“I can read and write, I know the first three rules of arithmetic, and I believe these are about the qualifications that fit a man for a place in the Cabinet.” “You are right, sir. With these, and the facility to talk platitudes in Parliament, a man may go very far and very high in life. I see that you know the world.” Sewell, for a moment, scarcely knew whether to accept the speech as irony or approval; but a sidelong glance showed him that the old man's face had resumed its expression of mingled insolence and vanity, and convinced him that he was now sincere. “The men,” said the Judge, pompously, “who win their way to high station in these days are either the crafty tricksters of party or the gross flatterers of the people; and whenever a man of superior mould is discovered, able to leave his mark on the age, and capable of making his name a memory, they have nothing better to offer him, as their homage, than an entreaty that he would resign his office and retire.” “I go with every word you say, my Lord,” cried Sewell, with a well-acted enthusiasm. “I want no approval, sir; I can sustain my opinions without a following!” A long silence ensued; neither was disposed to speak: at last the Judge said,--and he now spoke in a more kindly tone, divested alike of passion and of vanity,--“Your friends must see if something cannot be done for you, Colonel Sewell. I have little doubt but that you have many and warm friends. I speak not of myself; I am but a broken reed to depend on. Never was there one with less credit with his party. I might go farther, and say, never was there one whose advocacy would be more sure to damage a good cause; therefore exclude _me_ in all questions of your advancement. If you could obliterate our relationship, it might possibly serve you.” “I am too proud of it, my Lord, to think so.” “Well, sir,” said he, with a sigh, “it is possibly a thing a man need not feel ashamed of; at least I hope as much. But we must take the world as it is, and when we want the verdict of public opinion, we must not presume to ask for a special jury. What does that servant want? Will you have the kindness to ask him whom he is looking for?” “It is a visitor's card, my Lord,” said Sewell, handing it to the old man as he spoke. “There is some writing on it. Do me the favor to read it.” Sewell took the card and read, “See Sir B. for me.--Wilmington. Sir Brook Fossbrooke.” The last words Sewell spoke in a voice barely above a whisper, for a deadly sickness came over him, and he swayed to and fro like one about to faint. “What! does he return to the charge?” cried the old man, fiercely. “The Viceroy was a diplomatist once. Might it not have taught him that, after a failure, it would be as well to employ another envoy?” “You have seen this gentleman already, then?” asked Sewell, in a low faint tone. “Yes, sir. We passed an hour and half together,--an hour and half that neither of us will easily forget.”