"All promise is poor dilatory man,
And that thro' ev'ry age."
YOUNG.
The sudden and painful event recorded at the close of the last
chapter, presented a momentary interruption to the negotiations
with Mr. Martindale on the subject of the living of Trimmerstone.
The Dowager Lady Martindale would not use any importunities on the
business; and as for the young man himself for whom the living was
supposed to be destined, Mr. Robert Martindale, he was too indifferent
to the profession to have any wishes or to feel any interest about it.
Poor Mr. Henderson was not as yet aware that any such expectations
might be entertained by him. Hearing of the death of Lord Martindale,
he designed to pay a visit of condolence to his lordship's relative;
but he was too diffident to be very hasty in that visit, leaving early
calls to those who were more in the intimacy of Mr. Martindale. But
there was not quite so much consideration on the part of those who
were interested in the disposal of the living: they were prompt in
their application, and more importunate in their solicitations. Among
other visitors in the way of condolence to Mr. John Martindale was Sir
Gilbert Sampson. From the marriage of his daughter into the Martindale
family he felt some right to claim kindred with him, and we must do Mr.
John Martindale the justice to say that he did not disallow that claim.
He always had behaved with familiarity and cordiality towards the city
knight.
When Sir Gilbert Sampson was announced, he was readily admitted and
well received; and, after a few half-formed sentences and muttering
clumsinesses about the recent melancholy event, the knight proceeded
to business. It was with no small share of diplomatic pomp that the
worthy knight gravely informed Mr. Martindale of his having been that
very morning honored with a call from a certain nobleman high in office
and powerful in influence. Mr. Martindale received the information with
a cynical attempt at indifference, but he was not really and soundly
proof against the fascinations of high rank and mighty consideration.
After, therefore, a very few, and those but faint sneers, he
condescended to ask what might be the business on which this high and
mighty potentate had designed to call upon Sir Gilbert Sampson. Now Mr.
Martindale guessed the business to be about the living of Trimmerstone;
but though he did so guess, and though he was sure that he had guessed
rightly, and though he had made up his mind that nothing should induce
him to give the living otherwise than he had designed, that is, to Mr.
Henderson, yet he was not unwilling to hear what the great man had said
to Sir Gilbert. Poor Mr. Martindale was but half a cynic; he had not
quite so thorough a contempt for the world as he endeavoured to affect.
He listened very attentively, therefore, to Sir Gilbert when he related
the visit of the morning, and the conversation which he had had with
the great man.
Sir Gilbert related as well as he could the conversation, which all
turned upon the vacant living. The sum and substance of the whole
matter was this: the great man had expressed a great wish to obtain
the next presentation to Trimmerstone to oblige a very valued friend
of his own, and a stanch supporter of loyal principles. This happened
some few years ago, when loyalty was a more marketable article than it
is now; for since radical meetings have ceased to be common, loyalty
is become quite a drug, and fetches nothing. But to proceed to, or
rather with, business: the great man made such an object of obtaining
this living, that he had said, or at least intimated, or hinted, that
the Martindale family might be very much aggrandised in the way of
honor by its surrender. In short, to come directly to the point, the
message with which Sir Gilbert was charged amounted to nothing more nor
less than this, namely, that if Mr. John Martindale would comply with
the solicitation of the great man, and give to his friend or nominee
the living, then Philip, now only Lord or Baron Martindale, would be
forthwith created Viscount Martindale and Earl of Trimmerstone. There
was a temptation.
John Martindale heard all this unmoved, but he could not reflect upon
it unshaken. It was a serious matter to have an individual related so
nearly to himself advanced thus high in the peerage. It would certainly
be a fine thing to have an earl under his thumb, and so to possess as
it were a vote in the House of Lords. But then what is to become of
poor Mr. Henderson?
"Have you actually promised Mr. Henderson?" exclaimed Sir Gilbert
Sampson; "for if so, you are placed in an awkward situation; but still
I think it may be managed."
"Why, no," replied Mr. Martindale, "I have not actually promised him,
but still it was my full intention to give him the living; and it is
not many days ago since I made such inquiries of him, and used such
language to him, as nothing could justify but the intention of doing
something for him, and there is nothing else that I can do for him. I
am sure a more loyal man cannot exist than poor Henderson."
"Very likely; but then one must sometimes, for the sake of one's
own family, do things which otherwise we might not like. As for
poor Henderson, I know him well; I have often dined with him; he is
a contented, diligent sort of a man, and a very sensible man. He
taught my daughter geography; he makes a very good living by giving
instructions in private families. He might, to be sure, be glad of a
living, but still he has managed so long to do very well without; and
then people in office have so many hangers-on whom they must by some
means or other get rid of, that I do not wonder that they are rather
anxious about these matters. Now I will candidly acknowledge to you,
that though I am highly honored by my daughter's marrying into the
Martindale family and becoming at all events a peeress, yet I must
say that I should be very proud to see her a countess. I know it is a
weakness. I acknowledge it as such; but still I must say it would be
gratifying to me. And really to say the truth, Mr. Martindale, I don't
think it would be altogether displeasing to you to have your young
relative called Earl of Trimmerstone."
Whatever Mr. Martindale's notions on that subject might be, he did
not like to avow them to Sir Gilbert Sampson. He merely shook his
head, and looked as wise as Lord Burleigh in the Critic. People may,
if they please, be very witty about a man's shaking his head, and say
that there is nothing in it, but we contend that there is a great deal
in it: for nothing comes out of it on being shaken; and therefore it
retains its own counsel, which may be hereafter interpreted according
to circumstances: just as the facetious authors of the Rejected
Addresses represent Mr. Cobbett as saying, "I prophesied so, though I
never told anybody." Exactly so may the wise Burleigh-like man who on
great affairs and momentous occasions only shakes his head, afterwards
interpret that shake as may best suit his inclinations, and claim a
reputation for wisdom which might not be his had he merely uttered
his thoughts through the common-place medium of unequivocal and
interpretable words. Instead therefore of saying that when a man shakes
his head there is nothing in it, we ought more properly to say there is
any thing or every thing in it. Be this as it may, Mr. John Martindale
did shake his head when he heard the communication of Sir Gilbert
Sampson.
Now as Sir Gilbert inferred from the shaking of the head, that Mr.
Martindale was not quite so positive on the subject of the living as
when the conversation began, and before there was any mention of the
earldom, he thought it might not be undesirable to pursue the subject;
and as money was not so great an object to Sir Gilbert as honor, he
ventured to say in continuance:
"But, my good friend, are there no other means of rendering a service
to Mr. Henderson than by giving him this very living. You say you have
not promised him this very identical living, but that you have only
given him hopes of something. Now suppose you give me leave to purchase
this living of you, and you in return purchase a presentation for Mr.
Henderson, or give him the means of purchasing one for himself."
"Oh, no, no, I can't think of doing him a service in this way. He would
hardly accept of it under such circumstances; he is a man of too great
delicacy to accept of a pecuniary present."
Sir Gilbert smiled, and replied, "Indeed, sir, I think you wrong
Mr. Henderson in attributing to him such a degree of fastidiousness.
He is too courteous a man rudely to decline what a patron may offer
him. Indeed, I know that he has been much mocked by the promise of
patronage; and I should not be surprised if the pecuniary patronage
might not be most acceptable to him of any. He has a large family, and
they are arrived at an expensive age. I certainly am of opinion that
the arrangement I propose will be acceptable."
As the argument now led to prove that bestowing the living on the
nominee of the great man might lead to a considerable advantage in
favor of Mr. Henderson, old John Martindale began to relax from his
rigidity of purpose, and to be happy that he might do two useful and
beneficial acts at once. He might benefit Mr. Henderson and contribute
to the advancement of his own relative at the same time. Then he
hesitated, and said he did not know what to say about the matter. He
thought that what Sir Gilbert Sampson said had some weight in it; and
after a long harangue which meant nothing at all, he concluded by
promising to take the matter into his most serious consideration.
Very few days after this interview with Sir Gilbert Sampson, the old
gentleman received a letter from his cousin Philip, and another also
from the bride. These letters were constructed so as to be peculiarly
pleasing and flattering to Mr. Martindale; and he thought that it would
be a great pity to lose a fine opportunity of advancing the young
gentleman to the honor of an earldom. But still there remained on his
mind a strong feeling of perplexity as concerned poor Mr. Henderson.
It was not quite accordant with the old gentleman's strict notions of
honor and steadiness of purpose; but as some benefit might result from
the arrangement, it was perhaps better to benefit two parties than one
only. Thereupon the matter was presently settled, and Mr. Henderson
again disappointed of a living. This disappointment, however, the good
man bore with patience; and he was, though with great difficulty and
after long and suitable opposition, prevailed upon at last to accept
the means of procuring for himself some other living.
And now the daughter of the soap-boiler had become countess, both
father and daughter were delighted in the highest degree, nor was
Philip himself less pleased. Upon examining, however, his pecuniary
resources, the Right Hon. the Earl of Trimmerstone found that his means
were not quite adequate to his rank, or equal to his expectations: for
the property received with Celestina was rather a large than a small
proportion of the wealth of Sir Gilbert Sampson. This was mortifying;
but there was still a fine prospect to look forward to in the event
of old Mr. Martindale's decease: therefore the Earl and Countess of
Trimmerstone resolved to keep up the dignity of their rank at as little
expense as possible.
This resolution was certainly very good, but unfortunately it
proved to be good for nothing. For in a certain rank there are certain
expenses which are absolutely unavoidable; and then it might be
naturally supposed that, when Mr. Martindale had made a sacrifice for
the purpose of raising his relative's rank, he would alter the tenor
of his whimsical will. Under the influence of this consideration, and
by the power of unavoidable circumstances, it happened that the Earl
of Trimmerstone, though in possession of more ample means than were
ever enjoyed by the Hon. Philip Martindale, found himself almost as
necessitous and as embarrassed as ever. His most amiable countess loved
splendor, and therefore found it to be absolutely necessary. When,
therefore, they set up their establishment in town, though they thought
that they were using a very high degree of economy, they brought upon
themselves the imputation of extravagance, and in fact somewhat more
than the imputation. But what could they do? They must live as other
persons of the same rank. In addition to the evils of ill-managed
expenditure, there arose another very serious difficulty, or rather
trouble, to the newly-married pair. The Countess loved splendor, but
she had not been properly tutored to manage it; there she was clumsy in
display, and tasteless in decoration. She had not the power of carrying
off the absurdities of fashion with the proper grace and indifference
of right-honorable impudence. Frequently, therefore, his lordship felt
ashamed of his countess; and not unfrequently, some of his companions
and friends would amuse themselves at his expense; and he always felt
himself in jeopardy, as if about to hear the word "soap" mentioned.
The Earl of Trimmerstone not finding the Countess much of a companion,
sought elsewhere for the pleasures of society. The Countess of
Trimmerstone loved not solitude, but unhappily was by no means select
in her associates. Being resolved not to be proud, so as to neglect
her old acquaintance, her ladyship found it difficult to keep a very
choice circle of acquaintance in her new sphere. There were not wanting
persons of rank and distinction amidst her visitors and companions, but
these were not always of the best kind. In her innocence and good-humor
she knew it not, but his lordship did, and he was greatly displeased.
Then did her ladyship think that his lordship was very harsh and rigid;
and then did his lordship think that he had purchased her ladyship's
wealth at too dear a price. We were going to say, that then it was too
late to repent; no, it was not too late, we think it was very early to
repent in the first year of their married life. Be it late or early,
they certainly did repent. Celestina thought that it was not so fine a
thing to be a countess as she used to imagine. When she was single, it
appeared to her most desirable to be a lady; now she was married, she
did not think it would be much increase to her happiness to become a
duchess.