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ONE OF OUR CONQUERORS - COMPLETE ONE OF OUR CONQUERORS - COMPLETE GEORGE MEREDITH 1897 CONTENTS:
BOOK 1. I. ACROSS LONDON BRIDGE II. THROUGH THE VAGUE TO THE INFINITELY LITTLE III. OLD VEUVE IV. THE SECOND BOTTLE V. THE LONDON WALK WESTWARD VI. NATALY VII. BETWEEN A GENERAL MAN OF THE WORLD AND A PROFESSIONAL VIII. SOME FAMILIAR GUESTS. IX. AN INSPECTION OF LAKELANDS X. SKEPSEY IN MOTION XI. WHEREIN WE BEHOLD THE COUPLE JUSTIFIED OF LOVE HAVING SIGHT OF THEIR SCOURGE BOOK 2. XII. TREATS OF THE DUMBNESS POSSIBLE WITH MEMBERS OF A HOUSEHOLD HAVING ONE HEART XIII. THE LATEST OF MRS. BURMAN XIV. DISCLOSES A STAGE ON THE DRIVE TO PARIS XV. A PATRIOT ABROAD XVI. ACCOUNTS FOR SKEPSEY'S MISCONDUCT SHOWING HOW IT AFFECTED NATALY XVII. CHIEFLY UPON THE THEME OF A YOUNG MAID'S IMAGININGS XVIII. SUITORS FOR THE HAND OF NESTA VICTORIA BOOK 3. XIX. TREATS OF NATURE AND CIRCUMSTANCE AND THE DISSENSION BETWEEN THEM AND OF A SATIRIST'S MALIGNITY IN THE DIRECTION OF HIS COUNTRY XX. THE GREAT ASSEMBLY AT LAKELAND XXI. DARTREY FENELLAN XXII. CONCERNS THE INTRUSION OF JARNIMAN XXIII. TREATS OF THE LADIES' LAPDOG TASSO FOR AN INSTANCE OF MOMENTOUS EFFECTS PRODUCED BY VERY MINOR CAUSES XXIV. NESTA'S ENGAGEMENT BOOK 4. XXV. NATALY IN ACTION XXVI. IN WHICH WE SEE A CONVENTIONAL GENTLE MAN ENDEAVOURING TO EXAMINE A SPECTRE OF HIMSELF XXVII. CONTAINS WHAT IS A SMALL THING OR A GREAT AS THE SOUL OF THE CHIEF ACTOR MAY DECIDE XXVIII. MRS. MARSETT XXIX. SHOWS ONE OF THE SHADOWS OF THE WORLD CROSSING A VIRGIN'S MIND XXX. THE BURDEN UPON NESTA XXXI. SHOWS HOW THE SQUIRES IN A CONQUEROR'S SERVICE HAVE AT TIMES TO DO KNIGHTLY CONQUEST OF THEMSELVES XXXII. SHOWS HOW TEMPER MAY KINDLE TEMPER AND AN INDIGNANT WOMAN GET HER WEAPON XXXIII. A PAIR OF WOOERS XXXIV. CONTAINS DEEDS UNRELATED AND EXPOSITIONS OF FEELINGS XXXV. IN WHICH AGAIN WE MAKE USE OF THE OLD LAMPS FOR LIGHTING AN ABYSMAL DARKNESS BOOK 5. XXXVI. NESTA AND HER FATHER XXXVII. THE MOTHER--THE DAUGHTER XXXVIII. NATALY NESTA AND DARTREY FENELLAN XXXIX. A CHAPTER IN THE SHADOW OF MRS. MARSETT XL. AN EXPIATION XLI. THE NIGHT OF THE GREAT UNDELIVERED SPEECH XLII. THE LAST ONE OF OUR CONQUERORS BOOK 1. I. ACROSS LONDON BRIDGE II. THROUGH THE VAGUE TO THE INFINITELY LITTLE III. OLD VEUVE IV. THE SECOND BOTTLE V. THE LONDON WALK WESTWARD VI. NATALY VII. BETWEEN A GENERAL MAN OF THE WORLD AND A PROFESSIONAL VIII. SOME FAMILIAR GUESTS. IX. AN INSPECTION OF LAKELANDS X. SKEPSEY IN MOTION CHAPTER I ACROSS LONDON BRIDGE A gentleman noteworthy for a lively countenance and a waistcoat to match it crossing London Bridge at noon on a gusty April day was almost magically detached from his conflict with the gale by some sly strip of slipperiness abounding in that conduit of the markets which had more or less adroitly performed the trick upon preceding passengers and now laid this one flat amid the shuffle of feet peaceful for the moment as the uncomplaining who have gone to Sabrina beneath the tides. He was unhurt quite sound merely astonished he remarked in reply to the inquiries of the first kind helper at his elbow; and it appeared an acceptable statement of his condition. He laughed shook his coat-tails smoothed the back of his head rather thoughtfully thankfully received his runaway hat nodded bright beams to right and left and making light of the muddy stigmas imprinted by the pavement he scattered another shower of his nods and smiles around to signify that as his good friends would wish he thoroughly felt his legs and could walk unaided. And he was in the act of doing it questioning his familiar behind the waistcoat amazedly to tell him how such a misadventure could have occurred to him of all men when a glance below his chin discomposed his outward face. 'Oh confound the fellow!' he said with simple frankness and was humorously ruffled having seen absurd blots of smutty knuckles distributed over the maiden waistcoat. His outcry was no more than the confidential communication of a genial spirit with that distinctive article of his attire. At the same time for these friendly people about him to share the fun of the annoyance he looked hastily brightly back seeming with the contraction of his brows to frown on the little band of observant Samaritans; in the centre of whom a man who knew himself honourably unclean perhaps consequently a bit of a political jewel hearing one of their number confounded for his pains and by the wearer of a superfine dashing-white waistcoat was moved to take notice of the total deficiency of gratitude in this kind of gentleman's look and pocket. If we ask for nothing for helping gentlemen to stand upright on their legs and get it we expect civility into the bargain. Moreover there are reasons in nature why we choose to give sign of a particular surliness when our wealthy superiors would have us think their condescending grins are cordials. The gentleman's eyes were followed on a second hurried downward grimace the necessitated wrinkles of which could be stretched by malevolence to a semblance of haughty disgust; reminding us through our readings in journals of the wicked overblown Prince Regent and his Court together with the view taken of honest labour in the mind of supercilious luxury even if indebted to it freshly for a trifle; and the hoar-headed nineteenth-century billow of democratic ire craved the word to be set swelling. 'Am I the fellow you mean sir?' the man said. He was answered not ungraciously: 'All right my man.' But the balance of our public equanimity is prone to violent antic bobbings on occasions when for example an ostentatious garment shall appear disdainful our class and ourself and coin of the realm has not usurped command of one of the scales: thus a fairly pleasant answer cast in persuasive features provoked the retort: 'There you're wrong; nor wouldn't be.' 'What's that?' was the gentleman's musical inquiry. 'That's flat as you was half a minute ago' the man rejoined. 'Ah well don't be impudent' the gentleman said by way of amiable remonstrance before a parting. 'And none of your dam punctilio' said the man. Their exchange rattled smartly without a direct hostility and the gentleman stepped forward. It was observed in the crowd that after a few paces he put two fingers on the back of his head. They might suppose him to be condoling with his recent mishap. But in fact a thing had occurred to vex him more than a descent upon the pavement or damage to his waistcoat's whiteness: he abominated the thought of an altercation with a member of the mob; he found that enormous beat comprehensible only when it applauded him; and besides he wished it warmly well; all that was good for it; plentiful dinners country excursions stout menagerie bars music a dance and to bed: he was for patting stroking petting the mob for tossing it sops never for irritating it to show an eye-tooth much less for causing it to exhibit the grinders: and in endeavouring to get at the grounds of his dissension with that dirty-fisted fellow the recollection of the word punctilio shot a throb of pain to the spot where his mishap had rendered him susceptible. Headache threatened--and to him of all men! But was there ever such a word for drumming on a cranium? Puzzles are presented to us now and then in the course of our days; and the smaller they are the better for the purpose it would seem; and they come in rattle-boxes they are actually children's toys for what they contain but not the less do they buzz at our understandings and insist that they break or we and in either case to show a mere foolish idle rattle in hollowness. Or does this happen to us only after a fall? He tried a suspension of his mental efforts and the word was like the clapper of a disorderly bell striking through him with reverberations in the form of interrogations as to how he of all men living could by any chance have got into a wrangle in a thoroughfare on London Bridge of all places in the world!--he so popular renowned for his affability his amiability; having no dislike to common dirty dogs entirely the reverse liking them and doing his best for them; and accustomed to receive their applause. And in what way had he offered a hint to bring on him the charge of punctilio? 'But I am treating it seriously!' he said and jerked a dead laugh while fixing a button of his coat. That he should have treated it seriously furnished next the subject of cogitation; and here it was plainly suggested that a degradation of his physical system owing to the shock of the fall must be seen and acknowledged; for it had become a perverted engine to pull him down among the puerilities and very soon he was worrying at punctilio anew attempting to read the riddle of the application of it to himself angry that he had allowed it to be the final word and admitting it a famous word for the closing of a controversy:--it banged the door and rolled drum-notes; it deafened reason. And was it a London cockney crow-word of the day or a word that had stuck in the fellow's head from the perusal of his pothouse newspaper columns? Furthermore the plea of a fall and the plea of a shock from a fall required to account for the triviality of the mind were humiliating to him who had never hitherto missed a step or owned to the shortest of collapses. This confession of deficiency in explosive repartee--using a friend's term for the ready gift--was an old and a rueful one with Victor Radnor. His godmother Fortune denied him that. She bestowed it on his friend Fenellan and little else. Simeon Fenellan could clap the halter on a coltish mob; he had positively caught the roar of cries and stilled it by capping the cries in turn until the people cheered him; and the effect of the scene upon Victor Radnor disposed him to rank the gift of repartee higher than a certain rosily oratorical that he was permitted to tell himself he possessed in bottle if not on draught. Let it only be explosive repartee: the well-fused bomb the bubble to the stone echo round the horn. Fenellan would have discharged an extinguisher on punctilio in emission. Victor Radnor was unable to cope with it reflectively. No but one doesn't like being beaten by anything! he replied to an admonishment of his better mind as he touched his two fingers more significantly dubious than the whole hand at the back of his head and checked or stemmed the current of a fear. For he was utterly unlike himself; he was dwelling on a trifle on a matter discernibly the smallest an incident of the streets; and although he refused to feel a bump or any responsive notification of a bruise he made a sacrifice of his native pride to his intellectual in granting that he must have been shaken so childishly did he continue thinking. Yes well and if a tumble distorts our ideas of life and an odd word engrosses our speculations we are poor creatures he addressed another friend from whom he stood constitutionally in dissent naming him Colney; and under pressure of the name reviving old wrangles between them upon man's present achievements and his probable destinies: especially upon England's grandeur vitality stability her intelligent appreciation of her place in the universe; not to speak of the historic dignity of London City. Colney had to be overcome afresh and he fled but managed with two or three of his bitter phrases to make a cuttle-fish fight of it that oppressively shadowed his vanquisher: The Daniel Lambert of Cities: the Female Annuitant of Nations:--and such like wretched stuff proper to Colney Durance easily dispersed and out- laughed when we have our vigour. We have as much as we need of it in summoning a contemptuous Pooh to our lips with a shrug at venomous dyspepsia. Nevertheless a malignant sketch of Colney's in the which Hengist and Horsa our fishy Saxon originals in modern garb of liveryman and gaitered squire flat-headed paunchy assiduously servile are shown blacking Ben-Israel's boots and grooming the princely stud of the Jew had come so near to Victor Radnor's apprehensions of a possible if not an impending consummation that the ghastly vision of the Jew Dominant in London City over England over Europe America the world (a picture drawn in literary sepia by Colney: with our poor hang neck population uncertain about making a bell-rope of the forelock to the Satyr-snouty master; and the Norman Lord de Warenne handing him for a lump sum son and daughter both to be Hebraized in their different ways) fastened on the most mercurial of patriotic men and gave him a whole-length plunge into despondency. It lasted nearly a minute. His recovery was not in this instance due to the calling on himself for the rescue of an ancient and glorious country; nor altogether to the spectacle of the shipping over the parapet to his right: the hundreds of masts rising out of the merchant river; London's unrivalled mezzotint and the City' rhetorician's inexhaustible argument: he gained it rather from the imperious demand of an animated and thirsty frame for novel impressions. Commonly he was too hot with his business and airy fancies above it when crossing the bridge to reflect in freshness on its wonders; though a phrase could spring him alive to them; a suggestion of the Foreigner jealous condemned to admire in despair of outstripping like Satan worsted; or when a Premier's fine inflation magnified the scene at City banquets--exciting while audible if a waggery in memory; or when England's cherished Bard the Leading Article blew bellows and wind primed the lieges. That a phrase on any other subject was of much the same effect in relation to it may be owned; he was lightly kindled. The scene however had a sharp sparkle of attractiveness at the instant. Down went the twirling horizontal pillars of a strong tide from the arches of the bridge breaking to wild water at a remove; and a reddish Northern cheek of curdling pipeing East at shrilly puffs between the Tower and the Custom House encountered it to whip and ridge the flood against descending tug and long tail of stern-ajerk empty barges; with a steamer slowly noseing round off the wharf-cranes preparing to swirl the screw; and half-bottom-upward boats dancing harpooner beside their whale; along an avenue not fabulously golden of the deputy masts of all nations a wintry woodland every rag aloft curling to volume; and here the spouts and the mounds of steam and rolls of brown smoke there variously undulated curved to vanish; cold blue sky ashift with the whirl and dash of a very Tartar cavalry of cloud overhead. Surely a scene pretending to sublimity? Gazeing along that grand highway of the voyageing forest your London citizen of good estate has reproached his country's poets for not pouring out succinctly and melodiously his multitudinous larvae of notions begotten by the scene. For there are times when he would pay to have them sung; and he feels them big; he thinks them human in their bulk; they are Londinensian; they want but form and fire to get them scored on the tablets of the quotable at festive boards. This he can promise to his poets. As for otherwhere than at the festive Commerce invoked is a Goddess that will have the reek of those boards to fill her nostrils and poet and alderman alike may be dedicate to the sublime she leads them after two sniffs of an idea concerning her for the dive into the turtle- tureen. Heels up they go poet first--a plummet he! And besides it is barely possible for our rounded citizen in the mood of meditation to direct his gaze off the bridge along the waterway North- eastward without beholding as an eye the glow of whitebait's bow-window by the riverside to the front of the summer sunset a league or so down stream; where he sees in memory savours the Elysian end of Commerce: frontispiece of a tale to fetch us up the out-wearied spectre of old Apicius; yea and urge Crispinus to wheel his purse into the market for the purchase of a costlier mullet! But is the Jew of the usury gold becoming our despot-king of Commerce? In that case we do not ask our country's poets to compose a single stanza of eulogy's rhymes--far from it. Far to the contrary we bid ourselves remember the sons of whom we are; instead of revelling in the fruits of Commerce we shoot scornfully past those blazing bellied windows of the aromatic dinners and beyond Thames away to the fishermen's deeps Old England's native element where the strenuous ancestry of a race yet and ever manful at the stress of trial are heard around and aloft whistling us back to the splendid strain of muscle and spray fringes cloud and strong heart rides the briny scoops and hillocks and Death and Man are at grip for the haul. There we find our nationality our poetry no Hebrew competing. We do: or there at least we left it. Whether to recover it when wanted is not so certain. Humpy Hengist and dumpy Horsa quitting ledger and coronet might recur to their sea bowlegs and red-stubble chins might take to their tarpaulins again; they might renew their manhood on the capture of cod; headed by Harald and Hardiknut they might roll surges to whelm a Dominant Jew clean gone to the fleshpots and effeminacy. Aldermen of our ancient conception they may teach him that he has been backsliding once more and must repent in ashes as those who are for jewels titles essences banquets for wallowing in slimy spawn of lucre have ever to do. They dispossess him of his greedy gettings. And how of the Law? But the Law is always and must ever be the Law of the stronger. --Ay but brain beats muscle and what if the Jew should prove to have superior power of brain? A dreaded hypothesis! Why then you see the insurgent Saxon seamen (of the names in two syllables with accent on the first) and their Danish captains and it may be but a remnant of high- nosed old Norman Lord de Warenne beside them in the criminal box: and presently the Jew smoking a giant regalia cigar on a balcony giving view of a gallows-tree. But we will try that: on our side to back a native pugnacity is morality humanity fraternity--nature's rights aha! and who withstands them? on his a troop of mercenaries! And that lands me in Red Republicanism a hop and a skip from Socialism! said Mr. Radnor and chuckled ironically at the natural declivity he had come to. Still there was an idea in it . . . . A short run or attempt at running after the idea ended in pain to his head near the spot where the haunting word punctilio caught at any excuse for clamouring. Yet we cannot relinquish an idea that was ours; we are vowed to the pursuit of it. Mr. Radnor lighted on the tracks by dint of a thought flung at his partner Mr. Inchling's dread of the Jews. Inchling dreaded Scotchmen as well and Americans and Armenians and Greeks: latterly Germans hardly less; but his dread of absorption in Jewry signifying subjection had often precipitated a deplorable shrug in which Victor Radnor now perceived the skirts of his idea even to a fancy that something of the idea must have struck Inchling when he shrugged: the idea being . . . he had lost it again. Definition seemed to be an extirpation enemy of this idea or she was by nature shy. She was very feminine; coming when she willed and flying when wanted. Not until nigh upon the close of his history did she return full-statured and embraceable to Victor Radnor. CHAPTER II THROUGH THE VAGUE TO THE INFINITELY LITTLE The fair dealing with readers demands of us that a narrative shall not proceed at slower pace than legs of a man in motion; and we are still but little more than midway across London Bridge. But if a man's mind is to be taken as a part of him the likening of it at an introduction to an army on the opening march of a great campaign should plead excuses for tardy forward movements in consideration of the large amount of matter you have to review before you can at all imagine yourselves to have made his acquaintance. This it is not necessary to do when you are set astride the enchanted horse of the Tale which leaves the man's mind at home while he performs the deeds befitting him: he can indeed be rapid. Whether more active is a question asking for your notions of the governing element in the composition of man and of hid present business here. The Tale inspirits one's earlier ardours when we sped without baggage when the Impossible was wings to imagination and heroic sculpture the simplest act of the chisel. It does not advance 'tis true; it drives the whirligig circle round and round the single existing ...
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