The Wizard's Son, Vol. 2 (of 3)Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
General
The Wizard's Son, Vol. 2 (of 3)
Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
Great Britain -- Fiction; Inheritance and succession -- Fiction; Supernatural -- Fiction
and that sense of neglected merit which is one of the most exquisite
pangs of youth, that nobody cared to make his acquaintance, or even to
inquire who was Lord Erradeen! It is all very well to smile at these
sentiments where there has been no temptation to entertain them. But the
young peer, who knew nobody, entered completely into Byron's feelings.
He pondered upon the extraordinary spectacle of that other young peer
strolling haughtily, with his look like a fallen angel, up between the
lordly ranks to take his hereditary seat: all the representatives of the
old world staring coldly at him, and not one to be his sponsor and
introduce him there. The same thing Walter felt would have to happen in
his own case, if he had courage enough to follow the example of Byron;
and he felt how hollow were all his honours, how mean the indifferent
spectators round him, how little appreciated himself, with all the
keenness of youthful passion and would-be cynicism. Unfortunately, he
was not a Byron, and had no way of revenging himself upon that world.
This curious and irritating discovery, after all his good resolutions,
had, it need scarcely be said, the reverse of an elevating influence
upon him. He sought the amusement from which his equals shut him out in
other regions. Strolling about town in an aimless way, he picked up
certain old acquaintances whose renewed friendship was of little
advantage. There will always be black sheep everywhere, and it is no
unprecedented case for a boy from a public school, or youth from the
university, to come across, six or seven years after he has left these
haunts of learning, stray wanderers, who in that little time have fallen
to the very depth of social degradation. When such a thing happens to a
young man, the result may be a noble pity and profound impression of
life's unspeakable dangers, and the misery of vice; or it may be after
the first shock a sense that his own peccadilloes are not worth thinking
of, seeing how infinitely lower down others have fallen. Walter stood
between these two. He was sincerely sorry, and anxious to succour the
fallen; but at the same time he could not but feel that in his position,
who never could come to that, the precautions which poor men had to take
were scarcely necessary. And what could he do? A young man must have
something to amuse himself and occupy his time.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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