_To Henry Colden_
Wednesday Morning, October 5.
I continued my visits to my father as usual. Affairs proceeded nearly
in their old channel. Frank and I never met but by accident, and our
interviews began and ended merely with a good-morrow. I never mentioned
Risberg's name to my father, and observed that he as studiously avoided
lighting on the same topic.
One day a friend chanced to mention the greatness of my fortune, and
congratulated me on my title to two such large patrimonies as those of
Mrs. Fielder and my father. I was far from viewing my condition in the
same light with my friend. My mother's fortune was indeed large and
permanent, but my claim to it was merely through her voluntary favour, of
which a thousand accidents might bereave me. As to my father's property,
Frank had taken care very early to suggest to him that I was amply
provided for in Mrs. Fielder's good graces, and that it was equitable to
bequeath the whole inheritance to him. This disposition, indeed, was not
made without my knowledge; but though I was sensible that I held of my
maternal friend but a very precarious tenure, that my character and
education were likely to secure a much wiser and more useful application
of money than my brother's habits, it was impossible for me openly to
object to this arrangement; so that, as things stood, though the world, in
estimating my merits, never forgot that my father was rich, and that Frank
and I were his only children, I had in reality no prospect of inheriting a
farthing from him.
Indeed, I always entertained a presentiment that I should one day be
poor, and have to rely for subsistence on my own labour. With this
persuasion, I frequently busied my thoughts in imagining the most
lucrative and decent means of employing my ingenuity, and directed my
inquiries to many things of little or no use but on the irksome
supposition that I should one day live by my own labour. But this is a
digression.
In answer to my friend's remarks, I observed that my father's property
was much less considerable than some people imagined; that time made no
accession to it; and that my brother's well-known habits were likely to
reduce it much below its present standard, long before it would come to a
division.
"There, Jane, you are mistaken," said my friend, "or rather you are
willing to mislead me; for you must know that, though your father appears
to be idle, yet your brother is speculating with his money at an enormous
rate."
"And pray," said I, (for I did not wish to betray all the surprise that
this intelligence gave me,) "in what speculations is he engaged?"
"How should I tell you, who scarcely know the meaning of the word? I
only heard my father say that young Talbot, though seemingly swallowed up
in pleasure, knew how to turn a penny as well as another, and was
employing his father's wealth in _speculation_; that, I remember, was
his word, but I never, for my part, took the trouble to inquire what
_speculation_ meant. I know only that it is some hazardous or
complicated way of getting money."
These hints, though the conversation passed immediately to other
subjects, made a deep impression on my mind. My brother's character I knew
to be incompatible with any sort of industry, and had various reasons for
believing my father's property to be locked up in bank-stock. If my
friend's story were true, there was a new instance of the influence which
Frank had acquired over his father. I had very indistinct ideas of
speculation, but was used to regard it as something very hazardous, and
almost criminal.
I told my mother all my uneasiness. She thought it worth while to take
some means of getting at the truth, in conversation with my father.
Agreeably to her advice, on my next visit I opened the subject, by
repeating exactly what I heard, I concluded by asking if it were
true.
"Why, yes," said he; "it is partly true, I must confess. Some time ago
Frank laid his projects before me, and they appeared so promising and
certain of success, that I ventured to give him possession of a large
sum."
"And what scheme, sir, was it, if I may venture to ask?"
"Why, child, these are subjects so much out of thy way, that thou
wouldst hardly comprehend any explanation that I could give."
"Perhaps so; but what success, dear sir, have you met with?"
"Why, I can't but say that affairs have not been quite as expeditious
in their progress as I had reason, at first, to expect. Unlooked-for
delays and impediments will occur in the prosecution of the best schemes;
and these, I must own, have been well enough accounted for."
"But, dear sir, the scheme, I doubt not, was very beneficial that
induced you to hazard your whole fortune. I thought you had absolutely
withdrawn yourself from all the hazards and solicitudes of business."
"Why, indeed, I had so, and should never have engaged again in them of
my own accord. Indeed, I trouble not myself with any details at present. I
am just as much at my ease as I used to be. I leave every thing to
Frank."
"But, sir, the hazard, the uncertainty, of all projects! Would you
expose yourself at this time of life to the possibility of being reduced
to distress? And had you not enough already?"
"Why, what you say, Jane, is very true: these things did occur to me,
and they strongly disinclined me, at first, from your brother's proposals;
but, I don't know how it was, he made out the thing to be so very
advantageous; the success of it so infallible; and his own wants were so
numerous that my whole income was insufficient to supply them; the Lord
knows how it has happened. In my time, I could live upon a little. Even
with a wife and family, my needs did not require a fourth of the sum that
Frank, without wife or child, contrives to spend; yet I can't object
neither. He makes it out that he spends no more than his rank in life, as
he calls it, indispensably requires. Rather than encroach upon my funds,
and the prospects of success being so very flattering, and Frank so very
urgent and so very sanguine, whose own interest it is to be sure of his
footing, I even, at last, consented."
"But I hope, dear sir, your prudence provided in some degree against
the possibility of failure. No doubt you reserved something which might
serve as a stay to your old age in case this hopeful project miscarried.
Absolutely to hazard _all_ on the faith of any project whatever was
unworthy of one of your experience and discretion."
My father, Henry, was a good man,--humane, affectionate, kind, and of
strict integrity; but I scarcely need to add, after what I have already
related, that his understanding was far from being vigorous, or his temper
firm. His foibles, indeed, acquired strength as he advanced in years,
while his kindness and benevolence remained undiminished.
His acquiescence in my brother's schemes can hardly be ranked with
follies: you, who know what scheme it was, who know the intoxicating
influence of a specious project, and, especially, the wonderful address
and plausibility of Catling, the adventurer who was my brother's prime
minister and chief agent in that ruinous transaction, will not consider
their adopting the phantom as any proof of the folly of either father or
son. But let me return. To my compliment to his experience and discretion,
my father replied, "Why, truly, I hardly know how it may turn out in the
long run. At first, indeed, I only consented to come down with a few
thousands, the total loss of which would not break my heart; but this, it
seems, though it was all they at first demanded, did not prove quite
sufficient. Some debts they were obliged to contract,--to no great amount,
indeed,--and these must be paid or the scheme relinquished. Having gone so
far into the scheme, it was absurd to let a trifle stop me. I must own,
had I foreseen all the demands that have been made from time to time, I
should never have engaged in it; but I have been led on from one step to
another, till I fear it would avail me nothing to hesitate or hold back;
and Frank's representations are so very plausible!"
"Does your whole subsistence, then, my dear sir, depend on the success
of this scheme? Suppose it should utterly fail: what will be the
consequences to yourself?"
"Fail! That is impossible. It cannot fail but through want of money,
and I am solemnly assured that no more will be necessary."
"But how often, sir, has this assurance been given? No doubt with as
much solemnity the first time as the last."
My father began to grow impatient:--"It is useless, Jane, to start
difficulties and objections now. It is too late to go back, even if I
were disinclined to go forward; and I have no doubt of ultimate success.
Be a good girl, and you shall come in for a share of the profit. Mrs.
Fielder and I, between us, will make you the richest heiress in America.
Let that consideration reconcile you to the scheme."
I could not but smile at this argument. I well knew that my brother's
rapacity was not to be satisfied with millions. To sit down and say, "I
have enough," was utterly incompatible with his character. I dropped the
conversation for the present.
My thoughts were full of uneasiness. The mere sound of the word
"project" alarmed me. I had little desire of knowing the exact nature of
the scheme, being nowise qualified to judge of its practicability; but a
scheme in which my brother was the agent, in which my father's whole
property was hazarded, and which appeared, from the account I had just
heard, at least not to have fulfilled the first expectations, could not be
regarded with tranquillity.
I took occasion to renew the subject with my father, some time after
this. I could only deal in general observations on the imprudence of
putting independence and subsistence to hazard: though the past was not to
be recalled, yet the future was his own, and it would not be unworthy of
him to act with caution. I was obliged to mingle this advice with much
foreign matter, and convey it in the most indirect and gentle terms. His
pride was easily offended at being thought to want the counsel of a
girl.
He replied to my remarks with confidence, that no further demand would
be made upon him. The last sum was given with extreme reluctance, and
nothing but the positive assurance that it would absolutely be the last
had prevailed with him.
"Suppose, sir," said I, "what you have already given should prove
insufficient. Suppose some new demand should be made upon you."
"I cannot suppose that, after so many solemn and positive
assurances."
"But were not assurances as positive and solemn on every former
occasion as the last?"
"Why, yes, I must own they were; but new circumstances arose that could
not be foreseen?"
"And, dear sir, may not new circumstances arise hereafter that could
not be foreseen?"
"Nay, nay," (with some impatience;) "I tell you there cannot be
any."
I said no more on this subject at this time; but my father,
notwithstanding the confidence he expressed, was far from being at
ease.
One day I found him in great perturbation. I met my brother, who was
going out as I entered, and suspected the cause of his disquiet. He spoke
less than usual, and sighed deeply. I endeavoured, by various means, to
prevail on him to communicate his thoughts, and at last succeeded. My
brother, it seems, had made a new demand upon his purse, and he had been
brought reluctantly to consent to raise the necessary sum by a mortgage on
his house, the only real property he possessed. My brother had gone to
procure a lender and prepare the deeds.
I was less surprised at this intelligence than grieved. I thought I saw
my father's ruin was inevitable, and knew not how to prevent or
procrastinate it. After a long pause, I ventured to insinuate that, as the
thing was yet to be done, as there was still time for deliberation----
"No, no," interrupted he; "I must go on. It is too late to repent.
Unless new funds are supplied, all that we have hitherto done will go for
nothing; and Frank assures me that one more sacrifice and all will be
well."
"Alas, sir, are you still deceived by that language? Can you still
listen to assurances which experience has so often shown to be fallacious?
I know nothing of this fine project; but I can see too clearly that unless
you hold your hand you will be undone. Would to Heaven you would hesitate
a moment!" I said a great deal more to the same purpose, and was at length
interrupted by a message from my brother, who desired to see me a few
minutes in the parlour below. Though at a loss as to what could occasion
such an unusual summons, I hastened down.
I found my brother with a strange mixture of pride, perplexity, and
solicitude in his looks. His "how d'ye?" was delivered in a graver tone
than common, and he betrayed a disposition to conciliate my good-will, far
beyond what I had ever witnessed before. I waited with impatience to hear
what he had to communicate.
At last, with many pauses and much hesitation, he said, "Jane, I
suppose your legacy is untouched. Was it two or three thousand Mrs.
Matthews put you down for in her will?"
"The sum was three thousand dollars. You know that, though it was left
entirely at my own disposal, yet the bequest was accompanied with advice
to keep it unimpaired till I should want it for my own proper subsistence.
On that condition I received, and on that condition shall keep it."
"I am glad of it with all my heart," replied he, with affected
vivacity. "I was afraid you had spent it by this time on dolls, trinkets,
and baby-things. The sum is entire, you say? In your drawer? I am
surprised you could resist the temptation to spend it. I wonder nobody
thought of robbing you."
"You cannot suppose, brother, I would keep that sum in my possession?
You know it was in bank at my aunt's death, and there it has
remained."
"At what bank, pr'ythee?"