none with coronets, except 
 now and then a hackney-coach. Then he began 
 to pick his teeth, and that reminded him of 
 eating ; and then he rang the bell, which pre- 
 sently brought a waiter ; and he took that 
 opportunity of drawling out the word "waiter" 
 in such lengthened tone, as if resolved to make 
 one word last as long as possible. 
 
 While he was occupied bodily with his sand- 
 wich, he was also mentally engaged in reflec- 
 tions on days that were gone ; and he could not 
 but think that his hours were not so heavy 
 when he was toiling at the study of law, as 
 now when his rank was higher, and when his 
 residence was one of the most splendid seats 
 in the kingdom. He thought it was very hard 
 that he should stand in awe of an old humorist, 
 and he had for a moment thoughts of emanci- 
 pating himself from trammels, and assuming 
 to himself the direction of his own actions ; 
 
96 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 but then, on the other hand, he also considered 
 that without the assistance of the old gentle- 
 man, he should not be able to clear off the 
 encumbrances with which his own hereditary 
 estate had been burdened by his anticipa- 
 tions. His only resource was an advantageous 
 match ; but the difficulty was how to accomplish 
 that object, and to preserve his dignity. 
 
 In the same street in which Lord Martindale, 
 his father, lived, there was an heiress, but not 
 altogether unobjectionable. Her origin was 
 plebeian ; her wealth was commercial ; her con- 
 nexions decidedly vulgar, notwithstanding all 
 her pains to keep them select, and to curtail the 
 number of her cousins ; her manners awkward, 
 and her taste in dress most execrable. When- 
 ever Philip Martindale felt impatient of con- 
 troul, he thought of Miss Celestina Sampson, 
 and of the many thousands which her industri- 
 ous father had accumulated by the manufac- 
 turing of soap ; and by thinking much on the 
 subject, he had been gradually led to consider 
 the match as not altogether intolerable. He 
 thought of many other persons of as high rank 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 97 
 
 as himself, and even higher, who had not dis- 
 dained to gild their coronets with city gold. 
 There was nothing glaringly or hideously vul- 
 gar in Miss Sampson's manners, though she was 
 not the most graceful of her sex. Then her 
 person was rather agreeable than otherwise, 
 especially when she was not over- dressed ; 
 and as for her cousins, they might be easily 
 cut. 
 
 In truth, these meditations had so frequently 
 occupied the young gentleman's mind, that 
 there began to be actually some talk on the 
 subject among the friends of the parties. These 
 thoughts were by some fatality passing in his 
 mind while he was waiting for the arrival of 
 the hour for which his engagement was made ; 
 and by a very singular coincidence he was re- 
 minded of Miss Celestina : for while he was 
 wishing the time to move more rapidly, there 
 entered into the coffee-room two young gentle- 
 men, who very noisily manifested their import- 
 ance. They lounged up to the table on which 
 the papers were lying, and each helped himself to 
 one ; then they sat down at separate and distant 
 VOL. I. E 
 
98 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 tables, each spreading his paper before him, 
 and lolling with his elbows on the table, and his 
 feet stretched out to the widest possible extent, 
 as if begging to have his toes trod on ; and 
 they ever and anon laughed aloud, and called 
 out the one to the other at any piece of intelli- 
 gence which excited their astonishment, or gave 
 occasion to witty remark. Among other an- 
 nouncements which they thus communicated to 
 each other, was a short paragraph in the 
 fashionable intelligence which had altogether 
 escaped the notice of Philip Martindale ; and 
 as its announcement was preceded by a very 
 loud laugh, his attention was especially drawn 
 to it, and it was as follows : 
 
 *' It is currently reported that the Hon. 
 Philip Martindale of Brigland Abbey, eldest 
 son of Lord Martindale, is about to lead to the 
 hymeneal altar the accomplished and beautiful 
 daughter and heiress of Sir Gilbert Sampson." 
 
 *' There, Smart," said the reader of the 
 above paragraph, ''you have lost your chance 
 for ever. What a pity it is you did not make 
 a better use of your time. By the way, do you 
 
RANK AND TALENT. . 99 
 
 know any thing of the Hon. Philip Martin- 
 dale?" 
 
 " I know nothing about him, except that I 
 have been told he is one of the proudest men 
 that ever lived ; and I can never suppose that 
 he would condescend to marry the daughter of 
 a soap-boiler." 
 
 " There is no answering for that," responded 
 the other; *' necessity has no law. Brigland 
 Abbey cannot be kept up for a trifle ; and if I 
 am not misinformed, this same Philip Martin- 
 dale has been rather hard run on settling-days." 
 
 At hearing this conversation, the young 
 gentleman was greatly annoyed ; and in order 
 to avoid any farther intelligence concerning 
 himself, he took his departure, for the hour 
 appointed for meeting his friend Stephen was 
 now very near at hand. He was in very ill- 
 humour with what he had heard, and was quite 
 shocked at the liberties which common people 
 took with the names and affairs of persons of 
 rank. He had composed in his own mind, and 
 was uttering with his mind's voice, a most elo- 
 
loo Rank and talent. 
 
 quent philippic against the daring insolence of 
 plebeian animals, who presumed to canvass the 
 conduct of their superiors; and he was dwelling 
 upon the enviable privacy of more humble life, 
 which was not so watched and advertised in all 
 its movements, till it occurred to him that 
 this publicity was one of the distinctions of high 
 life, and that even calumnious reports concern- 
 ing the great were but a manifestation of the 
 interest which the world took in their move- . 
 ments. It also came into his mind that many 
 of those actions which seem otherwise unac- 
 countable and ridiculous, owe their being to a 
 love of notoriety ; and he thought it not unlikely 
 that some of the great might play fools' tricks 
 for the sake of being talked of by the little. 
 So his anger abated, and he more than forgave 
 the impertinent one who had made free with 
 his name in a newspaper. 
 
 It has been said that we live in a strange 
 world. We deny this position altogether. 
 Nothing is less strange than this world and its 
 contents. But if we will voluntarily and wil- 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 101 
 
 fully keep our eyes closed, and form an imagi- 
 nary world of our own, and only occasionally 
 awake and take a transient glance of reality, 
 and then go back to our dreamings, the world 
 may well enough be strange to us. 
 
102 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 " How durst you come into this room and company 
 without leave ?" 
 
 KiLLEGREV.-, 
 
 Philip Martindale proceeded, as we 
 have stated, from the coffee-house towards 
 Tothill Street, with a view of keeping his 
 engagement with his friend of the scarlet coat 
 and crimson countenance. He had entered 
 into his memorandum-book the number of the 
 house to which he had been directed, but he 
 omitted as useful a notice, namely, to take down 
 the division or apartment in which the gentle- 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 103 
 
 man of the pit had his residence. For the fact 
 is, that the ingenious bird-feeder and fancier 
 resided in an upper apartment, nearer to the 
 sky by one flight of stairs than the Hon. 
 Philip Martindale imagined. The house was 
 a miserable contrast to the splendid mansion 
 which he had left. Whether it had ever been 
 cleansed either by paint or water, since the day 
 it was built, seemed a matter of doubt. The 
 windows had been broken, and had been mended 
 partially but not with glass. The very window- 
 frames seemed to be in such a state of dilapida- 
 tion that a breeze might blow them from their 
 position. 
 
 When the door was opened by a middle 
 aged female, whose miserable and dirty attire 
 made her look twenty years older than she was, 
 the olfactory nerves of the young gentleman 
 were assailed by a grievous combination of 
 various odours, among which onions, tobacco, 
 and gin, were the predominant. Asking of the 
 miserable being who opened the door whether 
 Clarke was within, he was told to walk up 
 
104 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 stairs. Very slowly and very cautiously did 
 he mount the creaking staircase, setting- his 
 foot gently and inquiringly upon each successive 
 stair to ascertain whether it would bear his 
 weight : of one or two he had so much distrust 
 as to step completely over them. 
 
 When arrived at the first landing-place, he 
 heard a multitude of voices, which he naturally 
 supposed to proceed from some gentlemen of 
 the fancy. Without knocking at the door, he 
 immediately let himself in, and found to his 
 great astonishment that he had mistaken the 
 apartment. He found himself surrounded by 
 a group of dark-complexioned, sallow-looking, 
 unshorn beings ; some of whom were sitting on 
 the floor, others on crazy boxes and broken chairs, 
 and all of whom were smoking cigars. The 
 dingy dress which they wore, and the faded 
 decorations which were suspended on their left 
 breast, immediately proclaimed them to be 
 emigrants. As soon as he entered the room, 
 their voices were stilled, and they turned their 
 inquiring and sickened looks towards him as if 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 105 
 
 to a harbinger of some intelligence of good. 
 The moment that he felt where and with whom 
 he was thus accidentally placed, his spirit sunk 
 within him ; and he did feel a deep compassion 
 for the miserable objects which surrounded 
 him. 
 
 One of the party, by the freshness of his dress 
 and the cleanliness of his person, appeared to 
 have arrived but recently among them. He 
 was a man of middle age, wearing a very re- 
 spectable military dress ; and though of thought- 
 ful look, he did not appear dejected or heart- 
 broken. To him Mr. Martindale addressed 
 himself in the Italian language, apologising for 
 his accidental and unintentional intrusion. The 
 stranger replied in English, spoken with a 
 foreign accent, but with tolerable fluency, stating 
 that he had just arrived in England, and being 
 directed to where he could find some of his 
 fellow-countrymen, he had but recently entered 
 the house, and was grieved to see them so 
 situated. He also said that he himself was 
 not much better provided for, but that his wife 
 and child were in England, though he could not 
 
106 RANK AND TALENT, 
 
 at present discover in what part of the country. 
 He said that he had received letters from them, 
 but that those letters were lost, with part of his 
 own luggage. But he trusted, he continued, 
 that he should find out, by inquiry, w^here his 
 family was ; and he concluded a long harangue 
 by asking Philip Martin dale, with great sim- 
 plicity, if he knew where Mr. Smith lived. 
 
 This is a question which wiser men than the 
 Hon. Philip Martindale would be puzzled to 
 answer ; and it is a question which weaker 
 men than he would have smiled at. He was 
 not a man without feeling, though he was a 
 man of the world ; and it excited in his mind 
 other thoughts and feelings than those of a 
 ridiculous nature, when he saw a foreigner in 
 England, whose discovery of his wife and child 
 depended on the finding out of the residence of 
 a person of so common a name as Smith. For- 
 getting, therefore, his engagement with Stephen 
 the guard, he set himself seriously and closely to 
 interrogate the poor man, in order to find some 
 better and more definite clue to the discovery 
 of his family than the name of Smith. Thereupon 
 
RANK AND TALENT. lOf 
 
 the countenance of the foreigner brightened up, 
 his eyes sparkled, and the tear was on his 
 cheek, when he said : 
 
 "Oh! sare, you are good. I thank you 
 much for your great trouble : you are all so 
 good in England to the poor estranger when he 
 is in misery. It is sad to leave my own land ; 
 but what am I without my poor child ?" 
 
 '' Well, my good friend," replied Philip, " I 
 hope and trust j^ou will find your child. But 
 surely you must have some other knowledge of 
 the person with whom your family is residing 
 than merely the name of Smith, You have 
 had letters from them, you say ; can you not 
 recollect from what place those letters were 
 dated?" 
 
 " Oh, no! I could not recollect it once: it 
 was no name in the geography ; it was in the 
 province." 
 
 " Then, of course, it was not London ;" re- 
 plied Mr. Martindale. 
 
 " No, no, no, it was not London ; it was in 
 the province : it was far away from London 
 thirty or forty mile." 
 
lOS RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 *' But did not you sometimes send letters to 
 your family, and can you not tell how you ad- 
 dressed your letters to them ? Perhaps if you 
 were to consider a little while, you might be 
 able to call to mind something that might assist 
 in discovering the place of their abode. If you 
 had letters, most likely some account w-as given 
 of the place where they lived : or if it were a 
 small village, they may have mentioned the 
 name of the nearest post-town." 
 
 " Oh yes, it was very pretty place. It was 
 thirty or forty mile from London. It was very 
 beautiful place. There was large, very fine 
 palace called Abbey. There was very fine 
 lake." 
 
 This description reminded Philip Martindale 
 of the place of his own residence, and he there- 
 fore asked if the name of the place was at all 
 like Brigland. The foreigner looked thought- 
 ful, and attempted to repeat the word, saying : 
 " Breeklan ! Breeklah !" Then, after a pause of 
 a few seconds, his features underwent a com- 
 plete change, and with a kind of hysteric laugh 
 or screech of exultation, he cried out : 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 109 
 
 ** Oh, that was it ! that was it ! Oh, good 
 sare, it was Breeklan — oh, tell me where is 
 Breeklan, and I will see my child and my dear 
 wife — oh, I will see them once again — oh, you 
 have save me from great misery." 
 
 Then he seized Philip Martindale's hand 
 and pressed it with great emotion, repeating 
 his solicitations ; and the tears rolled down his 
 cheeks, and he smiled with such an expression 
 of delight, that the young gentleman was 
 moved ; and after he had given some charitable 
 donations to the rest of the unhappy ones in the 
 miserable apartment, he proceeded to conduct 
 the newly-arrived stranger where he might 
 find a conveyance to take him to Brigland. 
 
 Philip Martindale then returned to the house 
 where the game-cocks were to be seen, and 
 there he met his friend Stephen the guard, and 
 some other friends of the fancy, by the fasci- 
 nations of whose sweet society he was detained 
 in the metropolis somewhat longer than he de- 
 signed, and by whose winning ways he found 
 himself poorer than was quite convenient. The 
 opinion he expressed concerning the fighting 
 
110 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 birds-— the particulars of the exhibition with 
 which he was afterwards favoured at the West- 
 minster-pit — the brilliant conversation in which 
 he there engaged — the bets which there he laid 
 and lost — the flattering homage which he there 
 received — the satisfaction which resulted from 
 it — all these and many other matters of a like 
 nature we pass over unrecorded ; trusting that, 
 where one reader blames the omission, fifty will 
 commend it. 
 
 But though we describe not these scenes, it 
 does not follow that we should pass them over 
 without reflection. One very natural reflec- 
 tion is, that gentlemen of high birth and estate 
 are much to be envied for the pleasure which 
 they enjoy in those scenes. There must be a 
 peculiar delight in such pursuits, or the super- 
 fine part of our species could not possibly con- 
 descend, for the sake of them, to associate on 
 most familiar terms with persons whose birth is 
 most miserably low, whose understandings are 
 most grievously defective, whose manners are 
 abominably coarse. Take from the side of one 
 of these honorables the jockey, the boxer, the 
 
RANK. AND TALENT. Ill 
 
 feeder, or the coachman, with whom he is all 
 courtesy and good humor and familiarity, and 
 place there a man of middle rank in society, 
 respectable in every point of view, with what 
 cool contempt would the dignity of high birth 
 regard him. One other reflection is, that 
 such pursuits ought to be calculated to raise 
 these said gentle and noble ones very high in 
 their own esteem, inasmuch as they are not 
 thereby raised in the esteem of others. Their 
 disinterested generosity is also much to be ap- 
 plauded, seeing that by thus lavishing their 
 wealth on those whose only support is the 
 gambling propensity of men of wealth, they 
 take away from the public a large number of 
 such as might otherwise have exercised their 
 wits in picking pockets or breaking into houses. 
 They who would suppress gambling deserve the 
 thanks of the ninnies who would be thus pre- 
 served from being plundered in an honorable 
 and gentlemanly manner ; but what would be- 
 come of the rogues and sharpers who live upon 
 the folly of right honorable and high-born 
 simpletons ? Politic morality is perhaps one of 
 
112 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 the greatest difficulties which legislators have 
 to contend with. Begging pardon for these 
 reflections, we proceed with our story. 
 
 We have stated that the Hon. Philip Mar- 
 tindale suffered in his purse from his visit to 
 the Westminster-pit. The following morning 
 he meditated much upon the subject ; and he 
 also applied the powers of his mind to th« ring, 
 and recollected that he had there oftentimes 
 suffered as much in his purse as some of the 
 pummeled heroes had in their persons. Then 
 while he was in the humor for thinking, he 
 endeavoured to calculate how much these 
 amusements had cost him ; and in the course of 
 that calculation it most unaccountably came 
 into his mind that many of the frequenters of 
 these exhibitions had no ostensible means of 
 living, and that they yet lived v/ell, and that 
 of course they must have lived upon him and 
 others of high rank and birth. Following that 
 train of thought, and finding that several of the 
 superfine ones who had formerly patronised these 
 sports had for some reason or other gradually 
 fallen off^ from them, he began to think that 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 113 
 
 he would also abstain from them, and confine 
 himself to the more respectable and gentleman- 
 like avocations of the race-course and the 
 hazard-table : for there he should meet with 
 a more numerous assemblage of persons of his 
 ov/n rank ; and as he had three horses entered 
 to run at Newmarket, and as one of these 
 was an especial favorite, he had some expec- 
 tation of retrieving his losses, at least in part. 
 He fully determined that he would no longer 
 associate with the vulgar ones of the ring and 
 the pit. Oh, what an excellent homily is an 
 empty purse ! 
 
 Now it happened very fortunately for the 
 trusty Oliver, and for his master too, that when 
 the latter had finished his meditations, and was 
 entering the shop of his gunsmith, he should 
 meet there his worthy friend Sir Andrew Fea- 
 therstone. The greeting was cordial; for the 
 meeting was agreeable on both sides. Sir 
 Andrew Featherstone was a baronet of very 
 ancient family : — that rendered him acceptable 
 to the Hon. Philip Martindale. But he had 
 other recommendations — he was the best-tem- 
 
114 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 pered man in the world. There are myriads of 
 this description. He kept a most excellent table, 
 had a capital pack of hounds, and two very 
 beautiful daughters, whom we shall have great 
 pleasure in introducing to our readers in due 
 course of time. The families of the Feather- 
 stones and the Martindales had been intimate 
 time out of mind ; and it was the wish of Sir 
 Andrew to marry one of his daughters to the 
 Hon. Philip Martindale. But the young gen- 
 tleman himself had never given the subject a 
 single thought. By one of those remarkable 
 coincidences which are happening every day, 
 Sir Andrew mentioned the archery-meeting, 
 and expressed a wish that Philip would honor 
 it with his presence. The young gentleman 
 found this reality as great a relief to his mind, 
 as his trusty Oliver had found the invention a 
 relief to his mind; and he immediately dis- 
 patched a note to his venerable relative, stating 
 his engagement, and fixing the day of his re- 
 turn to Brigland. 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 115 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 " A was an archer, and shot at a frog." 
 
 Anon. 
 
 The residence of Sir Andrew Featherstone 
 was called Hovenden Lodge ; why it was called 
 a lodge we cannot say. It was a large plain 
 house, situated in a small level park. The hand 
 of improvement had been very busy with it, but 
 the genius of propriety had not presided over 
 the improvements. Several different styles of 
 architecture had been introduced, and to very 
 ill eflfect ; for the very square broad-sided form 
 
116 RANK AND TALENT, 
 
 of the building rendered it unsusceptible of de- 
 coration. But Sir Andrew cared nothing about 
 it — he left all those matters to the ladies, who 
 gave directions according to their own taste or 
 lack of taste ; and all the return which he made 
 for their architectural diligence and their skilful 
 improvements was to laugh at what he called 
 their absurdities. The usual order was quite 
 reversed at Hovenden Lodge ; for while Lady 
 Featherstone and her two daughters, Lucy and 
 Isabella, were drawing plans, or marching about 
 the park, and pointing out to the architect the 
 improvements which they thought desirable, 
 Sir Andrew was standing by the kitchen fire 
 and lecturing the cook, or translating aloud 
 recipes from his favorite French cookery-book, 
 which was the only book that he had ever 
 purchased ; and very highly did he value it, 
 fancying that few persons in this kingdom were 
 aware of its existence. He often however had, 
 or we should more properly say, might have 
 had, the mortification of finding that he had 
 been translating from French into English that 
 which had been previously translated from 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 117 
 
 English into French ; for whenever his knowing 
 lady reminded him that any recipe was already 
 in the English cookery-books, he would always 
 contend for or discover some delicate variation 
 which gave the JrVench the advantage. He 
 thought, too, that there was a peculiar piquancy 
 in the French terms, and that there was a parti- 
 cular relish in foreign names, which he always 
 took care to utter, but which his obstinately 
 English organs of speech rendered mightily 
 amusing in their utterance. 
 
 The greatest evil of the archery-meeting in 
 Sir Andrew's opinion was, that it must be at- 
 tended only with a cold collation, and that 
 must be in a marquee. It had been discussed 
 repeatedly, but as frequently decided against 
 him, that it was absolutely impossible to have a 
 hot dinner. He did not like it, but he bore it 
 very good-temperedly; and was brimful of jokes, 
 ready to let fly with every arrow. 
 
 Lady Featherstone, who was never so happy 
 as when she was patronising, was delighted 
 with the thought of the long table under the 
 
118 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 marquee, and her own self smiling, nodding, 
 and bowing most gracefully to every body : she 
 could undergo a cold dinner every day of her 
 life, for the happiness of thinking that every 
 body said, ** What a charming woman is Lady 
 Featherstone !" 
 
 The young ladies were in proud arid confi- 
 dent expectation of winning the prize ; but in 
 still more proud and more confident expectation 
 of exhibiting their elegant selves to an ad- 
 miring multitude. This, indeed, is the great 
 beauty of archery ; it is an elegant exercise, or 
 in other words, it gives an opportunity to j^oung 
 ladies to exhibit themselves in elegant or at- 
 tractive attitudes ; and many a young woman 
 who would have scarcely any chance of a dis- 
 play, hereby acquires a right to be stared at 
 most perseveringly and inveterately. She may 
 be as long as she pleases taking her aim ; and if 
 she fears that she shall not hit the target, she 
 may take an aim elsewhere. 
 
 And it is a very pretty thing too for young 
 gentlemen in the last year of being at school. 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 119 
 
 or in the first of their undergraduateship. 
 Dressed in the archery uniform, they look so 
 very much like Robin Hood : they go back to 
 old times in almost more than imagination ; but 
 more especially, they have an opportunity of 
 playing off the polites. At all events, it is a 
 very innocent amusement ; and if properly ma- 
 naged by the lady-patroness, it may rise into 
 something of a matter of importance. If any 
 of the party be in possession of the powers of 
 eloquence, they may draw up a very pretty 
 report of the meeting; and the editors of country 
 papers will feel much honored by inserting 
 the said report ; and there will be a very pretty 
 sprinkling of very pretty compliments to the 
 very pretty young ladies, who may be compared 
 to Diana's nymphs ; and there may be quota- 
 tions from the old songs about Robin Hood 
 and Maid Marian ; and very pretty talk about 
 the greenwood shade and the merry born. 
 Then the editor of the newspaper sells an extra 
 number of papers, which are sent in different 
 directions to distant friends. 
 
 The display of beauty and fashion which was 
 
120 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 exhibited in Hovenden Park on the above- 
 named occasion, bids defiance by its brilliancy 
 to our powers of description. Sir Andrew 
 himself, though his occupation was gone for 
 that day at least, endured with a very good 
 grace his absence from the kitchen ; and was 
 prepared to hear and say all that was polite, 
 together with a little that was satirical. Before 
 the business of the day began, he said in the 
 hearing of the exhibitors : " Where shall I 
 stand to be most out of the way ; I think I had 
 better take my station in front of the target." 
 
 With many such sayings he entertained the 
 young people ; and some of the young ladies 
 laughed so heartily at his attempts at humor, 
 that they could hardly direct the arrows ; and 
 then, when any one shot very wide of the mark, 
 he smilingly said, " Well done, my good girl, 
 that's right, take care you don't spoil the target." 
 And notwithstanding all the frowns and rebukes 
 of Lady Featherstone, the facetious baronet con- 
 tinued his interruptions much to the amuse- 
 ment and a little to the annoj^ance of the party. 
 
 We should not have mentioned this crotchet 
 
RANK AND TALENT. l2l 
 
 of Sir Andrew's, but that we think it may be 
 not amiss to take this opportunity of observing 
 that persevering witticisms, forced out in rapid 
 succession on all occasions, and a series of smart 
 sayings, good, bad, and indifferent, uttered 
 without abatement, may often excite the out- 
 ward and visible sign of merriment long after 
 they have ceased to be agreeable. For laughter 
 is not always the sign of satisfaction, any more 
 than tears are always a token of sorrow. There 
 is no man, however stupid, who cannot occasion- 
 ally say a good thing ; and very few, if any, can 
 utter real wit in every sentence ; and miserable 
 is the annoyance of everlasting efforts at face- 
 tiousness. It is only tolerable in those who are 
 very young or very weak. 
 
 But as one great object of archery-meetings 
 is display, we should be guilty of injustice in 
 omitting to notice a young lady of the party, 
 who came with the full intention of eclipsing 
 every one there ; — and she succeeded. We 
 refer to Miss Celestina Sampson. She came 
 accompanied by her father. Sir Gilbert Sampson ; 
 who, though a new man, was very well received 
 
 VOL. I. F 
 
122 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 by Sir Andrew. Miss Sampson was not a 
 beauty, but was good-looking and rather pretty ; 
 of middle stature, light complexion, and fine 
 natural colour ; good-humored and cheerful ; 
 ambitious of elegance, but not well-informed as 
 to the means ; critical as to the externals of 
 behaviour, and much exposed herself to the 
 same kind of criticism ; sadly afraid of vulgarity, 
 though often sinning through mere ignorance. 
 Her appearance and dress attracted, as she 
 designed, universal attention; but not, as she 
 hoped, universal admiration. She had studied 
 costume with more zeal than taste ; and vibra- 
 ting between the costume of Diana and Maid 
 Marian, she at last appeared, if like any thing 
 at all, a tawdry imitation of Fatima, in the play 
 of Blue-beard. 
 
 As Sir Gilbert Sampson was also present, we 
 may say a word or two of him. He had been a 
 soap-boiler. True ; but what of that 1 — he had 
 retired from business, and had washed his hands 
 of soap. He had been a soap-boiler. True ; but 
 whose fault was that ? Not his own : he had no in- 
 nate, natural, violent, irresistible, unextinguish- 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 123 
 
 able propensity for boiling soap ; for if he had, 
 he would never have relinquished the pursuit. 
 The fault was his father's ; for had the father 
 of Sir Gilbert been a duke, Sir Gilbert would 
 never have been a soap-boiler. As to the rest, 
 Sir Gilbert Sampson was a man of good under- 
 standing, of extensive knowledge, possessing 
 strong natural powers of mind, and altogether 
 free from every species of affectation. 
 
 Lady Sampson had, while she lived, governed 
 by permission of her lord and master. She had 
 dictated concerning the petty details of life; and 
 after her death, her daughter reigned in her 
 stead. Sir Gilbert never troubled himself 
 about trifles ; but Miss Sampson took all that 
 care entirely off her father's hands. The plea- 
 sure of his life was the company of a few old 
 acquaintances ; but he tolerated parties when 
 Miss Sampson could manage to assemble them. 
 And this was not a difficulty, even though Sir 
 Gilbert had been a soap-boiler; for his cook 
 was not a soap-boiler, and his fishmonger was 
 not a soap-boiler, and his wine merchant was 
 not a soap-boiler. Sir Gilbert's dinners v, ere 
 
124 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 very excellent ; and those who partook of them 
 praised them much, and did not say a word 
 about soap while they were at dinner; and 
 that was very kind, and exceedingly conde- 
 scending : for it is a piece of great presump- 
 tion in a man who has acquired a property by 
 honest industry to give sumptuous entertain- 
 ments to those who are spending or who have 
 spent what their ancestors earned for them. 
 
 Enough for the present of Sir Gilbert Samp- 
 son. Be it however observed by the way, that 
 our good and facetious friend. Sir Andrew 
 Featherstone, regarded Sir Gilbert without any 
 feeling of aristocratic pride, and so did many 
 others of his acquaintance ; and that even 
 the Hon. Philip Martindale behaved very po- 
 litely to him, inasmuch as he was occasionally 
 under apprehension that it might be desirable 
 for him to disencumber and improve the 
 Martindale estate by the means of Sir Gilbert's 
 wealth. At this meeting, owing to previous 
 matters already recorded, the idea of the possi- 
 bility of Miss Sampson becoming Mrs., and, in 
 process of time, Lady Martindale, took very 
 
RANK AND TALENT, 125 
 
 strong hold of the young gentleman's imagina- 
 tion. He therefore, without being aware of 
 any difference in his manner, paid very extra- 
 ordinary attention to Sir Gilbert ; and as the 
 young lady observed this, and was rather ambi- 
 tious of the honor of so high an alliance, and 
 as she thought that the best way to make a con- 
 quest, or to secure one already made, was to make 
 herself agreeable ; and as she thought that the 
 best way to make herself agreeable was to put 
 herself very much in the way of the person to 
 whom she wished to be agreeable, and to talk 
 to him and listen to his talk, and smile at what 
 he said if he seemed to think it witty, and to 
 manifest that her attention was more taken up 
 with him than with any one else : Miss Sampson 
 acted upon this principle, but in the over-ofSci- 
 ousness of her zeal carried her system so far as 
 to make it almost a persecution. 
 
 As to the effect thereby produced upon the 
 Hon. Philip Martindale, very little if any pro- 
 gress was made in his affections. He was ac- 
 customed to homage and attention, and took il 
 
126 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 as a matter of course ; he had experienced 
 quite as much attention from the friends of 
 ladies of higher rank than Miss Sampson ; and 
 the charms of the young lady's person or con- 
 versation were nothing to him in his matrimo- 
 nial speculations. If Mr. John Martindale had 
 been a man of infirm health, and likely soon to 
 decide the question as to who should possess 
 his large property, Philip Martindale would 
 not have had any thought whatever of an 
 alliance so much beneath the dignity of his 
 rank and the purity of his blood ; or were the 
 old gentleman a little less capricious, or had 
 the young gentleman been a little more pru- 
 dent in the management of his affairs, then 
 Miss Sampson might have had the beauty of a 
 Venus, the wisdom of a Minerva, or the wealth 
 of Croesus, and these qualities would have 
 made no impression. On the other hand, under 
 the then present circumstances. Miss Sampson 
 needed not to take any pains to render herself 
 agreeable ; for had her person been deformed, 
 and her mind that of an idiot, yet her father, 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 127 
 
 by the accumulation of a large fortune, had 
 done quite enough to make her perfectly 
 agreeable. 
 
 And yet, notwithstanding all this confession 
 which we have made for Mr. Philip, we would 
 not have our readers to imagine that the young 
 gentleman was devoid of good qualities or good 
 feelings altogether ; he might not have been so 
 candid in his confession for himself as we have 
 been for him, but he was not altogether aware 
 of the influence of circumstances upon his 
 mind. He was placed in a certain rank in 
 society, and must keep up the dignity of that 
 rank ; and it was his misfortune if necessity put 
 him upon using means for that purpose not 
 quite in unison with his better judgment. 
 Royalty itself has not free choice in matters of 
 the heart ; and nobility, as it approaches royalty 
 in its splendour, is sometimes assimilated to it 
 in its restraints and perplexities. Still, how- 
 ever, making every concession which candour 
 and human kindness prompt us to make in be- 
 half of Philip Martindale ; and admitting all 
 the extenuations which a merciful advocate 
 
139 HANK AND TALENT. 
 
 could suggest, we cannot help thinking, and it 
 is our duty to say it, that if he had abstained 
 from the foolish and low pursuits of gaming in 
 all its varieties, and if he had cherished and 
 preserved that spirit of independence which his 
 excellent mother. Lady Martindale, had endea- 
 voured to instil into his mind, he might have 
 upheld the dignity of his rank, if he had sacri- 
 ficed a little of its splendour. But to our his- 
 tory. 
 
 We have mentioned as the patroness of the 
 archery-meeting, Lady Featherstone ; and we 
 have said that this lady had two daughters,; 
 Lucy and Isabella. It has also been observed 
 that Sir Andrew Featherstone felt a wish to 
 \mite one of these young ladies in marriage 
 with Philip Martindale. This was a very 
 natural ambition. The two families had been 
 intimate for several generations. The Martin- 
 dales had, by various circumstances, gradually 
 advanced in wealth ; but the reverse had been 
 the lot of the Featherstones, though they were 
 quite as old and good a family as the Martin- 
 dales. Singular indeed it was that the only 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 129l 
 
 person in the Martindale family who showed 
 any symptoms of alienation from the Feather- 
 stones was old John Martindale : the singularity, 
 however, consisted in this, that he had not shown 
 any coolness, or behaved with any reserve, on 
 the increase of his own property ; but he had 
 carried himself proudly towards them only since 
 his cousin had acquired a title of nobility and 
 had become a peer. Yet the old gentleman 
 professed to laugh at titles ; but nobody thought 
 that old John Martindale was a fool. 
 
 Sir Andrew Featherstone, being a good-hu- 
 moured man, took little notice of countless 
 insults, affronts, slights, and disrespectfulnesses, 
 whereby myriads of the human species are most 
 grievously tormented. He did not, therefore, 
 heed or observe the coldness of old Mr. Martin- 
 dale ; nor was he at all angry with Philip that 
 he gave much of his attention to Sir Gilbert 
 Sampson, and that he tolerated the attentions of 
 Miss Sampson. Lady Featherstone, however, 
 was more observant; and notwithstanding the 
 incessant and manifold attention which she paid 
 to all the party, could not help noticing how 
 very gracious Philip Martindale was with Sir 
 
130 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 Gilbert. Various were the stratagems by which 
 her ladyship endeavoured and contrived to place 
 Philip in juxtaposition with her daughters when 
 they adjourned to the collation ; and very 
 agreeable was her surprise when, after the 
 strictest observation, she did not discern any 
 wandering of the eyes of the young gentleman 
 towards that part of the table where Miss 
 Sampson was seated. Her fears were still far- 
 ther diminished, when she found that Miss 
 Sampson was deeply, and to all appearance 
 most agreeably, engaged in conversation with 
 a very elegant young gentleman, who seemed 
 almost as much pleased with Miss Sampson as 
 he was with himself. We owe it to our readers 
 to introduce this young gentleman, 
 
 Henry Augustus Tippetson was a gentleman 
 of good family, but being a younger brother, 
 and very indolent, was not likely to make any 
 great figure in the world. He was. of middle 
 stature; very slender, very fair, very near- 
 sighted when he happened to think of it; having 
 flaxen hair and blue eyes ; suspected, but un- 
 justly, of using rouge ; very expensive in his 
 dress, and one of Delcroix's best customers. 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 131 
 
 He was not one of the archers, though he had 
 once attempted to use a bow. He found that 
 the exertion was too much for him, and he 
 feared it might harden his hands. He ex* 
 pressed to Miss Sampson the same fears for 
 her ; but the young lady heeded not the appre- 
 hension. 
 
 Lady Featherstone was very happy to see 
 Miss Sampson so employed ; but when her 
 ladyship turned her attention to her own daugh- 
 ters and the gentleman whom she had seated 
 by them, not all her powers of penetration 
 could discover to which of the young ladies 
 Philip Martindale was paying the greatest at- 
 tention ; and most of all was her mind disturbed 
 by observing, that when he addressed himself 
 either to one or the other, though it was with 
 perfect politeness, it was with perfect indif- 
 ference. 
 
 The sports of the day were concluded by a 
 ball, which resembled in every point every 
 ball of the same character. There was the 
 usual allowance of dancing, negus, nonsense, 
 tossing of heads, sneering, quizzing, showing 
 
13g RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 off, blundering, and all the rest of that kind 
 of amusement. It enters not into our plan to 
 dwell any longer on this festival. We must 
 return to Brigland. 
 
RANK AND TALENT, 13^ 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 ** For fame, (whose journies are through ways unknown, 
 Traceless and swift and changeful as the wind,) 
 
 The mom and Hurgonil had much outgone. 
 While Truth mov'd patiently within behind." 
 
 Davenant, 
 
 From Hovenden Lodge, Philip Martindale 
 returned home ; and after finding every thing 
 as it should be at the Abbey, and arranging 
 with the trusty Oliver concerning uniformity 
 of narrative, he called upon the old gentleman 
 at the cottage. There he underwent a long 
 harangue on the folly of archery, and the silli- 
 
134 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 ness of Sir Andrew Featherstone, together with 
 a desultory dissertation on the frivolity of the 
 age in general. From which dissertation, it 
 was to be inferred that old John Martindale 
 was the only man living who had the least idea 
 of propriety and wisdom of conduct. 
 
 With becoming deference and submission, 
 the young gentleman gave his assent to what- 
 soever the senior was pleased to assert. This 
 is one of the greatest pains of a state of de- 
 pendence, that it robs a man of the pleasure 
 of contradicting ; and it is also one of the 
 greatest evils of holding intercourse with de- 
 pendants, that a man is thereby deprived of 
 the pleasure of being contradicted. These were 
 evils which the old and the young gentleman 
 both felt, but the old gentleman felt it most 
 deeply. Contradiction was so much his element, 
 that he could hardly live without it ; and rather 
 than not enjoy the pleasure of it, . he would 
 contradict himself. That must have been a 
 man of uncommon and high powers of mind, 
 who could so have managed the old gentleman 
 as to stimulate without offending him. The 
 
RANK AND TALENT. lB$ 
 
 Hon. Philip Martindale was not equal to it, 
 either from want of capacity or from lack of 
 attention and diligence. 
 
 When the old gentleman had finished a 
 tolerably long harangue on fools and follies of 
 all descriptions, it almost occurred to him that 
 if so great was the number of follies, and so 
 long was the list of fools, there could be little 
 else than folly in all human pursuits ; and that 
 he himself, in his own singularity of wisdom, 
 was something of a fool for being so outrage- 
 ausly wise, when there was nobody left to keep 
 him in countenance. Paradoxical as it may 
 sound, it is not far from truth that excess of 
 wisdom is excess of folly. The old gentleman 
 thought so when he said to his cousin : 
 
 ** I dare say now that you think me an old 
 fool for my pains, if you would be honest enough 
 to speak your mind." 
 
 Not waiting for a reply to this very wise, 
 though not very original remark, Mr. Martin- 
 dale continued his talk : ** I am sorry, Master 
 Philip, you thought fit to take yourself off" just 
 at the very moment that you were wanted, I 
 
13? RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 liave had a very pleasant and intelligent com- 
 panion at the cottage for the last two days, 
 I particularly wished to introduce him to you ; 
 I mean the young barrister, who pleaded old 
 Richard Smith's cause so temperately and so 
 successfully. I should have thought that the 
 company of an intelligent young man would 
 be far more agreeable than a set of idle gab- 
 bling chits, and an old simpleton of a baronet, 
 who has not an idea in the world beyond a 
 cookery-book. But every man to his taste." 
 
 '* I am sorry, sir," replied Philip, " that I 
 was not aware of your friend's being at Brig- 
 land. It would have given me great pleasure 
 to be introduced to him. He certainly con- 
 ducted his cause with great propriety, and did 
 not take, as some persons might have done, an 
 opportunity of insulting me." 
 
 " He did not conduct himself as your advo- 
 cate did, Master Philip ; he did not attempt 
 to convert a court of justice into a bear-garden, 
 or degrade the dignity of his profession by 
 playing the buffoon to make boobies laugh. 
 Mr. Markham is a man of good sense, and I 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 137 
 
 think his conversation would have been of 
 service to you : though he is a young man, he is 
 very extensively informed." 
 
 " I have not the least doubt of it," replied 
 Philip ; " I am only sorry that I was so un- 
 fortunate as to be out of the way when he was 
 here. I shall be more fortunate I hope another 
 time." 
 
 That was a lie ; but dependants must lie if 
 they would not lose their places. The Hon, 
 Philip Martindale recollected the time when he 
 was under no necessity of saying" the thing which 
 was not, when he was independent but of his pro* 
 fession ; but then he was not called the honour- 
 able, then he had no rank to support or dignity 
 to keep up. It was really mortifying and dis- 
 tressing to him that those very circumstances 
 to which he had looked with hope and pleasure, 
 and from which he had anticipated an accession 
 to his happiness through the gratification of his 
 pride, should become the means of annoying 
 him so keenly where he was most susceptible. 
 The dilemma in which he was placed was 
 grievously perplexing. Turn which way he 
 
138 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 would, mortifications awaited him. There was 
 the daughter of a retired soap-boiler on one 
 side; there was the son of a country shopkeeper 
 pestering him on the other. To go back to his 
 profession was quite out of the question. To 
 marry rank and fortune too was not in the com- 
 pass of probability. Oh, how perplexing and 
 troublesome it is that such perpetual encroach- 
 ments should be made upon persons of rank ; 
 so that notwithstanding all the care and pains 
 which they take to avoid it, they are perpetu- 
 ally brought into contact with the commercial 
 cast. Most deeply did Philip Martindale feel 
 this inconvenience, but he could find no remedy 
 for it. He had however one consolation, in the 
 thought that he was not alone in his sorrows. 
 He was acquainted with others who carried 
 their heads much higher than himself, who yet 
 suffered the convenient degradation of com- 
 mCTcial affinities. 
 
 ** Well, well," said the old gentleman, ** lam 
 sorry that Mr. Markham is gone ; and I fear 
 we shall not see him again very soon." 
 
 This was no subject of regret with the Hon. 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 139 
 
 Philip Martindale ; he was glad to hear that he 
 was not likely to be soon annoyed by an intro- 
 duction to a man of such equivocal rank as Ho- 
 ratio Markham. But seeing that his opulent re- 
 lative was very much pleased with this stranger, 
 he thought it might be agreeable if he made 
 farther inquiries ; he therefore asked, how it 
 happened that Mr. Markham had made so short 
 a visit. To his inquiries he received for an- 
 swer, that an express had arrived calling the 
 young barrister to London, and offering to his 
 acceptance a highly respectable legal situation 
 in one of the colonies. For this information 
 Philip was thankful ; and finding that there was 
 no danger of being compelled to realise his pro- 
 fession, he began to speak very highly of the 
 young barrister's moral and intellectual quali- 
 ties, and to express in still stronger terms the 
 sorrow he felt at not being able to have the plea- 
 sure of his acquaintance. Cunning as old Mt, 
 Martindale in general was, he was so far deceiv- 
 ed by these protestations, that he was put by them 
 into high good humour, both with himself and 
 his relative ; and then he went on to talk about 
 
140 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 Richard Smith and his niece. This, however, 
 was a topic not altogether agreeable to Philip ; 
 but the young gentleman so far succeeded in 
 explaining that affair, that Mr. Martindale was 
 ready to accept the explanation. He then 
 told Philip that Mr. Markham and he had 
 visited the cottage ; and so communicative and 
 good-humoured was the elder Martindale, that 
 he even repeated, as far as he could recollect, 
 what took place at that visit, and how he had cau- 
 tioned the young barrister not to lose his heart. 
 While this discourse was going on in the 
 cottage, the town of Brigland was agitated to 
 its very centre by a tragical event which had 
 occurred at old Richard Smith's cottage. Mul- 
 titudes of idle people were running from place 
 to place, full of dreadful news of a murder that 
 had been committed in the course of the pre- 
 ceding night. Almost every one had a differ- 
 ent story to tell ; and the affair lost nothing of 
 its horror and mystery by being transmitted 
 from one to another. Mr. Denver, as in duty 
 or in habit bound, brought the tidings to Mr. 
 Martindale at the cottage. The story, as re- 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 141 
 
 lated by the good-humoured perpetual curate, 
 spoke of poor old Richard Smith as having 
 been murdered by the gipsies, and of his niece 
 being carried away nobody knew where. Upon 
 cross-examination, however, it was elicited that 
 Mr. Denver had acquired his information by a 
 very circuitous route ; for he had heard Mrs. 
 Price and Mrs. Flint both at once telling a 
 different version of the - same story to Mrs. 
 Denver, who, while those two ladies were 
 speaking narratively, noisily, and contradicto- 
 rily, was herself also talking exclamatively and 
 interrogatively. The ladies who communicated 
 the event to Mrs. Denver had received their 
 information also from compound sources, but 
 both were satisfied that they had received their 
 intelligence from the best authority; and in 
 order to prove that they were both rightly in- 
 formed, they both of them talked very loudly 
 and very rapidly. 
 
 Mr. Denver must have been a very clever 
 man under such circumstances to have made out 
 any story at all ; and he was a very clever man 
 in such matters, and very much experienced in 
 
142 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 carrying and collecting intelligence : indeed, 
 the mode above stated was that in which he 
 usually acquired his knowledge. Practice gives 
 great facility. But it must be acknowledged, 
 notwithstanding all Mr. Denver's accuracy and 
 dexterity, that there were in his narrative some 
 errors. It was not true that Richard Snaith 
 had been murdered ; and it was not true that 
 his niece had been carried away by violence or 
 otherwise. These were the only two errors in 
 the whole account. Much more however was 
 reported, which Mr. Denver did not relate; and 
 that which he did not relate was the part to 
 which was most especially applicable that pathos 
 of look and exclamation with which he intro- 
 -duced his narrative. This part of the story 
 unfortunately was not true ; we say unfortu- 
 nately, because it is really mortifying to the 
 multitude when investigation and inquiry de- 
 prive them of the richest part of a most hor- 
 rible story. It was not likely that Mr. Den- 
 ver should mention this part of the report when 
 he saw Mr. Philip ; for it was to that gentleman 
 that it referred. 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 143 
 
 The report was, that Richard Smith had 
 been murdered by some ruffians who had been 
 employed by the Hon. Philip Martindale to 
 carry off the niece of the poor old man. There 
 was mention made of a fierce-looking military 
 man, who was to all appearance a foreigner, 
 who had been seen lurking about Brigland 
 Common, and conversing with the gipsies that 
 had but recently made their appearance there; 
 and one person actually saw this foreigner enter 
 the lane where old Smith's cottage stood. All 
 this part of the tale was very properly and very 
 considerately omitted by Mr. Denver, who was a 
 very candid man ; and who thought that if it 
 were true, it would in proper time transpire ; 
 and that if Mr. Philip had employed ruffians to 
 carry off the young woman, he might have his 
 own reasons for it. 
 
 At the hearing of this very serious story, the 
 two Martindales expressed their horror and as- 
 tonishment ; and Philip immediately asked Mr. 
 Denver why he had not gone to the old man's 
 cottage, in order to make some inquiry about 
 the matter : to which interrogation Mr. Denver 
 
144 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 gave no answer. The retailers of intelligence 
 would indeed lose many a choice and delightful 
 story, if they were to take great pains to inves- 
 tigate the matter before they talked about it. 
 
 Philip Martindale requested Mr. Denver im- 
 mediately to accompany him to the spot, that 
 they might be assured whether or not any 
 violence had been used, and whether there was 
 any necessity for the interference of a magistrate. 
 In their way they called on the constable, who 
 was frightened out of his wits at the thought 
 of going into a house where a man lay mur- 
 dered. But the presence of Philip Martindale 
 inspired him with an extraordinary share of 
 courage. As they proceeded, they saw groups 
 of people standing here and there, discussing 
 with great gravity, the mysterious affair of the 
 old man's cottage. They looked with great ear- 
 nestness on Mr. Martindale and his companions ; 
 and their murmurings and whisperings grew 
 thicker and deeper. 
 
 When at length they arrived at the cottage, 
 they found it surrounded by a crowd of women 
 and children, and idle girls and boys. The 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 145 
 
 women were all talking, and the g-irls and boys 
 were clambering up to the cottage- windows, or 
 were mounted on trees that were near, as if to 
 catch a glimpse of something within the cot- 
 tage. At the approach of Philip Martindale 
 and his party, the boys and girls slunk down 
 from the windows ; the women stayed their 
 loud talking ; the whole multitude buzzed with 
 low whisperings ; and the faces of all were 
 turned towards the magistrate, who was hastily 
 dragging the clergyman by his arm, and was 
 followed at a very respectful distance by the 
 constable. 
 
 Not staying to make any inquiries, Philip 
 Martindale hastily opened the door of the 
 cottage, and leading in Mr. Denver, he turned 
 round and urged the constable to make haste in. 
 When he entered the apartment, he saw pre- 
 sently that one part of the clergyman's narrative 
 was incorrect, namely, that which referred to 
 the murder of old Richard Smith ; for there sat 
 the old man in life and health, but apparentlv 
 in a state of great agitation, unable to answer 
 a word to the impatient and numerous inter- 
 
 VOL. I. G 
 
146 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 rogatories of Philip Martindale and Mr. Den- 
 ver, A very short interval elapsed, before 
 there appeared from an inner-room a person 
 who was likely to be able to give some rational 
 account of the mystery. This person was a 
 surgeon. As soon as he heard Mr. Martind ale's 
 voice, he came forward to explain the affair. 
 
 "Pray, Mr. Davis," exclaimed the magis- 
 trate, "what is the cause of all this bustle 
 and confusion ? Mr. Denver has been informed 
 that this poor man was murdered. What has 
 given rise to such a rumour ?" 
 
 " I am happy to say, sir," replied Mr. Davis, 
 " that there has been no life lost, though there 
 was great danger of it; and I fear that this 
 poor man will suffer seriously from the agitation 
 which he has undergone. If you will give me 
 leave, sir, I will tell you all the particulars. 
 A little better than an hour ago, just as I was 
 preparing to go my rounds, a boy came run- 
 ning almost breathless into my surgery, im- 
 ploring me to make all the haste I could up to 
 old Richard Smith's cottage, for there was a 
 man there who was so dreadfully wounded that 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 147 
 
 he was almost killed. Of course I made the 
 best of my way here ; and when I arrived, I 
 found the poor man sitting, as he is now, quite 
 speechless ; and while I was endeavouring to 
 learn from him what was the matter, there 
 came into the room a gentleman, who spoke 
 like a foreigner, and asked if I was a surgeon, 
 and begged me to step into the back room ; there 
 I found upon the bed one of the gipsies that 
 have been here for some days, just at the edge 
 of the common. They are gone now, all but 
 this man. I found, sir, that this man had been 
 severely wounded with a pistol-ball, and that 
 he had suffered much from loss of blood. I 
 immediately dressed the wound, which is by 
 no means dangerous, and then inquired of the 
 foreign gentleman what was the cause of the 
 accident ; for I could not get a single word 
 from the man himself. It appeared, sir, from 
 the account which the stranger gave me, that 
 the gipsey had broke into the cottage in 
 the night, or rather early in the morning, and 
 that he was threatening to murder this poor 
 old man if he would not tell where his money 
 
148 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 was. The stranger hearing a noise in the apart- 
 ment where Richard Smith slept, listened, and 
 soon ascertained the cause of it ; fearing that 
 the robber might have fire-arms in his posses- 
 sion, he seized a pistol, and without farther 
 thought entered the room, and discharged it 
 at the robber. The gentleman also informed me 
 that he heard the voices of persons outside the 
 cottage, but that after he had discharged the 
 pistol, they retreated. He tells me that Rich- 
 ard Smith, in consequence of the fright, has not 
 been able to speak since." 
 
 On hearing this account, Philip Martindale 
 expressed a wish to see the foreigner, of whom 
 Mr. Davis had made mention ; and upon his 
 introduction, he immediately recognised the 
 Italian whom he had met in London a day or 
 two ago. The poor foreigner looked full of 
 concern for the hasty manner in which he had 
 acted, and seemed to fear that he had violated 
 the law. He made many apologies to Philip 
 Martindale, whom he presently recognised as 
 a person of some importance; but his mind 
 was soon set at ease, when he was informed 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 149 
 
 that what he had done was perfectly legal. 
 He then repeated with great energy the obli- 
 gations under which he lay to his very good 
 friend, who had so kindly assisted him in find- 
 ing his wife and child. 
 
 The next step was the committal of the 
 wounded man for burglary ; and upon the as- 
 surance of Mr. Davis that he might be safely 
 moved, the commitment was accordingly made 
 out ; and the stranger, who gave his name as 
 Giulio Rivolta, was bound over to give evi- 
 dence at the trial. 
 
 Matters being thus arranged, Philip and the 
 clergyman returned to give the old gentleman 
 a more accurate version of the story than he 
 had before heard. Mr. Denver underwent, as 
 was usual, a lecture from the old gentleman, on 
 the folly of telling stories just as he heard them, 
 without taking any trouble, to ascertain as he 
 easily might in most cases, whether those said 
 stories were true or false. And when the truth 
 of the matter came to be generally known in 
 Brigland, every body laughed at every body 
 for circulating, inventing, and believing im- 
 
150 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 probable tales ; and all the idle, gossiping 
 people in the town, went about from house to 
 house, complaining, bewailing, and lamenting, 
 that Brigland was the most idle, gossiping, 
 censorious place in the world. But still it was 
 insinuated that there was something very mys- 
 terious in the business, which was not yet 
 brought to light. There was more talk than 
 ever concerning Richard Smith ; and nobody 
 could recollect when or how he first came to 
 take up his abode at Brigland. 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 151 
 
 CHAPTER X, 
 
 *''This fellow is wise enough to play the fool, 
 And to do that well craves a kind of wit ; 
 He mast observe their mood on whom he jests, 
 The quality of persons and the time." 
 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 The time was now arrived for Brigland 
 Abbey to become the scene of festivity and 
 hospitality. Under the direction and with the per- 
 mission of old Mr. Martindale, the young tenant- 
 at-will assembled at his splendid residence a set 
 of people called his friends ; but why they were 
 called his friends is difficult to say, unless they 
 
152 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 were so designated for want of some other 
 comprehensive name. Two of the party cer- 
 tainly were his friends ; and well would it have 
 been for him, had he availed himself more of their 
 friendship, and been ruled by their advice. We 
 allude to his father and mother, Lord and Lady 
 Martindale. 
 
 It is with great pleasure that we introduce 
 to our readers a pair so truly respectable and 
 honorable in every point of view. High rank 
 certainly displays to great advantage those 
 qualities which it is unable to give. Common- 
 place minds do very well in common-place 
 situations. It is sad indeed if they whose time 
 is fully occupied by the duties of their station, 
 and whose employments are marked out for 
 them, should widely or grossly deviate from 
 propriety: they have, comparatively speaking, 
 but little room or time for folly. But they 
 who have the direction of all their time, the 
 choice of all their pursuits, need great steadi- 
 ness of mind, and a strong sense of propriety 
 to avoid follies and extravagance. They who 
 have nothing to do have much to think of, and 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 153 
 
 they need to be vigilant ; and when their con- 
 duct is indeed proper and good, then high, rank 
 and the leisure which wealth bestows appear 
 to great advantage. 
 
 Thus honorable and reputable was the con- 
 duct of Lord and Lady Martindale. His lord- 
 ship's estate was not very large for his rank, 
 yet quite large enough for him to make a fool 
 of himself had he been so inclined : — he was 
 wealthy enough to be his own coachman had he 
 been so disposed, or to benefit the country by 
 playing at cards and dice at Newmarket in 
 order to improve the breed of horses : — he 
 might have immortalized himself on the canis- 
 ters of a snuff-shop, or by the cut of a coat ; — 
 he might have run away with his neighbour's 
 wife, or have insulted and neglected his own : 
 — he might have spent more money upon his 
 dogs than upon his children : — he might have 
 sought for distinction through the medium of 
 cookery, and have become so excessively refined 
 as to ask if Captain Cook had not in one of his 
 voyages seen a nation of cannibals who ate roast 
 beef and drank port wine : and by many other 
 
154 BANK AND TALENT. 
 
 fooleries, equally reputable, he might have 
 tempted the multitude to ask what lords were 
 made for. 
 
 In like manner her ladyship might have done 
 her part towards the dilapidation of their pro- 
 perty. She might have spent a year's, income 
 in a single entertainment : — ^she might have sent 
 her jewels to the pawnbroker's to pay her gam- 
 bling-debts : — she might have forgotten the 
 names and number of her children : — she might 
 have been so superbly ignorant as not to know 
 whether the kitchen was at the top of the 
 house or at the bottom : — she might have played 
 as many mad pranks as others in high life have 
 done ; but she coveted not that species of noto- 
 riety which arises from violating the principles 
 of decorum and common sense. 
 
 The life of this truly respectable couple was 
 not however indebted for its respectability 
 merely to the absence of vice and folly. They 
 cultivated positive as well as negative virtues. 
 When they went into the country, it was for 
 some better purpose than to be stared at ; and 
 when they resided in town, they did not con- 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 155 
 
 vert their house into a place of public amuse- 
 ment. The tenants in the country knew of 
 their landlord's presence there because they saw 
 him not only in the field, but in their houses ; 
 and he saw that his steward neither oppressed 
 the tenants, nor defrauded his master ; and the 
 poor people in the cottages saw him, and the la- 
 bourers too could tell him their grievances, if 
 they had any. Lady Martindale was also ac- 
 tively benevolent, — not merely giving away a 
 periodical lot of advertised blankets, or a few 
 bushels of coals to such as would take the trou- 
 ble to fetch them ; but she knew to whom her 
 benevolence was directed, and considered rather 
 what the poor had need to receive than what 
 might best suit her to bestow. There was the 
 same activity of benevolence when they were in 
 town ; and it was regulated there also by the 
 same principle of propriety, not of convenience 
 or fashion. 
 
 There was, however, in Lord Martindale one 
 fault, and that in his son was almost a virtue, 
 in consequence of its accompaniments — he had 
 a great share of pride. He never spoke to or 
 
156 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 conversed with any of his inferiors, but that his 
 style always proclaimed him a man of rank and 
 consequence. We much doubt if, in the days 
 when angels visited the sons of men, these hea- 
 venly visitants behaved with much more stately 
 reserve than did Lord Martindale in his walks 
 and visits of benevolence ; or whether they 
 showed so great a sense of their superior na- 
 ture as he did of his superior rank. In this re- 
 spect Lady Martindale had the advantage of 
 his lordship. Nobody could help noticing her 
 very graceful and digmfied deportment ; but the 
 most humble never felt humiliation in her pre- 
 sence. 
 
 It was a pity that so excellent a couple were 
 not more fortunate in their eldest son ; but it 
 was happy for them that they were not quite so 
 much aware of the contrast as some of their 
 neighbours were. It is not for us to propound 
 theories of education, nor do we know of any 
 one system which has been infallible in its ap- 
 plication and universal in its success. We can 
 only state the fact that Lord and Lady Martin- 
 dale did not neglect the moral education of 
 
RANK AND TALENT, 157 
 
 their children, nor did they carry discipline so 
 far as to render re-action a necessary conse- 
 quence. They were not low in their tastes, or 
 headstrong in will ; but their eldest son followed 
 a line of action almost diametrically opposite to 
 theirs. We do not represent, or at least we have 
 not designed to represent, the character of 
 Philip Martindale as being inveterately and 
 unexceptionably vicious : we do not regard him 
 as a monster of iniquity, but, according to the 
 candid interpretation of Mr. Denver, he was 
 rather a gay young man ; and being unfortu- 
 nately acquainted with some irregular com- 
 panions, he had been occasionally led into follies. 
 But, to proceed in the candid strain, he had not 
 a decidedly bad heart ; for he was not gra- 
 tuitously vicious, and he was not altogether in- 
 sensible to the emotions and feelings of huma- 
 nity. Yet notwithstanding all our disposition 
 to candour, we must acknowledge that the 
 temper, tastes, and conduct of the Hon. Philip 
 Martindale did occasionally lead him into morti- 
 fications and sorrows. 
 
 We are not expected to enter so minutely 
 
158 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 and copiously into the description of the cha- 
 racters of the other guests at Brigland Abbey, 
 as we have into the characters of Lord and Lady 
 Martindale. Of Sir Andrew Featherstone and 
 his lady and daughters we have already spoken. 
 Our readers too are not altogether unacquainted 
 with Sir Gilbert Sampson and his daughter 
 Celestina. Sir Gilbert and Lord Martindale 
 were very good friends; and Sir Gilbert was 
 astonished that Lord Martindale should not be 
 more sensible of his son's follies, and Lord Mar- 
 tindale could hardly think it possible that a man 
 of Sir Gilbert's good understanding could tole- 
 rate such ridiculous affectations in his daughter. 
 In addition to these guests at the Abbey, 
 there were also present the Dowager Lady 
 Woodstock and her four daughters, Anne, Sarah, 
 Jane, and Mary. Lady Woodstock was the 
 widow of a baronet, whose services in the navy 
 the country had repaid, with little more than a 
 title ; but we would not say a word in censure of 
 such economical remunerations, nor, on the other 
 hand, would be very censorious, if the recom- 
 pense had assumed the more solid form of a 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 159 
 
 noble pension. We have read, and have in our 
 political feelings profited by reading, the fable 
 of the old man, his son, and his ass, and we 
 know how difficult it is to please every body. 
 We know that if the government does not re- 
 ward its servants liberally, they will be very 
 angry; and we know that if it does reward them 
 liberally, others will be very angry. But let 
 that pass. It is, however, a fact, that Lady 
 Woodstock and her four daughters lived at 
 Hollywick Priory in very good style, consider- 
 ing the limited means which they possessed. 
 They were also very highly respected, and very 
 much talked about as being persons of very su- 
 perior minds and most amiable dispositions. 
 They had cultivated their understandings ; and 
 indeed the pursuit and enjoyment of literature 
 was the only occupation in which they could 
 engage. They had no house in town, nor had 
 they the means of splendid hospitality in the 
 country. But what is most to our present pur- 
 pose, they were one and all great favorites 
 with old John Martindale. Lady Woodstock 
 was a woman of great delicacy of feeling, and 
 
160 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 was most scrupulously adverse to any thing like 
 exhibiting her daughters, or as it were carrying 
 them to market. It was only in consequence of 
 the very earnest and almost angry importunity 
 of the old gentleman that she would consent to 
 share the festivities of Brigland Abbey. And 
 when that paragraph appeared in a morning 
 paper, announcing the approaching nuptials of 
 the Hon. Philip Martindale and Miss Sampson ; 
 and when she knew that Sir (jilbert and his 
 daughter were to be of the party, her reluctance 
 abated. For though Lady Woodstock would 
 have despised the use, and dreaded the repute, 
 of stratagem to dispose of her daughters, she 
 would not have been sorry to have them or any 
 of them well settled. 
 
 As to the report that old Mr, Martindale 
 himself had any design of offering his hand to 
 the widow, the lady herself had not the slight- 
 est suspicion of the existence of such design, or 
 even of the circulation of any such report. Lady 
 Woodstock was a person of good sense and ex- 
 tensive information ; but, happily, free from 
 every species of pedantry ; totally unpretending 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 161 
 
 jand unartificial. She had pursued knowledge 
 as the means of an agreeable occupation, and 
 not as a medium of display or exhibition. She 
 had read much, and had reflected more ; so 
 that her conversation was not the idle echo of 
 others' thoughts, but the result of her own 
 mind's movements and observation. Under 
 such direction and tuition, her daughters liad 
 grown up to womanhood. 
 
 The young ladies were not distinguished for 
 any great share of personal beauty, nor wxre 
 they remarkable for any deficiency in that re- 
 spect. They were not romantic, nor were they 
 deficient in sensibility. They could talk well, 
 but did not utter oracles or speak essays. 
 They were not merely acquainted with books 
 but with what books taught. They were. also 
 v/ell aware that the knowledge which they 
 possessed was in all probability possessed 
 by others ; and that many with whom they 
 might converse were far better informed than 
 themselves. They did not set up for literai'y 
 ladies on the strength of having read Locke's 
 Essay, or being acquainted with a few Italian 
 
162 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 poets. Ill fact, they had read to good purpose, 
 and had thought to good purpose too. The 
 worst of the matter was, there were four of 
 them ; and they were so nearly alike in moral 
 and mental qualities, and so much together, and 
 in such perfect confidence with each other, that 
 there was not opportunity and distinctness enough 
 for any one of the four to make an impression, and 
 preserve or strengthen it. For if, by chance, 
 any susceptible youth, who might be desirous of 
 choosing a wife for her moral and mental qua- 
 lities, should be seated next to or opposite to 
 Miss Woodstock, and should by hearing very 
 sensible and unaffected language fall from her 
 lips, or by observing in her smiles or more 
 serious looks an indication of excellent moral 
 feeling, find that his heart was almost capti- 
 vated ; probably on the following morning chance 
 might place him near another sister with whose 
 taste he might be fascinated, and whose most 
 agreeable manners would make him almost re- 
 gret that he had already lost so much of his 
 heart ; and while he might be balancing in his 
 mind on which of the two his affection should 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 163 
 
 rest, a farther acquaintance with the family 
 would still farther unsettle and embarrass his 
 judgement ; and he would at length conclude 
 that, as it was impossible to be in love with four, 
 he could not really be in love with any ; and 
 the result would be general commendation and 
 respect ; and the four young ladies would be 
 left to enjoy their reputation of being the most 
 agreeable, unaffected young women living. 
 
 Visiting in the country is what must be done ; 
 but there is some difficulty in managing it well, 
 and making it perfectly agreeable.. The enter- 
 tainer must be entertaining, or the entertained 
 will not be entertained ; and the entertained must 
 endeavour to entertain themselves, or their en- 
 tertainer cannot entertain them. The Hon. 
 Philip Martindale was not the most dexterous 
 hand at this kind of employment. In fact, he 
 felt himself not altogether master of his own 
 house ; and the good people who were there 
 seemed rather to be visiting the house than its 
 occupier. They did very well at dinner-time. 
 Then there was amusement for all, adapted to 
 the meanest capacities. There was also in the 
 
164 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 mornings for the gentlemen the pleasure of shoot- 
 ing ; or, more properly and accurately speaking, 
 the pleasure of looking for something to shoot 
 at : for as Philip Martindale was not very po- 
 pular at Brigland, the poachers made a merit of 
 plundering him with peculiar diligence. It also 
 happened that the gentlemen who were at the 
 Abbey were none of them very keen sportsmen. 
 Sir Gilbert Sampson carried a gun, and occasion- 
 ally discharged it ; sometimes successfully, and 
 sometimes unsuccessfully; and, in the latter 
 case, Sir Andrew Featherstone laughed at him, 
 and said it was a sad waste of shot, for powder 
 alone would make noise enough to frighten the 
 birds : and then he would ask Philip Martin- 
 dale if small shot were not very useful to clean 
 bottles withal. 
 
 As for old John Martindale, he was so per- 
 verse and obstinate that he would scarcely ever 
 join the party at the Abbey till dinner-time ; 
 and then he would complain of late hours, and 
 sit till midnight or later grumbling at the 
 foolish fashion of turning night into day. Se- 
 veral mornings were wet, very wet : there was 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 165 
 
 no getting out of doors, and the Abbey was 
 very ill-furnished with playthings. The young 
 ladies could draw. The Miss Featherstones 
 were adepts especially in architectural drawing. 
 They sketched the interior of the principal 
 apartments in the Abbey; and talked very 
 learnedly of Palladio and Vitruvius, and Sir 
 Christopher Wren and Mr. Nash, and others. 
 They thought that Waterloo Place was not 
 equal to the Parthenon, and St. Paul's Cathe- 
 dral was not equal to St. Peter's. They 
 talked about the building in which they were 
 then sitting, demonstrated that it was the most 
 beautiful and best proportioned building in the 
 world, and then proceeded to show how much 
 more beautiful it misfht be made. As the 
 
 o 
 
 party had nothing else to do, they were very 
 happy in listening to the architectural lectures 
 of the Miss Featherstones. 
 
 There were more wet mornings than one ; 
 and as the Miss Featherstones had succeeded 
 so well once in lecturing on architecture, 
 they repeated the experiment. It was rather 
 wearying, but it was better than nothing. On 
 
166 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 the morDing of which we speak, old John 
 Martindale was present. Contrary to his usual 
 practice, the old gentleman made his appear- 
 ance soon after breakfast, to congratulate them, 
 as he said, on a fine wet morning. It appeared 
 as if his object was to see what the party would 
 do to amuse themselves and one another. The 
 Miss Featherstones had recourse to their port- 
 folio of plans and drawings, and sections, and 
 elevations; and these they spread out on the 
 table, in order to excite admiration, and to 
 prompt discussion. Old Mr. Martindale was 
 so perverse that he would not take any notice 
 of the display ; and the rest of the company 
 had already, on a previous occasion, said all 
 that they had to say. Isabella, the youngest 
 of the Miss Featherstones, prided herself on 
 her very superior wisdom, and therefore was 
 very much disconcerted that any one should 
 slightingly regard her favorite study ; and es- 
 pecially was she disturbed that Mr. Martindale, 
 who clearly had so great a taste or fancy for 
 that pursuit, should behold unmoved, and with- 
 out the least affectation of interest, a splendid 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 167 
 
 display of architectural drawings, and give no 
 heed to the very philosophical remarks which, 
 in her wisdom, she was making on the various 
 styles of building. Determining, therefore, to 
 compel the attention which she could not 
 attract, she addressed herself directly to the 
 old gentleman, asking his opinion of a design 
 which she had drawn for the improvement of 
 Hovenden Lodge. The answer which the 
 old gentleman gave was so very uncourteous, 
 that we almost blush to repeat it. Looking 
 very sarcastically at the inquirer, he said : 
 
 " Hovenden Lodge, madam, is not yet quite 
 spoiled by the improvements ; but if you take a 
 little more pains, I think you may make it one 
 of the most ridiculous buildings in the kingdom." 
 
 In justice to Mr. Martindale, we are bound 
 to state that he would not have made such an 
 observation to every one ; but he knew Miss 
 Isabella, and was sure that no very serious ef- 
 fects would follow from any severity of remark 
 which he might make. And the result was as 
 he had anticipated : for the young lady was not 
 a whit abashed, but the rather encouraged to 
 
168 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 proceed, and to rieply according to the spirit of 
 the' old gentleman's remark. 
 
 *' I think I shall endeavour to persuade papa 
 to build a gothic front to Hovenden Lodge, in 
 imitation of Brigland Abbey ; and then, Mr. 
 Martindale, I suppose you will acknowledge that 
 it is really improved." 
 
 " And then. Miss Isabella, I will piill down 
 the front of Brigland Abbey, and supply its 
 place by an exact imitation of the present front 
 of Hovenden Lodge ; and then it will be a dif- 
 ficult matter to decide which is the greatest 
 blockhead. Sir Andrew Featherstone or old 
 John Martindale." 
 
 ** Upon my word, Mr. Martindale, you are 
 very polite," replied Isabella, almost angry at 
 being outdone in the way of banter. 
 
 " No such thing, madam, I am not polite. I 
 am not fond of nonsense ;" and then, in order to 
 soften in some degree the apparent ruggedness 
 of his manner, he added : " But if you have a 
 taste for architecture, I shall be very happy to 
 show you some engravings and drawings whi^h 
 I brought with me from Italy. You shall come 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 169 
 
 down to my cottage to-morrow morning, and 
 you will find some pictures worth looking at.'* 
 
 " When were you in Italy, sir ? I never 
 heard of it." 
 
 " Perhaps not. I was there twenty years 
 before you were born." Mr. Martindale then 
 turned away from the table, and looking out 
 at window, declared that there was no occa- 
 sion for any one to stay within on account of 
 the weather ; and, by way of setting an exam- 
 ple to the rest of the party, he directly walked 
 out alone. Isabella was pleased at the promise 
 of poring over some architectural drawings, and 
 most especially delighted with an opportunity 
 which seemed to be promised of talking about 
 Italy. It was a place which she had never 
 visited, but she was proud of an acquaintance 
 with its poetry and topography. 
 
 Since the peace of 1815, such myriads of 
 people have visited France, that Paris has be- 
 come as vulgar as Margate, It is most ear- 
 nestly to be desired that the plebeian part of the 
 community will not pollute with their presence, 
 or profane v/ith their prate, the classic plains, 
 
 VOL. I. H 
 
170 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 groves, temples, and cities of Italy. The esta- 
 blishment of steam-packets threatens the en- 
 croachment ; and then the resource of the fa- 
 shionable must be Constantinople ; from whence, 
 perhaps, they ultimately maybe driven onwards 
 to Ispahan and Delhi. The East India Com- 
 pany will not let them go to Canton. 
 
 The rest of the party gradually dispersed, 
 most industriously and diligently bent on seek- 
 ing some amusement wherewith to while away 
 the weary hours which must be got rid of by 
 some means or other before dinner. Let not 
 the reader lightly regard this fact ; for it is one 
 of the greatest difficulties in the life of some 
 persons at some periods of the year. There are 
 to be found in this world not a few who are 
 abundantly able and willing to reward with 
 great liberality the genius who should be fortu- 
 nate enough to discover or invent an infallible 
 method of rendering it pleasant or tolerable 
 to wait for dinner in the country. 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 171 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 " The truth you speak doth lack some gentleness, 
 And time to speak it in ; you rub the sore 
 When you should find the plaster." 
 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 Wandering in various directions, and en- 
 gaged in divers pursuits, the visitors at Brig- 
 land Abbey were dispersed, to fill up the 
 dreary morning hours. To follow them all is 
 impossible ; and to follow most of them would 
 be uninteresting and uninstructive. Leaving, 
 therefore, unobserved, all but Lady Woodstock 
 
172 RAMK AND TALENT. 
 
 and her eldest daughter, who reluctantly suf- 
 fered themselves to be accompanied in their 
 walk by Sir Andrew Featherstone, we will 
 attend these three in their morning's ramble. 
 
 With the scenery of the Abbey itself, and 
 its park, our readers are partly acquainted. 
 They know that the house stood on an open and 
 gracefully sloping lawn ; and that behind it 
 rose a dense plantation, or rather wood. This 
 wood was in one direction very extensive ; but 
 its breadth rendered it little more than a belt, 
 which divided a tract of uncultivated land from 
 one which was most highly embellished by art 
 as well as by nature. In front of the Abbey, 
 as far as the eye could reach, the land was 
 highly cultivated, and thickly studded with 
 trees and human dwellings. At the back of 
 the wood the land was open and unenclosed ; 
 for the soil, if soil it might be called, was but a 
 very thin stratum of light earth; through which, 
 at short intervals, appeared the bare or moss- 
 covered rock, which was the basis of the whole 
 district. One part of this open space bore the 
 name of the Common ; and it was partly sur- 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 173 
 
 rouiided by a few miserable cottages : beyond 
 that it bore the name of Brigland Heath. There 
 was one advantage, however, in this barren 
 scene ; that the ground, being very high, 
 afforded extensive prospects, keen air, and dry 
 footing. There had been formerly a passage 
 through the wood from the park to the com- 
 mon ; but since the erection of the Abbey, that 
 path was no longer used : there remained, how- 
 ever, a serpentine-road towards the heath ; and 
 at the end of this road stood one of the park- 
 lodges, on the borders of the heath ; and as the 
 lodge was built to correspond with the style of 
 the Abbey, it formed a very beautiful object in 
 that otherwise dreary situation. 
 
 To this open and extensive heath the three 
 above-named betook themselves for the sake of 
 enjoying the fine air and wide scenery. Sir 
 Andrew Featherstone, who was very ready 
 with his quaint remarks when any thing was 
 said or done at all susceptible of ridiculous 
 construction or comment, was mute as fish, and 
 awkward as a fish out of water, when his com- 
 pany was decidedly serious. Though the face- 
 
174 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 tious baronet very promptly offered, or rather 
 urged his services to accompany Lady Wood- 
 stock to the heath, yet before the party had 
 made much progress. Sir Andrew felt himself 
 almost vreary of his charge. He had made 
 several attempts at talk, and had failed ; and to 
 the few remarks uttered by the ladies, as he 
 was not prepared with a lively or witty reply, 
 he returned none at all, or such a one as did 
 not by any means promise to be productive of 
 further colloquy or discussion. Happy to avail 
 himself of any thing which afforded a prospect 
 of a subject for discourse, as soon as they had 
 passed the lodge, the worthy baronet most for- 
 tunately descried at a little distance a great 
 concourse of people issuing from that part of 
 the wood which bordered on the common, and 
 apparently surrounding a funeral procession. 
 The multitude took the direction towards the 
 town ; and the curiosity of Sir Andrew and his 
 party being excited by the unusual number of 
 people who surrounded the procession, took the 
 same direction, and arrived at the church-yard 
 almost as soon as the funeral. Curiosity is 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 175 
 
 contagious ; few can resist the impulse to gaze 
 upon a spectacle surrounded by many spec- 
 tators. The party from the Abbey were curious 
 to know who and what it was which excited so 
 very general an interest. They approached as 
 near as they could, without forming part of the 
 crowd. They waited till the coffin was depo- 
 sited in the earth ; and as many of the crowd 
 stayed to gaze into the grave where the body 
 was laid, the mourners in returning from the 
 church-yard were less encumbered by the 
 curious multitude, so that they were distinctly 
 visible. The procession of the mourners was 
 but short, yet several of them were real 
 mourners. There is something very touching 
 in the struggle which real sorrow makes to 
 calm its agitation, and to suppress its tears ; 
 and there sometimes is a strong and deep 
 feeling which tears or loud laments might 
 relieve, but which, from a sense of its own 
 intensity, dares not indulge in those expressions 
 over which it might have no controul, or in 
 yielding to which it might be betrayed into 
 extravagance. This was a feeling which mani- 
 
176 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 festly had possession of more than one of the 
 mourners, who had attracted the curiosity 
 of Sir Andrew Featherstone and the ladies 
 that were with him. The keenness of their 
 sorrow prevented Lady Woodstock and her 
 daughter from gazing upon them with an eye 
 of too curious inquiry. To gaze upon the 
 afflicted without a look of sympathy is very 
 cruel; and to look with compassion upon the 
 I'ye that is full of tears, which it would fain 
 suppress, does but still more unnerve the sor- 
 rowing heart. Lady Woodstock observed that 
 the principal mourners were two females, who 
 appeared, by their resemblance to each other, 
 to be mother and daughter ; and the scene 
 brought to her recollection the time when she 
 herself, accompanied by the daughter who was 
 then leaning on her arm, did, in violation of 
 the practice of the world, follow to the grave 
 the remains of her beloved husband : nor were 
 the recollections of her sorrows painful when 
 thus brought back to her mind, but the rather 
 was there a pure and holy pleasure in the tear 
 which rose to her eye at the thought of the 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 177 
 
 past, SO that she felt more than satisfied at 
 having in that instance dared to be singular. 
 Fashion forms pleasant leading-strings for those 
 minds which are too weak to walk alone. The 
 mind of Lady Woodstock was not of that 
 description. 
 
 Sir Andrew Featherstone inquired of one of 
 the spectators what was the name and character 
 of the deceased, who seemed to have occupied 
 so large a share in the interest and sympathy 
 of the people of Brigland. He was informed 
 that the name of the departed was Richard 
 Smith ; that he was a poor man whom nobody 
 knew much about ; but that lately a report was 
 spread abroad that he was a rich man and a 
 miser, and that, instigated probably by that re^ 
 port, one of the gipsies that had lately been in 
 that neighbourhood, had broken into his cottage 
 with the intent of robbing him ; but there hap- 
 pened to be in the house with him at the time 
 a foreign officer whose wife was related to 
 Richard Smith, and this stranger wounded the 
 gipsey so severely, that he was not able to effect 
 his escape, and he was therefore sent off to the 
 
178 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 county jail ; and that the old man was so dread- 
 fully alarmed, that he soon after died in conse- 
 quence of the fright. It appeared also from 
 the informant, that the unusual number of per- 
 sons congregated to witness the funeral was 
 owing to the singularity of the circumstances 
 of the old man's death, and also to the desire 
 felt to see the foreigner and his family ; for the 
 two females were, one of them the wife, and the 
 other the daughter of the foreigner. The 
 youngest of the two was the young woman of 
 whom mention has before been made, as being 
 the niece of old Richard Smith. This narrative 
 happened to be somewhat more correct than 
 many narratives which are thus picked up by 
 an accidental inquiry. The account, however, 
 of the motive which prompted the attendance of 
 so many spectators of the funeral, in some de- 
 gree disappointed the expectation of Lady 
 Woodstock and her daughter; for they had 
 promised themselves the pleasure of hearing an 
 account of some specimen of humble virtue 
 and extensive benevolent influence in a com- 
 paratively low sphere of life. They could not. 
 
HANK AND TALENT. 179 
 
 therefore, but painfully smile at the thought 
 that accident and unessential circumstance 
 should excite an interest so strong and ex- 
 tensive. 
 
 At all events, serious feelings had been ex- 
 cited in the minds of the ladies ; and even Sir 
 Andrew himself partook of them, and no longer 
 tasked his imagination for something remark- 
 ably witty or singular wherewith to amuse his 
 companions, but very suitably and decently 
 joined his companions in that species of talk 
 which minds of their description would natu- 
 rally have recourse to on such an occasion. 
 And really, Sir Andrew could talk very well 
 and very rationally when he was once set in the 
 right key ; but generally he seemed to think it 
 necessary, in order to make himself agreeable, 
 to be always uttering some quaint saying that 
 should make his hearers laugh. He too often 
 forgot that that which is very well as seasoning, 
 is very unpalatable as food. This is a simile 
 drawn from Sir Andrew's favorite pursuit, 
 which was the art of cookery, as we have above 
 named. 
 
180 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 When the party was assembled at dinner, it 
 so happened that the old gentleman, Mr. John 
 Martindale, took his seat at the side of Lady 
 Woodstock, or to speak more definitely, caused 
 Lady Woodstock to take a seat at his side. 
 Some elderly unmarried gentlemen are remark- 
 able for their love of monotony and exactness^ 
 always choosing the same seat, and ever going 
 through the same daily routine. It was quite the 
 reverse with John Martindale. In his own re- 
 sidence there was nothing of uniformity, and in 
 his own habits there was nothing like regularity - 
 He would sometimes rise at four or five, and 
 sometimes not till eleven or twelve ; and more 
 than once he has been known to breakfast one 
 day at the very same hour, at which he had 
 dined the preceding day. He had the same 
 crotchet in other houses where he could take 
 the liberty, and in fact would rarely enter any 
 house in which he was not so indulged. When 
 he was at the Abbey, it was his very frequent 
 practice to take a seat at table before any of the 
 rest of the party, and to call some one by name 
 to sit by him ; and on these occasions he was 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 181 
 
 generally very talkative ; but if he were silently 
 inclined, he would go creeping to the lower end 
 of the table like a humble tolerated guest, and 
 never speak but when spoken to; and that 
 was not frequently when amongst those who 
 were acquainted with his habits. The present 
 was not the first time that he had so distin- 
 guished Lady Woodstock; indeed, so frequently 
 on other occasions, and at other tables, had he 
 singled out this lady, that it is not to be wondered 
 at that a rumour should have gone abroad of 
 an intention on the old gentleman's part to 
 make her ladyship an offer of his hand. To say 
 the truth, even Philip himself began to have 
 some apprehensions, and rather to increase in 
 his polite attentions to Miss Sampson. 
 
 " Now pray, madam," said Mr. Martindale, 
 in a very loud voice, " how have you been 
 amusing yourself this morning? I suppose you 
 would have stayed within all the morning study^ 
 ing architecture, if I had not mercifully driven 
 you out to breathe a little wholesome air. You 
 have not such fine air at Hollywick as we have 
 
182 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 on the heath. You have been walking that 
 way I presume." 
 
 Lady Woodstock gently replied : ** Sir An- 
 drew Featherstone was so polite as to accom- 
 pany me and one of my daughters in a ramble 
 on the heath." 
 
 *' Sir Andrew was very polite, indeed," re- 
 plied Mr. Martindale ; " and I have no doubt 
 you had a most delightful walk. Sir Andrew 
 made himself very agreeable, I hope ; he is a 
 witty man. But how is it, my good lady, that 
 you look so unusually grave ? Have you been 
 laughing so heartily at Sir Andrew's wit, that 
 you have no more smiles left for us ?" 
 
 Her ladyship then explained, and said that 
 she really did feel rather more serious than 
 usual. She then related what she had seen 
 and heard that morning. Mr. Martindale lis- 
 tened with great attention to her narration, and 
 as soon as it was concluded, he abruptly turned 
 round and addressing himself to his relative 
 exclaimed : " Philip, do you hear that ? The 
 poor old man who brought the action against 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 188 
 
 you the other day is dead and buried. Lady 
 Woodstock has been at his funeral this morn- 
 ing ; and I think you should have been there 
 too, if you had a spark of grace about you, young 
 man." 
 
 '' You astonish me, sir," replied Philip; " I 
 had not heard that the poor man was ill." 
 
 *' Ay, but you ought to have known it. Did 
 not you tell me the other day that he was so 
 terrified at the gipsey breaking into his dwelling 
 and threatening his life, that he was quite 
 speechless. You ought to have made inquiries 
 about him. If the poor man did bring an ac- 
 tion against you, you ought not to bear malice." 
 
 The Hon. Philip Martindale was most deeply 
 mortified at being thus lectured at his own 
 table, and schooled in the presence and hearing 
 of his guests. To be dependent is bad enough ; 
 but to be thus publicly exposed as it were, is 
 one of the severest parts of dependence. He 
 had never felt any thing so mortifying while 
 he was in chambers in the Temple ; and he could 
 not help thinking that those former acquaint- 
 ances towards whom he had carried himself 
 
184 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 with proud and haughty reserve, would now 
 look down on him with a much better grace 
 than he could ever have looked contemptuously 
 on them. The feeling of littleness is a very 
 painful feeling, especially to one who has sacri- 
 ficed his independence for the sake of the sem- 
 blance of greatness. This was the case with, 
 Philip Martindale, whose dependent condition 
 was entirely on his part wilful and volun- 
 tary. He had been cautioned by his most 
 excellent mother, but he gave no heed to her 
 admonitions. Lord and Lady Martindale felt 
 on this occasion almost as much mortified as 
 the young gentleman himself: indeed, there 
 was at the table a general feeling of awkward- 
 ness and constraint. Philip himself was so far 
 moved, that though he trusted not himself to 
 the language of resentment, he could not alto- 
 gether suppress a look of indignation at being 
 thus accused of bearing malice against a poor 
 old man. After a little interval of embarrass- 
 ment, he ventured to say something in vindi- 
 cation of himself; but the very language and 
 manner which he used, sufiiciently manifested 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 185 
 
 that he was fearful of offending the old gen- 
 tleman, and left a very unpleasant impression 
 on the mind of Lady Martindale. 
 
 In the evening of that day, Lady Martindale 
 took occasion to converse with her son on the 
 subject of his dependent situation, and to urge 
 upon him the propriety of renouncing a patron- 
 age of such a mortifying nature. Her reason- 
 ing was very good, and her arguments for the 
 most part unanswerable. It was very true that 
 no confidence could be placed in the whims 
 and caprices of a wealthy old humorist. He 
 might, notwithstanding his advanced years, 
 take it into his mind to marry. He might 
 find out some new favourite on whom he might 
 bestow the greatest part of his property. He 
 would in all human probability live many years ; 
 and his capriciousness might, and most likely 
 would, rather increase than diminish. Lady 
 Martindale also reminded her son, that the allow- 
 ance which he received from the old gentleman 
 was barely sufficient to meet the increased ex- 
 penses of so large an establishment ; so that 
 although he had the honor of living in a splen- 
 
186 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 did mansion, he was rather poorer than richer 
 by the change. To all this not a word of ob- 
 jection could be made ; but there was an argu- 
 ment unnamed which had more weight with 
 the young gentleman than all those which Lady 
 Martindale had used. He was aware that he 
 had so far anticipated that he must be indebted 
 to other means than his own hereditary pro- 
 perty, or the result of his own professional dili- 
 gence, to get rid of the encumbrance. It was a 
 truth, though a painful one, that he could 
 never keep up his dignity but by continuing his 
 dependence. His answers, therefore, to Lady 
 Martindale's persuasions, were such as gave 
 her no hopes of success. As for returning to 
 his profession, his own pride forbade that, and 
 his " dread of shame among the spirits be- 
 neath." 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 187 
 
 CHAPTER XTI. 
 
 •Whilst I remember 
 
 Her and her virtues, I cannot forget 
 
 My blemishes in them." Shakspeare. 
 
 In pursuance of the promise made by old 
 Mr. Martindale, Miss Isabella Featherstone, and 
 others of the party who had no other amuse- 
 ment in view, went the following morning to 
 the cottage to look over the prints and draw- 
 ings. The old gentleman had no light task to 
 find and set in order his dispersed treasures : 
 for his pictures were, as his books, in every 
 part of the house, not even excepting the 
 
188 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 kitchen. He had risen early in order to find 
 them ; and it had been to him a task not without 
 labour, though accompanied also with some 
 powerful and interesting feelings. He had 
 been looking back to past times and to years 
 long gone by. He had been conversing with 
 his former self, and had revived the forms of 
 old acquaintances long since dead. He saw 
 them again, and heard them again : their faces 
 gleamed upon him through the lines of many 
 an old engraving. He saw again, after dust 
 had long covered, and darkness had long con- 
 cealed them, drawings of many a palace in 
 Rome, in Naples, in Venice, from the con- 
 templation of which he had imbibed his love 
 of architecture; and he began, as he looked 
 back into the past, to entertain some feelings of 
 regret. Almost every body looks back to the 
 past with regret, especially old bachelors. By 
 this employment the feelings of the old gen- 
 tleman were greatly excited, and he began to 
 be almost sentimental ; so that when his visitors 
 arrived at his cottage, he received them, not 
 as usual with the odd manners of a humorist, 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 189 
 
 but with a most courteous and old-fashiooed 
 politeness. 
 
 Isabella Featherstone observed his altered 
 manner, and supposed that he was endeavouring 
 to make amends for his abrupt and uncourteous 
 manner of the preceding day. All the party, 
 indeed, thought that a remarkable change had 
 taken place in Mr. Martindale, but no one 
 thought of attributing the change to any thing 
 else than a little caprice. Isabella took great 
 pains to show how ready she was to accept the 
 practical apology, which she conceived was 
 thus offered by the old gentleman. She talked 
 therefore with more than her usual fluency, and 
 exclaimed with more than usual rapture at 
 every thing which could at all vindicate or allow 
 of rapturous exclamation. The remains of an^ 
 tiquity, the works of modern art, the heathen 
 temple or Christian church, were ia their turns 
 all complimented to the utmost of the young 
 lady's power of eloquence. Unmeaning com- 
 pliments are inexhaustible ; and well it is that 
 they are so, or the great abundance and almost 
 
190 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 infinite variety which was drawn forth from 
 Mr. Martindale's portfolios would have puz- 
 zled and perplexed the flatterer. To all this 
 commendatory language the old gentleman was 
 silent ; and the party, who could not but notice 
 the fluency of Isabella's compliments, began to 
 tremble for her, thinking that the old gentle- 
 man was silently meditating some keen satirical 
 retort ; the usual coin in which such geniuses 
 as he repay the volubility of superabundant 
 compliment. But their fears and apprehensions 
 were unfounded. The young lady continued 
 unexhausted and unreproved. 
 
 To examine a very large collection of prints 
 and drawings, especially when an interest is 
 felt or aff*ected, occupies no inconsiderable por- 
 tion of time. So the morning was rapidly 
 passing away, and might have been entirely 
 consumed by this amusement, had it not been 
 for an interruption which put a stop to their 
 employment. 
 
 A servant announced that the Rev. Mr. 
 Denver and another gentleman wished to 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 191 
 
 speak with Mr. Martindale on particular busi- 
 ness. The old gentleman was not best pleased 
 with the interruption. Impatiently asking the 
 servant into which room he had introduced the 
 gentlemen, he immediately followed the man 
 out of the apartment ; and such was his haste, 
 that he never thought to put out of his hand 
 an engraving which he was just about to show 
 to his party, but carried the print with him. 
 
 Mr. Denver introduced to Mr. Martindale 
 with great parade Colonel Rivolta, whom he 
 described as having recently made his escape 
 from the continent, where he was exposed to 
 persecution, if not to death, on account of his 
 political opinions. The reverend gentleman 
 then proceeded to state, that the Colonel had 
 previously to his own arrival in England sent 
 over his wife and daughter, whom he had 
 committed to the care of Richard Smith ; that 
 with them he had also transmitted some pro- 
 perty, which old Richard had invested for their 
 use and benefit ; that unfortunately the very 
 first night of the Colonel's arrival at Brigland, 
 the cottage in which Richard Smith dwelt had 
 
193 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 been entered by the gipsey, of whom mention 
 has been already made ; that in consequence of 
 that event the poor old man had been so 
 seriously alarmed, that he had been totally 
 unable to attend to any thing, and that he had 
 died, leaving this poor foreigner in a strange 
 land, not knowing how to proceed as to the 
 recovery of his little property. Under these 
 circumstances, Mr. Denver had taken the 
 liberty of introducing the poor man to Mr. 
 Martindale; knowing from the general bene- 
 volence of his disposition, and from his ac- 
 quaintance with practical affairs, that he would 
 be best able to counsel and assist the foreigner 
 in his present difficulties. 
 
 This appeal to the vanity and virtues of the 
 old gentleman compensated for the interruption 
 which had taken him from his company. And, 
 indeed, we must do Mr. Martindale the justice 
 to acknowledge that there really was a consi- 
 derable share of benevolent feeling in the con- 
 stitution of his mind, though that benevolence 
 was attended, as it not unfrequentiy happens, 
 by a very competent share of conceit. He was 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 193 
 
 indeed very happy in performing acts of kind- 
 ness, and also very happy in enjoying the repu- 
 tation of those acts. This is a failing which 
 moralists ought to treat with much gentleness 
 and consideration ; for it does a great deal for 
 those countless and useful institutions which 
 are supported by voluntary contributions. For- 
 getting then the company which he had left, 
 the old gentleman began to enter very freely 
 and fully into the concerns of the foreigner, and 
 to offer his best services to assist him in his dif- 
 ficulties. He soon found, however, upon in- 
 quiry, that there was not really so much diffi- 
 culty as Mr. Denver had imagined or repre- 
 sented ; and he was not altogether displeased 
 at the opportunity thus afforded to him of ridi- 
 culing the clergyman for his ignorance of mat- 
 ters of business. It is indeed a sad fact, that 
 so many of this order are quite ignorant of the 
 affairs of common life in those points where 
 they might often be of essential service to their 
 parishioners. One should imagine that some 
 little knowledge of this kind might be advan- 
 tageously acquired even by the sacrifice, were 
 
 VOL. I. I 
 
194 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 it necessary, of some of that energy and time 
 devoted to dactyls and spondees, or to hares 
 and partridges. But we must take the world as 
 we find it, and be thankful that it is no worse. 
 
 The information and direction which the 
 stranger sought were soon communicated to 
 him, and most thankfully received by him. He 
 then was rising to take leave and repeat his 
 grateful acknowledgments, when his eye was 
 arrested by the print which Mr. Martindale 
 held in his hand, and which he had unrolled 
 while he was talking. As soon as the Colonel 
 saw the picture, he recognised the scene which 
 it represented, and uttered an ejaculation, indi- 
 cative of surprise and pleasure. Mr. Martin- 
 dale then, for the first time, observed the print, 
 and noticed its subject : he also looked upon it 
 with surprise, but not with pleasure ; and then 
 he asked the stranger if that scene were fa- 
 miliar to him. With very great emotion the 
 Colonel replied : 
 
 " That scene brings to my recollection the 
 happiest day of my life." 
 
 For a few seconds the party were totally si- 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 195 
 
 lent ; for the clergyman and the foreigner were 
 struck dumb with astonishment at the altered 
 looks of the old gentleman, and were surprised 
 to see him crushing the picture in both his 
 hands. He then, as if with an effort of great 
 resolution, exclaimed : 
 
 " And it brings to my recollection the most 
 miserable day of my life." 
 
 Mr. Denver was not used to emotions ; he 
 w^as quite perplexed what to do, whether he 
 should sympathise or retire. He very wisely 
 and very calmly begged Mr. Martindale not to 
 be agitated. That was a very rational request ; 
 but, unfortunately, when persons are in a state 
 of agitation, they are not in a condition to attend 
 to rational requests. Colonel Rivolta was more 
 accustomed to the sight and expression of strong 
 emotions, and he did not make any rational re- 
 quest ; but turning towards the old gentleman, 
 with a look of kindness and sympathy, he said : 
 
 •* Ah, sir ! I am sorry, very sorry, that I have 
 caused you to think again of your miseries. 
 But your lot is now in prosperity. Ah, sir ! we 
 are all liable to calamity : it is sad to think of 
 
196 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 the many pains of life ; but your sorrow, sir, is 
 no doubt without reproach to yourself." 
 
 The agitation of the old gentleman abated, 
 and he replied : " I thank you for your kind- 
 ness, sir, but my sorrow arises from self-re- 
 proach. I have inflicted injuries which can 
 never be redressed." 
 
 He hesitated, as if wishing, but dreading to 
 say more. Then changing the tone of his 
 voice, as if he were about to speak on some 
 totally different subject, he continued address- 
 ing himself to Colonel Rivolta : 
 
 *' I presume, sir, you are a native of Genoa, 
 or you are very familiar with that city." 
 
 ** I was born," replied the foreigner, " at 
 Naples ; but very early in life I was removed to 
 Genoa, that I might be engaged in merchandise ; 
 for my patrimony was very small, and my rela- 
 tions would have despised me, had! endeavoured 
 by any occupation to. gain a livelihood in my 
 native city." 
 
 ** Then you were not originally destined for 
 the army." 
 
 " I was not ; but after I had been some few 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 197 
 
 years in Genoa, I began to grow weary of the 
 pursuits of merchandise, and indeed to fee] 
 some of that pride of which I had accused my 
 relations, and I thought that I should be satisfied 
 with very little if I might be free from the oc- 
 cupation of the merchant ; and while I was so 
 thinking, I met by chance an old acquaintance 
 who persuaded me to undertake the profession 
 of arms, to which I was indeed not re- 
 luctant. And so I left my merchandise, and 
 did not see Genoa again for nearly two years. 
 It was then that I was so much interested in 
 that scene which the picture portrays ; for in a 
 very small house which is in the same street, 
 and directly opposite to that palace, there lived 
 an old woman, whose name was . . . ." 
 
 The attention of the old gentleman had been 
 powerfully arrested by the commencement of the 
 Italian's narrative ; and he listened very calmly 
 till the narrator arrived at the point when he 
 was about to mention the name of the old 
 woman who lived opposite to the palace in ques- 
 tion : then was Mr. Martindale again excited, 
 
198 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 and without waiting- for the conclusion of the 
 sentence, interrupted it by exclaiming : 
 
 " Ah ! what ! do you know that old woman ? 
 Is she living? Where is she? — Stop — no — let 
 me see — impossible ! — Why I must be nearly 
 seventy — yes — Are you sure? Is not her name 
 Bianchi?" 
 
 To this hurried and confused mass of interro- 
 gation, the Colonel replied that her name was 
 Bianchi ; but that she had died nearly twenty 
 years ago, at a very advanced age, being at the 
 time of her death nearly ninety years of age. 
 Hearing this, the old gentleman assumed a great 
 calmness and composure of manner, though he 
 trembled as if in an ague ; and turning to the 
 astonished clergyman, who was pleasing himself 
 with the anticipation of some catastrophe or 
 anecdote which might form a fine subject for 
 town-talk, he very deliberately said : 
 
 ** Mr. Denver, I beg I may not intrude any 
 longer on your valuable time. This gentleman, 
 I find, can give me some account of an old ac- 
 quaintance of mine. The inquiries may not be 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 199 
 
 interesting to you. Make my best compliments 
 to Mrs. Denver." 
 
 Mr. Denver was so much in the habit of 
 being dismissed at short notice from his au- 
 diences with Mr. Martindale, that he did not 
 think any thing of this kind of language ; but 
 he was sadly disappointed at being sent away 
 just at the moment that some important dis- 
 .covery seemed about to be made; for it was 
 very obvious from the manner in which Mr. 
 Martindale had interrogated the foreigner, and 
 from the very great emotion which he had ma- 
 nifested, that the old gentleman had something 
 more to inquire about than merely an old ac- 
 quaintance. Mr. Denver, indeed, had little 
 doubt, whatever might be the object of the 
 disclosure about to be made, that he should 
 ultimately come into possession of a know- 
 ledge of the fact ; but it was painful to be put 
 off to a future period, it was a suffering to have 
 his curiosity strongly excited and not imme- 
 diately gratified. In order, however, to insure 
 as early a relief as possible, he had no sooner 
 taken his leave of Mr. Martindale, than he 
 
200 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 dropped a hint to Colonel Rivolta, that he 
 should be happy to see him again at the par- 
 sonage as soon as possible. 
 
 When this good man was withdrawn, Mr. 
 Martindale requested the stranger to be seated ; 
 and unmindful of the guests whom he had 
 left to amuse themselves and each other, he 
 commenced very deliberately to examine the 
 foreigner concerning those matters which had 
 so strongly excited his feelings. 
 
 '' You tell me," said Mr. Martindale, ''that 
 the old woman Bianchi has been dead nearly 
 twenty years. Now, my good friend, can you 
 inform me how long you were acquainted with 
 this old woman before her death." 
 
 ** I knew her," replied the Colonel, ** only 
 for about four years before she died." 
 
 *' And had you much intimacy with her, so 
 as to hear her talk about former days." 
 
 " Very often, indeed," replied the foreigner, 
 " did she talk about the past ; for as her age 
 was very great, and her memory was very good, 
 it was great interest to hear her tell of ancient 
 things ; and she was a woman of most excellent 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 201 
 
 understanding, and very benevolent in her dis- 
 position. Indeed, I can say that I loved the 
 old woman much, very much indeed. I was 
 sorry at her death." 
 
 " But tell me," said Mr. Martindale im- 
 patiently, '* did 5^ou ever hear her say any thing 
 of an infant — an orphan that was committed to 
 her care nearly forty years ago ?" 
 
 At this question, the eyes of the stranger 
 brightened, and his face was overspread v/ith a 
 smile of delight, when he replied : " Oh yes, 
 much indeed, much indeed ! that orphan is my 
 wife." 
 
 This rapidity of explanation was almost too 
 much for the old gentleman's feelings. His 
 limbs had been trembling with the agitation 
 arising from thus reverting to days and events 
 long passed ; and he had entertained some hope 
 from the language of the foreigner, that he 
 might gain some intelligence concerning one 
 that had been forgotten, but whose image was 
 again revived in his memory. He had thought 
 but lightly in the days of his youth of that 
 which he then called folly, but more seriously 
 
202 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 in the days of his age of that same conduct 
 which then he called vice. It would have been 
 happiness to his soul, could an opportunity have 
 been afforded him of making something like 
 amends to the representatives of the injured, 
 even though the injured had been long asleep 
 in the grave. When all at once, therefore, the 
 intelligence burst upon him, that one was living 
 in whom he possessed an interest, and over 
 whose destiny he should have watched, but 
 whom he had neglected and forgotten, he felt 
 his soul melt within him ; and well it was for 
 him that he found relief in tears. Surprised 
 beyond measure was Colonel Rivolta, when 
 be observed the effect produced on Mr. Mar- 
 tindale, and heard the old gentleman say with 
 trembling voice: 
 
 ** And that orphan, sir, is my daughter." He 
 paused for a minute or two, and his companion 
 was too much astonished and interested to in- 
 terrupt him : recovering himself, he continued : 
 *' For many years after that child was born, I 
 had not the means of making any other pro- 
 vision for it than placing it under the care of 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 203 
 
 the old woman of whom we have been speaking. 
 I gave her such compensation as my circum- 
 stances then allowed ; and as the mother of the 
 child died soon after the birth of the infant, I 
 thought myself freed from all farther responsi* 
 bility when I had made provision for the infanto 
 I endeavoured, indeed, to forget the event alto- 
 gether ; and as I wished to form a respectable 
 connexion in marriage, I took especial care to 
 conceal this transgression. However, various 
 circumstances prevented me from time to time 
 from entering into the married state ; and having 
 within the last twelve years come into the pos- 
 session of larger property than I had ever an- 
 ticipated, it occurred to me that there should 
 be living at Genoa a child of mine, then in- 
 deed long past childhood. I wrote to Genoa, 
 and had no answer ; T went to Genoa, and could 
 find no trace either of my child or of the old 
 woman to whose care I had entrusted her ; and 
 I was grieved not so much for the loss of my 
 child, as for the lack of an opportunity of 
 making some amends for my crime. I am de- 
 
204 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 lighted to hear that she lives. To-morrow I 
 will see her." 
 
 Colouel Rivolta scarcely believed his senses. 
 He was indeed very sure that the person whom 
 he had married was described as an orphan of 
 English parents, and he had no reason to ima- 
 gine that Mr. Martindale was attempting to 
 deceive him. It was, indeed, a great discovery 
 to him that he had married the daughter of 
 an English gentleman of great fortune; and 
 perhaps under all circumstances the foreigner 
 was most delighted of the two at the disco- 
 very : for thereby he had insured to himself a 
 friend and protector when he most needed one; 
 and he was happy at the thought that his own 
 child would thus have a powerful friend, and be 
 preserved from the dangers and snares with which 
 he might think that she would be otherwise sur- 
 rounded; and with whatever sentiments Mr. 
 Martindale might regard the discovery of his 
 daughter, it may be easily imagined that Colonel 
 Rivolta's child, over whom he had constantly 
 watched with the utmost care and anxiety, was 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 205 
 
 far more affectionately interesting to him than 
 was the daughter of Mr. Martindale to her 
 parent, who had never seen her since her infancy, 
 and who had never paid her any attention, but 
 had almost endeavoured to forget her. It ap- 
 peared indeed very singular to the Colonel, that 
 Mr. Martindale should so patiently wait till the 
 following day before he would see his newly- 
 discovered daughter. But the old gentleman 
 was a great oddity, and a most unaccountable 
 being; and so any one would have thought who 
 had seen him after this interview with the 
 foreigner calmly return to his company, and 
 amuse himself with looking over his portfolios 
 of pictures. So however he did ; and when this 
 agitation was over, he was more cheerful than 
 before, and quite as full as ever of whims and 
 humours. 
 
206 BANK AND TALENT. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII, 
 
 •' reason, my son, 
 
 Should choose himself a wife ; but as good reason, - 
 The father (all whose joy is nothing else 
 But fair posterity) should hold some counsel 
 In such business." 
 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 The interview between Mr. Martindale and 
 his newly-discovered daughter took place ac* 
 cording to his own arrangement on the following 
 day. Inquiries were abutidantly made, and 
 explanations entered into, by which the identity 
 of the parties was ascertained. There was, 
 however, little or nothing of that outrageous 
 and passionate exhibition which is so frequently 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 207 
 
 represented as attendirg such discoveries. Mr 
 Martindale himself had given way to strong 
 emotions on the preceding day, the ground of 
 which emotions was rather remorse than affec- 
 tion: not that he was incapable of affection, or 
 insensible to its claims ; but age makes a differ- 
 ence in the mode of expressing affection ; and 
 the old gentleman had never been in the way of 
 that habitual intercourse which gives to senti- 
 ments of love their strength and feeling. Mo- 
 thers who have watched over the dawnings of 
 an infant mind, and assisted in the development 
 of the growing powers and expanding affections 
 of their offspring, can and do remember through 
 a long long life, and after a very long sepa- 
 ration and absence, the endearing and delightful 
 thoughts and feelings which occupied their souls 
 when attending their infant charge, and they 
 cannot see without strong emotion those fea- 
 tures ripened into maturity in which they had 
 taken delight in infancy ; and even fathers who 
 have watched a mother's care, and participated 
 in a mother's interests, do, after many years, 
 ay, even through life, retain the sentiments of 
 
208 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 love and deep affection which an infant interest 
 has excited ; but that pure pleasure belongs not 
 to him who has never taken a pure paternal in- 
 terest in his own offspring. Let this or any 
 other theory which the reader's better judgment 
 may suggest, account for the fact that the meet- 
 ing between Mr. Martindale and his daughter 
 was not productive of any thing like a scene. 
 This, however, is true, that the old gentleman 
 was very much pleased, both with his daughter 
 and grand-daughter. With the latter, our read- 
 ers are already acquainted. 
 
 As we have introduced Signora Rivolta to her 
 father, it may not be amiss to introduce her also 
 to our readers. 
 
 Comparatively little interest can be felt in the 
 personal description of a lady who has passed 
 the season of youth ; but there are some women 
 who have ceased to be young, without ceasing 
 to be personally interesting". Of this number 
 was Signora Rivolta. Her style and manner 
 was such as to inspire respect. There was 
 about her a certain graceful and becoming 
 stateliness which only one of her cast of fea- 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 209 
 
 tures and mould of figure could with propriety 
 assume. Her hair and eyes were dark; her 
 face oval ; her eyebrows finely arched ; her look 
 rather downcast. To speak classically, or hea- 
 thenishly, there was in her more of Minerva 
 than of Venus ; and more of Juno than of 
 either. Her voice was exquisitely sweet; its 
 tones were full, and its modulation graceful. 
 Hers was the voice which Horatio Mark ham 
 heard when he stood with old Mr. Martindale 
 near the door of old Richard Smith's cottage ; 
 and it was her hand which touched the lute 
 that accompanied her voice ; and hers was the 
 ivory crucifix which the young barrister care- 
 lessly threw down, and which the young woman 
 so hastily picked up. 
 
 At the discovery of his daughter, and her 
 interesting appearance, Mr. Martindale was 
 much pleased ; and though no dramatic raptures 
 marked their first interview, the old gentleman 
 was relieved from a painful mental burden 
 which weighed heavily on his spirits, and which, 
 while it sometimes rendered him morose, some- 
 
210 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 times goaded him also to the opposite extreme 
 of false levity and an artificial humour. It 
 was this circumstance, to which might be 
 attributed those eccentricities of manner, which 
 led some observers to imagine that the old 
 gentleman was not sound in his intellects. Still, 
 however, the essential oddity of his character 
 was not to be removed by any changes ; and a 
 very curious manifestation of that oddity he 
 gave at this interview with his daughter and 
 grand-daughter, when he abruptly asked the 
 former if she had been brought up in the 
 religion of the Roman Catholic church ; to 
 this question, she replied in the affirmative. 
 Thereupon the old gentleman was disturbed, 
 and he said ; 
 
 "And is your daughter also educated in the 
 same persuasion V 
 
 " She is," replied Signora Rivolta; "for in 
 what other religion could or ought she to be 
 educated ? From the professors of that religion 
 I received my first impulses to devotion, and 
 from their kindness I experienced protection, 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 211 
 
 and from their good counsel I had guidance. 
 I love that religion." 
 
 " Well, well," observed Mr. Martindale, 
 *' that is all very natural, to be sure — I can say 
 nothing against that ; but it is a pity that, now 
 you are likely to remain in England, you should 
 not become a Protestant. I have no objection 
 to your religion, only there is so much bigotry 
 about it." 
 
 " We think it important truth, and we can- 
 not be indifferent to it ; and we are desirous of 
 bringing all to the knowledge of the truth, that 
 all may be saved." 
 
 "Ay, ay, that is my objection to your reli- 
 gion ; you think that nobody can be saved but 
 those who adopt your opinions — now I call that 
 bigotry." 
 
 •* Then, sir, I fear that your church lies under 
 the same reproach, for many of its formularies 
 seem to indicate the same view of salvation." 
 
 "Yes, yes, there may be some such language 
 in the prayer-book and articles, but they were 
 drawn up in times when men were not so 
 enlightened as they are now ; and it does not 
 
212 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 follow that all Protestants should exactly 
 follow every minute shade of opinion or doctrine 
 there laid down." 
 
 Some men have been so ungallant as to say 
 that they would never condescend to reason 
 with a woman: if Mr. Martindale had made 
 the same determination, it would have saved 
 him some trouble ; for in this conversation, 
 which was extended to a much greater length 
 than we are desirous of pursuing it, Mr. Mar- 
 tindale had much the worst of the argument, 
 though not the worst side of the question. His 
 misfortune was, that he was totally ignorant of 
 the nature of the Roman Catholic religion, and 
 very little better informed concerning that 
 faith which he himself professed. Tt is a 
 practice too common to be greatly reprobated, 
 for persons to argue with great earnestness and 
 fluency on those subjects of which they are 
 almost totally ignorant. But, on the other 
 hand, if persons would never begin or per- 
 tinaciously continue an argument till they had 
 made themselves fully acquainted with the 
 subject, then there would be a great lack of 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 213 
 
 discussion, and the publication of controversial 
 treatises would greatly fall off ; and there would 
 perhaps be a mighty deficiency in the article 
 of zeal. But it is needless to anticipate ills 
 which may never befall us; and we may venture 
 to bid defiance to the genius of pantology, 
 however loudly it may threaten to illuminate 
 every mind. 
 
 Having stated that Mr. Martindale had the 
 happiness of discovering his daughter, it will be 
 superfluous to say that he forthwith made pre- 
 paration for her establishment in the possession 
 of such means as might place her in a style of 
 life more suitable to her condition than a little 
 lone cottage. But there was a change very 
 naturally, though very quietly, taking place in 
 the old gentleman's mind and in his feelings to- 
 wards the Hon. Philip Martindale. He could 
 not now think of making this gentleman his 
 heir. In Signora Rivolta there was evidently 
 a prior claim. As yet, however, the young 
 gentleman at the Abbey was ignorant of the new 
 discovery ; and what is more, he was not even 
 aware of the existence of any such person as 
 
214 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 Signora Rivolta ; nor did he suspect that any 
 such discovery was within the compass of pro- 
 bability. 
 
 By what the Rev. Mr. Denver had heard, 
 and by what the wife of that said gentleman 
 had told to Mrs. Price and Mrs. Flint, and by 
 what Mrs. Denver and Mrs, Price and Mrs. 
 Flint had told to every body within the reach of 
 their knowledge, the whole town of Brigland 
 was full of confused rumours and reports of some 
 great calamity having befallen Mr. John Mar- 
 tindale. Some said that he had lost all his pro- 
 perty ; some said that he had only lost half; some 
 had it that old Richard Smith, who had lately 
 died, had been discovered to be Mr. Martin- 
 dale's elder brother, and that all his immense 
 property must descend to the young woman 
 his niece. The reports at last found their way 
 to the housekeeper's room at the Abbey ; and the 
 trusty Oliver trembled when he was very credi- 
 bly and circumstantially informed that, inconse- 
 quence of the death of old Richard Smith, some 
 papers or parchments, or some something, had 
 been discovered, by which it appeared that old 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 215 
 
 Mr. Martindale had no right to the large pro- 
 perty which he had so long possessed. It is the 
 peculiar privilege of rogues always to fear the 
 worst in doubtful matters. This privilege Oli- 
 ver now abundantly enjoyed. Not wishing to 
 keep all his news to himself, he took the first 
 opportunity of speaking to his master ; and in 
 order to break the matter gently to him, and 
 not all at once to overwhelm him with the fatal 
 intelligence, he began by asking : 
 
 ** Have you heard any bad news lately, 
 
 sir r 
 
 " Bad news," hastily asked Mr. Philip, 
 '* no; what do you mean ? — what kind of bad 
 news ? Do you allude to the report that the old 
 gentleman is going to be married to Lady 
 Woodstock ?" 
 
 " Oh dear no, sir; it is a great deal worse 
 than that: but I hope it is not true ; yet I am 
 sure I had it from very good authority, and it 
 is not likely such a thing should be invented." 
 
 *' Well, well, don't stand prating and prosing, 
 but tell me at once what it is." 
 
 The trusty Oliver shook his head and sighed. 
 
216 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 ''It is nothing more nor less, sir, than that 
 some deeds have been discovered at old 
 Richard Smith's cottage since the poor man's 
 death, by which it appears that Mr. Martin- 
 dale has no right to the property he now 
 possesses." 
 
 " Nonsense," replied the Hon. Philip Mar- 
 tindale, '* who told you that fool's tale? Do you 
 think that I should not have heard of it, if such 
 had been the fact ?" 
 
 <f Why, sir, I heard it from a gentleman who 
 had it from Mrs. Denver; and Mr. Denver him- 
 self was present when the discovery was made. 
 It was only yesterday that the matter came out; 
 and Mr. Denver went down to the cottage to 
 Mr. Martindale to tell him all about it. The 
 gentleman who claims the property went with 
 him ; and Mr. Martindale has been at Richard 
 Smith's this morning. The real owner of the 
 property comes from Italy." 
 
 At this part of the information communicated 
 by Oliver, the young gentleman began to be in 
 doubt whether there might not be something 
 serious in the report ; for he recollected some 
 
RANK AND TALENT. !iJ17 
 
 talk of old Martindale's visit to Genoa, and of 
 his anxiety to discover if some one was living- 
 there or not. He also called to mind much that 
 had been said to him by Lady Martindale, dis- 
 suading him from taking up his abode at the 
 Abbey, and placing himself in a state of depend- 
 ence. He remembered distinctly and vividly 
 the tone and expression with which his anxious 
 mother had said to him, *' Now, my dear Philip, 
 before you decide on this step, think seriously 
 how you shall be able to bear a reverse, if by any 
 change the wealth of your cousin Martindale 
 should take a different direction, either by his 
 own caprice, or by changes over which he has no 
 controul." He recollected that this caution was 
 uttered more than once or twice. He considered 
 it therefore as in some measure prophetic. He 
 also recollected that the old gentleman had been 
 very silent and absent at dinner the day before ; 
 and from what Miss Isabella Featherstone had 
 said, it seemed very manifest that some serious 
 interruption had occurred when the party were 
 looking over the pictures at the cottage. There 
 was also to be added to this, his own knowledge 
 
 VOL. I. K 
 
21S RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 of the fact that Mr. Martindale had that very 
 morning paid a very long visit to the cottage of 
 the late Richard Smith. All these circum- 
 stances put together did, to say the least of it, 
 greatly perplex and puzzle the mind of the 
 young gentleman. He dismissed the trusty 
 Oliver from his presence; and when alone, he 
 began to meditate, plan, arrange, and conjecture, 
 till he found himself in a complete wilderness 
 of perplexities, and a labyrinth of contending 
 thoughts. 
 
 His meditations,, however, availed him not. 
 There was not the least glimmering of light in 
 any direction ; and the longer he thought, the 
 more he was perplexed. The only bearable con- 
 clusion at which he could arrive was one of very 
 equivocal consolation ; namely, it was possible 
 that things might not be quite so bad as they 
 had been represented. 
 
 Not long had he been alone, before his so- 
 litude was invaded by Lord Martindale. 
 *' Philip," said his lordship, " you look grave 
 this morning. Has any thing occurred to dis- 
 turb you ?" 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 219 
 
 Philip made an abortive attempt to put on a 
 look of cheerfulness, as he replied to his ques- 
 tion : " You would not wish, sir, that I should 
 never look grave. Perhaps, sir, I may have 
 lost my heart." 
 
 His lordship looked grave in his turn, and 
 very solemnly said : ' ' Ah ! you are not serious ! 
 To whom, I beg to know, have you lost your 
 heart? This is an affair on which I should 
 have been consulted." 
 
 *' I do not say positively that I have lost my 
 heart," replied Philip, " I was speaking hypo- 
 thetically." 
 
 '' Hypothetically ?" echoed his lordship ; 
 '* well then let me know who It is, or may be, 
 that has had such power over your mind, or 
 that may be supposed capable of making so 
 great a conquest." 
 
 ** Suppose it should be Isabella Feather- 
 stone," replied Philip ; but in such a manner 
 as abundantly proved that the supposition was 
 perfectly gratuitous. 
 
 His lordship shook his head ; and then, with 
 very great earnestness of manner, said to his 
 
220 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 SOD : " Philip, let me speak to you seriously 
 and as a friend. I would not have you rely 
 too confidently on the expectation of inhe- 
 riting your cousin's estate. 1 have my reasons 
 for what I say, and it is for your welfare that 
 I speak. The Featherstones are a very respect- 
 able and an old family, but you must look for 
 something more than mere family ; you cannot 
 keep up the dignity of your rank without an 
 accession, and a very considerable accession of 
 fortune, which you cannot have from the Fea- 
 therstones. I wish I could persuade you to 
 apply yourself to public business ; I am sure 
 you might make a good figure in the house, 
 and provide for yourself far better and more 
 honorably than by living in a state of depend- 
 ence." 
 
 Philip, for the first time in his life, heard 
 patiently this exhortation ; and greatly to the 
 surprise and satisfaction of his lordship, went 
 so far as to say, that he v/ould take the matter 
 into serious consideration. So pleased was 
 Lord Martindale even with this faint promise, 
 that he hasted immediately to communicate the 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 221 
 
 same to Lady Martindale. The first dinner- 
 bell was ringing as Lord Martindale left his 
 son's apartment ; and at nearly the same 
 instant, Mr. John Martindale entered it. 
 
 There appeared to be a cloud on the old 
 man's brow ; and there was a manifest coolness 
 in his manner as he entered the apartment^ 
 and said to the young gentleman : 
 
 " Now, young man, I am going to pay you 
 greater attention than you paid to me the other 
 day. I am going to London ; and I come to 
 let you know. I have made some discoveries, 
 of which you shall know more hereafter. At 
 present, all I can say is, I am going to London; 
 and I must request that you will make some 
 apology to our guests for my sudden depar- 
 ture." 
 
 ''You are not going to-day, sir; it is near 
 dinner-time," replied Mr. Philip. 
 
 ** I can't help that," replied the old gentle- 
 man ; " then you must dine without me ; and 
 if any excuse is needed for my absence, you 
 must invent one ; or if you are at a loss for a 
 
222 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 lie, peradventure Oliver can help you to one. 
 I have no time for any more prate, so fare- 
 well." 
 
 Thus speaking, the queer old gentleman left 
 the room ; and poor Mr. Philip found himself 
 in a very sad and sorrowful perplexity at his 
 departure ; especially, coupled as it was with 
 such reports abroad, and such language from 
 the old gentleman himself. The last sentence 
 of all, in which allusion was made to Oliver's 
 inventive faculty, most closely touched the 
 honorable tenant of Brigland Abbey ; though 
 the fact is, that Mr. John Martindale did not 
 thereby design any particular or express allu- 
 sion to any one individual part of Oliver's 
 conduct, yet in this light the young gentleman 
 regarded it ; and it therefore grieved him, 
 and gave him an additional impulse towards 
 thoughts and efforts of independence. But 
 there were obstacles and impediments in the way 
 which he could not mention to Lord Martin- 
 dale ; and if they had been known, his lordship 
 would not have found it an easy task to remove 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 22S 
 
 them. The considerations dwelt heavily on the 
 mind of the young gentleman, and made him 
 regret that he had been so long acting the part 
 of a simpleton. 
 
224 RANK AND TALRNF* 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 *' Yea, this man's brow, like to a title-leaf, 
 Foretels the nature of a tragic volume." 
 
 Shakspeare, 
 
 It is not to be supposed tbat Oliver should 
 keep the secret which he had heard without the 
 assistance of some of his fellow-servants ; and if 
 the servants of the house had kept the secret 
 from the servants of the visitors, they would 
 have been guilty of a gross breach of hospi- 
 tality; and when a gentleman is in a stable^ 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 225 
 
 or a lady in a dressing-room, the distance be- 
 tween them and their respective servants is not 
 so great but that the parties are within hearing 
 of each other. 
 
 When, therefore, the party assembled at din- 
 ner, Mr. Philip found himself under no neces- 
 sity of tasking either his own or Oliver's inven- 
 tive powers to account for the absence of Mr* 
 John Martindale. Not one made any inquiry. 
 This universal silence was very ominous to 
 Philip ; he very naturally supposed that the 
 secret, whatever it was, had been divulged. 
 He laboured hard to seem at ease ; but that 
 was no easy task. The party at table felt them- 
 selves also under some kind of restraint, so that 
 their talk was very abrupt and unconnected. 
 Could any one think it possible ? but it really 
 is a fact, that the guests were almost dying 
 for an opportunity of talking one to another 
 concerning the strange news which they had 
 heard ; and they were prepared with some nota- 
 ble aphorism on pride and extravagance ready 
 to be shot forth as soon as the person should by 
 his absence give them leave to speak. 
 
226 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 As for the Hon. Philip Martindale himself, a 
 variety of thoughts, hopes, fears, and conjec- 
 tures, were passing through his mind ; but none 
 of them remained long enough there to be 
 soberly and seriously considered, or to produce 
 any composure or settled plan. There was, in- 
 deed, one thought which was most frequently 
 springing up amidst the general agitation, and 
 that was the thought of Miss Sampson ; and so 
 little comnland had he over the movements of 
 his own mind, that he found himself paying a 
 more than ordinary degree of attention to tnat 
 young lady. Lord and Lady Martindale could 
 not fail to notice this ; and to the former it was 
 not quite so unpleasant as might have been 
 supposed, from the well-known high and lofty 
 notions which his lordship entertained on the 
 subject of the dignity of high rank. For though 
 Lord Martindale venerated nobility and high 
 birth, he knew that there also needed some 
 other appurtenances to render greatness really 
 and permanently imposing. He also knew that 
 the estate which was destined to keep up the 
 honour of the title was scarcely competent to 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 227 
 
 that great task. He also knew that there was 
 not quite so much destined for his successor as 
 his successor imagined ; and he was well aware 
 of the sad necessity which had frequently com- 
 pelled persons of higher rank than himself to 
 condescend to ennoble plebeian blood "for a 
 consideration." As to the present posture of af- 
 fairs, his lordship was not much surprised at 
 the rumors which he had heard ; he knew that 
 the property in question had descended rather 
 unexpectedly on its present possessor, and he 
 was also prepared for any disappointment which 
 his own son might experience from the caprice 
 of his relative. His fears, indeed, of disap- 
 pointment to his son arose from an expectation 
 that Mr. John Martindale might marry, and 
 thus find a new set of connexions that would 
 have a powerful influence on his decisions and 
 arrangements concerning his property. Having 
 then heard that another claimant had started 
 for that property, and observing that the old 
 gentleman had been more than usually attentive 
 to Lady Woodstock, he thought it was time 
 that his son should make some provision for him- 
 
22Sf RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 self. With as good a grace as might be, he 
 therefore resigned himself to the thought that 
 Miss Sampson might be allowed the honor of 
 becoming the Hon. Mrs. P. Martindale. 
 
 We are not, indeed, prepared to say that ali 
 this was effected in his lordship's mind without 
 a considerable effort and a powerful conflict. 
 Necessity, it is said, has no law. It would be 
 more correct to say, that necessity is the most 
 arbitrary and powerful lawgiver. Lord Mar- 
 tindale was very much to be pitied, and so. was 
 Mr. Philip. But calamities of this kind will 
 sometimes overtake nobility : by a variety of 
 circumstances, which need not be enumerated, 
 there will be often occurring a painful necessity 
 of repairing dilapidated fortunes ty intermar- 
 riages with plebeians. It does not occur to us 
 at present how this dreadful calamity can be 
 avoided. There are certandy public stations 
 with high salaries and easy duties ; these help a 
 little, but comparatively very little ; and there 
 are some of those offices which really require 
 men of understanding and application to fill 
 them ; and we fear that such is the seditious 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 229 
 
 and discontented spirit of the times, that the 
 people would grumble at any very great multi- 
 plication of places of no use but to those who 
 fill them. Yet, upon second thoughts, there 
 are certain laws, such for instance as the game- 
 laws, which are made expressly and obviously 
 for the amusement of the higher classes ; might 
 not some legislative arrangement be contrived^ 
 which should, on the same exclusive principle, 
 prevent the nobility from intermarrying with 
 plebeians in order to repair the broken fortunes l 
 Seeing that the nobility, and its peculiar privi- 
 leges, and its high and mighty purity, is one of 
 the great blessings of our constitution, form- 
 ing a grand reservoir of political wisdom, surely 
 the people would not be very reluctant to con- 
 tribute liberally towards an arrangement which 
 should be the means of preventing the said no- 
 bility from receiving contamination from inter- 
 marriages with plebeians. We only suggest 
 that some contrivance might be made ; but what 
 contrivance we must leave to the sagacity of 
 wiser heads than our own, and to those who are 
 more interested in it than we are. 
 
230 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 It is eDough for our present purpose that 
 this arrangement is not yet made ; and that in 
 consequence of the want of a suitable supply, 
 poor Philip Martindale was placed under the 
 disagreeable necessity of paying great attention 
 to Miss Sampson ; and poor Lord Martindale 
 was also under the same necessity of submitting 
 to see and approve it. 
 
 We have already spoken of Miss Sampson, 
 and have said or intimated that she was not a 
 fool. We have also spoken of Sir Gilbert 
 Sampson, and we have acknowledged that he 
 was a man of good understanding. Miss 
 Sampson had been an indulged child ; some 
 called her a spoiled child, but we do not admit 
 that indulgence alv/ays spoils children. There 
 is a great deal depending on the manner in 
 which indulgence is administered. Indulgence 
 or strictness in the hands of a simpleton may be 
 made equally injurious. Miss Sampson cer- 
 tainly had not been snubbed, liectured, scolded 
 at, talked to, and dragged about all her life in 
 leading-strings ; and Miss Sampson was cer- 
 tainly a thoughtless, good-tempered creature, 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 231 
 
 not overburdened with taste, and not always so 
 very attentive to minuter observances as many 
 others of her own station ; but whether she 
 would have been any more thoughtful and 
 reserved by a continued course of sloppy, 
 sleepy, prosy, common-place lecturing, is very 
 doubtful. Miss Sampson and her father were 
 by no means proud, resentful, or suspicious. 
 For though they both had heard the rumor 
 touching the probable evanescence of Mr. John 
 Martindale's property ; and though they both 
 might have had reason to suppose that only 
 property could induce Mr. Philip to make 
 advances of a serious nature, and though he 
 had once before paid, and afterwards discon- 
 tinued his attentions, yet Sir Gilbert Sampson, 
 who was a sensible man, and Miss Sampson, 
 who was not a fool, were pleased with the very 
 particular notice taken of the latter under pre- 
 sent circumstances. The parties were there- 
 fore quits ; for if it was manifest to Miss 
 Sampson that Philip Martindale's affection for 
 her was only founded on her property, it was 
 as manifest to Philip Martindale that Miss 
 
232 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 Sampson's regard for bim could only be on 
 account of his title. 
 
 When the following day dawned upon the 
 Abbey of Brigland, and the guests there visit- 
 ing had an opportunity, unconstrained by the 
 presence of the tenant of the great, house, to 
 discuss and discourse upon the interesting topic 
 of the discovery of the preceding day, various 
 and wise were the observations which they 
 made; but one of the wisest of all was, that it 
 would be desirable for them to hasten their 
 departure ; for it occurred to them that Mr. 
 Philip might prefer being alone, now he had so 
 much to occupy his thoughts. Sir Andrew 
 Featherstone and his family recollected that it 
 was absolutely necessary that they should be at 
 home in a day or two, for they were expecting 
 company. The Misses Woodstock also thought 
 that it was very rude of Mr. John Martindale 
 to take his departure so suddenly, and leave 
 them without an apology ; and Lady Wood- 
 stock thought that, though visiting at the 
 Abbey, her visit was rather to Mr. John Mar- 
 tindale than to Mr. Philip ; and even Sir 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 233 
 
 Gilbert and Miss Sampson thought that they 
 
 should be better able to ascertuin Mr. Philip's 
 
 intentions by taking their departure than by 
 
 prolonging their visit ; and as the time was 
 
 nearly arrived that they should have taken 
 
 their leave in the ordinary course of things, the 
 
 making a movement a day or two sooner might 
 
 not be a matter of such great moment. In 
 
 fact, there was among the whole party an 
 
 unpleasant and awkward kind of restraint, 
 
 which they could only get rid of by separation ; 
 
 and they certainly had a right to be offended at 
 
 Mr. John Martindale for his rudeness in leaving 
 
 so abruptly, and not giving any explanation, or 
 
 even saying when he should return. Lady 
 
 Featherstone was the first of the party v/ho 
 
 started the subject of departure ; and when it 
 
 was mentioned, or rather hinted, to Mr. Philip, 
 
 he did not receive the intelligence with any 
 
 affectation of concern ; and thus the matter 
 
 was easily managed by the rest of the party, 
 
 who soon took leave, excepting, of course. Lord 
 
 and Lady Martindale. The worthy persons 
 
 who took their departure rather hastily, made 
 
234 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 up their minds to forgive old Mr. Martindale 
 for his rudeness, provided that it should turn 
 out that he had not lost any very considerable 
 part of his fortune. 
 
 Being now left to his own meditations, and 
 the good counsel of his father and mother, the 
 Hon. Philip Martindale began to employ him- 
 self in deliberating on what steps it would be 
 prudent for him to take in the present con- 
 juncture of affairs. As yet, he knew nothing 
 for certainty. It was still possible that the 
 story circulating in Brigland, and brought to 
 his ears by the trusty and honest Oliver, might 
 not be altogether correct, and he might yet be 
 able to keep himself pure from the degradation 
 of marrying below his rank, provided he took 
 care not to give offence to the old gentleman ; 
 and yet when he thought of the very cool and 
 abrupt manner in which his cousin had an- 
 nounced his design of, going hastily to London, 
 and of his allusion to the capacity of Oliver for 
 invention, he feared that some of his own pro- 
 ceedings were not unknown to his relative, and 
 that they had effected an alienation of his 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 235 
 
 regards. He knew well enough the eagerness 
 with which all idle reports are received and 
 circulated, without any regard to their truth 
 or even probability, and therefore he considered 
 that it would be a fruitless toil to interrogate 
 Mr. Denver, or any of the people in the town 
 upon the subject ; and indeed, he did not think 
 such proceeding very consistent with his dig- 
 nity. 
 
 It occurred to his mind, however, that it 
 might not be very unsuitable just to look in 
 at the cottage where old Richard Smith used 
 to live ; for Mr. John Martindale had rebuked 
 his relative for neglect in this matter. He 
 took, therefore, an early opportunity of walking 
 round by the heath, to avoid passing through 
 the town ; and he called at the cottage. The 
 door was fastened, and he was under the ne- 
 cessity of making a long loud knocking before 
 he could obtain admittance ; at length, the door 
 was opened from within by a little old woman 
 who was as deaf as a post, or who affected to 
 be so. Very little information indeed could he 
 extract from her. He learned, however, that 
 
236 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 his cousin bad not gone alone, but that tbere 
 were three persons with him from the cottage ^ 
 and that of these three, one was the young 
 woman who was called the niece of Richard 
 Smith, and the other two were the father and 
 mother of the young woman. He also ascer- 
 tained that the cottage was no longer to.be 
 occupied by these persons, and that it was not 
 expected that any one of them should return to 
 Brigland. Whether in this party was the 
 claimant to the old gentleman's property was 
 not to be ascertained ; and indeed that question 
 was not directly asked, and the old woman did 
 not seem at all inclined to answer any questions 
 which were not loudly, decidedly, and frequently 
 repeated. Philip amused himself with looking 
 at the drawings which decorated the cottage- 
 walls, and he was surprised to see such decora- 
 tions in such a place ; but he soon found an 
 interpretation of that difficulty when he ob- 
 served the scenes which they represented, and 
 when he recollected the Italian officer whom 
 he had met in London. Now, though he had, 
 as we have observed above, some faint recollec- 
 
RANK AxND TALENT. 237 
 
 tion of having heard something of old Mr. 
 Martindale's voyage to Genoa in search of 
 some individual or other, who, for aught he 
 knew to the contrary, might be a claimant, 
 but he could not see how property in England 
 should be claimed by a native Italian, as Colonel 
 Rivolta clearly was. Very little information, 
 therefore, did he acquire, and no satisfaction 
 could he gain by this visit to the cottage. 
 
 In spite, however, of all his feeling of dignity 
 and propriety, he felt an irresistible propensity 
 to call on Mr. Denver, who, as a public intelli- 
 gencer, was certainly one of the most able men 
 in the town of Brigland. The very polite and 
 exquisitely courteous manner in which the re- 
 verend perpetual curate received the tenant of 
 the Abbey, was not at all indicative of falling 
 fortunes or painful change of circumstance. 
 Low as usual did he bow, graciously as ever 
 did he smile. Courtesy and politeness, how- 
 ever, were essential and component parts of 
 Mr. Denver's constitution. We cannot say 
 quite so much of the Hon. Philip Martindale ; 
 for his style of address was abrupt, and his man- 
 
238 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 ners very unceremonious ; and so far was he from 
 endeavouring to correct this habit, that he was 
 in a measure absolutely proud of it. Receiving 
 Mr. Denver's homage as due to his own exalted 
 rank and dignified character, he began his in- 
 quiries by lamenting the death of poor Richard 
 Smith, and expressing a hope that the poor 
 man had had proper medical assistance in his 
 illness. To all this a satisfactory answer was 
 given, accompanied, as was very suitable and 
 regular, with a compliment to Mr. Philip's 
 very great kindness and condescension. The 
 inquirer then proceeded to throw out an inti- 
 mation, that it would be very agreeable to him 
 to be informed as to who and what the stranger 
 was, who had recently taken up his abode at 
 the old man's cottage. As far as Mr. Denver 
 knew, he informed Mr. Philip ; telling him also 
 the particulars of the interview at Mr. John 
 Martindale's residence, as we have already nar- 
 rated it. For we will do Mr. Denver the jus- 
 tice to say of him, that although he was now 
 and then unconsciously guilty of circulating an 
 incorrect narrative, he was never deliberately and 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 239 
 
 wilfully guilty of fabricating- one. Whatever 
 he himself had seen and heard, he told, accord- 
 ing to the best of his ability, as he saw and heard 
 it. But if, as it sometimes happened, he heard 
 Mrs. Denver, Mrs. Price, and Mrs. Flint, all 
 talking together, and telling in one voice him 
 and one another the same story, but with diver- 
 sified embellishment and frequent mutual con- 
 tradiction, many interruptions, and various re- 
 petitions and emendations ; then, poor man, he 
 was certainly to be forgiven, if his second-hand 
 repetition of such story should not be altogether 
 coherent in its parts, lucid in its arrangement, 
 or exquisitely veracious in every particular. 
 Nor should we severely condemn him, if, with 
 a laudable eagerness to administer early intelli- 
 gence, he should now and then run away with 
 an ill-understood tale only heard by halves. 
 Thus it often happens, that those newspapers 
 which are proud of their early intelligence, are 
 occasionally exposed to the temptation of insert- 
 ing that which needs contradiction. 
 
 When Philip Martindale had thus fairly 
 committed himself as an inquirer, he went 
 
240 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 into the subject very fully ; and from all that 
 he could learn from Mr. Denver, there did not 
 appear to be any very powerful evidence of the 
 existence of any claimant of the Martindale 
 property ; but it was at the same time very 
 clear that Mr. John Martindale was gone to 
 London, and that these three people had gone 
 with him, and that they had all gone in his own 
 carriage. Now it was not likely that the old 
 gentleman should carry the oddity of his hu- 
 mor so far as to accommodate a claimant of his 
 property with the use of his own carriage. 
 There was a mystery in all this not to be solved. 
 Philip's inquiries were fruitless, therefore, at 
 Mr. Denver's; and all that he had ascertained 
 was, that nobody knew- what was the cause of 
 the extraordinary movements of his extraordi- 
 nary relative. 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 241 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 " Such is the weakness of all mortal hope, 
 So fickle is the state of earthly things, 
 
 That ere they come into their aimed scope. 
 They fall so short of our fraile reckonings, 
 
 And bring us bale and bitter sorrowings." 
 
 SpENSEft. 
 
 When any extraordinary event occurs in 
 which one is deeply interested, the person con- 
 cerned need not take much pains in his en- 
 deavours to'find it out — it will soon reveal itself. 
 So did it happen to Philip Martindale. But 
 the information did not come upon him all at 
 once — it was gradually developed like the catas- 
 trophe of a well-told tale. 
 
 VOL. I. h 
 
242 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 One of the first indications that all was not 
 right towards him in the matter of the Martin- 
 dale property was, that a few days after the 
 departure of the old gentleman, some letters 
 arrived, which required an answer not conve- 
 nient for him to give. These letters came all 
 together by a very remarkable coincidence; 
 and indeed it was very remarkable that so 
 many of the Hon. Philip Martindale's credi- 
 tors should be all at once most unaccounta- 
 bly pressed for money to make up a heavy pay- 
 ment. But there is no accounting for coinci- 
 dences. By this unpleasant indication of unplea- 
 sant news, the young gentleman was mightily 
 disturbed. We do not however mean to 
 insinuate that it was not in Mr. Philip's 
 power to stop the importunities of the above- 
 named creditors by satisfying their claims; but 
 as the October meeting at Newmarket was so 
 very near at hand, and as he had horses to run 
 at that meeting, it was absolutely and indis- 
 pensably necessary for him to make a reserve 
 to meet the exigences of that important con- 
 cern. Still, however, it was disagreeable to his 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 243 
 
 feelings to have the annoyance of such applica- 
 tions, and it occurred to him that he would once 
 more have recourse to the children of Israel 
 previously to the meeting at Newmarket ; and 
 with this intention he again visited the me- 
 tropolis. On this excursion he could very 
 conscientiously set out without informing his 
 cousin, as the old gentleman was in London him- 
 self, Mr. Philip, indeed, had no wish to meet 
 his worthy relative in town, and he had not 
 much fear of such an accident. 
 
 He lost no time when he arrived in town, but 
 made the best of his way to his well-known re- 
 sort, and found his kind accommodating friend 
 at home, but wearing an altered countenance. 
 Heavy complaints were heard, and gloomy 
 looks were seen, and it was altogether impos- 
 sible just at that unfortunate crisis to afford any 
 accommodation. — " That was the unkindest 
 cut of all." 
 
 Very properly resenting this insult, he speed- 
 ily left the house ; and being guided by his own 
 knowledge as well as by the reports of others, 
 he hastened to bestow his patronage on another 
 of the same profession, But the Hon. Philip 
 
244 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 Martindale of Brigland Abbey was not, it ap- 
 peared, at that time a name in high repute with 
 that class of gentry who observe the strictest 
 honor and secrecy in their transactions ; and 
 he had the mortification to find that his journey 
 to London had been of no avail, and was not 
 likely to be productive of any thing beneficial. 
 Some people would, under these circumstances, 
 have been disgusted with the world, and have 
 retired to a hermitage, thinking that all their 
 fellow-creatures were so worthless and unprin- 
 cipled as not to be worth noticing or fit to live 
 with. But happily in this instance for the Hon. 
 Philip Martindale, he was not so easily dis- 
 gusted with the world ; he was under great 
 obligations to it, and hoped to be under more. 
 It is certainly a very pleasant thing to have 
 a good opinion of oneself, but it is pleasanter 
 to have that opinion positively than compara- 
 tively; and to quarrel with all the world at once 
 is no great proof either of wisdom or virtue. 
 Besides, Mr. Philip knew that half a dozen 
 tradesmen, and half as many money-lenders, 
 were not all the world. 
 
 The old proverb concerning misfortunes not 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 245 
 
 coming singly, seemed to be about to be verified 
 in the case of Philip Martindale ; for as he was 
 thoughtfully pacing the streets of the great city, 
 and thinking of the various ills of life, and won- 
 dering how it should come to pass that a gen- 
 tleman called the honorable, and residing in a 
 magnificent mansion, and being heir-apparent 
 to a title, and being nearly related to and a 
 great favorite of a person of enormous wealth, 
 should not be comfortable and satisfied in his 
 own feelings as one residing in an inn of court, 
 and giving much of his days to the dry study of 
 the law. As he was thus meditating with him- 
 self, and communing with his own thoughts, he 
 was roused from his reverie by the sound of the 
 well-known voice of old John Martindale; for 
 the old gentleman had just left the Bank at the 
 moment that his cousin was passing it. With 
 110 very pleasant feeling did Philip return the 
 old gentleman's greeting. 
 
 ** So you have come to town to look after 
 me, Master Philip, But who would have 
 thought of meeting you in this part of the 
 world ? "What, have you any sly money trans- 
 
246 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 actions, or are you come to look after some rich 
 citizen's daughter. Or, perhaps, you have been 
 at my hotel, and you were directed here to find 
 me. But is your company all gone 1 Is it not 
 rather rude to leave them ? Well, but I hope 
 you will not stay long in town ; for there are 
 sad doings at the Abbey when you are out. 
 The other day, when you went to the archery 
 nonsense at Hovenden, I actually found a 
 couple of fellows smoking their filthy pipes in 
 the great hall at the Abbey, and I had much 
 ado to send them out of the house. Oliver told 
 me they were drunk. They had the impudence 
 to call themselves sheriffs' officers. Now, I do 
 not like this." 
 
 The old gentleman had talked himself almost 
 out of breath, and it was well for the young 
 gentleman that the old one did not like the 
 sound of any one's voice so well as that of his 
 own. Philip was one of those conscientious 
 people who endeavour as much as possible to 
 avoid all unnecessary lies ; and when he wished 
 to deceive, he preferred the circuitous shuffling 
 mode of equivocation to a plain downright 
 
.RANK AND TALENT. 247 
 
 honest lie. In some cases he found a difficulty 
 in escaping by this contrivance ; and this diffi- 
 culty he would have found in the instance in 
 question, had not old Mr. Martindale been too 
 much taken up with other thoughts and other 
 interests than those of Philip Martindale and 
 Brigland Abbey. But in truth he had been so 
 much delighted with his newly-discovered 
 daughter, that he took no very lively interest in 
 any thing else. At their first meeting there 
 were, as we said, no very extraordinary rap- 
 tures or dramatic exhibition ; but as they grew 
 better acquainted, the old gentleman was 
 charmed with the mild good sense and amiable 
 manners of Signora Rivolta, and was greatly 
 pleased with the intelligence and meekness of 
 his grand-daughter Clara. Even Colonel Ri- 
 volta, though he had commenced life in a mer- 
 cantile line, and had spent his best days in the 
 army, yet was not destitute of information and 
 literary taste. But the Hon. Philip Martin- 
 dale, though born a gentleman, educated at an 
 English university, and destined for the legal 
 profession, was, notwithstanding all these advan- 
 
248 RANK AND TALENT, 
 
 tages, by no means attached to literature, or 
 endowed with any great share of taste. The 
 old gentleman therefore had not been much 
 delighted with his society, inasmuch as his con- 
 versation was either grievously common-place, 
 or concerning those sports in which Mr. John 
 Martindale took no interest. Serious rivals 
 therefore had started up to engross the notice 
 of the opulent relative. This fact was known 
 very quickly to those whom it concerned ; viz. 
 the gentlemen of the strictest honor and 
 secrecy. Theirs, indeed, would be but a bad 
 business, if they could not now and then get 
 possession of early intelligence and important 
 secrets. 
 
 Very briefly did Mr. John Martindale inform 
 his cousin of the discovery which he had recently 
 made; and requesting, or rather commanding 
 the young gentleman to enter the carriage, 
 they proceeded westward, towards Mr. Martin- 
 dale's hotel. In the middle of the day the 
 streets of the city of London, though very 
 unfavorable for conversation, so far as foot- 
 passengers are concerned, afford peculiar ad- 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 249 
 
 vantages and opportunities for this purpose te 
 those who ride in carriages ; for the multitude 
 of vehicles, and their frequent misarrangement, 
 very conveniently retards progress, Philip 
 Martindale wished himself at home in England 
 Abbey, or quietly perusing briefs in his chani- 
 bers at the Temple, or any where rather than 
 where he was. But there was no escape for 
 him. 
 
 "Now, Philip," said the old gentleman, *' I 
 am going to introduce you to your new rela- 
 tions, or at least to mine, for I suppose you 
 will hardly condescend to acknowledge them." 
 
 " I shall be very happy, sir, to see, and very 
 proud to own, any relations of yours.'* So said 
 the Hon. Philip Martindale ; but his heart aod 
 lips were sadly at variance. He was not very 
 well pleased that such relations existed ; and it 
 would not be very agreeable to him to be on 
 terms of acquaintance, as he certainly must if 
 his cousin commanded him, with persons of low 
 and vulgar minds as he supposed these new 
 relatives must be. The old gentleman sus- 
 pecting that his high-minded relative wa& 
 
250 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 fancying that the persons in question were of 
 low caste, in consequence of their having been 
 discovered in a cottage with a poor man, 
 replied : 
 
 " And I will tell you what, young man, 
 they are not persons of whom you need to be 
 ashamed. Colonel Rivolta held a very respect- 
 able station in the army, though he did fight for 
 that fellow Bonaparte ; and his wife, who is my 
 daughter, is as well informed and well behaved 
 a woman as ever I saw in my life. The young 
 woman, I believe, you have seen before." 
 
 Philip did not like the tone in which the 
 latter part of this sentence was uttered, and 
 perhaps there was not a possibility of uttering 
 it in any tone that should be agreeable. Many 
 other topics of conversation were introduced, 
 none of which were very agreeable ; and even 
 that which the old gentleman uttered with great 
 glee, as being a matter of great interest and good 
 tidings to his cousin, was by no means agreeable 
 to the young gentleman. After having talked 
 some little time on the subject of his discovered 
 daughter, and as if fearing that his honorable 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 251 
 
 cousin might apprehend from this discovery 
 some ill fortune to himself, with the kind pur- 
 pose of banishing such fear, he observed : 
 
 " But you need not be jealous, Philip; I shall 
 not forget you : so make your mind easy." 
 
 There is a wonderful difference, thought 
 Philip, between making a man his heir and not 
 forgetting him. Now, this not forgetting ap- 
 peared to him more cruel and tormenting than 
 entirely discarding him. It is very true that 
 Mr. John Martindale had made no absolute 
 promise that Philip should be his heir ; and 
 even if he had made the promise, and had 
 violated it, there was no such thing as prose- 
 cuting him for breach of promise. He had 
 merely given strong indications that such was 
 his intention. Persons who are very rich, and 
 have no legal heirs, may entertain themselves 
 very much at the expense of hungry ex- 
 pectants and lean legacy-hunters. Who has 
 not seen a poor dog standing on his hind legs, 
 and bobbing up and down after a bone scarcely 
 worth picking, with which some mischief- loving 
 varlet has tantalised the poor animal till all its 
 
252 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 limbs have ached ? That poor dog shadows out 
 the legacy-hunter or possible heir. Every 
 body has a right to do as he pleases with his 
 own property, so far as concerns the disposition 
 of unentailed estates ; and every body has a 
 right to do a great number of actions which 
 may render his fellow-creatures miserable and 
 uncomfortable. Very few of the annoyances 
 to which man is exposed from his fellow-men 
 have a remedy from law. To be sure, it may 
 be said that the legacy-hunter is a simpleton 
 for giving another power over him ; but, alas ! 
 how could a young man, situated as the Hon. 
 Philip Martindale, help himself. As he himself 
 observed to his mother, ** if I refuse the offer 
 of the Abbey, I may so far offend the old 
 gentleman, as to induce him to leave his pro- 
 perty elsewhere." But the young gentleman 
 forgot that accepting the offer might, and very 
 naturally would, lead him into many difficulties, 
 and fix him as a dependent. He afterwards 
 discovered this, when it was too late to find a 
 remedy for the evil. But to proceed with our 
 narrative. 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 253 
 
 After Mr. Martindale the elder had ad- 
 dressed what he thought an encouraging speech 
 to his cousin, he called out to the coachman to 
 stop when they were near to Temple Bar. The 
 old gentleman then alighted, saying, he would 
 return in a few minutes ; and in a very few 
 minutes did he return, bringing with him a 
 gentleman whom Philip had seen before. This 
 was no other than Horatio Markham. Now 
 here was another mortification. Thus the poor 
 man was annoyed with one trouble after ano- 
 ther ; and thus his mortifications increased upon 
 him, and all because he must support the dig- 
 nity of his rank. He could not be uncivil to 
 Markham, nor indeed did he wish to be so- 
 He had said, and that very sincerely, that there 
 was nothing at all objectionable in Mark ham's 
 speech at the trial. He had been rather 
 pleased with it than otherwise ; he thought it 
 far better than that of his own counsellor ; and 
 he had observed to several persons that there 
 were some spouting prigs at the bar, that in a 
 cause like that would have represented the de- 
 fendant as a demon of incomparable malignity. 
 
254 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 and would have smothered him with a countless 
 accumulation of awkward metaphors. He had 
 said that Markham had shown much good sense 
 in stating his case clearly and strongly, and 
 without any of that school-boy slang, and those 
 theme-like declamations by which some ill- 
 judging ranters seem rather to seek the ap- 
 plauses of a tasteless mob than to apply them- 
 selves to that which may benefit a client. All 
 this he had said, and all this he had really and 
 truly thought ; but he had no wish for all that 
 to be brought into immediately close contact 
 and intimacy with the person of whom he had 
 said it. He respected Markham as a young 
 man of good understanding and sound judg- 
 ment ; but he had no particular desire to be ac- 
 quainted with all young men of good under- 
 standing and sound judgment. Still, however, 
 he behaved civilly to Markham ; and recollect- 
 ing what his cousin had told him, that the young 
 barrister was about to carry his legal talents to 
 another part of the world, he on this account 
 behaved to him with the less reserve, because 
 there was not much danger of soon meeting him 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 255 
 
 again, or being much troubled with his ac- 
 quaintance. On the other hand, Horatio 
 Markham, knowing or shrewdly suspecting the 
 character and disposition of the gentleman to 
 whom he was introduced, did not give himself 
 any pedantic or professional airs, but with a 
 very becoming and gentleman-like distance 
 quietly entered into common-place talk, directing 
 himself more to the elder of the two with whom 
 he had been previously acquainted, than with 
 the younger to whom he had been but recently 
 introduced. Philip Martindale, therefore, be- 
 gan actually to like his new acquaintance, who 
 was agreeable because he did not take any es- 
 pecial pains to make himself so, and who ap- 
 peared to be well-informed because he did not 
 studiously make a display of his knowledge. 
 Now Philip, who could not tolerate any pedan- 
 try but the pedantry of rank, and that pedantry 
 only in himself, was pleased with Markham for 
 the absence of pedantry and affectation. 
 
 After a long and tedious rumbling, the car- 
 riage deposited the party at a hotel in the 
 neighbourhood of St. James's Square. Most 
 
256 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 agreeably disappointed was Philip when he was 
 introduced to Siguora Rivolta. There was no 
 appearance of vulgarity or plebeianism about her. 
 There was nothing in her style which indicated a 
 disposition or tendency to impertinent encroach- 
 ment; but, on the contrary, her most excellent 
 and graceful carriage seemed as that of one 
 conferring, not receiving a patronage. In Clara 
 Rivolta, the daughter, he recognised that sweet 
 prettiness which had first attracted his disrespect- 
 ful attention ; but there was added to this, a kind 
 of mild dignity, a steady and calm self-posses- 
 sion, which appeared much more obviously and 
 impressively under change of circumstances. 
 In Signora Rivolta there was much more state- 
 liness than in Clara ; but there was a charm in 
 the general expression of the features, gait, and 
 manner of the latter, not easily described. 
 There was nothing of pertness in her self- 
 possession, and there was not the slightest 
 appearance of or the remotest approach towards 
 artificialness in any one part of her carriage and 
 demeanour. Philip was not much in the habit of 
 falling in love, nor was he frequently thrown into 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 257 
 
 raptures by intellectual and moral charms ; yet 
 in the present instance he was very much struck 
 both with the mother and daughter. Irresistibly 
 was he led to behave to both with most respectful 
 deference, and he for a moment forgot that these 
 charming women would in all probability deprive 
 him of the inheritance which otherwise seemed 
 destined for him. "Why could he not make an 
 offer of his hand to Clara? What obstacle could 
 there be to interfere with his success 1 Would 
 his cousin object to it ? Not likely. It would 
 be a very convenient match, so far as pecuniary 
 arrangements were concerned, and might save 
 the old gentleman some trouble in disposing of 
 his property. As for Miss Sampson, there 
 might be a disappointment to her in such a 
 step ; but her fortune would not suffer her to 
 wear the willow long. 
 
 Thoughts of this kind occupied the mind of 
 the heir of Lord Martindale, and this seemed 
 the most agreeable plan which he could possi- 
 bly adopt to get rid of his difficulties. Before 
 the day closed, he had made up his mind it 
 should be so. In contemplating this new ar- 
 
^58 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 rangement, he forgot to take one thing into 
 consideration, that is, the probable consent of 
 the young lady ; and he also forgot or neglected 
 to observe one thing, that is, the very particu- 
 lar attention paid to the young lady by Horatio 
 Markham. It is pleasant to be deceived, and 
 so we sometimes deceive ourselves, if nobody 
 else will take the pains to do it for us. Very 
 completely did Mr. Philip deceive himself in 
 the idea that scarcely any thing was wanting to 
 effect an union between Clara Rivolta and him- 
 self, save his own consent. He considered not 
 that a young woman under twenty years of age, 
 of secluded habits and of reflecting turn of mind, 
 of calm good sense and of a feeling and sensi- 
 ble soul, unused to the fashions and flurries 
 and formalities and flatteries of the great world, 
 would entertain a very different idea of love 
 from that entertained by a young gentleman 
 between twenty and thirty, whose expectations 
 weie mortgaged to money-lenders — whose plea- 
 sures were the turf and the ring — whose spirit 
 was agitated with gambling — whose motive for 
 marrying was the means to keep up the dignity 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 259 
 
 of his rank. He mi^ht have thought it possi- 
 ble that Clara Rivolta could not love the Hon. 
 Philip Martindale, and he might also have 
 thought it as possible that she would not marry 
 him if she did not love him. 
 
260 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 " Oh, for a horse with wings !" 
 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 ^' We must find 
 An evident calamity, though we had 
 Our wish, which side should win." 
 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 Philip Martindale was very glad that 
 his cousin had not asked any importunate ques- 
 tions concerning" the motive of his journey to 
 London, but he was very sorry that the journey 
 had been fruitless. He was desirous of return- 
 ing as soon as possible to Brigland, that he 
 might there discuss with Lord and Lady Mar- 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 261 
 
 tindale, whom he had left at the Abbey, the 
 important matter which had occupied his 
 thoughts, as described at the close of the last 
 chapter. For as yet they knew nothing of the 
 discovery of Mr. John Martindale's daughter ; 
 and their impression concerning the young 
 gentleman's journey to town was, that he had 
 been there with a view of endeavouring to 
 ascertain the real meaning and origin of the 
 rumours which were afloat as touching their 
 opulent relative. Philip, on his return to 
 Brigland, explained the whole affair. 
 
 Thereupon serious looks were assumed by 
 Lord and Lady Martindale, and those serious 
 looks reflected by their honorable son. They 
 were all three greatly perplexed — they all three 
 uttered many wise sayings — they all three talked 
 the matter over with great deliberation — they all 
 three resolved and concluded that something 
 must be done ; but they were all three at a loss 
 to know what must be done. Looking at one 
 another was not the best way to get over their 
 perplexities, and yet it is what people often do 
 in perplexities; nor was there any progress 
 
262 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 made by the simultaneous and harmonious ex- 
 pression of wishing that matters had been 
 otherwise. The past will not return, and that 
 which is done cannot be undone. There is no 
 great wisdom in this discovery ; the merit is in 
 applying it to practical purposes. A great 
 deal of time is lost, and a great deal of trouble 
 and pains incurred, for want of the wisdom 
 which the above truism would teach. Lady 
 Martindale repeated what she had said before, 
 as to the impolicy of Philip's accepting the old 
 gentleman's offer of the Abbey. Philip re- 
 peated what he had said before, namely, that 
 he might have offended and alienated the old 
 gentleman by a refusal. Lord Martindale re- 
 peated, that there was some truth and pro- 
 priety in what they both said. Still they were 
 no nearer to a conclusion promising any satis- 
 faction. 
 
 In the midst of this perplexity, Philip 
 thought it would be a good time to propose 
 his own scheme for getting rid of all the dif- 
 ficulty by offering his hand to Clara Rivolta* 
 He was not, however, without his fears that the 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 263 
 
 proposal would not be acceptable to Lord and 
 Lady Martindale : he therefore approached 
 the subject cautiously and circuitously. After 
 a little pause, and with a change of tone and 
 altered look, as if the question of what must be 
 done had been adjourned and a new topic called, 
 he began to talk of the meeting with these newly- 
 discovered relatives in such a manner as to lead 
 Lady Martindale to ask particularly as to their 
 appearance and manner. To this inquiry he 
 gave such an answer as impressed her ladyship 
 with a higher opinion of them all three than he 
 had actually expressed in his description of them. 
 He uttered his compliments in the tone and 
 with the air of concession, and his language 
 was circuitous, so that it did not appear pur- 
 posely directed to the object of exciting a high 
 opinion of the party. When he spoke of Signora 
 Rivolta, he did not say that her style was truly 
 noble and commanding, but he said that her 
 style and address reminded him of the Hon. 
 
 Mrs. B , or of Lady Charlotte D . Then 
 
 he added some little qualification of the compari- 
 son ; but the qualification was rather in favor 
 of the daughter of John Martindale, so far as 
 
264 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 the taste of Lady Martindale was concerned ; 
 for it is a notorious fact that all sensible people 
 think differently from the rest of the world. 
 Therefore, if there be in any character or in- 
 dividual a little more or a little less than what 
 the world in general is supposed to consider the 
 medium of excellence, sensible people rather 
 admire such excess or defect. Sensible people, 
 for instance, may admire that eccentricity 
 which is not according to the popular standard. 
 Some may admire rather more than the 
 standard allowance of pride, or prefer a iittle 
 deficiency in the article of meekness. Philip 
 was well acquainted with his mother's taste in 
 all these matters, and therefore he extolled the 
 ladies to his mother's mind, though he did not 
 loudly praise them to her ear ; for he spoke of 
 the daughter after the same manner as he had 
 spoken of the mother. 
 
 Another pause following this part of the con- 
 versation, gave an opportunity to' Lord Martin- 
 dale to suggest that it might perhaps be ad- 
 visable for Philip to marry the young foreigner, 
 and thus to have a double hold on Mr. John 
 Martindale's affections. This proposal was very 
 
HANK. AND TALENT. 265 
 
 artfully insinuated into his lordship's mind by 
 the manner in which Philip had spoken of the 
 high esteem in which Mr. John Martindale ap- 
 peared to hold his new family. When his lord- 
 ship had spoken, Philip did not reply, waiting 
 for Lady Martindale's opinion, which was ge- 
 nerally of more weight in the family than that 
 of his lordship. No answer being given, the 
 question was repeated. 
 
 Philip then replied, that what bis lordship 
 had said was perfectly true ; the property of 
 Mr. John Martindale would be clearly secured 
 by this arrangement, and so far as the young lady 
 was concerned, there could be no objection on 
 the ground of style and manner, or of education. 
 
 This was said hesitatingly, so that his lord- 
 ship was under the necessity of asking what 
 other objection there could be ; to which Mr. 
 Philip ventured to mention the circumstance of 
 her mother's birth. Now this on Philip's part 
 was a very affected refinement ; but it was said 
 for Lady Martindale's ear, who then replied, 
 that such objection was fastidious indeed, if the 
 
 VOL. I. M 
 
266 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 ladies were such as they had been described. 
 The greatest objectioQ to such a step was, in 
 her opinion, that it was not quite so sure of 
 answering the purpose in point of property as 
 they imagined. There was no answering for 
 caprice ; and it was possible that the property 
 might be so left, as that Philip might have no 
 power over it. 
 
 This objection staggered the young gentle- 
 man's resolution, and rendered his scheme not 
 so totally unexceptionable as he had imagined 
 it to be. He looked thoughtful ; and Lady 
 Martindale continued, saying, that after all this 
 plan would but increase and perpetuate her 
 son's dependence : that so long as he was un- 
 married, an opportunity might occur for him to 
 marry a fortune, and place himself out of the 
 power of Mr. John Martindale's caprice. But 
 again Philip replied, that if he should marry a 
 fortune, and not please his cousin by his mar- 
 riage, he should then lose all expectation from 
 him, and that there were very few fortunes ac- 
 cessible that would compensate for the loss of 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 267 
 
 Mr. John Martindale's friendship. The whole 
 deliberation at last concluded without coming 
 to any definite conclusion. 
 
 Lady Martindale repeated, and Lord Martin- 
 dale coincided with her in the opinion, that the 
 wisest scheme of all would be, that Philip 
 should give himself to public business, and that 
 then he might be independent without forfeiting 
 the friendship of his cousin. But Philip could 
 not get the Jews out of his head, and the Jews 
 could not get Philip out of their books. 
 
 In this unpleasant state of mind the honorable 
 gentleman continued for several days ; during 
 which time Mr. John Martindale remained still 
 in London, highly delighted with his Italian 
 relatives, and exhibiting them wherever he 
 could, though at that time of year there was 
 comparatively little opportunity of displaying 
 them. Philip made inquiries at his cousin's 
 cottage every morning, but no intelligence con- 
 cerning the old gentleman could be procured. 
 Lord and Lady Martindale took their leave of 
 the Abbey, and Philip promised to join them in 
 London before the end of January, by which 
 
268 ra:nk and talent. 
 
 time, perhaps, something might occur which 
 would decide him as to what steps he should 
 take. 
 
 The day at length arrived for the Newmarket 
 meeting. Much business was expected to be 
 transacted, and some very fine races were an- 
 ticipated. The town was delightfully full, and 
 Philip was in all his glory. He thought not of 
 the Jews, or any of his other creditors. The 
 charms of Clara Rivolta were forgotten ; and 
 the lively Celestina would have been forgotten 
 too, but she was present on the ground. 
 
 The barouche of Sir Gilbert Sampson was 
 most conveniently placed ; and on the box 
 thereof sat Celestina Sampson at her father's 
 side, and within were two other young ladies 
 attended by the fragrant Henry Augustus Tip- 
 petson. The morning was fine, and the ground 
 was brilliant. Rank, beauty, and fashion were 
 there ; the cream of English nobility ; the stars 
 of English beauty ; souls of the first order ; the 
 pride of that nation which is the pride of the 
 world. Glorious was the object for which they 
 were assembled, and deep was the feeling with 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 269 
 
 which their minds were animated. Who could 
 look without emotion, or think without interest, 
 on a scene like this I Where should our here- 
 ditary legislators, our modern Solons and Ly- 
 curguses, so well learn the science of govern- 
 ment as in converse with black-legs and stable- 
 boys? What occupation so befitting the most 
 noble, the right honorable of the land — the 
 superfine part of the species— the arbiters of 
 the world's destiny — the brightest lights of the 
 collective wisdom of the nation — as the spend- 
 ing of princely fortunes to see how much faster 
 one horse can run than another? And when 
 the horses start, and while they are straining all 
 their isinews, and while one rogue or another 
 is trying how much he can make of the simple- 
 tons there, how intense is the interest ! Every 
 eye is strained, every neck is stretched, 
 breathing is almost suspended, and the heart is 
 almost afraid to beat ; and when the great event 
 is decided, then how many purses change hands, 
 and how many blockheads go home again re- 
 penting their folly. But let that pass. It is 
 enough for us here to state that the Hon. 
 
270 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 Philip Martindale was the winner, and that to 
 a very considerable amount. He received the 
 congratulations of his friends. Sir Gilbert and 
 Miss Sampson congratulated him. Henry Au- 
 gustus Tippetson congratulated him. Philip, 
 however, had many accounts to settle ; some on 
 one side, and some on the other. There was 
 not one to whom he lost a bet who found 
 any inconvenience in receiving it — there were 
 a few of whom he won who found it incon- 
 venient to pay. Some of those to whom he 
 paid were so very desirous that he should win 
 again what he had lost, that they politely and 
 considerately invited him to the hazard-table ; 
 and when he left the hazard-table, he was not 
 so much an object of congratulation as he had 
 been at the conclusion of the race. He was 
 very much fatigued ; quite worn out by the 
 day's toil and the night's play. Legislation 
 must be quite rest and refreshment to the 
 honorable, right honorable, and most noble 
 frequenters of the race-course and the hazard- 
 table. 
 The honorable dependent on the bounty of 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 271 
 
 John Martlndale retired to his lodgings, and 
 looked over his betting-book and into his pocket- 
 book, and considering that he was a winner at 
 the race, he found himself much poorer than he 
 expected. He felt no inclination to lay violent 
 hands on himself; he did not clench his fists and 
 strike his knuckles upon the table, nor did he 
 beat his own forehead, nor did he think of 
 hanging himself when he took off his garters, or 
 entertain the slightest idea of cutting his throat 
 when he looked at his razors. From what we 
 have seen in plays and read in story-books about 
 gambling, one should imagine that pistol-making 
 and rope-twisting would be the best trades 
 going at Newmarket ; we are not sure that it 
 may not be so, but we have never heard that it 
 is. At all events, we do know that when Philip 
 Martindale found that he was a considerable 
 loser in the long run, though he had been 
 a winner on the turf, he was very deeply mor- 
 tified, and looked very foolish. He wished 
 himself back in his chambers at the Temple ; 
 but he did not use any violent gesticulations, or 
 groan aloud so as to alarm the people of the 
 
272 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 house. We think it especially necessary to 
 mention these facts, in order to let our readers 
 know what a very curious character Philip 
 Martindale was. His conduct deserves to be 
 particularly mentioned in the present case, 
 because it seems to be the general practice, 
 judging from books, for all gamblers when they 
 lose their money to look very pale, to get very 
 drunk, to clench their fists, and to stamp so as to 
 split the very boards of the floor, and finally to 
 hang, drown, poison, or shoot themselves. The 
 last is the most common. Such is the usual 
 description, and real life no doubt has exhibited 
 some such cases ; but powerfully as these may 
 have been painted, we much question if that 
 extreme delineation has been serviceable to the 
 cause of morals. Nor are we afraid that, 
 because we have here stated a very ordi- 
 nary case of a silly young gentleman losing h^s 
 money, and not going distracted and blow- 
 ing out his brains, we shall therefore give en- 
 couragement to others to throw away their time 
 and money in the same foolish way. 
 
 The poor young man however found it very 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 273 
 
 difficult to sleep after his losses ; for though he 
 was not distracted, he was grievously troubled 
 in spirit, and much bewildered in his thoughts. 
 He wished, over and over again, that he had 
 not sat down to hazard ; but his wishing did not 
 bring back what he had Jost. He almost wished 
 that he had not been born an hereditary legis- 
 lator, for then he might have applied himself to 
 some useful pursuit, and not have been under 
 the necessity of going to Newmarket and losing 
 his money in a right honorable way to keep up 
 his dignity. But it is very hard if a man of 
 rank and fortune cannot have his amusements, 
 and what else can a man of rank and fortune do 
 with his time and property than waste them 
 among sharpers I 
 
 It became now more and more imperative 
 upon the young gentleman that he should se- 
 riously set himself to repair his broken fortunes, 
 and his various meditations on the plans v/hich 
 suggested themselves for that purpose very 
 naturally prevented him from sleeping. His 
 habits had not much accustomed him to that 
 application which business might require, and 
 
274 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 his recent patrician contempt of study had put 
 him into possession of so large a stock of ig- 
 norance as to be rather in the way of his pro- 
 motion. It is not indeed much to be wondered 
 at that, considering how widely and deeply 
 education has lately been diffused^ the higher 
 sort of people should now and then court the 
 singularity of not knowing, and preserve their 
 separation from the inferior orders by an ig- 
 norance of that which every body knows ; for it 
 is very clear that whatever becomes universal, 
 must of necessity cease to be fashionable : there- 
 fore the education bestowed upon the multi- 
 tude must compel the higher ranks in their 
 own defence to cultivate ignorance, unless they 
 would give themselves the trouble of toiling 
 more laboriously in pursuit of knowledge than 
 the lower orders. That is not very likely. 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 275 
 
 CHA^PTER XVII, 
 
 " Good shepherd, tell this youth, what 'tis to love." 
 
 Shakspeape. 
 
 It is now necessary for us to revert to old 
 Mr. Martindale and his new pets. So delighted 
 was he with the general character of the minds 
 of this family, that he was reluctant to make 
 any arrangement which should remove them 
 from continual intercourse with himself. Very 
 soon did they become essential to him ; for they 
 seemed to open his mind to a new consciousness 
 of being. The discovery of their existence was 
 
276 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 the means of removing a burden from his soul ; 
 and not only was there a negative satisfaction 
 derived from having thus providentially met 
 with them, but the very lively and unexpected 
 interest which he took in their being and well 
 being, gave to his own existence a positive 
 satisfaction, and a feeling hitherto unknown ; 
 so that in the intervals of reflection and thought, 
 he was under a frequent necessity of saying to 
 himself, '* But I must not forget Philip." 
 
 There was also another, though an uninten- 
 tional and unconscious rival of Philip Martin - 
 dale, in the person of Horatio Markham. But 
 we will do Philip the justice to say, that he 
 entertained no mean jealousy of this gentleman ; 
 inasmuch as he did not apprehend the proba- 
 bility of Markham's occupying a very impor- 
 tant station in the old gentleman's last will and 
 testament. Markham, indeed, did not seem to 
 be acting the part of a legacy-hunter; and 
 Philip felt very well satisfied with the thought, 
 that many rich old men had in their life-time 
 had many friends for whom they appeared to 
 have a greater regard than for their own fa- 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 277 
 
 mily, but to whom they have seldom made 
 bequests of a nature so serious as deeply to 
 injure their own relatives. There was, how- 
 ever, a danger in Markham's intimacy with the 
 old gentleman under present circumstances, of 
 which danger Mr. Philip was not sufficiently 
 aware. Our allusion is to the growing ac- 
 quaintance between the young barrister and 
 Clara Rivolta. The young lady had a grateful 
 recollection of the considerate and respectful 
 manner in which Markham had conducted him- 
 self at the trial, contrasted especially as that 
 manner was with the boisterous and vulgar 
 rudeness of the defendant's counsel. So com- 
 pletely indeed was the young lady disgusted 
 with the rudeness and coarseness manifested 
 by the latter, that though she was tolerably well 
 acquainted with English customs, so far as 
 books could inform her, she could with diffi- 
 culty be brought to believe that barristers were 
 uniformly gentlemen of education ; she could 
 not help thinking that they must be of no 
 higher rank or more polished manners than 
 
278 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 bailiffs and constables. What ludicrous mis- 
 takes foreigners do sometimes fall into ; and if 
 the English were not a very polite nation, they 
 would laugh at these blunders. 
 
 We have noticed already that Markham was 
 very much struck with the personal appearance 
 of Clara Rivolta when he saw her in the cot- 
 tage of poor old Richard Smith ; he was not 
 less pleased with her when he saw her in those 
 circumstances which he had in the first instance 
 thought most appropriate to her. When he 
 became more acquainted with her, and by con- 
 versation had traced the existence of as much 
 mind and of as good feelings as her features 
 and their expression had already intimated to 
 his imagination, it is no wonder that he should 
 be more interested in her than ever. When 
 also he learned, as he did from the sociable 
 communicativeness of old Mr. Martindale, how 
 nearly she was related to a wealthy man ; and 
 when he saw how much of a favorite she was 
 with the old gentleman, it was not likely that 
 his regard for her should be diminished. Mark- 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 279 
 
 ham was by no means a selfish man, nor was he 
 insensible to the desirableness of a fair fortune. 
 He was not quite so romantic as to despise 
 wealth ; and if he had been originally addicted 
 to that propensity, the frequent receiving of 
 fees would have had no small tendency to cure 
 it. However, it should be said that the motive 
 for his attachment to the young lady had not, 
 in the first instance, any thing to do with pecu- 
 niary expectations. Mr. Martindale himself 
 contributed to cherish the attachment, for he 
 was constantly soliciting the young man to 
 favor them with his company ; for as the 
 old gentleman lived almost entirely at Brigland, 
 he knew comparatively nothing about London, 
 and the season of the year was not that at 
 which any of his friends were in town. 
 
 The time now was very near when Markham 
 should take his departure from his native land, 
 and enter upon his professional duties in 
 another region. Pleasant as preferment may 
 be, there is always a degree of pain felt at 
 parting from familiar faces and familiar scenes. 
 This unpleasant feeling was by anticipation 
 
280 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 coming upon the young barrister. He thought 
 that he should very much miss the society to 
 which he had been accustomed ; he thought 
 there was a peculiar, indescribable charm in 
 the very streets of London and Westminster ; 
 he thought, with a shudder of repugnance, of a 
 long, tedious, and as it were solitary voyage ; 
 he thought that nobody would think about him 
 when he was gone ; he thought that Clara 
 Rivolta would be married before he came 
 back. He wondered whether she knew that he 
 was going abroad ; he v/ondered whether she 
 would care where or when he might go ; he 
 wondered whether she had ever been in love. 
 These thoughts and these wonderings grew 
 thicker and stronger as the time moved on, 
 and he said to himself that Clara was a most 
 interesting creature, but that he was not de- 
 cidedly in love with her, as was very manifest 
 by his being perfectly at ease when he was 
 absent from her. He did not take into con- 
 sideration, as perhaps he should have done, 
 that the absence which he bore with so much 
 fortitude was an absence likely to be soon 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 281 
 
 succeeded by the pleasure of seeing her again. 
 There was also another thought which he over- 
 looked, and that was, why did he take pains to 
 persuade himself that he was not in love? Who 
 said he was ? 
 
 It is not fair, however, to lay open to our 
 readers the heart of one of the parties, and 
 totally to veil that of the other. Clara Rivolta 
 had scarcely had any other society than that of 
 her father and mother ; and indeed, for the 
 last four years, a very important part of her 
 life, her mother and old Richard Smith had 
 been her only companions. The very little 
 which she had seen of English people had not 
 made a favorable impression of their character 
 upon her mind. While residing with her 
 mother at Brigland, she had seen but few of 
 the inhabitants of that place, and those not of 
 the better sort. The only individual of the 
 better sort, so called, that she had seen, was 
 the Hon. Philip Martindale; and him she 
 thought the worst sort of man she had ever 
 seen. She at first mistook him for a game- 
 jieeper ; then she thought that he must be the 
 
282 rank: and talent. 
 
 coachman or groom to the great man at the 
 Abbey ; and nothing could exceed her astonish- 
 ment when old Richard Smith informed her 
 that it was the great man himself ; then, like 
 all young people, hastily formed and readily 
 expressed her opinion, that the highest class of 
 people in England were the lowest people in 
 the world. She was very wrong, but she had 
 not much knowledge of the subject. The 
 English people have so much originality and 
 individuality, that it is not easy to find an in- 
 dividual who is a complete specimen of any 
 class. To satirise or to compliment any class 
 as a class, is absurd. It may do very well for 
 a particular purpose, at a tavern-dinner, or in a 
 dedication, to use highly complimentary lan- 
 guage, which may be uttered with all the 
 plausibility of truth and sincerity. It may 
 also tell well in a farce or a comedy to satirise 
 a whole class or profession; but to use such 
 language in sad or sober earnest, is grievously 
 unphilosophical and inaccurate. There are 
 minds of every variety, intellects of every 
 rank, hearts of every complexion in all classes. 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 283 
 
 The virtues and the vices show differently under 
 different circumstances. It was however par- 
 donable in a young woman who knew scarcely 
 any thing of human society, to form a wrong 
 judgment ; but, by degrees, her mind was en- 
 larged and judgment corrected. Had she 
 taken her notion of barristers solely from the 
 clever, witty advocate of the Hon. Philip 
 Martiudale, she would have thought no better 
 of barristers than she did of the sons of nobility. 
 But Horatio Markham tended to correct her 
 judgment in this particular. He was not a 
 coxcomb ; he was not a rude, blustering, self- 
 sufficient and pert blockhead, fancying himself 
 the depositary of all wisdom and the oracle of 
 all ages ; he did not aim at a display of his own 
 wisdom, by insinuations that all the rest of 
 mankind were simpletons. It must however be 
 confessed that he was rather pedantic ; he 
 talked a little too professionally ; and he had, 
 in his ordinary mode of speaking and convers- 
 ing, too much of the peculiar manner of the 
 bar; he told many anecdotes, and they were 
 mostly of the luminaries of his own profession ; 
 
284 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 his conversation was much about books; be 
 spoke of books critically, and as he had a good 
 memory, he repeated many passages, especially 
 of some of the more modern poets; and in 
 reading or quoting, he had a very peculiar and 
 prosy mode of utterance. In his expressions of 
 admiration he was very enthusiastic ; biit his 
 only censure was silence. Being, as it should 
 seem, much pleased with his own peculiar elo- 
 quence of encomium, he was most pleased with 
 praising ; and so ingenious was his praise, that 
 he not unfrequently found in his favorite 
 writers beauties which the authors themselves 
 were not aware of. Many others have been 
 accused of doing the same ; but we will vin- 
 dicate them and him by observing, that it is 
 quite as possible for an author to strike out 
 beauties of which himself is unconscious and 
 undesigning, as it is for an artist, by an acci- 
 dental touch of his pencil, to "snatch a grace 
 beyond the reach of art." The mind is not 
 always conscious of the gracefulness of its 
 transient and unstudied attitudes. 
 
 We could say much more of Markham, but 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 285 
 
 we must postpone it. Our present concern is 
 with the mind of Clara Rivolta, and her senti- 
 ments of and towards this young man. He was 
 to all intents the most agreeable man she had 
 seen since her arrival in England ; and his slight 
 tincture of pedantry, and his love of quotation 
 and recitation, tedious and stupid as they might 
 have been to many others, were to her pecu- 
 liarly agreeable. Men's hearts are stolen 
 through the eye — women's through the ear. 
 Clara was pleased with Markham's voice because 
 she liked poetry ; and as the poetry first ren- 
 dered his company delightful, and his voice 
 to her ear musical, so in process of time his 
 company and his voice rendered the poetical 
 extracts more pleasing. Markham also under- 
 stood Italian ; but to a native of Italy he 
 would not read or recite her own poetry ; but 
 he often brought to her Italian poetry, and her 
 bright eyes sparkled at the sight, and she began 
 to like the English people better, because they 
 had paid reverence to the poets of her native 
 land by printing their works beautifully. 
 Markham wished to hear the poetry of Italy 
 
286 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 read by a native ; Clara could not refuse him, 
 because he had been so obliging as to read much 
 English poetry to her ; but she was almost 
 afraid to read to him, because she could not 
 read so well as he could. That is a pretty and 
 pardonable piece of vanity. But the fact is, 
 Markham did not read so remarkably well : he 
 had a singing kind of a tone ; he read in a kind 
 of recitative ; some used to say he read very ill. 
 We should wish these people to be sentenced to 
 hear reading without a tone. At all events, 
 Markham's reading was very pleasant to Clara ; 
 and to Markham's ear there was no music so 
 sweet as Clara's voice. She had read to him 
 two or three of the sonnets of Petrarch ; and 
 Markham thought that he should recollect the 
 melody of that voice when he should be afar off 
 sailing on the mighty deep. How sweetly can 
 the closed eye, by its own internal light, call up 
 bright scenes which time and space have put 
 far from us ! and as sweetly in night's silence 
 and its wakeful repose rings in our ear again the 
 voice of the absent and the beloved. When 
 Clara read to Markham, there was a tremu- 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 287 
 
 lousness in her voice, and there was a tear in 
 her eye ; the tear was hardly visible, and not 
 large enough to fall ; but she felt it there, and 
 her tremulousness increased. Scenes of this 
 nature frequently occurred, and they produced 
 their very natural effect. Clara felt herself 
 very happy in Markham's company, always 
 asked his opinion on matters of taste and lite- 
 rature, was continually finding out new poetical 
 beauties in Markham's favorite authors, and 
 perpetually discovering some philological dif- 
 ficulties in the English language, of which no 
 one but Markham could give her a solution. 
 It was not till she knew him that her mind was 
 powerfully impressed with the absolute neces- 
 sity of learning with very strict and minute 
 attention the niceties of the English language. 
 
 There was another circumstance which con- 
 tributed to increase Clara's partiality to Horatio 
 Markham ; namely, his affectionate attention to 
 his parents, and his respectful deference to their 
 wishes. This she had no opportunity of ob- 
 serving, but she had heard Mr. John Martin- 
 dale speak of it in highly complimentary terms. 
 
288 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 She was very well pleased to hear Markham 
 praised. She did not say to herself that she 
 was not in love, nor indeed did she know or 
 suspect that she was. But she was very much 
 pleased with Horatio Markham, and never 
 spoke of him to any one, though she listened 
 with great pleasure to any one who spoke of 
 him favorably. This was certainly sympto- 
 matic, but the young woman was not aware of 
 the nature of the symptoms, or of wh^ they 
 portended. When she learned the vocabulary, 
 she did not find that , admiration meant love ; 
 she did not find that gratitude meant love ; 
 she did not find that habit meant love ; she did 
 not find that approbation meant love ; but in 
 process of time she began to suspect that all these 
 put together produced a feeling very much like 
 love. 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 289. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 ** If we do meet again, why, we shall smile ; 
 If not, why then this parting was well made." 
 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 A WEEK is soon gone. This is not men- 
 tioned to our readers by way of information, as 
 if any of them should be ignorant of the fact ; 
 but by way of directing their minds to a sym- 
 pathy with Horatio Markham, who found that 
 the last days of his remaining in England 
 were shorter in their duration than any which 
 VOL. I. N 
 
290 RANK AND TALENT, 
 
 had preceded them. In spite of all he had 
 said to himself concerning his not being in love, 
 he could not but experience a very painful feel- 
 ing at the thought that he must soon leave the 
 pleasant party with whom he was so agreeably 
 spending so many of his hours. He could not 
 persuade himself that he was not in love ; and 
 the more he said so, the less he believed it. He 
 had taken his leave of his parents and his early 
 friends. He thought it becoming to take a 
 formal leave also of his new friend, Mr. John 
 Martindale ; he hesitated whether he should 
 also make a business of taking leave of Colonel 
 Rivolta and his family. He bethought himself 
 that he had in his possession a book belonging 
 to Clara, and that he ought to return it. He 
 might send it, or he might leave it with Mr, 
 Martindale, requesting him to present a mes- 
 sage of thanks ; and that plan would obviate the 
 inconvenience of personally returning it, in 
 doing which he feared that he might betray 
 some emotion which he would fain conceal. 
 For the truth is, he was of opinion that it w ould 
 not be a prudent step to declare an attachment 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 291 
 
 at a moment when he was just about to leave 
 England. That would be to involve him- 
 self and Clara too in a painful perplexity. 
 There were many changes to be feared during 
 the time of his absence from England. There 
 was a considerate thought that it would be 
 scarcely advisable that he should form an en- 
 gagement so long before it could be fulfilled ; 
 and amidst other ideas which occupied his 
 mind on the subject, was the consideration of 
 theological differences between the parties. 
 
 All these things had their weight ; but it 
 does not follow that because a young man con- 
 siders, that he is therefore considerate. Power- 
 ful as consideration may be, feeling is much more 
 powerful ; and it has also an efficacy in overruling 
 and influencing the decisions of the understand- 
 ing, and cheating the judgment by a speciousness 
 of reasoning. Thus it was that Markham, with 
 all his sagacity, allowed himself to be imposed 
 on. He reasoned thus : — Perhaps, if I leave 
 England without announcing it to Clara, it 
 may occur to her that I had some very power- 
 ful reason for such neglect of common polite- 
 
292 RANK AiND TALENT. 
 
 iiess, and there may arise in her mind a suspi- 
 cion of that which really exists, and then there 
 may be in her mind a corresponding sentiment, 
 which, if not cherished, may die away and be 
 forgotten ; and it would not be right for me to 
 arouse such sentiments at such a time. , It will 
 be best then if T personally return the booli, 
 and very coolly and politely take my leave ; 
 yet, upon second thoughts, why should or need 
 there be any thing of coolness in my manner. 
 It will be most suitable to be perfectly uniform, 
 and to take my leave in a friendly, cordial man- 
 ner, as I have hitherto behaved towards her. 
 
 With this resolution he made his last visit, 
 with a view of taking leave of Colonel and 
 Signora Rivolta and of Clara, and of returning 
 with thanks a book which he had borrowed 
 from the latter. Books are very convenient for 
 lovers ; they are a species of Cupid's go-cart ; 
 they are the gentle and gradual introduction of 
 sentiment ; they speak without blushing ; they 
 are fluent in the utterance, and they can tell 
 many a tender tale by a doubled leaf, or a pen- 
 cil mark ; or a rose-leaf may mark an interest- 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 293 
 
 ing page. When Markham talked to himself 
 about a cool and quiet leave-taking and a 
 friendly farewell, he did not recollect or deeply 
 think of books interchanged, and of beautiful 
 passages marked for their sentiment and pathos, 
 and most peculiarly applicable to peculiar cir- 
 cumstances : he forgot how many striking pas- 
 sages and elegant extracts he had read aloud, 
 and how much force and energy he gave, or 
 attempted to give, to these expressive and se- 
 lect beauties : he forgot how many associa- 
 tions were connected with books. There was 
 also another circumstance which of course did 
 not occur to him. Clara Rivolta was not si- 
 tuated as any young woman of English family 
 and extensive acquaintance ; she had not seen 
 much of society ; Markham was the only young 
 gentleman with whom she was at all ac- 
 quainted ; and those few other persons whom 
 she had seen did not make any favourable im- 
 pression on her mind. By comparison there- 
 fore with them, Markham was highly agreeable 
 to her, and positively also was he not unac- 
 ceptable, inasmuch as Clara herself had no 
 
294 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 slight tincture of what may be called pedantry. 
 Confined intercourse with human society pro- 
 duces, almost of necessity, some degree of 
 pedantry, which is nothing more than an undue 
 estimate of the importance of some one object 
 of human interest or pursuit. Clara had lived se- 
 cluded, had been much alone, was of a poetical 
 and almost romantic temperament, had contem- 
 plated humanity and its interests through the 
 medium of imagination and poetry ; she had lived 
 in a world of her own, and the world of reality 
 was to her thought harsh, rough, and un- 
 gracious. When therefore she met with Mark- 
 ham, who had also an imagination somewhat 
 poetical, and a decided taste for the lighter and 
 more graceful productions of genius ; and when 
 she saw this young gentleman brought into 
 immediate contrast with an uncourteous and 
 rude coxcomb, as he was at the trial, her 
 opinion of him was flattering ; and when, after 
 farther acquaintance, she observed that his 
 mind was well-cultivated, his manners gentle, 
 his deportment essentially and decidedly cour- 
 teous, and when he had taken great pains to 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 295 
 
 tender her well pleased with scenes about her, 
 and to communicate information to her on such 
 topics as she felt interested in, she became 
 more and more pleased with his society, always 
 happy to see him, always happy to hear him, 
 disposed to acquiesce in his judgment, and to be 
 guided by his opinion ; and above all, as there 
 was not in her heart any previous attachment, 
 very naturally her affections rested more ten- 
 derly on Markham than she was well aware. 
 
 If, therefore, Markham had need of manage- 
 ment and direction, that he might take his leave 
 of Clara without betraying any undue emotion, 
 so had the young lady also as great need to 
 exercise a commanding discretion on her part. 
 But in this matter the lady was not so well 
 prepared as the gentleman ; for the latter was 
 somewhat aware of the state of his own mind, 
 but the former knew not aright the nature of 
 the interest she felt in the company of her 
 kind and intelligent friend. Markham had told 
 Mr. Martindale of the day fixed for his depar- 
 ture, and the old gentleman insisted that he 
 should spend his last day in their company. 
 
296 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 It is very remarkable, but not less true than 
 strange, that though Mr. Martindale had cau- 
 tioned the young gentleman against losing his 
 heart when he saw Clara in old Richard 
 Smith's cottage, and regarded her merely as a 
 country girl, yet it never occurred to the old 
 gentleman, now the real circumstances of the 
 young lady were known, and Markham was in 
 the daily habit of seeing and conversing with 
 her, that there was any danger of an attach- 
 ment springing up between them. Mr. Mar- 
 tindale, if he thought at all upon the subject, 
 thought that all Markham's visits and attentions 
 were to himself, and for his sake ; and he was 
 pleased with the young gentleman for devoting 
 so much of his time to the party. Signora 
 Rivolta, however, thought and saw otherwise. 
 It was clear to her observing eye and her dis- 
 cerning mind, that Markham's visits, if not 
 attracted by Clara, were at least rendered 
 agreeable by her company. It was also very 
 obvious to her that the barrister's visits were 
 agreeable to Clara, and that an attachment to 
 the young gentleman had been gradually and 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 297 
 
 insensibly forming in her heart. It might be 
 supposed that the faith in which Signora 
 Rivolta had been educated, would have in- 
 fluenced and determined her to oppose every 
 obstacle in her power to the growth of such an 
 attachment; but the truth is, that she had 
 understanding enough to discern that the 
 dangers and difficulties of opposition were as 
 great and as serious as the danger threatened 
 by this young attachment : for she knew that 
 such had ever been the imaginative and ardent 
 complexion of Clara's mind, that if love should 
 ever take possession of her heart, it would have 
 a strong hold there, beyond the power of ordi- 
 nary arguments and every-day principles to 
 expel. She was not quite satisfied, for she had 
 never had an opportunity of ascertaining how 
 deeply the principles of her religion were 
 infixed in her mind, nor could she conjecture 
 what power these principles might have over 
 her afi*ections. She thought it safer, therefore, 
 to avoid bringing these principles into danger 
 by any premature experiment of their strength. 
 There was also to be added to these considera- 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 tions another thought; it was possible that 
 Markham might be brought over to the true 
 faith ; and it may also be remarked that Signora 
 Rivolta herself was not so very decided, as some 
 persons of her faith are supposed to be, in the 
 conviction that there could be no salvation out 
 of the pale of that church to which she be- 
 longed. That there could be many virtues out 
 of the pale of that church, she had learned 
 from the amiable and excellent character of 
 her maternal uncle, poor old Richard Smith ; 
 and that a religion which she had been taught 
 to esteem heretical, could afford a calm and 
 placid support in the hour of death, had been 
 also manifested by her uncle's dying-bed. These 
 considerations rendered Signora Rivolta less 
 decidedly hostile to the supposed intentions of 
 Markham than otherwise she might have been. 
 The day appointed for Markham to pay his 
 farewell visit to his good friends, Mr. Martin- 
 dale and family, being arrived, the young gen- 
 tleman went with not quite so heavy a heart 
 as he had expected. He felt himself perfectly 
 composed, and began to fancy that his attach- 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 299 
 
 ment to Clara was not so decided and powerful 
 as to render it at all necessary to use any 
 peculiar caution in his tones or language of 
 leave-taking. He even smiled at the idea, 
 that though it was the gloomy month of No- 
 vember, proverbial for its power of depressing 
 the spirits, he was yet in a tolerably cheerful 
 and composed state of mind. 
 
 Mr. Martindale had removed from the hotel 
 in which he resided for the first week of his 
 stay in town, and had established his daughter 
 and family in a ready-furnished house. Mark- 
 ham was not beyond the time appointed for his 
 visit, but rather before it. He was shown into 
 the drawing-room, which at his entrance was 
 empty. He was glad of that ; for it gave him 
 time to prepare himself, to study looks and 
 speeches. There is more ostensible than real 
 advantage in a circumstance of this nature. 
 Empty rooms, especially such as are usually 
 occupied by very interesting persons, always 
 make one shiver, let the weather in summer be 
 ever so warm, or the fires in winter ever so 
 good. The most confident and self-satisfied 
 
SOd RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 derive no benefit from such opportunity of pre- 
 paration. So Markham presently found, though 
 we do not say that he was a very confident man. 
 He experienced after the first minute or two 
 an indefinable sensation, as though the very air 
 of the room was not in the best and fittest state 
 for respiration. He had no power to sit still, 
 and but little to walk about the apartment. 
 The house, being a ready-furnished house, was 
 not replete with much that v.^as ornamental. 
 There were some few pictures, but of such 
 very inferior value, that no one who had any 
 thing else to do or think of would trouble him- 
 self to rise from his seat to look at them. There 
 was a table in the middle of the room, on which 
 lay in disorder some books, which looked as if 
 they were made on purpose to be scattered on 
 drawing-room tables. There was also a port- 
 folio of drawings partly open, or so carelessly 
 closed, that its contents were visible and as- 
 certainable without being moved. Markham 
 looked at the drawings as they lay ; then he 
 ventured to draw them out one after another : 
 thev were the same that he had seen before 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 301 
 
 repeatedly, and he thought that he should see 
 them no more. Then his spirits began to sink and 
 his cheerfulness abated, and he felt very Novem- 
 ber-like. Arranging the drawings as nearly as 
 possible in the same disorder as he had found 
 them, he perceived under the portfolio an open 
 atlas. The map of that country which was 
 destined to be his residence for some few years 
 to come lay open before him. He was looking 
 at it with the pleasing thought that some of his 
 friends had been thinking of him, when the 
 drawing-room door opened, and Clara entered 
 alone. 
 
 It is very provoking after taking an infinity 
 of trouble to prepare for a meeting, and after 
 composing the countenance, and arranging the 
 very words and tone of greeting and salutation, 
 to be suddenly taken by surprise, just at that 
 very moment when all this composure has been 
 disarranged and unsettled. So was Markham 
 taken. He very abruptly and awkwardly drew 
 from his pocket the book which he had bor- 
 rowed from the young lady, and was commenc- 
 ing a set speech, being about to say that he 
 
302 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 must soon leave his native land and change the 
 aspect of his being, when Mr. Martindale most 
 unfortunately entered the room and abruptly 
 dispersed his eloquence. The book was laid 
 upon the table ; Markham muttered polite ac- 
 knowledgments for the use of it ; and Mr. 
 Martindale very unceremoniously hurried the 
 young lady out of the room, urging her to 
 make all possible haste to dress for dinner. 
 Now it was very clear that there could be no 
 farther opportunity for Markham to see Clara 
 alone, or to ascertain the state of her feelings 
 towards him ; and had there been any sincerity 
 in the many wise and prudent remarks he had 
 made to himself on that subject, he would not 
 have been sorry for the interruption, but would 
 have consoled himself with the reflection that 
 there had been a happy avoidance of that which 
 might have produced a painful and perplexing 
 explanation. The plain truth however was, that 
 notwithstanding all his considerate thoughts, he 
 was so far in love, that he would have been 
 most happy in the assurance that the feeling 
 was mutual, and that he might, when away from 
 
HANK AND TALENT. 
 
 England, live cheerfully on the bright hopes of 
 the happiness awaiting his return. Being dis- 
 appointed in his expectations of approaching an 
 explanation, and feeling the manifest impro- 
 priety and indelicacy of making a regular and 
 formal proposal on the very eve of his depar- 
 ture, he felt almost angry ; he was decidedly 
 low-spirited and out of humour. 
 
 At dinner the conversation turned almost 
 solely on Markham's departure. Mr. Martin- 
 dale congratulated him on his peculiar good 
 fortune in meeting with such valuable patron- 
 age, and expressed very cordially his confi- 
 dent hopes that so auspicious a commencement 
 would be followed by corresponding success 
 through life. The old gentleman then admi- 
 nistered a very copious supply of most valuable 
 advice, to all of which Markham listened with 
 very respectful attention. The old gentleman 
 had indeed all the talk to himself. Colonel 
 Hivolta was a very brave man and a very good 
 patriot, but ordinarily he was not much ad- 
 dicted to talking. Signora Rivolta could talk 
 if she would, and could be silent if she would. 
 
304 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 This seems no great praise, but it is a compli- 
 ment which cannot fairly be paid to great mul- 
 titudes of either sex. Many are the simpletons 
 that have not wit enough to talk, or not wisdom 
 enough to hold their peace. The mother of 
 Clara had reason to suppose it not improbable 
 that Horatio Markham might one day make an 
 offer of his hand to her daughter, and under this 
 impression was especially desirous to under- 
 stand and rightly apprehend the young man's 
 character ; she was also desirous of knowing 
 what Mr. Martindale also thought of him ; and 
 by paying attention to the topics on which the 
 old gentleman thought it necessary to dwell in 
 giving advice, inferences might be drawn as to 
 the opinion which he entertained of the young 
 man's moral and intellectual character. That 
 Clara was silent is not to be wondered at. 
 Young people should always be silent when old 
 people are giving advice. For supposing that 
 the young people like good advice, they can 
 the better hear it if they be silent; and sup- 
 posing that the} do not like it, it will be the 
 sooner over if they do not interrupt it. 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 305 
 
 It requires not a very lively imagination to 
 picture to itself how much and how deeply 
 Markham was disappointed at being compelled 
 to undergo at his farewell visit a long story of 
 good advice, instead of enjoying the luxury of 
 a pathetic parting. And as if from the pure 
 desire to prevent any display of the pathetic, 
 the old gentleman, soon after the ladies had 
 retired from the dining-room, desired to have 
 coffee sent in ; and when it arrived, he most 
 provokingly said to the young gentleman : 
 
 " Now, young man, it is growing late, and 
 so I will not detain you. You must be stirring 
 early to-morrow morning. I will make your 
 apology to the ladies. I shall be very happy to 
 hear from you, when you arrive at your station ; 
 and if I live till you come back, I shall be glad 
 to see you." 
 
 There was in Mr. Martindale's manner of 
 speaking an indescribable kind of positiveness 
 and decision, which prevented all reply or con- 
 tradiction. Poor Horatio was under an abso- 
 lute necessity of complying, and after delaying 
 as long as he decently could, he rose to take 
 
306 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 his leave, and to make a long speech in good set 
 terms, thanking his kind friend for the notice 
 which he had taken of a young and obscure 
 stranger. But the old gentleman did not like 
 long speeches that were not made by himself. 
 Nature designs the aged to be talkers, not 
 listeners ; as the faculty of hearing perishes 
 before that of speaking. Markham was com- 
 pelled to condense his farewell acknowledg- 
 ments into very few words : there was certainly 
 great sincerity in his repetition of the great 
 regret which he felt in leaving such agreeable 
 friends. Dismal is a November night in Lon- 
 don ; and especially dismal was it to Markham 
 to walk through a drizzling rain, by the mockery 
 of lamp-light, all the way from Piccadilly to the 
 Inner Temple, and there to find his little lug- 
 gage all carefully packed up ready to start ; 
 and to find a gloomy looking fire that seemed 
 to grudge the little warmth and cheerfulness 
 that it communicated to the apartment, and to 
 see his book-cases empty, and to see two candles 
 dimly burning on the table ; but to see no human 
 face, no look of home, of family, of friends. 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 307 
 
 True, he was a successful man, was in the road 
 to preferment, had made himself many and 
 good friends, but he was very dull, very low- 
 spirited. He had been grievously disappointed, 
 nay, worse than disappointed ; for had he found 
 an opportunity to speak or even look a thought 
 of love to Clara, and had it been met by the 
 coldness of distaste, he would have had then 
 only to divert his thoughts, and to fill his mind 
 with other subjects. He then would have 
 known what it was that he had to trust to. But 
 now, poor man, all was uncertainty, perplexity, 
 and suspense. He knew not whether Clara 
 was totally indifferent or not, and he had no 
 means left to ascertain the fact. It was clearly 
 his own fault that he had not sooner made up 
 his own mind, and ascertained his own feelings ; 
 for that he reproached himself, but his re- 
 proaches availed nothing. 
 
 Still farther meditating on the perplexing 
 affair, he came to the unpleasant conclusion, 
 that, if there had been on the part of Clara any 
 feeling of regard and attachment towards him, 
 she must now necessarily conclude that he had 
 
308 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 no especial regard for her, or he would not 
 have left England without declaring himself, or 
 at least without giving some intimation of the 
 state of his mind. But no sooner had he ar- 
 rived at this conclusion, which ought at once to 
 have put him out of suspense, than he flew back 
 from it again ; and instead of sorrowing only 
 for himself, he began to feel great compassion 
 for Clara, on tho gratuitous supposition that 
 iier heart was partly if not entirely lost to him, 
 and lost in vain ; and, thereupon, he reproached 
 himself for having behaved unkindly towards 
 her. 
 
 Thus ingeniously did the young gentleman 
 torment himself till past midnight, till his fire 
 was extinct for want of stirring, and his candles 
 were like torches for want of snuffing. Cold 
 and cheerless he retired to rest, and there re- 
 mains on record no memorial of his dreams. 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 309 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 *' And if thou ever happen that same way 
 To traveill, go to see that dreadful place." 
 
 Spenser. 
 
 The following day dawned brighter. Though 
 it was November, the sun had strength to 
 struggle through the clouds ; and much of the 
 heavy weight that lay on Markham's mind the 
 preceding day was alleviated by brighter hopes 
 and better thoughts. There was a pleasant 
 re-action in his spirits, and he wondered how 
 it was that he had been so depressed on the 
 
310 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 previous evening. He was cheerful and light- 
 hearted in giving his orders concerning the 
 removal of his luggage, and when he went 
 aboard the vessel which was destined to convey 
 him from England, he met with so flattering 
 and complimentary a reception from the captain, 
 that all the world seemed bright about him, and 
 he trusted that he should not lack friends in a 
 distant land. His thoughts rushed impetuously 
 forward to the new scene which was about to 
 open upon him, and he was pleased to think 
 how many valuable introductory letters he pos- 
 sessed, and he hoped that acquaintances would, 
 many of them, become valuable friends and 
 agreeable companions. But we have no in- 
 tention of accompanying our young friend on 
 his voyage. Suffice it to say, that he sailed in 
 good spirits, that the wind blew variously as it 
 often does on a long voyage, and that he reached 
 his port in safety. 
 
 We must return now to old Mr. Martindale 
 a]id his family. His attachment to his family 
 was continually increasing. He was more than 
 pleased with his daughter, he was absolutely 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 311 
 
 proud of her. He always spoke of her empha- 
 tically as my daughter. He consulted her 
 wishes in every thing, and was always guided 
 by her opinion, the least intimation of which 
 was law to him. With all his oddities, and he 
 had not a few, he had discernment enough to 
 see that Signora Rivolta was really a person of 
 solid understanding and of clear judgment. 
 He only wondered how it was that a woman 
 of such good sense should adopt the Roman 
 Catholic religion ; but on this subject he seldom 
 touched, for he found that he could make no 
 impression. With the Colonel, however, he 
 would occasionally enter into an argument, 
 and not unfrequently did he fancy that in these 
 discussions he had the advantage. Colonel 
 Rivolta was not a very zealous believer in the 
 infallibility of His Holiness. He had never 
 paid much attention to theology as a matter of 
 argument or reflection ; he did not know enough 
 of his native religion to be converted to any 
 other, though the side which he had taken in 
 politics rendered him not very bigoted to the 
 religion established in Italy. In religion he 
 
312 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 was a liberal, not a sceptic or an unbeliever; 
 he had no doubts, for he scarcely ever thought 
 of the subject. He had no wish to make con- 
 verts, he was willing to let every one enjoy his 
 own opinions ; and he would never have taken 
 the trouble to defend the Catholic religion 
 against Mr. Martindale, but that he thought the 
 old gentleman was fond of an argument, and he 
 liked to indulge him. As for the religion of 
 Clara, which is of the most importance to our 
 purpose, it is rather difficult to define or de- 
 scribe it. Her education had been miscella- 
 neous ; she had been in early life initiated into 
 the religion of Italy, but in after-years the con- 
 versation of Richard Smith, her great uncle, had 
 somewhat disturbed and unsettled her mind as 
 to the exclusive safety of the Catholic religion. 
 Her strongest ground of attachment to that 
 faith was, that it was the religion of her mother. 
 There was, however, in her mind that degree of 
 imaginativeness, that needed not so much ex- 
 ternal and visible aid to devotion as that reli- 
 gion presented her with, therefore she did not 
 feel herself dependent on its forms. Truth 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 313 
 
 compels us to add, which we do with a con- 
 siderable degree of reluctance, that Clara R,i- 
 volta, during her residence at Brigland, had 
 more than once said to her great uncle, that her 
 principal objection to the Protestant religion 
 was the indifference of its priests. This remark 
 had reference, we ought to say, almost solely to 
 Mr. Denver, the perpetual curate of Brigland ; 
 and every allowance ought to be made for him. 
 It is no easy matter to serve three churches 
 with a very lively and ardent feeling, especially 
 when to the fatigue of the duty there is also 
 added the toil of riding several miles on a tall, 
 old, raw-boned, shuffling, stumbling, jumbling, 
 broken- winded, and ill-saddled, iron-grey mare. 
 Clara had never seen any other clergyman, ex- 
 cept one or two who had occasionally been 
 visiting the Hon. Philip Martindale during 
 the shooting season. Of these gentlemen she 
 knew nothing, except that whenever they met 
 her, they stared very rudely at her. She formed 
 her judgment of the English clergy from a very 
 few and very so-so samples. Blending a re- 
 spectable share of discrimination and reflection 
 
 VOL. I. O 
 
314 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 with an imaginative soul and a feeling heart, 
 her religion was in the most comprehensive 
 sense of the word purely Catholic. Outwardly 
 her conformity was to the religion of her birth- 
 place; and perhaps had she never been ac- 
 quainted with any other mode, her devotion to 
 that in which she had been educated would have 
 been much stronger. But when she was in- 
 structed that religion was the medium by which 
 virtue was impressed on the mind, and man 
 made acceptable to his Maker, and when she 
 was told that there was no salvation out of the 
 pale of the Roman Catholic Church, and when 
 she saw what real excellences and what solid vir- 
 tues adorned the character of her maternal great 
 uncle, then she thought it absolutely impossible 
 that the religion of such a man could be other- 
 wise than acceptable to his Maker ; and there- 
 upon, without the elaborateness of argument or 
 the undetectable wiliness of sophistry, there 
 entered irresistibly into her mind a spirit of li- 
 berality and pure Catholicism. 
 
 It may then be easily supposed that Mr. Mar- 
 tindale was not much disturbed or annoyed by 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 315 
 
 the difference between his own faith and that 
 of his family. Whatever disturbance the sub- 
 ject gave him was entirely of his own making* 
 and arose purely from his own fidgetty dis- 
 position. Such however was the very high 
 estimation in which he held his daughter, that 
 notwithstanding his zeal for Protestantism, he 
 would occasionally attend the worship of her 
 church, and occasionally the compliment was 
 returned. This compliance on the part of the 
 old gentleman, together with the satisfaction 
 that he expressed at the occasional conformity 
 of his newly-found family, gave pretty strong 
 indication to Philip Martindale that his wealthy 
 cousin destined a larger share of his fortune for 
 Signora Rivolta than ordinarily falls to the lot 
 of a natural daughter. His difficulties and 
 perplexities therefore increased, and his choice 
 vibrated with great rapidity between Clara 
 Rivolta and Celestina Sampson. He exercised 
 much caution and deliberation in considerations 
 of various eligibilities and ineligibilities. Had 
 he used as much thought before he gave his ho- 
 norable countenance to the ring, the course, and 
 
316 UA^K AND TALENT. 
 
 the cock-pit, before he laid bets on rat-catchers' 
 dogs, and borrowed money of the Jews to pay 
 those bets withal, he would not have needed 
 now to have recourse to the meanness of at- 
 tempting a heartless marriage to mend his 
 broken fortunes. Sadly and seriously did he 
 lay to heart his past follies; and he grieved 
 the more because he grieved in vain. He 
 knew very well that there was no remedy for 
 the past, and that it would require some in- 
 genuity to prevent affairs from becoming worse. 
 He grew quite dejected, and even demure ; 
 and he occasionally would lecture some of 
 his honorable and right honorable friends on 
 the folly and absurdity of gaming. But his 
 repentance, though he was not aware of the 
 fact, consisted rather of uneasiness under the 
 consequences of transgression, than of any feel- 
 ing of regret for the transgression as con- 
 sidered in itself. 
 
 There was in his mind also another thought 
 which was very natural under present circum- 
 stances, and that was, that it would be desir- 
 able that he should leave the Abbey, and thank- 
 
EANK AND TALKNT. 317 
 
 fully resign it to his worthy relative, who on 
 the unexpected discovery of a new family might 
 be willing to increase his establishment, though 
 he might feel some little delicacy and hesita- 
 tion about the removal of his relative. With 
 this idea Philip went again to London, where 
 the old gentleman continued to reside with his 
 family ; for by taking this step, the young gen- 
 tleman hoped that he should be able to ascer- 
 tain what were the intentions of his relative 
 towards him. 
 
 Philip was very cordially received by Mr. 
 John Martindale, who did not interrogate him 
 as usual on the object of his visit to London. 
 This omission was a symptom of indifference ; 
 but a still stronger symptom was manifested 
 when Philip announced to his relative the busi- 
 ness on which he had come to town. As soon 
 as he had done speaking, the old gentleman in 
 his usual abrupt manner replied: *' Well, do 
 as you like. I think a smaller house may be 
 better for you. But as for my going to reside 
 there, I should not think of such a thing. I 
 
318 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 shall sell the Abbey, if I can have a price for 
 it." 
 
 *' Sell it, sir!" replied Philip in the utmost 
 astonishment ; " you surely are not serious." 
 
 " But I am decidedly serious," said the old 
 gentleman ; ** I have had the amusement of 
 building the house, and so far it has answered 
 my purpose. It is of no farther use to me* 
 Will you buy it r 
 
 Philip smiled at the question ; but the smile 
 cost him a great effort. He saw that he was 
 destined to be the sport of circumstances, and 
 he inwardly groaned at his very unfortunate lot; 
 that the line which he had pursued in hopes of 
 coming into possession of a valuable inheritance, 
 had brought him into painful and mortifying 
 perplexities. He thought within himself how 
 foolish he should look at being compelled to 
 leave his splendid mansion ; but he had never 
 thought before how much more foolish he 
 looked, when he was only nominal master of a 
 mansion which was far too large for him, and 
 too magnificent for his actual or possible means. 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 319 
 
 It was, indeed, by the more knowing ones 
 shrewdly suspected that Mr. John Martindale 
 had, in building so splendid a concern, seriously 
 transgressed the limits of prudence, and that he 
 had not the ability, supposing him to have the 
 inclination, suitably and consistently to occupy 
 so large and splendid a building. There had 
 need be very great pleasure in building, for 
 there are often very great pains and mortifica- 
 tions resulting from efforts at architectural mag- 
 nificence. Blessings, however, rest on the heads 
 of those ingenious architects who let us have 
 splendour so cheap, and who convert plaister into 
 stone, and splinters into timber ! 
 
 To return to our subject. The old gentleman 
 seriously and coolly persisted in his determina^ 
 tion to sell the house, and as coolly did he ac- 
 cept Philip's resignation of his possession. Mr. 
 Martindale the elder merely said : 
 
 " But where do you intend to reside? At 
 home with his lordship ? Or, suppose you look 
 out for a place in the country. What say you 
 to living among your constituents 1 There is a 
 very good house at Trimmerstone ; it ha'S not 
 
320 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 been occupied lately, but the last who resided 
 there was a man of rank. If you like to reside 
 there, I will put it in order for you. But it is 
 high time you should think of marrying." 
 
 The house at Trimmerstone had indeed been 
 occupied by a man of rank, or, more properly 
 speaking, by the housekeeper and a few old ser- 
 vants of a man of rank. Many summers had 
 passed over its roof, and many storms had 
 spent their fury on its weather-beaten sides, 
 since any thing had been done to it in the way 
 of repair. At the time that Mr. Martindale 
 was speaking of it as a suitable residence for 
 his honorable cousin, it was almost in a state 
 of dilapidation. Philip had seen the house, and 
 had some recollection of it; and our readers 
 may easily judge of the young gentleman's 
 state of mind when the proposal was made to 
 settle him there, and to exchange a splendid 
 modern mansion for an out-of-the-way, ill-con- 
 trived, lumbering old mansion-house. 
 
 Trimmerstone Hall was a long and almost 
 indescribable building, which seemed as if it 
 had stood till it half sunk into the earth. It 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 321 
 
 was approached by a long, superannuated, 
 everlasting" avenue of trees, which had stood 
 growing, no mortal could tell how long. There 
 was such a density of foliage, that the middle 
 part of the building was almost in total dark- 
 ness ; and whether the path between the trees 
 was gravel, grass, or withered vegetation, it 
 was not easy to ascertain. Two broad, dis- 
 located stone steps sinking downwards between 
 two stunted black brick walls, and surmounted by 
 a grotesque wooden portico, admitted those who 
 could stoop low enough to avoid hitting their 
 heads, into a wide, broad, cold hall paved with 
 marble, which nature had made black and 
 white, but which time and other accidents had 
 converted into brown and yellow. Immediately 
 opposite to the front door, and not many yards 
 from it, opened the back door, which in archi- 
 tectural beauty and convenience of arrange- 
 ment was a fac-simile of its opposite neighbour. 
 There were windows also in the entrance-hall, 
 one on each side the two doors ; and the win- 
 dows were constructed upon that ingenious 
 principle which admits any thing but light. On 
 
822 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 one side of this hall was a mighty fire-place, 
 which looked as if it had never had a fire in it ; 
 and on the other was a broad staircase, with 
 banisters strong enough to build a dozen 
 Regent Street houses withal. There were 
 rooms of divers dimensions and various degrees 
 of deformity. To describe their arrangement is 
 impossible, inasmuch as they had no arrangement. 
 
 The state-apartments were hung with 
 damask or with tapestry. Time had played 
 sad tricks with these decorations, as it had also 
 with the old oak floors, which had lost their 
 shape and colour. No foiir-legged article of 
 furniture could by any arguments be induced to 
 stand steady on its legitimate supporters ; and 
 if a four-post bedstead had been placed on the 
 higher side of a room, it must inevitably have 
 rolled on its castors to the, opposite side. The 
 windows throughout the mansion were villain- 
 ous ; and the whole building seemed fit for 
 nothing but to make a pencil-drawing, or an 
 etching from it. 
 
 Though the great mass of the house appeared 
 to have sunk into the ground, the fine old 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 323 
 
 chimneys looked as if they had grown taller, or 
 left the house to sink without them. They 
 almost rivalled in altitude the old trees of the 
 avenue. They were visible from a great dis- 
 tance, but the house was not, for it stood in a 
 hollow ; and the ground about was finely 
 watered by divers rivulets, which did not 
 seem at all particular as to the course they 
 took, but with a noble and liberal impartiality 
 spontaneously or promiscuously irrigated, that 
 is to say, sopped the meadows, grounds, and 
 gardens, which surrounded the house. 
 
 Such was the habitation which the wealthy 
 cousin of the Hon. Philip Martindale proposed 
 for the residence of a young gentleman born to 
 be legislator, and proud of the antiquity of his 
 family and the dignity of his high rank. Philip 
 knew the house, and what is more, he knevr 
 that his cousin knew it. 
 
 It was a keen and bitter mortification to have 
 such a proposal made; but though he fully de- 
 termined not to stoop so low as to accept it, 
 he was too dependent to reject it point-blank. 
 He merely said : — 
 
324 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 ** I am inclined to think, sir, from what I 
 recollect of Trimmerstone Hall, that it will re- 
 quire more to put it into good repair than the 
 present building is worth ; and the situation 
 being so very low and swampy, I am afraid that 
 I should not enjoy my health there. But, sir, 
 there is no absolute necessity for my having a 
 distinct residence at present, while I remain 
 single. I can reside with my. family; and as I 
 think of paying a closer attention to my parlia- 
 mentary duties, I shall of course spend more of 
 my time in London." 
 
 " Ay, ay, so you will; right, I forgot that. 
 Yes, yes, you ought clearly to be more atten- 
 tive to your parliamentary duties. Well, I am 
 not sorry you think of leaving the Abbey. I 
 shall certainly dispose of it. It was very amus- 
 ing to build the house ; and so the proverb will 
 be verified— Fools build houses, and wise men 
 live in them." 
 
 When a man calls himself a fool in the hear- 
 ing of another, that other is in duty bound to 
 contradict him : for it is not in the nature of 
 things that any man really thinking himself a 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 325 
 
 fool should avow that conviction. To speak 
 paradoxically, if a man sincerely avows himself 
 a fool, he thinks himself a wise man in having 
 found out that he is a fool, and requires a 
 compliment as a matter of course. It is the 
 expected duty of every one therefore, hearing 
 another call himself a fool, to contradict him. 
 To do that well is difficult, and requires great 
 address. It must not be contradicted point- 
 blank and flatly, but it must be circuitously 
 done. Every man who calls himself a fool is 
 offended if he fancies that he is believed, is 
 oflfended if he be not contradicted, and is also 
 offended if he be contradicted, so as to give 
 proof that he is suspected of expecting contra- 
 diction. 
 
 Now, though Philip Martindale was a gen- 
 tleman of very fashionable manners, and per- 
 fectly informed and well instructed as to all the 
 forms and modes of fashionable address, yet his 
 knowledge was simply that of forms and modes ; 
 he had no natural intuition ; no native and 
 imbought perception of abstract propriety and 
 unchangeable good manners. Of mind and its 
 VOL. I. P 
 
S26 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 movements he was totally ignorant ; he knew 
 what was fashionable as well as any man ; even 
 at the cockpit or the ring, though dressed like 
 a groom, he was known to be a gentleman. 
 Thus it is that those who belong to a certain 
 class are always known and recognised by their 
 inimitable and untranscribable manners, having 
 only to do with externals, they are perfect in 
 them. The less intellect they have, the more 
 skilful are they in the art ; even as parrots 
 most faithfully utter the words which they are 
 taught, because reflection supplies them with 
 none other. But such parrot-like politeness 
 would not answer with such a man as old John 
 Martindale. Any thing common-place was his 
 aversion and abomination. It required pecu- 
 liar tact and skill to manage him ; and this skill 
 the Hon. Philip Martindale did not possess in 
 a very eminent degree. When therefore the 
 young gentleman began to mutter forth some 
 affected contradiction to what Mr. John Mar- 
 tindale had been pleased to say of himself, the 
 latter hastily interrupted him. 
 
 * ' Pish, nonsense ; none of your foolish com- 
 
RANK AND TALENT. 327 
 
 plimentiog. I was a fool to build the house, 
 and I should be a greater fool to live in it. 
 I shall find some simpleton with more money 
 than wit, who may be glad to buy it at half the 
 money which it cost me to build it. Well, 
 now you are in town, you may as well stay 
 with us, if you are not too proud to patronise 
 my relations. You will find them very sensible, 
 well-informed people, though they have no 
 title." 
 
 To this invitation Philip felt no repugnance, 
 and consequently made no objection : for he 
 was very desirous of seeing more of Clara 
 Rivolta, and of ingratiating himself into her 
 favour, should such a measure be found neces- 
 sary or desirable in a financial point of view. 
 As the London winter was now approaching, 
 he also hoped that he should have an opportu- 
 nity of observing how Mr. Martindale's rela- 
 tives would be received in the world, deter- 
 mining to be chiefly governed as to his decision 
 respecting Clara by the manner in which her 
 family should be noticed. He had sense 
 enough to see that Signora Rivolta was a 
 
328 RANK AND TALENT. 
 
 superior woman in mind and manners ; but he 
 was doubtful whether the rank of his cousin 
 was high enough, or wealth extensive enough, 
 to command respect for a natural daughter. 
 There is a jealousy of superior minds ; and 
 artificial nobility feels indignant at being 
 eclipsed by natural nobility. As for Clara, 
 her mild and gentle spirit would create for her 
 affection and patronage every where. The 
 sweetness of her temper, the unobtrusive sound- 
 ness of her judgment, her strong natural sense 
 of propriety, would command universal regard ; 
 but there was also to be considered the recep- 
 tion with which the mother might meet : for 
 the mother and the daughter were clearly 
 inseparable. The one would receive no smiles 
 or courtesy which should be denied to or with- 
 held from the other. A severe trial now 
 awaited the half-cap tived heart of Clara 
 Rivolta. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 LONDON : 
 
 PRINTED BY A. J, VALPY, RED LION COURT, TLEET STREET. 
 
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