CHAPTER XVI.

"I should before

Have done that duty to him; but I thought

My visits were not welcome."

MAY.

When Markham was left alone to his meditations, he thought over

his follies and weaknesses; and soon came to the conclusion, that

though books teach a great deal, they do not teach every thing. His

own case was one that perplexed him much more than the cases of any

of his clients. Had any one brought and proposed the case to his

consideration, asking for his opinion, he would have been able, it may

be, to contemplate it deliberately, and offer something in the shape of

advice; but as the case was his own, he could not so calmly and coolly

study it. None of his books of law-precedents would give him the least

assistance. That is a very awkward state of mind to be placed in, when

something must be done and nothing can be done.

Myriads of young gentlemen have been much more assiduous in their

attentions to various young ladies than Markham had been to Miss

Henderson, and have never thought any thing of ceasing those attentions

when they felt so inclined. This, however, was not such conduct as

Markham could approve, nor such an example as he would willingly

follow. He was a very conscientious man. Some have thought him to

be almost fastidious in those matters. He was desirous of having a

very high character, and wished that his conduct should be such as to

need no apologies or excuses or vindications, either on the ground of

morals or of intellect. But how to escape in the present instance the

reproaches that might cleave to him on a moral ground on one side, or

an intellectual on the other, he could not easily and readily see. For

if he should in consequence of the attentions which he had paid to

Miss Henderson, and by which he had undesignedly given her reason to

expect an offer of his hand, actually propose to her and marry her, he

felt that he should be making a foolish bargain, and should deserve

for his own heedlessness whatever inconveniences might result from the

marriage. Or if, as he really had no serious intentions, he should

not make the offer of his hand, but gradually decline or drop the

acquaintance, then would he be reproached, and not without some show

of justice, for having paid unmeaning and deceiving attentions where

he had no other motive than merely to amuse himself. This was what he

could not bear with any degree of patience. It was absolutely necessary

for him to decide soon; for he should of course be under the necessity

of soon calling on the Hendersons, or giving up his acquaintance with

them altogether.

While he was in this painful, or at least very unpleasant state of

hesitation and anxiety, he received a message from his noble patron or

friend. This message required Markham's immediate attendance on his

lordship, and this immediate attendance was by Markham most cheerfully

given.

"My good friend," said his lordship, "when you first returned to

England you honored me with a call, but I have seen nothing of you

since. You have not found my doors closed to you."

"I was fearful," replied Markham, "that I might by repeating my call

seem to be intrusive, and claiming an acquaintance to which I have no

right to aspire."

"Nonsense, nonsense," returned his lordship; "it is becoming in a

young man to be aspiring: ambition is of itself neither virtue nor

vice, its moral quality depends on its accompaniments and means. Never

be content with an humble station when it is in your power to gain a

higher."

"I was also fearful," said Markham, "that I might encroach on your

lordship's valuable time."

"Yes, yes, that is very well," said his lordship in reply; "have a

proper regard to time. It looks very important to be full of business;

but I think you must know me well enough to see that it is not my forte

to ape importance by such tricks. Just at this moment I am not at all

busy. I can spare you an hour or two, and I may perhaps therefore

encroach upon your time. But I have sent for you to say that I have a

situation for you in England; one which will not take you from your

friends, nor interfere with your health. If you have ambition, as I

trust you have, you may have an opportunity of rising in the world. It

is all very well to be content with your situation when you cannot make

it better; contentment in any other circumstances is mere idleness and

indolence."

Markham bowed assent. The patron then stated the situation which was

destined for him, and hinted that it would be desirable that he should

have a seat in parliament.

"But that," said his lordship, "we must think of hereafter. In the

mean time, let me not take upon myself all the merit of appointing you

to this office. I am greatly indebted to Mr. Martindale that he has

made me more acquainted with those traits in your character which seem

peculiarly to fit you for your present employment. But, my good friend,

observe this; I am not recommending you merely to make a market of your

situation. Make the best of it if you please; but the surest way to

make the best of it is to perform its duties conscientiously."

It was very pleasant to Markham to have a situation of so promising

a character presented to him under such agreeable circumstances; and

it was very pleasant to him to hear from his noble friend good advice,

which was perfectly in unison with his own feelings. His noble friend

was well aware of the character and complexion of his mind, and he

therefore more readily gave him such advice as he was most likely to

follow. That is most excellent policy; it answered the purpose of

rendering his lordship agreeable to Markham, and it was a very pleasant

and agreeable encouragement to the young man's virtues. Perhaps it is

better to seek the improvement of mankind by encouraging their virtues

than by reproaching their vices.

Pleasant, however, as this new honor was to Markham, it brought with

it one inconvenience, inasmuch as it did not by any means promise to

diminish, but rather threatened to increase Miss Henderson's tender

regards towards him. The young gentleman could not help thinking how

happy he should be, if by any means he could but extricate himself

honorably and satisfactorily from his unpleasant and perplexing

situation as regarded this young lady. It is, we firmly believe, a

fact, that many persons owe their marriages to circumstances more than

to any deliberate and decided act of their own. Of the multitudes of

ill-assorted couples it is often said, "Who would have thought it!"

Who, indeed! Nobody. They are even astonished at themselves. And if

Markham had not been roused by Mr. Martindale's information from his

dreams and slumbers, he would have been gradually and surely led step

by step to a marriage with Miss Henderson; and when he had been married

about ten years, he would have wondered how he came to be married, and

would have forgotten all the particulars of the courtship.

It turned out as Markham had expected. Miss Henderson was more loving

and affectionate than ever. For as soon as it could possibly transpire

that Markham was appointed to the situation above alluded to, the

young lady was in possession of the information; and not waiting

for the formality of a call from her "dear Markham," she despatched

to the young gentleman a letter of congratulation on his honors.

Much surprised indeed was he to see upon his table one morning, a

neatly-folded note directed "Horatio Markham, Esq. Inner Temple."

Surprised was he to see the hand-writing which he knew to be Miss

Henderson's. With no very agreeable emotions did he open it, and with

no very pleasant feeling did he read it. It was written in a very

beautiful and delicate hand, but with all its beauties, it had no

charms for him. We hope our readers will be more entertained with it

than he was, otherwise we shall waste our time in recording it. Thus it

read:

"You will not be much surprised, my dear friend, at receiving a letter

of congratulation from me on your appointment. Merit is not always

overlooked. Happy is it for our country, that there are sometimes in

the ministry men of integrity and discernment. Pa is quite delighted

at the thought of your good fortune. He says, and I believe him,

that no man better deserves it, and that no man will or can better

discharge the duties of that situation. But have you forgot us, my

dearest friend? You have not favored us with one single call since

your return from the circuit. Now I mention the circuit, let me thank

you in the name and on the behalf of the sex in general, for your most

excellent and powerful speech in the celebrated action for breach of

promise. Every body talked about it; it gave universal satisfaction

and delight. Oh! if such pure principles as yours were more common,

fewer would be the broken hearts, and fewer the miseries of our

weak confiding sex. But I must not detain you from your important

avocations by my foolish scribbling, I bid you therefore adieu for the

present, hoping soon to enjoy the felicity of seeing you again, if you

can spare a moment for so insignificant a being as

REBECCA HENDERSON."

This letter was not very argumentative, but Markham felt it to be

unanswerable: and as the young gentleman was not addicted to swearing,

he did not curse his ill fortune; and as he was not a believer in

astrology, he said not a word in blame of his stars. But he thought

he had been making a fool of himself; and he also thought, that if he

did not make himself a greater fool, the world would be apt to say

that he had made a fool of Miss Henderson. The world is a difficult

thing to manage. It never knows when it is pleased; it quarrels with

us for trifles, blames for virtues, urges us to folly, laughs at our

perplexities, cares nothing for our misfortunes, and sets us into

a state of fermentation and agitation we scarcely know what about.

Markham had a great respect for the world, because he wished the world

to have some respect for him. Morally speaking, it is very good to

have some regard to the world's opinion; it is the religion of a great

majority of the human species. It keeps in awe and good order many a

one who would otherwise run out into great and grievous extravagancies.

Markham, for a man of conscience, was rather too much devoted to the

idolatry of the world's opinion: he was so unreasonable as to wish

to have the world's good opinion, and his own too. This made him

frequently anxious and uneasy. He certainly could have escaped from his

present dilemma without much difficulty, if he had not been strongly

moved by the thought of what the world would say. That influenced him

most powerfully. He was grieved at the idea, that he must be subject

to reproach, or undergo captivity for life. If he had consulted his

own conscience, that would have told him, that as he had no intention

whatever to make an impression on the heart of Miss Henderson, so he

had no obligation to offer her his hand, because she had offered him

her heart. He thought, or he might have thought, that it was possible

that there might have been two ladies situated as Miss Henderson, and

both might have complimented him on his talents and virtues, and good

success in life, and both might have fancied that his civilities had

meant more than they actually were designed to mean; he could not marry

them both. Let those of our readers who fancy that Markham was to blame

in his wishing to be rid of this incumbrance, consider the possibility

of two persons forming an attachment to him from attentions not

designed to be, and in themselves really not, particular, they could

not both have a claim to his hand; and the same argument which would

vindicate the desertion of one would vindicate the desertion, or to use

a milder term, the relinquishment of both. This lesson, however, may be

learned by both sexes from the present situation of Markham, viz., that

young gentlemen should be very careful how they pay attentions to young

ladies, and young ladies should be as careful how they receive those

attentions. Indeed, we would recommend young ladies by no means to fall

in love till the question has been put. Then let them fall in love as

violently as they please, only let them take care even then not to make

too great a display of that love. Young gentlemen also should recollect

that there are some young ladies who misinterpret attentions, and take

that to be particular which is only general. It has been, that if you

look at an Irish lady at table, she will say, "Port if you plase." Thus

there are some young ladies in this kingdom who sadly misinterpret

looks and fine speeches. There is, however, this consolation in such

cases, that the old vulgar proverb, "Lightly come, lightly go," is very

applicable to them; and, therefore, though they may be in a violent

passion at the loss of an imaginary or imagined lover, they can soon

find another.

It would have been very much to Markham's comfort, could he but have

known how heroically Miss Henderson transferred Mr. Tippetson to Clara;

and how calmly her heart made the transition of its affections from

Mr. Tippetson to himself. Then, indeed, he could conscientiously have

slipped away by the means of a short absence, and a little cessation

of attention, knowing or strongly presuming, that his place would be

very soon supplied. But all this he did not know, and all this he

did not suspect, and all this he could hardly have believed, had any

one told him. In all his multifarious readings about precedents and

conveyancing, he had not met with a precedent for such conveyancing as

this. He, poor youth, in the simplicity of his soul, thought that Miss

Henderson must either become Mrs. Markham, or die of a broken heart;

and he would have been very sorry for either of these calamities.

The only consolation that he could find under present circumstances

was, that perhaps by some unexpected turn of affairs, an opportunity

might be afforded him by which he might be extricated from his present

difficulties. Thus we remember to have seen some twenty years ago, a

comedy in which was introduced a character called Sir Abel Handy, and

this Sir Abel Handy was a very ingenious man in his own estimation,

full of contrivances, which might rival the philosophers of Laputa;

but these contrivances in general had some unlucky flaw or defect,

which rendered them altogether useless. Thus, when in the course of the

piece, news is brought that a house is on fire, one of the characters

asks Sir Abel Handy, where is his machine or contrivance for putting

out fire at a moment's notice. Unfortunately this machine is by some

untoward accident not in order, or not forthcoming; and Sir Abel Handy

being a wise man, and like all other wise men not liking to look

foolish, says, "Oh, never mind, I have hit upon a plan to put the fire

out."--"What is that?"--"Why perhaps it may go out of itself." We like

this plan very much, and so did Markham, for it was the only hope he

had.

Rank and Talent; A Novel, Vol. 2 (of 3) · 第 16 / 19 章