"He who knows policy and her true aspect,
Shall find her ways winding and indirect."
WEBSTER.
Markham, whose mind was in no very enviable state, did not prolong
his visit; but hastily and almost abruptly took his leave of Mr.
Martindale, when, after waiting a reasonable time, he saw no more of
Clara. The time was now arrived for Markham to go the circuit. He was
anxious lest by his absence from England he had injured his circuit
practice, and lost his provincial clients. Agreeably disappointed
was he to find that instead of that practice being injured or those
clients being lost, his practice was increased and his clients were
more numerous. Some other young barristers on the circuit were rather
angry that Markham should return again after having for a time left the
circuit; but that anger could not prevent Markham from having briefs.
In every place on the circuit he obtained something, and in some he had
as much business as often falls to the lot of older men. He had the
advantage of being familiar with law, far beyond his age and standing;
he had read much and had thought much, and his memory was good, and his
readiness in reference and quotation was surprising. It is true that in
order to acquire this he had given hard labor and study; and that for
knowledge in his profession he had sacrificed much other knowledge, and
many of those amusements in which young gentlemen in that profession
do indulge. But he knew that nothing was to be done without labor,
and that every thing was to be done by it. When he first embraced
the profession, his friends and acquaintants made the common-place
remark that the profession was overstocked; but he knew that it was
not overstocked with severe and laborious applicants, and that in that
profession, as well as in every other, there was room enough for those
who would make room for themselves. With this feeling he commenced his
studies, and with this encouragement he pursued them. And though he was
sometimes laughed at for his simplicity and for his ignorance of every
thing but his profession, he knew that in the end he should find his
turn to laugh at those who at the beginning laughed at him.
"Every man to his taste," as the proverb has it. Let those who like
to laugh and play enjoy themselves in their own way, only let them
not suppose that their indolence and levity shall reap and gather the
solid advantages and honors of laborious and serious diligence. It may
be well that in every profession there should be those who by their
negligence and listlessness make room for such as are more diligently
disposed: therefore, we should not speak or think contemptuously of
those who are not what are called an honor to their profession. They
make way and room for others. Life is not quite so much of a lottery as
the indolent and unsuccessful think it to be. It is not to be doubted
that there are indeed some instances where real application and serious
diligence have been unsuccessful. It is sad that there are any such,
but there are not so many as is usually supposed.
Markham, we have said, went the circuit, and soon discovered that
his temporary absence had not lost him much or any thing. Briefs flowed
in upon him in abundance, and one of them was to a young gentleman in
his circumstances somewhat curious. It was an action for breach of
promise of marriage. Markham always read his briefs attentively, and
endeavoured not only to put himself in possession of the facts there
stated, but attempted also to understand the real merits of the case;
that is to say, he made himself a judge as far as he could from an
ex-parte statement, in order that he might thereby be the better able
to anticipate his adversary's arguments. He saw very plainly in the
case now submitted to him, that this was one of those not uncommon
instances, in which a young gentleman of more passion than judgment
forms a hasty engagement, and soon finds occasion to repent of his
precipitation; where the attachment of the lady increases in proportion
as that of the gentleman decreases. Instead, therefore, of meditating
and spouting a very fine flowery harangue, which might tend rather
to set off the barrister than to aid the cause which he professed to
advocate, he thought it best to leave the jury to find out by the force
of their own judgment, that to make a promise of this nature and not
to fulfil it was altogether improper, and worthy of reprehension and
punishment. An action being brought implied an injury; and therefore he
did not think it necessary to dwell very prosingly and eloquently on
that topic; but rather, he thought it best to anticipate the defence,
and neutralise that as much as lay in his power. This he did most
effectually; and with an air of the greatest candor and readiness
to make every concession and allowance, he succeeded in making the
jury believe and feel that the case was abominable. This proceeding
crippled the defence, inasmuch as there was in Markham's statement and
address none of that tawdry nonsense called pathos and sublimity, but a
straightforward, or at least an apparently straightforward, statement
of a very common case, in which he did not seem to be making more of
the subject than it required or would well bear. The consequence,
partly we may suppose of the justice of the cause, and partly of the
dexterous manner in which Markham managed it, was, that he had a
verdict with as much damages as were claimed. This was a great triumph
of plain common sense: for Markham did not by foolishly attempting to
make too much of the business overdo and destroy it. His speech which
was rather long, and which in its delivery was very clear and distinct,
and in its sentences and construction lucid and intelligible, so much
pleased and attracted the reporters who were present, that they gave it
in the papers at very great length, and especially as trials of this
nature are generally highly interesting to the public.
The country trials are read in London. Few young ladies pass over a
trial for breach of promise of marriage, without attentively studying
the arguments of the case, and delightedly dwelling upon the eloquence
and pathos in which the agonies of a broken heart are described and
painted to an attentive jury of honest though obtuse agriculturists.
Some young ladies were disappointed at Markham's speech, for they had
heard that he was a clever man, and they were astonished not to find
any more sublimity or sentimentality in his speeches at trials. These
young ladies take it as a settled matter, that all clever men who
make speeches must by virtue of their cleverness be very flowery and
sentimental and figurative in their language. Markham knew better. The
jury which he addressed was not composed of tender-hearted, susceptible
young gentlemen, overdone with poetry and romance, but of twelve
blunt, honest, hard-handed, close-fisted, cool-hearted, dry-souled,
middle-aged farmers, who scarcely knew what was meant by a broken
heart. It would have been nonsense then to have addressed to them a
trumpery fine spoutification, such as young apprentices and journeymen
apothecaries administer to one another at their sixpenny debating-clubs
and public-house wisdom-shops. Markham spoke to what he knew to be the
purpose. A young lady brought an action against a young gentleman for
breach of promise of marriage; the first question which the jury would
wish to have answered was, is it true that such promise was given and
broken? They did not want to hear a school-boy theme on the subject;
and if they had heard one, and if they had heard Markham labor very
hard to prove the young gentleman one of the most hard-hearted, wicked,
abominable creatures that ever lived, and to set forth the young lady
as the most cruelly afflicted and tormented of all the broken-hearted
daughters of Eve, they might have stared with astonishment at Markham's
very wonderful display, but they would not have understood one-half
of his fine words, and would not have believed one-half of his fine
story. But when it was proved as stated, that there actually had been
a breach of promise, then the next question was, may there not be some
excuse found for the young gentleman? Markham took up this part of the
business, and after conceding all that could be claimed, proved or
well argued that the extenuations to be set up were not sufficient: he
showed the jury there could be no valid excuse; and therefore, when the
defendant's counsel came to make and furnish out the excuses, he found
that he had been so anticipated as to be much hampered in the defence:
and it answered well. An eloquent man would have spoiled the cause by
exaggeration and bombast: therefore, though the young ladies did not
think Markham's speech the production of a clever man when they first
read it, yet afterwards they were convinced that he was right; and they
were very much pleased with those pure and generous principles which he
unostentatiously and calmly avowed. They all thought that Mr. Markham
must be so very pure in his principles, and so very chivalric, as he
expressed such strict notions of the principles of honor as applicable
to promises of such a sacred nature as promises of marriage: for in
the course of his speech he had said, "You will find that a promise of
marriage has in this case actually been made formally, explicitly, and
decidedly. There was not an implied intention, but an actual promise.
Some men there are, to their shame be it spoken, who by constant
attentions and assiduities, without making any promises, gain the
affections and excite the hopes of those whom they desert at last with
legal impunity, but not without bitter self-reproach."
The young ladies in general admired Mr. Markham for this
expression, and they thought that he deserved their best thanks for
thus reprehending and exposing such wanton and cruel wickedness. Miss
Henderson was among the foremost to admire this sentiment. More than
once or twice did she take up her pen to write Markham a letter of
compliment and congratulation; to compliment him on his virtue, and to
congratulate him on his success. But she had her fears and distrusts.
She really did condescend to think that peradventure there might be
some little impropriety, or some appearance of forwardness, if she
should be the first to commence a correspondence; and yet she did very
much wish for an opportunity of expressing to Markham her high sense
of his professional talents, and her admiration of the moral beauty
of his mind. What a pity it is that custom has so ordered it, that
the lady must always wait till the gentleman takes it into his head
to propose the question! it is very arbitrary. Perhaps many a worthy,
modest, diffident gentleman, who would willingly, if he dared be so
presumptuous, offer his hand to some beautiful, intelligent, amiable
one of the other sex, is by this social, or rather unsocial regulation,
doomed to live single, or to give his hand at last to some less worthy
object. This, for aught Miss Henderson knew to the contrary, might
be poor Markham's case. The young lady was aware that Markham was of
humble origin, and to that she partly attributed his diffidence. She
also thought that very likely he was waiting till by his professional
exertions he had acquired a competency to live in a certain style.
She was quite charmed with the beauty of his sentiments, and the
sublimity of his mind; and whenever his name was mentioned, she was
copious and fluent in his praise. It was the subject of her constant
thoughts, and the theme of her frequent talk. So that most persons of
her acquaintance thought that if there was not an absolute engagement,
there was at least an implied understanding between them; and whenever,
by her young friends, any sportive insinuations to that purpose were
thrown out, she did not contradict them or set them right. Herein the
young lady was obviously and decidedly wrong, and laid the foundation
of some after perplexity, embarrassment, and mortification. It was
wrong, very wrong indeed, and it was scarcely honest, inasmuch as she
thought to make doubly sure of him, by suffering every one to take it
for granted that there subsisted an engagement between them. But as
honesty is the best policy, and as all deviations from that strict line
are attended more or less with some inconvenience and disadvantage,
Miss Henderson found that her object was far from being attained
by this contrivance: for as she suffered this implied or supposed
engagement to become common-talk among her friends, the rumor went
farther, and reached the ears of Markham himself.
Great, unspeakably great, was his astonishment, when on his return from
the circuit, and just as he was seated in his chambers and meditating
on the sorrow which had afflicted him at parting from Clara, and
thinking also of the sad change there now seemed to be in his prospects
as they regarded her, great was his astonishment to see Mr. Martindale
enter the apartment, and to hear him, before he had well uttered the
ordinary salutation, exclaim,
"So my grave counsellor, I find you have lost your heart. A very
pretty story; why you never condescended to honor me with the
information. I suppose you thought I could not keep a secret. Well,
well, you did wisely to keep your own counsel so long. If people can't
keep their own secrets, nobody is likely to keep them for them. But
methinks, young gentleman, you were rather in a hurry. You will not
stand any great chance for making your fortune by the match; but that
is your own concern. Nobody has any business with that but yourself.
If you go on as you have begun, you will make a fortune in your
profession; and perhaps, after all, that is the best way of making a
fortune. You will enjoy it much more than if you have a fortune ready
made for you."
Thus said Mr. Martindale to the astonished and perplexed Horatio
Markham, who, as soon as he had recovered from the surprise with which
this greeting overwhelmed him, replied,
"My good sir, you astonish me beyond measure. What can you allude to?
I have not the slightest idea of what you can refer to. I assure you,
sir, that you have been much misinformed if you have heard of any
matrimonial engagement of mine."
With equal, if not greater astonishment, Mr. Martindale returned,
"My good sir, you astonish _me_ beyond measure. Not know what I allude
to? What, do you pretend to say that your attentions to Miss Henderson
have meant nothing? All the world says that you are engaged to her, and
that during the whole winter you have been assiduously attending her
to the Opera, and perpetually dangling about with her. Indeed, some of
your friends have observed that your attention was more occupied on
Miss Henderson, than on the performances on the stage or orchestra: so
it is absolutely ridiculous in you to affect to deny what every body
knows to be the truth. And why should you deny it? you have a right to
offer your hand to whomsoever you please. I know no objection to Miss
Henderson."
Thereupon a flood of light burst in upon the mind of the young
barrister, and he trembled in every limb, when he thought of the manner
in which he had been so long and so carelessly committing himself. He
saw that there was no room for denial, unless accompanied with very
copious explanation; and he actually feared, that no explanation which
he could give would be sufficient to exonerate him from the charge of
having trifled with Miss Henderson's feelings, and having severely
interrupted her happiness. This was not an enviable state of mind
for a young gentleman who was very anxious to preserve a high moral
reputation, as well as to acquire a high intellectual reputation. He
was perplexed beyond measure; and he was for some minutes unable to say
a word in continuation, denial, or defence. But thinking it absolutely
necessary to say something after the very decided manner in which Mr.
Martindale had brought the matter home to him, he replied,
"It is very true, sir, that I did accompany Miss Henderson several
times to the Opera; but I am not at all aware that my attention was
more taken up by the young lady than good manners absolutely required.
I have a recollection that Miss Henderson did very frequently address
herself to me on the subject of the performance, more frequently
perhaps than was consistent with a proper attention to the stage, and
of course I could do no less than reply: that was the substance of the
attention which I paid to Miss Henderson in public. I am surprised to
find that any one should from such circumstances have raised the story
of my intention of marrying the young lady."
"You may be as much surprised as you will; but the fact is, that the
story comes from Miss Henderson herself, or at all events she has not
denied it when it has been mentioned to her, and that is nearly the
same."
Markham knew that Mr. Martindale was not addicted to playing off
practical jokes, and therefore he did not disbelieve what he said; and
he was also aware that the old gentleman would not take up a story
merely at random, without some good authority, therefore it appeared
that the information was correct; and then, for the first time in
his life, Markham began to think it possible that there were such
beings as forward young ladies, and that all individuals of the sex
were not equally difficult to woo and to win. All that he could do at
present was to assure Mr. Martindale that Miss Henderson had formed
an incorrect conclusion, and to take blame to himself for not having
wisdom and attention to see before that which was now so very obvious.
Mr. Martindale, however, who was a more experienced man than the young
barrister, presently saw how the case stood, and pitied the unfortunate
young man most sincerely.
"I see," said he, "how the matter is. The fact is, you have unwarily
committed yourself; and the young lady is of opinion that your
attentions meant more than you designed them to mean. I do not know
how to advise you, you must use your own judgment, and do the best you
can for yourself. If you have no objection to the young lady, there is
no harm done; and if you require a little help at the commencement of
housekeeping, I will stand your friend. I have no doubt of your success
in your profession; but perhaps at present, as Miss Henderson cannot
have any fortune, you may find a friend's assistance not unacceptable."
This was uttered in Mr. Martindale's usual frank and abrupt manner;
and on the part of Markham, it was felt to be very generous and kind,
and he acknowledged it accordingly. But there were two matters to which
he felt strong objections; viz. to marrying where there was not on his
part much or indeed any affection, and also to the accepting pecuniary
favors from a comparative stranger. These were certainly difficulties
not easy to be surmounted. And when Mr. Martindale left the young
gentleman to his meditations, those meditations were not the most
pleasant.