ekly allowance of pocket-money, too large for my
age, but safely entrusted to myself, who never spent or desired to spend
one fraction of it upon any thing but books. But all proved too little for
my colossal schemes. Had the Vatican, the Bodleian, and the _Bibliotheque
du Roi_ been all emptied into one collection for my private gratification,
little progress would have been made towards content in this particular
craving. Very soon I had run ahead of my allowance, and was about three
guineas deep in debt. There I paused; for deep anxiety now began to
oppress me as to the course in which this mysterious (and indeed guilty)
current of debt would finally flow. For the present it was frozen up; but
I had some reason for thinking that Christmas thawed all debts whatsoever,
and set them in motion towards innumerable pockets. Now _my_ debt would be
thawed with all the rest; and in what direction would it flow? There was
no river that would carry it off to sea; to somebody's pocket it would
beyond a doubt make its way; and who _was_ that somebody? This question
haunted me for ever. Christmas had come, Christmas had gone, and I heard
nothing of the three guineas. But I was not easier for _that_. Far rather
I _would_ have heard of it; for this indefinite approach of a loitering
catastrophe gnawed and fretted my feelings. No Grecian audience ever
waited with more shuddering horror for the anagnorisis[18] of the
OEdipus, than I for the explosion of my debt. Had I been less ignorant,
I should have proposed to mortgage my weekly allowance for the debt, or to
form a sinking fund for redeeming it; for the _weekly_ sum was nearly five
per cent on the entire debt. But I had a mysterious awe of ever alluding
to it. This arose from my want of some confidential friend; whilst my
grief pointed continually to the remembrance--that _so_ it had not always
been. But was not the bookseller to blame in suffering a child scarcely
seven years old to contract such a debt? Not in the least. He was both a
rich man, who could not possibly care for my trifling custom, and
notoriously an honourable man. Indeed the money which I myself spent every
week in books, would reasonably have caused him to presume that so small a
sum as three guineas might well be authorized by my family. He stood,
however, on plainer ground. For my guardian, who was very indolent, (as
people chose to call it,) that is, like his little melancholy ward, spent
all his time in reading,