THE SORROWS OF DEPENDENCE.
My heart sickens over this dreary portion of my life. I have heard
childhood called the happiest season of life. To me it had few joys. It
was a gloomy period of mental suffering and bodily fatigue; of
unnatural restraint and painful probation.
The cold, authoritative manner of my uncle, at all times irksome and
repelling, after the death of his good wife became almost
insupportable; while the insolence and presumption of his artful son,
goaded a free and irascible spirit like mine almost to madness. The
moral force of his mother's character, though unappreciated by him, had
been some restraint upon his unamiable, tyrannical temper. That
restraint was now removed, and Theophilus considered that my dependent
situation gave him a lawful right to my services, and had I been a
workhouse apprentice in his father's house, he could not have given his
commands with an air of more pointed insolence. My obstinate resistance
to his authority, and my desperate struggles to emancipate myself from
his control, produced a constant war of words between us; and if I
appealed to my uncle, I was sure to get the worst of it. He did not
exactly encourage his son in this ungenerous line of conduct, but his
great maxim was to _divide and rule_; to exact from all who were
dependent upon him, the most uncompromising obedience to his arbitrary
will; and he laughed at my remonstrances, and turned my indignation
into ridicule.
I was daily reminded, particularly before strangers, of the domestic
calamities which had made me dependent upon his cold, extorted charity;
while I was reproached with my want of gratitude to a cruel master.
Passion and wounded pride drew from me burning tears. I felt that I was
growing fierce and hard like my persecutors, and my conscience, yet
tender, deplored the lamentable change. My heart, crushed beneath the
sense of injustice and unmerited neglect, was closed against the best
feelings of humanity, and I regarded my fellow men with aversion and
mistrust.
These bitter and desponding feelings deprived my nights of rest--my
days, of hope. When the morning came and I took my stand at the
accursed desk, I wished the day gone; and when night released me from
the abhorrent task, and I sought my humble garret, I sat for hours at
the open window, brooding over my wrongs.
The moonbeams glittered in the tears that anguish wrung from my
upturned eyes. The stars seemed to look down upon me with compassionate
earnestness. Sometimes my young spirit, carried away by the intense
love I felt for those beautiful eyes of heaven, forgot for awhile the
sorrows and cares of life and soared far, far away to seek for sympathy
and affection in those unknown regions of light and purity.
I had few opportunities of religious instruction in this truly Godless
household. My uncle never attended church when he could avoid the
obligation, and then, only to keep up appearances--a religion of the
world; in which the heart had no part. There was always a Bible in the
office, but it was never used but in the way of business to administer
oaths. Whenever I had a moment's leisure I had turned over the pages
with eager and mysterious curiosity, but the knowledge that should have
brought peace and comfort, and reconciled me to my dreary lot, not
being sought for in the right spirit, added to my present despondency,
the dread of future punishment.
Oh, that awful fear of Hell. How it darkened with its unholy shadow,
all that was bright and beautiful in the lower world. I had yet to
learn, that perfect love casteth out fear, that the great Father
punishes but to reform, and is ever more willing to save than to
condemn. I dared not seek Him, lest I should hear the terrible
denunciation thundered against the wicked: "Depart from me, ye cursed!"
A firm trust in His protecting care would have been a balm for every
wound which festered and rankled at my heart's core. Had the
Christian's hope been mine, I should no longer have pined under that
dreary sense of utter loneliness, which for many years paralyzed all
mental exertions, or nurtured in my breast the stern unforgiving temper
which made me regard my persecutors with feelings of determined hate.
Residing in the centre of the busy metropolis, and at an age when the
heart sighs for social communion with its fellows, and imagines, with
the fond sincerity of inexperienced youth, a friend in every agreeable
companion, I was immured among old parchments and dusty records, and
seldom permitted to mingle with the guests who frequented my uncle's
house, unless my presence was required to sign some official document.
Few persons suspected that the shabbily-dressed silent youth who obeyed
Mr. Moncton's imperious mandates was his nephew--the only son of an
elder brother; consequently I was treated as nobody by his male
visitors, and never noticed at all by the ladies.
This was mortifying enough to a tall lad of eighteen, who already
fancied himself a man: who, though meanly dressed, and sufficiently
awkward, had enough of vanity in his composition to imagine that his
person would create an interest in his behalf and atone for all other
deficiencies, at least in the eyes of the gentler sex--those angels,
who seen at a distance, were daily becoming objects of admiration and
worship.
Alas! Poor Geoffrey. Thou didst not know in that thy young day the
things pertaining to thy peace. Thou didst not suspect in thy innocence
how the black brand of poverty can deform the finest face, and dim the
brightest intellect in the eyes of the world.
Among all my petty trials there were none which I felt more keenly than
having to wear the cast-off clothes of my cousin. He was some years
older, but his frame was slighter and shorter than mine, and his
garments did not fit me in any way. The coat sleeves were short and
tight, and the trowsers came half-way up my legs. The figure I cut in
these unsuitable garments was so ludicrous that it was a standing joke
among the clerks in the office.
"When you step into your cousin's shoes, Geoffrey, we hope they will
suit you better than his clothes."
I could have been happy in the coarsest fustian or corderoy garment
which I knew was my own. I believe Robert Moncton felt a malicious
pleasure in humbling me in the eyes of his people.
My uncle had fulfilled his promise, and I had been articled to him when
I completed my fourteenth year; and I now eagerly looked forward to my
majority, when I should be free to quit his employ, and seek a living
in the world.
My time had been so completely engaged in copying law papers, that I
had not been able to pay much attention to the higher branches of the
profession; and when night came, and I was at length released from the
desk, I was so over-powered by fatigue that I felt no inclination to
curtail the blessed hours of sleep by reading dull law books. Yet, upon
this all-important knowledge, which I was neglecting, rested my chance
of independence.
My cousin Theophilus was pursuing his studies at Oxford, and rarely
visited home, but spent his vacations with some wealthy relatives in
Yorkshire. This was a happy time for me; for of all my many trials his
presence was the greatest. Even Mr. Moncton was more civil to me in the
absence of his hopeful heir.
Thus time glided on until I was twenty years of age, and full six feet
in height, and I could no longer wear the cast-off suits of my cousin.
Mr. Moncton, in common decency, was at length obliged to order my
clothes of his tailor; but he took good care that they should be of the
coarsest description, and of the most unfashionable cut. The first suit
which was made expressly for me, ridiculous as it must appear to my
readers, gave me infinite satisfaction. I felt proud and happy of the
acquisition.
The afternoon of that memorable day, my uncle sent for me into the
drawing-room to witness the transfer of some law papers. His clients
were two ladies, young and agreeable. While I was writing from Mr.
Moncton's dictation, I perceived, with no small degree of trepidation,
that the younger was regarding me with earnest attention; and in spite
of myself my cheeks flushed and my hand trembled. After my part of the
business was concluded Mr. Moncton told me to withdraw. As I left the
room, I heard Miss Mary Beaumont say, in a low voice to her sister--my
uncle having stepped into the adjoining apartment:
"What a handsome young man! Who is he?"
"Oh, the clerk, of course."
"He looks a gentleman."
"A person of no consequence, by his shabby dress and awkward manners."
I closed the door, and walked hastily away. How I despised the new
suit, of which a few minutes before I had felt so proud. The remarks of
the younger lady tingled in my ears for weeks. She had considered me
worth looking at, in spite of my unfashionable garments; and I blessed
her for the amiable condescension, and thought her in return as
beautiful as an angel. I never saw her again--but I caught myself
scribbling her name on my desk, and I covered many sheets of waste
paper with indifferent rhymes in her praise.
This confession may call up a smile on the lip of the reader, and I am
content that he should accuse me of vanity. But these were the first
words of commendation which had ever reached my ears from the lips of
woman, and though I have since laughed heartily at the deep impression
they made on my mind, they produced a beneficial effect at the time,
and helped to reconcile me to my lot.
It was about this period, that Mr. Bassett left the office, and went
into the profession on his own account. The want of means, and an
imprudent marriage in early life, had hindered him from entering it
sooner. For twenty years he had worked as a clerk, when he was fully
qualified to have been the head of the firm. The death of an uncle who
left him a small property unchained him from the oar, and as he said,
"made a man of him at last."
Poor little man. I shall never forget his joy when he got that
important letter. He sprang from his desk, upsetting the high stool in
his haste, and shook hands with us all round, laughing and crying
alternately.
He was a great favourite in the office, and we all rejoiced in his good
fortune, though I felt sincerely grieved at parting with him. He had
been a kind friend to me when I had no friends; and I had spent some
quiet, happy evenings with him at his humble lodgings, in the company
of a very pretty and amiable wife. My occasional visit to him was the
only indulgence I had ever been allowed, and these visits were not
permitted to be of too frequent recurrence.
He saw how much I was affected at bidding him good-by.
"Geoffrey," said he, taking me by the hand and drawing me aside: "one
word with you before we part. I know your attachment for me is sincere.
Believe me, the feeling is reciprocated in its fullest extent. Your
uncle is not your friend. Few men act wickedly without a motive. He has
his own reasons for treating you as he does. I cannot enter into
particulars here. Nor would I, even if time and opportunity warranted,
for it would do no good. Keep your eyes open, your head clear--your
temper cool, and your tongue silent, and you will see and learn much
without the interference of a second person. I am going to open an
office in Nottingham, my native town, and if ever you want a friend in
the hour of need, come to Josiah Bassett in the full confidence of
affection, and I will help you."
This speech roused all my curiosity. I pressed him eagerly to tell me
all he knew respecting me and my uncle, but he refused to satisfy my
earnest inquiries.
The departure of Mr. Bassett, which I regarded as a calamity, proved
one of the most fortunate events in my life.
His place was supplied by a gentleman of the name of Harrison, who was
strongly recommended to Mr. Moncton by his predecessor as an excellent
writer, a man well versed in the law, sober and industrious, and in
whose integrity he might place the utmost reliance. He had no wish to
enter into the profession, but only sought to undertake the management
of the office as head clerk.
Mr. Moncton was a man who never associated himself with a partner, and
regarded despotic rule as the only one that deserved the name.
When Mr. Harrison was introduced _in propria personâ_ he did not seem
to realize his employer's expectations--who, from Mr. Bassett's
description, had evidently looked for an older and more methodical
person, and was disappointed in the young and interesting individual
who presented himself. But as he required only a moderate salary for
his services, he was engaged on trial for the next three months.