ABSTRACT
I was too young in years when I entered my uncle’s mansion, to have a clear notion of what were the first impressions I received there. I remember only the silence, the monotony, and the gloom, that pervaded it. My uncle had his apartments; and I and my tutor had ours. It was a general rule through the house, that no one was to intrude on the master uncalled for. If by any rare accident I came within sight of him unexpectedly, I was instructed to hide myself, to steal away with cautious steps, and to do nothing that might excite observation. My education was / grave and sad; but if the restlessness of boyish years chanced at any time to awake me to a gayer tone, the sight of my uncle checked my buoyant spirits at once, my countenance fell, and my thoughts became solemn. No emotion however of aversion or dislike ever accompanied this. A harsh word never fell from his lips; an angry tone never escaped him. The only expression of displeasure of which he seemed capable, was some gesture showing that he suffered and was distressed, but always without any token of resentment, or word of reproof. I thought therefore of my uncle with awe, never with fear. I saw in him a mysterious being exciting my wonder, and in whom I was ever most unwilling to occasion displeasure; but at the same time a being incapable of inflicting the smallest mischief. It is strange, but from my own experience I can aver it to be true, that this silent, inoffensive, and mournful carriage, rendered it a thousand times more / impossible for me ever to forget the attention that was due to him, than the fiercest tones and the most passionate demeanour could have established in my mind.
