LORD RABY--one of the wealthiest and most splendid noblemen in
England--was prouder, perhaps, of his provincial distinctions than the
eminence of his rank or the fashion of his wife. The magnificent
chateaux, the immense estates, of our English peers tend to preserve to
us in spite of the freedom, bustle, and commercial grandeur of our people
more of the Norman attributes of aristocracy than can be found in other
countries. In his county, the great noble is a petty prince; his house
is a court; his possessions and munificence are a boast to every
proprietor in his district. They are as fond of talking of _the_ earl's
or _the_ duke's movements and entertainments, as Dangeau was of the
gossip of the Tuileries and Versailles.

Lord Raby, while affecting, as lieutenant of the county, to make no
political distinctions between squire and squire--hospitable and affable
to all--still, by that very absence of exclusiveness, gave a tone to the
politics of the whole county; and converted many who had once thought
differently on the respective virtues of Whigs and Tories. A great man
never loses so much as when he exhibits intolerance, or parades the right
of persecution.

"My tenants shall vote exactly as they please," said Lord Raby; and he
was never known to have a tenant vote against his wishes! Keeping a
vigilant eye on all the interests, and conciliating all the proprietors,
in the county, he not only never lost a friend, but he kept together a
body of partisans that constantly added to its numbers.

Sir John Merton's colleague, a young Lord Nelthorpe, who could not speak
three sentences if you took away his hat, and who, constant at Almack's,
was not only inaudible but invisible in parliament, had no chance of