The Newcomes: Memoirs of a Most Respectable FamilyThackeray, William Makepeace
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The Newcomes: Memoirs of a Most Respectable Family
Thackeray, William Makepeace
Domestic fiction; Families -- England -- Fiction
Clive’s amusements, studies, or occupations, such as they were, filled
his day pretty completely, and caused the young gentleman’s time to
pass rapidly and pleasantly, his father, it must be owned, had no such
resources, and the good Colonel’s idleness hung heavily upon him. He
submitted very kindly to this infliction, however, as he would have
done to any other for Clive’s sake; and though he may have wished
himself back with his regiment again, and engaged in the pursuits in
which his life had been spent, he chose to consider these desires as
very selfish and blameable on his part, and sacrificed them resolutely
for his son’s welfare. The young fellow, I dare say, gave his parent no
more credit for his long self-denial, than many other children award to
theirs. We take such life-offerings as our due commonly. The old French
satirist avers that, in a love affair, there is usually one person who
loves, and the other, _qui se laisse aimer;_ it is only in later days,
perhaps, when the treasures of love are spent, and the kind hand cold
which ministered them, that we remember how tender it was; how soft to
soothe; how eager to shield; how ready to support and caress. The ears
may no longer hear, which would have received our words of thanks so
delightedly. Let us hope those fruits of love, though tardy, are yet
not all too late; and though we bring our tribute of reverence and
gratitude, it may be to a gravestone, there is an acceptance even there
for the stricken heart’s oblation of fond remorse, contrite memories,
and pious tears. I am thinking of the love of Clive Newcome’s father
for him (and, perhaps, young reader, that of yours and mine for
ourselves); how the old man lay awake, and devised kindnesses, and gave
his all for the love of his son; and the young man took, and spent, and
slept, and made merry. Did we not say at our tale’s commencement that
all stories were old? Careless prodigals and anxious elders have been
from the beginning:—and so may love, and repentance, and forgiveness
endure even till the end.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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