phelia's Experiences and Opinions

Our friend Tom, in his own simple musings, often compared his more
fortunate lot, in the bondage into which he was cast, with that of
Joseph in Egypt; and, in fact, as time went on, and he developed more
and more under the eye of his master, the strength of the parallel
increased.

St. Clare was indolent and careless of money. Hitherto the providing and
marketing had been principally done by Adolph, who was, to the full, as
careless and extravagant as his master; and, between them both, they had
carried on the dispersing process with great alacrity. Accustomed, for
many years, to regard his master's property as his own care, Tom saw,
with an uneasiness he could scarcely repress, the wasteful expenditure
of the establishment; and, in the quiet, indirect way which his class
often acquire, would sometimes make his own suggestions.

St. Clare at first employed him occasionally; but, struck with his
soundness of mind and good business capacity, he confided in him more
and more, till gradually all the marketing and providing for the family
were intrusted to him.

"No, no, Adolph," he said, one day, as Adolph was deprecating the
passing of power out of his hands; "let Tom alone. You only understand
what you want; Tom understands cost and come to; and there may be some
end to money, bye and bye if we don't let somebody do that."

Trusted to an unlimited extent by a careless master, who handed him a
bill without looking at it, and pocketed the change without counting it,
Tom had every facility and temptation to dishonesty; and nothing but an
impregnable simplicity of nature, strengthened by Christian faith, could
have kept him from it. But, to that nature, the very unbounded trust
reposed in him was bond and seal for the most scrupulous accuracy.

With Adolph the case had been different. Thoughtless and self-indulgent,
and unrestrained by a master who found it easier to indulge than to
regulate, he had fallen into an absolute confusion as to _meum tuum_
with regard to himself and his master, which sometimes troubled even
St. Clare. His own good sense taught him that such a training of his
servants was unjust and dangerous. A sort of chronic remorse went with
him everywhere, although not strong enough to make any decided change
in his course; and this very remorse reacted again into indulgence. He
passed lightly over the most serious faults, because he told himself
that, if he had done h