impression on me. Young as I
was, I comprehended that I was the cause of the ill-treatment of my
nurse, whom I fondly loved. I interfered--I placed my little body
between her and her brutal oppressor. I scratched, I kicked, I
screamed--I grew mad with passion. At that hour, the spirit of evil and
of hate blew the dark coal in my heart into a flame; and the demon of
violent anger has ever since found it too easy to erect there his altar,
of which the fire, though, at the time, all-consuming, is never durable.
From that moment I commenced my intellectual existence. I looked on
the sobbing mother, and knew what it was to love, and my love found its
expression in an agony of tears. I looked on the tyrant, I felt what it
was to hate, and endeavoured to relieve the burning desire to punish
with frantic actions and wild outcries. Old Ford, who had been present
and enjoyed the _fracas_, immediately took me into his especial favour;
he declared that I was after his own heart, for I had the devil in me--
said that I had the right spirit to bring me to the gallows, and he
hoped, old as he was, to live to see it: he then entreated of the Lord
that my precious soul might be saved as a burning brand out of the
fire--took me by the hand and led me to the next gin-shop--made me taste
the nauseating poison--told me I was a little man, and it was glorious
to fight--doubled up for me my puny fists, and asserted that cowards
only suffered a blow without returning it. A lesson like this never can
be forgotten. I ground my teeth whilst I was receiving it--I clenched
my hands, and looked wildly round for something to destroy. I was in
training to become a little tiger. From what I then experienced, I can
easily conceive the feelings that actuate, and can half forgive the
crowned monsters who have revelled in blood, and relished the inflicting
of torture; as pandering to their worst passions in infancy resolves
them into a terrible instrument of cruelty, the control of which rests
not with themselves. But this lesson in tiger ferocity had its
emollient, though not its antidote, in the tenderness of the love which
I bore to my nurse, when, on my return, I flung myself into her arms.
Ever since that day I have been subject to terrific fits of passion; but
very happily for me they have long ceased to be but of very rare
occurrence.

The next morning, Master Joseph came home ill, and if not humbled, at
least almost helpless. He had n