My father's sister was an ancient lady, resident in Philadelphia, the
relict of a merchant, whose decease left her the enjoyment of a frugal
competence. She was without children, and had often expressed her desire
that her nephew Frank, whom she always considered as a sprightly and
promising lad, should be put under her care. She offered to be at the
expense of my education, and to bequeath to me at her death her slender
patrimony.
This arrangement was obstinately rejected by my father, because it was
merely fostering and giving scope to propensities, which he considered
as hurtful, and because his avarice desired that this inheritance
should fall to no one but himself. To me, it was a scheme of ravishing
felicity, and to be debarred from it was a source of anguish known to
few. I had too much experience of my father's pertinaciousness ever to
hope for a change in his views; yet the bliss of living with my aunt,
in a new and busy scene, and in the unbounded indulgence of my literary
passion, continually occupied my thoughts: for a long time these
thoughts were productive only of despondency and tears.
Time only enhanced the desirableness of this scheme; my new faculty
would naturally connect itself with these wishes, and the question could
not fail to occur whether it might not aid me in the execution of my
favourite plan.
A thousand superstitious tales were current in the family. Apparitions
had been seen, and voices had been heard on a multitude of occasions. My
father was a confident believer in supernatural tokens. The voice of
his wife, who had been many years dead, had been twice heard at midnight
whispering at his pillow. I frequently asked myself whether a scheme
favourable to my views might not be built upon these foundations.
Suppose (thought I) my mother should be made to enjoin upon him
compliance with my wishes?
This idea bred in me a temporary consternation. To imitate the voice of
the dead, to counterfeit a commission from heaven, bore the aspect of
presumption and impiety. It seemed an offence which could not fail to
draw after it the vengeance of the deity. My wishes for a time yielded
to my fears, but this scheme in proportion as I meditated on it, became
more plausible; no other occurred to me so easy and so efficacious.
I endeavoured to persuade myself that the end proposed, was, in the
highest degree praiseworthy, and that the excellence of my purpose would
justify the means employed to attain it.
My resolutions were, for a time, attended with fluctuations and
misgivings. These gradually disappeared, and my purpose became firm; I
was next to devise the means of effecting my views, this did not demand
any tedious deliberation. It was easy to gain access to my father's
chamber without notice or detection, cautious footsteps and the
suppression of breath would place me, unsuspected and unthought of, by
his bed side. The words I should use, and the mode of utterance were not
easily settled, but having at length selected these, I made myself by
much previous repetition, perfectly familiar with the use of them.
I selected a blustering and inclement night, in which the darkness was
augmented by a veil of the blackest clouds. The building we inhabited
was slight in its structure, and full of crevices through which the gale
found easy way, and whistled in a thousand cadences. On this night
the elemental music was remarkably sonorous, and was mingled not
unfrequently with _thunder heard remote_.
I could not divest myself of secret dread. My heart faultered with a
consciousness of wrong. Heaven seemed to be present and to disapprove my
work; I listened to the thunder and the wind, as to the stern voice
of this disapprobation. Big drops stood on my forehead, and my tremors
almost incapacitated me from proceeding.
These impediments however I surmounted; I crept up stairs at midnight,
and entered my father's chamber. The darkness was intense and I
sought with outstretched hands for his bed. The darkness, added to the
trepidation of my thoughts, disabled me from making a right estimate of
distances: I was conscious of this, and when I advanced within the room,
paused.
I endeavoured to compare the progress I had made with my knowledge
of the room, and governed by the result of this comparison, proceeded
cautiously and with hands still outstretched in search of the foot of
the bed. At this moment lightning flashed into the room: the brightness
of the gleam was dazzling, yet it afforded me an exact knowledge of my
situation. I had mistaken my way, and discovered that my knees nearly
touched the bedstead, and that my hands at the next step, would have
touched my father's cheek. His closed eyes and every line in his
countenance, were painted, as it were, for an instant on my sight.
The flash was accompanied with a burst of thunder, whose vehemence was
stunning. I always entertained a dread of thunder, and now recoiled,
overborne with terror. Never had I witnessed so luminous a gleam and so
tremendous a shock, yet my father's slumber appeared not to be disturbed
by it.
I stood irresolute and trembling; to prosecute my purpose in this state
of mind was impossible. I resolved for the present to relinquish it, and
turned with a view of exploring my way out of the chamber. Just then a
light seen through the window, caught my eye. It was at first weak but
speedily increased; no second thought was necessary to inform me that
the barn, situated at a small distance from the house, and newly
stored with hay, was in flames, in consequence of being struck by the
lightning.
My terror at this spectacle made me careless of all consequences
relative to myself. I rushed to the bed and throwing myself on my
father, awakened him by loud cries. The family were speedily roused,
and were compelled to remain impotent spectators of the devastation.
Fortunately the wind blew in a contrary direction, so that our
habitation was not injured.
The impression that was made upon me by the incidents of that night
is indelible. The wind gradually rose into an hurricane; the largest
branches were torn from the trees, and whirled aloft into the air;
others were uprooted and laid prostrate on the ground. The barn was a
spacious edifice, consisting wholly of wood, and filled with a plenteous
harvest. Thus supplied with fuel, and fanned by the wind, the fire raged
with incredible fury; meanwhile clouds rolled above, whose blackness
was rendered more conspicuous by reflection from the flames; the vast
volumes of smoke were dissipated in a moment by the storm, while
glowing fragments and cinders were borne to an immense hight, and tossed
everywhere in wild confusion. Ever and anon the sable canopy that hung
around us was streaked with lightning, and the peals, by which it was
accompanied, were deafning, and with scarcely any intermission.
It was, doubtless, absurd to imagine any connexion between this
portentous scene and the purpose that I had meditated, yet a belief
of this connexion, though wavering and obscure, lurked in my mind;
something more than a coincidence merely casual, appeared to have
subsisted between my situation, at my father's bed side, and the flash
that darted through the window, and diverted me from my design. It
palsied my courage, and strengthened my conviction, that my scheme was
criminal.
After some time had elapsed, and tranquility was, in some degree,
restored in the family, my father reverted to the circumstances in which
I had been discovered on the first alarm of this event. The truth was
impossible to be told. I felt the utmost reluctance to be guilty of a
falsehood, but by falsehood only could I elude detection. That my guilt
was the offspring of a fatal necessity, that the injustice of others
gave it birth and made it unavoidable, afforded me slight consolation.
Nothing can be more injurious than a lie, but its evil tendency chiefly
respects our future conduct. Its direct consequences may be transient
and few, but it facilitates a repetition, strengthens temptation, and
grows into habit. I pretended some necessity had drawn me from my bed,
and that discovering the condition of the barn, I hastened to inform my
father.
Some time after this, my father summoned me to his presence. I had been
previously guilty of disobedience to his commands, in a matter about
which he was usually very scrupulous. My brother had been privy to
my offence, and had threatened to be my accuser. On this occasion I
expected nothing but arraignment and punishment. Weary of oppression,
and hopeless of any change in my father's temper and views, I had formed
the resolution of eloping from his house, and of trusting, young as
I was, to the caprice of fortune. I was hesitating whether to abscond
without the knowledge of the family, or to make my resolutions known
to them, and while I avowed my resolution, to adhere to it in spite of
opposition and remonstrances, when I received this summons.
I was employed at this time in the field; night was approaching, and I
had made no preparation for departure; all the preparation in my power
to make, was indeed small; a few clothes, made into a bundle, was the
sum of my possessions. Time would have little influence in improving my
prospects, and I resolved to execute my scheme immediately.
I left my work intending to seek my chamber, and taking what was my own,
to disappear forever. I turned a stile that led out of the field into
a bye path, when my father appeared before me, advancing in an opposite
direction; to avoid him was impossible, and I summoned my fortitude to a
conflict with his passion.
As soon as we met, instead of anger and upbraiding, he told me, that
he had been reflecting on my aunt's proposal, to take me under her
protection, and had concluded that the plan was proper; if I still
retained my wishes on that head, he would readily comply with them,
and that, if I chose, I might set off for the city next morning, as a
neighbours waggon was preparing to go.
I shall not dwell on the rapture with which this proposal was listened
to: it was with difficulty that I persuaded myself that he was in
earnest in making it, nor could divine the reasons, for so sudden and
unexpected a change in his maxims.... These I afterwards discovered.
Some one had instilled into him fears, that my aunt exasperated at
his opposition to her request, respecting the unfortunate Frank, would
bequeath her property to strangers; to obviate this evil, which his
avarice prompted him to regard as much greater than any mischief,
that would accrue to me, from the change of my abode, he embraced her
proposal.
I entered with exultation and triumph on this new scene; my hopes were
by no means disappointed. Detested labour was exchanged for luxurious
idleness. I was master of my time, and the chuser of my occupations. My
kinswoman on discovering that I entertained no relish for the
drudgery of colleges, and was contented with the means of intellectual
gratification, which I could obtain under her roof, allowed me to pursue
my own choice.
Three tranquil years passed away, during which, each day added to my
happiness, by adding to my knowledge. My biloquial faculty was not
neglected. I improved it by assiduous exercise; I deeply reflected
on the use to which it might be applied. I was not destitute of pure
intentions; I delighted not in evil; I was incapable of knowingly
contributing to another's misery, but the sole or principal end of my
endeavours was not the happiness of others.
I was actuated by ambition. I was delighted to possess superior power;
I was prone to manifest that superiority, and was satisfied if this
were done, without much solicitude concerning consequences. I sported
frequently with the apprehensions of my associates, and threw out a bait
for their wonder, and supplied them with occasions for the structure
of theories. It may not be amiss to enumerate one or two adventures in
which I was engaged.