Maltby

“ And, indeed, sorry as Dr Prosser was that he should miss seeing his old lady friends, he was satisfied that their place would be well supplied by the vicar’s sister.
Miss Maltby was considerably older than her brother, and had been almost in the position of a parent to him when he had, in his early life, lost his own mother. She was one of those invaluable single women, not uncommon in the middle rank of society in England, whose sterling excellences are more widely felt than openly appreciated. ”

“ Maltby is wondrous tall, and Pakenham has had the diversion long-looked-for of seeing "Maltby hand Maria in to dinner." Mr. Maltby is a very gentlemanlike man, every inch of him, many as they are, and very conversable—really conversable, he both hears and talks, and follows and leads. ”

“ MALTBY, EDWARD (1770–1859) , bishop of Durham, was born in the parish of St. George of Tombland, Norwich, on 6 April 1770, and baptised on 8 April by Samuel Bourn (1714–1796) [q. v.] His father, George Maltby (d. August 1794, aged 64) , was a master weaver and deacon of the presbyterian congregation at the Octagon Chapel. His first cousin William [q. v.] is noticed below. In 1779 Maltby entered the Norwich grammar school, under Samuel Parr [q. v.] ; he was at the head of the school in 1785, when Parr resigned, and on Parr's advice he was then sent to Winchester, under Joseph Warton. ”

“ So well, indeed, that even if he had intended permitting Lady Maltby to proceed to Shallop without him, she would not have let him go. The poor woman clung to him, as women in their hour of need always cling to the strong man near them.
They found Sir William coming back to consciousness—a condition which, though fortunate for him, was unfortunate for Drake; for the sick man seemed to cling to him and to rely upon him just as Lady Maltby had done. ”

“ Braxton, for all his arrogance, assiduous.
‘A Faun on the Cotswolds’ had no more eager eulogist than the author of ‘Ariel in Mayfair.’ When any one praised his work, Maltby would lightly disparage it in comparison with Braxton’s--‘Ah, if I could write like THAT!’ Maltby won golden opinions in this way. Braxton, on the other hand, would let slip no opportunity for sneering at Maltby’s work--‘gimcrack,’ as he called it. This was not good for Maltby. Different men, different methods. ”

“ Maltby might once more have been compared with Braxton. But Braxton was now forgotten. So was Maltby.
This was not kind. This was not just. Maltby’s first novel, and Braxton’s, had brought delight into many thousands of homes. People should have paused to say of Braxton “Perhaps his third novel will be better than his second,” and to say as much for Maltby. I blame people for having given no sign of wanting a third from either; and I blame them with the more zest because neither ‘A Faun on the Cotswolds’ nor ‘Ariel in Mayfair’ was a merely popular book: each, I maintain, was a good book. ”

“ I assured Maltby that all I had known was the great bare fact of his having stayed at Keeb Hall.
‘It’s curious,’ he reflected. ‘It’s a fine illustration of the loyalty of those people to one another. I suppose there was a general agreement for the Duchess’ sake that nothing should be said about her queer guest. ”

“ Phar."
"True," said Maltby. "That's the worst of you romantic idealists. It's your permanent condition." He settled back in his chair, and fell to his old trick of slowly caressing the back of his left hand with the palm of his right. "The world, my dear Mr. Farmer," he continued, "the universe, indeed, as we have come gradually to know it, is an infinity of blindly clashing forces. They have always existed, they will always exist; they have always been blind, and they always will be. ”

“ Maltby paused in his narrative. ‘Well, well,’ he said, ‘I don’t want you to think I overrate the ordeal of my visit to Keeb. A man of stronger nerve than mine, and of greater resourcefulness, might have coped successfully with Braxton from first to last—might have stayed on till Monday, making a very favourable impression on every one all the while. ”

“ HILARY MALTBY AND STEPHEN BRAXTON
People still go on comparing Thackeray and Dickens, quite cheerfully. But the fashion of comparing Maltby and Braxton went out so long ago as 1795. No, I am wrong. But anything that happened in the bland old days before the war does seem to be a hundred more years ago than actually it is. The year I mean is the one in whose spring-time we all went bicycling (O thrill!) in Battersea Park, and ladies wore sleeves that billowed enormously out from their shoulders, and Lord Rosebery was Prime Minister. ”

“ I wasn’t sure,’ said Maltby, ‘whether it was ever published. A dreary affair, wasn’t it? I knew a great deal about suburban life. But—well, I suppose one can’t really understand what one doesn’t love, and one can’t make good fun without real understanding. Besides, what chance of virtue is there for a book written merely to distract the author’s mind? I had hoped to be healed by sea and sunshine and solitude. These things were useless. The labour of “Mr. and Mrs. Robinson” did help, a little. When I had finished it, I thought I might as well send it off to my publisher. ”

“ Ernest Maltby was deeply interested in the account which Thomas Bradly gave him of the work going on in the heart of Lydia Philips.
“This is the Lord’s doing,” he said, “and is marvellous in our eyes. I am so glad that she came to you, Thomas; and equally so that you have come to me about her, for I think I know of a situation that may suit her nicely.”
“Indeed, sir; I’m truly glad of that.”
“Yes; I heard yesterday from our old friend Dr Prosser that he is wanting to find just such a young woman as Lydia Philips to fill a place which is now vacant, and the appointment to which is in his hands. ”

“ Never half as much as she claimed to know, and not a quarter of what she’d liked to have known!
“That’s why she had to get out of the old Corner House——”
“Did she have to?” interrupted Ruth, quickly.
“Yes, she did,” said the seamstress, nodding confidently. “Although old Mr. Stower promised her mother she should have shelter here as long as Sally lived, he died without making a will. Mrs. Maltby-that-was, died first. So there wasn’t any legal claim Sally Maltby could make. She stayed here only by Peter’s sufferance, and she couldn’t be content. ”

“ Why should?" asked Phil. "Granting your universe, who gives a negligible damn for a little discomfort more or less?"
"I do!" Maltby asserted. "I want all the comfort I can get; and I could get far more in a world of clear-seeing, secular egotists than I can in this mixed mess of superstitious, sentimental idealists which we choose to call civilized society! Take just one minor practical illustration: Say that some virgin has wakened my desire, and I hers. In a reasonable society we could give each other a certain amount of passing satisfaction. But do we do it? ”

“ He must take us as he finds us. Like other folks, we aren’t always right side out; but we generally mean what we say, and when we do say anything we commonly make it stand for summat.”
“Well now, Thomas,” continued Mr Maltby, “you’re a plain, practical man, and I think you could give us an opinion worth having on a subject we’ve been talking about.”
“I’m sure, sir, I don’t know how that may be,” was the reply; “but we working-people sometimes see things in a different light from what those above us does,—at least so far as our experience goes.” ”

“ The clouds have not gathered without a cause; but still, I believe that, as the hymn says, they will yet ‘break with blessings on our head.’—Clara, my child, it will not be wise to make this interview too long; so we will leave the talking now to yourself and Thomas Bradly.”
“Dear, kind friend,” began Miss Maltby, raising herself from her couch, and leaning herself on her mother, who came and sat by her, “I could not be satisfied to leave Crossbourne without seeing you first, as I want you to do something for me in the parish which I cannot ask my dear father to do. ”

“ Maltby, at the siege of Vicksburg: “He is the bravest man I ever saw on the field of battle.” He was in the Mexican War, badly wounded at Chapultepec, then at Fort Donelson in 1862 and then at Vicksburg. He was justly promoted to be a Brigadier General for his bravery. A detail of about two companies would hold the crater for two hours or more, their rapid firing causing the rifles to become hot and foul, and the men weary and worn out, when two other companies would slip in and take their places. ”

“ Walter Maltby had troubles of his own. He now voiced them: "Jenny will be furious if we don't get out of here pretty quick. I'm always home for Television Theater and if I don't make it—"
He got no further because at that moment the foundations of the world seemed to give way and the four of them were hurled into a heap on the floor.
Or were they?
This question was in Fleming Carter's mind as Peggy Wilson screamed, Walter Maltby whimpered, and Wilmer Payton bellowed in terror. Had the lift fallen—the building collapsed—an atom bomb exploded? His instincts told him no. ”

“ He seems to have been son of John Malorie by Alice, daughter of John Revell, to have served under Richard de Beauchamp, captain of Calais, about 1430, to have been knighted in 1445, to have been M.P. for Warwickshire, to have died in March 1471, and to have been buried at Grey Friars, Newgate (cf. Athenceum, 11-18 July 1896) . 441 i 20 Maltby, Edward: for a prebend at Lincoln, read the prebend of Leighton Buzzard in Lincoln Cathedral in 1794, 22-23 for and Leighton Buzzard, Bedfordshire, read While at Buckden, Maltby received Edward Bouverie Pusey [q. v.] ”

“ By some compensating law of Nature, there were given to Maltboy a light and cheerful heart, a tendency to laugh on the smallest provocation, and a nice susceptibility to the beautiful. Not the beautiful in rivers, forests, skies, and other inanimate things, but the beautiful in woman. And as Overtop was gifted to discover charms in material objects which were plain in other eyes, so Maltboy possessed the wonderful faculty of seeing beauty in female faces, where other people saw, perhaps, only a bad nose, dull eyes, and a pinched-up mouth. ”

“ Mrs. Milligan looked at me in surprise, but before she could say a word Arthur had commenced to recite the fable. I looked at Mrs. Milligan: her beautiful face broke into a smile; then I thought I saw tears in her eyes, but she bent her head quickly over her son and put her arms about him. I was not sure if she was crying.
"The words mean nothing," said Arthur; "they are stupid, but the things that one sees! Remi made me see the shepherd with his flute, and the fields, and the dogs, and the sheep, then the wolves, and I could even hear the music that the shepherd was playing. ”

“ He started, and saw before him a young man, of plain dress, gentlemanlike appearance, and striking countenance.
"Mr. Maltravers, I think," said the stranger, and Ernest recognised the voice that had so disturbed him: "this is lucky; we can now introduce ourselves, for I find Cleveland means us to be intimate. Mr. Lumley Ferrers, Mr. Ernest Maltravers. There now, I am the elder, so I first offer my hand, and grin properly. People always grin when they make a new acquaintance! Well, that's settled. Which way are you walking?" ”

“ The weather was cold and inclement; but Ernest Maltravers was a hardy lover of nature, and neither snow nor frost could detain him from his daily rambles. So, about noon, he regularly threw aside books and papers, took his hat and staff, and went whistling or humming his favourite airs through the dreary streets, or along the bleak waters, or amidst the leafless woods, just as the humour seized him; for he was not an Edwin or Harold, who reserved speculation only for lonely brooks and pastoral hills. Maltravers delighted to contemplate nature in men as well as in sheep or trees. ”

“ Lise and I greet our guests, the landau dashes up from the opposite direction with Arthur, Christina and Mattia. Following in its wake is a dog cart driven by a smart looking man, beside whom is seated a rugged sailor. The gentleman holding the reins is Bob, now very prosperous, and the man by his side is his brother, who helped me to escape from England.
When the baptismal feast is over, Mattia draws me aside to the window.
"We have often played to indifferent people," he said; "let us now, on this memorable occasion, play for those we love?" ”

“ Maltboy's inconstancy, it was wisely ordained that he should be the principal sufferer--that every new passion should involve him in new difficulties, and subject him to a degree of mental distress which would have reduced the flesh of any man not hopelessly predisposed to fatness. As Mr. Matthew Maltboy stood by the fire, he was not taking the profitable retrospective view of his life which he should have taken, but was glancing with an expression of concern at the circumference of a showy vest pattern which cut off the view of his legs. ”

“ There are plenty of bees that will be very happy to make your acquaintance. Add to this, my dear Ernest, the pleasure of being made of—of being of importance in your own country. For you are young, well-born, and sufficiently handsome to be an object of interest to mothers and to daughters; while your name, and property, and interest, will make you courted by men who want to borrow your money and obtain your influence in your county. No, Maltravers, stay in London—amuse yourself your first year, and decide on your occupation and career the next ”

“ But in youth, we are egotists and sentimentalists, and Maltravers belonged to the fraternity who employ
"The heart in passion and the head in rhymes."
At length—just when London begins to grow most pleasant—when flirtations become tender, and water-parties numerous—when birds sing in the groves of Richmond, and whitebait refresh the statesman by the shores of Greenwich,—Maltravers abruptly fled from the gay metropolis, and arrived, one lovely evening in July, at his own ivy-grown porch of Burleigh. ”