ced, and yielded, though with a bitter pang. It is hard
for a man whose fathers have lived on the soil to give up all trace
of their whereabouts. But none saw in him any morbid consciousness of
change of fortune, when, a year after his father's death, he reassumed
his place in society. If before courted for his expectations, he was
still courted for himself; by many of the great who had loved his
father, perhaps even courted more.

He resigned the diplomatic career, not merely because the rise in
that profession is slow, and in the intermediate steps the chances of
distinction are slight and few, but more because he desired to cast
his lot in the home country, and regarded the courts of other lands as
exile.

It was not true, however, as Lemercier had stated on report, that he
lived on his pen. Curbing all his old extravagant tastes, L500 a year
amply supplied his wants. But he had by his pen gained distinction,
and created great belief in his abilities for a public career. He had
written critical articles, read with much praise, in periodicals of
authority, and had published one or two essays on political questions
which had created yet more sensation. It was only the graver literature,
connected more or less with his ultimate object of a public career, in
which he had thus evinced his talents of composition. Such writings were
not of a nature to bring him much money, but they gave him a definite
and solid station. In the old time, before the first Reform Bill, his
reputation would have secured him at once a seat in Parliament; but
the ancient nurseries of statesmen are gone, and their place is not
supplied.

He had been invited, however, to stand for more than one large and
populous borough, with very fair prospects of success; and, whatever the
expense, Mr. King had offered to defray it. But Graham would not have
incurred the latter obligation; and when he learned the pledges which
his supporters would have exacted, he would not have stood if success
had been certain and the cost nothing. "I cannot," he said to his
friends, "go into the consideration of what is best for the country with
my thoughts manacled; and I cannot be both representative and slave
of the greatest ignorance of the greatest number. I bide my time, and
meanwhile I prefer to write as I please, rather than vote as I don't
please."

Three years went by, passed chiefly in England, partly in travel; and at
the age of thirty, Graham Vane was still