Now, though Philip Martindale was a gentleman of very fashionable manners, and perfectly informed and well instructed as to all the forms and modes of fashionable address, yet his knowledge was simply that of forms and modes; he had no natural intuition; no native and unbought perception of abstract propriety and unchangeable good manners. Of mind and its movements he was totally ignorant; he knew what was fashionable as well as any man; even at the cockpit or the ring, though dressed like a groom, he was known to be a gentleman. Thus it is that those who belong to a certain class are always known and recognised by their inimitable and untranscribable manners, having only to do with externals, they are perfect in them. The less intellect they have, the more skilful are they in the art; even as parrots most faithfully utter the words which they are taught, because reflection supplies them with none other. But such parrot-like politeness would not answer with such a man as old John Martindale. Any thing common-place was his aversion and abomination. It required peculiar tact and skill to manage him; and this skill the Hon. Philip Martindale did not possess in a very eminent degree. When therefore the young gentleman began to mutter forth some affected contradiction to what Mr. John Martindale had been pleased to say of himself, the latter hastily interrupted him. “Pish, nonsense; none of your foolish complimenting. I was a fool to build the house, and I should be a greater fool to live in it. I shall find some simpleton with more money than wit, who may be glad to buy it at half the money which it cost me to build it. Well, now you are in town, you may as well stay with us, if you are not too proud to patronise my relations. You will find them very sensible, well-informed people, though they have no title.”