The master stared still more. But, after a short time, he consented to article Uncle John, and to continue his salary during the term of his articles. Uncle John was in ecstasies, and so far forgot his usual prudence that evening as to indulge in half a pint of bad port wine—a taste, by the way, which he has retained to this day.
He was now a happy man. Every thing was "en train" now to make him one day a "gentleman by Act of Parliament"—as attorneys are facetiously termed. It would certainly require something more than even the omnipotence of an Act of Parliament to confer the character on some of the fraternity.
During the first year of his articles the managing clerk died, and Uncle John was promoted to that office with a salary of two hundred a year. Here was, indeed, a rise in life—from seven shillings a week to two hundred a year! Happy Uncle John. But you deserved it all; for you had plenty of the courage which is prepared for all ills, and endures those which it can not conquer.
Long before the five years of his articles had expired, the clerk had made himself so absolutely necessary to the master, that the latter could scarcely have carried on the business for a month without him. Therefore, when the time arrived at which he ceased to be a clerk and became himself an attorney, Uncle John hinted to his master that he was going to leave him. Cunning Uncle John! You had no such intention; but you knew that your master would take alarm, beg you to stay, and offer you a partnership. Of course—and he did so.
Uncle John's path in life was from henceforth comparatively smooth. He was the working partner in a business which was both profitable and of good quality. Within a few years his partner was foolish enough to quarrel with him, and to demand a dissolution of the partnership. Uncle John readily consented, and all the clients knowing well who was the man that understood the business and transacted it, followed him; and he became an attorney with a practice of two thousand a year, and no partner to share the profits.
His economical habits never forsook him. He married and kept a decent table; but save in a love of good wine (or at least what his uneducated taste considered so), he had nothing but the ordinary necessaries of life. How much he saved each year who shall say? He had no children, and his practice increasing while his wants stood still, he became what he is now—a prosperous and highly respected old gentleman.
It is the fashion of the old to point out such men as models for the imitation of the rising generation. The young, on the contrary, make them the subjects of their ridicule, for their bad grammar and worse manners. Let us see if we can find out the truth, unbiased by either party. Uncle John is now a rich man, an honorable man, a hardworking man, and in the main a sensible man. He has attained his position in life by patience, perseverance, and industry, favored also by a little of that good luck to which we first referred. But Uncle John is deficient in many of the characteristics which adorn human nature. Is it not natural that he should be so? Where was he to learn the gentler feelings of his kind—affection, sympathy, benevolence? In his garret, alone and unfriended? He is mean and parsimonious. He is worth forty thousand pounds, and his deceased brother's child is starving with his wife in a suburban garret. Uncle John will not aid him with a penny. Who aided him? Did he not live in a garret, and save money too? Was he such a fool as to marry before he could keep a wife? Uncle John was guilty of no weaknesses in those days; he can not forgive them in another.
His only brother dies, leaving a large family and a widow—unprovided for: for the children have eaten up all he could ever earn. Uncle John does not like the widow (perhaps because she had so many children), but he gives her £50 a year. His own income is about four thousand.
His only sister is also left a widow without a sixpence. Uncle John gives her £50 a year. "People should not marry imprudently. He can afford no more; he has a great many calls upon him." Perhaps so; but the answer to such calls is always, "not at home."
He has many clerks now. He makes them all work twelve hours a day. Why not? He worked twelve hours a day.