The Works of Thomas Hood; Vol. 01 (of 11): Comic and Serious, in Prose and Verse, With All the Original IllustrationsHood, Thomas
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The Works of Thomas Hood; Vol. 01 (of 11): Comic and Serious, in Prose and Verse, With All the Original Illustrations
Hood, Thomas
English poetry -- 19th century; English wit and humor; Humorous poetry, English
It will do me no credit, I fear, with our active Abolitionists, to
confess, that the above little incident set me seriously thinking, for
the first time, on the condition of the Negro Apprentices. In addition
to my dread of becoming a _sidesman_--and there is a spirit abroad
which can convert even a black suit into a party-coloured one--I
am too apt to take matters upon trust, and to suppose that the name
stands for the thing. Thus, in my simple belief, the outward-bound and
the homeward-bound apprentices, conformed to the same or nearly the
same articles; and if I thought at all of the sable ones, it was as
walking abroad on Sundays, drest in all their best, only with Phœbe
or Miss Diana, instead of “Sally in our Alley.” A common sense of
the eternal principles of justice helped, beside, to mislead me; for
who, with a drachm of philosophy, or a scruple of Christianity, could
suppose, that whilst the accidents of colour are overlooked in a good
horse, the moral qualities of a human being were weighed down by such
skin-deep casualties as occur every day in a baker’s oven? The scene
in the Strand, however, aroused certain misgivings; and for the mere
repose of my mind, it became necessary to procure further information,
in order to come to a settled opinion on the subject. To this end, it
was desirable to obtain the sentiments of a Black Apprentice, or at
least of a Black, and of an Apprentice, and fortune favoured me in the
search. Having delivered my instructions to the tradesman, it occurred
to me to pay an overdue visit to a decayed kinswoman in the same
neighbourhood, and in whose family affairs I took a friendly interest.
She happened to be at home; and after a preliminary conversation on the
weather, and Mr. Murphy, and the current news of the day, the discourse
turned on her son Richard, whom she had recently articled to an
architect; she had doubts, she said, of his being exactly comfortable
in his situation, but it was no fault of hers, as he had been placed in
it at his own urgent instances, in proof whereof she handed to me the
following letter:--
MY DEAR MOTHER,
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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