What effect conversation of this nature produced on his lordship’s mind must be narrated hereafter. We must now pay our attention elsewhere.
“There are that love the shades of life, And shun the splendid walks of fame.”
Horatio Markham has been but seldom before our readers during the progress of our narrative; but when he has been introduced, it has been very apparent that he has been somewhat of a favorite with us. When a young barrister attends closely and seriously to business; and when, in addition to his rising reputation, which promises at once profit and honor, he enjoys the patronage of a nobleman of exalted rank and commanding influence; when the young man has a motive to industry in seeing and partly enjoying the fruits of professional diligence, his adventures must of necessity be very few, and the tenor of his life must be very monotonous. He may indeed, as Markham very probably did, visit many respectable families; may slip quietly into many an evening party, and as quietly slip out again. He may sit still, or walk about, and say little to any body present at these parties; for his mind may be otherwise engaged; his eyes may be dazzled with many a beauty, and may twinkle for an hour or two, annoyed by excess of artificial light; and he may go home and dream about the Arabian Nights’ Entertainments, and the Statutes at Large, and be very glad of a quiet cup of coffee the next morning. He may perhaps think now and then that it would be very desirable that he should have a house at the west end of the town with three drawing-rooms; and that he should have an income, allowing him to spend four or five hundred pounds in an evening to entertain four or five hundred people who would never thank him for his trouble; and that he should have for his wife a woman possessed of every virtue under the sun, beautiful as Venus, but infinitely more decent; majestic as Juno, but not quite such a termagant; and wise as Minerva, but not quite so prosy as Mentor. He may think, again, that perhaps rather less may content his ambition. He may occasionally, by way of recreation, attend a theatre or an opera, and he may forget next morning whether he had been witnessing tragedy or comedy; and perhaps he might not know at the time if he had not a play-bill. He may sometimes have a friend to breakfast with him at his chambers, and he may talk very sensibly on an infinite variety of subjects, and may give his opinions on many a decision, and on various points of law. He may sometimes in an evening visit a quiet domestic family, and make himself very agreeable to all branches of the family, talking politics with the gentleman, economy with the lady, poetry with the daughters, and science with the sons: he may even carry his complaisance so far as to discover tokens of genius in infants six months old; and if the mania of craniology has bitten any of the family, he may discover the organ of numbers in a great booby who, at ten years of age, has just got into long division. He may hold a share in a literary and scientific institution; and he may look wise over a lecture on chemistry without learning how to make soap, or acquiring the art of detecting the admixture of cape with sherry.