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  CHAPTER III. OPINIONS OF OUR AUTHOR'S ANCESTOR, TOGETHER WITH SOME OFHIS OWN, AND SOME OF OTHER PEOPLE'S.

  Dr. Etherington was both a pious man and a gentleman. The second sonof a baronet of ancient lineage, he had been educated in most of theopinions of his caste, and possibly he was not entirely above itsprejudices; but, this much admitted, few divines were more willingto defer to the ethics and principles of the Bible than himself. Hishumility had, of course, a decent regard to station; his charity wasjudiciously regulated by the articles of faith; and his philanthropy wasof the discriminating character that became a warm supporter of churchand state.

  In accepting the trust which he was now obliged to assume, he hadyielded purely to a benevolent wish to smooth the dying pillow of mymother. Acquainted with the character of her husband, he had committed asort of pious fraud, in attaching the condition of the endowment to hisconsent; for, notwithstanding the becoming language of his own rebuke,the promise, and all the other little attendant circumstances of thenight, it might be questioned which felt the most surprise afterthe draft was presented and duly honored, he who found himself inpossession, or he who found himself deprived, of the sum of ten thousandpounds sterling. Still Dr. Etherington acted with the most scrupulousintegrity in the whole affair; and although I am aware that a writer whohas so many wonders to relate, as must of necessity adorn the succeedingpages of this manuscript, should observe a guarded discretion in drawingon the credulity of his readers, truth compels me to add, that everyfarthing of the money was duly invested with a single eye to the wishesof the dying Christian, who, under Providence, had been the means ofbestowing so much gold on the poor and unlettered. As to the manner inwhich the charity was finally improved, I shall say nothing, since noinquiry on my part has ever enabled me to obtain such information aswould justify my speaking with authority.

  As for myself, I shall have little more to add touching the events ofthe succeeding twenty years. I was baptized, nursed, breeched, schooled,horsed, confirmed, sent to the university, and graduated, much asbefalls all gentlemen of the established church in the united kingdomsof Great Britain and Ireland, or, in other words, of the land of myancestor. During these pregnant years, Dr. Etherington acquitted himselfof a duty that, judging by a very predominant feeling of human nature(which, singularly enough, renders us uniformly averse to being troubledwith other people's affairs), I think he must have found sufficientlyvexatious, quite as well as my good mother had any right to expect. Mostof my vacations were spent at his rectory; for he had first married,then become a father, next a widower, and had exchanged his town livingfor one in the country, between the periods of my mother's death andthat on my going to Eton; and, after I quitted Oxford, much more of mytime was passed beneath his friendly roof than beneath that of my ownparent. Indeed, I saw little of the latter. He paid my bills, furnishedme with pocket-money, and professed an intention to let me travel afterI should reach my majority. But, satisfied with these proofs of paternalcare, he appeared willing to let me pursue my own course very much in myown way.

  My ancestor was an eloquent example of the truth of that political dogmawhich teaches the efficacy of the division of labor. No manufacturer ofthe head of a pin ever attained greater dexterity in his single-mindedvocation than was reached by my father in the one pursuit to which hedevoted, as far as human ken could reach, both soul and body. As anysense is known to increase in acuteness by constant exercise, or anypassion by indulgence, so did his ardor in favor of the great objectof his affections grow with its growth, and become more manifest as anordinary observer would be apt to think the motive of its existence atall had nearly ceased. This is a moral phenomenon that I have often hadoccasion to observe, and which, there is some reason to think, dependson a principle of attraction that has hitherto escaped the sagacity ofthe philosophers, but which is as active in the immaterial, as is thatof gravitation in the material world. Talents like his, so incessantlyand unweariedly employed, produced the usual fruits. He grew richerhourly, and at the time of which I speak he was pretty generally knownto the initiated to be the warmest man who had anything to do with thestock exchange.

  I do not think that the opinions of my ancestor underwent as manymaterial changes between the ages of fifty and seventy as they hadundergone between the ages of ten and forty. During the latter periodthe tree of life usually gets deep root, its inclination is fixed,whether obtained by bending to the storms, or by drawing toward thelight; and it probably yields more in fruits of its own, than it gainsby tillage and manuring. Still my ancestor was not exactly the same manthe day he kept his seventieth birthday as he had been the day he kepthis fiftieth. In the first place, he was worth thrice the money at theformer period that he had been worth at the latter. Of course his moralsystem had undergone all the mutations that are known to be dependent ona change of this important character. Beyond a question, during the lastfive-and-twenty years of the life of my ancestor, his political bias,too, was in favor of exclusive privileges and exclusive benefits. I donot mean that he was an aristocrat in the vulgar acceptation. Tohim, feudality was a blank; he had probably never heard the word.Portcullises rose and fell, flanking towers lifted their heads, andembattled walls swept around their fabrics in vain, so far as hisimagination was concerned. He cared not for the days of courts leet andcourts baron; nor for the barons themselves; nor for the honors of apedigree (why should he?--no prince in the land could more clearlytrace his family into obscurity than himself), nor for the vanities ofa court, nor for those of society; nor for aught else of the same naturethat is apt to have charms for the weak-minded, the imaginative, orthe conceited. His political prepossessions showed themselves in a verydifferent manner. Throughout the whole of the five lustres I have named,he was never heard to whisper a censure against government, let itsmeasures, or the character of its administration, be what it would.It was enough for him that it was government. Even taxation no longerexcited his ire, nor aroused his eloquence. He conceived it to benecessary to order, and especially to the protection of property, abranch of political science that he had so studied as to succeed inprotecting his own estate, in a measure, against even this great allyitself. After he became worth a million, it was observed that all hisopinions grew less favorable to mankind in general, and that he was muchdisposed to exaggerate the amount and quality of the few boons whichProvidence has bestowed on the poor. The report of a meeting of theWhigs generally had an effect on his appetite; a resolution that wassuspected of emanating from Brookes's commonly robbed him of a dinner,and the Radicals never seriously moved that he did not spend a sleeplessnight, and pass a large portion of the next day in uttering words thatit would be hardly moral to repeat. I may without impropriety add,however, that on such occasions he did not spare allusions to thegallows; Sir Francis Burdett, in particular, was a target for a gooddeal of billingsgate; and men as upright and as respectable even as mylords Grey, Landsdowne, and Holland, were treated as if they wereno better than they should be. But on these little details it isunnecessary to dwell, for it must be a subject of common remark, thatthe more elevated and refined men become in their political ethics, themore they are accustomed to throw dirt upon their neighbors. I willjust state, however, that most of what I have here related has beentransmitted to me by direct oral traditions, for I seldom saw myancestor, and when we did meet, it was only to settle accounts, to eat aleg of mutton together, and to part like those who, at least, have neverquarrelled.

  Not so with Dr. Etherington. Habit (to say nothing of my own merits)had attached him to one who owed so much to his care, and his doors werealways as open to me as if I had been his own son.

  It has been said that most of my idle time (omitting the part misspentin the schools) was passed at the rectory.

  The excellent divine had married a lovely woman, a year or two afterthe death of my mother, who had left him a widower, and the father of alittle image of herself, before the expiration of a twelvemonth. Owingto the strength of his affections for the deceased, or
for his daughter,or because he could not please himself in a second marriage as well asit had been his good fortune to do in the first, Dr. Etherington hadnever spoken of forming another connection. He appeared content todischarge his duties, as a Christian and a gentleman, without increasingthem by creating any new relations with society.

  Anna Etherington was of course my constant companion during manylong and delightful visits at the rectory. Three years my junior,the friendship on my part had commenced by a hundred acts of boyishkindness. Between the ages of seven and twelve, I dragged her about ina garden-chair, pushed her on the swing, and wiped her eyes and utteredwords of friendly consolation when any transient cloud obscured thesunny brightness of her childhood. From twelve to fourteen, I told herstories; astonished her with narratives of my own exploits at Eton,and caused her serene blue eyes to open in admiration at the marvels ofLondon. At fourteen, I began to pick up her pocket-handkerchief, huntfor her thimble, accompany her in duets, and to read poetry to her,as she occupied herself with the little lady-like employments of theneedle. About the age of seventeen I began to compare cousin Anna, asI was permitted to call her, with the other young girls of myacquaintance, and the comparison was generally much in her favor. It wasalso about this time that, as my admiration grew more warm and manifest,she became less confiding and less frank; I perceived too that, for anovelty, she now had some secrets that she did not choose to communicateto me, that she was more with her governess, and less in my societythan formerly, and on one occasion (bitterly did I feel the slight)she actually recounted to her father the amusing incidents of a littlebirthday fete at which she had been present, and which was given bya gentleman of the vicinity, before she even dropped a hint to me,touching the delight she had experienced on the occasion. I was,however, a good deal compensated for the slight by her saying, kindly,as she ended her playful and humorous account of the affair:

  "It would have made you laugh heartily, Jack, to see the droll mannerin which the servants acted their parts" (there had been a sort ofmystified masque), "more particularly the fat old butler, of whom theyhad made a Cupid, as Dick Griffin said, in order to show that lovebecomes drowsy and dull by good eating and drinking--I DO wish you COULDhave been there, Jack."

  Anna was a gentle feminine girl, with a most lovely and winningcountenance, and I did inherently like to hear her pronounce the word"Jack"--it was so different from the boisterous screech of the Etonboys, or the swaggering call of my boon companions at Oxford!

  "I should have liked it excessively myself, Anna," I answered; "moreparticularly as you seem to have so much enjoyed the fun."

  "Yes, but that COULD NOT BE" interrupted Miss-Mrs. Norton, thegoverness. "For Sir Harry Griffin is very difficult about hisassociates, and you know, my dear, that Mr. Goldencalf, though a veryrespectable young man himself, could not expect one of the oldestbaronets of the county to go out of his way to invite the son of astock-jobber to be present at a fete given to his own heir."

  Luckily for Miss-Mrs. Norton, Dr. Etherington had walked away themoment his daughter ended her recital, or she might have met witha disagreeable commentary on her notions concerning the fitness ofassociations. Anna herself looked earnestly at her governess, and I sawa flush mantle over her sweet face that reminded me of the ruddiness ofmorn. Her soft eyes then fell to the floor, and it was some time beforeshe spoke.

  The next day I was arranging some fishing-tackle under a window of thelibrary, where my person was concealed by the shrubbery, when I heardthe melodious voice of Anna wishing the rector good morning. My heartbeat quicker as she approached the casement, tenderly inquiring of herparent how he had passed the night. The answers were as affectionate asthe questions, and then there was a little pause.

  "What is a stock-jobber, father?" suddenly resumed Anna, whom I heardrustling the leaves above my head.

  "A stock-jobber, my dear, is one who buys and sells in the public funds,with a view to profit."

  "And is it thought a PARTICULARLY disgraceful employment?"

  "Why, that depends on circumstances. On 'Change it seems to be wellenough--among merchants and bankers there is some odium attached to it,I believe."

  "And can you say why, father?"

  "I believe," said Dr. Etherington, laughing, "for no other reasonthan that it is an uncertain calling--one that is liable to suddenreverses--what is termed gambling--and whatever renders propertyinsecure is sure to obtain odium among those whose principal concernis its accumulation; those who consider the responsibility of others ofessential importance to themselves."

  "But is it a dishonest pursuit, father?"

  "As the times go, not necessarily, my dear; though it may readily becomeso."

  "And is it disreputable, generally, with the world?"

  "That depends on circumstances, Anna. When the stock-jobber loses, heis very apt to be condemned; but I rather think his character rises inproportion to his gains. But why do you ask these singular questions,love?"

  I thought I heard Anna breathe harder than usual, and it is certain thatshe leaned far out of the window to pluck a rose.

  "Why, Mrs. Norton said Jack was not invited to Sir Harry Griffin'sbecause his father was a stock-jobber. Do you think she was right, sir?"

  "Very likely, my dear," returned the divine, who I fancied was smilingat the question. "Sir Harry has the advantages of birth, and he probablydid not forget that our friend Jack was not so fortunate--and, moreover,Sir Harry, while he values himself on his wealth, is not as rich asJack's father by a million or two--in other words, as they say on'Change, Jack's father could buy ten of him. This motive was perhapsmore likely to influence him than the first. In addition, Sir Harry issuspected of gambling himself in the funds through the aid of agents;and a gentleman who resorts to such means to increase his fortune is alittle apt to exaggerate his social advantages by way of a set-off tothe humiliation."

  "And GENTLEMEN do really become stock-jobbers, father?"

  "Anna, the world has undergone great changes in my time. Ancientopinions have been shaken, and governments themselves are getting tobe little better than political establishments to add facilities to theaccumulation of money. This is a subject, however, you cannot very wellunderstand, nor do I pretend to be very profound in it myself."

  "But is Jack's father really so very, very rich?" asked Anna, whosethoughts had been wandering from the thread of those pursued by herfather.

  "He is believed to be so."

  "And Jack is his heir."

  "Certainly--he has no other child; though it is not easy to say what sosingular a being may do with his money."

  "I hope he will disinherit Jack!"

  "You surprise me, Anna! You, who are so mild and reasonable, to wishsuch a misfortune to befall our young friend John Goldencalf!" I gazedupward in astonishment at this extraordinary speech of Anna, and at themoment I would have given all my interest in the fortune in question tohave seen her face (most of her body was out of the window, for I heardher again rustling the bush above my head), in order to judge of hermotive by its expression; but an envious rose grew exactly in the onlyspot where it was possible to get a glimpse.

  "Why do you wish so cruel a thing?" resumed Dr. Etherington, a littleearnestly.

  "Because I hate stock-jobbing and its riches, father. Were Jack poorer,it seems to me he would be better esteemed."

  As this was uttered the dear girl drew back, and I then perceived thatI had mistaken her cheek for one of the largest and most blooming of theflowers. Dr. Etherington laughed, and I distinctly heard him kiss theblushing face of his daughter. I think I would have given up my hopes inanother million to have been the rector at Tenthpig at that instant.

  "If that be all, child," he answered, "set thy heart at rest. Jack'smoney will never bring him into contempt unless through the use he maymake of it. Alas! Anna, we live in an age of corruption and cupidity!Generous motives appear to be lost sight of in the general desireof gain; and he who would manifest a disposition to a pure anddisinterest
ed philanthropy is either distrusted as a hypocrite orderided as a fool. The accursed revolution among our neighbors theFrench has quite unsettled opinions, and religion itself has totteredin the wild anarchy of theories to which it has given rise. There is noworldly advantage that has been more austerely denounced by the divinewriters than riches, and yet it is fast rising to be the god of theascendant. To say nothing of an hereafter, society is getting to becorrupted by it to the core, and even respect for birth is yielding tothe mercenary feeling."

  "And do you not think pride of birth, father, a mistaken prejudice aswell as pride of riches?"

  "Pride of any sort, my love, cannot exactly be defended on evangelicalprinciples; but surely some distinctions among men are necessary, evenfor quiet. Were the levelling principle acknowledged, the letteredand the accomplished must descend to an equality with the ignorantand vulgar, since all men cannot rise to the attainments of the formerclass, and the world would retrograde to barbarism. The character ofa Christian gentleman is much too precious to trifle with in order tocarry out an impracticable theory."

  Anna was silent. Probably she was confused between the opinions whichshe most liked to cherish and the faint glimmerings of truth to whichwe are reduced by the ordinary relations of life. As for the good rectorhimself, I had no difficulty in understanding his bias, though neitherhis premises nor his conclusions possessed the logical clearness thatused to render his sermons so delightful, more especially when hepreached about the higher qualities of the Saviour's dispensation, suchas charity, love of our fellows, and, in particular, the imperative dutyof humbling ourselves before God.

  A month after this accidental dialogue, chance made me auditor of whatpassed between my ancestor and Sir Joseph Job, another celebrated dealerin the funds, in an interview that took place in the house of the formerin Cheapside. As the difference was so PATENT, as the French express it,I shall furnish the substance of what passed.

  "This is a serious and a most alarming movement, Mr. Goldencalf,"observed Sir Joseph, "and calls for union and cordiality among theholders of property. Should these damnable opinions get fairly abroadamong the people, what would become of us? I ask, Mr. Goldencalf, whatwould become of us?"

  "I agree with you, Sir Joseph, it is very alarming!--frightfullyalarming!"

  "We shall have agrarian laws, sir. Your money, sir, and mine--our hardearnings--will become the prey of political robbers, and our childrenwill be beggared to satisfy the envious longings of some pitifulscoundrel without a six-pence!"

  "'Tis a sad state of things, Sir Joseph; and government is very culpablethat it don't raise at least ten new regiments."

  "The worst of it is, good Mr. Goldencalf, that there are somejack-a-napeses of the aristocracy who lead the rascals on and lend themthe sanction of their names. It is a great mistake, sir, that we giveso much importance to birth in this island, by which means proud beggarsset unwashed blackguards in motion, and the substantial subjects are thesufferers. Property, sir, is in danger, and property is the only truebasis of society."

  "I am sure, Sir Joseph, I never could see the smallest use in birth."

  "It is of no use but to beget pensioners, Mr. Goldencalf. Now withproperty it is a different thing--money is the parent of money, andby money a state becomes powerful and prosperous. But this accursedrevolution among our neighbors the French has quite unsettled opinions,and, alas! property is in perpetual danger!"

  "Sorry am I to say, I feel it to be so in every nerve of my body, SirJoseph."

  "We must unite and defend ourselves, Mr. Goldencalf, else both you andI, men warm enough and substantial enough at present, will be in theditch. Do you not see that we are in actual danger of a division ofproperty?"

  "God forbid!"

  "Yes, sir, our sacred property is in danger!"

  Here Sir Joseph shook my father cordially by the hand and withdrew. Ifind, by a memorandum among the papers of my deceased ancestor, that hepaid the broker of Sir Joseph, that day month, sixty-two thousand sevenhundred and twelve pounds difference (as bull and bear), owing to thefact of the knight having got some secret information through a clerk inone of the offices; an advantage that enabled him, in this instance, atleast, to make a better bargain than one who was generally allowed to beamong the shrewdest speculators on 'Change.

  My mind was of a nature to be considerably exercised (as the piouspurists express it), by becoming the depository of sentiments sodiametrically opposed to each other as those of Dr. Etherington andthose of Sir Joseph Job. On the one side, I was taught the degradationof birth; on the other, the dangers of property. Anna was usuallymy confidant, but on this subject I was tongue-tied, for I dared notconfess that I had overheard the discourse with her father, and I wascompelled to digest the contradictory doctrines by myself in the bestmanner I could.