England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; English fiction -- 19th century
Not a house in Kingsmill opened hospitable doors to the lonely student;
nor was anyone to blame for this. With no family had he friendly
acquaintance. When, towards the end of his second year, he grew
sufficiently intimate with Buckland Warricombe to walk out with him to
Thornhaw, it could be nothing more than a scarcely welcome exception to
the rule of solitude. Impossible for him to cultivate the friendship of
such people as the Warricombes, with their large and joyous scheme of
life. Only at a hearth where homeliness and cordiality united to unthaw
his proud reserve could Godwin perchance have found the companionship
he needed. Many such homes existed in Kingsmill, but no kindly fortune
led the young man within the sphere of their warmth.
His lodgings were in a very ugly street in the ugliest outskirts of the
town; he had to take a long walk through desolate districts
(brick-yard, sordid pasture, degenerate village) before he could
refresh his eyes with the rural scenery which was so great a joy to him
as almost to be a necessity. The immediate vicinage offered nothing but
monotone of grimy, lower middle-class dwellings, occasionally relieved
by a public-house. He occupied two rooms, not unreasonably clean, and
was seldom disturbed by the attentions of his landlady.
An impartial observer might have wondered at the negligence which left
him to arrange his life as best he could, notwithstanding youth and
utter inexperience. It looked indeed as if there were no one in the
world who cared what became of him. Yet this was merely the result of
his mother's circumstances, and of his own character. Mrs Peak could do
no more than make her small remittances, and therewith send an
occasional admonition regarding his health. She did not, in fact,
conceive the state of things, imagining that the authority and
supervisal of the College extended over her son's daily existence,
whereas it was possible for Godwin to frequent lectures or not, to
study or to waste his time, pretty much as he chose, subject only to
official inquiry if his attendance became frequently irregular. His
independent temper, and the seeming maturity of his mind, supplied
another excuse for the imprudent confidence which left him to his own
resources. Yet the perils of the situation were great indeed. A youth
of less concentrated purpose, more at the mercy of casual allurement,
would probably have gone to wreck amid trials so exceptional.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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