Subsequent reflection, while it showed me the brutality of my conduct to Julia, opened my eyes to the true meaning of her mother's interdiction; and increased the pang of those bitter feelings, which my conscious dependence had awakened in my breast, it was necessary that this dependence should be lessened; that, as I was now approaching manhood, I should cast about for the future, and adopt wisely and at once the means of my support hereafter. It was necessary that I should begin the business of life. On this head I had already reflected somewhat, and my thoughts had taken their direction from more than one conference which I had had with William Edgerton. His father was an eminent lawyer, and the law had been adopted for his profession also. I determined to make it mine; and to speak on this subject to my uncle. This I did. I chose an afternoon, the very week in which my conversation had taken place with Julia, and, while the dinner things were undergoing removal, with some formality requested a private interview with him. He looked round at me with a raised brow of inquiry--nodded his head--and shortly after rose from the table. My aunt stared with an air of supercilious wonder; while poor Julia, timid and trembling, barely ventured to give me a single look, which said--and that was enough for me--“I wish I dared say more.” My conference with my uncle was not of long duration. I told him it was my purpose--my desire--to begin as soon as possible to do something for myself. His answer signified that such was his opinion also. So far we were agreed; but when I told him that it was my wish to study the law, he answered with sufficient, and as I thought, scornful abruptness:-- “The law, indeed! What puts the law into your head? What preparations have you made to study the law? You know nothing of languages which every lawyer should know--Latin--” I interrupted him to say that I had some slight knowledge of Latin--sufficient, I fancied, for all legal purposes. “Ah! indeed! where did you get it?” “A friend lent me a grammar and dictionary, and I studied myself.” “Oh, you are ambitious; but you deceive yourself. You were never made for a lawyer. Besides, how are you to live while prosecuting your studies? No, no! I have been thinking of something for you, Edward--and, just now, it happens fortunately that old Squire Farmer, the bricklayer, wants some apprentices--” I could scarcely listen thus far. “I thank you, sir, but I have no disposition to be a bricklayer.” “You must do something for yourself. You can not expect to eat the bread of idleness. I have done, and will do for you what I can--whatever is necessary;--but I have my own family to provide for. I can not rob my own child---”