re of. "-Taken care of-!"--and so I was--and so I am--for look about
you, sir, and observe the evidences of my uncle's love. The clerk, to
whom I have alluded, took an early opportunity to remind me of the nature
of my father's will--and to hint to me suspicions of foul play. I readily
believed him. It was not that I cared for the money. At that age I was
ignorant of its value, and my little portion seemed a mine of wealth. But
I wished to dislike my uncle, because he had given pain to my dear
father. I avoided his presence as much as I could, and I made him feel
that my aversion was hearty. We never became _friends_. We seldom
spoke--and never but when obliged. He was a coarse man then--I have not
seen him for many years--ungentlemanly and unfeeling in his deportment.
It would have been as easy for him to alter the framework of his body as
to have shown regard for the sensibilities of other men. He lived to
amass. He counts his tens of thousands now--they may have been scraped
together amidst the groans and shrieks of the distressed, but there they
are--he has them, and he is happy. I asked, and obtained from my mother,
permission to return to school. I remained there without visiting my home
again for three years. My mother did not once write to me, or come to see
me. I did not write to her. My expenses were paid from my income. My
father's business was still conducted by my mother with her assistants,
and she resided in the old house. Did I tell you that my uncle was the
appointed executor of my father's will, and my guardian? He managed my
affairs, and for the present I suffered him to do as he thought proper.
In the meanwhile my happiness at school was unbounded. My existence there
was sweet and tranquil, like the flow of a small secluded stream. I loved
my master. Ill-taught and self-neglected nearly till the time that I came
under his instruction, I believed that I owed all my education to him;
and whilst I thirsted for knowledge as the means of raising myself and my
own mind, he supplied me with the healthful sustenance, and helped me
forward with his precepts. I had neither taste nor application for the
severer studies. Science was too hard and real for the warm imagination
with which Providence had liberally endowed me. It was a scarecrow in the
garden of knowledge, and I looked at it with fear from the sunny heights
of poesy on which I basked and dreamed. History--fiction--the strains of
Fletcher, Shakspeare--th