Arthur Mervyn | Page 9

with the necessity of removal, but I knew not
whither to go, or what kind of subsistence to seek. My father had been
a Scottish emigrant, and had no kindred on this side of the ocean. My
mother's family lived in New Hampshire, and long separation had
extinguished all the rights of relationship in her offspring. Tilling the
earth was my only profession, and, to profit by my skill in it, it would

be necessary to become a day-labourer in the service of strangers; but
this was a destiny to which I, who had so long enjoyed the pleasures of
independence and command, could not suddenly reconcile myself. It
occurred to me that the city might afford me an asylum. A short day's
journey would transport me into it. I had been there twice or thrice in
my life, but only for a few hours each time. I knew not a human face,
and was a stranger to its modes and dangers. I was qualified for no
employment, compatible with a town life, but that of the pen. This,
indeed, had ever been a favourite tool with me; and, though it may
appear somewhat strange, it is no less true that I had had nearly as
much practice at the quill as at the mattock. But the sum of my skill lay
in tracing distinct characters. I had used it merely to transcribe what
others had written, or to give form to my own conceptions. Whether the
city would afford me employment, as a mere copyist, sufficiently
lucrative, was a point on which I possessed no means of information.
My determination was hastened by the conduct of my new mother. My
conjectures as to the course she would pursue with regard to me had not
been erroneous. My father's deportment, in a short time, grew sullen
and austere. Directions were given in a magisterial tone, and any
remissness in the execution of his orders was rebuked with an air of
authority. At length these rebukes were followed by certain intimations
that I was now old enough to provide for myself; that it was time to
think of some employment by which I might secure a livelihood; that it
was a shame for me to spend my youth in idleness; that what he had
gained was by his own labour; and I must be indebted for my living to
the same source.
These hints were easily understood. At first, they excited indignation
and grief. I knew the source whence they sprung, and was merely able
to suppress the utterance of my feelings in her presence. My looks,
however, were abundantly significant, and my company became hourly
more insupportable. Abstracted from these considerations, my father's
remonstrances were not destitute of weight. He gave me being, but
sustenance ought surely to be my own gift. In the use of that for which
he had been indebted to his own exertions, he might reasonably consult
his own choice. He assumed no control over me; he merely did what he

would with his own, and, so far from fettering my liberty, he exhorted
me to use it for my own benefit, and to make provision for myself.
I now reflected that there were other manual occupations besides that of
the plough. Among these none had fewer disadvantages than that of
carpenter or cabinet-maker. I had no knowledge of this art; but neither
custom, nor law, nor the impenetrableness of the mystery, required me
to serve a seven years' apprenticeship to it. A master in this trade might
possibly be persuaded to take me under his tuition; two or three years
would suffice to give me the requisite skill. Meanwhile my father
would, perhaps, consent to bear the cost of my maintenance. Nobody
could live upon less than I was willing to do.
I mentioned these ideas to my father; but he merely commended my
intentions without offering to assist me in the execution of them. He
had full employment, he said, for all the profits of his ground. No doubt,
if I would bind myself to serve four or five years, my master would be
at the expense of my subsistence. Be that as it would, I must look for
nothing from him. I had shown very little regard for his happiness; I
had refused all marks of respect to a woman who was entitled to it from
her relation to him. He did not see why he should treat as a son one
who refused what was due to him as a father. He thought it right that I
should henceforth maintain myself. He did not want my services on the
farm, and the sooner I quitted his house the better.
I retired from this conference with a resolution to follow the advice that
was given.