The Writings Of Douglas Jerrold

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Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: LETTER I. THE BRIGHT POKER. My Dear Little Eoy, ?So early as cock-crow this morning, your dear mother reminded me that you were this day nine yenrs old. The intelligence delighted, yea, and saddened me. My sweet little pet, you will think this strange: I will explain myself. When I remembered that I was the author of a rational being, of a creature destined, it might be, to have a great stake in this world, and a still greater in the next, my heart rose within me, and I was in a transport of happiness. When, again, I reflected that I had given to the earth an intelligent animal, doomed, perhaps, to continual fisticuffs with fortune; marked, branded with poverty; sentenced to all the varieties of the elements; a cold, hungry, houseless, haggard, squalid piece of human offal; a thing with the hopes and aspirations of man, now hardened by the injustice of the world to callous, calculating insensibility, now stung into the activity of craft;?when I saw you ragged and despairing, an outcast in this life, and hopeless for but then I banished the picture from my brain. Things, I thus communed with myself, must not be thought of after this melancholy fashion; otherwise little boys will become extinct. You are now, however, called upon to remember?for you are sufficiently old to understand the obligation, and I shall therefore no longer address you as a mere child?that to me you owe your life. It is now nine years (metaphysicians would say something more, ) since you opened a debtor account with me: an account never to be payed off by laying down the principal, but to be duly acknowledged by the punctual payment of interest in the shape of love, duty, and obedience. Understand, you owe me your life: whether you were, or were not. a party to the debt at the time it w...