Traceless and swift and changeful as the wind,)
The morn and Hurgonil had much outgone,
While Truth mov’d patiently within behind.”
Davenant.
From Hovenden Lodge, Philip Martindale returned home; and after finding every thing as it should be at the Abbey, and arranging with the trusty Oliver concerning uniformity of narrative, he called upon the old gentleman at the cottage. There he underwent a long harangue on the folly of archery, and the silliness of Sir Andrew Featherstone, together with a desultory dissertation on the frivolity of the age in general. From which dissertation, it was to be inferred that old John Martindale was the only man living who had the least idea of propriety and wisdom of conduct.
With becoming deference and submission, the young gentleman gave his assent to whatsoever the senior was pleased to assert. This is one of the greatest pains of a state of dependence, that it robs a man of the pleasure of contradicting; and it is also one of the greatest evils of holding intercourse with dependants, that a man is thereby deprived of the pleasure of being contradicted. These were evils which the old and the young gentleman both felt, but the old gentleman felt it most deeply. Contradiction was so much his element, that he could hardly live without it; and rather than not enjoy the pleasure of it, he would contradict himself. That must have been a man of uncommon and high powers of mind, who could so have managed the old gentleman as to stimulate without offending him. The Hon. Philip Martindale was not equal to it, either from want of capacity or from lack of attention and diligence.
When the old gentleman had finished a tolerably long harangue on fools and follies of all descriptions, it almost occurred to him that if so great was the number of follies, and so long was the list of fools, there could be little else than folly in all human pursuits; and that he himself, in his own singularity of wisdom, was something of a fool for being so outrageously wise, when there was nobody left to keep him in countenance. Paradoxical as it may sound, it is not far from truth that excess of wisdom is excess of folly. The old gentleman thought so when he said to his cousin:
“I dare say now that you think me an old fool for my pains, if you would be honest enough to speak your mind.”
Not waiting for a reply to this very wise, though not very original remark, Mr. Martindale continued his talk: “I am sorry, Master Philip, you thought fit to take yourself off just at the very moment that you were wanted. I have had a very pleasant and intelligent companion at the cottage for the last two days, I particularly wished to introduce him to you; I mean the young barrister, who pleaded old Richard Smith’s cause so temperately and so successfully. I should have thought that the company of an intelligent young man would be far more agreeable than a set of idle gabbling chits, and an old simpleton of a baronet, who has not an idea in the world beyond a cookery-book. But every man to his taste.”
“I am sorry, sir,” replied Philip, “that I was not aware of your friend’s being at Brigland. It would have given me great pleasure to be introduced to him. He certainly conducted his cause with great propriety, and did not take, as some persons might have done, an opportunity of insulting me.”