Newton Forster | Page 8

a mill,

heaping up riches, knowing not who should gather them; not from
avarice, but from long habit, which rendered his profession not only his
pleasure, but essential to his very existence. Edward Forster had not
seen him for nearly twenty years; the last time was when he passed
through London upon his retirement from the service. Indeed, as they
never corresponded (for there was nothing in common between them),
it is a matter of doubt whether Jock was exactly aware which of his
brothers remained alive; and had it been a subject of interest, he would,
in all probability, have referred to the former letters of his father and
mother, as legal documents, to ascertain who was remaining of his kin.
The next surviving son was yclept (there's something very consonant in
that word) Nicholas. The Reverend Mr Forster, who had no inheritance
to bequeath to his family except a good name, which, although better
than riches, will not always procure for a man one penny loaf, naturally
watched for any peculiar symptoms of genius in his children which
might designate one of the various paths to wealth and fame by which
it would be most easy for the individual to ascend. Now it did occur
that when Nicholas was yet in womanish attire, he showed a great
partiality to a burning-glass, with which he contrived to do much
mischief. He would burn the dog's nose as he slept in the sun before the
door. His mother's gown showed proofs of his genius by sundry little
round holes, which were considerably increased each time that it
returned from the wash. Nay, heretical and damnable as is the fact, his
father's surplice was as a moth-eaten garment from the repeated and
insidious attacks of this young philosopher. The burning-glass decided
his fate. He was bound apprentice to an optical and mathematical
instrument maker; from which situation he was, if possible, to emerge
into the highest grade of the profession; but somehow or another, a
want of ambition or of talent did not permit him to ascend the scale,
and he now kept a shop in the small seaport town of Overton, where he
repaired damaged articles of science--a watch one day, a quadrant or a
compass another; but his chief employment and his chief forte lay in
telescopes; and accordingly, a large board, with "Nicholas Forster,
Optician," surmounted the small shop window, at which he was
invariably to be seen at his employment. He was an eccentric person,
one of those who had narrowly escaped being clever; but there was an

obliquity in his mind which would not admit of lucid order and
arrangement. In the small town where he resided, he continued to pick
up a decent sustenance; for he had no competitor, and was looked upon
as a man of considerable ability. He was the only one of the three
brothers who had ventured upon wedlock. But of this part of our
history we shall at present say no more than that he had an only child,
and had married his wife, to use his own expression, because she suited
his focus.
Edward Forster, the youngest, whom we have already introduced to the
reader, showed strong nautical propensities; he swam nut-shells in a
puddle, and sent pieces of lath with paper sails floating down the brook
which gurgled by the parsonage. This was circumstantial evidence: he
was convicted, and ordered off to sea, to return a Nelson. For his
conduct during the time he served her, Edward Forster certainly
deserved well of his country; and had he been enabled to continue in
his profession, would in all probability have risen by his merit to its
highest grades; but having served his time as midshipman, he received
a desperate wound in "cutting out," and shortly after obtained his
promotion to the rank of lieutenant for his gallant conduct. His wound
was of that severe description that he was obliged to quit the service,
and, for a time, retire upon his half-pay. For many years he looked
forward to the period when he could resume his career:--but in vain; the
wound broke out again and again; fresh splinters of the bone
continually worked out, and he was doomed to constant disappointment.
At last it healed; but years of suffering had quenched the ardour of
youth, and when he did apply for employment, his services had been
forgotten. He received a cool negative, almost consonant to his wishes:
and returned, without feeling mortified, to the cottage we have
described, where he lived a secluded yet not unhappy life. His wants
were few, and his half-pay more than adequate to supply them. A
happy contemplative indolence, arising from a well-cultivated mind,
feeding rather upon its previous acquirements than adding to its
store--an equanimity of