The Monctons | Page 6

how much I love you--more, my poor
boy, than I dare own. But rest assured that you shall never want a
mother's love while I live."
Well and conscientiously did she perform her promise. She has long
been dead, but time will never efface from my mind a tender
recollection of her kindness. Since I arrived at man's estate, I have knelt
beside her grave, and moistened the turf which enfolds that warm,
noble heart with grateful tears.
She had, as I before stated, one son--the first-born and only survivor of
a large family. This boy was a great source of anxiety to his mother; a
sullen, unmanageable, ill-tempered child. Cruel and cowardly, he
united with the cold, selfish disposition of the father, a jealous, proud
and vindictive spirit peculiarly his own. It was impossible to keep on
friendly terms with Theophilus Moncton: he was always taking affronts,
and ever on the alert to dispute and contradict every word or opinion
advanced by another. He would take offence at every look and gesture,
which he fancied derogatory to his dignity; and if you refused to speak
to him, he considered that you did not pay him proper respect--that you
slighted and insulted him.
He was afraid of his father, for whom he entertained little esteem or
affection; and to his gentle mother he was always surly and disobedient;
ridiculing her maternal admonitions, and thwarting and opposing her
commands, because he knew that his opposition pained and annoyed
her.
Me--he hated; and not only told me so to my face, both in public and
private, but encouraged the servants to treat me with insolence and
neglect. This class of individuals are seldom actuated by high and
generous motives; and anxious to court the favour of their wealthy
master's heir, they soon found that the best way to worm themselves
into his good graces, was to treat me with disrespect. The taunts and
blows of my tyrannical cousin, though hard to bear, never wounded me

so keenly as the sneers and whispered remarks of these worldly,
low-bred domestics. Their conduct clenched the iron of dependence
into my very soul.
It was vain for my aunt to remonstrate with her son on his ungenerous
conduct: her authority with him was a mere cipher, he had his father
upon his side, and for my aunt's sake, I forebore to complain.
CHAPTER IV.
THE TUTOR.
My uncle did not send us to school, but engaged a young man of
humble birth, but good classical attainments, to act in the capacity of
tutor to his son, and as an act of especial favour, which fact was duly
impressed upon me from day to day, I was allowed the benefit of his
instructions.
Mr. Jones, though a good practical teacher, was a weak, mean creature,
possessing the very soul of a sneak. He soon discovered that the best
way to please his elder pupil was to neglect and treat me ill. He had
been engaged on a very moderate salary to teach one lad, and he was
greatly annoyed when Mr. Moncton introduced me into his presence,
coldly remarking, "that I was an orphan son of his brother--a lad
thrown upon his charity, and it would add very little to Mr. Jones's
labours to associate me with Theophilus in his studies."
Mr. Jones was poor and friendless, and had to make his own way in the
world. He dared not resent the imposition, for fear of losing his
situation, and while outwardly he cheerfully acquiesced in Mr.
Moncton's proposition, he conceived a violent prejudice against me, as
being the cause of it.
He was spiteful, irritable, narrow-minded man; and I soon found that
any attempt to win his regard, or conciliate him, was futile: he had
made up his mind to dislike me, and he did so with a hearty good will
which no attention or assiduity on my part could overcome.

Theophilus, who, like his father, professed a great insight into character,
read that of his instructor at a glance; and despised him accordingly.
But Theophilus was vain and fond of admiration, and could not exist
without satellites to move around him, and render him their homage as
to a superior luminary. He was a magnificent paymaster to his sneaks;
and bound them to him with the strongest of all ties--his purse-strings.
Mr. Moncton, allowed this lad a handsome sum monthly for his own
private expenses; and fond as he was of money, he never inquired of
the haughty arrogant boy, the manner in which he disposed of his
pocket-money. He might save or spend it as inclination prompted--he
considered it a necessary outlay to give his son weight and influence
with others; and never troubled himself about it again.
Theophilus soon won over Mr. Jones to his