Memoirs of Carwin the Biloquist (A Fragment)

ch I had formed. The time and place suitable to my design, were not selected without much anxious inquiry and frequent waverings of purpose. These being at length fixed, the interval to elapse

pes and my present destitute condition. He listened to my tale with no expressions of sympathy, and when I had finished, abruptly inquired whether I had any objecti

d to me as an insuperable objection. On this being mentioned, Oho! said he, carelessl

, made me doubt the sincerity of his offer, and when new declarations removed this doubt, I

the sum of human duty, and he that fell short, ran beside, or outstripped justice was a criminal. What he gave me was my due or not my due. If it were my du

The rectitude of my principles and conduct would be the measure of his approbation, and no benefit should he

ind. I had never traced them into their practical consequences, and if his conduct on this occasion had not squared with his maxims, I should

I mean to subsist, he asked, in my own country? The means of living would be, at least, as much within my reach there as here. As to the pressure of immediate and absolute want, he believed

hurtful and vitious things, and therefore carefully abstained from making or confiding in promises. It was just to assist me in this voyage, and it would probably be equally just to continue to me similar assistance when it

t be changed for a worse; I trusted to the constancy of Ludloe's friendship; to this at least it was better to trust than to the

de ourselves, so that my own condition and the character of Ludloe, continually presented the

ble tenor, and his thoughts and words always to flow with the same rapidity. His slumber was profound and his wakeful hours serene.

e standard. Certain scruples and delicacies were incident to my situation. Of the existence of these h

ns of politeness hindered me from making direct inquiries. By indirect means I could gather nothing but t

light was let in upon the former transactions of his life. The purpose of hi

industry or sources of permanent revenue, the world appeared to me an ocean on which my bark was set afloat, without compass or sail. The world into whi

the liberal professions were censured as perverting the understanding, by giving scope to the sordid motive of gain, or embuing the mind with erroneous principles. Skill was slowly obtained, and success, though integrity and independence must be given for it, dubious and instabl

uit, which though not free from defect should yet have the fewest inconveniences. He dwelt on the fewness of our actual wants, the temptations which at

d from all allusions to this theme and endeavoured to divert my own reflections from it. When our voyage should be finished, and

oper for me to repair, he gave me a blunt but cordial invitation to his house. My circumstances allowed me no option and I readily complied. My attention was for a time engrossed by a divers

furnished library. My food was furnished in my own room, prepared in the manner which I had previously directed. Occasionally Ludloe would request my company to breakfast, when an hour was usually consu

ce and liberty. Society would never be exempt from servitude and misery, till those artificial ties which held human beings together under the same roof were dissolved. He endeavoured to regulate his own conduct in pursuance of these principles, and to secure to

olitude in which I lived became daily more painful. I ate and drank, enjoyed clothing and shelter, without the exercise of forethought or indust

cupations and views. With all his ingenuousness of aspect and overflow of thoughts, when he allowed m

ccess to any social circle or domestic fireside. Add to this, my own obscure prospects and dubious situation. Some