I enjoyed unlimited indulgence. I cheerfully sustained my portion of
labour, for that necessity prescribed; but the intervals were always at
my own disposal, and, in whatever manner I thought proper to employ
them, my plans were encouraged and assisted. Fond appellations, tones of
mildness, solicitous attendance when I was sick, deference to my
opinions, and veneration for my talents, compose the image which I still
retain of my mother. I had the thoughtlessness and presumption of youth,
and, now that she is gone, my compunction is awakened by a thousand
recollections of my treatment of her. I was indeed guilty of no flagrant
acts of contempt or rebellion. Perhaps her deportment was inevitably
calculated to instil into me a froward and refractory spirit. My faults,
however, were speedily followed by repentance, and, in the midst of
impatience and passion, a look of tender upbraiding from her was always
sufficient to melt me into tears and make me ductile to her will. If
sorrow for her loss be an atonement for the offences which I committed
during her life, ample atonement has been made.

My father is a man of slender capacity, but of a temper easy and
flexible. He was sober and industrious by habit. He was content to be
guided by the superior intelligence of his wife. Under this guidance he
prospered; but, when that was withdrawn, his affairs soon began to
betray marks of unskilfulness and negligence. My understanding, perhaps,
qualified me to counsel and assist my father, but I was wholly
unaccustomed to the task of superintendence. Besides, gentleness and
fortitude did not descend to me from my mother, and these were
indispensable attributes in a boy who desires to dictate to his
gray-headed parent. Time, perhaps, might have conferred dexterity on me,
or prudence on him, had not a most unexpected event given a different
direction to my views.