"Brother Jacob" by George Eliot tells the story of David Faux, a selfish and ambitious confectioner who assumes a new identity and amasses a fortune, but ultimately faces downfall and rejection when his deceit and greed are exposed.
Chapter 1 The Childhood of David Faux Part I
Among the many fatalities attending the bloom of young desire, that of
blindly taking to the confectionery line has not, perhaps, been sufficiently
considered. How is the son of a British yeoman, who has been fed
principally on salt pork and yeast dumplings, to know that there is satiety
for the human stomach even in a paradise of glass jars full of sugared
almonds and pink lozenges, and that the tedium of life can reach a pitch
where plum-buns at discretion cease to offer the slightest excitement? Or
how, at the tender age when a confectioner seems to him a very prince
whom all the world must envy--who breakfasts on macaroons, dines on
meringues, sups on twelfth-cake, and fills up the intermediate hours with
sugar-candy or peppermint--how is he to foresee the day of sad wisdom,
when he will discern that the confectioner's calling is not socially
influential, or favourable to a soaring ambition? I have known a man who
turned out to have a metaphysical genius, incautiously, in the period of
youthful buoyancy, commence his career as a dancing-master; and you
may imagine the use that was made of this initial mistake by opponents
who felt themselves bound to warn the public against his doctrine of the
Inconceivable. He could not give up his dancing-lessons, because he
made his bread by them, and metaphysics would not have found him in
so much as salt to his bread. It was really the same with Mr. David Faux
and the confectionery business. His uncle, the butler at the great house
close by Brigford, had made a pet of him in his early boyhood, and it was
on a visit to this uncle that the confectioners' shops in that brilliant town
had, on a single day, fired his tender imagination. He carried home the
pleasing illusion that a confectioner must be at once the happiest and the
foremost of men, since the things he made were not only the most
beautiful to behold, but the very best eating, and such as the Lord Mayor
must always order largely for his private recreation; so that when his
father declared he must be put to a trade, David chose his line without a
moment's hesitation; and, with a rashness inspired by a sweet tooth, wedded himself irrevocably to confectionery. Soon, however, the tooth
lost its relish and fell into blank indifference; and all the while, his mind
expanded, his ambition took new shapes, which could hardly be satisfied
within the sphere his youthful ardour had chosen. But what was he to do?
He was a young man of much mental activity, and, above all, gifted with
a spirit of contrivance; but then, his faculties would not tell with great
effect in any other medium than that of candied sugars, conserves, and
pastry. Say what you will about the identity of the reasoning process in all
branches of thought, or about the advantage of coming to subjects with a
fresh mind, the adjustment of butter to flour, and of heat to pastry, is not
the best preparation for the office of prime minister; besides, in the
present imperfectly-organized state of society, there are social barriers.
David could invent delightful things in the way of drop-cakes, and he had
the widest views of the sugar department; but in other directions he
certainly felt hampered by the want of knowledge and practical skill; and
the world is so inconveniently constituted, that the vague consciousness
of being a fine fellow is no guarantee of success in any line of business.
This difficulty pressed with some severity on Mr. David Faux, even before
his apprenticeship was ended. His soul swelled with an impatient sense
that he ought to become something very remarkable--that it was quite
out of the question for him to put up with a narrow lot as other men did:
he scorned the idea that he could accept an average. He was sure there
was nothing average about him: even such a person as Mrs. Tibbits, the
washer- woman, perceived it, and probably had a preference for his linen.
At that particular period he was weighing out gingerbread nuts; but such
an anomaly could not continue. No position could be suited to Mr. David
Faux that was not in the highest degree easy to the flesh and flattering to
the spirit. If he had fallen on the present times, and enjoyed the
advantages of a Mechanic's Institute, he would certainly have taken to
literature and have written reviews; but his education had not been
liberal. He had read some novels from the adjoining circulating library,
and had even bought the story of Inkle and Yarico, which had made him
feel very sorry for poor Mr. Inkle; so that his ideas might not have been
below a certain mark of the literary calling; but his spelling and diction
were too unconventional.
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