When Markham was left alone to his meditations, he thought over his follies and weaknesses; and soon came to the conclusion, that though books teach a great deal, they do not teach every thing. His own case was one that perplexed him much more than the cases of any of his clients. Had any one brought and proposed the case to his consideration, asking for his opinion, he would have been able, it may be, to contemplate it deliberately, and offer something in the shape of advice; but as the case was his own, he could not so calmly and coolly study it. None of his books of law-precedents would give him the least assistance. That is a very awkward state of mind to be placed in, when something must be done and nothing can be done.

Myriads of young gentlemen have been much more assiduous in their attentions to various young ladies than Markham had been to Miss Henderson, and have never thought any thing of ceasing those attentions when they felt so inclined. This, however, was not such conduct as Markham could approve, nor such an example as he would willingly follow. He was a very conscientious man. Some have thought him to be almost fastidious in those matters. He was desirous of having a very high character, and wished that his conduct should be such as to need no apologies or excuses or vindications, either on the ground of morals or of intellect. But how to escape in the present instance the reproaches that might cleave to him on a moral ground on one side, or an intellectual on the other, he could not easily and readily see. For if he should in consequence of the attentions which he had paid to Miss Henderson, and by which he had undesignedly given her reason to expect an offer of his hand, actually propose to her and marry her, he felt that he should be making a foolish bargain, and should deserve for his own heedlessness whatever inconveniences might result from the marriage. Or if, as he really had no serious intentions, he should not make the offer of his hand, but gradually decline or drop the acquaintance, then would he be reproached, and not without some show of justice, for having paid unmeaning and deceiving attentions where he had no other motive than merely to amuse himself. This was what he could not bear with any degree of patience. It was absolutely necessary for him to decide soon; for he should of course be under the necessity of soon calling on the Hendersons, or giving up his acquaintance with them altogether.

While he was in this painful, or at least very unpleasant state of hesitation and anxiety, he received a message from his noble patron or friend. This message required Markham's immediate attendance on his lordship, and this immediate attendance was by Markham most cheerfully given.

"My good friend," said his lordship, "when you first returned to England you honored me with a call, but I have seen nothing of you since. You have not found my doors closed to you."

"I was fearful," replied Markham, "that I might by repeating my call seem to be intrusive, and claiming an acquaintance to which I have no right to aspire."

"Nonsense, nonsense," returned his lordship; "it is becoming in a young man to be aspiring: ambition is of itself neither virtue nor vice, its moral quality depends on its accompaniments and means. Never be content with an humble station when it is in your power to gain a higher."

"I was also fearful," said Markham, "that I might encroach on your lordship's valuable time."

"Yes, yes, that is very well," said his lordship in reply; "have a proper regard to time. It looks very important to be full of business; but I think you must know me well enough to see that it is not my forte to ape importance by such tricks. Just at this moment I am not at all busy. I can spare you an hour or two, and I may perhaps therefore encroach upon your time. But I have sent for you to say that I have a situation for you in England; one which will not take you from your friends, nor interfere with your health. If you have ambition, as I trust you have, you may have an opportunity of rising in the world. It is all very well to be content with your situation when you cannot make it better; contentment in any other circumstances is mere idleness and indolence."

Markham bowed assent. The patron then stated the situation which was destined for him, and hinted that it would be desirable that he should have a seat in parliament.

"But that," said his lordship, "we must think of hereafter. In the mean time, let me not take upon myself all the merit of appointing you to this office. I am greatly indebted to Mr. Martindale that he has made me more acquainted with those traits in your character which seem peculiarly to fit you for your present employment. But, my good friend, observe this; I am not recommending you merely to make a market of your situation. Make the best of it if you please; but the surest way to make the best of it is to perform its duties conscientiously."

It was very pleasant to Markham to have a situation of so promising a character presented to him under such agreeable circumstances; and it was very pleasant to him to hear from his noble friend good advice, which was perfectly in unison with his own feelings. His noble friend was well aware of the character and complexion of his mind, and he therefore more readily gave him such advice as he was most likely to follow. That is most excellent policy; it answered the purpose of rendering his lordship agreeable to Markham, and it was a very pleasant and agreeable encouragement to the young man's virtues. Perhaps it is better to seek the improvement of mankind by encouraging their virtues than by reproaching their vices.

Pleasant, however, as this new honor was to Markham, it brought with it one inconvenience, inasmuch as it did not by any means promise to diminish, but rather threatened to increase Miss Henderson's tender regards towards him. The young gentleman could not help thinking how happy he should be, if by any means he could but extricate himself honorably and satisfactorily from his unpleasant and perplexing situation as regarded this young lady. It is, we firmly believe, a fact, that many persons owe their marriages to circumstances more than to any deliberate and decided act of their own. Of the multitudes of ill-assorted couples it is often said, "Who would have thought it!" Who, indeed! Nobody. They are even astonished at themselves. And if Markham had not been roused by Mr. Martindale's information from his dreams and slumbers, he would have been gradually and surely led step by step to a marriage with Miss Henderson; and when he had been married about ten years, he would have wondered how he came to be married, and would have forgotten all the particulars of the courtship.

It turned out as Markham had expected. Miss Henderson was more loving and affectionate than ever. For as soon as it could possibly transpire that Markham was appointed to the situation above alluded to, the young lady was in possession of the information; and not waiting for the formality of a call from her "dear Markham," she despatched to the young gentleman a letter of congratulation on his honors. Much surprised indeed was he to see upon his table one morning, a neatly-folded note directed "Horatio Markham, Esq. Inner Temple." Surprised was he to see the hand-writing which he knew to be Miss Henderson's. With no very agreeable emotions did he open it, and with no very pleasant feeling did he read it. It was written in a very beautiful and delicate hand, but with all its beauties, it had no charms for him. We hope our readers will be more entertained with it than he was, otherwise we shall waste our time in recording it. Thus it read:

"You will not be much surprised, my dear friend, at receiving a letter of congratulation from me on your appointment. Merit is not always overlooked. Happy is it for our country, that there are sometimes in the ministry men of integrity and discernment. Pa is quite delighted at the thought of your good fortune. He says, and I believe him, that no man better deserves it, and that no man will or can better discharge the duties of that situation. But have you forgot us, my dearest friend? You have not favored us with one single call since your return from the circuit. Now I mention the circuit, let me thank you in the name and on the behalf of the sex in general, for your most excellent and powerful speech in the celebrated action for breach of promise. Every body talked about it; it gave universal satisfaction and delight. Oh! if such pure principles as yours were more common, fewer would be the broken hearts, and fewer the miseries of our weak confiding sex. But I must not detain you from your important avocations by my foolish scribbling, I bid you therefore adieu for the present, hoping soon to enjoy the felicity of seeing you again, if you can spare a moment for so insignificant a being as

Rebecca Henderson."

This letter was not very argumentative, but Markham felt it to be unanswerable: and as the young gentleman was not addicted to swearing, he did not curse his ill fortune; and as he was not a believer in astrology, he said not a word in blame of his stars. But he thought he had been making a fool of himself; and he also thought, that if he did not make himself a greater fool, the world would be apt to say that he had made a fool of Miss Henderson. The world is a difficult thing to manage. It never knows when it is pleased; it quarrels with us for trifles, blames for virtues, urges us to folly, laughs at our perplexities, cares nothing for our misfortunes, and sets us into a state of fermentation and agitation we scarcely know what about. Markham had a great respect for the world, because he wished the world to have some respect for him. Morally speaking, it is very good to have some regard to the world's opinion; it is the religion of a great majority of the human species. It keeps in awe and good order many a one who would otherwise run out into great and grievous extravagancies. Markham, for a man of conscience, was rather too much devoted to the idolatry of the world's opinion: he was so unreasonable as to wish to have the world's good opinion, and his own too. This made him frequently anxious and uneasy. He certainly could have escaped from his present dilemma without much difficulty, if he had not been strongly moved by the thought of what the world would say. That influenced him most powerfully. He was grieved at the idea, that he must be subject to reproach, or undergo captivity for life. If he had consulted his own conscience, that would have told him, that as he had no intention whatever to make an impression on the heart of Miss Henderson, so he had no obligation to offer her his hand, because she had offered him her heart. He thought, or he might have thought, that it was possible that there might have been two ladies situated as Miss Henderson, and both might have complimented him on his talents and virtues, and good success in life, and both might have fancied that his civilities had meant more than they actually were designed to mean; he could not marry them both. Let those of our readers who fancy that Markham was to blame in his wishing to be rid of this incumbrance, consider the possibility of two persons forming an attachment to him from attentions not designed to be, and in themselves really not, particular, they could not both have a claim to his hand; and the same argument which would vindicate the desertion of one would vindicate the desertion, or to use a milder term, the relinquishment of both. This lesson, however, may be learned by both sexes from the present situation of Markham, viz., that young gentlemen should be very careful how they pay attentions to young ladies, and young ladies should be as careful how they receive those attentions. Indeed, we would recommend young ladies by no means to fall in love till the question has been put. Then let them fall in love as violently as they please, only let them take care even then not to make too great a display of that love. Young gentlemen also should recollect that there are some young ladies who misinterpret attentions, and take that to be particular which is only general. It has been, that if you look at an Irish lady at table, she will say, "Port if you plase." Thus there are some young ladies in this kingdom who sadly misinterpret looks and fine speeches. There is, however, this consolation in such cases, that the old vulgar proverb, "Lightly come, lightly go," is very applicable to them; and, therefore, though they may be in a violent passion at the loss of an imaginary or imagined lover, they can soon find another.

It would have been very much to Markham's comfort, could he but have known how heroically Miss Henderson transferred Mr. Tippetson to Clara; and how calmly her heart made the transition of its affections from Mr. Tippetson to himself. Then, indeed, he could conscientiously have slipped away by the means of a short absence, and a little cessation of attention, knowing or strongly presuming, that his place would be very soon supplied. But all this he did not know, and all this he did not suspect, and all this he could hardly have believed, had any one told him. In all his multifarious readings about precedents and conveyancing, he had not met with a precedent for such conveyancing as this. He, poor youth, in the simplicity of his soul, thought that Miss Henderson must either become Mrs. Markham, or die of a broken heart; and he would have been very sorry for either of these calamities. The only consolation that he could find under present circumstances was, that perhaps by some unexpected turn of affairs, an opportunity might be afforded him by which he might be extricated from his present difficulties. Thus we remember to have seen some twenty years ago, a comedy in which was introduced a character called Sir Abel Handy, and this Sir Abel Handy was a very ingenious man in his own estimation, full of contrivances, which might rival the philosophers of Laputa; but these contrivances in general had some unlucky flaw or defect, which rendered them altogether useless. Thus, when in the course of the piece, news is brought that a house is on fire, one of the characters asks Sir Abel Handy, where is his machine or contrivance for putting out fire at a moment's notice. Unfortunately this machine is by some untoward accident not in order, or not forthcoming; and Sir Abel Handy being a wise man, and like all other wise men not liking to look foolish, says, "Oh, never mind, I have hit upon a plan to put the fire out."—"What is that?"—"Why perhaps it may go out of itself." We like this plan very much, and so did Markham, for it was the only hope he had.