But the most striking personality among the English residents, and the one Sir John Finch had most to do with, was the Treasurer of the Levant Company at Constantinople, the Honourable (afterwards Sir) Dudley North, younger son of Lord North,--a handsome man of thirty-three, already eminent and destined to be famous. In literary attainments North fell far short of Rycaut and Covel, but in natural intelligence, in initiative, in resource, in tenacity, in self-command, in knowledge of the world, and in the other qualities which conduce to success in life, he was surpassed by no man of his time. His career is one of the most deeply interesting documents that have come down to us from the seventeenth century; even episodes apparently trifling in themselves become full of meaning when viewed in connection with the general character of the times. Like all younger sons Dudley had to carve his own way to independence. One of his brothers went to the Bar,--ending as Lord Keeper of the Great Seal in succession to Sir John Finch’s own brother,--another went into the Church. Dudley might have followed in the footsteps of either. But the Bar required much reading, the Church imposed many restraints. Dudley, not studious enough for the one profession and too lively for the other, revealed at an early age the calling for which Nature designed him. At school, while proving himself a hopeless dunce at book-work, he drove a most profitable trade among the other boys, buying cheap and selling dear. Manifestly commerce was his metier. In seventeenth-century England no social cleavage existed between the world of commerce and the world of the Court. Since Feudalism had expired in the Wars of the Roses, differences of birth had ceased to divide the landed from the moneyed classes. All the county families had their kinsmen in the towns, and the ambition of many a nobleman’s younger son was to become an alderman, to attain which eminence he had to serve his apprenticeship behind the counter and to work with his hands like a menial. The snobbishness which again divides the two worlds in our day did not set in until the latter part of the eighteenth century. It is necessary to emphasise this fact in order to correct an erroneous impression promulgated by brilliant and superficial historians.[67]