Pelham — Volume 04Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
History
Pelham — Volume 04
Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
Adventure stories; English fiction -- 19th century; Great Britain -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction
"I understand you," answered I; "you mean that I talk too much; it is
true--I own the offence--nothing is so unpopular! Even I, the civilest,
best natured, most unaffected person in all Europe, am almost disliked,
positively disliked, for that sole and simple crime. Ah! the most beloved
man in society is that deaf and dumb person, comment s'appelle-t-il?"
"Yes," said Lady Roseville, "Popularity is a goddess best worshipped by
negatives; and the fewer claims one has to be admired, the more
pretensions one has to be beloved."
"Perfectly true, in general," said I--"for instance, I make the rule, and
you the exception. I, a perfect paragon, am hated because I am one; you,
a perfect paragon, are idolized in spite of it. But tell me what literary
news is there. I am tired of the trouble of idleness, and in order to
enjoy a little dignified leisure, intend to set up as a savant."
"Oh, Lady C--B--is going to write a Commentary on Ude; and Madame de
Genlis a Proof of the Apocrypha. The Duke of N--e is publishing a
Treatise on 'Toleration;'and Lord L--y an Essay on 'Self-knowledge.'As
for news more remote, I hear that the Dey of Algiers is finishing an 'Ode
to Liberty,'and the College of Caffraria preparing a volume of voyages to
the North Pole!"
"Now," said I, "if I retail this information with a serious air, I will
lay a wager that I find plenty of believers; for falsehood, uttered
solemnly, is much more like probability than truth uttered doubtingly:
else how do the priests of Brama and Mahomet live?"
"Ah! now you grow too profound, Mr. Pelham!"
"C'est vrai--but--"
"Tell me," interrupted Lady Roseville, "how it happens that you, who talk
eruditely enough upon matters of erudition, should talk so lightly upon
matters of levity?"
"Why," said I, rising to depart, "very great minds are apt to think that
all which they set any value upon, is of equal importance. Thus Hesiod,
who, you know, was a capital poet, though rather an imitator of
Shenstone, tells us that God bestowed valour on some men, and on others a
genius for dancing. It was reserved for me, Lady Roseville, to unite the
two perfections. Adieu!"
"Thus," said I, when I was once more alone--"thus do we 'play the fools
with the time,'until Fate brings that which is better than folly; and,
standing idly upon the sea-shore, till we can catch the favouring wind
which is to waft the vessel of our destiny to enterprise and fortune,
amuse ourselves with the weeds and the pebbles which are within our
reach!"
CHAPTER XLVI.
There was a youth who, as with toil and travel,
Had grown quite weak and grey before his time;
Nor any could the restless grief unravel,
Which burned within him, withering up his prime,
And goading him, like fiends, from land to land.
--P. B. Shelley.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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