an, in mind a mediaeval baron, in politics a crotchety
unintelligible Whig. He inherited the estate of Holdesbury, on the
borders of Hampshire and Wilts, and espoused that of Steynham in Sussex,
where he generally resided. His favourite in the family had been the Lady
Emily, his eldest sister, who, contrary to the advice of her other
brothers and sisters, had yielded her hand to his not wealthy friend,
Colonel Richard Beauchamp. After the death of Nevil's parents, he adopted
the boy, being himself childless, and a widower. Childlessness was the
affliction of the family. Everard, having no son, could hardly hope that
his brother the Earl, and Craven, Lord Avonley, would have one, for he
loved the prospect of the title. Yet, as there were no cousins of the
male branch extant, the lack of an heir was a serious omission, and to
become the Earl of Romfrey, and be the last Earl of Romfrey, was a
melancholy thought, however brilliant. So sinks the sun: but he could not
desire the end of a great day. At one time he was a hot Parliamentarian,
calling himself a Whig, called by the Whigs a Radical, called by the
Radicals a Tory, and very happy in fighting them all round. This was
during the decay of his party, before the Liberals were defined. A
Liberal deprived him of the seat he had held for fifteen years, and the
clearness of his understanding was obscured by that black vision of
popular ingratitude which afflicts the free fighting man yet more than
the malleable public servant. The latter has a clerkly humility attached
to him like a second nature, from his habit of doing as others bid him:
the former smacks a voluntarily sweating forehead and throbbing wounds
for witness of his claim upon your palpable thankfulness. It is an insult
to tell him that he fought for his own satisfaction. Mr. Romfrey still
called himself a Whig, though it was Whig mean vengeance on account of
his erratic vote and voice on two or three occasions that denied him a
peerage and a seat in haven. Thither let your good sheep go, your echoes,
your wag-tail dogs, your wealthy pursy manufacturers! He decried the
attractions of the sublimer House, and laughed at the transparent
Whiggery of his party in replenishing it from the upper shoots of the
commonalty: 'Dragging it down to prop it up! swamping it to keep it
swimming!' he said.

He was nevertheless a vehement supporter of that House. He stood for
King, Lords, and Commons, in spite of his personal grievan