rs. An angry word or two took place--a taunt--something too galling
for my father's pride was spoken, and there was a separation. My father
then commenced business on his own foundation--it is hardly necessary for
me to say with success. He could not but prosper. To fail whilst reason
was left him was impossibility. He soon married. His wife--my mother--was
the daughter of a rich merchant. You know the name, sir. Her brother, my
uncle, bears the same. I told it you just now. There could not have been a
more unfortunate union. My father was full of feeling and noble impulses,
intelligent, active, passionate, and required, if not his own qualities in
a partner, at least a milder reflex of himself--a woman that could
appreciate his nature, encourage, help, support him; a woman, in a word,
with a heart and mind, and both devoted. My mother, unfortunately for her,
for all, had no sympathy for her husband--had nothing to offer him but the
portion which she brought, and the hand which her father bade her give.
She was a cold--must I say it?--unfeeling woman, with little thought
beyond herself, her apparel, and her pleasures. I hope, sir, I shall make
you understand me. It is hard to speak disparagingly of her who gave me
life. Let me be careful that I do her justice. _I_ bring against her no
charge of vice. I believe her _not_ vicious. I ever considered her too
weak to be so. I would have you imagine a woman apathetic and
characterless; her mental powers just equal to providing her with a
becoming garment; her feelings capable, perhaps, of their full expansion
if a stranger moved them with some hollow compliment upon her good taste,
or, easier still, her beauty--for she was not without this dangerous
gift--a lovely image, sir. I have myself, as a boy, often seen a radiance
upon her countenance at such a season, when the pretty gambols of my
infant sister has failed to draw one smile of approbation. The little
sensibility she had waited on a paltry vanity. I may say with truth, that
her children caused her no pain. By a fortunate physical constitution, she
bore the burden of a mother without the pangs that usually attend a
mother's state. In this respect she was considered a remarkable woman by
those who deemed their judgement in such matters sound. Once in the world,
her care was at an end. I have heard, sir--I have read of mother's love. I
can feel what it should be; I can guess what wonders it may work in the
wayward spirit of