Excerpt from The Experience of Life

I was born in the neighbourhood of a country town and in the same neighbourhood the greater part of my life has been passed. That will at once describe to many the style of society, the habits, occupations, hopes, and enjoyments, which have from childhood surrounded me. My grandfather was a banker, one of a family who, for nearly a century, had carried on the same business in the town of Carsdale with credit and honour. Old Mr Mortimer (which is the appellation always associated with my recollections of my grandfather) was a clear-headed, active, speculating man, possessed of that peculiar kind of family pride which is almost inseparable from our exclusive English notions of respectability. He had no ambition in the common meaning of the word no wish to retire from business, and become an idle gentleman living upon his own property. I doubt whether the offer of a baronetcy, or a peerage, would have raised any dormant longings for rank. His banking house was his estate, his unstained reputation and his monied influence were his rank; and when, as was often the case, he found himself courted by persons of high position and eminence, their civilities were received simply as the just tribute of respect which had for years been paid to the respectability of the Mortimers of Garsdale.

With these feelings, it could scarcely have added much to his self-complacency, when his youngest son, Herbert - my father v - soon after entering the army, married the daughter of Sir Thomas Vaughan, a Yorkshire baronet of ancient descent, but small possessions. I have heard that when one of his friends congratulated him on the connection, my grandfather tapped the huge ledger, which always was laid by his side in his bank ing office, and coolly taking a pinch of snuff, said Look back a hundred years the Vaughans have lost, the Mortimers have won which have the most reason to be proud Yet he was pleased, I believe, that my father should marry, for he was his favourite son. He had but two children, and my grandmother had died soon after the birth of Herbert that was perhaps one cause of his great affection for him another might have been the peculiar character of his elder son, Ralph, a character which, though it resembled his own in many respects, still differed from it so much in one or two essential particulars, that I have often marvelled how it could have been possible for two persons of such opposite views to work together as they did for many years.

About the Publisher

Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com

This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.