The Martins Of Cro' Martin Volume I Part 25

The only touch of years observable about his mind was a fondness for recurring to incidents or events in which he himself had borne a part.

A case in which he held a brief, the dinner at which he had been brilliant, the epigram he had dashed off in Lady Somebody's drawing-room, were bright spots he could not refrain from adverting to; but, generally speaking, he had skill enough to introduce these without any seeming effort or any straining, and thus strangers, at least, were in wonderment at his endless stores of anecdote and ill.u.s.tration. No man better than he knew how to throw a great name into the course of a conversation, and make an audience for himself, by saying, "I remember one day at the Priory with Curran"--or, "We were dining with poor Grattan at Tinnehinch, when--" "As Flood once remarked to me--" and so on.

The flattery of being addressed by one who had stood in such intimate relation to those ill.u.s.trious men never failed of success. The most thoughtless and giddy hearers were at once arrested by such an opening, and Repton was sure of listeners in every company.

The man who finds his place in every society is unquestionably a clever man. The apt.i.tude to chime in with the tone of others infers a high order of humor,--of humor in its real sense; meaning, thereby, the faculty of appreciating, and even cultivating, the individual peculiarities of those around him, and deriving from their display a high order of pleasure.

From these scattered traits let my reader conjure up Valentine Repton before him, and imagine the bustling, active, and brisk-looking old gentleman whose fidgetiness nearly drove Martin mad, as they held converse together in the library after breakfast. Now seated, now rising to pace the room, or drawing nigh the window to curse the pelting rain without, Repton seemed the incarnation of uneasiness.

"Very splendid--very grand--very sumptuous--no doubt," said he, ranging his eyes over the gorgeous decorations of the s.p.a.cious apartment, "but would kill me in a month; what am I saying?--in a week!"

"What would kill you, Repton?" said Martin, languidly.

"This life of yours, Martin,--this sombre quiet, this unbroken stillness, this grave-like monotony. Why, man, where 's your neighborhood? where are your gentry friends?"

"Cosby Blake, of Swainestown, is abroad," said Martin, with an indolent drawl. "Randal Burke seldom comes down here now. Rickman, I believe, is in the Fleet. They were the nearest to us!"

"What a country! and you are spending--What did you tell me last night,--was it upwards of ten thousand a year here?"

"What with planting, draining, bridging, reclaiming waste lands, and other improvements, the wages of last year alone exceeded seven thousand!"

"By Jove! it 's nigh incredible," said the lawyer, energetically. "My dear Martin, can't you perceive that all this is sheer waste,--so much good money actually thrown into Lough Corrib? Tell me, frankly, how long have you been pursuing this system of improvement?"

"About three years; under Mary's management."

"And the results,--what of them?"

"It is too early to speak of that; there's Kyle's Wood, for instance,--we have enclosed that at considerable cost. Of course we can't expect that the mere thinnings can repay us, the first year or two."

"And your reclaimed land,--how has _it_ prospered?"

"Not over well. They pushed draining so far that they 've left a large tract perfectly barren and unproductive."

"And the harbor,--the pier I saw yesterday?"

"That 's a bad business,--it's filling up the bay with sand! but we'll alter it in summer."

"And now for the people themselves,--are they better off, better fed, clothed, housed, and looked after, than before?"

"Mary says so. She tells me that there is a wonderful change for the better in them."

"I don't believe a word of it, Martin,--not a word of it. Ireland is not to be redeemed by her own gentry. The thing is sheer impossibility! They both know each other too well. Do you understand me? They are too ready to make allowances for shortcomings that have their source in some national prejudice; whereas your Saxon or your Scotchman would scout such a plea at once. Ireland wants an alternative, Martin,--an alternative; and, amidst our other anomalies, not the least singular is the fact that the Englishman, who knows nothing about us, nor ever will know anything, is precisely the man to better our condition."

"These are strange opinions to hear from your lips, Repton. I never heard any man so sarcastic as yourself on English ignorance regarding Ireland."

"And you may hear me again on the same theme whenever you vouchsafe me an audience," said the lawyer, sharply. "It was but the other day I gave our newly arrived secretary, Mr. Muspratt, a gentle intimation of my sentiments on that score. We were dining at the Lodge. I sat next his Excellency, who, in the course of dinner, directed my attention to a very graphic picture the secretary was drawing of the misery he had witnessed that very day, coming up from Carlow. He did the thing well, I must own. He gave the famished looks, the rags, the wretchedness, all their due; and he mingled his pathos and indignation with all the skill of an artist; while he actually imparted a Raffaelle effect to his sketch, as he portrayed the halt, the maimed, the blind, and the palsied that crowded around the carriage as he changed horses, exclaiming, by way of peroration, 'Misery and dest.i.tution like this no man ever witnessed before, all real and unfeigned as it was sure to be.'

"'Naas is a miserable place, indeed,' said I, for he looked directly towards me for a confirmation of his narrative.

"'There is no denying one word the gentleman has said; I came up that way from circuit three weeks ago, and was beset in the same spot, and in the same manner as we have just heard. I can't attempt such a description as Mr. Muspratt has given us; but I will say that there was not a human deformity or defect that did n't appear to have its representative in that ragged gathering, all clamorous and eager for aid. I looked at them for a while in wonderment, and at last I threw out a "tenpenny" in the midst. The "blind" fellow saw it first, but the "lame cripple" had the foot of him, and got the money!'"

Repton leaned back in his chair, and laughed heartily as he finished. "I only wish you saw his face, Martin; and, indeed, his Excellency's too.

The aides-de-camp laughed; they were very young, and could n't help it."

"He 'll not make you a chief justice, Repton," said Martin, slyly.

"I 'll take care he don't," said the other. "_Summum jus summa injuria_.

The chief justice is a great humbug, or a great abuse, whichever way you like to render it."

"And yet they'd be glad to promote you," said Martin, thoughtfully.

"To be sure they would, sir; delighted to place me where they had no fear of my indiscretions. But your judge should be ever a grave animal.

The temptation to a joke should never sit on the ermine. As Flood once remarked to me of old Romney, 'A man, sir,' said he,--and Flood had a semi-sarcastic solemnity always about him,--'a man, sir, who has reversed the law of physics; for he rose by his gravity, and only fell by his lightness.' Very epigrammatic and sharp, that. Ah, Martin, they don't say these things nowadays. By the way, who is the young fellow who dined with us yesterday?"

"His name is Nelligan; the son of one of our Oughterard neighbors."

"Pleasing manners, gentle, too, and observant," said Repton, with the tone of one delivering a judgment to be recorded.

"He's more than that," said Martin; "he is the great prize man of the year in Trinity. You must have surely heard of his name up in town."

"I think somebody did speak of him to me,--recommend him, in some shape or other," said Repton, abstractedly; "these things are so easily forgotten; for, to say the truth, I hold very cheaply all intellectual efforts accomplished by great preparation. The cramming, the grinding, the plodding, the artificial memory work, and the rest of it, detract terribly, in my estimation, from the glory of success. Give me your man of impromptu readiness, never unprepared, never at a loss. The very consciousness of power is double power." And as he spoke he drew himself up, threw his head back, and stared steadfastly at Martin, as though to say, "Such is he who now stands before you."

Martin was amused at the display of vanity, and had there been another there to have partic.i.p.ated in the enjoyment, would have willingly encouraged him to continue the theme; but he was alone, and let it pa.s.s.

"I 'll make a note of that young man. Mulligan, is n't it?"

"Nelligan."

"To be sure. I 'll remember poor Curran's epigram:--

'Oh, pity poor Tom Nelligan!

Who walking down Pall Mall, He slipt his foot, And down he fell, And fears he won't get well again.'

Glorious fellow, sir; the greatest of all the convivialists of his time, was Curran. A host in himself; but, as he once said, you could n't always depend on the 'elevation.'"

Martin smiled faintly; he relished the lawyer's talk, but he felt that it demanded an amount of attention on his part that wearied him.

Anything that cost him trouble was more or less of a "bore;" and he already began to wish for his accustomed ease and indolence.

"Well, Repton," said he, "you wished to see the quarries, I think?"

"To see everything and everybody, sir, and with my own eyes, too. As Lysaght said, when I read the book of nature, 'I let no man note my brief for me.'"

"I thought of being your companion, myself; but somehow, this morning, my old enemy, the gout, is busy again; however, you 'll not regret the exchange, Repton, when I give you in charge to my niece. She 'll be but too happy to do the honors of our poor country to so distinguished a visitor."

"And a very artful plan to put me in good humor with everything," said Repton, laughing. "Well, I consent. I offer myself a willing victim to any amount of seduction. How are we to go?--do we drive, walk, or ride?"

"If Mary be consulted, she'll say ride," said Martin; "but perhaps--"

"I'm for the saddle, too," broke in Repton. "Give me something active and lively, light of mouth and well up before, and I'll show you, as Tom Parsons said, that we can cut as good a figure at the wall as the 'bar.'"