as an example to his successor. Neither warning nor example
seems to have been effective. Mark went to London, with an
allowance from his patron, and (it is generally agreed) made
acquaintance with the money-lenders. He was supposed, by his
patron and any others who inquired, to be "writing"; but what he
wrote, other than letters asking for more time to pay, has never
been discovered. However, he attended the theatres and music
halls very regularly--no doubt with a view to some serious
articles in the "Spectator" on the decadence of the English
stage.

Fortunately (from Mark's point of view) his patron died during
his third year in London, and left him all the money he wanted.
From that moment his life loses its legendary character, and
becomes more a matter of history. He settled accounts with the
money-lenders, abandoned his crop of wild oats to the harvesting
of others, and became in his turn a patron. He patronized the
Arts. It was not only usurers who discovered that Mark Ablett no
longer wrote for money; editors were now offered free
contributions as well as free lunches; publishers were given
agreements for an occasional slender volume, in which the author
paid all expenses and waived all royalties; promising young
painters and poets dined with him; and he even took a theatrical
company on tour, playing host and "lead" with equal lavishness.

He was not what most people call a snob. A snob has been defined
carelessly as a man who loves a lord; and, more carefully, as a
mean lover of mean things--which would be a little unkind to the
peerage if the first definition were true. Mark had his vanities
undoubtedly, but he would sooner have met an actor-manager than