at his life had been one mistake; Lord
Lilburne's intellect was far keener than Gawtrey's, and he had never
made, and if he had lived to the age of Old Parr, never would have made
a similar discovery. He never wrestled against a law, though he slipped
through all laws! And he knew no remorse, for he knew no fear. Lord
Lilburne had married early, and long survived, a lady of fortune, the
daughter of the then Premier--the best match, in fact, of his day. And
for one very brief period of his life he had suffered himself to enter
into the field of politics the only ambition common with men of
equal rank. He showed talents that might have raised one so gifted by
circumstance to any height, and then retired at once into his old habits
and old system of pleasure. "I wished to try," said he once, "if fame
was worth one headache, and I have convinced myself that the man who can
sacrifice the bone in his mouth to the shadow of the bone in the water
is a fool." From that time he never attended the House of Lords,
and declared himself of no political opinions one way or the other.
Nevertheless, the world had a general belief in his powers, and
Vaudemont reluctantly subscribed to the world's verdict. Yet he had
done nothing, he had read but little, he laughed at the world to its
face,--and that last was, after all, the main secret of his ascendancy
over those who were drawn into his circle. That contempt of the world
placed the world at his feet. His sardonic and polished indifference,
his professed code that there was no life worth caring for but his own
life, his exemption from all cant, prejudice, and disguise, the frigid
lubricity with which he glided out of the grasp of the Conventional,
whenever it so pleased him, without shocking the Decorums whose sense is
in their ear, and who are not roused by the deed but by the noise,--all
this had in it the marrow and essence of a system triumphant with the
vulgar; for little minds give importance to the man who gives importance
to nothing. Lord Lilburne's authority, not in matters of taste alone,
but in those which the world calls judgment and common sense, was
regarded as an oracle. He cared not a straw for the ordinary baubles
that attract his order; he had refused both an earldom and the garter,
and this was often quoted in his honour. But you only try a man's virtue
when you offer him something that he covets. The earldom and the garter
were to Lord Lilburne no more tempting induceme