ve school masters
of the million liked it, and took their pleasure in that way. The
Romfreys did not breed warriors for a parade at Court; wars, though
frequent, were not constant, and they wanted occupation: they may even
have felt that they were bound in no common degree to the pursuit of an
answer to what may be called the parent question of humanity: Am I thy
master, or thou mine? They put it to lords of other castles, to town
corporations, and sometimes brother to brother: and notwithstanding that
the answer often unseated and once discastled them, they swam back to
their places, as born warriors, urged by a passion for land, are almost
sure to do; are indeed quite sure, so long as they multiply sturdily, and
will never take no from Fortune. A family passion for land, that survives
a generation, is as effective as genius in producing the object it
conceives; and through marriages and conflicts, the seizure of lands, and
brides bearing land, these sharp-feeding eagle-eyed earls of Romfrey
spied few spots within their top tower's wide circle of the heavens not
their own.

It is therefore manifest that they had the root qualities, the prime
active elements, of men in perfection, and notably that appetite to
flourish at the cost of the weaker, which is the blessed exemplification
of strength, and has been man's cheerfulest encouragement to fight on
since his comparative subjugation (on the whole, it seems complete) of
the animal world. By-and-by the struggle is transferred to higher ground,
and we begin to perceive how much we are indebted to the fighting spirit.
Strength is the brute form of truth. No conspicuously great man was born
of the Romfreys, who were better served by a succession of able sons.
They sent undistinguished able men to army and navy--lieutenants given to
be critics of their captains, but trustworthy for their work. In the
later life of the family, they preferred the provincial state of splendid
squires to Court and political honours. They were renowned shots,
long-limbed stalking sportsmen in field and bower, fast friends,
intemperate enemies, handsome to feminine eyes, resembling one another in
build, and mostly of the Northern colour, or betwixt the tints, with an
hereditary nose and mouth that cried Romfrey from faces thrice diluted in
cousinships.

The Hon. Everard (Stephen Denely Craven Romfrey), third son of the late
Earl, had some hopes of the title, and was in person a noticeable
gentlem