RETROSPECTION.
TWELVE o'clock the day following this sad event, found Monson P. Tracy
seated in the cars, steaming away in the direction of Maytown. He was
the only passenger in the first division of the car. And as he for the
third time perused the brief telegram, his thoughts naturally turned
back to his first acquaintance with the deceased.
To make my story more plain I will take this opportunity to describe
some events which occurred about twenty-five years earlier.
Mr. Edmond, who at that time resided in the city, was one morning
passing into his counting-house when he heard one of his clerks,
threatening a youth with imprisonment if he did not take himself from
the premises.
"What has the young man done, that he should be treated so roughly?"
inquired the gentleman.
"No good, sir! I can bear testimony to that. I've seen him hanging
round for days in company with some jailbirds. I've no doubt he is well
acquainted with the police already."
"What have you to say for yourself?" urged Mr. Edmond, after gazing for
a moment in the hungry face before him.
"I should like to tell you all about it, sir," stammered the boy, "but
not before him. I don't know anything about jailbirds."
"Come with me into my counting-room."
When alone with the gentleman, the youth recited a tale of destitution
which touched the heart of the listener. Only a month before, he had
publicly professed his faith in Christ and had devoted himself with all
his powers of body and mind to the service of his Saviour. Only that
very morning he had asked his heavenly Father to give him opportunities
to win souls. Was not this meeting with a fatherless boy just launched
on the stage of active life a direct answer to his prayer?
He drew from the youth the facts that after the death of his parents an
uncle had taken him home, but had treated him with such cruelty that he
resolved to run away, and make his own fortune. He had but a dollar,
given him by the hired man, who deeply sympathized with him, and with
this small sum he had worked his way mostly on foot, nearly a hundred
miles to the city. The first night he slept in the wagon of the drover
who had brought him the last few miles. The following day he visited
the wharves and counting-houses, begging for work, without one morsel
of food passing his lips, and at night was thankful to accept a crust
from a youth near his own age, and to share his couch on the floor of a
cellar.
Three days passed in nearly the same manner, and this was the
commencement of the fourth.
Leaving Monson, for it was he, in his office, Mr. Edmond dispatched a
lad to a bake-shop near by for a loaf of bread. It was reward enough to
watch the hungry boy devour the food. Then the gentleman pushed a sheet
of paper before the child, saying:
"Write these words: 'Fear God and keep His commandments, for this is
the whole duty of man.'"
The result both surprised and pleased the merchant, who at once set him
to work with the promise of befriending him if he would deserve aid.
A few months proved that the youth was both active and industrious,
and his benefactor took increasing interest in him. He advised Monson
to attend an evening school and apply himself to those branches which
would fit him for mercantile life. He provided ample means for the
accomplishment of this object. Nor did he, while aiming to advance
the temporal interests of his protégé, for one day forget the great
object of winning him to the rank of a soldier of Christ. He presented
him with a Sunday suit, and introduced him to a class in the Sabbath
School, stating that it was his wish that every one in his employ
should be a regular attendant on the means of grace.
Monson was not without a good deal of native shrewdness. He soon
perceived what he called, "the weak side" of his employer, and was
quite willing for policy's sake to feign a love for religion. On the
Sabbath, his seat in church on the side wing, and directly in front of
his benefactor's slip was never vacant, while his apparently devout
hearing of the word, inspired many a prayer in his behalf from his
watchful friend.
At the end of seven years, Monson found himself in a position to which
he had never aspired. He was head clerk in the great commercial house
of Roswell Edmond, with a salary sufficient to support himself in
luxury.
But though extremely fond of show, Monson had a strong motive for
prudence. He was, as I have already explained, a man of unbounded
ambition. He believed himself to be the possessor of uncommon
abilities, and he wished to live to have his name blazoned through the
land. He had early joined a club of young men, who met professedly for
the discussion of the popular subjects of the day, and, I fear, for far
worse purposes. Finding that his loud voice, distinct articulation,
and confidence in himself, won many votes to the side he advocated, he
speedily became quite a leader among his companions.
Mr. Edmond, ever zealous to promote the interests of his protégé,
encouraged this love for debate, only trying to divert it into a
healthy channel. He selected subjects such as would really profit, and
himself aided Monson in preparing his arguments. For instance:
"Are there evidences enough in nature to prove the existence of a God?"
"What are the arguments in proof of the inspiration of the Bible?"
Fifteen years from the morning when the good man first met the hungry
youth, Monson P. Tracy's name appeared on a new sign hung in place of
the old one of Roswell Edmond & Co.
This gentleman having inherited a large fortune in addition to his
already handsome estate, resolved to comply with the wishes of his
wife, and retire altogether to his beautiful estate in the country. He
therefore decided to show his appreciation of the faithful services
of his head clerk, by allowing him to purchase the business at a
reasonable, or, as his mercantile friends assured him, at a most
unreasonable discount.
He had thus been the means of creating the fortune of Mr. Tracy, a
fortune which had steadily increased, until he was counted among the
most prosperous merchants in the city.
In consequence of Mr. Edmond's frequent absence in Europe, where he
went in search of health for his wife, the benefactor and his protégé
had seldom met of late years. But as Mr. Edmond frequently saw Mr.
Tracy's name in print, and heard him spoken of as a rising man,
especially as he believed his professions of piety to be sincere, he
felt no hesitation in leaving his children's property, and, what he
valued far more, the cultivation of their hearts, to his guardian care.