No man likes to acknowledge that he has made a mistake in thechoice of his profession, and every man, worthy of the name, willrow long against wind and tide before he allows himself to cryout, "I am baffled!" and submits to be floated passively back toland. From the first week of my residence in X---- I felt myoccupation irksome. The thing itself--the work of copying andtranslating business-letters--was a dry and tedious task enough,but had that been all, I should long have borne with thenuisance; I am not of an impatient nature, and influenced by thedouble desire of getting my living and justifying to myself andothers the resolution I had taken to become a tradesman, I shouldhave endured in silence the rust and cramp of my best faculties;I should not have whispered, even inwardly, that I longed forliberty; I should have pent in every sigh by which my heart mighthave ventured to intimate its distress under the closeness,smoke, monotony and joyless tumult of Bigben Close, and itspanting desire for freer and fresher scenes; I should have set upthe image of Duty, the fetish of Perseverance, in my smallbedroom at Mrs. King's lodgings, and they two should have been myhousehold gods, from which my darling, my cherished-in-secret,Imagination, the tender and the mighty, should never, either bysoftness or strength, have severed me. But this was not all; theantipathy which had sprung up between myself and my employerstriking deeper root and spreading denser shade daily, excludedme from every glimpse of the sunshine of life; and I began tofeel like a plant growing in humid darkness out of the slimywalls of a well.

Antipathy is the only word which can express the feeling EdwardCrimsworth had for me--a feeling, in a great measure,involuntary, and which was liable to be excited by every, themost trifling movement, look, or word of mine. My southernaccent annoyed him; the degree of education evinced in mylanguage irritated him; my punctuality, industry, and accuracy,fixed his dislike, and gave it the high flavour and poignantrelish of envy; he feared that I too should one day make asuccessful tradesman. Had I been in anything inferior to him, hewould not have hated me so thoroughly, but I knew all that heknew, and, what was worse, he suspected that I kept the padlockof silence on mental wealth in which he was no sharer. If hecould have once placed me in a ridiculous or mortifying position,he would have forgiven me much, but I was guarded by threefaculties--Caution, Tact, Observation; and prowling and prying aswas Edward's malignity, it could never baffle the lynx-eyes ofthese, my natural sentinels. Day by day did his malice watch mytact, hoping it would sleep, and prepared to steal snake-like onits slumber; but tact, if it be genuine, never sleeps.

I had received my first quarter's wages, and was returning to mylodgings, possessed heart and soul with the pleasant feeling thatthe master who had paid me grudged every penny of thathard-earned pittance--(I had long ceased to regard Mr. Crimsworthas my brother--he was a hard, grinding master; he wished to be aninexorable tyrant: that was all). Thoughts, not varied butstrong, occupied my mind; two voices spoke within me; again andagain they uttered the same monotonous phrases. One said:"William, your life is intolerable." The other: "What can youdo to alter it?" I walked fast, for it was a cold, frosty nightin January; as I approached my lodgings, I turned from a generalview of my affairs to the particular speculation as to whether myfire would be out; looking towards the window of my sitting-room,I saw no cheering red gleam.

"That slut of a servant has neglected it as usual," said I, "andI shall see nothing but pale ashes if I go in; it is a finestarlight night--I will walk a little farther."

It WAS a fine night, and the streets were dry and even clean forX----; there was a crescent curve of moonlight to be seen by theparish church tower, and hundreds of stars shone keenly bright inall quarters of the sky.

Unconsciously I steered my course towards the country; I had gotinto Grove-street, and began to feel the pleasure of seeing dimtrees at the extremity, round a suburban house, when a personleaning over the iron gate of one of the small gardens whichfront the neat dwelling-houses in this street, addressed me as Iwas hurrying with quick stride past.

"What the deuce is the hurry? Just so must Lot have left Sodom,when he expected fire to pour down upon it, out of burning brassclouds."

I stopped short, and looked towards the speaker. I smelt thefragrance, and saw the red spark of a cigar; the dusk outline ofa man, too, bent towards me over the wicket.

"You see I am meditating in the field at eventide," continuedthis shade. "God knows it's cool work! especially as instead ofRebecca on a camel's hump, with bracelets on her arms and a ringin her nose, Fate sends me only a counting-house clerk, in a greytweed wrapper." The voice was familiar to me--its secondutterance enabled me to seize the speaker's identity.

"Mr. Hunsden! good evening."

"Good evening, indeed! yes, but you would have passed me withoutrecognition if I had not been so civil as to speak first."

"I did not know you."

"A famous excuse! You ought to have known me; I knew you, thoughyou were going ahead like a steam-engine. Are the police afteryou?"

"It wouldn't be worth their while; I'm not of consequence enoughto attract them.

"Alas, poor shepherd! Alack and well-a-day! What a theme forregret, and how down in the mouth you must be, judging from thesound of your voice! But since you're not running from thepolice, from whom are you running? the devil?"

"On the contrary, I am going post to him."

"That is well--you're just in luck: this is Tuesday evening;there are scores of market gigs and carts returning to Dinnefordto-night; and he, or some of his, have a seat in all regularly;so, if you'll step in and sit half-an-hour in my bachelor'sparlour, you may catch him as he passes without much trouble. Ithink though you'd better let him alone to-night, he'll have somany customers to serve; Tuesday is his busy day in X---- andDinneford; come in at all events."

He swung the wicket open as he spoke.

"Do you really wish me to go in?" I asked.

"As you please--I'm alone; your company for an hour or two wouldbe agreeable to me; but, if you don't choose to favour me so far,I'll not press the point. I hate to bore any one."

It suited me to accept the invitation as it suited Hunsden togive it. I passed through the gate, and followed him to thefront door, which he opened; thence we traversed a passage, andentered his parlour; the door being shut, he pointed me to asarm-chair by the hearth; I sat down, and glanced round me.

It was a comfortable room, at once snug and handsome; the brightgrate was filled with a genuine ----shire fire, red, clear, andgenerous, no penurious South-of-England embers heaped in thecorner of a grate. On the table a shaded lamp diffused around asoft, pleasant, and equal light; the furniture was almostluxurious for a young bachelor, comprising a couch and two veryeasy chairs; bookshelves filled the recesses on each side of themantelpiece; they were well-furnished, and arranged with perfectorder. The neatness of the room suited my taste; I hateirregular and slovenly habits. From what I saw I concluded thatHunsden's ideas on that point corresponded with my own. While heremoved from the centre-table to the side-board a few pamphletsand periodicals, I ran my eye along the shelves of the book-casenearest me. French and German works predominated, the old Frenchdramatists, sundry modern authors, Thiers, Villemain, Paul deKock, George Sand, Eugene Sue; in German--Goethe, Schiller,Zschokke, Jean Paul Richter; in English there were works onPolitical Economy. I examined no further, for Mr. Hunsdenhimself recalled my attention.

"You shall have something," said he, "for you ought to feeldisposed for refreshment after walking nobody knows how far onsuch a Canadian night as this; but it shall not bebrandy-and-water, and it shall not be a bottle of port, nor dittoof sherry. I keep no such poison. I have Rhein-wein for my owndrinking, and you may choose between that and coffee."

Here again Hunsden suited me: if there was one generallyreceived practice I abhorred more than another, it was thehabitual imbibing of spirits and strong wines. I had, however,no fancy for his acid German nectar, but I liked coffee, so Iresponded--

"Give me some coffee, Mr. Hunsden."

I perceived my answer pleased him; he had doubtless expected tosee a chilling effect produced by his steady announcement that hewould give me neither wine nor spirits; he just shot onesearching glance at my face to ascertain whether my cordialitywas genuine or a mere feint of politeness. I smiled, because Iquite understood him; and, while I honoured his conscientiousfirmness, I was amused at his mistrust; he seemed satisfied, rangthe bell, and ordered coffee, which was presently brought; forhimself, a bunch of grapes and half a pint of something soursufficed. My coffee was excellent; I told him so, and expressedthe shuddering pity with which his anchorite fare inspired me.He did not answer, and I scarcely think heard my remark. Atthat moment one of those momentary eclipses I before alluded tohad come over his face, extinguishing his smile, and replacing,by an abstracted and alienated look, the customarily shrewd,bantering glance of his eye. I employed the interval of silencein a rapid scrutiny of his physiognomy. I had never observed himclosely before; and, as my sight is very short, I had gatheredonly a vague, general idea of his appearance; I was surprisednow, on examination, to perceive how small, and even feminine,were his lineaments; his tall figure, long and dark locks, hisvoice and general bearing, had impressed me with the notion ofsomething powerful and massive; not at all:--my own features werecast in a harsher and squarer mould than his. I discerned thatthere would be contrasts between his inward and outward man;contentions, too; for I suspected his soul had more of will andambition than his body had of fibre and muscle. Perhaps, in theseincompatibilities of the "physique" with the "morale," lay thesecret of that fitful gloom; he WOULD but COULD not, and theathletic mind scowled scorn on its more fragile companion. As tohis good looks, I should have liked to have a woman's opinion onthat subject; it seemed to me that his face might produce thesame effect on a lady that a very piquant and interesting, thoughscarcely pretty, female face would on a man. I have mentionedhis dark locks--they were brushed sideways above a white andsufficiently expansive forehead; his cheek had a rather hecticfreshness; his features might have done well on canvas, butindifferently in marble: they were plastic; character had set astamp upon each; expression re-cast them at her pleasure, andstrange metamorphoses she wrought, giving him now the mien of amorose bull, and anon that of an arch and mischievous girl; morefrequently, the two semblances were blent, and a queer, compositecountenance they made.

Starting from his silent fit, he began:--

"William! what a fool you are to live in those dismal lodgingsof Mrs. King's, when you might take rooms here in Grove Street,and have a garden like me!"

"I should be too far from the mill."

"What of that? It would do you good to walk there and back twoor three times a day; besides, are you such a fossil that younever wish to see a flower or a green leaf?"

"I am no fossil."

What are you then? You sit at that desk in Crimsworth'scounting-house day by day and week by week, scraping with a penon paper, just like an automaton; you never get up; you never sayyou are tired; you never ask for a holiday; you never take changeor relaxation; you give way to no excess of an evening; youneither keep wild company, nor indulge in strong drink."

"Do you, Mr. Hunsden?"

"Don't think to pose me with short questions; your case and mineare diametrically different, and it is nonsense attempting todraw a parallel. I say, that when a man endures patiently whatought to be unendurable, he is a fossil."

"Whence do you acquire the knowledge of my patience?"

"Why, man, do you suppose you are a mystery? The other night youseemed surprised at my knowing to what family you belonged; nowyou find subject for wonderment in my calling you patient. Whatdo you think I do with my eyes and ears? I've been in yourcounting-house more than once when Crimsworth has treated youlike a dog; called for a book, for instance, and when you gavehim the wrong one, or what he chose to consider the wrong one,flung it back almost in your face; desired you to shut or openthe door as if you had been his flunkey; to say nothing of yourposition at the party about a month ago, where you had neitherplace nor partner, but hovered about like a poor, shabbyhanger-on; and how patient you were under each and all of thesecircumstances!"

"Well, Mr. Hunsden, what then?"

"I can hardly tell you what then; the conclusion to be drawn asto your character depends upon the nature of the motives whichguide your conduct; if you are patient because you expect to makesomething eventually out of Crimsworth, notwithstanding histyranny, or perhaps by means of it, you are what the world callsan interested and mercenary, but may be a very wise fellow; ifyou are patient because you think it a duty to meet insult withsubmission, you are an essential sap, and in no shape the man formy money; if you are patient because your nature is phlegmatic,flat, inexcitable, and that you cannot get up to the pitch ofresistance, why, God made you to be crushed; and lie down by allmeans, and lie flat, and let Juggernaut ride well over you."

Mr. Hunsden's eloquence was not, it will be perceived, of thesmooth and oily order. As he spoke, he pleased me ill. I seemto recognize in him one of those characters who, sensitive enoughthemselves, are selfishly relentless towards the sensitiveness ofothers. Moreover, though he was neither like Crimsworth nor LordTynedale, yet he was acrid, and, I suspected, overbearing in hisway: there was a tone of despotism in the urgency of the veryreproaches by which, he aimed at goading the oppressed intorebellion against the oppressor. Looking at him still morefixedly than I had yet done, I saw written in his eye and mien aresolution to arrogate to himself a freedom so unlimited that itmight often trench on the just liberty of his neighbours. Irapidly ran over these thoughts, and then I laughed a low andinvoluntary laugh, moved thereto by a slight inward revelation ofthe inconsistency of man. It was as I thought: Hunsden hadexpected me to take with calm his incorrect and offensivesurmises, his bitter and haughty taunts; and himself was chafedby a laugh, scarce louder than a whisper.

His brow darkened, his thin nostril dilated a little.

"Yes," he began, "I told you that you were an aristocrat, and whobut an aristocrat would laugh such a laugh as that, and look sucha look? A laugh frigidly jeering; a look lazily mutinous;gentlemanlike irony, patrician resentment. What a nobleman youwould have made, William Crimsworth! You are cut out for one;pity Fortune has baulked Nature! Look at the features, figure,even to the hands--distinction all over--ugly distinction!Now, if you'd only an estate and a mansion, and a park, and atitle, how you could play the exclusive, maintain the rights ofyour class, train your tenantry in habits of respect to thepeerage, oppose at every step the advancing power of the people,support your rotten order, and be ready for its sake to wadeknee-deep in churls' blood; as it is, you've no power; you cando nothing; you're wrecked and stranded on the shores ofcommerce; forced into collision with practical men, with whomyou cannot cope, for YOU'LL NEVER BE A TRADESMAN."

The first part of Hunsden's speech moved me not at all, or, if itdid, it was only to wonder at the perversion into which prejudicehad twisted his judgment of my character; the concludingsentence, however, not only moved, but shook me; the blow it gavewas a severe one, because Truth wielded the weapon. If I smilednow, it, was only in disdain of myself.

Hunsden saw his advantage; he followed it up.

"You'll make nothing by trade," continued he; "nothing more thanthe crust of dry bread and the draught of fair water on which younow live; your only chance of getting a competency lies inmarrying a rich widow, or running away with an heiress."

"I leave such shifts to be put in practice by those who devisethem," said I, rising.

"And even that is hopeless," he went on coolly. "What widowwould have you? Much less, what heiress? You're not bold andventuresome enough for the one, nor handsome and fascinatingenough for the other. You think perhaps you look intelligent andpolished; carry your intellect and refinement to market, and tellme in a private note what price is bid for them."

Mr. Hunsden had taken his tone for the night; the string hestruck was out of tune, he would finger no other. Averse todiscord, of which I had enough every day and all day long, Iconcluded, at last, that silence and solitude were preferable tojarring converse; I bade him good-night.

"What! Are you going, lad? Well, good-night: you'll find thedoor." And he sat still in front of the fire, while I left theroom and the house. I had got a good way on my return to mylodgings before I found out that I was walking very fast, andbreathing very hard, and that my nails were almost stuck into thepalms of my clenched hands, and that my teeth were set fast; onmaking this discovery, I relaxed both my pace, fists, and jaws,but I could not so soon cause the regrets rushing rapidly throughmy mind to slacken their tide. Why did I make myself atradesman? Why did I enter Hunsden's house this evening? Why,at dawn to-morrow, must I repair to Crimsworth's mill? All thatnight did I ask myself these questions, and all that nightfiercely demanded of my soul an answer. I got no sleep; my headburned, my feet froze; at last the factory bells rang, and Isprang from my bed with other slaves.