Complete Novels of Maria Edgeworth

by Maria Edgeworth

  “Lord Oldborough certainly told me the other day, and in a very significant manner, and, as I now recollect, fixing his inquiring eye upon me as he said the words, that he not only felt esteem and regard for Mr. Percy, but gratitude — gratitude for tried friendship. I took it at the time as a general expression of kindness; now I recollect the look, and the pause after the word gratitude, I put this with Temple’s coals to Newcastle. But, if it be a secret, I must not inquire, and if it be not, you will tell it to me. So I shall go on to my own affairs.

  “The other day I was surprised by a visit at my chambers from an East-India director. Lord Oldborough, I find, recommended it to him to employ me in a very important cause, long pending, for a vast sum of money: the whole, with all its accumulated and accumulating interest, depending on a point of law. Heaven send me special sense, or special nonsense, sufficient to avoid a nonsuit, of which there have been already no less than three in this cause.

  “What do you think of Lord Oldborough’s kindness? This is only one of many instances in which I have traced his desire to serve me. It is not common with politicians, thus to recollect those who have no means of serving them, and who have never reminded them even of their existence by paying court in any way actively or passively.

  “The Falconers are all discontented with his lordship at this moment, because he has disposed of a sinecure place on which the commissioner had long had his eye. His lordship has given it to an old disabled sea-captain, whom he knew only by reputation.

  “The accounts you have heard of Buckhurst’s marriage are, alas! too true; and what you have been told of the lady’s age and ugliness is not exaggerated. As to her temper and her avarice, I am afraid that what you have heard of them is also true; for a brother lawyer of mine, who was employed to draw the settlements, says she has taken care to keep every penny she could in her own power; and that, in the whole course of his practice, he never saw so hard a battle between love and parsimony. Poor Buckhurst! who could have foreseen that this would be his fate! I met him in the street yesterday with his bride, and he looked as if he would rather be hanged than receive my congratulations: I passed without seeming to have seen them.

  “I have just received Mr. Barclay’s letter, and am going to work upon his settlements. So Caroline’s wishes for Lady Mary Pembroke will be accomplished. I asked Temple whether Lord Oldborough had heard any thing of Count Altenberg since his return to his own country. Yes — one private letter to Lord Oldborough, from which nothing had transpired but one line of general thanks for civilities received in England. Temple, who seems to have formed the same notion and the same wishes that we had, told me yesterday, without my questioning him, that Lord Oldborough had written with his own hand an answer to the Count, which none of the secretaries have seen. Temple, in sealing up the packet, ventured to ask whether there was any chance of seeing Count Altenberg again in England. ‘None that he knew,’ Lord Oldborough answered. Temple, who of all men is least like Commissioner Falconer in circumlocutory address, at once blurted out, ‘Is Count Altenberg going to be married?’ Lord Oldborough turned and looked upon him with surprise — whether surprise at his curiosity, or at the improbability of the Count’s making his lordship the confidant of his love-affairs, Temple declares he was in too much confusion to be able to decide. Lord Oldborough made no reply, but took up an answer to a memorial, which he had ordered Temple to draw, pointed out some unlucky mistakes in it, and finished by saying to him, ‘Mr. Temple, your thoughts are not in your business. Sir, I do believe you are in love;’ which sentence Temple declares his lordship pronounced with a look and accent that would have suited, Sir, I do believe you have the plague.’ And if so, do me the justice to let me employ Mr. Shaw to do your business, till you are married.’

  “Temple says that Lord Oldborough is proud of showing himself a foe to love, which he considers as the bane of ambition, and as one of the weaknesses of human nature, to which a great man ought to be superior.

  “Whether the secretary be right or wrong in this opinion of his lordship, I have not seen enough to be able to determine; and I suspect that Temple is not at present a perfectly calm observer. Ever since his visit to the country he seems not to be entirely master of himself: his heart is still hovering round about some absent object — what object, I do not know; for though he does not deny my charge, he will not tell me the name of his fair one. I suspect Lady Frances Arlington of having stolen his heart. I am very sorry for it — for I am clear she is only coquetting with him. Temple says that he is too poor to marry. He is so amiable, that I am sure he will make any woman he marries happy, if it be not her own fault, and if they have but enough to live upon. It grieves me to hear his unavailing daily regrets for having quitted the bar. Had he continued in his original profession, he might, and in all probability would have been, at this moment (as his competitor, a man much his inferior in talent, actually is), in the receipt of four thousand good pounds per annum, independent of all men; and might have married any woman in any rank. Besides, even with such a patron as Lord Oldborough, Temple feels dependence grievous to his spirit. He is of a very good family, and was not early used to a subservient situation. His health too will be hurt by his close confinement to the business of office — and he has no time for indulging his literary taste — no play for his genius: that was his original grievance at the bar, but his present occupations are less congenial to his taste than law ever was. His brother-secretary, Mr. Shaw, is a mere matter-of-fact man, who is particularly unsuited to him — an objector to every thing new, a curtailer and contemner of all eloquence: poor Temple is uneasy and discontented; he would give up his situation to-morrow but that he cannot quit Lord Oldborough. He says that he has a hundred times resolved to resign — that he has had his letter written, and the words on his lips; but he never could, when it came to the point, present the letter, or pronounce the farewell to Lord Oldborough. Wonderful the ascendancy this man has over the mind! — Extraordinary his power of attaching, with manners so little conciliatory! Adieu, my dear father; I have indulged myself too long in writing to you. I have to read over the late Mr. Panton’s will, and to give our friend Mr. Gresham an opinion upon it — notwithstanding Rosamond’s cruelty to him, he is as much our friend, and her friend, as ever. Panton’s will is on ten skins of parchment: and then I have a plea in rejoinder to draw for Lady Jane Granville; and, worse than all, to read and answer four of her ladyship’s notes now on my table. By-the-bye, I would rather carry on a suit for any four men, than for one such woman of business as poor Lady Jane. She is never at rest one moment; never can believe that either lawyer or solicitor knows what he is about — always thinks her letters and notes can do more than bills in chancery, or than the lord chancellor himself. She frets incessantly. I must request Erasmus to medicine her to repose; she has absolutely a law fever. Erasmus is at Richmond — sent for by some grandee: he is in high practice. He told me he began last week to write to Rosamond, from the bedside of some sleeping patient, a full and true answer to all her questions about Miss Panton; but the sleeper awakened, and the doctor had never time to finish his story.

  “Adieu a second time. Love to all.

  “Dear father, yours affectionately,

  “ALFRED PERCY.

  “Just as I began the second skin of Panton’s will, a note was brought to me from — whom do you think? Lord Oldborough, requesting to see me at four o’clock. What can his lordship want with me? — I must send this frank before I can satisfy my own curiosity on this point — or yours, Rosamond.”

  After finishing the perusal of Mr. Panton’s long-winded will, writing an opinion upon it for Mr. Gresham, and penning a quieting note for poor Lady Jane Granville, Alfred, eager to be punctual to the appointed hour, went to the minister. He need not have looked at his watch so often, or have walked so fast, for when he arrived it wanted five minutes of the time appointed, and his lordship had not returned from a visit to the Duke of Greenwich. He was told, however, that orders had bee
n given for his admittance; and he was shown into an apartment where he had leisure, during a full quarter of an hour, to admire his own punctuality. At last he heard a noise of loud huzzas in the street, and looking out of the window, he saw a crowd at the farthest end of the street; and as it moved nearer, perceived that the populace had taken the horses from Lord Oldborough’s carriage, and were drawing him to his own door with loud acclamations. His lordship bowed to the multitude as he got out of his carriage rather proudly and coldly, yet still the crowd threw up their hats and huzzaed. He apologized to Alfred, as he entered the room, for having been later than his appointment. Commissioner Falconer and Mr. Temple were with him, and the commissioner immediately began to tell how they had been delayed by the zeal of the people. Lord Oldborough took a paper from his pocket, and walked to the window to read it, without seeming to hear one word that the commissioner was saying, and without paying any attention to the acclamations of the multitude below, which were again repeated on their seeing him at the window. When his lordship had finished looking over the paper, he called upon Alfred to witness it, and then presenting it to Mr. Falconer, he said, in his haughtiest manner, “An equivalent, sir, for that sinecure place which you asked for, and which it was out of my power to obtain for you. That was given as the just reward of merit, and of public services. My private debts—” [Alfred Percy observed that his lordship did not use the word obligation]. “My private debts to your family, Mr. Falconer, could not be paid from the public fund with which I am entrusted, but you will not, I hope, find me the less desirous that they should be properly acknowledged. The annuity,” continued he, putting his finger on the amount, which the commissioner longed to see, but at which he had not dared yet to look, “the annuity is to the full amount of that place which, I think you assured me, would satisfy your and Mrs. Falconer’s expectations.”

  “Oh! my lord, more than satisfy: but from your lordship’s private fortune — from your lordship’s own emoluments of office, I cannot possibly think — Mrs. Falconer would, I am sure, be excessively distressed—”

  “Do me the favour, sir, to let no more be said upon this subject,” interrupted Lord Oldborough. “As you return home, will you speak to those poor people whom I still hear in the street, and advise them now to return peaceably to their homes. My man Rodney, I am afraid, has thought it for my honour to be too liberal to these good people — but you will speak to them, commissioner.”

  The commissioner, who never completely felt Lord Oldborough’s character, imagined that at this moment his lordship secretly enjoyed the clamour of popular applause, and that this cold indifference was affected; Mr. Falconer therefore protested, with a smile, that he would do his best to calm the enthusiasm of the people, but that it was a hard, if not impossible task, to stem the tide of Lord Oldborough’s popularity. “Enjoy it, my lord!” concluded Mr. Falconer; “Enjoy it! — No minister in my memory ever was so popular!”

  As soon as the commissioner, after saying these words, had left the room, Lord Oldborough, in a tone of sovereign contempt, repeated the word, “Popularity! There goes a man, now, who thinks me fit to be a fool to fame!”

  “Popularity,” said Mr. Temple, “is a bad master, but a good servant. A great man will,” as Burke says, “disdain to veer like the weathercock on the temple of fashion with every breath of wind. But may he not, my lord — say, for you know — may he not wisely take advantage of the gale, and direct this great power, so as to work the state-machinery to good purpose?”

  “A dangerous power,” replied Lord Oldborough, turning from his secretary to Alfred, as if he were impatient to speak of business. Temple, who had more of the habits of a man of letters than of a man of business or of a courtier, was apt unseasonably to pursue a discussion, and to pique himself upon showing sincerity by declaring a difference of opinion from his patron. Utterly repugnant as this was to the minister’s habits and temper, yet in admiration of the boldness of the man, and in consideration for his true attachment, Lord Oldborough bore it with magnanimous patience — when he had time — and when he had not, would cut it short at once.

  “In a mixed government, popularity, philosophically speaking, if I may differ from your lordship—” Temple began.

  “Permit me, sir, first,” interrupted Lord Oldborough, “to settle my business with Mr. Alfred Percy, who, being a professional man, and in high practice, probably sets a just value upon his time.”

  Mr. Temple, who was a man of quick feelings, felt a word or glance of reproof from Lord Oldborough with keen sensibility. Alfred could not fix his own attention upon what his lordship was now beginning to say. Lord Oldborough saw reflected in Alfred’s countenance the disturbance in his friend’s: and immediately returning, and putting a key into Mr. Temple’s hand—”You will do me a service, sir,” said he, “by looking over my father’s papers marked private in red letters. They may be necessary in this business — they are papers which I could trust only to one who has my interests at heart.”

  Mr. Temple’s face brightened instantly, and bowing much lower than usual, he received the key with great respect, and hurried away to search for the papers.

  “For a similar reason, Mr. Alfred Percy,” said Lord Oldborough, “they shall, if you please, be put into your hands.” His lordship moved a chair towards Alfred, and seated himself. “My law-agent has not satisfied me of late. A suit, into which I have been plunged by those who had the direction of my business, has not been carried on with ability or vigour. I had not leisure to look into any affairs that merely concerned myself. Circumstances have just wakened me to the subject, and to the perception that my private fortune has suffered, and will suffer yet more materially, unless I am fortunate enough to find united in the same person a lawyer and a friend. I have looked round and see many older barristers than Mr. Alfred Percy, but none so likely to be interested in my affairs as the son of my earliest friend, and few more capable of conducting them with diligence and ability. May I hope, sir, for hereditary kindness from you, as well as for professional services?”

  No one knew better than Lord Oldborough how to seem receiving whilst he conferred a favour; and if ever he appeared harsh, it was only where he knew that the people to whom he spoke had not feelings worthy of his consideration. His lordship was as much pleased by the manner in which this trust was accepted, as our young lawyer could be by the manner in which it was offered.

  “My papers then shall be sent to you directly,” said Lord Oldborough. “Look over them, and if you are of opinion that my case is a bad one, I will stop where I am. If, on the contrary, you find that justice and law are on my side, proceed, persist. I shall trust the whole to you, sir, without a farther question.”

  Lord Oldborough next spoke of a steward of his at Clermont-park, who, as he had reason to suspect, was leagued with a certain Attorney Sharpe in fraudulent designs: his lordship hoped that Mr. Alfred Percy, during his vacations, when spent in that neighbourhood, might, consistently with his professional duties, find time to see into these affairs; and, in his lordship’s absence, might supply the want of the master’s eye.

  Alfred assured his lordship that no effort or care should be wanting on his part to justify the high confidence with which he was honoured.

  “Since you are going to take charge of my business, sir,” pursued Lord Oldborough, “it is fit you should know my views relative to my affairs. In my present situation, with the favour I enjoy, and the opportunities I command, it would be easy to make my fortune whatever I pleased. Avarice is not my passion. It is my pride not to increase the burdens of my country. Mine is a generous country, ever ready to reward her public servants, living or dying. But, whilst I live, never will I speculate upon her generosity, and, when I die, never shall my heirs appeal to her compassion. My power at its zenith, and my character being known, I can afford to lay aside much of that adventitious splendour which adds nothing to true dignity. Economy and dignity are compatible — essential to each other. To preserve independence, an
d, consequently, integrity, economy is necessary in all stations. Therefore, sir, I determine — for I am not stringing sentences together that are to end in nothing — I determine, at this moment, to begin to make retrenchments in my expenditure. The establishment at Clermont-park, whither I have no thoughts of returning, may be reduced. I commit that, sir, to your discretion.”

  Mr. Temple returned with the papers, on which Lord Oldborough put his seal, and said his solicitor should deliver them, with all others that were necessary, the next morning to Mr. Percy. Alfred, careful never to intrude a moment on the time of the minister, rose, and, without repeating his thanks, made his bow.

  “I consider this lawsuit as a fortunate circumstance,” said Lord Oldborough, “since it affords me means at last of engaging Mr. Alfred Percy in my service, in a mode which cannot,” added his lordship, smiling, “interfere with his family horror of ministerial patronage.”

  Alfred said something respectfully expressive of his sense of the professional advantage he must derive from being employed by Lord Oldborough — a species of patronage, by which he felt himself most highly honoured, and for which he was sure his whole family would feel properly grateful.

  “Sir,” said Lord Oldborough, following him to the door, “if I had ever doubted it, you would convince me that perfect propriety of manner is consistent with independence of mind. As to the rest, we all know the difference between a client and a patron.”

  The management of Lord Oldborough’s business necessarily led to an increase of intercourse between his lordship and Alfred, which was peculiarly agreeable to our young barrister, not only as it gave him opportunities of seeing more of the character of this minister, but as it put it into his power to be of service occasionally to his friend Mr. Temple. Chained to a desk, his genius confined to the forms of office, and with a master too high, and an associate too low, to afford him any of the pleasures of society, he had languished for want of a companion. Alfred encouraged him by example to submit to the drudgery of business, showed him that a man of letters may become a man of business, and that the habits of both may be rendered compatible. Temple now performed the duties of his office with all that regularity which is supposed to be peculiar to dulness. About this time he had been brought into parliament by Lord Oldborough, and in the intervals of business, in that leisure which order afforded him, he employed and concentrated his powers on a political question of considerable importance; and when he was completely master of the subject, he rose in the House of Commons, and made a speech, which from all parties obtained deserved applause. The speech was published. A few days afterwards, Mr. Temple happened to enter Lord Oldborough’s cabinet earlier than usual: he found his lordship reading; and reading with so much attention, that he did not observe him — he heard his lordship’s quick and decided pencil mark page after page. At length, rising and turning to throw the book on the table, Lord Oldborough saw his secretary copying a letter.