THE 
 
 WAY TO PEOSPER, 
 
 IN UNION THLRE IS STRENGTH. 
 
 AND OTHER TALES. 
 
 BY T. S. ARTHUR. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 
 L. P. CROWN & CO., 61 CORNHILL. 
 1853.
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1851, by 
 T. S. ARTHUR, 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, in 
 and for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 THE purpose of the Author in writing this book, 
 has been to show the power of virtue, harmony, and 
 fraternal affection among the younger members of 
 a family, in securing their future well-being and 
 prosperity. "In Union there is Strength." So 
 trite is this saying, that the world seems almost to 
 have forgotten its value, or no longer to regard it 
 as a practical principle. The old man, who, as the 
 story goes, brought to his children a bundle of sticks, 
 understood the meaning of this sentiment fully. 
 "Take, my sons," said, he, "each of you a stick and 
 break it." The children obeyed, and the fragile 
 rods were broken in their hands with scarcely an 
 effort. Then he gathered the sticks together into a 
 single compact bundle, and bade them try again; 
 but union had given strength to the slender branches, 
 and though each tried with his utmost power, yet 
 the bundle of sticks was scarcely bent, much less 
 
 broken. " Let it be thus with you in life, my child- 
 
 5 
 
 916 '
 
 PKEFACE. 
 
 ren," said the father. " Stand close together, mu 
 tually sustaining each other, and you need have no 
 fear of those who are against you." 
 
 The tendency of what is opposite, is also shown, 
 by a contrast of character, in this volume ; so that 
 while the book gives motives for fraternal union, it 
 pictures the sad consequences of discord in families, 
 and shows how selfishness, ill-nature, and disregard 
 of a brother's welfare, are evil seeds sown in early 
 life, to yield, in after years, a plentiful harvest of 
 disappointment, shame and misfortune.
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 TWD bright looking boys, each in his fourteenth 
 year, stood talking one afternoon, a little before 
 sundown, at a point where two roads met. Tho 
 books under their arms showed them to be on their 
 way from school. They were conversing about the 
 future. Both were sons of farmers in moderate 
 circumstances; and, as they were the oldest, it came 
 to their turn first to leave the nest of home and go 
 out into the world. 
 
 "Father says," remarked one of them, whose 
 name was Victor Stevens, " that I ought to go to 
 school a year longer. But I think I'm old enough 
 to get my own living. As for more learning, I can 
 gain that myself. It will be seven years before 
 I'm a man, and in that time I can study a good 
 deal and not neglect any work I may have to do." 
 
 " My father," said the other boy, named Peter 
 Close, " thinks I've had enough schooling. He 
 says that he never went to school but three months 
 in his life, and believes that one-half the boys now- 
 a-days, are ruined by too much learning. When 
 did you say you were going to leave school ?" 
 
 2b (7)
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 " I want to leave at the end of this quarter, 
 though I'm afraid father wont consent to it." 
 
 " It will be up in three weeks." 
 
 " I know. Mother says I must go at least two 
 quarters more ; but, I think I can get father over 
 to my side." 
 
 "Mother says I shan't go to Boston; for she 
 knows it will be the ruination of me," said Peter. 
 " But I mean to go there, if I have to run away. 
 She wants to put me to Mr. Joice, the carpenter. 
 But I won't be a carpenter." 
 
 " I am going to Boston when I leave school," 
 remarked Victor. " Father and mother have both 
 agreed to that. It is only about the time of my 
 leaving home that there is any difference, but this 
 will all come out right. They are older than I am, 
 and know best ; and if they still think I ought to re 
 main at school awhile longer, I will try to be con 
 tented." 
 
 The two lads now parted. Victor walked along 
 thoughtfully, and more with the air of a man than 
 a boy. He had two brothers, younger than himself, 
 who were to be raised and educated. Every year 
 the family was becoming more expensive ; and, as 
 the income from the little farm was small, and his 
 father and mother had to work very hard, he felt 
 that it was not right for him to burden them any 
 longer. He had already said so at home, but his 
 parents wished him still to go to school. He was 
 too young, in their view, to pass entirely from under 
 their protection, away into a great city, where 
 temptations were spread on every side for the feet of 
 the youthful and unwary. Victor thought differently.
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 "When the boy arrived at home, it was nearly sun 
 down. A man, who was a stranger to him, parted 
 with his father, just before he came up, and rode 
 away. At supper time Mr. Stevens, who was 
 usually cheerful, remained silent during the meal, 
 and ate but little. Victor noticed this, and, as he 
 had begun to observe and sympathize with his father 
 in his cares and burdens, the change troubled him, 
 and he very naturally attributed it to the visit of 
 the stranger. 
 
 " Who was that man I met at the gate ?" inquired 
 the lad, as soon as he was alone with his mother 
 after supper. 
 
 The question caused a shade to fall over the 
 countenance of Mrs. Stevens. She replied to the 
 question : 
 
 " Two years ago, you remember that we lost all 
 our stock. A disease broke out among them, and 
 carried off three valuable horses, two cows and 
 thirty sheep." 
 
 The boy remembered the circumstance very well. 
 
 " In -order to get stock again, your father had to 
 borrow two hundred dollars, for which he gave a 
 mortgage on his farm ? That is, he gave the man 
 from whom the money was borrowed the right to 
 sell the farm and pay himself if he could not obtain 
 his money in any other way. Up to this time the 
 mortgage has remained, your father not having 
 been able to pay off any part of it. The man you 
 saw is the one from whom the money was bor 
 rowed." 
 
 "And does he want it paid back?" asked Vic 
 tor.
 
 10 THE WAT TO PROSPER. 
 
 " Yes, my son. It was to say this to your father 
 that he called. But ihe expense of our large family 
 has been so great that we have not saved anything. 
 I don't know what we will do. Your father is very 
 much troubled." 
 
 " Will the man sell the farm ?" asked Victor, who 
 felt deeply interested in what he heard, and fully 
 comprehended the unhappy position of his father. 
 
 " I hope not. He is not a selfish man. But he 
 is in want of money. Your father thought when 
 he borrowed it, that at least one half could be re 
 turned in a year ; but two years have rolled away 
 and not a dollar has been paid on the debt." 
 
 " And every day father's expenses are growing 
 heavier," said Victor, in his thoughtful, serious 
 way. 
 
 " Yes that is just the truth. I don't know what 
 we are going to do." 
 
 Mrs. Stevens spoke in a desponding voice. The 
 entrance of some one at the moment broke off the 
 conversation. It made a strong impression on the 
 mind of the boy. All his liveliest sympathies were 
 awakened for his father, whom he saw staggering 
 along under burdens that were almost too heavy to 
 be borne. He lay awake for hours after going to 
 bed, thinking about what he had heard, and musing 
 over plans for the future. On the next morning, 
 when he came down from his room, he saw his father 
 in the little path that ran by the door, walking 
 backwards and forwards, with his hands behind him 
 and his eyes upon the ground. After reflecting for 
 some moments, the boy went out and joined him, 
 saying as he did so
 
 THE WAT TO PROSPER. 11 
 
 " I think, father, you'd better let me leave school 
 at the end of the quarter, and go to a trade, I'm 
 old enough now to earn my own living, and I'd rather 
 do it." 
 
 Mr. Stevens continued to pace backwards and 
 forwards, Victor now walking by his side, but 
 without replying for some time. 
 
 " You're young, Victor," he at length said, 
 breathing heavily as he spoke. " Too young to go 
 out alone into the world. I did hope t#> keep you 
 at home a year longer and let you go to school ; 
 but" 
 
 The father's voice failed a little, and he checked 
 his utterance. In a moment he recovered his self- 
 control, and finished what he had meant to say. 
 
 " But the family is so expensive." 
 
 "I'm plenty old enough, father," answered the 
 boy, in a cheerful, confident tone. " You know I'll 
 be fourteen next October ; and it's time I was 
 earning my own living. I've had a good deal of 
 schooling my share, I think. The others must 
 have their part, and if they can all get as much as 
 I've received, they'll do very well. In a little over 
 seven years, I will be free, and can earn money and 
 help you to take care of the other children." 
 
 Mr. Stevens was touched by the generous inde 
 pendence of his boy ; and, after reflecting for some 
 time, said : 
 
 " It shall be as you wish, Victor. But I am 
 afraid you will find the trial of living away from 
 home a far more serious one than you imagine. 
 Boys who go into the city as apprentices have never 
 a very easy time of it."
 
 12 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 "I know all that, father.' But, I must have a 
 trade ; and if some hardship has to be endured in 
 order to get it, I will not complain. Many a boy, 
 much younger than I am, has had to go away from 
 home." 
 
 "What trade would you like to learn?" asked 
 Mr. Stevens. " Have you thought about that ?" 
 
 " Henry Lewis, who left home last winter, is 
 learning to be a printer. I talked to him when he 
 was up in May, and he said he liked^the trade very 
 well. He gets his board, and thirty dollars a year 
 for clothes. Isn't that very good ?" 
 
 "Thirty dollars a year won't buy very nice 
 clothes, particularly when he gets to be eighteen 
 or twenty years old." 
 
 " But he'll be free, you know, at twenty-one, 
 and then he can earn a great deal more. He says 
 that the foreman in the office gets twelve dollars a 
 week, and that most of the journeymen earn from 
 nine to ten dollars." 
 
 " Very fair wages. A prudent young man could 
 lay up money. You think you would like to be a 
 printer ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir. I don't think I could learn anything 
 better. I did think I would be a carpenter, but 
 Edward Jones, who is apprenticed to Mr. Joice, 
 says it is very hard work, and you're exposed a great 
 deal." 
 
 " I would rather have you learn the printing 
 business I have an old friend in Boston, who 
 carries it on ; and if he does not want a boy himself, 
 he can direct you to some good office." 
 
 " You mean Mr. Preston?"
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 13 
 
 "Yes. He's a very correct man, and win do 
 right by you, if you go into his establishment." 
 
 The question of leaving school was settled from 
 that hour. The pressure of circumstances forced 
 from Mr. Stevens a reluctant consent to let his boy 
 go out from under his roof at so tender an age, and 
 seek his fortune alone in a large city. The mother 
 no longer objected. The call for the payment of 
 the mortgage had made both parents feel the stern 
 necessity that existed for a lighter range of expenses, 
 and the only mode of securing this, that presented 
 itself, was that proposed by Victor. 
 
 " It's all settled," said Victor, with animation, 
 when he met Peter Close next morning on his way 
 to school. 
 
 " What's settled ?" asked Peter. 
 
 " That I'm to go to Boston and learn a trade as 
 soon as the quarter is up." 
 
 " And I'm going, too," said Peter. " I asked 
 father last night, and he said I could go. Mother 
 don't like it ; but father's willing, and that settles 
 it all. You're going to be a printer ?" 
 
 " Yes. What trade will you learn ?" 
 
 " The same." 
 
 " Then suppose we go together and try and get 
 into one office. We'll be company for each other." 
 
 " Oh ! I'd like that very much," replied Peter. 
 
 " So would I," returned Victor. " Father knows 
 Mr. Preston, who has a printing office, and he's 
 going to see if he won't take me as an apprentice." 
 
 " I wish he would ask him to take me, too. When 
 do you mean to leave for the city ?" 
 
 " In about a month. Mother will make me some
 
 14 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 new clothes, and get all ready, so that I can start 
 pretty soon after this quarter is up. I feel a little 
 bad about going, when I think of it, now that all is 
 settled. But this don't matter. Other boys have 
 had to leave home, and I must do the same. If I 
 don't learn a trade, I won't be able to support myself, 
 and help father when I get to be a man." 
 
 " Help your father ! what for ?" asked Peter, 
 rather surprised at the last remark, which he did 
 not at all comprehend. " Your father don't want 
 any of your help, does he ?" 
 
 " He has to work very hard, and he will be get 
 ting old by that time." 
 
 " So does my father have to work hard, but he 
 does not want me to help him." 
 
 " No, nor does my father. But he's worked for 
 me, and I'm sure I shall be very glad to work for 
 him when I am able." 
 
 Peter could not comprehend this. Sympathy for 
 his parents had never been awakened in his mind, 
 for the spirit of his home circle was not that of con 
 cord and mutual kindness ; but, rather the opposite. 
 Mr. Close felt the pressure of hard labor and a 
 scanty income, and it fretted his mind, producing 
 moroseness, and often ill temper. His wife did not 
 possess, naturally, a very amiable disposition, and 
 there had been little in the married life to soften 
 and ameliorate her character. Between the chil 
 dren, there was little harmony of feeling ; the 
 younger were exacting, and the older tyrannical. 
 When they were together, instead of mutual kind 
 ness, and good offices, it was a continued scene of 
 discord. In consequence of all this, there was little
 
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 15 
 
 in the home of Peter that drew upon his affections, 
 or created a desire to remain in it as long as possi 
 ble. For his father he had but a small share of 
 affection. Mr. Close was not a man to inspire a very 
 strong filial regard. He entered into no pleasant, 
 familiar intercourse with his children, and rarely 
 spoke to them unless it was in language of reproof. 
 It is not a matter of surprise that Peter felt no 
 sympathy for him. In fact, he knew little about 
 his external circumstances, and cared less, so that 
 he obtained food when he was hungry and clothes 
 to keep him warm. He had two brothers, their 
 names were William and Francis. 
 
 Very different from the family of Mr. Close was 
 that of Mr. Stevens different in almost everything. 
 The parents loved their children with an affection 
 that looked to their future as well as their present 
 good. They were fully aware of the great import 
 ance of an early right training and development of 
 character, and had striven from the first to prevent 
 discord, and produce harmony in their family circle. 
 Victor, the oldest, was early taught to feel an in 
 terest in and to sympathize with his younger bro 
 thers, in all their wants and pleasures ; and they 
 were never permitted to encroach upon his rights. 
 Almost the first lesson given to these children by 
 their parents, was that of mutual respect and re 
 gard ; and they checked instantly even the smallest 
 departure from "its practice. In all their little em 
 ployments they were taught to help one another. 
 An emulation in kind offices was the natural result ; 
 and a beautiful harmony was introduced into tho 
 family circle. This was not so easy a work to do. 
 
 3
 
 16 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 The natural selfishness of the heart early manifests 
 itself among children, in a violation of each other's 
 rights ; and unless parents exercise a most judicious 
 control, they will grow up with certain feelings of 
 dislike which will turn them away from each other 
 when they become men and women. Family con 
 cord is a great achievement ; but will not come 
 unless parents love their children with an unselfish 
 affection, and guard and guide their moral develop 
 ment with even a greater care than is bestowed 
 upon their intellectual training and culture. 
 
 Mr. Stevens had three children. Victor, the 
 oldest, in his fourteenth year ; Hartley in his 
 twelfth, and Thomas in his eighth year. These 
 children would play together for hours, without 
 jarring a discordant string ; while the children 
 of Mr. Close could hardly pass each other without 
 indulging in angry words. If the latter attempted 
 any play, it was generally broken up in less than 
 five minutes, and, usually, because the younger ones 
 rebelled against the oppressive and exacting tyranny 
 of Peter. If he was away, the next oldest took his 
 place as leader and oppressor, and so the everlasting 
 din of strife was kept up day after day and from 
 month to month. Fretted by all this, the parents 
 scolded and punished ; but with no good effect. The 
 evil had taken too deep a root, and was growing 
 with the growth and strengthening with the strength 
 of their offspring. Instead of a bond of union, 
 there was internal repulsion, waiting but the free 
 dom of mature age to drive them asunder in the 
 world, each taking his own way in total disregard 
 of the other.
 
 ' 
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 17 
 
 The opposite of all this, as we have intimated, 
 Distinguished the family of Mr. Stevens. Victor, 
 whose thoughts for nearly a year had been reach 
 ing forward and meditating on the future, never 
 formed a picture of success in his mind in which 
 he made anything more than a part of the family 
 group. The first desire he had, was to assist his 
 father, and the only way he could do this in the 
 present, was to relieve him of the burden of his 
 support ; and his next desire was, to aid, direct, and 
 counsel his younger brothers as they should sever 
 ally leave home and go out into the world as he 
 was about going. lie never thought of himself 
 alone. Conscious of a native energy, and strong 
 in his purpose to do his part on the arena of life, 
 he was not troubled with doubts as to his own ability 
 to get along. He thought, rather, of helping those 
 who had helped him, and of those younger and 
 weaker than himself who might need his hand to 
 support them in the way. 
 
 Beyond himself, on the contrary, no thought of 
 Peter Close wandered. He wished to leave home, 
 because he imagined he would have more freedom 
 and comfort as an apprentice in the city than he 
 now enjoyed. Without any true affection for his 
 brothers and sister, or even for his parents, a se 
 paration from them had in the idea nothing pain 
 ful; but, if the truth must be told, something 
 pleasant. 
 
 Here, then, are two families, and the oldest son 
 of each about leaving home to make his entrance 
 into the world. So for as external things are con 
 cerned, the prospects of these two families, and of 
 
 P'M '
 
 18 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 these two boys, are equal ; but, how unequal, when 
 internal things are considered ! 
 
 The principle of strength in union governed in 
 the one case; while inordinate selfishness produced 
 a feeling of repulsion in the other. 
 
 CHAPTER H. 
 
 "Do not forget, my son," said Mrs. Stevens to 
 Victor, on the eve of his departure for Boston, 
 "your brothers at home. You are the oldest and 
 go out first, and it will be in your power, I trust, 
 to make their paths into the world smoother than 
 if you had not gone before. You have had advan 
 tages which they may not possess. Your father's 
 health may fail, or, he may die before they are as 
 old as you now are, and be compelled to leave home 
 at a tenderer age. Feel then, my son, that to a 
 certain extent, their well-being in life depends on 
 you. Success in the world is not so easy a thing, 
 as you, in the ardor of your young hopes, may 
 imagine. Men do not seek alone to build them 
 selves up : too many, alas ! strive to pull others 
 down that they may rise on the ruins occasioned by 
 their fall. You may, standing alone, secure success 
 for yourself; but the result will be far more certain 
 if you seek a union with your brothers as they come 
 forward in life. You have certain qualities of mind 
 requisite to a prosperous effort in the world, and 
 Hartley has certain other qualities, equally neces-
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 19 
 
 sary. He will be a man soon after you come of age, 
 and if you then unite your interests, mutual good 
 will be the result. Alone, either or both of you 
 might fail in your efforts, but together there will be 
 little danger of this. .By the time your brother 
 Thomas is old enough to take his place in the world, 
 you and Hartley will be able to extend to him a 
 firm hand. In union there is strength, Victor. If 
 you all band yourselves together, each bringing 
 into effect his own peculiar ability, as if you were 
 one man, you will all prosper. To care for your 
 brothers and to seek their good, may keep you back 
 a little ; but when all are grown up, and you stand, 
 side by side with a single purpose, you need not 
 fear the pressure of adverse circumstances." 
 
 These words of his mother imbedded themselves 
 in the mind of Victor. He felt their force and re 
 solved that he would never think so much of his 
 own success as to make him forget that of his 
 brothers. 
 
 Mr. Stevens had already written to his old friend 
 Mark Preston, who was a master printer in Boston, 
 and the latter had agreed to give Victor a trial. 
 If this proved satisfactory to both parties, he was 
 to take the boy as an apprentice ; making him an 
 allowance of a certain sum weekly to pay for his 
 boarding, and thirty dollars a year with which to 
 purchase clothes. If the parents of Victor had 
 been living in Boston, an arrangement like this 
 would have been agreeable enough, but as the boy 
 had not a friend, acquaintance, nor adviser in the 
 city, his new position was to be one of care, respon 
 sibility, and danger. A cheap boarding house, in a 
 
 3b
 
 20 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 place like Boston or New York, is not the safest 
 home for a lad of fourteen or fifteen years of age. 
 This was sensibly felt by Mr. and Mrs. Stevens, 
 but confiding in the principles of their boy, and 
 committing him to the care of the Divine Provi 
 dence they gave him their blessing and let him 
 depart. 
 
 Alone, and without shrinking, that brave-hearted 
 boy started for the great city, with the world be 
 fore him. On arriving he was received kindly by 
 Mr. Preston, who, from the moment he saw him, 
 made up his mind that he would give every satis 
 faction. 
 
 "You think, then, that you would like to be a 
 printer, Victor?" said Mr. Preston, on receiving 
 the lad in his little office, where he sat almost bu 
 ried among books and old papers. 
 
 "Yes, sir," was the firm reply. 
 
 " It's a very good trade : but hard to learn. That 
 is, the boy who learns it has for the first year or 
 two a pretty hard time of it." 
 
 "Other boys have learned the trade," was the 
 simple remark of Victor to this. 
 
 "That's true enough my lad; and so can you. A 
 little hardship in youth is what makes men of us." 
 
 This forewarning on the part of the master prin 
 ter, did not give Victor even the most distant con 
 ception of what he was about to encounter. He 
 did not receive his first lesson until the next morn 
 ing. It was already past noon and Mr. Preston, 
 after taking him to a boarding house, where two of 
 his boys were living, told him that he might look
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 21 
 
 about the city until evening, but, to be sure to be 
 at the office bright and early on the next day. 
 
 Victor did not sleep very soundly that night. 
 Everything was new around him, and, moreover, a 
 little different from what he had anticipated. The 
 printing office, at which he had taken a glance, did 
 not look very attractive, and the people at his board 
 ing house were not particularly after his liking. 
 How different was the woman who governed in this 
 new home from his own mother. There was scarce 
 ly a sign of gentle feeling in a feature of her vul 
 gar face. There were ten boarders in the house, 
 all mechanics, and among them three journeymen 
 and two boys working in Mr. Preston's office. By 
 these, when introduced to them, at the supper table, 
 he was received with a rude familiarity that he felt 
 as exceedingly repulsive. Moreover, the conversa 
 tion which was occasioned by his presence was far 
 from being agreeable. 
 
 " So this is Preston's new devil! " said one of the 
 men, with a laugh ; and all eyes were upon the lad. 
 
 "Rather a green looking devil," said another, 
 in a half undertone, yet loud enough for all to hear. 
 
 "He's just from among the peas and cabbages. 
 But he'll not be green long, I take it," was the 
 shrewd remark of one who had looked closely into 
 the lad's face. 
 
 "He'd better have staid among the peas and 
 cabbages," said a man named Perkins, who was a 
 journeyman printer in the office of Mark Preston. 
 This was spoken with evident ill-nature. 
 
 " Why so ? " asked one of the boarders. 
 
 " Because, there are more at printing now than
 
 22 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 can earn their salt. Every year it's growing worst' 
 and worse. The offices are all filling up with hoys 
 who are pushing out the journeymen. What they 
 are all to do when free, is more than I can tell. 
 Books are a drug in the market. The business has 
 been overdone." 
 
 " That's true in almost every business," replied 
 another to this. " It's true in our business. Every 
 master-workman is crowding in apprentices, who, 
 in a few years, crowd out the journeymen. I feel 
 angry whenever I see a boy come into our shop. 
 I wish it were only here as it is in England, where a 
 handsome fee has to be paid before a boy can be 
 entered for a trade. We would not have so many 
 cabbage-heads poured in upon us from every town 
 and village within sixty miles around to take in a 
 few years the bread out of our mouths." 
 
 " Just my opinion, ' said another, turning his 
 eyes with a scowl upon Victor as he spoke. " If 
 I had my will, I'd pass a law prohibiting any 
 master workman from having more than two ap 
 prentices." 
 
 " So would I," and 
 
 " So would I," ran round the table. 
 
 " It's all very well for you to talk now," said the 
 landlady to this she had three sons all learning 
 trades : " but you sung to a different tune when you 
 were boys." 
 
 " I've no objection to city boys learning trades," 
 was answered to this. " I expect mine to do so. 
 But to have six or seven hundred country clod-hop 
 pers thrusting themselves in, each year, to the ruina
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. . 23 
 
 tion of everything, is more than I can stand and 
 more than I will stand." 
 
 " I rather think you're not going to lie on a bed 
 of roses during your devilship," remarked one 
 who sat near Victor, addressing the lad in a kind 
 voice. 
 
 " He may take my word for that," said Perkins, 
 one of Preston's journeymen, with an angry glance 
 at the lad. 
 
 " He'd better go and hang himself at once," waa 
 the encouraging words of another. 
 
 " He'd better go back to the country and learn 
 to be a farmer," said Perkins. " Then he will have 
 something before him a little better than starvation. 
 Two-thirds of tlie boys now learning trades will not 
 be able to get a hand's turn to bless them, after 
 their times are up." 
 
 " I guess they'll manage to live," remarked one 
 who had not joined in the conversation, and who 
 disapproved of the kind of reception given to the 
 strange boy, as well as the sentiments expressed. 
 " Every new comer makes new wants." 
 
 " yes ; you can talk," was the half-angry and 
 insulting reply of Perkins. 
 
 The man did not choose to enter into a contro 
 versy with such antagonists as were around him, 
 having had some experience on the subject, and 
 therefore remained silent. But he felt sympathy 
 for the lad, and made up his mind to encourage 
 him in his new and trying position when the oppor 
 tunity offered. His name was Franklin. 
 
 After supper, one of the lads apprenticed to Mr. 
 Preston, named Thomas Lee, showed a friendly dis-
 
 I 
 24 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 position towards Victor, and entered into conversa 
 tion with him. 
 
 " Where are you going to-night ?" he inquired. 
 
 "No where," Victor replied. 
 
 " You're not going to sit moping here until bed 
 time ?" 
 
 " I don't know any body in Boston." 
 
 " Have you any money ?" 
 
 " Only a quarter." 
 
 " That'll do. I'm going to the theatre. Won't 
 you come along ?" 
 
 Against the theatre both the father and mother 
 of Victor had particularly cautioned him as the 
 high way to ruin. He therefore replied with great 
 promptness, 
 
 " No, I can't go." 
 
 " Why ?" asked the boy. 
 
 " My father and mother don't wish me to go." 
 
 This was met by a hearty laugh of ridicule, in 
 which two or three others, who had heard what had 
 passed between the two boys, joined. 
 
 " He'll soon get over that," remarked one of the 
 men, who had been at the supper table, shrugging 
 his shoulders. 
 
 "Very right, my boy," said the man named 
 Franklin, speaking to Victor, as soon as the others 
 had retired. " Keep ever in mind the counsel of 
 your father and mother. The theatre is a very 
 bad place for boys, and few lads ever come to much 
 good who habitually go there. Keep your money 
 for a better purpose ; you will have use for it. And 
 you must not mind what all these people say to 
 you. Be honest, industrious and prudent, and you
 
 ..w* 
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 25 
 
 will do well enough. If things are a little hard 
 at first, don't feel discouraged. Others have passed 
 through them before. It will not last forever. 
 
 Victor was more grateful for these timely and 
 encouraging words than he could express. 
 
 The kind of company into which he had fallen, 
 and the manner in which he was received, proved 
 so different from any thing he had imagined, as 
 utterly to confound him. The well-timed words of 
 approval and encouragement spoken by Mr. Frank 
 lin, came just at the right moment and restored the 
 trembling balance of his feelings. At an early 
 hour he retired to bed, and lay awake for a long 
 time, thinking over his first few experiences in city 
 life. He then dropped off to sleep, and did not 
 wake until the sun was shining in at the window of 
 his chamber in the attic.
 
 26 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 REMEMBERING the injunction of Mr. Preston to 
 be at the office hright and early, Victor arose as 
 soon as he awakened, and forthwith repaired to 
 the place where unknown and undreamed of trials 
 awaited him. As he entered the printing office 
 about six o'clock, he was met bj Perkins, the jour 
 neyman before mentioned. 
 
 " Pretty time of day this to come to work !" said 
 that ill-natured personage. " I thought country 
 boys were used to being up with the lark. Take 
 that bucket and go and get some water. 
 
 "Where from?" asked Victor. 
 
 "From the pump. Do you think there are 
 springs bubbling up in the city ?" 
 
 " Where is the pump ?" inquired the boy, lifting 
 the bucket, and standing with a look of inquiry on 
 his face. 
 
 " Round the corner. There now ! Be off with 
 you ! Why do you stand gaping like a sheep ?" 
 
 Victor left the office with the bucket in his hand, 
 and went to the nearest corner ; but saw no pump. 
 He came back, passed the office, and went round 
 the corner next beyond, where he found the object 
 of his search. Filling his bucket he returned as 
 quickly as possible, and was greeted by' Perkins, 
 with
 
 *
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 29 
 
 " Why didn't you stay all day ?" 
 
 " I went round the wrong corner," said Victor. 
 
 "You must be a stupid fellow. But don't stand 
 moping there. Go and sweep out the office. You'll 
 find a brush in the press room." 
 
 Victor didn't know where to find the press room, 
 but he started toward an open door, and was for 
 tunate enough to go right, and to find the brush. 
 Coming back into the room he had first entered, he 
 commenced sweeping ; but had only made a few 
 strokes with the brush when his persecutor cried 
 out, with an oath 
 
 "What do you mean, you young vagabond! 
 Why don't you sprinkle the floor ? Do you want 
 to choke us all to death ?" 
 
 Just at this moment, Mr. Preston entered. He 
 cast upon Perkins a look of rebuke, which produced 
 an instant change in that personage, who cowered 
 away, and went off into the press room. 
 
 " Where is Edward ?" asked Mr. Preston. 
 
 " Up stairs," was answered. 
 
 " Go and call him down." 
 
 Edward was called. 
 
 " I don't want you to give up quite so soon," said 
 Mr. Preston, when the lad appeared. " You can 
 go on as usual for two or three days, 'until Victor 
 begins to understand a little about the place," 
 
 The boy thus addressed filled a basin with water, 
 and commenced sprinkling the floor by dashing it 
 over the side of the basin with his hand. 
 
 " There is another brush in the press room," said 
 Mr. Preston, addressing Victor. " Get it, and help 
 Edward to sweep out the office. After, a day or 
 4
 
 30 THE WAT TO PROSPER. 
 
 two I will want you to do this every morning your 
 self." 
 
 Victor got the other brush and went to work as 
 directed. The press room, composing room, N and 
 office were all swept out, and various other things 
 done, when the hour for breakfast came. After 
 returning from this meal, Victor was sent with a 
 proof to a bookseller. When he came back he was 
 set to work removing sheets from the press ; and 
 after the boards had been emptied, others were put 
 in their places. Plenty was found for him to do 
 until dinner time ; and among other things, he was 
 called upon to " to run the mail," or, in other words, 
 to bring liquor for the journeymen. After dinner 
 he was kept as busy until night fall, when he 
 went home to his boarding house, so tired that 
 he could hardly drag himself along. He was not 
 only tired, but, to a certain extent, disheartened ; 
 for scarcely a kind word had been spoken to him 
 since morning, except by Mr. Preston. The jour 
 neymen ordered him about in a tone of rough and 
 insulting command, and one or two of the boys, 
 seeing in him a good subject, made him a butt of 
 ridicule. All this Victor bore without manifesting 
 resentment. He was rather hurt than angry by the 
 unkindness. 
 
 After supper, Mr. Franklin spoke again en 
 couragingly to him. He also warned him of the 
 many dangers that were in his way, and urged him, 
 as he valued his success and well being as a man, 
 to avoid yielding, even in the smallest degree, when 
 temptations presented themselves. All this strength 
 ened the heart of the lad, and, when he laid his head
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. ol 
 
 upon his pillow, lie was less unhappy than on the 
 night before. A tired body brought a sound repose. 
 Rising with the first beams of the sun he hurried to 
 the office, and had it half swept out before Edward, 
 the boy who had been directed to assist him, ar 
 rived. 
 
 It is not our purpose to picture singly and mi 
 nutely the daily trials, sufferings and hardships 
 through which this boy had to pass before he ac 
 quired a sufficient knowledge of the business to place 
 him out of the reach of oppression and persecution. 
 They were very severe. More so than usually falls 
 to the lot of apprentices, though not greater than 
 were borne by other boys who filled, at that time, 
 the place of " devil" in a printing office. The very 
 name applied to the boy who was required to do all 
 the drudgery, odd turns and errands of the office 
 who was to run at the beck or call of master, jour 
 neyman, or older apprentice seemed to throw him 
 beyond the pale of sympathy. For a whole year, 
 and often, two years, Victor was kept in the office, 
 receiving, daily, more kicks than kind words, and 
 scarcely permitted to enjoy the luxury of an idle 
 moment. It required a boy of stout nerves and 
 good resolution to run the gauntlet. Resistance 
 and retaliation only made matters worse, for the 
 odds of force were entirely against the " devil." 
 This Victor was quick to perceive, and he therefore, 
 schooled himself to endurance from the first. 
 
 It was understood, that, after a three months' 
 trial, Victor should be permitted to go home and 
 see his parents for a couple of days, and that, if 
 all parties were satisfied at this time, he should be
 
 32 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 indentured as an apprentice. When the lad went 
 home at the expiration of this period, it was with 
 feelings of discouragement. Not on account of the 
 hardships of his condition, for he had resolution 
 enough to bear them ; but the journeyman named 
 Perkins had taken every opportunity, knowing, as 
 he did, that Victor was on trial, to fill his mind 
 with the notion that there were already too many 
 at the business. 
 
 " Tell your father," said he, on the eve of Victor's 
 departure for home, " that he'd better put you to a 
 wood-sawyer than to a printer. All the masters 
 are filling their offices with boys, and discharging 
 the journeymen ; and what these are going to do 
 when they are free is more than I can tell. I know 
 twenty journeymen printers, now in the city, who 
 can't get a day's work. Only a week ago, three as 
 good printers as are to be found any where, enlisted 
 to keep from starving. The business is entirely 
 over done." 
 
 All this Victor faithfully reported to his father, 
 and in a tone of discouragement. Mr. Stevens 
 asked many questions about Perkins; as to his 
 character, conduct and habits ; and when Victor had 
 answered these, he was fully prepared to give him 
 correct advice. 
 
 "Pay no regard, whatever, to any thing such 
 men may say to you," was the language of Mr. 
 Stevens. '" The world is advancing much faster 
 than selfish, short-sighted persons like Mr. Perkins 
 imagine. The increasing wants of society will 
 always find employment for its members in tho 
 various pursuits to which they apply themselves.
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 33 
 
 If, in a particular branch of business, there should 
 occur a surplus of labor, those who are most skill 
 ful, and are a.t the same time, sober and industrious, 
 will be those who will find employment ; while the 
 lazy, drunken, or bad workmen, will be driven off 
 to other and less profitable callings. Ever faithfully 
 discharge your duty to your employer, my son, and 
 you need not fear that, so far as you are concerned, 
 any business will be overdone. Be an industrious 
 apprentice, and, at the same time, gain a thorough 
 knowledge of your art, and you need not feel any 
 concern about success in the world when you become 
 a man." 
 
 Victor understood this, young as he was, and 
 felt its force ; and, moreover, it came with double 
 concmsiveness to his mind, because it was the opin 
 ion of his father, in whose judgment he had the 
 utmost confidence. 
 
 As to the hardness of his work and the many un 
 pleasant things connected with his situation, Victor 
 made no complaint. He knew that it would only 
 make his mother unhappy, and tend to discourage 
 his brother Hartley, who would soon have to follow 
 in his footsteps. 
 
 " It won't last forever," was the lad's secret con 
 solation. To his father, however, he confided much 
 in regard to the particular trials and temptations 
 by which he was surrounded ; not in a complaining 
 spirit, but in order to receive his parent's counsel. 
 The advice of Mr. Stevens, coming as it did in en 
 tire accordance with his own first impressions of 
 right, encouraged him very much. Particularly was 
 he strengthened by the warm approval of his father
 
 34 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 when he told him of many instances in which he 
 had refused to do what he thought to be wrong, 
 though strongly urged to step aside by his asso 
 ciates. 
 
 " To see you so firm in doing what is right, my 
 son," said Mr. Stevens, " gives my heart a feeling 
 of pleasure that I cannot describe. I feared, lest, 
 when away from home, amid a thousand tempta 
 tions, the voice of your parents might grow faint 
 in your ears. Thus far it has not been so. Your 
 .obedience has not ceased with bodily separation. 
 Our love for you, and our care over you, is not 
 lessened, but is increased by your absence. We 
 think of you daily, we pray for you daily, that the 
 Father of all good would keep your feet from stray 
 ing. And He will so keep you, if you continue to 
 live in parental obedience, even though separated 
 from the home of your early years." 
 
 When Victor returned to Boston, it was with a 
 firmer heart, and stronger resolutions to do right, 
 and only right, in any and in all circumstances. 
 He was now fourteen, and, in accordance with the 
 original agreement, was regularly bound until he 
 should be twenty-one years of age. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 DURING the visit of Victor, Mr Close, the father 
 of the lad previously mentioned, called upon Mr. 
 Stevens to ask his advice about sending his son into
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 35 
 
 the city, and to inquire if there was an opening in 
 the office where Victor was apprenticed, Peter hav 
 ing declared his wish to become a printer. He 
 complained bitterly of his difficulties, and spoke 
 rather discouragingly of his boy, whom he repre 
 sented as self-willed, headstrong, and easily led 
 away. " I'm afraid I shall have trouble with him," 
 said he, with a sigh. " If he were not so overbear 
 ing and quarrelsome among his younger brothers, 
 I would try to keep him home longer ; but it ia 
 high time that he was under a strict master." 
 
 "There are many temptations in a large city," 
 remarked Mr. Stevens. 
 
 " I know. And the thought of this makes me 
 anxious. But I cannot keep him at home ; and, 
 besides, he must get a trade. He will have to 
 take his chance with the rest. Who is your boy 
 with?" 
 
 " A Mr. Preston." 
 
 " Do you know anything about him ? " 
 
 " He is an old acquaintance, and from what I 
 know of him, believe that he will do all that is 
 right. Victor speaks well of him." 
 
 "Does he?" 
 
 " Yes. He says that he is kind to his boys, but 
 makes them work." 
 
 " That's all right enough." 
 
 " Oh yes ; I've no objection to that." 
 
 " I wonder if I couldn't get Peter with him ? " 
 
 " That is more than I can tell." 
 
 " I would like to very much. Your son is a 
 steady boy, and his influence over Peter would be 
 great."
 
 SC THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 " I will write to Mr. Preston when Victor goes 
 back, and make inquiry on the subject. Even if 
 he should not want a boy he may know of some one 
 who does." 
 
 "You will oblige me very much, indeed," said 
 Mr. Close. " I have not a single acquaintance in 
 Boston, and, therefore, am without facilities for 
 procuring a place for my son." 
 
 Mr. Stevens was as good as his word; but the 
 master of Victor did not, then, wish to take an 
 other apprentice. While at home, Victor and Peter 
 had seen each other every day and talked over the 
 matter. The former felt a good deal interested ir 
 his old school-mate and play-fellow, and was anxious 
 to have him at Mr. Preston's. It was, therefore, 
 with no little disappointment that he wrote home to 
 his father, immediately on his return, that Mr. 
 Preston wished him to say that, for the present, he 
 did not care to take another boy, and did not know 
 of an opening in any printing office. 
 
 " Tell Peter," said Victor, in this letter, "that I 
 will do my best to get him a place somewhere." 
 
 And the boy was successful. It was a month 
 before he was able to get a place for Peter, and 
 in the effort to do so, he visited, as opportunity 
 offered, nearly every printing office in the city. 
 
 When Peter Close came down to Boston, Victor 
 was ready to welcome hinv He had already gained 
 the consent of the printer who was to be his master, 
 to let him board at, the house where he was boarding ; 
 and the landlady had, of course, no objection to 
 their sharing the same bed. 
 
 It was a bright day for Victor when Peter ar-
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 37 
 
 rived. He felt it almost as a gleam of sunshine 
 from home. How much pleasure did he anticipate 
 from their nightly re-unions, after long hours of 
 hard labor. On Sundays blessed seasons of rest 
 for overtasked apprentices ! they could always be 
 together. 
 
 " How do you like your place? " was the first 
 question of Victor, on meeting with Peter at supper 
 time, after the close of the first day. 
 
 Peter looked rather serious, but replied, though 
 in no very cheerful voice 
 
 " Pretty well." 
 
 " It is not like being at home, you know," said 
 Victor, encouragingly. " I havn't found all just 
 as I could wish. But, it won't last forever." 
 
 " Do the men swear at you ? " asked Peter. 
 
 " Yes ; but I try not to mind it." 
 
 " One of them called me a ," repeating some 
 
 vile language. " I was so mad I could have thrown 
 something at his head." 
 
 " That wouldn't have done any good," said Vic 
 tor, " and might have lost you your place." 
 
 " But he's no right to talk to me in that way." 
 
 "Still you can't help it. We are boys, and 
 strangers in the city. If we lose the places we 
 have, we may not be able to get others. Don't 
 mind it, Peter. I put up with a great deal." 
 
 "If he calls me that again, I'll tell Mr. Ludlow," 
 remarked Peter, in whom the spirit of antagonism 
 was pretty strong. 
 
 "No, Peter, don't do that. You'll only get the 
 ill will of the men ; and, if you do, they can make 
 it ten times as hard for you as it would otherwise be."
 
 38 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 " He's no right to speak so to me ? " persisted the 
 lad, indignantly. 
 
 "All true enough," urged Victor, "but hard 
 words are easier to bear than blows." 
 
 "Did any of the men ever strike you ? " inquired 
 Peter. 
 
 "Yes ; a good many times." 
 
 "No man in our office shall lay his hands on me, 
 but Mr. Ludlow," was the boy's indignant remark, 
 on hearing this. " It's bad enough to be scolded 
 and cursed." 
 
 "I know it is, Peter. And the men have no 
 right to strike us. But they will do it sometimes. 
 And then, if we complain, they will tell their own 
 story, and make it appear that we deserved all we 
 got, and a great deal more. It won't last always. 
 In a year or two we will be old enough to remain 
 at case, and then the pressmen won't have any 
 thing to do with us." 
 
 "I'm not going to be struck," persisted Peter. 
 " I'll knock any man down that strikes me." 
 
 In this spirit the boy went to the office on the 
 next morning. As he came in, a journeyman very 
 much resembling Perkins in character, swore at him 
 for a lazy vagabond. 
 
 "I'm i*o more of a vagabond than you are," was 
 Peter's quick reply. The words were scarcely out 
 of his mouth, before he received a blow alongside 
 of his head from the open hand of the journeyman, 
 that knocked him half across the room. Just at 
 this instant Mr. Ludlow, the master printer, came in. 
 
 "What's the meaning of this?" he asked, in a 
 good deal of excitement.
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 39 
 
 "The young scoundrel called me a vagabond," 
 said the journeyman. 
 
 " He did ? Upon my word that's a fair begin- 
 uing. See here, Peter !" Mr. Ludlow spoke sternly. 
 
 The boy approached. 
 
 " How came you to call Mr. Bell a vagabond ? M 
 
 " He swore at me, and called me one first," re 
 plied the lad. 
 
 " It's a lie, you young scoundrel ! " retorted the 
 journeyman promptly. 
 
 "A very nice beginning, I must confess ! " said 
 Mr. Ludlow. "A little too nice for me! I don't 
 want any such boys about my establishment. So, 
 my young chap, you can just take yourself off as 
 quickly as you please. I'll pay your board for one 
 week to give you a chance to get another place. 
 After that you must shift for yourself." 
 
 Peter tried to say something more in his own de 
 fence; but Mr. Ludlow cut the matter short, and 
 told him to go about his business. This was rather 
 a hard case for the boy. So sudden a loss of his 
 situation completely dashed him to the earth. When 
 he met Victor at breakfast time, tears were in his 
 eyes as he related the disastrous termination of his 
 apprenticeship with Mr. Ludlow. His friend con 
 soled him as best he could. 
 
 " I will go and see Mr. Ludlow to night. I know 
 where he lives," said Victor. " Maybe, after think 
 ing about it, he will take you back again. I wish 
 you hadn't said what you did to the journeyman." 
 
 "He'd no business to call me a lazy vagabond-" 
 
 " I know that, Peter. But dont you sec that we 
 can't help ourselves. Better be called a lazy vaga- 
 4
 
 40 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 bond than not get a trade. His saying so don't 
 make it so. Words won't break our bones." 
 
 " I know that. But " 
 
 " It's no use to think of having every thing just 
 as we like it," said Victor, interrupting him, "for 
 it can't be. You must either put up with a great 
 deal, or go back home again. It's folly for you to 
 attempt to fight your way, for you are weak while 
 all around you are strong." 
 
 " Well, it's a shame ! " 
 
 " I know it is, Peter, But we can't help it." 
 
 That evening, Victor went to see Mr. Ludlow, 
 after getting Peter to promise that, if taken back, 
 he would act differently. Since morning, the prin 
 ter had been informed as to the provocation re 
 ceived by Peter, and, in consequence, blamed the 
 lad much less than at first. It did not take any 
 great deal of persuasion to induce him to take 
 Peter back, which he did, after giving him a serious 
 lecture. 
 
 " If you expect to get along in a printing office," 
 said he, " you must make up your mind to bear a 
 good deal for the first year or two. To attempt to 
 fight your way with the men and older boys, will 
 only make things ten times worse for you than they 
 would otherwise be. Do your work quickly and as 
 well as you can, and let that be all you care for. 
 As to quarreling and fighting, that is out of the 
 question ; and if you dont think you can get along 
 without it, you'd better not come back into the 
 office." 
 
 As might have been expected, Peter's belligerant 
 conduct only gained him the ill-will of the journey-
 
 41 
 
 men, who took every opportunity that offered to 
 oppress him. Not having much control over him 
 self, he would, at times, speak out what was in his 
 mind ; and the consequence always was, a hlow, or 
 a threat, that caused him instantly to bridle his 
 tongue. He complained a great deal to Victor 
 Stevens, whose situation was little better than his 
 own, only not rendered well nigh intolerable by in 
 effectual resistance and murmurs. 
 
 Peter Close had only been in Boston three or 
 four days, when he proposed to Victor to visit the 
 theatre. 
 
 " I have no money to spend in that way ; and, if 
 I had, I would not think it right to go," replied 
 young Stevens. 
 
 " It won't cost any thing," asked Peter. 
 
 " Why not ? " inquired Victor. 
 
 " One of the boys at our office told me all about 
 it. You go in with checks." 
 
 " How do you get the checks ? " 
 
 " Why, you see, after a part of the play is over, 
 if any one wants to come out for a little while, the 
 door keeper hands him a check. A great many 
 who come out in this way don't care about returning, 
 and give their checks to the boys, who can get in 
 with them and see the rest of the play." 
 
 " I wouldn't be a beggar of checks, even if I 
 thought it right to go to the theatre," said Victor, 
 with an independent air. 
 
 " What harm is there in going ? " asked Peter. 
 
 " My father said, when I left home, that he wa3 
 particular in not wishing me to go to the theatre, 
 as it was a place where boys were most likely to be 
 5
 
 42 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 led into evil ways. I promised him that I would 
 not do so ; and I will not. For me it would be 
 very wrong." 
 
 " Well, my father didn't say any thing to me 
 about it, and I'm going." 
 
 " I wouldn't, if I were you, Peter." 
 
 " Why wouldn't you ? " 
 
 " It's a bad place. Besides^ I'd be more inde 
 pendent than to beg checks." 
 
 " Other boys do it ; and I don't see that I'm so 
 much better than they are." 
 
 " I can tell you what it is, Peter ; I feel myself 
 a great deal better than boys who have no more 
 respect for themselves than to turn beggars," re 
 plied Victor, tossing his head with an independent 
 air. 
 
 " Though, for all that, you let the men in your 
 office curse you and beat you about as if you were 
 no better than a dog." 
 
 " I can't help myself so far as that goes ; but I 
 can, help begging checks at a theatre door. I'd put 
 my hand in the fire before I'd do it." 
 
 " Well, I don't care what you think," returned 
 Peter, " I'm going to the theatre. I've always 
 wanted to see a play." 
 
 It was in vain that Victor reasoned with and 
 persuaded the boy. He was bent on visiting the 
 theatre, and he carried out his purpose. To Victor 
 he described what he had seen in the most glowing 
 language, and urged him to go with him on the next 
 night. But the lad was immovable. 
 
 On the first Sunday after Peter came to the city, 
 Victor asked him to go to church with him : but
 
 THE WAY TO PROSIER. 43 
 
 Peter said, no he didn't like to go to church. His 
 father hardly ever went. 
 
 " But didn't he say that you must go to church ?" 
 asked Victor. 
 
 " He said that he'd like me to attend some 
 church, but didn't say I must go." 
 
 " He would rather have you do so, Peter; and now 
 that you are away from him, you ought to do what 
 you think would please him even more strictly, if 
 there is any difference, than if he were present." 
 
 But Peter saw no force in this argument. Pa 
 rental restraint had always been irksome to him, 
 and he had no disposition voluntarily to assume the 
 yoke of obedience. He was now free to do what he 
 pleased, and go where he pleased on Sundays, and 
 he was fully disposed to make good use of the privi 
 lege. 
 
 Victor Stevens acted altogether differently. He 
 observed the Sabbath as a day of worship and reli 
 gious instruction. Sunday schools had but recently 
 been established. Mr. Franklin, who boarded in 
 the house with him, was a teacher, and Victor, 
 through his recommendation, attached himself to 
 one of them, and attended regularly, every morning 
 and afternoon. He also went regularly to church. 
 
 Thus differently did these two lads choose their 
 ways in entering upon life ; and it was not long 
 before their paths made considerable divergence. 
 Peter was soon so entirely fascinated with the 
 theatre and the low company he met there, that he 
 might be found nightly at the doors seeking for an 
 opportunity to obtain entrance in the way just 
 mentioned. On Sundays, he went off to stroll in 
 4*
 
 44 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 the woods and fields, or to sail in the harbor. As 
 for attending church, that was a thing never done. 
 Victor frequently remonstrated with Peter, but to 
 no purpose ; and the latter even so far forgot his 
 good feelings and sense of propriety, as at times, to 
 join some others in ridiculing his old school com 
 panion and friend as a " saint." 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Two years of hard trials, endurance and suffering 
 were passed by Victor, when his age, and the skill 
 he had acquired in type-setting, removed him from 
 a position in which but little sympathy or considera 
 tion had ever been extended towards him. During 
 all that long period he had been careful to com 
 plain but little to his parents. That, he reflected, 
 could do no good, and would only make them 
 unhappy. Steadily he adhered to his first resolu 
 tion of strict obedience to their wishes ; and in all 
 cases, where his mind was in doubt, he wrote home 
 to his father, or consulted him at the time of his 
 semi-annual visit to the home of his childhood. At 
 Sunday school, he was a regular and attentive 
 scholar, and not a single Sabbath during the two 
 years had he been absent from church. This atten 
 dance at Sabbath school brought him into associa 
 tion with boys of a very different class from those 
 whom Peter found hanging around the doors of the 
 theatre, or hunting bird'-s nests and strolling in the
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 45 
 
 
 
 elds on Sunday. With one of his Sabbath school 
 friends, the son of a widow, Victor became particu 
 larly intimate ; and as the mother of the boy liked 
 Victor, and felt for his lonely situation, separated, 
 as he was from his frieuds, and in a strange city, 
 she invited him to come home with her son every 
 Sunday evening, after school, and take tea with the 
 family. Most highly did the boy esteem this privi 
 lege. The widow's name was Redmond. She had 
 two children William and Anna. William was 
 nearly the same age as Victor, and Anna was some 
 two years younger. 
 
 The thought of meeting with this kind family 
 every Sunday evening, made the boy's toil lighter 
 through the week. Mrs. Redmond was a pioua 
 woman, and early taught her children a reverence 
 for God, and a strict obedience to his command 
 ments. On Sunday evenings she read the Bible 
 and talked to them on subjects connected with re 
 ligion and their duties in life. In doing this, she 
 was careful not to weary their young minds ; and 
 but rarely did she do so. What she said, uttered 
 as it was in appropriate words, and at the right 
 time, generally made its due impression. It was 
 the genuineness of her affection that gave. life to 
 her precepts. It is not speaking too strongly to 
 say that Victor loved Mrs. Redmond. To him, she 
 was only second to his own mother, and she felt for 
 him soon after he began to visit in her family, 
 something of a mother's regard, and manifested it 
 in a care for him such as a mother's feelings \vould 
 be quickest to prompt. The sum which Victor re 
 ceived for the purchase of clothes, was not sufficient
 
 46 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 to procure any but the plainest, and what he had, 
 often became unfit to wear for want of proper mend 
 ing, long before they would, otherwise, have been 
 thrown aside. Mrs. Redmond soon observed this, 
 and thinking how glad she would be if some kind 
 person would take the same care of her own boy, if 
 he were away, determined, as a matter of feeling as 
 well as duty, to assume the care of looking after 
 the boy's clothing. She had them given to her own 
 washerwoman, who charged Victor no more than he 
 had been paying, and when they came home, she 
 looked over and mended them herself or let Anna 
 do it. Every Saturday night Victor came for his 
 bundle of clean clothes, and on Monday mornings, 
 as he passed to the office, left those he had thrown 
 off for the wash. His work was the dirtiest work 
 in the office, and it was impossible to keep from 
 getting all his garments badly soiled ; but the 
 thought that they would all go to Mrs. Redmond's 
 made him doubly careful after she kindly took 
 charge of them, and the effect was his greatly im 
 proved appearance, which was noticed by his master 
 and all in the office, and created for him a feeling 
 of respect that saved him from many acts of oppres 
 sion. 
 
 Mrs. Redmond also took charge of the purchasing 
 of his clothes, and, by this means, made the slender 
 income of Victor go a great deal farther than other 
 wise would have been the case. Occasionally, she 
 would add a trifle from her own purse in buying a 
 garment, so as to improve the quality. But of this 
 kind act the boy remained ignorant, although in the 
 enjoyment of the good which flowed from it.
 
 
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 47 
 
 For Peter Close, there was no one to care after 
 this generous manner. He selected different com 
 panions, and walked in a different way. Such a 
 thing as true kindness and sympathy never visited 
 nor cheered him. His associates, like himself, 
 sought only their individual pleasure, and cared for 
 each other only so far as the companionship enabled 
 them to attain the ends they had in view. The dif 
 ference in the personal appearance of the two boya 
 was very marked. While Victor, particularly on 
 Sundays, looked neat and tidy, Peter's clothes were 
 worn in a slovenly mannerjfcand he hardly ever had 
 a decent garment to put en. When Sunday nights 
 came, he usually returned from his rambles tired 
 and dissatisfied ; and was often moping in his board 
 ing house, while Victor was sharing the pleasant 
 home of his Sunday school friend, William Eed- 
 mond. 
 
 Two years, as we have intimated, had passed 
 away, and Victor was about being relieved entirely 
 from the general duties of the office, to which, aa 
 one of the younger boys, he had, from the first been 
 devoted. At this time the visit of a week at home 
 was permitted. 
 
 " Are you going to take another apprentice ?" he 
 asked of Mr. Preston, respectfully, on the day he 
 was about starting for the country. 
 
 " Yes ; I must have some one in your place now 
 that you are to go into the composing room," said 
 Mr. Preston. u Do you know a good boy ?" 
 
 " My brother Hartley would like to learn the 
 business." 
 
 " Ah, would he ? How old is Hartley ?"
 
 48 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 " He's just fourteen." 
 
 " He's a good boy, I suppose." 
 
 " Yes, sir ; I know he is." There was an air of 
 pride and pleasure in the voice of Victor as he made 
 this reply. 
 
 " Is your father willing that two of his sons should 
 become printers ?" 
 
 " If Hartley likes the business, he would think it 
 best for us to have the same trade, for then we 
 could work together and help each other." 
 
 " The youngest boy in a printing office has a hard 
 time of it, as you well know ; you would not like to 
 see your brother treated as you have been by the 
 men and boys." 
 
 Victor looked earnestly into Mr. Preston's face 
 for some moments, before replying. Then he 
 said 
 
 " I could show him and help him a great deal 
 without neglecting my work, and so make ^lt easier 
 for him. And I know that some of the men would 
 be kinder to him for my sake, than they would be 
 to a boy who had no one in the office to take his 
 part." 
 
 " But might not your interference for Hartley 
 get you into difficulties with the men and older 
 boys ?" 
 
 "I am not quarrelsome," said Victor again 
 looking up steadily into his master's face. 
 
 " No, Victor, I will give you credit for being a 
 peaceable, good disposed boy," returned Mr. Preston, 
 in a voice of approval. " And I am so well pleased 
 with you, tell your father, that I would like to hare 
 another of his boys if he has one to spare."
 
 THE WAT TO PROSPER. 49 
 
 A light flashed over the face of Victor as Mr. 
 Preston said this, and, in spite of his manly effort 
 to control his feelings, the tears came into his eyes. 
 Not trusting himself to speak, he bowed with a 
 grateful heart, and retired from the presence rf his 
 master. 
 
 Mr. Stevens' affairs had not improved a great 
 deal, although relieved of the burden of Victor's 
 support. The mortgage had only been reduced 
 fifty dollars although it was out of the hands of 
 the man who first held it, and was in the possession 
 of another person, who was satisfied to let it re 
 main so long as the interest was jegularly paid. 
 Still it was felt as a burden, and the wish to have it 
 removed was ever uppermost in the mind of Mr. 
 Stevens. As the younger members of his family 
 came forward, the expense of their maintenance 
 increased, and the necessity for Hartley's leaving 
 home became every day more apparent. Victor 
 understood this previous to his visit home, and was, 
 also, aware of the views of the family on the sub 
 ject. Hence his application to his master. When 
 he communicated to his father what Mr. Preston 
 had said about wishing to have another one of his 
 boys, he was so well satisfied with the first, Mr. 
 Stevens' pleasure was very great. 
 
 "If Hartley is willing, he shall go back with 
 you," said he, without hesitation. 
 '% Peter Close knew nothing of Victor's intention 
 to get his brother Hartley into the office with him 
 self until the two boys came down from the coun 
 try. Peter no longer boarded in the same houso 
 
 with Victor, having left it to go into a family where 
 

 
 50 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 two or three of his most intimate associates were 
 living. On meeting Victor, after learning that 
 Hartley had come to Boston, he said to him, with 
 manifest surprise 
 
 " And is your brother really going to be a 
 printer ?" 
 
 "Certanly he is," replied Victor. 
 
 "And he's in Preston's office ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 Peter shook his head with a disapproving air. 
 
 " What is your objection ?" inquired Victor. 
 
 "In the first place," said Peter, " there never 
 should be two of a trade in one family ; and, in the 
 second place, two brothers will never agree as ap 
 prentices in the same shop or office." 
 
 " I think very differently from that. If two or 
 even three brothers learn the same trade, the old 
 est can help the younger ones, and all can unite 
 together when they are free and make their success 
 in the world more certain. As to not agreeing as 
 apprentices, it seems to me that they are the very 
 ones to agree best. I'm sure Hartley and I will 
 agree well enough." 
 
 " And I'm very sure that my brother Bill and I 
 would not agree for a week. We never did at 
 home for an hour. Father wants Bill to be a 
 printer, and wrote to me to ask Mr. Ludlow to 
 take him. We wanted a boy just then in the office, 
 but I knew Bill wouldn't suit ; and, besides, I didn't 
 want him there. So I waited until the place 
 was filled and then wrote home to father that Mr. 
 Ludlow had as many boys as he wanted, and 
 - wouldn't probably take another for a year. And,
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 51 
 
 besides, I said all I could to discourage him in re 
 gard to our trade. The fact is, there are too many 
 at it now. There are scores of journeymen walk 
 ing about the streets with nothing to do; and how 
 will it be when the swarm of apprentice boys, at 
 present filling all the offices, are free ?" 
 
 Victor was so surprised at this declaration, that 
 he hardly knew what to reply. William Close was 
 rather gentle and shrinking in his character, and 
 needed the care, protection, and kindness of one 
 older and stronger than himself. The heartless in 
 difference of Peter really shocked him. 
 
 " I think you did very wrong," said he. " If 
 you will not help and protect your brother, who is 
 to do it ? In Mr. Ludlow's office, it would have 
 been in your power to lighten many a burden laid 
 upon his shoulders ; and you know, as well as I do, 
 that, let him go where he will, they will be heavy 
 a.nd hard to be borne. William is not a bold, strong 
 boy, able to make his way in the world as easily as 
 you and I." 
 
 "I can't help it," replied Peter, impatiently. 
 "I've got to make my way and he'll have to make 
 his. I don't want him and am not going to have 
 him at our office. That's settled. It will be a great 
 deal better for us to have separate places. It's as 
 much as I can do to take care of myself, without 
 being troubled with him." 
 
 " How can you feel so unkindly towards your 
 brother?" said Victor. 
 
 " 1 don't feel unkindly towards him. But I know 
 it will be a great deal better for us to go along 
 separate roads. We never did and never will agree 
 5
 
 52 THE WAT TO PROSPER. 
 
 together ; and there is no use in jarring and quar 
 reling. I'll do all I can for him, if he ever needs 
 my assistance ; but it wouldn't be best to put us 
 too close together. I know that well enough." 
 
 " Does William want to learn our trade ?" 
 
 "So he said, when I was up last. But that was 
 only because I'm at the business. He doesn't know 
 what he would like. I said all I could to discourage 
 him ; but when he once gets his head set on any 
 thing, there's no turning him away from it. I want 
 him to be a carpenter. That's a good trade ; he 
 can learn it with Mr. Joice, and board at home all 
 through his apprenticeship, which would be a great 
 thing. Boston isn't the best place in the world for 
 a boy, and I'm afraid to have Bill come here. He 
 will be a great deal safer where he is." 
 
 Victor saw that argument with Peter would be of 
 no use. and so he did not urge anything further on 
 the subject. He felt sorry for William Close, who 
 was not at all fitted for the rough usage he was 
 fikely to meet in the world. 
 
 " If his own brother don't care for him," said he 
 to himself, as he parted from Peter, " who is to do 
 BO?"


 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 55 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE circumstances of Mr. Close, instead of im 
 proving, grew more and more straitened every day ; 
 and earlier than he wished to send his second boy, 
 William, out into the world, he was compelled to 
 take him from school, and look after a place for 
 him as an apprentice to some trade. He wished, 
 particularly, to have him in the same office with 
 Peter William having expressed a desire to become 
 a printer for then the boy would have some one 
 to look after and protect him. But he saw that 
 Peter was opposed to this the moment it was 
 mentioned ; and when the answer to his letter, de 
 siring him to speak to Mr. Ludlow, came, a sus 
 picion crossed his mind that the boy had not acted 
 fairly. 
 
 " I will go to Boston and see about it myself," 
 said he, after thinking over the matter. And he 
 did so immediately. On arriving in the city, he 
 called, first, at the office of Mr. Ludlow. On intro 
 ducing himself, he inquired if the printer did not 
 want another boy. 
 
 "Not just now," replied Mr. Ludlow. "It is 
 only a couple -of weeks since I took one." 
 
 " Did Peter say any thing to you about his 
 brother ?" asked Mr. Close. 
 6
 
 56 THE WAY TO PROSPEK. 
 
 " Not a word. I've been looking out for a boy 
 that would suit me for several weeks." 
 
 " Did my son know this ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes." 
 
 Mr. Close asked no more questions. He was 
 hurt as well as angry at his boy's conduct. 
 
 " Do you wish to see Peter ?" inquired Mr. Lud- 
 low. "I will call him down." 
 
 "No, not just now," replied Mr. Close. "I can 
 drop in again during the morning." He spoke 
 with an abstracted air. " Do you know of any one 
 who wants a boy?" 
 
 Mr. Ludlow reflected for some moments. 
 
 "Yes," he then answered. "There is a very 
 clever man, named Edgerton, a watch-maker, who 
 asked me, yesterday, if I knew of any one who had 
 a good boy that would like to learn a trade." 
 
 "A watch-maker," said Mr, Close. "Is that a 
 good trade ?" 
 
 " I believe so. There are not so many at it as 
 there are at the printing ; and all seem to be doing 
 Very well." 
 
 " You know the man ?" 
 
 " Mr. Edgerton ? Oh yes. Very well." 
 
 "And you think it would be a good place for a 
 boy?" 
 
 "I do." 
 
 "Would you have any objection to giving me a 
 little note to Mr. Edgerton?" 
 
 "None in the least." And the printer did as 
 requested. Mr. Close took the note and went away 
 without seeing his son. The whole day passed,
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 57 
 
 and he did not return. On the next morning Mr. 
 Ludlow said to Peter. 
 
 " Have you seen your father?" 
 
 "No, sir. Where is he?" The boy looked 
 startled. 
 
 " Not seen him !" Mr. Ludlow evinced surprise. 
 
 "No, sir. When was he here?" inquired Peter. 
 
 "Yesterday. Didn't you know that he was 
 desirous of getting a place in a printing office for 
 your brother ?" 
 
 Peter was stammering out a negative, when he 
 caught himself, on reflection, and admitted that he 
 was aware of the fact. 
 
 "You have known, for several weeks, that it was 
 my intention to take another boy." 
 
 This Peter was forced to acknowledge. 
 
 " Then why didn't you mention your brother." 
 
 " Because I was sure he wouldn't suit you," re 
 plied Peter. 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " He isn't a very strong boy. I don't believe 
 he could stand a printing office." 
 
 " But your father thinks differently. He wished 
 him to learn the trade." 
 
 Peter hung his head with a confused, guilty look. 
 
 " And, so your father has not been to see you ?" 
 said Mr. Ludlow. 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 " You must have acted very disobediently to cause 
 him thus to avoid you." 
 
 Peter did not answer. A few moments of silence 
 followed ; and then Mr. Ludlow told him that he 
 could go to his work. Peter went back into the 
 5*
 
 - .< ' * * 
 
 *' . * 11 -.*. ^n 
 
 58 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 printing office, feeling about as badly as ever lie had 
 felt in his life. 
 
 In the meantime, Mr. Close had called to see the 
 watchmaker, who kept a little shop in Hanover 
 street. The note from Mr. Ludlow who said that 
 he had one of the farmer's boys, was all-sufficient 
 to make the application favorably received. In an 
 hour after entering Mr. Edgerton's shop, Mr. Close 
 started from the city, on his way home, it being 
 all arranged that he should return in a week with 
 William, provided the lad did not object too strong 
 ly to the trade of a watchmaker. He felt too in 
 dignant towards Peter, and too much disheartened 
 by his strange conduct, to wish to see him while in 
 the city. On the boy's last visit home, he had ob 
 served a great difference in him. He had grown 
 coarse and sensual in his appearance, instead of 
 being refined by a city residence. And, moreover, 
 did not appear to care for any one but himself ; nor 
 did he take any interest in what was passing at 
 home. His mother's health had failed a good deal ; 
 but Peter observed no change. She was sick for a 
 day or two, but he manifested no sympathy. Ere 
 he had been in the house twenty-four hours, he 
 quarreled with William ; and his conduct towards 
 both his brothers was so overbearing, that they felt 
 it as a relief when he went back to the city. 
 
 All this was remembered by Mr. Close, and it so 
 disturbed him, and aroused, as we have said, such in 
 dignant feelings in his mind, that he purposely re 
 frained from going near Peter, as well to rebuke 
 him, as to avoid an interview that could only have 
 been an unpleasant one.
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 59 
 
 The disappointment to William Close was very 
 great, and, moreover, the lad was hurt at his brother's 
 conduct when he fully understood the part he had 
 acted not only hurt, hut estranged in his feelings. 
 The act was so personal to himself, that his love of 
 self was wounded, and the more he thought of it, 
 the more angry and indignant did he become. 
 Under the influence of this feeling, he decided to 
 accept the place offered him, and learn the trade of 
 a watchmaker. In a week after the return of Mr. 
 Close from the city, he went back with William and 
 placed him in the shop of Mr. Edgerton. 
 
 Had Mr. Close been governed by his feelings, he 
 would have returned home without seeing Peter. 
 But his reason condemned this as wrong, and so, 
 after he had seen Mr. Edgerton and left William 
 in his care, he called at the office of Mr. Ludlow. 
 Peter, on seeing his father, had so strong a sense of 
 guilt and self-condemnation, that he could not look 
 him in the face. He was prepared, however, for a 
 severe lecture. In the reception of this, he was 
 disappointed; for Mr. Close did not once refer to 
 his conduct, nor utter a word of reproof. But, he 
 had very little to say, and his coldness and reserve, 
 as well as the gravity of his manner, told the boy 
 but too well what was in his mind. 
 
 " Your brother William," said he to him, " I have 
 apprenticed to Mr. Edgerton, the watchmaker. I 
 don't know that it is worth while to ask you to have 
 any care over him. I suppose he can make his own 
 way as you have made yours." 
 
 Peter hung his head in silence.
 
 60 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 " I shall leave town in an hour," added Mr. Close. 
 " So good bye," and he extended his hand. 
 
 The boy took it, but there was no reciprocal 
 pressure no warmth in either hand. Mutually 
 they turned from each other the father with a sigh 
 that in no way lightened the pressure of his feelings ; 
 the son with a sense of relief. 
 
 When evening came, Peter called to see William. 
 Their meeting was not cordial ; for on one side was 
 the sense of having, and on the other side that of 
 being, wronged ; though no reference was made to 
 the subject. Thus the two .brothers went out into 
 the world, without feelings of sympathy in each 
 other's welfare ; but, rather tending to estrange 
 ment. The want of interest manifested by Peter, 
 took from him the power to influence William for 
 good, even if he had felt a real concern for him. 
 From the beginning, therefore, their ways diverged 
 instead of running in a parallel. On the first Sab 
 bath after William's arrival, Peter started, early, 
 for a ramble with three or four companions, scarcely 
 thinking of his brother, who, suffering from the first 
 sad homesickness, wandered about the streets of a 
 strange city without seeing an object, the sight of 
 which affected him with pleasure ; and when even 
 ing came, lonelier and still sadder in heart, he went 
 early to bed, thinking only of the home from which 
 he had gone out, and to which he was never more 
 to return, except as a brief visitor, and there wept 
 himself to sleep. 
 
 How different was it with Victor and Hartley 
 Stevens, on the first Sabbath after the arrival of 
 the latter in Boston ! With what a feeling of pride
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 61 
 
 and pleasure did the former take his brother with 
 him and introduce him into the Sunday School, and 
 how high a favor did he esteem it, when the Super 
 intendent, at his earnest request, gave Hartley a 
 seat in the class to which he belonged ! And yet, 
 in connexion with Hartley's coming to Boston, 
 Victor was to experience a severe trial, and it had 
 been foreshadowing itself in his mind from the first. 
 This had reference to his own intimacy in the 
 family of Mrs. Redmond. The introduction of Hart 
 ley to this family might not be pleasant ; and, even 
 if they were to receive him kindly, Victor felt that 
 it would be trespassing on good nature to go there 
 with his brother, regularly, every Sabbath evening. 
 But, as to separating himself from Hartley, who 
 would be thus left alone, that, to Victor, was out of 
 the question. He was ready to meet the great pri 
 vation for the sake of his brother. 
 
 After the dismissal of the school, at the close 
 of the first Sabbath, William and Anna Redmond 
 and Victor and Hartley Stevens walked along talk 
 ing pleasantly together, for three or four blocks. 
 At length Victor and his brother paused at a point 
 where the ways to the two homes diverged. 
 
 " What's the matter ?" asked William, in surprise. 
 
 "We're going home," said Victor. 
 
 "Home!" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "No. You're going home with us," returned 
 William. 
 
 " Oh yes. You must come ; you and your brother 
 too," said Anna, looking with a smile of invitation 
 at Hartley.
 
 62 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 "No, I thank you, not this evening," replied 
 Victor. " We must go home." 
 
 It was in vain that William and Anna urged. 
 Victor was firm in his resolution. When they at 
 length separated, the brother and sister looked 
 greatly disappointed. , 
 
 " Why didn't you come with William and Anna ?" 
 asked Mrs. Redmond of Victor on the next morning, 
 when the boy called with his bundle of clothes, as 
 usual, for the wash. 
 
 " I couldn't leave Hartley alone," was the reply. 
 
 *' Of course not. But you might have brought 
 your brother along. You must bring him on next 
 Sunday afternoon." 
 
 " I don't know that it would be right," said Vic 
 tor, showing some embarrassment of manner. 
 
 " Why not ?" asked Mrs. Redmond. 
 
 " Because you have been a mother, and your 
 house another home to me," replied Victor, his voice 
 slightly trembling, and his eyes growing dim with 
 moisture ; " that is no reason why you should care 
 for my brother in the same way." 
 
 The good sense, manliness and right feeling dis 
 played in this answer, filled the mind of Mrs. Red 
 mond with admiration for Victor. 
 
 " We will find a place for your brother," was the 
 smiling reply. " He must be a good boy, or you 
 would not feel for him the strong regard you mani 
 fest. Bring him home with you on next Sunday 
 evening. I want to see him." 
 
 The invitation Victor did not feel it right to de 
 cline. And so, on the next Sunday evening, Hartley
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 63 
 
 was introduced to Mrs. Redmond, who felt a prepos 
 session in his favor as soon as she saw him. 
 
 "You must come as usual," said she to Victor, 
 when he was going away that evening. 
 
 But Victor did not feel free to do this. It did 
 not seem to him as altogether right. During the 
 week, he debated the subject in his mind, viewing 
 it on every side. When the next Sunday arrived, 
 he had come to this conclusion ; to go to Mrs. Red 
 mond's, with Hartley, every other Sunday evening 
 after school ; thus making a kind of compromise. 
 And to this he adkered for some time, though not 
 without a certain sense of embarrassment. As for 
 Hartley he was not long in winning his way into 
 the kind feelings of Mrs. Redmond. The quiet 
 unobtrusiveness and sincerity of his character, soon 
 made its due impression ; and only a few months 
 elapsed before she felt as much interest in him as 
 she had ever felt in Victor, and before the boy 
 loved her only less than his own mother. 
 
 CHAPTER VH. 
 
 As Victor Stevens had rightly inferred, he was 
 able to assist and protect his brother in many ways 
 during his trying initiation into the first mysteries 
 of the " black art," and thus lighten the burdens 
 which he, with all his endurance, had found, some 
 times, almost intolerable. And in doing this, he 
 was careful not to neglect his own work, nor to
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPEK. 
 
 offend any in the office by an injudicious interference 
 in behalf of Hartley. This regard for his younger 
 brother did not, of course, escape the notice of the 
 master, journeymen, and older apprentices, and an 
 involuntary respect for the lads was the conse 
 quence ; a respect that saved them often from op 
 pression. Thus, in the beginning, they experienced 
 the benefits of concord, and proved the truth of that 
 saying, so apparent to all " In union there is 
 strength." In pulling together, the draught was 
 made easier. In mutual regard, the burdens they 
 had to bear were found to be lighter than if each 
 had attempted to work alone in selfish regard to his 
 own ends and pleasures. 
 
 It was different, of course, with the two brothers, 
 Peter and William Close. For the former, no re- 
 epect was felt in the office where he worked, for 
 there was nothing about him that inspired respect ; 
 and he was constantly suffering some kind of annoy 
 ance, arising from a reaction occasioned by his own 
 hard points of character. As for William, the poor 
 lad had a hard time of it. The separation from 
 home proved a most painful trial ; the more so, as, 
 in the family of the watchmaker, where he lived, he 
 found neither sympathy nor companionship. There 
 was one other apprentice, a boy of nineteen years 
 old, who, from the beginning, showed an evil plea 
 sure in oppressing and annoying the friendless lad ; 
 and, as William's feelings were naturally acute, he 
 suffered from this cause severely. For the first 
 year he was made a family drudge. He cut the 
 wood, made the fire, brought the water, cleaned 
 knives, carried the market basket, nursed the baby,
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 65 
 
 and, sometimes, was even set to washing windows 
 and scrubbing floors. If he complained to Peter of 
 any thing, he received no sympathy ; and no advice, 
 except when he told him of what the older boy did 
 to him, and then he was instigated to antagonism. 
 
 " Knock him down with the first thing that comes 
 in your way," was the counsel of the elder brother. 
 But this counsel William had not the courage to 
 follow. With nothing at home to attract him there ; 
 and no good influences to inseminate and develop 
 right principles as a protection in the world, Wil 
 liam, after a few weeks residence in the city, began 
 to look around him for some one or more with whom 
 he could have fellowship. Companions were not 
 hard to find. A friendship with two or three boys 
 in the immediate neighborhood was soon formed, 
 and it so happened that they were able to induct 
 him into all the little vices peculiar to a city life. 
 William was not a very apt scholar at first. He 
 came from the country an innocent-minded lad, and 
 only needed to have his feet turned into right paths. 
 He would ha^ve walked in them willingly. But there 
 was no one to point the way ; no one to take him 
 by the hand and lead him in the right direction. 
 Had Peter, as the oldest, been a different boy, life 
 would have opened for him with a better promise. 
 His first associates determined his future. They 
 were about as bad as they could well be. He not 
 only learned from them to break the Sabbath, and 
 lounge about the theatre at night, but to frequent 
 tippling shops where the vilest people congregate. 
 In order to get money, old nails and scraps of iron 
 were gathered, and, when opportunity offered, the 
 
 6
 
 66 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 temptation to purloin little things was not resisted. 
 This was a dreadful school for a lad to enter. All 
 that was good and innocent in the rnind of William 
 Close, shrunk from the first contact with this ; but 
 little by little the weak foundations of right princi 
 ples were destroyed, and, before he had been six 
 months in Boston, his willing feet were moving 
 swiftly in the way to destruction. 
 
 Two years after William had been sent to Boston, 
 Mr. Close received a letter from his master to 
 the effect, that his son's habits had become so bad 
 as seriously to incline him to make an application 
 for the cancelling of his indentures. " He runs," 
 said the letter, "with the fire engines, and associates 
 with fire rowdies, and the very worst class of boys in 
 the city. Often he stays out all night. He visits 
 tippling shops and the theatre, and what is strangest 
 of all, never seems to be without money to spend. 
 Where he gets it from is more than I can tell. 
 Talking to him does no good. Punishment avails 
 as little. I have tried both. In the family, he is 
 either sulky or impudent ; and is never satisfied with 
 any thing. Unless there is a speedy change for 
 the better, I must give him up as incorrigible. I 
 am sorry to write this ; but justice to all concerned 
 makes it imperative." 
 
 The mother of William had not been in good 
 health for some years. Disease had fastened upon 
 her lungs, and under its encroachment, she was 
 gradually but surely wasting away. Daily some 
 portion of her strength departed ; her pulse became 
 feebler ; her step slower ; and her face whiter and 
 sadder. Since her two oldest boys had left home,
 
 THE WAT TO PROSPER. C7 
 
 her heart had been weighed down by a new feelir.g 
 of trouble, for she had little rational confidence in 
 them. If they loved her, they had never manifested, 
 strongly, their affection. Her counsels, when op 
 posed to their passions and inclinations, never had 
 much apparent weight. Neither love nor precept, 
 therefore, went with them to guard and guide them 
 on their dangerous way. All this the mother felt ; 
 and it was a daily increasing pressure upon her heart. 
 Hopefully she could not look forward. Only with 
 trembling did she let her eyes go fearfully down 
 the future. 
 
 Twice a year the boys came up from the city to 
 spend a week at home ; but in not one of these visits 
 had the mother's heart found strength. The signs 
 of moral declension were too plainly written in their 
 faces ; and their conduct, while at home, was never 
 of a character to make their presence there a source 
 of real pleasure. Hope in her sons, had, therefore, 
 been growing weaker and weaker, and her heart, in 
 consequence, sadder and sadder. 
 
 When the letter of Mr. Edgerton came, she was 
 drooping about the house, scarcely able to perform 
 even the smallest domestic labor. In the first im 
 pulse of his feelings the excited father read to her 
 the distressing contents. The mother showed little 
 emotion ; but the inward shock was terrible. A 
 violent chill seized her soon after, and she went to 
 bed, prostrate both in body and mind. A fever 
 succeeded to this, and when the doctor was sum 
 moned, he pronounced her case exceedingly critical. 
 A week of anxious suspense followed : then a dan 
 gerous crisis was passed, and the mother began 
 7
 
 CS THE WAT TO PROSPER. 
 
 slowly to recover. But she did not come back even 
 to the low point of health from which she had fallen ; 
 and was never afterwards able to sit up more than 
 a few hours in each day. The slightest exertion 
 started the perspiration from every pore ; and even 
 a cool breath of summer air gave her cold. 
 
 As soon as his wife had passed this crisis, Mr. 
 Close went to Boston to see Mr. Edgerton about 
 William. But his visit, as far as he could see, re 
 sulted in no good. The master had a great many 
 complaints to make against the boy, and the boy 
 even more to make against the master. As to the 
 more serious allegations, William boldly denied 
 them. Mr. Close saw, plainly enough, that there 
 was nothing in either Mr. Edgerton or his family 
 calculated to exercise a very salutary influence over 
 a boy ; and hardly wondered that his son should 
 have been driven away into evil companionship. 
 After such remonstrance and advice as the occasion 
 seemed to require, Mr. Close went back to his home 
 with a heavy heart. Scarcely a week elapsed after 
 his visit to Boston, when a letter came from Peter, 
 conveying the afflicting intelligence, that William had 
 been detected in pilfering money from his master, 
 who had handed him over to a magistrate, and that 
 he was now in prison. 
 
 The heart-broken mother heard this dreadful 
 news with a moan of bitter anguish. In a week 
 they bore her out, and laid her wasted body to rest 
 in the peaceful grave. The unhappy boy, whose 
 conduct had thus snapped asunder a feeble thread 
 of life, never looked upon her face again. Once, in 
 after years, he stood where the green earth was
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 69 
 
 heaped above her ashes ; and stood there with the 
 knowledge that his conduct had hastened and made 
 rough her passage from the earth. What his feel 
 ings were we will not attempt to describe. May 
 none who read this history ever know them from 
 actual experience ! 
 
 / X 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 ONE day, it was after Hartley Stevens had been 
 nearly two years in Boston, he had occasion to go 
 to the office of Mr. Ludlow, where he met Peter 
 Close. The boys had seen each other occasionally, 
 ever since they had been in the city, but never had 
 any intimate association. 
 
 "Where in the world do you keep yourself?" 
 said Peter, on meeting Hartley. " I havn't seen 
 you for an age. What do you do in the evenings ?" 
 
 " Stay at home and read. Or walk about. 
 Or " 
 
 "Read! My gracious ! I'd go to sleep over a 
 book after standing at case all day." 
 
 " We go to Meeting one night in every week 
 Victor and I." 
 
 " Go to Meeting through the week ! Why, that's 
 more than I do on Sundays. Boys who have to 
 work as hard as we do, want some freedom and 
 pleasure. Have you been to the theatre yet ?" 
 
 Hartley shook his head. 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 6*
 
 70 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 " It isn't a good place for boys." 
 
 " Who says so?" 
 
 "Father says so. And so does my Sunday 
 school teacher." 
 
 " Sunday school teacher ! Oh, dear ! And so 
 you are a Sunday school scholar into the bargain ! 
 Dear ! Dear ! Dear ! Well, that does beat all ! 
 Slave like a dog all the week, and then be shut up 
 in a m jeting-house and school-room all the day on 
 Sunday, singing hymns and reading the Bible! 
 Well, that beats me out ! I can tell you what, my 
 boy, I wouldn't let them coop me up in that way," 
 speaking seriously and in a tone of advice. " Have 
 you had a sail in the harbor yet ?" 
 
 " No," replied Hartley. 
 
 "Why I'm off sailing almost every Sunday. 
 And you've never been to the theatre ?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Well, you must go there. Harm ! I wonder 
 what more harm there is in seeing Pizarro, Hamlet, 
 or King Lear, than in reading the history or the 
 plays ? Can you tell me where it lies ?" 
 
 Hartley was not, of course, prepared to argue 
 this point. He refrained from going to the theatre 
 more in obedience to his parents' wishes than from 
 any other reason. He had a vague notion of some 
 thing wrong in the thing itself ; but, so far as that 
 went, was not able to give a reason for his conduct. 
 His silence gave Peter confidence in his own posi 
 tions, and encouraged him to sap, if possible, the 
 foundations of the boy's integrity of character, in 
 at least this matter of obedience to parental in 
 junctions.
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. . 71 
 
 " Of course," went on Peter, " there is no more 
 harm in the one than in the other. I wish you 
 would just go once and see and judge for yourself. 
 They are playing Pizarro now. Oh ! it is a splendid 
 thing. Such scenery ! Such acting ! Come round 
 to our house to-night, after supper, and go with 
 me." 
 
 But Hartley shook his head positively, and said 
 "No." &> 
 
 "I wish you would," urged Peter. "Just once. 
 I want you to see for yourself. You needn't go 
 any more. It surely can't hurt you to see one 
 play." 
 
 "I'll think about it," said Hartley, in whose mind 
 a struggle was already beginning to arise ; and as 
 he spoke, he broke away from his tempter and 
 went back to Mr. Preston's office, from whence he 
 had come on an errand. 
 
 The words of Peter lingered in the mind of 
 Hartley. As he went home to his dinner, the large 
 bills on the corners attracted his attention more 
 than they had ever done. The word " Pizarro " 
 had for him a new interest, as it stood forth most 
 prominently. He could not pause to read the bills, 
 for Victor was with him ; and not for the world 
 would he have had him know what was passing in 
 his mind. 
 
 On the next day Hartley was again sent to the 
 office of Mr. Ludlow, where he again met Peter 
 Close. 
 
 " Well, Hartley," said Peter, " have you made up 
 your mind to go and see Pizarro?" 
 
 Hartley shook his head.
 
 72 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 " You still think it harm ?" remarked Peter. 
 
 " I don't know that there is any great harm in 
 it," replied Hartley. " But my father doesn't wish 
 me to go to the theatre." 
 
 " He'll know nothing about it." 
 
 "Yes, but I will," said Hartley. " I will know 
 that I disobeyed him." 
 
 " Oh dear ! And will that keep you awake at 
 night ?" 
 
 "Perhaps." 
 
 "I'd never sleep a wink -if such were the case 
 with me. But it isn't r because your father believes 
 theatrical performances to be wrong in themselves 
 that he does not wish you to see them. He's afraid 
 of the bad company. But you needn't go into that. 
 You've got sense and discretion enough to go and 
 come without speaking to any one." 
 
 This argument had some influence upon the mind 
 of Hartley. Peter then gave him some brief but 
 glowing descriptions of things heard and seen upon 
 the stage, all of which helped to increase an already 
 formed desire to witness a play, and to weaken the 
 boy's good resolutions. 
 
 For several days it so happened that Mr. Preston 
 had occasion to send Hartley to the office of Mr. 
 Ludlow, and each time he met Peter, who introduced 
 the subject of the theatre. The consequence was, 
 that the mind of Hartley became so haunted with 
 the idea of seeing a play, that he could hardly sleep 
 when he went to his bed. At length the words 
 " Last night of Pizarro " stared him in the face as 
 he went, one morning, to the office. Peter had 
 filled his mind with a desire to see this particular
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 73 
 
 play, and this announcement brought his mind into 
 the final struggle in which he was to maintain the 
 integrity of his purposes, or fall away. Of the 
 temptation to which he was subjected, Victor knew 
 nothing ; for, to mention it to him would have been, 
 equivalent to a settlement of the whole question. 
 And, moreover, he did not wish his brother to know 
 that he had even thought of the theatre with the 
 desire to go there. During the whole day, the 
 question of seeing Pizarro that night disturbed his 
 mind. He was to be alone in the evening, for Vic 
 tor was going out. The way was, therefore, all open. 
 He was free, so far as external influences were con 
 cerned, to gratify the desire he had to see a play, 
 or to act from his convictions of right. 
 
 Supper passed, and Victor went out. To go, or 
 not to go this was the important question that 
 now came up in the mind of Hartley, and called 
 for a quick decision. In half an hour the curtain 
 would rise. He had looked at the bills close 
 enough to be advised of that fact. The more he 
 debated the question, the more confused did his 
 mind become, and the more obscured his perceptions 
 of right. 
 
 "I'm sure there is no harm in just going once," 
 said the boy to himself. " What is the harm ?" 
 
 At last the decision was made by a kind of forced 
 mental effort. Something like a man who takes a 
 leap in the dark, Hartley shut the eyes of his 
 mind to all the suggestions of right, and started 
 forth to visit the theatre. That he did not feel 
 very comfortable may be supposed, for the voice of 
 conscience was not entirely silent. Still, he passed
 
 74 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 on, hurriedly, towards the playhouse, and in a few 
 minutes arrived in front of the building, before 
 which large lamps were making all nearly as light 
 as day, and into which a crowd of persons was pass 
 ing. To pause, now, would have been to enter 
 into a new and more painful struggle. A perception 
 of this was in the boy's thoughts; and, therefore, he 
 kept his mind above reflection ; or, rather, chained 
 down below it'. Going up, without hesitation, to 
 the ticket office, he paid for a ticket to the pit, and 
 then passed through the door that opened into the 
 avenue leading to that part of the house. The first 
 crash of the orchestral instruments jarred upon his 
 already highly strung nerves as the door closed be 
 hind him, and he found himself in a dimly lighted 
 passage way. A sight of the gorgeously painted 
 curtain had not yet made its appeal, even stronger 
 than the music, when, before the eyes of Hartley 
 arose, distinct as if it were a real vision, the 
 forms of his father and mother, and their strict in 
 junctions not to visit the theatre sounded in his 
 ears. He paused suddenly. It seemed as if his 
 parents must know what he was doing and be over 
 whelmed with grief at his disobedience. With 
 this thought came a strong sense of the evil of dis 
 obedience. 
 
 " I will not go," said he, with a quickly formed 
 resolution, turning, as he spoke, and hurrying back 
 along the way he had come. When he reached the 
 open air, and ran down the steps of the theatre into 
 the street, he panted like one who had been sud 
 denly brought from an exhausted into a pure and 
 healthy atmosphere. A heavy weight seemed lifted
 
 THE WAT TO PROSPER. 75 
 
 from his bosom ; and with a feeling of thankfulness 
 that he had been able to resist the temptation, he 
 returned home with sober feelings. On arriving 
 there, he found that -Victor had unexpectedly come 
 back. 
 
 Had Hartley spent the evening at the theatre, he 
 could not have concealed it from his brother without 
 a falsehood, and this it was impossible for him to 
 utter. As it was, he avoided looking him steadily 
 in the face when they met, and was not at all re 
 lieved in mind until he found himself in the darkness 
 of his little attic chamber, alone upon his pillow. 
 
 It was his first and last temptation, so far as the 
 theatre was concerned. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 AFTER Victor and Hartley had left home, affairs 
 took a rather more favorable turn with Mr. Stevens. 
 A difference of some two hundred dollars in his 
 annual expense soon enabled him to pay off the 
 whole of the mortgage on his little place. This 
 encouraged him. He was next able to conduct his 
 farming operations on a less contracted and exhaust 
 ing scale. The benefit of this was*soon apparent. 
 His fields produced a third more to the acre ; his 
 stock was improved in quality and increased in 
 numbers ; while every thing around him had the air 
 of thrift and comfort. 
 
 About the time Victor attained his eighteenth
 
 76 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 year being then a well-grown boy, taller than 
 some men he came home with his brother on a 
 short visit. In his round pepper-and-salt jacket, 
 and coarse cassinet trowsers, he did not present a 
 very elegant appearance. But his narrow income 
 would not afford a broadcloth coat. Mr. Stevens 
 pitied his son, when he saw how rapidly he was 
 shooting up to the stature of a man, without being 
 able to dress in any way becoming the appearance 
 of a man. 
 
 " I think, Victor," said he to him, a day or two 
 after he came home, " that I must help you a little 
 with your clothes. Thirty dollars is a sum too small 
 to procure you what you really ought to have at 
 your age." 
 
 But the boy shook his head, and said 
 
 "No, father. I set out to support myself, and I 
 wish to do it. Only three years more will pass be 
 fore I am through with my apprenticeship, and then 
 I will be able to buy what I want. I am only a boy 
 BOW and must be content with a boy's clothing. 
 When I am a man, I can afford to dress as a man. 
 I would much rather you would help Hartley a little. 
 Somehow or other his clothes wear out faster than 
 mine." 
 
 Mr. Stevens was touched by the noble indepen 
 dence and brotherly affection of his son. 
 
 "It shall be as you wish, Victor," he replied. 
 " I will help Hartley." 
 
 And he helped Victor also, although he was not 
 aware of the fact until after he became free. It 
 was done through the kind Mrs. Redmond, to whom 
 Mr. Stevens frequently sent presents of fruit and
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 77 
 
 other things, the product of his farm, and upon 
 whom he always called when business. took him to 
 Boston. In her hands he occasionally placed small 
 sums of money to be expended for the boys, but with 
 the strict injunction that Victor should not be made 
 aware of the fact, so far as himself was concerned. 
 
 Not once, from the time Hartley came to the city 
 to be the fellow apprentice and companion of his 
 brother, had there been a jar of discord between 
 them. When not at work, it was rarely that you 
 saw one without the other. They walked out, or 
 remained and read together at home during evenings. 
 They sat beside each other on Sunday in the Sabbath 
 School, or at church. They advised with and helped 
 each other in any difficulties that happened to arise. 
 They were, in fact, united in every thing, and hap 
 pier, of course, a thousand times happier, than if 
 there had been selfishness, division arid discord. 
 
 And so the years moved slowly on, bringing 
 nearer and nearer the time when the oldest brother 
 would be free. At twenty Victor was a tall and 
 stout young man. Notwithstanding the little addi 
 tions secretly made to his income by his father, and 
 notwithstanding that new shirts and stockings came 
 always in time of need from his mother, yet the ex 
 ternal appearance of Victor was far from being in 
 correspondence with his age, size, and the associates, 
 which his position as a Sabbath school teacher to 
 which post he had been appointed when eighteen 
 years of age drew around him. 
 
 Among those who had observed V'ctor for some 
 years, was a merchant tailor in good circumstances, 
 named Acker, who taught a class in the Sabbath 
 7
 
 78 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 School to which he was attached. This man 
 often noticed his plain attire, and pitied him on that 
 account. About the time Victor reached his twen 
 tieth year, Mr. Acker said to him, as they were 
 passing from the Sabbath School room one day. 
 
 " Call around to see me to-morrow evening. I've 
 something to say to you." 
 
 Wondering what Mr. Acker could want with him, 
 Victor called at his shop on Monday evening, and 
 was received with marked kindness of manner. 
 
 " How old are you now, Victor ?" asked the tailor, 
 Boon after the young man came in, breaking off for 
 some common-place observations that were at first 
 made. 
 
 " I was twenty last month," replied Victor. 
 
 " Then you will be out of your time in a year ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " You're a printer, I believe ?" 
 
 " Yes sir." 
 
 " Do you like the trade ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, very well." 
 
 " How much can a good journeyman earn a 
 week ?" 
 
 " From eight to twelve dollars." 
 
 " How much do you expect to earn ?" 
 
 " Ten dollars, at least." 
 
 " That will be very good. You ought to save 
 money on such wages." 
 
 " I expect to do so." 
 
 " Ya$ intend going into business, I suppose, at 
 some time or other ?" 
 
 " Gh, yes. By the time my brother Hartley is
 
 THE WAT TO PROSPER. 79 
 
 out of his time, I hope to have money enough saved 
 to buy a small office. 
 
 " You desire, then, that he shall be your part 
 ner ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir. We mean to begin the world together. 
 In union there is strength, you know." 
 
 "Very true," said Mr. Acker, with a smile of 
 approval. 
 
 " How much does Mr. Preston allow you for 
 clothing ?" he inquired, a moment afterwards. 
 
 " Thirty dollars," replied Victor. 
 
 " Too little for a young man of your age." 
 
 As Mr. Acker said this, he glanced at the coarse 
 garments of Victor. 
 
 "It isn't enough, I know," replied Victor. " But 
 it's all Mr. Preston agreed to pay, and I have no 
 right to expect more. A year will soon pass away, 
 and then I can buy such clothing as I need." 
 
 Mr. Acker mused for some time. 
 
 " I'll tell you what I've been thinking about," he 
 then said. " You are as large now as a man, and 
 circumstances have brought you into association with 
 young men who all dress much better than you do. 
 Of course, you see and feel this ; and it cannot but be 
 mortifying to your feelings. Now, suppose I make 
 you up a good, but not very costly suit of clothes, 
 say for thirty-five dollars, and let you pay me for 
 them after you are free. What do you say to 
 that ?" 
 
 Victor's face instantly flushed. He felt confused. 
 
 The desire to have better clothes had been increased 
 
 by what the tailor said, and here was the ofier to 
 
 have the desire gratified. But then, it came bur- 
 
 8
 
 80 THE- WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 dened with the idea of debt. He must make a draft 
 upon his future labor. 
 
 " Well, what do you say to it ?" repeated Mr. 
 Acker, seeing that Victor made no response to the 
 proposition. 
 
 u I think I'd better go on as I am," said Victor, 
 in a serious voice. 
 
 ; < Why so ?" 
 
 " I don't want to go in debt." 
 
 " You needn't feel it as a debt. I won't even 
 charge it on my books. You shall be perfectly free 
 to pay when it is most convenient. I'm not afraid 
 to trust you." 
 
 Victor shook his head. 
 
 " I'm sure my father wouldn't approve of it ; and 
 it doesn't seem right to me. I think I'd better 
 ' tough ' it out for the year, and take a fair start in 
 the world. I'm sure I would'nt feel comfortable 
 with a fine suit of clothes on my back not paid for ; 
 and I know my father wouldn't be pleased to see 
 me wearing them. He has warned me against going 
 in debt for any thing. A young man, says he, who 
 begins the world in debt fifty dollars, will be most 
 likely to remain in debt all his life." 
 
 "I don't know but your father is right," said 
 Mr. Acker. " It is bad to go in debt. But isn't 
 he able to assist you a little ?" 
 
 " He has other children to support, and I prefer 
 taking care of myself. He did offer to help me, 
 but I wasn't willing to accept any thing from him." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 *' He supported me until I was fourteen, and 
 gave me my schooling. That was a good deal.
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 81 
 
 Since that time, I have been able to earn m j own 
 living, and it is but right that I should continue to 
 do so. He is getting old, and ought to be laying 
 up something. I wouldn't feel right about it, if I 
 were to touch a dollar of his hard earnings. It 
 won't be" long before I'm free. I have stood it so 
 long, and I can easily stand it for another year. 
 For your very kind offer, Mr. Acker, don't think 
 me ungrateful. But, I am sure it would not be 
 right for me to accept it." 
 
 "I cannot but admire your manly independence," 
 said Mr. Acker. " Hold fast to this spirit, and your 
 Buecess in life is certain. Yes, debt is a bad thing 
 for a young man to begin the world with. Hun 
 dreds have ruined their prospects in life by forestall 
 ing their future efforts. It is best, as you say, for 
 you to go as you are. A year will soon roll around, 
 and then you will be prepared to make a fair start 
 in the world. That you will be successful, there is 
 not, in my mind, the shadow of a doubt." 
 
 The temptation offered by Mr. Acker was greater 
 than he supposed, and the amount of resistance in 
 the mind of the young man more than was apparent. 
 Victor had, on more than one occasion, been made 
 aware that his coarse clothes stood in the way of 
 his social pleasures. He never walked in the street 
 on Sunday with Anna Redmond, that he did not 
 feel his appearance as being little less than disgrace 
 ful to his neatly-dressed companion ; and he more 
 frequently avoided accompanying her home from 
 Church or Sabbath school, than he availed himself 
 of the privilege of being in her society. 
 
 Several times there had been company at the
 
 82 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 house of Mrs. Redmond, but though strongly urged 
 to come, Victor had avoided doing so because his 
 appearance would contrast so strongly with that 
 of others who would be there, as to make him feel 
 uncomfortable. 
 
 About a week after the interview with the tailor, 
 just mentioned, Mr. Preston said to Victor, who 
 came into his little office to ask him some question 
 about a work that was in his hands 
 
 " How old are you now ?" 
 
 "I was twenty last month." 
 
 -"Nearly a man in age and fully a man in size. 
 You are aware, Victor, that, according to your in 
 dentures, you are to be furnished with a new suit of 
 clothes when free ?." 
 
 Victor replied in the affirmative. 
 
 " A good Sunday suit, if you had it now, would 
 not only last you through the balance of your 
 time, but for six months afterward, if you were 
 careful not to abuse it. Suppose I give you the 
 clothes at this time, instead of waiting until you 
 are free ?" 
 
 "I would feel it as a great favor," replied Vic 
 tor. 
 
 " Very well. You have always been a good and 
 faithful boy, and it will afford me pleasure to anti 
 cipate this matter. As you go to dinner, stop in 
 here and I will give you orders for a suit of clothes, 
 a hat and a pair of boots." 
 
 Victor thanked his master for this act of kind 
 ness, and went back to his work with a pleasant 
 warmth in his bosom, such as he had not for a long 
 time felt.
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 88 
 
 The order for clothes was upon Mr. Acker, who 
 appeared even more pleased at receiving it than 
 Victor was in placing it in his hands. Victor had 
 his own suspicions touching Mr. Acker's agency in 
 the matter, and he was not far out of the way. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 A FEW evenings after Victor had received this 
 reward for his good conduct, he met Peter Close, 
 as he was coming home from his work. Peter had 
 a shabby look and a discontented air. The small 
 sum received for his clothing was injudiciously 
 spent, and, therefore, proved more inadequate to 
 the comfortable supply of things needed than even 
 the income of Victor. The different appearance in 
 the two young men, who were nearly of the same 
 age, was striking enough. 
 
 " How are you, Peter ?" said Victor, extending 
 his hand. 
 
 " Only so so," replied Peter, moodily. 
 
 " A'n't you well ?" 
 
 "Not in mind." 
 
 " What's the matter ?" 
 
 " I feel mad all the time." 
 
 " Why so !" 
 
 " Just look at me ! Here I am, earning Ludlow 
 at least ten dollars every week, and yet the mean 
 rascal keeps me in this condition. He knows as 
 well as I do, that thirty dollars is not half enough 
 to buy clothes for a young man of my age."
 
 84 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 " It's all I receive, Peter. And it is all he 
 agreed to give you when you were bound." 
 
 "I don't care. I was a mere boy then, and 
 didn't know any thing about what it cost for 
 clothes. But he knew, and took advantage of my 
 ignorance." 
 
 " It is not enough, certainly," replied Victor, 
 " but then it does no good to fret over it. In less 
 than a year you will be free." 
 
 " A year ! I'll be free in less than a week, if 
 there isn't a very great change for the better," said 
 Peter, with an angry emphasis in his tones. 
 
 Victor looked astonished. 
 
 '-' The fact is," continued Peter, "he's had enough 
 out of me, and more than enough. I earned as 
 much as he gave me from the first day I entered 
 his office ; and for three years I have taken the 
 place of a journeyman. And yet he won't give 
 me decent clothes to my back. There'll have to be 
 a change, I can tell you a very great change, or 
 he and I will dissolve partnership. I'm determined 
 on that." 
 
 " Don't think of such a thing for an instant," 
 said Victor Stevens, in reply. " Put up with any 
 thing rather than leave your place before your time 
 is out. An apprentice boy who leaves his master 
 never does well." 
 
 " I can earn ten dollars a week at press in any 
 office in the country. That's well enough for me." 
 
 "But the disgrace of leaving your master will 
 follow you wherever you go ?" 
 
 " Disgrace ! I wonder what disgrace there will
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 85 
 
 be in leaving a selfish, tyrannical old rascal like 
 Ludlow?" 
 
 " It is always considered disgraceful for an ap 
 prentice to leave his master." 
 
 " I know it is, hy masters." 
 
 " It is by every one." 
 
 "I -teg your pardon." 
 
 " Besides, it is not right," urged Victor. " A 
 contract is as binding, in honor and justice, on a 
 boy, as it is on a man. The agreement was for you 
 to stay with Mr. Ludlow until you were twenty-one 
 years of age ; for him to pay your board during the 
 time, and give you thirty dollars with which to 
 clothe yourself. Beyond that, you have no right 
 to expect any thing. So long as Mr. Ludlow per 
 forms his part of the contract, you are bound tc 
 perform yours." 
 
 " I'll take all the consequences of breaking it," 
 said Peter, tossing his head. 
 
 " They will, no doubt, prove far more serious 
 than you imagine." 
 
 " I'm not afraid. Nothing can be worse than 
 the present. I feel my situation to be intolerable. 
 I have no comfort, and nothing to encourage me,'* 
 
 "I fear," said Victor, "that you have not had 
 the best associates and advisers in the world." 
 
 Peter tossed his head half contemptuously, and 
 replied that he believed he was entirely competent 
 to advise himself. 
 
 After Victor had urged him strongly not to think 
 of leaving his place until he was free, the two young 
 men separated. 
 
 On the next day, while Mr. Ludlow was sitting
 
 86 THE "WAT TO PROSPER. 
 
 at his desk, Peter came to him, and with a certain 
 manner that annoyed the master, said 
 
 "Mr. Ludlow, can't you allow me something 
 more for my clothes ?" 
 
 " I allow you what I agreed to give when you 
 were bound, and just what the other boys receive." 
 
 " It isn't enough," said Peter. " My clothes are 
 so shabby that I'm hardly decent to appear in the 
 Btreet." 
 
 " Your own fault, I presume. From the com 
 pany you keep, I should suppose that over one-half 
 your money was spent for other purposes than 
 clothes." 
 
 " It is not so," replied Peter, in a rough, insulting 
 way, eyeing Mr. Ludlow with an angry look. 
 
 " See here, young man !" said the printer, rising 
 from his seat, and returning the steady look of his 
 apprentice. " Do you go immediately to the press 
 room, and resume your work, or I'll send for a police 
 officer, and have you flogged." 
 
 Peter had seen his master excited more than once 
 during his apprenticeship, and knew that he was not 
 a man to hesitate in an emergency. That he could 
 have him flogged by a police officer for refractory 
 conduct, he well knew, as the thing had been more 
 than once done within his knowledge. A moment's 
 reflection gave him to see that he was in a wrong 
 position. So grinding his teeth with anger, and 
 glancing a look of defiance upon his master, he 
 retreated to the press room and resumed his work. 
 
 Mr. Ludlow, on cooling off and reflecting on the 
 subject, came to the conclusion that it would be 
 better, as a matter of prudence, to be more liberal
 
 THE WAT TO PROSPER. 87 
 
 with Peter in the article of clothing ; for if he 
 should be tempted to run away from him, he would 
 lose his labor for a year labor that would cost him 
 about two hundred dollars, and could not be re 
 placed for less than four or five hundred. He was 
 fretted and annoyed at the boy's insolent manner ; 
 but a prudent regard for his own interest led him 
 to stifle his feelings. On his way home to dinner, 
 he stopped at his tailor's and selected a suit of gray 
 cloth for Peter. 
 
 " I will send him to get measured this evening," 
 said Mr. Ludlow. 
 
 But Peter did not return to the office after dinner ; 
 and when Mr. Ludlow sent for him towards sun 
 down, to tell him to go to the tailor's and get 
 measured for a suit of clothes, he heard to his 
 surprise, that he had not been to work during the 
 afternoon. In the evening he called at his boarding 
 house, and learned that he had not been there since 
 breakfast time. Information was given to the po 
 lice on the next morning, Peter not having returned 
 during the night. But the search for him proved 
 fruitless. 
 
 When Peter Close left the office at dinner time, 
 he did not go home, as usual, to his boarding house, 
 but took his way direct to the wharves. At one of 
 these was lying a vessel which had been loading for 
 Charleston, South Carolina, during the week, and 
 with the captain of which, Peter, in lounging about 
 the wharves on Sunday, had become acquainted. 
 
 " Got holiday to-day," said the captain, famil 
 iarly, as Peter stepped on board.
 
 88 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 . " Yes, and likely to have it for some time," re 
 plied Peter. 
 
 " How so ?" 
 
 " I'm out of my timel" 
 
 " The deuce you are !" 
 
 " Yes, I'm free to-day. And a pretty looking 
 fellow I am to be free. Not a decent shirt to my 
 back !" 
 
 *' Your master's bound to give you a freedom 
 suit," said the captain. 
 
 "And he was bound, also, to keep me decent 
 while I was an apprentice. But he didn't do it." 
 
 " You can compel him to give you a freedom 
 suit. Your indentures call for it." 
 
 " I've no friends to stand up for me." 
 
 " Stand up for yourself. Go to the police-office 
 and make your complaint." 
 
 " That's all easy enough to talk about. My 
 master would make his own statement, and tell fifty 
 plausible lies against me. Do you think a poor 
 devil in the plight that I am could get justice? Not 
 here, let me tell you." 
 
 " What are you going to do ?" 
 
 "Get out of the cursed place by the quickest 
 conveyance." 
 
 " Can't you get work here T' 
 
 " No. Every office is filled with boys. I could 
 name you over twenty journeymen who are walking 
 the streets with their hands in their pockets." 
 
 *' That's a hard case, certainly. Won't the man 
 you served your time with give you work ?" 
 
 " No. I quarrelled with him about clothes, and 
 he ordered me out of the office."
 
 THE WAY TO PEOSPEK. 89 
 
 The captain, not a very acute observer of human 
 nature, believed all this, and felt compassion for 
 Peter. 
 
 " Printers get good wages and plenty of work, in 
 Charleston," said he. 
 
 " Do they ? I wish I was there, then. But it's 
 no use wishing. I can't tramp that distance." 
 
 ' I'm short of hands," said the captain, " and will 
 give you a passage, if you will take the place of one 
 on the voyage." 
 
 " That I will do most cheerfully, and thank you 
 for the privilege into the bargain," replied Peter. 
 " When do you sail ?" 
 
 " This afternoon. The clearance has already 
 been made." 
 
 " So much the better." 
 
 " Get your trunk, then. The wind is fair, and I 
 shall be under way in a couple of hours." 
 
 " Trunk ! Shelf, you'd better say. I'm yet to 
 be rich enough to own a trunk." 
 
 The captain laughed and said 
 
 " Your bundle, then." 
 
 " Except rags, I've nothing but what you see on 
 my back," said Peter. 
 
 " You are poorly off, sure enough," remarked the 
 captain, " and I don't wonder that you bear no 
 goodwill towards your old master. If it were my 
 case, I should be very much inclined to let him feel 
 the weight of a pair of sledge hammers before turn 
 ing my back on the city." And the captain held 
 up his huge fists. 
 
 " And get in prison for your trouble," said Peter. 
 " No, I've had more to do with the old rascal for
 
 90 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 the present than is at all agreeable. In a year or 
 two I Avill return and settle the matter with him on 
 the ground of equality as a man. The day of reck 
 oning has got to come." 
 
 "You are right, no doubt," replied the captain. 
 " Get all fair and square a good suit of clothes 
 on your back, and money in your pocket, and then 
 haul him up to the bull-ring." 
 
 Two hours afterwards, the sails of the vessel 
 were spread to the breeze, and before the next 
 morning the runaway apprentice was out to sea, and 
 beyond the reach of pursuit. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 ON his arrival in Charleston, Peter found no 
 lifficulty in getting work. In a Boston newspaper 
 ^he saw himself advertised as a runaway, and a re 
 ward of twenty dollars offered for his apprehension. 
 He was described as a coarse, rowdyish looking boy, 
 who kept low company, and would, probably, be 
 found by the police sleeping at night in one of the 
 engine houses. All persons were cautioned not to 
 harbor or employ him under pain of prosecution. 
 
 The reading of this advertisement mortified, as 
 well as incensed the young man. The clothes he 
 had on were also particularly described ; and as he 
 had no ability to change them, he dreaded being 
 recognized in the office where he worked, hundreds 
 of miles away from Boston as he was. If any one
 
 THE WAT TO PROSPER. 91 
 
 looked at him earnestly in the street ; if a fellow 
 workman questioned him about his former place of 
 residence if the owner of the printing office observed 
 him more attentively than usual, his heart would 
 beat quicker, and he would feel certain that he was 
 either suspected or recognized. The first week 
 after getting work, he earned eight dollars. Four 
 of this had to be paid for boarding. The cost of 
 living he found to be much higher at the South than 
 it was in Boston. The remaining four dollars would 
 have been spent for a pair of coarse pantaloons, 
 only that the vices of smoking and chewing had to 
 be indulged, and the purchase of tobacco and segars, 
 besides a couple of glasses of liquor, on Saturday 
 evening, reduced his funds to three dollars and a 
 half too small a sum for his purpose. So the 
 purchase of the pantaloons had to be put off for an 
 other week. 
 
 Money in Peter's pocket always made him feel 
 uneasy. The fact that he possessed three dollars 
 and a half, and would receive ten dollars on the 
 next Saturday night, made him feel in a certain 
 sense, rich ; and privileged, therefore, to gratify 
 any little want he might feel. The consequence 
 was, that by the time the week ended, his three 
 dollars and a half had wasted, how, he could hardly 
 tell, until only two remained. This diminution 
 troubled his mind, and caused him to form a resolu 
 tion against the indulgence of a spending propensity. 
 A pair of coarse pantaloons and a vest were bought 
 on Saturday night ; and the pleasure he felt in 
 putting them on, strengthened his resolution to be 
 careful about his expenditures. By the end of the
 
 92 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 next week he was able to supply himself with a new 
 hat and a pair of half boots. The savings of three 
 more weeks enabled him to purchase a coat. After 
 this, pride in his personal appearance being awak 
 ened, he expended his earnings in handkerchiefs, 
 shirts, and stockings, of which he was nearly desti 
 tute. Then a commoner coat for every day wear, 
 a fine pair of pantaloons and a vest, and a pair of 
 boots were obtained. All this was accomplished in 
 the space of a few months. The change produced 
 in the young man in consequence, was so great, 
 that it is doubtful if his old master would have 
 known him had he met him on the street. 
 
 Yet, for all, Peter was far from being comforta 
 ble. He was but a runaway apprentice after all, and 
 liable, he felt, at any moment, to be apprehended 
 and sent back to his master. The danger of some 
 printer from Boston getting work in the same office 
 and recognizing him, was constantly before his eyes. 
 He felt uneasy whenever a stranger entered the 
 place. Regularly every Sunday he went round to 
 the different hotels and examined the registers of 
 arrivals to see if any one from Boston, likely to 
 know him, was in the city. 
 
 One Sunday, about six months after his entrance 
 into Charleston, and when he had not only supplied 
 himself with a good stock of clothing, but had about 
 thirty dollars in his trunk, he was startled to find 
 the name of Ludlow on the register of one of the 
 hotels. The initials were those of his old master, 
 and the residence given was Boston. Whether this 
 was his master or not, was more than he could tell. 
 But he did not feel it safe to stay an hour longer in
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 93 
 
 the city than necessity compelled him to remain. 
 That afternoon, without intimating to any one his 
 intention, he started for Mobile ; from thence he 
 proceeded to New Orleans, and up the river to 
 Natchez. By this time his money was nearly all 
 gone. At Natchez he could get no work. There 
 were several vacancies in New Orleans, he was told, 
 as the sickly season was about coming on, and 
 printers were leaving. He spoke of Cincinnati ; 
 but was discouraged in regard to work there, as a 
 number of printers from the lower country had 
 already gone up. 
 
 Having barely enough money to take him back 
 to New Orleans, Peter Close, after reflecting on the 
 chances of his getting sick, and on the probability 
 of Mr. Ludlow's not venturing so far South in the 
 summer time, concluded to run his chances and go 
 down the river. 
 
 In New Orleans he obtained work at the first 
 newspaper office where he made application ; wages 
 fifteen dollars a week. The price of boarding was 
 five dollars. In four weeks after the young man 
 entered New Orleans, he was down with the yellow 
 fever. The keeper of the boarding house where he 
 lodged, had him sent immediately to the hospital, 
 where he escaped death by only the narrowest 
 chance. On leaving the sick ward, he found him 
 self penniless, friendless, and so feeble that he 
 could scarcely walk alone. As to working, it was 
 entirely out of the question. He could not have 
 stood at the case for five minutes, nor applied suf 
 ficient strength to a press to have obtained the im 
 pression of a sheet. The deadly fever was still
 
 94 THE "WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 raging around him, claiming its scores of victims 
 daily. If he were to suffer a relapse, his fate would 
 be sealed. The only thing for him was to escape 
 from the city and flee for his life. But how was 
 he to get away ? He had not a dollar, and was a 
 stranger to all in the city. On going to his board 
 ing house for his trunk, he found that it had been 
 opened, and his best clothes removed, under the 
 belief that he would die at the hospital. He never 
 recovered them ; for he was in no condition to con 
 tend for his rights. In the hope of exciting the 
 sympathy of the person for whom he had worked, 
 he called at his printing oifice to ask the loan of a 
 sufficient sum to take him up the river as far as 
 Cincinnati; but the man- had been taken down 
 with the fever the day after he sickened, and was 
 dead. 
 
 The young man was in despair. He had gone 
 back to his boarding house, but his reception, if it 
 could really be called a reception, was such as to 
 make it plain to him that he would not be permitted 
 to remain there. He was not assigned a room, and 
 when at night he asked for one, he was told that 
 the house was full, and, therefore, he could not be 
 accommodated. 
 
 " Can't you give me a bed for to-night ?" he in 
 quired, in a half imploring voice. Physical exhaus 
 tion had broken down his spirits. 
 
 With some reluctance he was permitted to sleep 
 in one of the attics ; but he was told, at the same 
 time, that he must seek other lodgings on the next 
 day, as he could not and would not be accommo 
 dated.
 
 THE WAT TO PROSPER. 95 
 
 On the following morning, Peter Close made his 
 way to the levee, where he found two boats up for 
 Cincinnati, to sail on that day. Remembering that 
 when he took passage up the river before, he had 
 not been called on to pay his fare until the second 
 or third day, it occurred to his mind that he might 
 get away from the city by going on board of one of 
 these boats. When called on for his passage money, 
 he could explain his situation, and trust to the 
 humanity of the captain for the rest. He could 
 only put him on shore, and that would be an evil 
 less to be dreaded than remaining in the city, where 
 death lurked in the very atmosphere he breathed. 
 
 Acting on this resolution, the young man went 
 on board one of the boats about three o'clock in the 
 afternoon, and entered his name for a berth in the 
 cabin. His trunk, which was nearly empty, gave 
 him credit in the eyes of the clerk, as a responsible 
 passenger. At five o'clock the boat got under 
 way, and he saw the spires, cupolas and domes of 
 the Crescent City, gradually receding with a feeling 
 of sincere pleasure. But anxiety soon succeeded 
 to this. He was far from liking the looks of the 
 captain of the boat, and being weak, and therefore 
 unable to protect himself, if difficulties should arise, 
 he began to have fears for the result when it became 
 known that he had regularly entered his name as a 
 cabin passenger for Cincinnati, without having a 
 dollar in his pocket. 
 
 On the forenoon of the second day, an intimation 
 was given that passengers were expected to settle 
 the fare. Nearly all on the boat, except such as 
 had already attended to this part of the business,
 
 96 THE WAT TO PROSPER. 
 
 presented themselves at the clerk's office, according 
 to invitation. Close felt extremely uncomfortable. 
 He debated the question whether it would not be 
 his best policy to anticipate a discovery of his des 
 titute circumstances, by informing the captain of 
 his true position, and endeavoring to excite some 
 feelings of pity in his bosom. With this thought 
 in his mind, he examined the face of that personage 
 attentively, whenever he came into the cabin, or 
 passed him while he was on the guards. But the 
 oftener he looked into his hard countenance, the 
 feebler became his hope of moving his sympathies 
 by a direct appeal. The clerk of the boat was a 
 man apparently of the same stamp of character. 
 
 The day went by without any intimation from the 
 officers of the boat that he was expected to settle 
 his fare ; but several times he observed the clerk 
 looking at him, and he understood too well the mean 
 ing of that look. In the evening, after tea, as Close 
 was sitting on one of the guards, enjoying the cool 
 airs that melted even his forehead, the clerk of the 
 boat approached him and said, in no very bland 
 way 
 
 " What's the number of your berth ?" 
 
 The number was twenty. But it instantly oc 
 curred to Peter that, by saying twenty-five, he 
 might gain a longer time, as, no doubt, the occupant 
 of number twenty-five had paid his fare. He un 
 derstood perfectly well, why the clerk had asked 
 the question. His decision was made almost as 
 quick as thought. 
 
 " Twenty-five," was the unhesitating reply.
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 97 
 
 " Twenty-five ?" the clerk looked at him half 
 doubtingly. 
 
 "Didn't I say so?" returned Peter, with some 
 impatience in his. manner. 
 
 " Yes, you did," replied the clerk, rather rudely, 
 and passed on. 
 
 The heart of the young man throbbed quickly 
 and strongly. He had lied to gain a little time, 
 and his lie was, evidently, but half believed. When 
 the truth became known, it would be much worse 
 for him than if he had answered correctly and met 
 the consequences. He understood that fully, and 
 the thought did not add anything to the comfort of 
 his feelings. 
 
 Peter Close was nearly the last passenger who 
 retired that night. Number twenty-five went to bed 
 early. The clerk, whose suspicions were aroused, 
 observed this, and Peter saw that he observed it. 
 He passed in and out of the cabin frequently, and 
 never without fixing his eyes upon the suspected 
 passenger. At length the young man became so 
 weak and overwearied that he could sit up no longer ; 
 so laying off a portion of his clothes, he crept into 
 his berth. He had not been long there before the 
 clerk came through again, and seeing that he had 
 at length retired, went up to him and said 
 
 " I thought you told me that your berth was 
 twenty-five." 
 
 When any one makes the attempt to lie through 
 a difficulty, his mind generally becomes confused. 
 The truth is a very simple thing, a mere question 
 of facts, clearly arranged in the memory, back to 
 which the thoughts can constantly go as clearly
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 defined landmarks. Bat a lie, while it needs sup 
 porting, has no fixed relation to any thing, and 
 more than ordinary ingenuity is required to make 
 the new lies, which have to be told, in order to sus 
 tain the first one that is uttered, to perfectly agree 
 with it as to seem part of a real truth. It rarely 
 happens that a lie is well sustained by its associate 
 lies. The want of a family likeness is generally so 
 apparent as even to force itself on the observafikm. 
 Lies told to hide an error, to avoid or escape a 
 difficulty, always make matters worse. As in the 
 present case. 
 
 " So it is," replied Peter Close to the question 
 of the clerk. 
 
 " Why are you not in it, then ?" said the clerk. 
 
 " Because another man took it in mistake. I did 
 not like to turn him out, as he looked sick, and so 
 waited until all were in bed to get the berth that 
 woulcf*t5e vacant." 
 
 " You are going to Cincinnati ?" 
 
 "lam." 
 
 " Be kind enough to hand me your fare. You 
 have neglected to settle it." 
 
 " If you will refer to ^our book you will find that 
 twenty-five has settled." 
 
 " I am aware of that. But twenty has not. So 
 just pay over the fare and save yourself trouble. I 
 know the man in twenty-five very well ; and re 
 member when he paid his fare. He's about as sick 
 as I am." 
 
 Peter felt that the trying moment had come, 
 and that, by falsehood, he had sealed up all the 
 avenues to sympathy in the mind of the captain or
 
 THE WAT TO PROSPER. 99 
 
 clerk. Some moments elapsed before he replied. 
 He searched in vain for some new expedient by 
 -which to gain farther time. 
 
 " Come," said the clerk, " be quick. I want youi 
 fare." 
 
 " I'll settle it in the morning," said Close. 
 
 " That won't do. It must be settled to-night." 
 
 " You see I'm in bed. I can't run away before 
 morning." 
 
 " If you wish to save yourself trouble, my friend," 
 
 id the clerk, in a cool, but resolute voice, " you 
 will settle your fare immediately. We never per 
 mit ourselves to be trifled with on board of this boat 
 by tricks such as you are endeavoring to pass off." 
 
 Escape was now impossible. To tell the truth 
 and make an appeal for sympathy, was now the 
 only course left. In a low tone, Peter Close made 
 a full confession to the clerk of his situation, and 
 why he had come on board of the boat. 
 
 "It was death to remain," he closed by saying, 
 " and this was my only chance of escape." 
 
 " Then you ought to have said so when you came 
 on board of the boat," replied the clerk. "But I 
 do not credit your statement. You have lied in 
 nearly everything else that you have said to-night, 
 and most likely lie in this." 
 
 "Be assured," said the young man, humbly, "I 
 tell the truth." 
 
 "And be assured," returned the clerk, contempt 
 uously, "that I do not credit a word you say. 
 You've attempted a swindle, and that never goes 
 down on these waters. If you have the money, just 
 hand it over ; if not, the quicker you turn and get
 
 100 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 on your riggin' the better. I will be back in two or 
 three minutes." 
 
 There was no compromise in the man's voice. 
 For some moments after he retired, Peter lay half 
 paralyzed with confusion ^and alarm. Then he 
 stepped down from the berth and putting on his 
 coat went out to seek the captain, in the hope of 
 moving him by a strong appeal. 
 
 "Ah! here's the man himself," said the clerk, 
 as Peter stepped from the cabin. He was about 
 entering with the captain. 
 
 " Well, my fine fellow ! have you brought the 
 money to pay for your passage," said the latter, in 
 a half contemptuous, half threatening voice. 
 
 " I have no money," replied Peter. His manner 
 was subdued and imploring. "And have already 
 explained to your clerk my situation." 
 
 " You've told him a dozen or two abominable 
 falsehoods, as far as I can make it out, and this I 
 suppose is another," said the captain, roughly. 
 " But it all wont do. We have a summary way 
 of dealing with gentlemen of your kidney who 
 attempt a swindle of this kind, which never needs 
 repeating. A few hours acquaintance with cotton 
 wood, bears, snakes, and aligators, if survived, gene 
 rally cures the passion for playing off tricks on 
 steamboat captains. Are you prepared to settle 
 your passage ?" 
 
 " Gentlemen ! I am without a dollar. I have 
 been sick with the fever; and am now weak as 
 a child. It was my only hope of escape from 
 death." 
 
 " Pah !" The captain tossed his head contempt-
 
 j 
 
 ' f 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 101 
 
 uously. " The old beggar woman's story of six 
 starving children and a sick husband at home. 
 William, tell the pilot to bring-her-to at that point 
 just above; and order the hands to get the boats 
 ready." 
 
 A full moon, shining down from a cloudless sky, 
 gave distinctness to every object on the river's bank. 
 The point of land mentioned by the captain, was a 
 clay bluff, a hundred feet high, with a shore only a 
 few feet wide at its base. As the Captain gave this 
 direction to the clerk, Peter Close threw his eyes 
 hurriedly towards the land, and shuddered. 
 
 "You will not do that, surely?" said he to the 
 Captain. " Remember, that I am a sick man, and 
 if you put me on shore at midnight, where there is 
 no habitation, it will be the death of me." 
 
 As Peter said this he made a movement to re- 
 enter the cabin, with the intention of appealing to 
 the passengers for protection. But the Captain 
 stepped quickly between him and the door. 
 
 " Let me go in," said Peter. 
 
 "No, sir," returned the Captain, resolutely. 
 
 " I wish to get something from my berth." 
 
 " We'll keep what you've left there to pay your 
 passage and the trouble of landing you." 
 
 "I'll cry murder," said Peter. 
 
 The Captain instantly collared him with a strong 
 grip. 
 
 " One sound from your lips," said he, with an 
 oath, " and I'll pitch you into the river ! There ! 
 Down with you to the lower deck." And he pushed 
 the unhappy young man towards the stair-way, who, 
 powerless in his grasp, obeyed passively. 
 9
 
 102 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 " Have his trunk brought down, and anything 
 that may be in his berth," said the Captain to the 
 clerk, who joined them as they reached the lower 
 deck. 
 
 Resistance for one in his circumstances, Peter 
 felt to be hopeless. Another fruitless appeal was 
 made to the Captain and clerk, and then he submit 
 ted, passively, and in silence. Opposite the point 
 of land referred to, the steamboat was brought-to. 
 'A small boat was dropped into the water, manned 
 by two of the hands. Into this the passenger's 
 trunk was thrown, and he directed to follow. Weak, 
 faint and trembling, the young man obeyed. A few 
 vigorous pulls, and the boat struck upon the shore. 
 His trunk was handed out, but he did not rise from 
 his seat. The fact was, his limbg refused to bear 
 his weight. 
 
 " Come!" said one of the men, roughly. 
 
 But Peter sat motionless. 
 
 " Here, Bill ! catch hold of that arm, we'll soon 
 discharge this cargo," he added, seizing hold of the 
 passive young man. In a moment more, Peter 
 Close was pitched from the boat. Staggering 
 forward, he fell upon his trunk. 
 
 The boat pushed instantly from the shore. In 
 less than a minute from this time the wheels of the 
 steamer were again in motion, and the shrill sound 
 of the steam, escaping with each revolution, echo 
 ing sharply from the neighboring bluffs. In less 
 than five minutes, she swept around a jutting point 
 and disappeared from the eyes of the desolate young 
 man, who had risen up and now sat crouching upon 
 his trunk.

 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 105 
 
 A little while longer, and all was still as death, 
 Bave the low murmur of the turbid river as it swept 
 on its never ceasing way to the ocean. The air* 
 had become chilly with falling dews, and the frame 
 of Peter shivered as the cold struck through his thin 
 garments. At the same time, a dull pain, with 
 heat, was perceptible in his forehead. This pain 
 increased, and flushes of heat began to pass over 
 the surface of his body. A faintness and dizziness 
 succeeded to this. Unable to retain his upright 
 position on the trunk, Peter at length sunk down 
 upon the ground, a few feet from the river's brink. 
 
 Delirium soon after succeeded. When next con 
 scious of surrounding objects, he was in the -small 
 log cabin of a wood cutter, who had found him on 
 the shore, and lying upon the only bed the comfort 
 less tenement contained. Three days had passed 
 since the closing of his senses. To a physician be 
 longing to a large plantation near at hand, he was 
 indebted for his life. Without prompt medical at 
 tendance, it would not have been worth a feather. 
 As it was, the most judicious and constant attention 
 was required, and his recovery was so slow, that 
 nearly three weeks elapsed before he was able to 
 walk about. In the meantime, he had been re 
 moved to the house of the overseer on the planta 
 tion to which the physician belonged, where he was 
 attended by an old black woman who was assigned 
 the task of nursing him. 
 
 On being questioned as to the reason why he had 
 
 been left on the shore, Peter deemed it best to tell 
 
 nothing but the truth. But, even his truth was 
 
 only half credited. It could not be believed that, 
 
 10
 
 106 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 for the cause assigned, a sick man would be left 
 upon the shore at midnight. He saw that doubts 
 were felt, and that injurious suspicions as to his 
 real character were entertained. As he grew 
 stronger, all around looked upon him more coldly. 
 The owner of the plantation had shown no interest 
 in him whatever ; and the overseer, to whose house 
 he had been removed by request of the physician, 
 evidently felt his presence as unwelcome. So ap 
 parent was this to the young man, that as soon as 
 he was able to walk about, and when he felt a por 
 tion of his strength returning, he went to the wood 
 cutter who had found him on the shore, and asked 
 his advice as to what he should do, or how he was 
 to get away. 
 
 " There's a man, below here, with a keel boat," 
 replied the wood cutter, "who has just buried one 
 of his hands that died of the fever. He's only a 
 boy left, and can't get along with that force. No 
 doubt he'll give you a passage, if you help him 
 to work his way up to Natchez." 
 
 "Am I strong enough ?" asked Peter. 
 
 "You don't look as if you had much muscles 
 left," replied the man. "But I guess you can do 
 something." 
 
 Peter went down to see the man who had the 
 boat. Neither party was much prepossessed in 
 favor of the other; however, an agreement was 
 entered into. Peter was to have his passage and 
 meals, and five dollars on his arival at Natchez.
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 107 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 As to the particular nature of keel -boat service, 
 Peter Close was altogether ignorant. When he in 
 formed the overseer, in whose house he had been 
 staying, that he had engaged to work his passage 
 on board a keel boat to Natchez, that personage 
 stared. But he made no objection. He wished to 
 get rid of the young man, and, in his heart, really 
 cared but little how the thing was done. 
 
 On the next morning, one of the negroes on the 
 plantation carried Peter's trunk to the river. On 
 parting with the young man, the negro said in a 
 serious voice 
 
 "Never stand dat, no how, massa." 
 
 It was a little after sun rise, and the owner of 
 the boat was all ready to renew his upward voyage. 
 Although it was August, a cold fog was winding 
 along the course of the river, leaving its large 
 beads of moisture upon everything in its way. 
 Peter shivered as he descended into this humid 
 stratum of air. 
 
 "I expected you half an hour ago," said the 
 owner of the boat, a little impatiently, as the young 
 man handed his almost empty trunk on board. 
 " There, you and Jim take the line, and let's be 
 moving brisk while we've got the cool of the 
 morning." 
 
 Jim, the boy, who was about twelve years old, 
 9*
 
 108 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 and who looked as if he'd never had any flesh on 
 his body, was already standing some twenty yards 
 in front, holding a line attached to the boat. The 
 boy stretched the rope taught as this was said, and 
 the new hand, as he obeyed the direction given, 
 had his first correct notion of keel-boat service. 
 But, it was too late to retreat now. He "did not 
 wish to go back to his old quarters, where his ap 
 pearance would have been unwelcome, and he was 
 anxious to reach, at no matter what labor and 
 sacrifice possible to be endured, one of the cities 
 above. 
 
 The owner of the little vessel took his station at 
 the helm, and Peter and the boy, with the rope 
 over their shoulders, bent forward and commenced 
 their slow and laborious march along the winding 
 shore, dragging after them a boat, loaded with 
 sugar and groceries, against a current running at 
 the rate of four miles an hour. In a few minutes, 
 the perspiration was starting from every pore of 
 the young man's body, weakened by long and se 
 vere illness. Before they had progressed a mile, 
 he was so exhausted that he kept his feet only by 
 support of the rope, against which he bent his 
 body. A little farther, and he sunk to the ground, 
 unable to move another step. The owner of the 
 boat, muttering and swearing in an undertone, 
 jumped upon the shore, and ordering Peter 'to 
 take his place at the rudder, seized the rope, and 
 prepared to give the little vessel a more vigorous 
 onward movement. The young man crept on board 
 as best he could. Too much exhausted to stand, 
 he was obliged to sit upon a box and lean almost
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 109 
 
 the entire weight of his body on the tiller, as he 
 gave it the requisite motions to guide the boat. 
 
 Another mile was accomplished, and then the 
 party halted for breakfast, which consisted of coffee, 
 pilot bread and salt pork, to which was added a 
 drain of bad whiskey. Peter found himself with a 
 better appetite than he had expected, and his food 
 would have done him good, had he not joined his 
 companions in the bad whiskey. After the meal 
 was concluded, Peter once more took his place at 
 the tiller, and the wearisome journey was again 
 commenced. Soon, however, there was a change 
 in the channel, and another system of navigation 
 had to be adopted. The boat had to be poled up 
 the stream for the distance of half a mile, and then 
 along the shore for a mile farther. Peter was 
 ordered to take a long pole, the weight of which, in 
 his weak state, was more than he could carry with 
 out fatigue, to assist in this work. The boy was 
 too small to be of any service here,, so he was 
 placed at the helm. The water was deep, and it 
 required nearly the whole length of the long pole 
 to reach the bottom. Taking his place at the bow, 
 the owner of the boat, after telling Peter to follow 
 him, let his pole fall into the water ; the end pro 
 jected only two or three feet above the deck. Bend 
 ing forwards and downwards until his shoulders 
 rested upon the end of the pole, he commenced 
 walking slowly towards the stern, giving, as he did 
 so, the boat a motion up the stream. Peter under 
 stood all this clearly enough, and following the 
 example thus set, let his pole drop to the bottom, 
 and applied his shoulders to the projecting end in a
 
 110 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 similar manner. By this time the sun was pouring 
 down its hot and sultry rays upon the heads of the 
 toiling voyagers, and the sick young man felt him 
 self Avilting beneath its scorching heat as a leaf 
 plucked from its stem. Two or three times did he 
 walk thus from the bow to the stern of the boat, 
 applying, however, but little strength, for he had 
 scarcely any to give, and aiding, only in appearance, 
 the progressive motion. His total inefficiency was 
 perceived by the owner of the boat, who was about 
 swearing at him for a lazy, shirking vagabond, when 
 the pole of Peter having rested on some yielding 
 inequality at the bottom; gave way as he leaned 
 upon it, and he was projected head foremost into 
 the river. There was a strong current running at 
 the place where this accident occurred, and he was, 
 therefore, swept rapidly down the stream. Too 
 weak, on coming to the surface to struggle even for 
 his life, the young man, after gasping for breath, 
 went under again. The owner of the boat as soon 
 as he had time for reflection, sprung into the water 
 and swam, wfth a few vigorous strokes to the shore. 
 Then starting down the river at full speed, he 
 reached a point at some distance below the place 
 where he had seen the body of the young man rise 
 last to the surface, and waited for its reappearance. 
 In a moment or two it rose within a few feet of the 
 spot on which he stood. Dashing into the water, 
 he grasped a part of the clothing, and dragged the 
 nearly insensible form to the shore. His next care 
 was for his boat, which, with no one on board but 
 the lad, was floating down the stream at the will of 
 the current. Swimming out to this, he directed its
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 course to the shore, and after fastening it to the 
 land, turned his attention to his half dead companion, 
 muttering as he did so 
 
 "A curse on the fellow! I'm always playing 
 the fool in one way or another." 
 
 Some negroes who had seen from a neighboring 
 field the disaster, gave the alarm ; and with a white 
 man came running down to the river. They arrived 
 in time to save the boatman any further trouble in 
 regard to the half-drowned man, who was taken up 
 by the negroes, and removed to a house which stood 
 at no great distance from the water. Just then, an 
 upward bound steamboat stopped near where the 
 keel-boat lay, for the purpose of taking in wood. 
 With the captain of this boat, the owner of the keel 
 boat made an agreement to be towed a hundred 
 miles up the river for a certain price ; and in less 
 than ten minutes after the body of Peter was borne 
 away by the negroes, he was gliding away at the 
 rate of eight or ten miles an hour. He had forgot 
 ten to leave the young man's trunk on the shore. 
 
 At the time Peter Close was precipitated into the 
 river, every pore of his body was open, and every 
 muscle exhausted and relaxed. When his nearly 
 extinguished life flowed back again to the cold ex 
 tremities, he felt stiff, and was sensible of a dull 
 pain in his joints and limbs. I 1 ever soon after ap 
 peared ; and when, owing to symptoms of serious 
 illness, a doctor was called, he pronounced the at 
 tack to be inflammatory rheumatism. 
 
 The particulars of what the unhappy young man 
 suffered during the next three months, we will not 
 linger to detail. His home was a negro quarter,
 
 112 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 and his attendant a woman called in from the field 
 by the half reluctant owner of the plantation. The 
 pain he suffered, night and day, for a greater part 
 of the time, was terrible. In November, having 
 but partially recovered from the effect of his rheu 
 matism, and with scarcely sufficient clothing to hide 
 his nakedness, Peter obtained a deck passage on 
 board of a steamboat to New Orleans ; and, spirit 
 less and disheartened, took his way to that city, in 
 order to seek for work at his trade. 
 
 On arriving, he applied at several offices for em 
 ployment, but his miserable appearance at once sug 
 gesting the idea of degraded intemperance, caused 
 his applications to be refused. At length, in despair, 
 he offered to work for his board and clothes. The 
 manner of this offer touched the feelings of the 
 individual to whom it was made, and he agreed to 
 take him on trial, and pay him the usual wages, 
 according to the amount of work he might do. 
 
 On attempting to stand at the case, Peter found 
 that, in a little while, his limbs ached so dreadfully, 
 that it was impossible to endure it. On applying 
 for a high stool, and stating the reason, the master 
 printer looked dissatisfied ; but, after a little reflec 
 tion, consented to let him have what he wanted. 
 But even sitting for hours, with the composing-stick 
 in his hand, he found excessively fatiguing, and his 
 arm ached so by night that it seemed as if he could 
 not endure it a moment longer. On the next day, 
 he suffered even more, and on the third day he had 
 to quit work some time during the middle of the 
 afternoon in consequence of pain and exhaustion. 
 On the following morning, however, he was early at
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 113 
 
 his work again, and kept at it through the day. 
 By the end of the week, his wages amounted to 
 seven dollars, four of which it cost for his boarding. 
 
 As he had shown nothing like intemperance 
 during this time, and came steadily to his work, the 
 printer began to have more confidence in him. 
 This was manifest, and Peter felt more comfortable. 
 But he could not get on any faster in the second 
 than he did during the first week. The pain with 
 which he worked was incessant, and often became 
 intolerable. On the third Sunday after his return 
 to New Orleans, he got drenched with rain, while 
 on a little pleasure party with two or three acquaint 
 ances he had made at his boarding-house. This 
 gave the disease that still lingered in his system 
 an acute form, and he was in bed nearly the whole 
 of the following week, and under the hands of the 
 doctor. 
 
 Thus passed his first three weeks after returning 
 to New Orleans. They present a fair epitome of the 
 whole ensuing winter. Spring found Peter Close 
 but little better off than he was five months before ; 
 and when the day arrived that completed his mino 
 rity, he was lying upon his back, suffering from acute 
 pain his earnings exhausted, his clothes poor and 
 scanty, and his place at the printing office, to which 
 he had not been able to go for three weeks, filled 
 by another. 
 
 It was a sad, instead of a bright and hopeful day, 
 to the suffering young man. How often had he 
 looked forward to the time when he should attain 
 his twenty-first year, his heart bounding with plea- 
 Bant anticipations ! That time had come, but by
 
 114 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 his' own folly he had destroyed the long expected 
 happiness. There was scarcely a green spot in the 
 year he had just come through a year of which he 
 had robbed his master, without gaining any advan 
 tage to himself; and there was little in the future 
 towards which he could look with hope. The doc 
 tor had told him that it was doubtful if he would 
 ever fully recover his health, that it was certain 
 he would never be a very strong man, and that only 
 by great care of himself would he be able to keep 
 free from the acute attacks from which he had suf 
 fered during the winter. 
 
 Thus it was with Peter Close on the day he at 
 tained his majority. How different with the up 
 right, conscientious, self-denying Victor Stevens. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 CONTRARY to the expectation of Victor Stevens, 
 on becoming free, Mr. Preston presented him with 
 an order for an entire suit of clothes. 
 
 "But I have already received my freedom suit," 
 said Victor, handing back the order. " I am not 
 entitled to this." 
 
 " Oh, yes, you are. Good conduct and industry 
 have earned the right. And now, it is but justice 
 for me to say that I have never had a boy in my 
 office, except your brother, who gave me such en 
 tire satisfaction. That you will prosper in the 
 future I have not the smallest doubt ; for, in your
 
 THE WAT TO PROSPER. 115 
 
 character are all the elements of prosperity. Con 
 tinue in my office, as usual, and your wages shall 
 be equal to that of the best journeyman I employ. 
 While I have work, never fear that you will be 
 idle." 
 
 That was a proud and happy day in the life of 
 Victor Stevens. For all his self-denial, forbear 
 ance under oppression and injury, and long suf 
 fering amid many privations, he was fully rewarded. 
 He looked back, not with regret, but with pleasure. 
 Faithful to his early honest and honorable purposes, 
 he was now reaping his first ripe harvest field, in 
 which good seed had sprung up, and under good 
 culture, reached the season of full ear. 
 
 In silence, yet with a heart trembling with plea 
 sant- ^motions, Victor heard the words of approval 
 from the lips of Mr. Preston. He was about turn 
 ing away, when he paused and said, half hesitatingly 
 as he spoke, 
 
 "I know the office is full now, Mr. Preston, but 
 if you could make room for my brother Thomas." 
 
 "Not another printer in the family!" said Mr. 
 Preston, in surprise, smiling as he made the re 
 mark. 
 
 " Yes," replied the young man. " It is a very 
 good trade, and we all think Thomas had better 
 learn it." 
 
 " But, what does he think ?" 
 
 "Just as we do." 
 
 "You all seem to have the happy faculty of 
 thinking alike," said Mr. Preston, smiling again. 
 
 "It is a pleasant thing, this family concord 
 this mutual concern for each other's good. I only 
 10
 
 116 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 wish we had more of it. And so you would like to 
 get your brother into my office ? How does Hartley 
 feel about it?" 
 
 "Oh, he would like it very much." 
 
 " Well, Victor, I'll think about it. As you said, 
 the office is full. I didn't intend taking another 
 boy just now. But, you and Hartley have proved 
 so faithful as apprentices, that the temptation of 
 another brother is certainly strong. Let me turn 
 over the matter in my thoughts for a day or two, 
 and I will then give you an answer." 
 
 The answer, much to the satisfaction of the two 
 older brothers, was favorable, and Thomas Stevens, 
 then fifteen years of age, was taken into the office. 
 
 About this time the father of Peter and Wm. 
 Close died. Six months after Peter ran away from 
 his master, William escaped from the House of Re 
 fuge ; and, up to the day of his death, not a word 
 of intelligence respecting either of them found its 
 way to Mr. Close. Their conduct planted his pil 
 low with thorns, and made wretched the last days 
 of his troublesome life. Frank, his youngest son, 
 was thirteen when this sad event occurred. The two 
 boys who had gone to Boston, turned out so badly, 
 that Mr. Close had determined to keep Frank at 
 home and raise him on the farm. But his death 
 left the boy without a real friend. A brother of Mr. 
 Close, who administered on the estate, and assumed 
 the guardianship of Frank, sold the little farm and 
 cottage and paid off the debts. After this was 
 done, he said that nothing remained the debts 
 having consumed the entire proceeds of the sale. 
 No one, however, believed this. But, as Mr.
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 Edward Close was pretty well off in the world, no 
 body cared to interfere in the matter. Six months 
 after his father's death, Frank was bound an ap 
 prentice in the city of Boston, to learn the trade of 
 a hatter. Thus his uncle got rid of him. Without 
 a friend to look after or to counsel him, the poor 
 boy was subjected to every species of hardship. 
 He had the example of running away, set by his 
 oldest brother, before him, and, at the age of 
 eighteen, following that example, left the service 
 of his master. Sixpence and an old hat were offered 
 as a reward for his apprehension ! 
 
 A year before Hartley Stevens was free, he dis 
 covered, by some accident, that there was a flaw 
 in the indenture by which he was bound to serve 
 Mr. Preston until he was twenty-one years of age. 
 He mentioned it, incidentally, to one of the journey 
 men in the office, who advised him by all means to 
 accept the advantage which the discovery offered. 
 
 " And leave my place ?" inquired Hartley, with 
 a flushing cheek. 
 
 "Certainly. Preston has no legal claim on you. 
 A year is a good while. You can lay up a hundred 
 or two dollars in that time, if you're prudent." 
 
 " Did you imagine that I would do so dishonor 
 able a thing?" said Hartley, indignantly. 
 
 "Oh, just as you please," returned the man, 
 with a sneering air. "If you're fool enough to stay 
 when the law will let you go clear, stay. It's no 
 loss to me." 
 
 "Nothing is ever really gained by a dishonest 
 action," said Hartley, firmly. "I shall, therefore, 
 Beek for no good in that course of life. As for my 
 11
 
 118 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 indentures, I have never felt bound by them I 
 never think of them. I gave my word to remain 
 with Mr. Preston until I was twenty-one years of 
 age, and, if there had been no binding in the case, 
 it would have been all the same to me. I wouldn't 
 give much for either man or boy, who only acted 
 right because legally bound to do so." 
 
 The journeyman made a profane angry reply to 
 this, when Hartley turned from him with a proud 
 consciousness of being able to act justly towards 
 others from a principle of rectitude. 
 
 It so happened, that a part of this conversation 
 was overheard by the foreman of the office, who 
 felt it his duty to inform Mr. Preston of the occur 
 rence, particularly as to the bad advice offered by 
 the journeyman. Mr. Preston felt justly indignant 
 at the latter; and immediately sending .for, him, 
 paid him the wages that were due, and requested 
 him to leave the establishment forthwith. 
 
 On the next day, when Hartley came into his 
 counting-room, to ask some question about work, 
 Mr. Preston said 
 
 "I understand that you have discovered a flaw 
 in your indentures." 
 
 "I merely mentioned it," replied Hartley, feel 
 ing hurt at the intimation, and showing that such 
 was the case ; " but I have not had the most remote 
 intention of taking advantage of the fact." 
 
 " I have, myself, been aware for some time of 
 the existence of this flaw," said Mr. Preston.- 
 "You were not legally bound, and, I have, there 
 fore, no right to hold you. Perhaps I have done 
 Wrong in letting you remain under the impression
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 119 
 
 that you were under a legal obligation to give me 
 your services until you were twenty-one years of 
 age." 
 
 " I am sorry," was the reply of Hartley to this, 
 evincing a good deal of feeling as he spoke, " that 
 you think so poorly of me, as to suppose that I 
 would do a thing clearly wrong in itself to gain a 
 temporary good. My father apprenticed me to you 
 until I was twenty-one, and I assented to the con 
 tract. Since that time, I have not thought about 
 being bound by the law. I came to you in good 
 faith, and will remain in your service until I am a 
 man." 
 
 " Just the sentiments I expected to hear you 
 utter, Hartley," replied Mr. Preston >to this, his 
 whole manner changing. " No no. I have not 
 misunderstood you I have not thought so poorly 
 of you. I would have been greatly surprised and 
 disappointed indeed, if any son of Mr. Stevens had 
 proved so lost to honor and conscience as to take 
 advantage of such an opportunity as now offers 
 itself. I shall, with pleasure, communicate the 
 fact to your father. It will do him good to hear 
 it." 
 
 Hartley went back to his work with feelings that 
 might well be envied. The happiness which comes as 
 the reward of conscious rectitude, is among the purest 
 and most delightful emotions that the human mind 
 experiences. How blind and foolish are they who 
 rob themselves of this delight in their selfish efforts 
 to attain some coveted good at the expense of honor 
 and virtue ! To an act of this latter kind always
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 succeeds disappointment, pain and regret. The 
 result is as certain as that effect follows cause. 
 
 The last year of Hartley's apprenticeship soon 
 passed away, and he, too, stood among his fellow- 
 men as a man, responsible to society and to heaven 
 for every act he might perform. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Two years after Hartley Avas free, the young men 
 determined to make their long purposed start in the 
 world, as master-printers. Victor, in the five years 
 he had been doing journey work, had saved six hun 
 dred dollars, and Hartley, in two years, had saved 
 three hundred. With this money they furnished a 
 small office, and opened it for work. No articles 
 of co-partnership were drawn up ; no stipulation in 
 regard to a division of profits made. They com 
 menced business as one man, and their joint interest 
 was felt to be a unit rather than a duality. 
 
 The prospects of the two young men, for some 
 time after opening their office, were by no means 
 flattering. It was a dull year for business, and few 
 of the old-established offices were fully employed. 
 Victor, whose organ of hope had not become so 
 largely developed as that of Hartley, finding weeks 
 and months running away without bringing them 
 any thing more than a few odd jobs, the whole re 
 ceipts from which ~-did not pay their boarding and
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 121 
 
 rent, began to grow disheartened ; but Hartley 
 always spoke encouragingly. 
 
 "Never fear but what our time will come," he 
 would say, when Victor desponded. " Every thing 
 must have a beginning. The largest river in the 
 world may be traced back to an insignificant rivu 
 let." 
 
 " But we are not making our expenses," objects- 
 Victor. 
 
 " Remember, six months have not elapsed yet, 
 and we didn't calculate to pay expenses in less than 
 six months. There is a small perceptible increase, 
 and that promises every thing," replies the confident 
 brother. 
 
 Six months go by$ and still the experiment fails 
 to pay, although everything in the ofiice is done by 
 the brothers, with the aid of a small boy. Even 
 Hartley begins to feel serious, though he is far 
 from despondency. An obstruction in his way but 
 quickened his thoughts, and made them active about 
 the means of overcoming the difficulty. There was 
 a certain book of moral precepts which had fallen 
 into the hands of Hartley some years before, and 
 with which he was much pleased and benefitted. 
 Wishing to possess it for a certain purpose, he in 
 quired for it at one or two of the bookstores, with 
 the intention of buying it, but was unable to find a 
 copy. 
 
 " It has been out of print these two years," said 
 one of the booksellers, to whom he applied. " I 
 don't think you will find a copy in Boston." 
 
 Hartley thought about this after leaving the store 
 of the bookseller, and it occurred to him that it
 
 122 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 would be a good book to print. For a day or two 
 his mind kept reverting to this ; and then he went 
 back to the bookseller and suggested the publication 
 of the volume, at the same time offering to print it. 
 The bookseller at first shook his head ; then, after 
 reflection, he said he would think about it, and told 
 Hartley to call in a few days, and if he concluded 
 to get out the book, he should have the printing. 
 
 The decision in the mind of the bookseller was 
 favorable. He determined to print the work, and 
 on the very next day sent for Hartley, and engaged 
 to have it done. With what a hopeful, happy spirit, 
 did the two brothers commence setting the types on 
 this, their first important job ! After getting up a 
 form, Victor worked it off on the press, while Hart 
 ley continued at the case. The edition was twelve 
 hundred copies. In the course of four or five weeks, 
 the sheets, accurately and beautifully printed, and 
 pressed as smooth as glass, were delivered to the 
 bookseller, who expressed himself as very much 
 pleased with the style of workmanship displayed, 
 and said that when he had anything more to do they 
 should certainly have the work. Several small 
 pampblets came in after this, and they were busy 
 for the next few weeks. Then it was dull again. 
 In the midst of this dull time, a man came in and 
 asked them' if they could print large show bills. 
 Hartley replied that they would print anything. 
 If they had not the letter wanted, they would pro 
 vide themselves with it. 
 
 " My printing is of some consequence," said the 
 'man. " I havn't been treated well at the office 
 where it is now done, and am going to take it some-
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 123 
 
 where else. My bills are never less than fifty dol 
 lars a week." 
 
 "What kind of bills are they?" inquired Hart 
 ley. 
 
 " Theatre bills," replied the man. 
 
 " How many do you have done ?" 
 
 " Two hundred large posters, and from three to 
 eight hundred small bills every day. It's a good 
 job for any office, and for young beginners, as you 
 are, will be just the dandy. Of course you will 
 have free admission for all in your office. The work, 
 however, must be done at a pretty low figure, though 
 not so low but that you will make a handsome pro 
 fit." 
 
 Hartley told the man that he would talk with his 
 brother about it, and give him an answer during the 
 day. When the matter was first mentioned to Vic 
 tor, he was a good deal elated. 
 
 " It's the very thing," said he. " I wouldn't ask 
 a better start than the printing for a theatre." 
 
 Hartley did not respond to this very cordially. 
 His countenance, instead of showing an elevated 
 expression, was rather more serious than usual. 
 
 "It's a good chance, I know," he remarked, after 
 musing for some time, " but my mind isn't so clear 
 that we ought to have anything to do with the busi 
 ness." 
 
 "We don't approve of the theatre, of course," 
 was Victor's reply to this. " But, our printing the 
 bills as a simple mechanical operation, doesn't in 
 any way involve us in the responsibility of the mat 
 ter, nor commit us in favor of what we don't ap 
 prove. Were we to make our own full approval of
 
 124 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 everything offered to us as printers the rule in re 
 gard to accepting work, we would soon be com 
 pelled to close our office. I'm very sure that I am 
 far from assenting to the doctrines taught in the 
 pamphlet we printed for Williams. But, the writer 
 and publisher are responsible to society, not we who 
 merely set the types and print the paper. No 
 painter, who stood in need of work, would refuse to 
 execute a piece of scenery for the stage because he 
 did not approve of theatric representations ; nor 
 would a tailor, refuse, on the same ground, to make 
 a particular costume for an actor." 
 
 " So far as that is concerned," said Hartley, 
 " every man must be left free to do as his own 
 sense of right dictates. To the mere printing of 
 the bills, viewed as a simple mechanical operation, 
 I have no objection. But, the fact is, Victor, I 
 don't like the idea of having any kind of association 
 with these men as a class. If we print for them, 
 we will have some of them running in and out here 
 every day. Our apprentice will see and read the 
 bills we print ; and not only this, but will have to 
 carry them to the theatre, where he will meet those 
 connected therewith and be invited to come and see 
 the performances. The man who was here said 
 that all in the office would be entitled to free ad 
 mission. I hardly think it right for us to subject 
 him to such a temptation. Moreover, if work comes 
 in freely, we must take another boy soon, and he 
 will be open to the same evil influences. The fact 
 is. brother Victor, if we are going to have anything 
 to do with printing for the theatre, we may as well
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 125 
 
 give up, at once, all idea of caring for the moral 
 well-being of those under our charge as apprentices." 
 
 " I didn't think of that," was Victor's reply. 
 " If there is the danger you apprehend and I am 
 inclined to think your fears well grounded let us 
 by no means touch the work. Far better for us to 
 close our office and go back to our old position as 
 journeymen." 
 
 " Just my own view. And now for our decision. 
 Shall we or shall we not decline this work?" 
 
 Victor hesitated for some moments before reply 
 ing. 
 
 "I think we had better decline it," he at length 
 said, -in a slightly depressed tone. 
 
 " So do I," was more cheerfully responded by 
 Hartley. " And rely upon it, this seeming loss 
 in the present will be a great gain in the future. 
 Who can touch pitch and not be defiled ? To a 
 moral certainty, if we had taken this theatre print 
 ing it would have been the means of introducing 
 trouble into our office." 
 
 When the Manager of the theatre came for a 
 decision on his application, it was in the negative. 
 He did not seem to be very well pleased, particularly 
 as the young men resorted to none of the too custom 
 ary business subterfuges used in such cases, but 
 simply gave as a reason, that they would prefer not 
 doing the work. 
 
 Six months after this, and at a time when Victor 
 and Hartley Stevens had as much work as they 
 could do, they were told that a young man who 
 went into business a year before they did had failed. 
 On inquiring as to the cause, it was replied
 
 126 THE WAT TO PROSPER. 
 
 " He was ruined by the theatre printing." 
 
 " How so ?" was inquired. 
 
 j|. " The manager lost money by the season, and 
 couldn't pay his bills." 
 
 " How much did he owe the printer ?" 
 
 "Nearly three hundred dollars. He had bor 
 rowed the money on which he commenced business, 
 and the man who loaned it, seeing that he was losing 
 at this rate, sold him out to save himself." 
 
 " Nothing is ever loft," said Hartley to his 
 brother, when they were alone, " by acting from a 
 principle of right. If we had looked only at the 
 money, and cared nothing for the welfare of those 
 who might be employed in our office, we could have 
 secured that printing. But see what would have 
 been the result." 
 
 After they had declined working for the theatre, 
 the brothers got nothing to do of any importance 
 for two or three months, not making their expenses 
 during the time. They often felt gloomy and anx 
 ious, but strove manfully to repress all such emotions, 
 and to look forward hopefully. Not once did either 
 of them regret having declined an offer that promised 
 BO well. The act, upon reflection, met their hearti 
 est approval. 
 
 Work began to flow in again after this dull sea 
 son. They got a large book to print, which occupied 
 them several months, and upon which they made a 
 very good profit, lighter jobs having, in the mean 
 while paid all their expenses. From this time they 
 experienced more steady, favoring breezes. 
 
 Three years went by, with its ups and downs, its 
 seasons of encouragement and discouragement, and
 
 THE WAY TO PEOSPER. 
 
 the two brothers found themselves with about three 
 hundred dollars in money saved from work, besides 
 an office much increased in value beyond its original 
 standard. With this money, after carefully con 
 sidering the matter, they determined to print, a 
 certain book, of which there were no copies in the 
 market, and sell the whole edition, when ready, to 
 some publisher, or, in default of finding any one 
 willing to take it off of their hands, to publish it 
 themselves and wait until it went off under the 
 regular demand that might arise. The latter expe 
 dient they found necessary, and the book appeared. 
 Its typography was good, considering the state of 
 the art at the time, and as they distributed it freely 
 to editors in the larger cities, it received such fa 
 vorable notices fronf the press, as to induce book 
 sellers to order it freely. In less than a year, not 
 a copy of the edition remained on their hands. In 
 the meantime they had issued another book, which 
 met with a like good reception, and were now en 
 gaged upon a third. But in these operations it was 
 a fixed rule not to incur debt, nor attempt to go 
 faster than healthy openings in the market warran 
 ted. The system of driving business to an extent 
 involving danger, was not a part of their policy. 
 Their motto was "No such word as fail!" and, 
 therefore, no step was taken without prudence and 
 forethought. This was the secret of their safe 
 progression. 
 
 11 
 
 :
 
 128 THE WAT TO PROSPER. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 AFTER Thomas became free, he continued in the 
 employment of his old master, earning good wages, 
 and spending no money that was not required to 
 meet his ordinary wants. He had been out of his 
 time three years, and had saved up a few hundred 
 dollars, when his father, whose circumstances had 
 yearly improved, said to him, on the occasion of a 
 visit to the old homestead 
 
 " How much money have^^fcu laid by, my son ?" 
 "Five hundred dollars," replied Thomas. 
 " Five hundred. That is doing very well. Isn't 
 it's most time for you to think of making a start 
 for yourself? Victor and Hartley are doing very 
 well. It was dull with them at first, as it is with 
 all new beginners ; and it will be dull with you for 
 a season. You are now twenty-four, and by the 
 time you are twenty-six you ought to be fairly un 
 der way. How much will an office large enough to 
 do a pretty fair range of work cost?" 
 
 "The office of Victor and Hartley cost nine hun 
 dred at the beginning." 
 "Was it large enough?" 
 " Oh, yes. But I have only five hundred." 
 " No matter. I can help you a little." 
 Thomas did not appear as much gratified by this 
 offer as Mr. Stevens had expected.
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 129 
 
 "I hardly know what to say," replied the young 
 man, in evident perplexity of mind. 
 
 "What is in the way?" inquired the father. 
 " Are you timid about the matter ?" 
 
 " Oh, no. I am not in doubt as to the result. 
 I know very well that I shall succeed, whenever I 
 go into business." 
 
 " Then why not go now? The way is open. I 
 can spare you three or four hundred dollars with 
 out feeling it; or even more, if necessary." 
 
 " The fact is, father," said Thomas, in reply to 
 this " There is but one objection, and that trou 
 bles me whenever I think of it. If my trade were 
 any other than that of a printer, I would not hesi 
 tate a moment. But my brothers are only now 
 beginning to do well, and I cannot bear the thought 
 of seeming to enter into rivalry with them. If I 
 established an office, some work that would, other 
 wise, go to them, will come to me ; and it might 
 create an unpleasant feeling. I know of just such 
 work. There is one bookseller who superintends 
 the Sabbath School in which I am teacher, who has 
 said to me that whenever I went into business, I 
 might calculate on a good share of his work ; and 
 it all goes now to the office of Victor and Hartley." 
 
 " There is something in that," replied Mr. Ste 
 vens, thoughtfully. " Still you are a man, and the 
 world is wide enough for you all. You cannot 
 forego seeking your own temporal well-being in a 
 right and orderly way, for fear that doing so will 
 interfere with your brothers. I am certain that 
 neither Victor nor Hartjby will feel unkindly about 
 
 12
 
 130 THE WAT TO PROSPER. 
 
 it. In fact they would have no right to do so. 
 They went into business, and you have the same 
 privilege." 
 
 Thomas assented to all this ; and yet his mind 
 remained in doubt. He shrunk back from " the 
 very appearance of evil." 
 
 "Suppose you talk with them about it?" sug 
 gested Mr. Stevens. 
 
 " They would, of course, give their consent, no 
 matter how they might feel," replied Thomas, 
 " and that wouldn't, in the least, take away my ob 
 jection." 
 
 " Oh no, my son. They are not so unreasonable 
 as all that. Their own good sense and good feel 
 ing would produce better impressions. My own 
 opinion is, that the fact of your speaking to them 
 on the subject, will make all as plain before you as 
 you can desire. They will see what is in your 
 mind, and appreciate the delicacy and goodwill 
 that prompts you to speak of it." 
 
 On reflection, Thomas concluded to act upon his 
 father's advice. On returning to the city, he went 
 to his brother's office. He found Victor alone, and 
 introduced the subject by saying, without any pre 
 liminaries, whatever 
 
 " Brother Victor, I have five hundred dollars laid 
 up, and father says, that if I wish to go into busi 
 ness, he will lend me as much more as will be 
 wanted to furnish a small office." 
 
 Victor looked more pleased than surprised at 
 this. 
 
 "And so you wish to go into business ?" said he.
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 131 
 
 " I have been saving my money for that purpose," 
 replied Thomas. " I don't want to be a journey 
 man all my life." 
 
 " Of course not. There are plenty who are con 
 tent to plod along ; plenty who are thriftless and 
 idle ; plenty who had rather spend their money in 
 useless self-indulgence, than save it for the purpose 
 of going into business and rising in the world. 
 There is room enough for the industrious and enter 
 prising, Thomas." 
 
 "So I think," replied the brother. " But, there 
 is one thing about the matter that rather troubles 
 my mind. I spoke to father about it, and he said 
 I'd better mention it to you." 
 
 " Well, what is it, Thomas?" 
 
 " The fear that my going into business might ap 
 pear like rivalry to you. Some work that you now 
 get, I may receive. I have no wish to tear you 
 down in the effort to build myself up." 
 
 " We know that, Thomas," replied Victor. "Were 
 you to take an office next door to us, we should not 
 have even the imagination of such a thing." 
 
 " How do you think Hartley will feel about it ?" 
 asked Thomas. 
 
 " Come round to-morrow and I will answer that 
 question," said Victor smiling. 
 
 In the morning Thomas came round. 
 
 "Have you talked with brother Hartley'/" he 
 inquired. 
 
 " I have," said Victor. 
 
 " What does he say ?" 
 
 " He doesn't like the idea of your going into 
 business," replied Victor, gravely. 
 11*
 
 132 THE WAT TO PROSPER. 
 
 The countenance of Thomas fell. 
 
 "He thinks," continued Victor, "that it would 
 be much better for all concerned, if you would put 
 what money yon have into our business, and go in 
 as a partner. And I think so, too. In union there 
 is strength, Thomas." 
 
 The cloud which came over the young man's 
 countenance was instantly dispersed, and a gleam 
 of light flashed over it. 
 
 " I did not expect this," said he, with manifest 
 satisfaction. 
 
 " Though we have thought and spoke of it often," 
 replied Victor. " We are willing to work, and can 
 mutually trust each other. That is a great deal. 
 Our business is rapidly on the increase, and we 
 want all the intelligent and interested assistance 
 you can bring. Your money will enable us to get 
 out a new book, which we have just received from 
 England, upon which we shall clear a handsome 
 profit, and your aid in the business will enable us to 
 turn more attention to publishing, to which, in a 
 few years, we will no doubt find it our interest to 
 entirely limit ourselves. The profit, you know, is 
 double. We get returns both as printers and 
 publishers." 
 
 " When shall this arrangement go into effect ?" 
 said Thomas, after expressing, warmly, his delight 
 at the unexpected proposition. 
 
 "Immediately," replied Victor 
 
 " I'll finish my week's work, and join you on 
 Monday." 
 
 " That will do. The book I spoke of, we will 
 put in h^nd, and hurry it quickly through the press."
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 183 
 
 
 
 " If you wish to use the five hundred dollars be 
 fore Monday," said Thomas, " I will give you a 
 check for it now." 
 
 "No, we have a Couple of hundred dollars in 
 
 bank. That money we will reserve to pay for the 
 
 i , . -,. r r J 
 
 paper and binding. 
 
 On Monday, as agreed upon, Thomas Stevens 
 joined his brothers in business. 
 
 It would be difficult to say which of the three 
 brothers was most pleased by this arrangement. 
 Thomas showed his gratification more, because he 
 was younger, and the event was so unexpected; 
 but the pleasure he felt was no deeper, nor more 
 real, than that experienced by the two elder bro 
 thers. 
 
 The book, which the money of Thomas enabled 
 the firm to get out, was a large and costly volume ; 
 but it was the new work of a popular author and 
 met a rapid sale. The first edition of fifteen hun 
 dred copies, on which they made a large profit, was 
 exhausted in three months, and a new edition de 
 manded. An edition of two thousand copies was 
 then passed through the press, which was all gone 
 in less than a twelve-month. Six other books were 
 published during the year, on all of which good pro 
 fits were made. 
 
 From that time the increase of business was rapid. 
 A credit with paper makers, binders, and others, to 
 any amount they desired, was open to the brothers, 
 and this enabled them to avail themselves of every 
 good opportunity that offered for getting up books, 
 that promised to have a fair run in the market, and 
 to wait for a return of sales.
 
 134 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 
 _^ 
 
 Three years more of prosperity determined the 
 brothers to make a change in their business. Up 
 to this time they had confined themselves to mere 
 printing and publishing. They now took into 
 serious consideration the establishment of a retail 
 trade in Boston, and finally determined to do so. 
 A handsome store was taken on Washington street, 
 and the entire branch of business placed in the 
 hands of Hartley Stevens, as the one acknowledged 
 to be most competent for its management. From 
 this time book selling, as well as printing and 
 publishing, made a part of the operations of the 
 firm. In order to secure the most perfect efficiency 
 in every branch, Victor had charge of the publish 
 ing department, Hartley of the store, and Thomas 
 of the printing operations ; and each, by daily con 
 ference, was kept fully acquainted with the general 
 state of all the other branches of business. Thus, 
 while each worked in his own department, he saw, 
 all the while, the harmony of his efforts with the 
 rest, and how the whole establishment was moving 
 on as if conducted by a single mind. Such a thing 
 as jarring was not known in any part of this beau 
 tifully working machinery. Mutual confidence, 
 mutual interests, and a mutual deference of opinion, 
 formed a bond of union, and made three men act as 
 one. 
 
 Turning from this picture of brotherly concord 
 and success, let us, for a brief period, contemplate 
 one of an opposite character.
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 135 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 As the sickly season approached, in the summer 
 following the period when Peter Close attained the 
 age of twenty-one years, the young man, with scanty 
 clothing, poor health, and but little money in his 
 pocket, started up the river for Cincinnati. The 
 news of his father's death, which had reached him, 
 added to the trouble, pain, and disappointment he 
 had suffered since the ill-advised step of leaving his 
 master had been taken, and tended greatly to sober 
 his feelings. He made serious resolutions in regard 
 to the future ; determining to keep himself free from 
 all idle and dissolute company, and to make an ef 
 fort to get something ahead. 
 
 On arriving in Cincinnati, he was so fortunate as 
 to obtain immediate employment in the office of a 
 morning paper. But, he found the work exceed 
 ingly trying on his weakened body. Loss of rest 
 and prolonged labor exhausted him so much, that 
 it was with difficulty he could sometimes stand at 
 the case. He persevered, however, for a few months, 
 when an opening occurred in a book office, which 
 he gladly accepted. Here he found permanent 
 work, and made very good wages. By the end of 
 a year, his health was greatly improved, he had a 
 good stock of clothes, and nearly a hundred dollars 
 laid by. During his residence in Cincinnati he had 
 become familiar with the progress of things in the
 
 136 THE WAT TO PROSPER. 
 
 West, and understood something of the advantage 
 a few hundred dollars would be to a young man, if 
 possessed just at the right moment, to enable him 
 to secure some clearly-seen advantage. All around 
 him were struggling in the effort to accumulate pro 
 perty, and he became inspired with the same feeling. 
 Almost daily was rehearsed in his ears the story of 
 gome one, who, not worth a dollar five years before, 
 was now gathering in money by thousands ; and 
 such incidents only inflamed the desire he felt to 
 become better off in the world. 
 
 Of his brothers, Peter Close knew nothing. He 
 had not heard of the escape of William from the 
 House of Refuge, nor of the disposition of Francis 
 after the death of his father. William's conduct 
 had been so disgraceful, that he pushed aside his 
 image whenever it crossed his mind; and, as for 
 Francis, though he thought of him occasionally, it 
 \vas with no disposition to make any sacrifices, nor 
 to give himself any trouble on his account. Fran 
 cis was quite as old as he was when he went from 
 home, and, no doubt, fully as able to take care of 
 himself. Nobody had ever helped him. 
 
 Thus, narrowing down all his views in life to him 
 self, Peter Close continued to work on and save his 
 money, with a view of entering into business at the 
 earliest fitting opportunity. 
 
 One Sunday, it was after he had been in Cincin 
 nati about two years, and when he had saved over 
 two hundred dollars, Peter was strolling along by the 
 river, looking at the steamboats and the people, 
 when, most unexpectedly, he encountered his bro 
 ther William. Both started in surprise. William
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 137 
 
 was first to extend his hand, which Peter could not 
 but grasp and shake. They looked earnestly at 
 each other, while the blood mounted to their faces. 
 
 "This is very unexpected," said Peter, speaking 
 first, though not in a voice of real pleasure. 
 
 " I am sure it is to me," replied William. " I 
 thought you were in Boston." 
 
 ".No ; I've been in Cincinnati over a year." 
 
 " You have ! It's strange we have not met before. 
 
 have been here over a dozen times during that 
 
 riod." 
 
 The appearance of the two brothers presented a 
 strong contrast. Peter was well dressed, and had 
 a genteel air ; but William was coarse and rough 
 both in his features and garments. 
 
 " What are you doing ?" inquired Peter. 
 
 " Trading on the river," replied William. "And 
 are you still at printing ?" 
 
 " Yes ; I'm at the types yet for want of a better 
 business." 
 
 The brothers had been standing on the pavement 
 during this brief interview. Peter now said 
 
 " Come ! Let us go on board of one of these boats, 
 where we will be more to ourselves." 
 
 The two young men went down to the river, and 
 going on to one of the steamers, took a seat on the 
 guards where they could be alone. 
 
 " When did you hear from home ?" asked Wil 
 liam. 
 
 " I have not heard for some time," replied Peter. 
 " I suppose you know of father's death ?" 
 
 " Father dead !" exclaimed William, evincing
 
 138 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 both surprise and emotion. "Is it possible ! I 
 had no idea of that." 
 
 " Oh yes," was calmly answered. " He has been 
 dead for two years and more." 
 
 " Bless me ! I thought he was still living. 
 And Frank what of him ?" 
 
 Peter shook his head. 
 
 " Hav'n't you heard from him ?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 " That's strange." 
 
 " So it is. But I've not been home, and no one 
 has written me a word." 
 
 " Then you don't know what has become of the 
 old place ? Father must have left some property 
 when he died." 
 
 "Not much, I fancy. He let things go so sadly to 
 wreck and ruin towards the end. But no matter 
 what he left, uncle Ned has taken good care of it, 
 I'll warrant." 
 
 " Though not for our benefit." 
 
 " Oh, no. He has no weaknesses of that kind. 
 Whatever goes into his hands, stays there. I only 
 hope he's taken proper care of Frank." 
 
 " I'll warrant he's pushed him adrift long ago. 
 He's one of the most selfish, heartless men I ever 
 knew. At least, that is my reading of his charac 
 ter. I wouldn't trust him alone in the room with 
 his dead grandmother, if there were half dollars on 
 her eyes to keep^ll^m closed." 
 
 " Your judgment does not wrong him very greatly 
 I presume," replied Peter. " But let him go his 
 I never wish to see him." 
 
 " I would like to hear from Frank," said William,
 
 1
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 141 
 
 with some interest in his manner. " I hope he has 
 not been sent into the city. It's a dreadful place 
 for an unprotected hoy dreadful ! dreadful !" 
 
 "Though thousands have to take their chance 
 there as we did." 
 
 " And such a chance !" said William, half shud 
 dering, as his mind too vividly sketched some pictures 
 of the past. " Such a chance ! Alone, amid temp 
 tations on every hand, and driven into evil by wrong 
 treatment what hope is there for a boy ? It is 
 small; very small." 
 
 " It is a bad place, I know," responded Peter, 
 realizing in some sense the perceptions of his bro 
 ther's mind. 
 
 " Heaven help Frank, if he be in it !" said Wil 
 liam, with much apparent feeling. 
 
 A silence of some moments followed, during which 
 time the thoughts of neither of the brothers were of 
 the most pleasant kind. 
 
 " How long do you remain here ?" ai&ed Peter. 
 
 " I'm not certain," replied William. " We came 
 down from Portsmouth with a load of flour, which 
 we want to sell here ; and then take in pork, bacon 
 and lard for New Orleans. It may be two or three 
 weeks before we move down the river." 
 
 " You're on a flat boat ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Any interest in it ?" 
 
 " Yes; I own a small share of both the boat and 
 cargo. I manage to make a little every time I go 
 down the river, and thus increase my interest in 
 the business." 
 
 " What is your interest now worth ?" 
 12
 
 142 THE WAT TO PROSPER. 
 
 " About three hundred dollars." 
 
 " Indeed." Peter felt a certain respect for his 
 brother, not previously entertained, forming itself 
 in his mind. 
 
 " How long has it taken you to accumulate this ?" 
 
 " About a year. But in my next trip down the 
 river I hope to double it." 
 
 " You do ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes. All that is wanted to make money in 
 this business, is money to work with. When I had 
 only twenty or thirty dollars ahead, the returns 
 were slow. But now they will come in a little more 
 to my satisfaction. It won't be long, I trust, before 
 I will be able to own an entire boat-load of produce 
 myself, and pocket all the profits." 
 
 Respect for his brother continued to increase in 
 the mind of Peter. 
 
 "Your prospects are far better than mine," he 
 remarked, with a sjightly perceptible disappoint 
 ment in his lone, of voice. " Pve only been able 
 to save up about two hundred dollars. But then 
 I had one very bad year., I took the fever in New 
 Orleans, and the next winter had the inflammatory 
 rheumatism. I came as near dying as I ever wish 
 to be. The fact is, I've not yet fairly recovered 
 from the effect of that sickness, and may never get 
 over it while I live." 
 
 " This delving at a trade is a slow way to get 
 along," remarked William. " A man's wit, en 
 terprise and sagacity, don't help him on in the 
 least. I've no fancy for the thing, and never had." 
 
 The idea that his brother was getting along in 
 the world so much better than himself, oppressed
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 143 
 
 the mind of Peter, and made him feel dissatisfied. 
 He looked serious, and in fact, felt troubled. It 
 glanced along his thoughts, that if there were any 
 thing in deserving success, he certainly deserved to 
 prosper more than his brother. The motions of 
 envy were perceptible in his heart. There arose a 
 wish to share in William's better fortune." 
 
 Nearly the whole of that day was spent together 
 in a mutual relation of adventures since their se 
 paration years before. William spoke of the wrong 
 that had been done him in sending him off to the 
 Refuge for a trifling act, which, if it had been pro 
 perly met by his master, would never have been 
 repeated. He related his sufferings there, and his 
 escape. Since then, he had seen life in some of its 
 worst aspects ; and sickened with the follies into 
 which youth had led him, was now bent on pursuing 
 the read to wealth, and securing gain as the greatest 
 good. 
 
 " I shall not rest," said he, "until Ijown a first- 
 class steamer. Then my fortune is made." 
 
 When Peter separated with his brother at night, 
 he felt more dissatisfied than had been the case for 
 many months. William was making rapid strides 
 in t.he way of prosperity, while he was plodding 
 along, with scarcely a visible progress. On Mon 
 day morning he -went to work less cheerfully than 
 usual. His thoughts were on the things heard 
 from his brother. All his plans for the future were 
 in confusion. The idea of joining some one, who 
 had a little money, in the publication of a news 
 paper in some growing western village this had 
 been a favorite scheme no longer appeared at- 
 13
 
 144 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 tractive. That was too slow a way to accumulate 
 property, when compared with William's more ra 
 pid progress. At the close of the day, he sought 
 his brother, and had further conversation with him, 
 in which he sought rather to gain than impart in 
 formation. William was confident and cheerful, as 
 before, and spoke even more flatteringly of his 
 future prospects. The effect was, still further to 
 unsettle the mind of Peter. 
 
 Thus their intercourse went on from day to day, 
 the effect being the same on Peter. He did not 
 much like the kind of company that was around 
 his brother ; but that was an attendant on the 
 pursuit in which he was engaged ; and he learned 
 to tolerate the apparent necessity. 
 
 "How much money did you say you had," Wil 
 liam asked one day. Two weeks had elapsed since 
 their meeting. " I have forgotten." 
 
 " Something rising of two hundred dollars," re 
 plied Pete 
 
 " Ah ! yes, now I remember. What are you 
 doing with it ?" 
 
 " Nothing. It is in one of the banks." 
 
 " Money should never be idle," said W T illiam. " At 
 least not when there are so many ways of using 
 it profitably." 
 
 " My own opinion. But not hating seen any safe 
 mode of using it to advantage, I have preferred 
 letting it be in safe hands, as it neither eats nor 
 drinks any thing." 
 
 " All very prudent. But, why don't you buy 
 produce and ship it for New Orleans on the boats,
 
 THE WAT TO PROSPEK. 145 
 
 It pays handsomely ; and is without risk, as you 
 can always insure." 
 
 " I know nothing of the business whatever. I 
 would not know what to buy, nor to whom to con 
 sign it." 
 
 " Don't you know any steamboat clerk whom you 
 could trust." 
 
 "No." 
 
 " If you did, you might operate handsomely in 
 that way. A certain percentage for attending to 
 the matter would be all he would ask. Steamboat 
 clerks do a great deal of this kind of business. The 
 owners get the freight and they make a commission 
 on sales in New Orleans." 
 
 "I see." 
 
 " All you want is to make the acquaintance of 
 such a person, and he will advise you what to 
 buy. Or, better still, if you had such a place 
 yourself, you would find it a great deal better than 
 printing. I know some clerks who get a thousand 
 dollars a year, and gather in a thousand or two 
 more in trading and in commissions." 
 
 This conversation completely unhinged the mind 
 of Peter Close ; so much so that his earnings dur 
 ing the week were three dollars less than usual. 
 He could not work with any interest. It seemed 
 a waste of time that might be so much better em 
 ployed. 
 
 At last William mentioned a first-rate chance to 
 
 buy a certain article that always brought a good 
 
 price in New Orleans. A lot was offered at a 
 
 bargain, which he would certainly have taken him- 
 
 12*
 
 146 THE WAT TO PROSPER. 
 
 self, had he not already invested all his money in 
 pork and lard. 
 
 "You can double your money on it," he said to 
 Peter. " I think I can crowd it on to our boat, 
 and will manage the sale for you in New Orleans. 
 When sold, by purchasing groceries, and sending 
 them to this place, a hundred dollars more may be 
 realised. Another successful trip will double your 
 money again ; and then you can throw away your 
 type stick, go upon the river yourself, and manage 
 your own affairs." 
 
 Peter reflected on all this for some time. But 
 the temptation was too great, and he yielded to its 
 allurements. The investment of his two hundred 
 dollars was made, and the goods purchased there 
 with placed in the hands of his brother, who started 
 on the voyage to New Orleans a few days afterwards. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 FOR a week after William's departure, golden 
 dreams haunted the imagination of Peter Close. 
 The first thing now read in the daily papers, was 
 the quotation of prices in New Orleans, and at 
 least once every morning, the amount of profit to be 
 realized upon his shipment, was cyphered out, the 
 price of the article at the place just named, forming 
 the basis of the calculation. A more uneasy and 
 less pleasant feeling supervened. Little doubts
 
 THE WAT TO PKOSPER. 147 
 
 began to spring up. Had he been wise in placing 
 his all in the hands of William, without knowing 
 more of his character. He had talked fair enough 
 so could any one. From Louisville William had 
 promised to write to him, but had neglected doing 
 so. This worried him. A letter from the mouth of 
 the Ohio, somewhat relieved his mind. It was in 
 William's confident and cheerful tone. 
 
 Weeks now went by, and all was silence and 
 doubt. A greater part of every Sunday was spent 
 at the boat landings along the river, in the hope of 
 meeting some one who had seen William on his way 
 down the Mississippi. 
 
 One Sunday, it was nearly six weeks from the 
 time his brother started for New Orleans, Peter 
 made some inquiries about him in the presence of a 
 flat boatman. 
 
 " Who's that ? Bill Close you're talking about ?" 
 asked the man, in a rude, familiar way. 
 
 " Yes," replied Peter ; "Do you know anything 
 about him?" 
 
 "I ought to," said the man. 
 
 "Why so?" 
 
 " He swindled me out of twenty dollars up at 
 Portsmouth, a couple or three months ago. I only 
 want to get my clinchers on him !" The man 
 doubled his huge fist, and set his teeth menacingly 
 together as he spoke. 
 
 "Swindled you?" said Peter, in a rough, whis 
 pering voice. 
 
 " Yes, as clear as a whistle. But I deserved it, 
 for I knew he was the biggest rascal to be found on 
 the river from Pittsburg to New Orleans."
 
 148 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 " Bill Close, you mean," spoke up a bystander, 
 in the rough dress of a boatman. 
 
 "Yes, it was of him that we were speaking," 
 said Peter ; " What do you know of him ?" 
 
 " I know that I wouldn't trust him with a picay 
 une to buy medicine for his sick sister. A greater 
 scamp doesn't walk on two legs. I know him like 
 a book. The way he got it down at Natches-under- 
 the-Hill last summer for some of his operations, was 
 a caution. I didn't expect to see the breath of life 
 left in his miserable body." 
 
 " What did he do there ?" asked Peter. 
 
 " He tried to cheat a flat boatman at cards. The 
 fellow caught him at the work, and almost beat his 
 liver out of him." 
 
 " He gambles, then ?" said Peter. 
 
 " I should think so a regular blackleg in the 
 'bit and picayune line. It is not often that he rises 
 to the dignity of dollars." 
 
 " I heard yesterday," said a new comer, who had 
 joined the little group, and heard a part of the con 
 versation, " that this Bill Close found some one in 
 the city green enough to put two hundred dollars 
 worth of produce in his charge on his last trip down 
 the river." 
 
 " Impossible !" was answered to this ; " no one 
 could be found fool 'enough to do such a thing." 
 
 "If so," said another, "he has proved, ere this, 
 the truth of the .saying, that a fool and his money 
 are soon parted." 
 
 Sundry comments on this were made, all expres 
 sive of surprise, or doubt as to the truth of the 
 Btory.
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 149 
 
 " Two hundred dollars ! Ha ! ha ! A rogue for 
 luck ! I never found any body with two hundred 
 dollars, who was willing to trust it in my hands," 
 was remarked, in a laughing voice, by another of 
 the group. " Won't he have a royal blow out ! 
 By this time he's in the rig of a gentleman, trying 
 his hand in the cabin of some up-river steamer." 
 
 Peter waited to hear no more. Sick at heart, 
 he turned away and went back to his lodgings, with 
 such a pressure of chagrin and disappointment on 
 his feelings, that he could hardly walk steadily in 
 the street. 
 
 All of the next week he was too much troubled to 
 work. He went several times to the office, but it 
 was impossible to bring his mind down to the task 
 of setting types. Almost mad with suspense, he 
 determined to seek after some certainty, and with 
 twenty-five dollars in his pocket, all the money he 
 now possessed, he took passage for New Orleans. 
 On arriving there, he instituted a most careful and 
 thorough search after some trace of his brother. 
 In this he was so far successful as to discover the 
 man to whom his goods had been sold. It did not 
 give him much satisfaction to learn that the sale 
 had been for less than cost and charges. 
 
 Under the faint hope that William might have 
 gone back to Cincinnati, Peter returned up the river. 
 But the hope was vain. His last dollar now ex 
 pended, the unhappy young man found it necessary 
 to go to work again. But his spirits were gone. 
 He had not the same incentive to industry that pre 
 viously existed. His earnings were less than before, 
 and, generally, all expended as he went along. A
 
 .**? '" ' w 
 150 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 feeling of bitter hatred of his brother arose in his 
 mind ; and, there were moments, when, if he had 
 suddenly come in his way, he would have been 
 tempted into personal violence. 
 
 Habits of dissipation followed, and Peter gra 
 dually sunk lower and lower, until he debased him 
 self as a drunkard. Two or three years of such a 
 life were passed, when a long and severe illness, 
 from which he slowly recovered as an inmate of the 
 almshouse, to which he had been sent by the man 
 with whom he boarded, awakened him to serious re 
 flection on his present condition and future pros 
 pects. A resolution to reform was made and kept. 
 He again went to work, a sober man, and, by slow 
 degrees, recovered from the degradation of his fall. 
 A desire to do better in the world, once more quick 
 ened into a purpose in his mind. Small accumula 
 tions began to be made ; and, as these increased from 
 tens to twenties, until he had over a hundred dollars 
 laid up, he became more cheerful and hopeful. 
 Plans for the future began to grow upon him. He 
 once more saw himself the owner of a small printing 
 office and newspaper in a country town. 
 
 At times', his thoughts would go back to the past, 
 and then a bitterness would arise in his heart. No 
 pleasant flowers had grown along his path through 
 life, to bless him now, though faded, with their per 
 fume. As for William, he had neither heard from, 
 nor seen him, since they parted a few years before. 
 He might be dead, for all he knew ; or, in fact, for 
 all he cared. The thought of him aroused angry 
 feelings whenever it flitted through his mind. 
 
 Peter Close was standing at his work one day,
 
 ' 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 151 
 
 thinking of the future, and indulging in some 
 brighter dreams of prosperity than were usually 
 present, when a miserable-looking object, pale, 
 ragged and emaciated, came in, and asked for him. 
 Hearing his name mentioned, Peter turned, with 
 surprise, towards a stranger, who, the moment he 
 saw him, appeared to recognize him, and came 
 quickly to that part of the office where he was 
 standing. Peter examined his face carefully, but 
 saw no trace of a familiar feature. 
 
 " How do you do, Peter ?" said the man, reaching 
 out his hand. " You don't appear to know me," he 
 added. 
 
 " You have the entire advantage of me," said 
 Peter, coldly. 
 
 " Is it possible you don't know me ?" remarked 
 the stranger. 
 
 " I do not." 
 
 " I am your brother Frank !" 
 
 Peter stepped back a pace or two, exclaiming, 
 
 " Impossible !" 
 
 " No wonder, perhaps, that you say so," replied 
 the young man. " For I hardly know myself. 
 Sickness and suffering have changed me dreadfully. 
 I've had a hard time of it, Peter. But I need not 
 tell you that. Look at me !" 
 
 " Where have you come from ?" asked the elder 
 brother, with a coldness of manner that amounted 
 almost to severity. 
 
 " I arrived here as a deck passenger from St. 
 Louis, yesterday. I have been trading and knock 
 ing about through the far West during the last year 
 or two. Six months ago, I started from Santa Fe
 
 %; .. v* -' . f ^ 5r ; v . , * "THc ', 
 
 152 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 for the States, with a snug little lot of furs ; but 
 was robbed and shot on the way by the Indians. 
 More dead than alive I reached St. Louis, where I" 
 lay sick for two or three months. ,To have remained 
 there was as good as to die. I could not help my 
 self, and there was no one to give me even a cup of 
 water. I begged a deck passage this far." 
 
 " Why did you come here ?" asked Peter. 
 
 " I saw William at Fort Independence ; and he 
 said that you were in Cincinnati." 
 
 The brows of Peter contracted. 
 
 " What do you expect ?" he asked, his manner 
 still cold. 
 
 " Nothing !" replied Frank, in a quick voice, 
 while an indignant warmth burned for a moment in 
 his pale, sunken face. As he spoke, he turned away 
 and retired. Peter now noticed, for the first time, 
 that one arm hung powerless by his side, and that 
 he halted in his gait. A more miserable looking 
 object he never remembered to have seen. For a 
 few moments he stood irresolute ; then humanity 
 conquered for there came before his eyes the image 
 of his mother, and an innocent child playing by her 
 side that child was his youngest brother. Hastily 
 drawing on his coat, he followed the retreating form 
 of that brother. 
 
 " Frank," he said, as he gained his side, just as 
 he had stepped into the street. 
 
 But his brother seemed not to hear him. 
 
 " Frank," he repeated. " What do you wish me 
 to do for you?" 
 
 " Nothing ! Nothing !" replied the young man, 
 neither pausing nor looking round.
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 153 
 
 " If you are sick and destitute, of course I will 
 help you," said Peter. 
 
 " Will you ?" returned Frank, still moving along, 
 though with apparent difficulty. 
 
 " Certainly I will. Have you lodging ?" 
 
 "Nor any better clothes than these you have 
 on?" 
 
 "You see all that there is of me." 
 
 " Then I will find you a lodging place, and provide 
 you with better clothes," said Peter. "Your un 
 expected appearance in such a distressed condition, 
 could not but take me by surprise. Moreover, 
 the mention of William's name was, by no means, 
 pleasant. I suppose he said nothing of the way in 
 which he had swindled me out of two hundred dol 
 lars, and ruined my prospects for life." 
 
 " Did he do that?" remarked Frank, quickly. 
 
 " He did; and I'll never forgive him," said Peter, 
 with much bitterness. 
 
 "I'm sorry," returned Frank, in a voice of sin 
 cere regret, pausing, as he spoke, and looking his 
 elder brother once more in the face. "I didn't 
 like what little I saw of him ; but I thought better 
 of him than that." 
 
 " From all I can learn, he is a most consummate 
 scoundrel," said Peter, with bitter emphasis. " But 
 come ; let us find you a lodging place. First, how 
 ever, you must have some better clothes. We will 
 step into this store." 
 
 The young man hesitated, as his brother made a 
 movement to enter a shop they were about passing, 
 saying, as he did so, in a sad voice 
 ,13
 
 154 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 " I don't wish to be a burden to you, Peter. I'm 
 all knocked to pieces, and not able to keep myself. 
 Perhaps, I'd better get an order to go to the Alms- 
 house, and stay there until I pick up again, or die." 
 
 There was something about the way in which this 
 was said, that touched the heart of Peter Close, 
 cold and selfish as it was. 
 
 "It isn't worth while to talk in that way, Frank," 
 said he, in reply. I'm willing to help you the little 
 that's in my power. If it hadn't been for William, 
 I would now be worth some thousands of dollars. 
 As it is, I'm little more than even with the world. 
 But I'm a great deal better off than you are. So 
 come along." 
 
 Frank yielded, though there was an evident re 
 luctance in his manner. He had fondly hoped for 
 a different reception ; and the disappointment of a 
 first repulse created so strong a reaction in his feel 
 ings, that he felt a degree of self-abandonment, from 
 which it was almost impossible to recover. In a 
 little while, however, he became interested in the 
 matter of purchasing some better clothing. At an 
 expense of nearly twenty dollars, Peter fitted him 
 out in a coarse suit, including a hat, shoes, shirts 
 and stockings ; all of which were put on in the 
 dressing room of the store, the old rags he had 
 taken off, rolled into a bundle and thrown into the 
 street. 
 
 Peter could not help feeling satisfaction, as he 
 looked at his brother's improved appearance, and 
 saw the grateful expression of his face. 
 
 " What's the matter with your arm ?" he asked,
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 155 
 
 observing more closely the limb, noticed as para 
 lyzed while trying on a coat. 
 
 " It was shattered by a rifle ball, at the elbow, 
 in a fight with the Indians, and as there was no 
 doctor to be had, I lost the use of it. It was 
 dreadfully swelled and inflamed for some weeks, 
 and pained me awfully. I thought it was going to 
 mortify." 
 
 " Can't you move it at all ?" 
 
 " No. It's all shrunk up. A doctor in St. Louis 
 said it was completely paralyzed, and would never 
 be of any use to me." 
 
 " That's bad, indeed." 
 
 " I know it is ; very bad. I've wished a good 
 many times, since, that I'd been killed outright." 
 
 From the clothing store, Peter took his brother 
 to a boarding house, where he left him, promising to 
 come round and see him in the evening. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 WHEN Peter Close went back to the printing office, 
 and reflected upon what had just transpired, he did 
 not feel very comfortable. In all probability, his 
 unfortunate brother would be an expense to him for 
 months, and not only prevent him from saving any 
 thing more, but actually draw upon the little fund 
 already accumulated. He could not see him want ; 
 and there was but little prospect of his being soon 
 able to help himself. In the disappointment he ex- 
 H
 
 156 THE WAT TO PROSPER. 
 
 perienced, there arose a latent wish in his heart, 
 that it had been with Frank as the unhappy young 
 man had himself wished ; in other words, that he 
 had been killed by the Indians outright ! In the 
 evening he called to see his brother, who related to 
 him his history since the death of his father. It 
 was a painful history in every part. Not a gleam 
 of bright sunshine seemed to have been thrown 
 across his pathway, at any point of his progress. 
 Thrust away from home, while his eyes were still 
 wet with tears for the death of his only parent and 
 friend, he found harshness and repulsion at every 
 turn. Ill treatment drove him from under the roof 
 of his master, and since that time he had been a 
 wanderer on the face of the earth. 
 
 "I have done much evil," he said, in concluding 
 his narrative ; " yet I have had many good desires. 
 It would have been very different with me, had 
 there been any one in Boston to whom I could have 
 looked for protection and counsel. If you had only 
 been there! Oh! how often I used to wish "for 
 that. I would never have left my place, unkindly 
 as I was treated, had you been near me. That 
 was my first and greatest error. But I was all 
 alone, and badly advised. I felt deserted, and 
 became reckless." 
 
 " What has become of the Stevenses ?" asked 
 Peter, after remaining silent for some time. "Were 
 they in business when you left ?" 
 
 " Victor and Hartley Stevens ? Oh yes ! And 
 getting on wonderfully." 
 
 Peter sighed. Thoughts of the past came crowd 
 ing upon him, and he strove in vain to thrust them
 
 THE WAT TO PROSPER. 157 
 
 from his mind. When he went back to his boarding 
 house he found a printer there from Boston. The 
 reference which had been made to the Stevenses, 
 created an interest to know more of them. 
 
 " How are the Stevenses doing ?" he asked, while 
 conversing with this man. 
 
 " Doing well, of course." 
 
 " They publish a good deal ?" 
 
 " They now devote themselves almost exclusively 
 to publishing books." 
 
 "Ah?" 
 
 " Yes, and are making money fast. Their es 
 tablishment is a very large one, including one of 
 the handsomest book stores in Boston. They em 
 ploy nearly a hundred persons." 
 
 " I had no idea of that. What has become of 
 Thomas?" 
 
 " He's in the business." 
 
 " Not as a partner ?" 
 
 "Oh, yes." 
 
 " You surprise me. Victor and I were old school 
 mates. I knew the whole family well." 
 
 " They present a rare instance of fraternal con 
 cord. It is said they never disagree even in the 
 smallest matters. I worked in their office for two 
 years, and I am sure I never saw any thing of the 
 kind. If all brothers would have the same mutual 
 regard that the Stevenses have shown," continued 
 the man, " it would be far better for them. But, 
 in too many instances, they separate with a kind of 
 instinctive antipathy, and each takes his own way, 
 indifferent to the other's welfare. Victor Stevens, 
 by his unselfish regard for those who came after him 
 13*
 
 158 THE WAT TO PROSPER. 
 
 in the path of life, made their way smoother ; and, 
 he will lose nothing in the end, but, rather be the 
 gainer, even in worldly goods, to say nothing of the 
 delight he must experience whenever a thought 
 connects the past with the present." 
 
 To hear of the prosperity of these old friends 
 of his early years was any thing but pleasant to 
 the feelings of Peter Close. The difference between 
 their condition and that of his own family was too 
 great ; and, moreover, in his own selfishness, im 
 providence, and want of early regard for his younger 
 brothers, lay the cause of this difference. The same 
 way to success in life had been open to his feet, had 
 he but chosen to walk in it. He had sown bad 
 seed in his field, and now he was reaping the un 
 profitable harvest. 
 
 When Peter Close retired to his room that night, 
 he was more unhappy than he had been for a long 
 time. The wealth of the Stevenses, and their 
 bright prospects in life, contrasted so strongly with 
 his poverty and gloomy prospects, that he was op 
 pressed with a sense of hopelessness. He tossed 
 and turned upon his pillow for half the night, un 
 able to sleep, while images, that he in vain sought 
 to thrust aside, intruded themselves and took sole 
 possession of his mind. The falling back of his 
 helpless brother upon him, just at this time, was 
 most unfortunate. He felt it as a burden that was 
 to press him down, and keep him to the earth. 
 
 On the next day, Frank did not come around to 
 the office, as he had promised to do. In the even 
 ing Peter went to see him, and found him sick. 
 JJe had fever and complained of a violent pain in
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 159 
 
 his back and head. A doctor of course had to be 
 called. Peter thought more of the additional ex 
 pense than of the illness of his brother. It was 
 three days before the character of the disease fully 
 showed itself. Then the doctor said it was small 
 pox. Peter fled the chamber in consternation, and 
 left the young man to his fate. The case was im 
 mediately reported to the city authorities, who 
 ordered the patient's removal to the hospital. 
 
 There was a secret wish in the heart of the bro 
 ther that Frank might never leave the sick ward, 
 unless when carried forth for burial. But it proved 
 not so. The disease run its course, marring his 
 already disfigured countenance still more ; and then 
 he came out again among his fellow men, helpless 
 almost as a child, both in body and mind. Peter 
 could not turn wholly away from his brother. Some 
 remains of human feeling forbade this. For months 
 he paid his board, and supplied him with little arti 
 cles necessary to his comfort. But, it was all felt 
 as a serious burden ; and, such it really was, for it 
 took from Peter the very money he wished to save 
 as the basis of a future business. 
 
 In more external comfort than he had enjoyed 
 for a long time, a healthy change took place in the 
 system of Francis Close. Strength came back to 
 his muscles ; and, though one arm remained para 
 lyzed, he was able to use the other, and willing to 
 work at anything that might offer. But, there are 
 not many employments into which a man with only 
 one hand can enter. The difficulty, therefore, was 
 to get work. After trying for some time, he suc 
 ceeded in getting a place in a store as a porter to
 
 160 TH'jI WAY TO FEOSPETl. 
 
 carry home light articles, and to do anything else 
 that was within his ability. For this he was to re 
 ceive four dollars a week. With a feeling of sincere 
 pleasure did he inform Peter of his good fortune. 
 
 "I will be a burden on you no longer," said he, 
 " and what is better, will be able, I hope, to return 
 the money you have expended for me, ere many 
 months pass away." 
 
 The young man was sincere in this. He had a 
 natural independence of feeling, and the fact of 
 having to lean on his brother, more particularly as 
 the weight was felt to be a burden, troubled him. 
 
 Francis Close had been in his new place about a 
 month, and was giving good satisfaction, when, on 
 going on an errand one day, he unexpectedly met 
 a man to whom he owed seventy dollars. The debt 
 had been contracted in another city ; and he was 
 not aware that his creditor was a resident of Cin 
 cinnati. The man was, of course, very glad to see 
 him, for hope of getting his money was awakened 
 thereby. 
 
 " What are you doing here ?" was the man's 
 natural inquiry. 
 
 Frank related, in the hope of exciting sympathy, 
 all he had suffered, and showed the crippled state 
 in which he was left. But the man thought only of 
 his money. 
 
 "How long have you been here?" was next 
 asked. 
 
 "Three or four months." 
 
 " Have you any friends in the city ?" 
 
 " I have a brother here." 
 
 " What is he doing ?"
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 161 
 
 " He's a printer." 
 
 " A journeyman ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 . " What does he earn a week ?" 
 
 " Eight or nine dollars." 
 
 "Well, don't you think you can do something 
 for me ?" said the creditor. 
 
 " Not now. I only get four doliars a week, and 
 it costs me three for boarding and washing." 
 
 " When can you begin to pay me something on 
 that old debt ? Remember, it has been standing 
 for a long time now." 
 
 " I'm sure I cannot tell. But, I will let you 
 have money as quickly as it is possible for me to do 
 so." 
 
 "I can't wait a great deal longer," said the man, 
 with some severity of tone. " You deceived me, 
 at first, in regard to your ability to pay." 
 
 " I certainly did not mean to do so." 
 
 " Appearances are Against you ; that's all I have 
 to say about it." 
 
 They separated, and the unfortunate young man 
 was deeply troubled. In about a week the creditor 
 called at the place where he was employed, and 
 proposed that Frank should give him an order on 
 the store-keeper for a dollar a week of his wages. 
 
 " I can't do that. How am I to live on three 
 dollars a week ?" was the natural reply. 
 
 " That's all it costs you for board and washing, 
 according to your own showing." 
 
 " But I have other expenses. I must have clothes 
 to wear."
 
 162 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 " Then I am to understand that you won't do it?" 
 
 " I can't do it. You ask more than it is in my 
 power to give. Find me employment at increased 
 wages, and you shall have an order, weekly, for all 
 above four dollars. But on less than that sum I 
 cannot live. If I go in rags I cannot retain my 
 place." 
 
 The man affected to be very indignant at all this, 
 and turned away, saying as he did so, that he would 
 find a way to make the money come. 
 
 On the next morning a warrant was served upon 
 Frank, and he was compelled to appear before a 
 magistrate, to answer for a debt of seventy dollars. 
 He attempted no defence, and, of course, judgment 
 went against him. 
 
 "What shall be done in the case?" asked the 
 magistrate, turning to the prosecutor. 
 
 " He must find security," was answered. 
 
 " Can you give security for the payment of this 
 debt ?" inquired the legal functionary. 
 
 Frank shook his head. 
 
 " His brother will be satisfactory," said the cre 
 ditor. 
 
 " I shall not ask him," replied Frank, in a firm, 
 indignant voice. " It's no debt of his." 
 
 " You can issue a execution," said the prose 
 cutor. 
 
 The execution was filled out. 
 
 " What will you take ?" asked the magistrate. 
 
 " His body." 
 
 " Then you wish a commitment ?" 
 
 " Certainly."
 
 THE WAY TO PKOSPER. 103 
 
 The commitment was made out, placed in the 
 hands of an officer, and the body of Francis Close 
 removed to prison. 
 
 The man at whose instance this was done, left 
 the magistrate's office and went in search of Peter 
 Close. On finding him, he said 
 
 " Your brother's in trouble." 
 
 " What's the matter ?" inquired Peter, with a look 
 of alarm. 
 
 " He's in jail." 
 
 "In jail!" 
 
 Peter leaned heavily on the case at which he was 
 Standing. 
 
 " Yes, and he wishes to see you." 
 
 " In jail ! Why is he there ?" 
 
 " For debt." 
 
 " He owes nothing." 
 
 " Beg your pardon ! He owes a man, who has 
 just found him out, an old debt of seventy dollars." 
 
 " Contracted here ?" 
 
 " No, in Pittsburg." 
 
 " He has nothing. How does he expect to get 
 it by putting him in jail ?" 
 
 " That's his business," was rudely answered. 
 " I merely come to tell you. Good morning." 
 
 " Oh dear !" murmured Peter, as he hastily drew 
 on his coat, " where is all this to end ? I'd better 
 have a mill-stone around my neck at once !" 
 
 On arriving at the prison, he found his brother 
 in the debtor's apartment, into which he was per 
 mitted to enter, sitting on a bench, with his face 
 buried in his hands. The attitude of deep dejection 
 touched his feelings,
 
 164 THE WAY TO PKOSPER. 
 
 "Frank!" he said, kindly. 
 
 The young man started suddenly to his feet. 
 
 "You here !" he said. "I didn't expect to see 
 you." 
 
 " I was sent for." 
 
 " Not by me." 
 
 " The man who called said you had sent for me." 
 
 Frank shook his head and replied 
 
 " No, I did not send for you, nor purpose, doing 
 so. You've had trouble and expense enough on my 
 account already. I wish I was dead ! Go back to 
 your work, and let me remain here." 
 
 " How much is the debt?" asked Peter. 
 
 " No matter. It's more than I can pay. I shall 
 be as well here as any where else. Go back, Peter, 
 and leave me to my fate." 
 
 " What magistrate committed you?" 
 
 " It's of no consequence for you to know. Just 
 go back to your office, will you ? He'll get tired 
 of keeping me here, when he finds that it will do 
 no good." 
 
 Peter stood irresolute for some moments. He 
 then retired, and gained from the jailer all the in 
 formation he wished. To let Frank remain in 
 prison was not to be thought of for a moment, while 
 he could be released by his going security for the 
 debt. This security was tendered and accepted, 
 and a release sent back to the prison. In less than 
 an hour from the time the iron hinges turned heavily 
 for the admission of the debtor, they turned again 
 for his release and he went back to his employ 
 ment. " Of course, I shall have it to pay," was 
 the thought of Peter's mind, as he returned to his
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 167 
 
 work ; and, with that thought, came so discouraged 
 a feeling that he lost heart once more. When he 
 took the composing stick in his hand, and turned 
 his eye upon the copy before him, it was with such 
 an entire want of interest in his work, th'at, after 
 setting a flew lines, he threw down his stick, and 
 putting on his hat and coat, left the office. After 
 wandering, unhappy and irresolute, about the street 
 for some time, he entered a tavern and called for a 
 glass of brandy. Entire abstinence from intoxicat 
 ing drink had been his habit for some years. Of 
 course, the fiery draught inflamed his old desire, 
 and he went home to his boarding house that night 
 so badly intoxicated, that he could scarcely find his 
 way to bed. 
 
 On the next morning, he awoke in a most wretched 
 state of mind. The more he reflected, the more 
 desperate did he feel. Every thing seemed to frown 
 upon him. From the thought of going to work, his 
 mind turned with an unpleasant feeling. It was 
 nearly ten o'clock, before he left his room. He 
 then went to a tavern, and commenced drinking 
 again. A week of dissipation, during which time 
 he squandered about twenty dollars, made him sick, 
 and he was confined to the house for ten days. As 
 soon as he was able to get abroad again, without 
 mentioning his intention to any one, or even seeing 
 his brother, he left the city for St. Louis. There 
 he led an intemperate life for a couple of years, 
 when he once more paused^irJ'his downward course, 
 abandoned his vile habitf-f^and associates, and en 
 deavored again to raisj^Gim'self in the world by in 
 dustry and prudence.*' 
 
 14
 
 163 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE reader cannot but feel an interest in the 
 excellent Mrs. Redmond and her family. What 
 concerns them is briefly told. Between Anna Red 
 mond and Victor Stevens, it was but natural that a 
 feeling beyond that of mere friendship should arise. 
 A tenderer emotion found its way into both theii 
 hearts ; and, but for a mysterious dispensation of 
 Providence, which caused a lovely human flower 
 to droop and die, in the spring time of its beauty 
 o.nd fragrance, they would have been joined in a 
 holier bond than ever existed. Long and sincerely 
 did Victor mourn the loss of one whose image never 
 arose in his mind without the inspiration of higher 
 and better purposes. While a weary traveller, she 
 had been to him as a pleasant spring and a cooling 
 shadow by the way-side. Her memory, as years 
 passed on, came to him as the memory of a long 
 departed sister ; and it is cherished now with an un 
 dying tenderness, and mingles undisturbingly with 
 a deeper and different love. William Redmond is 
 a merchant in good business, indebted for his ad 
 vancement to the substantial aid of his old and still 
 true friends, Victor and Hartley Stevens. Mrs. 
 Redmond has passed the bourne from which no 
 traveller returns. But she lived to gather a sweet 
 reward for the genuine kindness she extended to a
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 169 
 
 lonely apprentice boy, who was without a friend m 
 the great city. 
 
 From the time Thomas Stevens came into the 
 business, as has been seen, the upward movement 
 of the establishment was more certain and rapid. 
 The opening of a bookstore on Washington street, 
 gave the firm all the advantages in the trade that 
 had been anticipated. Booksellers as well as pub 
 lishers, their business connexions in Southern cities, 
 and with towns throughout the New England States, 
 became wider, and the avenues for the sale of their 
 own books more extended. In these enlarged 
 operations, there was, of course, an increased risk, 
 and a necessity for the coolest judgment and most 
 far-seeing business intelligence. One mind had, 
 therefore, to exercise a most earnest discrimination ; 
 and that mind, developed by circumstances for this 
 important use, was the mind of Hartley, the second 
 brother. Victor's mind had a greater motive power 
 than that of Hartley. It was quick to decide upon 
 a question, and ardent in the pursuit of a purpose. 
 But Hartley looked deeper into all the collateral 
 relations of a thing, and never decided upon a 
 course of action until he saw clearly the ultimate 
 effect. 
 
 It was this acknowledged peculiarity in the mind 
 of Hartley that caused his brothers to place him in 
 the responsible position that he held. They knew 
 that they could confide in his judgment. Thus, 
 Hartley's intelligence in business matters became, 
 as it were, the balance-wheel of the whole concern. 
 Had Victor, in entering the world, cared only for 
 himself and sought only his own advantage, the 
 
 15
 
 170 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 chances of final success would have been doubtful. 
 Up to a certain point he would have gone on pros 
 perously, but in complicating a large business, he 
 would most probably have committed fatal mistakes. 
 But, as it was, the particular abilities and intelligence 
 of the three brothers, fixed upon the three separate 
 departments of one business for which the mind of 
 each had a particular fitness, made all go on with 
 harmony and safety. In the union of their intel 
 ligence, as well as their efforts, consisted their 
 strength. Entering the world separately, each 
 might have failed of success ; entering it together, 
 they were able to overcome all difficulties. 
 
 Mr. Victor Stevens was sitting, one day, in the 
 back part of the store, alone, when a man, poorly 
 clad, and with a slow step, and rather dejected air, 
 opened the door and entered. Mr. Stevens fixed 
 his eyes on him a moment, and then, not recogniz 
 ing him, said 
 
 " Good morning, sir." 
 " Good morning," returned the man. 
 There was a pause, and they looked at each 
 other. 
 
 " Do you want a journeyman ?" asked the man. 
 " The foreman of the office will tell you." 
 The man lingered a short time, looking earnestly 
 at Mr. Stevens. As he partly turned away he 
 said 
 
 " You don-'t know me ?" 
 
 " I do not. And yet there is something familiar 
 in your face," replied Mr. Stevens, regarding the 
 stranger more carefully than at first. 
 " My name is Peter Close."
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 171 
 
 "Peter Close! Is it possible!" Mr. Stevens 
 arose quickly, and extended his hand to the old 
 friend of his boyhood. Then reaching him a chair, 
 he said " Sit down sit down. I am glad to meet 
 you again. Though sorry to find you no better off, 
 if, indeed, so well, as when you started in the 
 world." 
 
 " I have not done so well as you, certainly," re 
 plied Peter. " And, I suppose, the fault lies at my 
 own door." 
 
 " Where have you been these many years !" 
 
 "In the South and West, working at my trade." 
 
 "What has become of your brothers, William 
 and Frank?" 
 
 " They're both dead." 
 
 "Dead! Is it possible ?" 
 
 " Yes. William was shot, away off in the In 
 dian country, last spring ; so I heard. Frank died 
 a year ago in the Cincinnati prison." 
 
 "In prison ?" 
 
 " Yes. Poor fellow ! He was in jail for debt 
 when the Cholera visited the West, and was one of 
 its first victims." 
 
 " Indeed ! How sad !" Mr. Stevens was grieved 
 at this intelligence. 
 
 Just then, an old man, walking with a firm step, 
 passed through the counting-room.- Peter looked 
 at him earnestly. As he retired through the door, 
 he said 
 
 " That is your father ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " How well he looks. Does he live here in the 
 city ?" 
 
 14'
 
 172 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 
 
 " No. He is still on the old homestead." 
 
 " And your mother ?" 
 
 " She is there also." 
 
 The man sighed, and casting his eyes upon the 
 floor, mused .for some time in silence. He was 
 thinking of his own home of his father and mother, 
 and the brothers who were once gathered with him 
 beneath the humble roof. 
 
 " And I remain, of all my kindred, the last fading 
 leaf on a withered bough," said he, with visible emo 
 tion. " Your brothers are partners with you in 
 this business ?" he resumed, after a pause. 
 
 " Yes. We are all together." 
 
 " Mutually sustaining each other?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " And mine, after dragging me down in my efforts 
 to rise, and keeping me at the foot of the ladder, 
 until hope and energy were gone, are dead. Ah 
 me ! What a contrast ! And yet, Victor, when we 
 came to Boston as boys, our chances were equal. I 
 have often thought, of late years, about what you 
 said in regard to brothers helping each other ; and 
 especially the duty of an elder brother. Had I 
 acted towards William as you did towards Hartley, 
 how different might have been his fate ! and how 
 different might his actions have affected me ! And 
 poor Frank ! When he came to the city, there was 
 no one to look after nor care for him. He had a 
 hard time as a boy, and a harder time still as a man. 
 But he is at rest now ! Ah ! How painfully these 
 things come back upon me ! Victor Stevens ! you 
 have your reward and I have mine ! But how dif 
 ferent are these rewards ! What a man soweth,
 
 THE WAY TO PROSPER. 173 
 
 that shall he also reap. We both have our harvest- 
 time ; but what a difference in the harvest !" 
 
 To this, Mr. Stevens made no reply. What 
 could he say ? Painfully did the shrinking form 
 and bowed head of the unhappy man affect him. 
 But words of comfort it was not in his power to 
 utter. Every man must reap in his own harvest 
 field, and gather wheat or tares, according as he 
 has sown good or bad seed. 
 
 " You will give me work ?" said Peter Close, 
 lifting his head and speaking in a firmer tone. " I 
 have walked from Albany to this city, and am now 
 without a dollar. All I ask is work. I have come 
 for nothing more." 
 
 " Oh, yes ; you shall have work. But you do not 
 look well." 
 
 " I am not well. I am exhausted by long tra 
 veling and want of proper food." 
 
 "Then go and recruit yourself for a few days." 
 
 And as Mr. Stevens said this, he took from his 
 pocket book a twenty dollar bill and handed it to 
 Peter, adding 
 
 " Take this and supply your present wants." 
 
 But the man drew back, murmuring 
 
 " No, no ; I did not come for that. Let me go 
 to work, and pay me what I earn, daily, until I can 
 a little recover myself." 
 
 " Take it !" said Victor Stevens, in the tone of one 
 who felt that he had a right to command. " I will 
 not give you work until you are in a condition to 
 work. There, take the money ! We will settle the 
 account at another time !" 
 
 Thus urged, Peter Close received the money, and
 
 174 THE WAY TO PHOSPEK. 
 
 with, many thanks, retired, promising to come back 
 in a few days ; or as soon as he felt able to go to 
 work. In a week he re-appeared, took his place as 
 a compositor in the office of one who had been his 
 school-mate, and who entered the world with pros 
 pects no better than his own. 
 
 More than fifteen years have passed since that 
 strange meeting. Peter Close remains a simple 
 type-setter in the office, earning weekly but little 
 more than he spends. His habits are not regular, 
 and occasionally he loses time and spends in dissipa 
 tion what little he may happen to have saved. All 
 these irregularities are borne with for the sake of 
 early associations. 
 
 As for the brothers, they continued to increase in 
 wealth, and to command the respect and esteem of 
 their fellow citizens. A few years ago, the oldest 
 brother retired with a large fortune, to give place 
 to two of the sons of Hartley Stevens, who are now 
 members of the firm. 
 
 And here we bring our unadorned history to a 
 close. The lesson it teaches is one of vast import 
 ance to those who are just entering upon life to 
 the youth of our great and happy country to 
 parents who would see their children united and 
 prosperous. "In union there is strength." Let this 
 truth be taught in every family. Let children learn 
 it from their cradles. Let parents teach it to them 
 as one of the best and highest precepts appertaining 
 to natural life. If there is family concord bro 
 therly union reciprocal regard and interest ; the 
 way of entrance into life will be far less difficult 
 than it is found by many. Not all in the same
 
 THE WAY TO PR.OSPEK. 175 
 
 family are, by nature, fitted for a hard strife with 
 fortune ; yet each has some peculiar ability, and, if 
 united in entering the world, can usually s;> work 
 together, sustain, encourage and help each other, 
 atf to secure the well-being of all.
 
 WHERE THERE'S A WILL. THERE'S A WAY. 
 
 "JAMES," said a master workman to a young 
 man, a journeyman in his shop, "business has be 
 come so dull that I must reduce the number of my 
 men. As you came in last, you will have to go 
 among the first. I am sorry for this, but cannot 
 help it. To continue my present force would be to 
 ruin me." 
 
 James Harker, that was the journeyman's name, 
 looked surprised and pained for a moment or two. 
 But he had a confident spirit within him, and soon 
 recovered his self-control. 
 
 "I am sorry, too," he replied. "But I know 
 business is very bad, and that you are perfectly 
 right in reducing your expenses. I shall get along 
 somehow, no doubt." 
 
 " Yes, James, I have no doubt of that. Where 
 there is a will there is a way." 
 
 " The truth of that saying I have proved more 
 than once in my life," the young man returned. 
 "And I shall prove it again." 
 
 "I am sure of that," the master workman said. 
 " Such a spirit as your's always makes success." 
 
 At the end of the week, Harker, with three other 
 journeymen, received their wages, and were dis 
 charged. Among these, Harker was the only mar- 
 
 (177)
 
 178 WHERE THERE'S A WILL, 
 
 ried man. He had three children. One of the 
 journeymen thrown out of work, was named Wilson. 
 He lived near Harker, and the two walked home 
 ward together. Wilson was a young man of good 
 mind, some education, and excellent moral charac 
 ter. He had a widowed mother with whom he 
 lived, and towards whose support he contributed as 
 much as was needful. In doing this, he was taxed 
 but lightly ; for old Mrs. Wilson had an independent 
 mind, and was habitually industrious. She always 
 would be doing something. 
 
 4 'This is rather a bad business, Wilson," James 
 Harker said, as the two left the shop, each with a 
 week's wages in his pocket. He did not speak in a 
 desponding, but, rather, in a cheerful voice. 
 
 "I don't see what we are to do," was gloomily 
 replied. " There's no work to be had in the city, 
 and won't be for months to come." 
 
 "I shouldn't like to say that. There must be 
 work somewhere." 
 
 "If there is, I, for one, would like very much to 
 find it." 
 
 "If there is, I, for one, will find it," Harker said 
 confidently. 
 
 " You can try, if you choose; but you'll have all 
 your trouble for nothing." 
 
 ' We will see. I have never given up yet, and 
 never intend giving up while there is any thing left 
 of me. It is the worst thing in the world to des 
 pond. Despondency is almost sure to produce 
 failure, while confidence guarantees success. Where 
 there is a will there is a way, that is my motto. It 
 has helped me through narrower places--than this."
 
 THERE'S A WAT. 179 
 
 " It has never helped me, then ; and I'm sure I 
 have a good enough will." 
 
 "Perhaps it is a passive and not an active will. 
 It may be that you call upon Jupiter without putting 
 your shoulder to the wheel." 
 
 "You may think so, but I don't," was returned a 
 little impatiently. 
 
 Harker seeing that his fellow workman wouldn't 
 bear plain talk, said no more on the subject. On 
 returning home, James saw that the face of his 
 wife was troubled. She looked at him earnestly, 
 while the tears stood in her eyes : but she said 
 nothing. His countenance wore its usual cheerful 
 air. This was, in part, assumed, to strengthen the 
 heart of his wife, who was more inclined than him 
 self to look at the dark side of things. After the 
 children were all in bed, and his wife had taken her 
 seat by a little work-table, with her sewing in her 
 hand, James said to her : 
 
 "Don't look so troubled, Lucy. All will come 
 out right in the end. I shall get work somewhere." 
 
 " I don't know, James. Times, you have said all 
 a long, are very dull. I'm afraid you will lie out of 
 work all summer. And if that should happen, I 
 don't know what we shall do. Mr. Ekhart hasn't 
 had a stroke of work these four months, and can't 
 get it any where. His family is in a distressed 
 condition." 
 
 " Ekhart don't try to get work as he ought to try. 
 He's above doing many things that he might do. 
 I know all abou^ him." 
 
 " His family is greatly in want of every thing." 
 
 "And he is walking about like a gentleman. 
 15
 
 180 WHERE THEHE S A WILL, 
 
 Don't think, for an instant, Lucy, that I will ever 
 see you and the children want, while I have health 
 and strength. If I can't get work at my trade, I 
 can get it at something else. Work I will. If I 
 can't make ten dollars a week, I \vill make five. 
 Half a loaf is better than no bread. Not so Ek- 
 hart. He must have just such kind of work, and 
 just such prices. He can't do this, that, nor the 
 other/' 
 
 "But where is work to be had? There are a 
 large number of persons idle." 
 
 "Where there is a will there is a way, Lucy. 
 That is my sheet anchor." 
 
 "Suppose every body had this will ?" 
 
 "Then for every body there would be a way. 
 Not, of course, exactly the way most agreeable to 
 every body ; but, still, a way in which service might 
 be rendered to others, and an equivalent for that 
 service obtained." 
 
 The confident tone of her husband encouraged 
 Lucy. The feeling of despondency that had weighed 
 upon her spirits for many hours, gradually passed 
 off. This was succeeded by a more cheerful state 
 of mind. 
 
 Early on Monday morning Harker started out 
 to put his first resolution into practice, which was 
 to visit every establishment in New York, carrying 
 on the branch of business at which he worked. As 
 he had not calculated on getting work at the first, 
 second, or third application, he was not discouraged 
 even when dinner time found him unsuccessful. To 
 his wife's anxious questions he replied cheerfully. 
 After dinner he went out again.
 
 THERE'S A WAT. 181 
 
 "How is business?" he asked, for the fiftieth 
 time, as he entered a shop near the close of the 
 day. 
 
 "Dull enough," was the reply. 
 
 "Don't you think you could make room for a 
 hand ?" 
 
 Before a reply to this could be made, >a man 
 entered the shop, and asked if a certain number of 
 articles, such as were manufactured -there, could be 
 delivered to him in ten days. The master workman 
 agreed to furnish what was wanted in the stipulated 
 time, and at once engaged the services of James 
 Harker to enable him to fulfill his contract. 
 
 As Harker was returning home towards nightfall 
 he met Wilson. 
 
 "Have you found any work yet?" asked the 
 former. 
 
 "I havn't tried. It's no use. The business is 
 killed up. I may look about a little during the 
 week. But I don't expect any good to come from it." 
 
 "Nor will any good come from it, I am myself 
 inclined to think. Efforts made in such a spirit are 
 rarely successful. I started out this morning con 
 fident that some good would come of my efforts. 
 And I am pleased to say that I have not been dis- 
 appo'nted. After going from shop to shop, until I 
 had gone nearly over the whole city, I at last hit 
 the very moment when a dealer was making a large 
 and hurried order, and obtained work for ten days." 
 
 " Ten days ! What is that ?" 
 
 "It is ten days' work. Which is much better 
 than ten days lost. Something favorable will turn 
 up after that," 
 
 16
 
 182 WHERE THERE'S A WILL, 
 
 "Maybe so. But you'll find, in the end, that 
 you are too sanguine." 
 
 "Think so?" 
 
 "Yes, I do." 
 
 " We'll see." 
 
 "Good day!" And Wilson passed on, feeling 
 chagrined at Barker's good fortune, which was a 
 rebuke of his own want of confidence and activity. 
 
 The cheerful smile that lit up the face of Lucy, 
 when Harker mentioned his success, more than 
 repaid him doubly for the efforts of the day. 
 
 The job lasted for the time specified. By work 
 ing early and late, he was able to make just twenty 
 dollars in ten days. 
 
 " Well, are you through with your job, yet ?' J 
 asked Wilson, meeting him the day after he had 
 finished. 
 
 "Yes, I got through yesterday." 
 
 " What are you going to do now ?" 
 
 " I'm going to try for work somewhere else.'"' 
 
 "Do you think you will get it?" 
 
 "I do. Something will offer I am sure." 
 
 " You'll be a luckier dog than are some ten or a 
 dozen I know, if it does. I've been trying ever 
 
 since we quit work at L 's, but it's no use. 
 
 Not a hand's turn can I find to do. I went this 
 morning to two shops, but no journeymen vrere 
 wanted." 
 
 "Where there's a will there's a way," Harker 
 said to himself, as he walked slowly and thought 
 fully along, after parting with Wilson. " He's not 
 earnest enough about it. Two shops this morning! 
 Why, I've been to ten, and was only too late by a
 
 
 THERE'S A WAY. 183 
 
 quarter of an hour at one of them to secure a per-' 
 tranent situation. He's got a mother to fall back 
 upon ; while I've got a wife and children to fall 
 back upon me. That makes a wonderful difference..' 
 
 Wilson, on parting with Harker, returned home. 
 
 " It's no use trying," he said. "I don't believe 
 I shall get anything to do for months to come. I 
 called at two or three shops this morning : every 
 thing is perfectly flat. I know at least a dozen 
 journeymen with families to support, who have not 
 had a stroke of work for weeks." 
 
 The mother spoke words of encouragement to 
 her son. Told him not to let his mind be disturbed. 
 That she could easily keep up the family for six 
 months to come, when work would be brisk again. 
 
 Assurances of this kind tended to make Wilson 
 less anxious about employment, and, of course, 
 less likely to secure it. It was not pleasant to his 
 feelings, to be going from shop to shop, seeking 
 work, and so he quit doing so. Many hours were 
 spent in reading, but many more in wandering 
 aimlessly about, waiting until business should re 
 vive. 
 
 " It's dreadful dull," was his oft repeated remark, 
 to fellow workmen, who, like himself, could find 
 nothing better to do than walking about the streets. 
 Occasionally he would fall in with Harker, who, 
 somehow or other managed never to be idle over a 
 day or two at a time. He kept always in the way 
 of employment, because he was anxious to obtain it, 
 and in consequence, picked up many little jobs that 
 would otherwise have been missed. 
 
 "I don't know how it is" Wilson would some-
 
 184 WHERE THERE S A WILL, 
 
 times say .to him, " that you manage always to keep 
 at something. I can't meet with any thing to do. 
 And I'm sure I am as willing to work as you are." 
 
 " You don't keep all the while trying, as I do, I 
 suppose.' These are times when work has to be 
 looked up. It doesn't come after people as it did a 
 year ago." 
 
 Wilson didn't relish plain talk like this, because 
 it reflected upon him unfavorably. He evidenced 
 his true feelings in his reply, that was not spoken 
 in a calm, mild tone. The effect, however, was to 
 cause him to go among the shops on the next day, 
 when he was fortunate enough to secure a job that 
 lasted a few weeks. 
 
 " Nothing like trying," remarked Harker to him 
 sententiously, the next time they met. " It pos 
 sesses a wonderful virtue." 
 
 But, even with trying, Harker found, after a 
 while, that he could not get enough to do to meet 
 the wants of his family. Times seemed to grow 
 harder. His mind, constantly active, and con 
 stantly seeking after the means for earning money, 
 devised many schemes, and was aided by many 
 suggestions awakened therein, that would never 
 have presented themselves, had not his will been 
 constantly stimulating his thoughts. The result of 
 almost every day, was, to him, an illustration of his 
 favorite adage where there is a will there is a way. 
 He knew that the will was creative, and made to 
 itself the means for gaining its ends. It was tho 
 consciousness of this, that gave him courage to hope 
 even in the hour of deepest darkness. 
 
 Some time had elapsed since he was thrown out
 
 THERE'S A WAY. 185 
 
 of regular employment, and even he had been made 
 to fear often amid his hard struggles. At length, 
 try as he would, he could find nothing to do. 
 
 One morning, after having been idle for a week, 
 he found himself with only a single dollar left, and 
 no kind of prospect in regard to work. For the 
 first time he could not relish his food. For the first 
 time his confidence forsook him, and, instead of 
 cheerful words for the ear of his wife, he was silent, 
 depressed and thoughtful. To see her husband, 
 always before, in every trying situation, so -assured 
 and cheerful, thus distressed about their prospects, 
 at once dashed the spirit of Lucy to the earth. 
 When she did venture to speak in her husband's 
 presence, her voice was tremulous, when she looked 
 him in the face, he could see that her eyes were 
 just ready to run over with tears. He could not 
 bear this. It caused him the most poignant afflic 
 tion of mind. Early after the scarcely tasted 
 morning meal, he went out with a kind of desperate 
 determination to get something to do at all hazards. 
 
 "There is, there must be work for him that is 
 willing to do it, somewhere," he said, half-aloud, as 
 he strode away from his door. 
 
 He had not gone far when he met his old fellow 
 workman, Wilson. The latter looked quite con 
 tented. Since his last job, he had made a few 
 feeble efforts to get something to do, but failing of 
 success, was now contented to eat his bread quietly, 
 and wait patiently until times grew better. The 
 statement from every one he met, that business was 
 worse than ever, and that it was no use to look for 
 work, satisfied hia naiad. 

 
 186 WHERE THERE'S A WILL, 
 
 "Ah, go)d morning, Harker," he said, with 
 something of triumph in his voice "even your 
 will can't always find a way, it seems. So you are 
 idle still ?" 
 
 " Yes. I have not been able to get any thing to 
 do for a week." 
 
 "And won't for a week to come perhaps a 
 year." 
 
 "I'll get something to do before this day is over," 
 was the half desperate reply. 
 
 " At street sweeping, then.'/ 
 
 "Very well. Let it be street sweeping, or any 
 other honest calling that I can find. Work I must 
 and will have." 
 
 " I want work as much as any one, but I am not 
 quite prepared for street sweeping, sawing wood, or 
 turning carman." 
 
 " If you had a wife and three or four children to 
 care for, you might be thankful for the chance of 
 turning a penny in either of the occupations you 
 have named." 
 
 "But I havn't, thank fortune !" 
 
 " I have, then ; and I am willing to work at any 
 honest calling." 
 
 By this time the friends, who had been walking 
 down Washington street, had nearly reached the 
 Battery. Harker paused at the corner of a street, 
 and said that he was going to cross to the other side 
 of Broadway, and look about among the stores in 
 Pearl and other business streets, to see if he couldn't 
 get work as a laborer, or light porter. 
 
 " You are not in earnest, surely ?" Wilson said, 
 " A laborer, or porter !'
 
 THERE'S A WAY. 187 
 
 "I am in earnest," Harker replied. "Why not? 
 Will it not be much better for me to work in a ware 
 house, or carry small parcels, or do the errands in a 
 store, than to sit down, or walk idly about, while my 
 family is suffering? I think so." 
 
 " Come walk down upon the Battery, with me, at 
 any rate. Perhaps something will offer there. Who 
 knows but that you may find small boating worth 
 the trial. There are one American and two foreign 
 ships of war lying off in the stream." 
 
 This was said lightly, but it made the heart of 
 James Harker bound. The suggestion he saw, at 
 a glance, was a good one. He did not hesitate a 
 moment, but walked with a quickened pace to the 
 Battery, and down towards Castle Garden. Several 
 small boats were there, in each of which was an 
 active oarsman. 
 
 "What will you charge to take me off to the 
 Constellation ?" a man, with a lady on his arm, 
 asked of a boatman, just as Harker and his friend 
 came up. 
 
 "Two shillings a piece to go, and the same to 
 return," was the reply, 
 
 " That is a dollar to take us there and back 
 again ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 The gentleman and lady entered the boat and 
 were rowed off. 
 
 "Just the thing !" ejaculated Harker, as the boat 
 bounded away. " Thank you a hundred times for 
 your suggestion Wilson." 
 
 "But you are not in earnest?"
 
 188 WHERE THERE'S A WILL, 
 
 ''lam." His brightening face spoke more un 
 equivocally than his words. 
 
 "Nonsense! But where will you get a boat?" 
 
 "Hireene." 
 
 "You can't." 
 
 " I can try. Where there's a will, there's a 
 way." And so saying, Harker turned away, and 
 took a direct course to the lower end of the Battery, 
 where he soon succeeded in getting a boat from a 
 man with whom he was acquainted. In this he 
 rowed around to Castle Garden. Wilson, curious to 
 see where all this would end, had remained standing 
 by the railing of the Battery. He could hardly be 
 lieve his own eyes, when he saw Harker come row 
 ing up, close under where he stood, and ask, jocosely, 
 if he did not wish to go out to the Constellation. 
 But a word or two had passed between them, when 
 half a dozen men came up and asked if he would 
 take them out to a French brig that lay off in the 
 harbor, and return with them in an hour. A bargain 
 was at once made with them, they agreed to pay 
 him two dollars for the job, or a little over two 
 shillings apiece. 
 
 "Where there's a will there's a way, Wilson," 
 Harker cried out to his friend, in a confident voice, 
 as he pulled off with his freight from the shore. 
 
 " I wouldn't do that for any one," muttered Wil 
 son, in a dissatisfied tone, as he turned away and 
 left the Battery. 
 
 At dinner time, Harker did not come home. A 
 frugal meal had been prepared by his wife at the 
 regular hour, but he did not return as usual. This 
 made her feel uneasy. She could not remember
 
 THERE'S A WAT. 189 
 
 when he had been away so long before. All the 
 afternoon she waited for him, expecting him to come 
 in every minute, but she waited in vain. Many 
 thoughts troubled her. She had permitted herself 
 to become gloomy and desponding while she had her 
 husband to depend upon. Suppose any accident 
 should have happened to him ! Suppose he were 
 dead! 
 
 This thought startled her so that she rose up from 
 the chair she had drawn close to the window, in 
 order to see her work more distinctly in the deepen 
 ing twilight. At this moment the door opened, and 
 her husband entered. 
 
 " 0, James ! where have you been all day ?" she 
 asked, eagerly. 
 
 "Hard at work, Lucy, and here are my net 
 gains," holding out in his hand seven hard dollars. 
 "I hired a boat for a dollar, and have made eight 
 dollars by rowing people out to the ships of war in 
 the harbor. I've been hard at work all day, and 
 now feel as happy as a young kitten, and as hungry 
 as a bear." 
 
 Six months from that day, Harker, who con 
 tinued "small boating," owned three boats, one of 
 which he daily plied himself between the shore and 
 the shipping, and the others he hired out. He had 
 three hundred dollars in the Savings' Bank, and was 
 as happy, to use his own words, as the day was long. 
 As for Wilson, he walked about for nearly the whole 
 of that time, doing nothing to benefit others, and 
 living a burden to himself. Harker had several 
 times tried to induce him to take a boat and try his 
 luck, but the proposition always made him half
 
 190 WHERE THERE'S A WILL, ETC. 
 
 angry. To his false pride there -was something de 
 grading in the occupation. He did not reflect that 
 idleness, or dependence upon others, was more really- 
 degrading than any occupation that was strictly 
 honest. He had not studied to purpose that noble 
 couplet of Pope's 
 
 " Honor and shame from no condition rise, 
 Act well your part there all the honor lies." 
 
 Instead of looking at his duty instead of only ask 
 ing "Is this right?" he let himself be governed by 
 what he supposed people would think or say of him. 
 Alas ! that there should be so many in the world 
 like Wilson. Men, from whose intelligence, and 
 professed independence of character, more, much 
 more ought to be expected. 
 
 When trade again revived, James Harker sold 
 off his boats, took his money out of the Savings' 
 Bank, and set up for himself. He is now doing a 
 good business ; lives in a large, comfortable house, 
 and, it is hardly necessary to say, is esteemed and 
 respected by all who know him. Six years have 
 passed since he and Wilson parted on the Battery 
 one to row a party of men to a ship lying in the 
 harbor, and the other to saunter listlessly about the 
 streets. Harker is worth some ten thousand dollars, 
 and Wilson is one of his journeymen. 
 
 Where there's a will ) there's a way.
 
 
 
 DON'T BE DISCOURAGED. 
 
 * DON'T be discouraged, my young friend!" said 
 an elderly man to his companion, whose youthful 
 appearance indicated that few more than twenty 
 years had passed over his head. 
 
 "But I am discouraged, Mr. Linton. Havn't I 
 been disappointed in every thing that I have yet 
 undertaken? Success is a word, the meaning of 
 which I shall never realize." 
 
 "You are young, Henry." 
 
 " Quite old enough to have proved, beyond a doubt, 
 that, try as I will, I shall never rise in the world. 
 I am doomed to struggle on, like a swimmer against 
 a strong current. Instead of advancing at all, I 
 shall be gradually borne down the stream." 
 
 " If you cease to struggle, you will, un question- 
 ably." 
 
 "And will, whether I struggle or not." 
 
 "No: that cannot be. Vigorous, and long con 
 tinued effort will gradually strengthen and mature 
 your thoughts. Hough contact with the world, in 
 which you are made to suffer keenly, will bring out 
 the latent energies of your mind. Bear on manfully 
 for a few years falter not, though every thing look 
 dark, and success will as certainly crown your efforts^ 
 as an effect follows its producing cause." 
 
 16 (191)
 
 * 
 
 192 DOX'T BE DISCOURAGED. 
 
 "I wish I could think so," the young man replied, 
 shaking his head despondingly. " But I am fully 
 convinced, that for me, at least, the door of success 
 is closed." 
 
 " How old are you, Henry?" 
 
 " Just twenty-seven." 
 
 "And have you already failed in three business 
 efforts?" 
 
 "Yes, and what is worse, have become involved 
 in debt." 
 
 "But you mean to pay all you owe, if it is ever 
 in your power?" 
 
 " Can you doubt that for a moment, Mr. Linton?" 
 the young man said, in a quick tone, while a flush 
 passed over his face. " I will pay it all, if I die in 
 the struggle." 
 
 "And yet you were just now talking about giving 
 up in despair?" 
 
 True. And I do feel utterly discouraged. For 
 the last five years no man has labored more earnestly 
 than I have done. Early and late have I been at 
 my business, sometimes even until midnight, and yet 
 all has been in vain. Like a man in a quagmire 
 every struggle to extricate myself from difficulties, 
 has only had the effect to sink me deeper. And now, 
 with honest intentions towards all men, I am looked 
 upon by many as little better than a swindler." 
 
 " You are wrong, in regard to that, Henry. Such 
 is not the estimation in which you are held." 
 
 " Yes, but it is. I have been told to my teeth 
 that I was not an honest man." 
 
 "By whom?" 
 
 "By one of my creditors."
 
 DON'T BE DISCOURAGED. 193 
 
 "That is the solitary case of a man whose inor 
 dinate love of self, showing itself in a love of money, 
 has made him forget the first principles of the law 
 of human kindness." 
 
 "No matter what prompted the unkind remark, 
 its effect is none the less painful, especially as he 
 fully believed what he said." 
 
 "You cannot tell, Henry, whether he fully be- 
 'ieved it or not. But suppose that his words did 
 but express his real thought what then ? Does 
 his opinion make you different from what you really 
 
 are 
 
 " Of course not. But it is very painful to have 
 such things said." 
 
 "No doubt of it. But conscious integrity of pur 
 pose should be sufficient to sustain any man." 
 
 " It might in my case, if I were not thoroughly 
 crushed down. My mind is like an inflamed body 
 the lighest touch is felt far more sensibly than 
 would be a heavy blow if all were healthy. You 
 understand me?" 
 
 "Perfectly, and I can feel for you. But knowing 
 that the state of mind in which you are is, as you 
 intimate, an unhealthy one, I cannot agree with 
 you in your discouraging conclusions." 
 
 " But what can I do ? Have I not failed in three 
 earnest, and well directed efforts to advance myself 
 in the world?" 
 
 "Try again, Henry." 
 
 " And come out worse than before." 
 
 "No no that need not follow. Try in a better 
 way." 
 
 "Do you mean to intimate that I have not con- 
 
 17
 
 194 DON'T BE 
 
 DISCOUEAGED. 
 
 ducted my business in a proper manner?" asked the 
 young man, in a quick voice, his cheek instantly 
 glowing. 
 
 "I do not mean to intimate," returned Mr. Lin- 
 ton calmly, " that you committed any wilful wrong 
 in your business. And yet, I suppose you will not 
 yourself deny the position, that there was some 
 thing wrong about it, or success would have met 
 your earnest efforts, instead of failure." 
 
 " I don't know," was the gloomy response. " The 
 Fates, I believe, are against me." 
 
 "What do you mean by the Fates?" 
 
 The young man made no reply, and his monitor 
 resumed in a still more serious tone 
 
 "You can only mean, of course, that Divine 
 Being, who is the author of our existence, and the 
 controller of our destinies. That Being, who is es 
 sential love and wisdom, and whose acts towards us 
 can only flow from a pure regard for the good of 
 his creatures. And if such regard be directed by 
 wisdom that cannot err, can any act of his towards 
 you be evil ?" 
 
 "I try to think in that way and try often," re 
 turned the young man, in a softened tone. " But it 
 is hard, very hard to believe that a Being of infi 
 nite goodness would so hedge up the path of any 
 one as mine has been hedged up would so mock 
 with vain hopes the heart of any one as mine has 
 been mocked." 
 
 "Your mind is not now in a state to think calmly 
 and rationally upon this subject, Henry," Mr. Lin- 
 ton said ; " but the time will come, when you will 
 see in this state of severe trial a dispensation of
 
 DON'T BE DISCOURAGED. 195 
 
 mercy. It will then be perceived, that all this was 
 for the purpose of giving you juster views of life, and 
 confirming you in higher ends than any that you 
 have heretofore acted upon. For the present, I will 
 only repeat Don't be discouraged ! Try again ! 
 Put your shoulder once more to the wheel. Depend 
 upon it, your time will come; but not until you can 
 bear success in a right spirit. And to have success 
 before you are thus prepared to bear it, would be 
 the worst injury that could befall you." 
 
 Henry Grant, the young man here introduced to 
 the reader's notice, had, at the age of twenty-one, 
 done the very imprudent thing of entering into 
 business for himself. True, from the age of seven 
 teen he had been in the store of a merchant, who 
 had carried on a very extensive trade, and had, 
 moreover, acquired so thorough a knowledge of 
 business, that the most important subordinate posi 
 tion in the house had been assigned to him. But 
 this confidence reposed in him, and this familiarity 
 with the business in which he was engaged, deceived 
 him. He saw that heavy profits were accruing every 
 year. That while he was toiling on through the 
 long months of an annual cycle of a single thousand 
 dollars, tens of thousands were added to the coffers 
 of his already wealthy employer. 
 
 " Why should I waste the best years of my life 
 in making money for others?" he asked himself, the 
 day after he had attained his majority. 
 
 This thought was the germ of discontent in his 
 mind. It was nourished, and grew into a tree, 
 whose thick leaves so overshaodwed his mind, that 
 
 16*
 
 196 DON'T BE DISCOUKAGED. 
 
 he could not see the clear sky of sober truth above, 
 in which shone stars whose light beamed forth to 
 guide him. He became eager for wealth, that he 
 might have selfish enjoyments. Every beautiful 
 dwelling, the reward of, perhaps, years of steady 
 industry, and now enjoyed by some opulent mer 
 chant, he envied its possessor. He sighed when a 
 rich man's carriage rolled by him in the street. 
 Nothing rare, or new, or elegant, gratified his eye, 
 because it was not his own. 
 
 Impelled by a weak and selfish desire to be sud 
 denly rich, a few years after he had come to the 
 age of manhood, he drew from the hands of his 
 guardian five thousand dollars, the hard-earned and 
 carefully husbanded treasure left him by his father, 
 and threw himself with large ideas and unwavering 
 confidence upon the troubled sea of merchandise. 
 The story of this adventure is soon told. In two 
 years he was compelled to wind up his business, 
 having lost his entire capital. 
 
 This was a painful shock. But it was of use to 
 him in unsealing his eyes, and giving him a truer 
 view of life, and soberer ideas from which to act. 
 Still, he could not think, having once been. in busi 
 ness for himself, of falling back into the monotonous, 
 dull, and humble condition of a clerk. There was 
 something in the fact of mingling with merchants 
 on a plane of equality, that flattered his vanity. 
 He had thus mingled, and thus felt flattered. The 
 thought of taking his old position, and of losing the 
 courtesies that had been so grateful to him, was 
 more than he could think of enduring. This feel-
 
 DON'T BE DISCOURAGED. 197 
 
 ing alone, had none other operated upon his mind, 
 would have induced him again to make an effort to 
 get into business. 
 
 A few months enabled him to so arrange his old 
 affairs, as to be ready to go on again. He found 
 numbers ready to sell him goods on short credit, and 
 this determined him once more to cast himself upon 
 the ocean. He did so. Two more years passed on, 
 and at their termination he found himself, alas ! 
 again in a narrow place. Much more than all his 
 profits in that time were locked up in bad debts, rem 
 nants, and unsaleable goods. For a time, by bor 
 rowing from a few friends, he had been enabled to 
 meet his payments, but that resource at last failed, 
 and trouble again came upon him. But it was a 
 worse trouble than before, and shocked his proud, 
 sensitive feelings severely. His goods and accounts, 
 after all had been given up, were not sufficient to 
 pay the claims against him. He was, therefore, an 
 insolvent debtor. 
 
 As fairy castles fade away under the magician's 
 touch, so faded away, at this event, the glowing 
 ideas of wealth and splendor that had passed so 
 temptingly before the eyes of Henry Grant. He 
 did not now ask for his tens of thousands his 
 country seats, glittering equipages, and all the 
 splendid paraphernalia attendant upon high station 
 in society, united with immense wealth. To have 
 possessed the few thousands of dollars that were 
 exhibited as deficits in his accounts, would have com 
 passed his dearest wishes. But even this humble 
 and honorable desire was not granted. He was in
 
 198 DON'T BE DISCOURAGED. 
 
 debt, and what was worse, with a sense of helpless 
 ness and hoplessness added thereto. 
 
 In due course of time, his business was settled up, 
 and he again thrown upon the world. While de 
 bating in his mind .the propriety of accepting an 
 offer from his old employer, and entering his store 
 as a clerk, propositions were made to him from an 
 individual to accept a share in hip business. He did 
 so without consultation with any friend. The result 
 was unfavorable. Scarcely a year had elapsed, be 
 fore crash went the whole concern about his ears. 
 
 It was under the disheartening effects of this last 
 disaster, that we have seen him laboring. How far 
 he had just cause of despondency, or just cause to 
 suppose that the Fates were against him, the reader 
 will be likely to determine more wisely than he was 
 able to do himself. 
 
 " Don't be discouraged, Henry !" said his old em 
 ployer to him a few days after the conversation be 
 tween the young man and Mr. Linton. " You are 
 young yet. I was thirty-four when I commenced 
 my present business, and you are but twenty-seven. 
 Tou have seven years, therefore, in your favor." 
 
 " But I am in debt." 
 
 "How much?" 
 
 " Five thousand dollars. ' Or, if I am to be held 
 liable for my late partner's obligations, some twenty 
 or thirty thousand. But I believe those claims will 
 not come against me. When I entered into the co 
 partnership, I happened to be wise enough to have 
 a clause inserted in the agreement, protecting me 
 from all prior obligations of my new associate in 
 business."
 
 DON'T BE DISCOUKAGED. 199 
 
 " And well for you it is that you did so. Five 
 thousand dollars, then, is all you owe. For your 
 comfort, I will tell you, that, at your age, from im 
 prudences similar to your own, I was ten thousand 
 dollars in debt." 
 
 " And remained so for seven years ?" 
 
 "Yes, and for more than that. It was ten years 
 before I was able to wipe off old scores." 
 
 "0 dear! I should die if I thought it would be ten 
 years before I could write myself free from debt." 
 
 "It is not so easy a matter to die as you might 
 think," the merchant replied, smiling. 
 
 "But what am I to do?" asked Grant, in real 
 distress of mind. 
 
 " Do ? Why there are many ways to do. All 
 that is wanted is patience and resolution ; not 
 mere excitement, you liave had enough of that. 
 You felt, six years ago, as if you had the world in 
 a sling. I saw it all, and knew where it would all 
 end." 
 
 "Why did not you tell,;me so?" 
 
 " Because you would not have believed me. And, 
 besides, 'bought wit is best.' No experience like a 
 man's own ! A few years of disappointment and 
 trouble I saw would be necessary to tbresh off the 
 chaff of your character." 
 
 "And pretty well threshed I have been, verily! 
 But, to come back to the one question ever upper 
 most in my mind. What am I to do ?" 
 
 " There is one thing, you can do, Henry," replied 
 the merchant, " and that is to come into my store 
 and receive a salary of twelve hundred dollars a 
 year."
 
 200 DON'T BE DISCOURAGED. 
 
 " My heart thanks you for your kind offer," re 
 plied the young man earnestly. "But, to do so, 
 would be to act from a mere selfish regard to my 
 own interests." 
 
 "How so?" 
 
 " The salary of a clerk will yield simply a sup 
 port ; it cannot pay off my debts." 
 
 "You wish, then, to go again into business?" 
 
 "I must do something to relieve myself from 
 debt." 
 
 " I do not see, as things now are, that going into 
 business will accomplish this very desirable object. 
 So far, business has only tended to involve you 
 deeper and deeper." 
 
 " I know that, and it is because of this, that I am 
 so terribly disheartened." 
 
 "Then come into my store, and devote yourself 
 for a year or so to my business. It will yield you a 
 living. By that time something may open before 
 you. It is time enough yet, depend upon it, for you 
 to enter the arena of strife as a merchant. The 
 position is one requiring a cooler head and more ex 
 perience than you are yet possessed of. I have long 
 since been satisfied, from extensive observation, that, 
 as a general rule, nine men out of. ten fail, who 
 enter into business as merchants, under thirty years 
 of age." 
 
 At last, but with some reluctance, Henry Grant 
 fell back into his old place as clerk, where he re 
 mained for four years. During that period, early 
 painTul experiences formed in his mind a true plane 
 of thought. He was enabled to see how and where 
 he had been in error, and how wrong ends had led
 
 DON'T BE DISCOURAGED. 201 
 
 him into imprudent acts. He could not, at times, 
 help smiling as a recollection of former states came 
 up, in which it seemed to him, that he had hut to 
 lift his hand and gather in wealth to any extent. 
 Then he was eloquent on principles of architectural 
 taste, and could descant wisely upon rural beauties, 
 enhanced hy liberal art. Nowhere could he find a 
 mansion either in the city or country, that fully 
 came up to his ideas of what a rich man's dwelling 
 should be. But a spirit far more subdued had now 
 come over him. He could go up into higher regions 
 of his mind, and see there in existence principles 
 whose pure delights flowed not from the mere grati 
 fication of selfish and sensual pleasures. He was 
 made deeply conscious, that even with all the wealth, 
 and all the external things which wealth could give, 
 for the gratification of the senses, and for the pam 
 pering of selfishness and pride, he could not be 
 happy. That happiness must flow from an internal 
 state, and not from any combination of external 
 circumstances. About this time the oldest son ot 
 his employer arrived at his thirtieth year. Up to 
 this period he had, since the attainment of his ma 
 jority, held an interest in his father's business, which 
 regularly yielded him about two thousand dollars 
 per annum. A proposition to enter into business 
 with his son, on a cash basis of twenty thousand 
 dollars, and credit to any reasonable extent, was at 
 once accepted by Grant. 
 
 Ten years from that day he was a sober-minded 
 merchant, steadily and wisely pursuing his business, 
 and worth every cent of fifty thousand dollars. 
 
 " The Fates have at last grown propitious," re-
 
 202 DON'T BE DISCOURAGED 
 
 marked old Mr. Linton to him one day, with a look 
 and tone that was understood. 
 
 "I have only become a wiser man, I presume, 
 and therefore better able to bear an improved con 
 dition," was the reply of Mr. Grant. 
 
 "Then you do not now regret your early disap 
 pointments?" 
 
 " 0, no. I am truly thankful that I was not suf 
 fered to acquire wealth while under the influence of 
 my vain, weak and foolish ideas. My reverses were 
 blessings in disguise. They were sent as correctors 
 of evil." 
 
 "That you can now see clearly?" 
 
 " 0, yes. Had I been allowed to go on success 
 fully, treasuring up wealth, I should have been made 
 miserable. My weak desires would have been ever 
 in advance of my abilities. I should have envied 
 those who were able to make a more imposing ap 
 pearance than myself, and despised all who were 
 below me. And, surely, in this life, I can imagine 
 no state so truly unhappy as that." 
 
 " He is the wise man," returned Mr. Linton, 
 " who thus, from seeming evil educes goood. The 
 longer we live, and the more of the ups and downs 
 of life we see, the stronger becomes our conviction 
 that there is One above all, and wiser than all, who 
 rules events for our good. Between the ages of 
 twenty-one and thirty are usually crowded more 
 disappointments and discouraging circumstances 
 more trials and pains than in all a man's after'life. 
 Will any one who has passed forty tell you in his 
 sober reflective moments that he cannot look back 
 and see that these have all worked together for his
 
 DON'T BE DISCOURAGED. 203 
 
 good ? I think not. And this will be the case as 
 well with him who has grown rich as with him who 
 still toils early and late for his daily bread." 
 
 " There is then, you believe, an overruling Provi 
 dence that has some reference to a man's external 
 condition in the world permitting one to grow rich, 
 and keeping another poor?" 
 
 "I do. But all this regards his eternal, and not 
 his mere temporal condition. Our mistake lies in 
 estimating the dealings of Providence as referring 
 particularly to our external condition. This is not 
 the case. We are regarded with a love that looks 
 to our higher and better interests to our spiritual 
 and eternal good. External things, because it is by 
 these that we are most affected, are so governed, as 
 to lead us to think of interior things that appertain 
 to the life within to that life which we are to live 
 when separated from the body. It matters not how 
 blindly we are pursuing a course in which we are 
 determined to succeed the Great Ruler and Gover 
 nor of all things will obstruct our way, if that way 
 leads to our spiritual obstruction,~and it is possible 
 to turn us in a better way. Too often it happens 
 that men are allowed to go on in evil courses, be 
 cause, if turned from them, they would pursue after 
 more direful, soul-destroying evils." 
 
 " If this lesson could only be received by us, and 
 fully believed when we first enter upon life, how 
 many bitter hours of discouragement it would save 
 us," replied Mr. Grant, with feeling. " But ex 
 perience is the only sure teacher. "We only know 
 what we have lived."
 
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