was called,--for a man may be called with very little continuous
work. But after he was called the solitude of his chambers was
too much for him, and at twenty-five he found that the Stock
Exchange was the mart in the world for such talents and energies
as he possessed. What was the nature of his failure during the
year that he went into the city, was know only to himself and his
father,--unless Ferdinand Lopez knew something of it also. But
at six-and-twenty the Stock Exchange was also abandoned; and now,
at eight-and-twenty, Everett Wharton had discovered that a
parliamentary career was that for which nature and his special
genius had intended him. He had probably suggested this to his
father, and had met with some cold rebuff.

Everett Wharton was a good-looking, manly fellow, six feet high,
with broad shoulders with light hair, wearing a large silky bushy
beard, which made him look older than his years, who neither by
his speech nor by his appearance would ever be taken for a fool,
but who showed by the very actions of his body as well as by the
play of his face, that he lacked firmness of purpose. He
certainly was no fool. He had read much, and though he generally
forgot what he read, there were left with him from his readings
certain nebulous lights, begotten by other men's thinking, which
enabled him to talk on most subjects. It cannot be said of him
that he did much thinking for himself;--but he thought what he
thought. He believed of himself that he had gone rather deep
into politics, and that he was entitled to call many statesmen
asses because they did not see the things which he saw. He had
the great question of labour, and all that refers to unions,
strikes, and lock-outs, quite at his fingers' ends. He knew how
the Church of England should be disestablished and recomposed.