r's office;
his tastes were so strongly intellectual that it seemed a pity to put
him to work he hated, and the clerkship was the best opening that could
be procured for him. Two years after, Mr. Scawthorne died; his wife
tried to keep on the business, but soon failed, and thenceforth her son
had to support her as well as himself. From sixteen to three-and-twenty
was the period of young Scawthorne's life which assured his future
advancement--and his moral ruin. A grave, gentle, somewhat effeminate
boy, with a great love of books and a wonderful power of application to
study, he suffered so much during those years of early maturity, that,
as in almost all such eases, his nature was corrupted. Pity that some
self-made intellectual man of our time has not flung in the world's
teeth a truthful autobiography. Scawthorne worked himself up to a
position which had at first seemed unattainable; what he paid for the
success was loss of all his pure ideals, of his sincerity, of his
disinterestedness, of the fine perceptions to which he was born.
Probably no one who is half-starved and overworked during those
critical years comes out of the trial with his moral nature uninjured;
to certain characters it is a wrong irreparable. To stab the root of a
young tree, to hang crushing burdens upon it, to rend off its early
branches--that is not the treatment likely to result in growth such as
nature purposed. There will come of it a vicious formation, and the
principle applies also to the youth of men.

Scawthorne was fond of the theatre; as soon as his time of incessant
toll was over, he not only attended performances frequently, but
managed to make personal acquaintance with sundry theatrical people.
Opportunity for this was afforded by his becoming member of a club,
consisting chiefly of solicitors' clerks, which was frequently honoured
by visits from former associates who had taken to the stage; these
happy beings would condescend to recite at times, to give help in
getting up a dramatic entertainment, and soon, in this way, Scawthorne
came to know an old actor named Drake, who supported himself by
instructing novices, male and female, in his own profession; one of Mr.
Drake's old pupils was Miss Grace Danver, in whom, as soon as he met
her, Scawthorne recognised the Grace Rudd of earlier days. And it was
not long after this that he brought to Mr. Drake a young girl of
interesting appearance, but very imperfect education, who fancied s