Meet us on:
Entire Site
    Try our fun game

    Dueling book covers…may the best design win!

    Random Quote
    "People say that life is the thing, but I prefer reading."

    Subscribe to Our Newsletter

    Follow us on Twitter

    Never miss a good book again! Follow Read Print on Twitter

    Chapter 50

    • Rate it:
    • Average Rating: 4.6 out of 5 based on 8 ratings
    • 7 Favorites on Read Print
    Launch Reading Mode Next Chapter
    Chapter 51
    Previous Chapter

    'Here we go up, up, up;

    And here we go down, down, downee!'


    Meanwhile, at Milton the chimneys smoked, the ceaseless roar and
    mighty beat, and dizzying whirl of machinery, struggled and
    strove perpetually. Senseless and purposeless were wood and iron
    and steam in their endless labours; but the persistence of their
    monotonous work was rivalled in tireless endurance by the strong
    crowds, who, with sense and with purpose, were busy and restless
    in seeking after--What? In the streets there were few
    loiterers,--none walking for mere pleasure; every man's face was
    set in lines of eagerness or anxiety; news was sought for with
    fierce avidity; and men jostled each other aside in the Mart and
    in the Exchange, as they did in life, in the deep selfishness of
    competition. There was gloom over the town. Few came to buy, and
    those who did were looked at suspiciously by the sellers; for
    credit was insecure, and the most stable might have their
    fortunes affected by the sweep in the great neighbouring port
    among the shipping houses. Hitherto there had been no failures in
    Milton; but, from the immense speculations that had come to light
    in making a bad end in America, and yet nearer home, it was known
    that some Milton houses of business must suffer so severely that
    every day men's faces asked, if their tongues did not, 'What
    news? Who is gone? How will it affect me?' And if two or three
    spoke together, they dwelt rather on the names of those who were
    safe than dared to hint at those likely, in their opinion, to go;
    for idle breath may, at such times, cause the downfall of some
    who might otherwise weather the storm; and one going down drags
    many after. 'Thornton is safe,' say they. 'His business is
    large--extending every year; but such a head as he has, and so
    prudent with all his daring!' Then one man draws another aside,
    and walks a little apart, and, with head inclined into his
    neighbour's ear, he says, 'Thornton's business is large; but he
    has spent his profits in extending it; he has no capital laid by;
    his machinery is new within these two years, and has cost him--we
    won't say what!--a word to the wise!' But that Mr. Harrison was a
    croaker,--a man who had succeeded to his father's trade-made
    fortune, which he had feared to lose by altering his mode of
    business to any having a larger scope; yet he grudged every penny
    made by others more daring and far-sighted.

    But the truth was, Mr. Thornton was hard pressed. He felt it
    acutely in his vulnerable point--his pride in the commercial
    character which he had established for himself. Architect of his
    own fortunes, he attributed this to no special merit or qualities
    of his own, but to the power, which he believed that commerce
    gave to every brave, honest, and persevering man, to raise
    himself to a level from which he might see and read the great
    game of worldly success, and honestly, by such far-sightedness,
    command more power and influence than in any other mode of life.
    Far away, in the East and in the West, where his person would
    never be known, his name was to be regarded, and his wishes to be
    fulfilled, and his word pass like gold. That was the idea of
    merchant-life with which Mr. Thornton had started. 'Her merchants
    be like princes,' said his mother, reading the text aloud, as if
    it were a trumpet-call to invite her boy to the struggle. He was
    but like many others--men, women, and children--alive to distant,
    and dead to near things. He sought to possess the influence of a
    name in foreign countries and far-away seas,--to become the head
    of a firm that should be known for generations; and it had taken
    him long silent years to come even to a glimmering of what he
    might be now, to-day, here in his own town, his own factory,
    among his own people. He and they had led parallel lives--very
    close, but never touching--till the accident (or so it seemed) of
    his acquaintance with Higgins. Once brought face to face, man to
    man, with an individual of the masses around him, and (take
    notice) out of the character of master and workman, in the first
    instance, they had each begun to recognise that 'we have all of
    us one human heart.' It was the fine point of the wedge; and
    until now, when the apprehension of losing his connection with
    two or three of the workmen whom he had so lately begun to know
    as men,--of having a plan or two, which were experiments lying
    very close to his heart, roughly nipped off without trial,--gave
    a new poignancy to the subtle fear that came over him from time
    to time; until now, he had never recognised how much and how deep
    was the interest he had grown of late to feel in his position as
    manufacturer, simply because it led him into such close contact,
    and gave him the opportunity of so much power, among a race of
    people strange, shrewd, ignorant; but, above all, full of
    character and strong human feeling.

    He reviewed his position as a Milton manufacturer. The strike a
    year and a half ago,--or more, for it was now untimely wintry
    weather, in a late spring,--that strike, when he was young, and
    he now was old--had prevented his completing some of the large
    orders he had then on hand. He had locked up a good deal of his
    capital in new and expensive machinery, and he had also bought
    cotton largely, for the fulfilment of these orders, taken under
    contract. That he had not been able to complete them, was owing
    in some degree to the utter want of skill on the part of the
    Irish hands whom he had imported; much of their work was damaged
    and unfit to be sent forth by a house which prided itself on
    turning out nothing but first-rate articles. For many months, the
    embarrassment caused by the strike had been an obstacle in Mr.
    Thornton's way; and often, when his eye fell on Higgins, he could
    have spoken angrily to him without any present cause, just from
    feeling how serious was the injury that had arisen from this
    affair in which he was implicated. But when he became conscious
    of this sudden, quick resentment, he resolved to curb it. It
    would not satisfy him to avoid Higgins; he must convince himself
    that he was master over his own anger, by being particularly
    careful to allow Higgins access to him, whenever the strict rules
    of business, or Mr. Thornton's leisure permitted. And by-and-bye,
    he lost all sense of resentment in wonder how it was, or could
    be, that two men like himself and Higgins, living by the same
    trade, working in their different ways at the same object, could
    look upon each other's position and duties in so strangely
    different a way. And thence arose that intercourse, which though
    it might not have the effect of preventing all future clash of
    opinion and action, when the occasion arose, would, at any rate,
    enable both master and man to look upon each other with far more
    charity and sympathy, and bear with each other more patiently and
    kindly. Besides this improvement of feeling, both Mr. Thornton
    and his workmen found out their ignorance as to positive matters
    of fact, known heretofore to one side, but not to the other.

    But now had come one of those periods of bad trade, when the
    market falling brought down the value of all large stocks; Mr.
    Thornton's fell to nearly half. No orders were coming in; so he
    lost the interest of the capital he had locked up in machinery;
    indeed, it was difficult to get payment for the orders completed;
    yet there was the constant drain of expenses for working the
    business. Then the bills became due for the cotton he had
    purchased; and money being scarce, he could only borrow at
    exorbitant interest, and yet he could not realise any of his
    property. But he did not despair; he exerted himself day and
    night to foresee and to provide for all emergencies; he was as
    calm and gentle to the women in his home as ever; to the workmen
    in his mill he spoke not many words, but they knew him by this
    time; and many a curt, decided answer was received by them rather
    with sympathy for the care they saw pressing upon him, than with
    the suppressed antagonism which had formerly been smouldering,
    and ready for hard words and hard judgments on all occasions.
    'Th' measter's a deal to potter him,' said Higgins, one day, as
    he heard Mr. Thornton's short, sharp inquiry, why such a command
    had not been obeyed; and caught the sound of the suppressed sigh
    which he heaved in going past the room where some of the men were
    working. Higgins and another man stopped over-hours that night,
    unknown to any one, to get the neglected piece of work done; and
    Mr. Thornton never knew but that the overlooker, to whom he had
    given the command in the first instance, had done it himself

    'Eh! I reckon I know who'd ha' been sorry for to see our measter
    sitting so like a piece o' grey calico! Th' ou'd parson would ha'
    fretted his woman's heart out, if he'd seen the woeful looks I
    have seen on our measter's face,' thought Higgins, one day, as he
    was approaching Mr. Thornton in Marlborough Street.

    'Measter,' said he, stopping his employer in his quick resolved
    walk, and causing that gentleman to look up with a sudden annoyed
    start, as if his thoughts had been far away.

    'Have yo' heerd aught of Miss Marget lately?'

    'Miss--who?' replied Mr. Thornton.

    'Miss Marget--Miss Hale--th' oud parson's daughter--yo known who
    I mean well enough, if yo'll only think a bit--' (there was
    nothing disrespectful in the tone in which this was said).

    'Oh yes!' and suddenly, the wintry frost-bound look of care had
    left Mr. Thornton's face, as if some soft summer gale had blown
    all anxiety away from his mind; and though his mouth was as much
    compressed as before, his eyes smiled out benignly on his

    'She's my landlord now, you know, Higgins. I hear of her through
    her agent here, every now and then. She's well and among
    friends--thank you, Higgins.' That 'thank you' that lingered
    after the other words, and yet came with so much warmth of
    feeling, let in a new light to the acute Higgins. It might be but
    a will-o'-th'-wisp, but he thought he would follow it and
    ascertain whither it would lead him.

    'And she's not getten married, measter?'

    'Not yet.' The face was cloudy once more. 'There is some talk of
    it, as I understand, with a connection of the family.'

    'Then she'll not be for coming to Milton again, I reckon.'


    'Stop a minute, measter.' Then going up confidentially close, he
    said, 'Is th' young gentleman cleared?' He enforced the depth of
    his intelligence by a wink of the eye, which only made things
    more mysterious to Mr. Thornton.

    'Th' young gentleman, I mean--Master Frederick, they ca'ad
    him--her brother as was over here, yo' known.'

    'Over here.'

    'Ay, to be sure, at th' missus's death. Yo' need na be feared of
    my telling; for Mary and me, we knowed it all along, only we held
    our peace, for we got it through Mary working. in th' house.'

    'And he was over. It was her brother!'

    'Sure enough, and I reckoned yo' knowed it or I'd never ha' let
    on. Yo' knowed she had a brother?'

    'Yes, I know all about him. And he was over at Mrs. Hale's

    'Nay! I'm not going for to tell more. I've maybe getten them into
    mischief already, for they kept it very close. I nobbut wanted to
    know if they'd getten him cleared?'

    'Not that I know of. I know nothing. I only hear of Miss Hale,
    now, as my landlord, and through her lawyer.'

    He broke off from Higgins, to follow the business on which he had
    been bent when the latter first accosted him; leaving Higgins
    baffled in his endeavour.

    'It was her brother,' said Mr. Thornton to himself. 'I am glad. I
    may never see her again; but it is a comfort--a relief--to know
    that much. I knew she could not be unmaidenly; and yet I yearned
    for conviction. Now I am glad!'

    It was a little golden thread running through the dark web of his
    present fortunes; which were growing ever gloomier and more
    gloomy. His agent had largely trusted a house in the American
    trade, which went down, along with several others, just at this
    time, like a pack of cards, the fall of one compelling other
    failures. What were Mr. Thornton's engagements? Could he stand?

    Night after night he took books and papers into his own private
    room, and sate up there long after the family were gone to bed.
    He thought that no one knew of this occupation of the hours he
    should have spent in sleep. One morning, when daylight was
    stealing in through the crevices of his shutters, and he had
    never been in bed, and, in hopeless indifference of mind, was
    thinking that he could do without the hour or two of rest, which
    was all that he should be able to take before the stir of daily
    labour began again, the door of his room opened, and his mother
    stood there, dressed as she had been the day before. She had
    never laid herself down to slumber any more than he. Their eyes
    met. Their faces were cold and rigid, and wan, from long

    'Mother! why are not you in bed?'

    'Son John,' said she, 'do you think I can sleep with an easy
    mind, while you keep awake full of care? You have not told me
    what your trouble is; but sore trouble you have had these many
    days past.'

    'Trade is bad.'

    'And you dread----'

    'I dread nothing,' replied he, drawing up his head, and holding
    it erect. 'I know now that no man will suffer by me. That was my

    'But how do you stand? Shall you--will it be a failure?' her
    steady voice trembling in an unwonted manner.

    'Not a failure. I must give up business, but I pay all men. I
    might redeem myself--I am sorely tempted--'

    'How? Oh, John! keep up your name--try all risks for that. How
    redeem it?'

    'By a speculation offered to me, full of risk; but, if
    successful, placing me high above water-mark, so that no one need
    ever know the strait I am in. Still, if it fails--'

    'And if it fails,' said she, advancing, and laying her hand on
    his arm, her eyes full of eager light. She held her breath to
    hear the end of his speech.

    'Honest men are ruined by a rogue,' said he gloomily. 'As I stand
    now, my creditors, money is safe--every farthing of it; but I
    don't know where to find my own--it may be all gone, and I
    penniless at this moment. Therefore, it is my creditors' money
    that I should risk.'

    'But if it succeeded, they need never know. Is it so desperate a
    speculation? I am sure it is not, or you would never have thought
    of it. If it succeeded--'

    'I should be a rich man, and my peace of conscience would be

    'Why! You would have injured no one.'

    'No; but I should have run the risk of ruining many for my own
    paltry aggrandisement. Mother, I have decided! You won't much
    grieve over our leaving this house, shall you, dear mother?'

    'No! but to have you other than what you are will break my heart.
    What can you do?'

    'Be always the same John Thornton in whatever circumstances;
    endeavouring to do right, and making great blunders; and then
    trying to be brave in setting to afresh. But it is hard, mother.
    I have so worked and planned. I have discovered new powers in my
    situation too late--and now all is over. I am too old to begin
    again with the same heart. It is hard, mother.'

    He turned away from her, and covered his face with his hands.

    'I can't think,' said she, with gloomy defiance in her tone, 'how
    it comes about. Here is my boy--good son, just man, tender
    heart--and he fails in all he sets his mind upon: he finds a
    woman to love, and she cares no more for his affection than if he
    had been any common man; he labours, and his labour comes to
    nought. Other people prosper and grow rich, and hold their paltry
    names high and dry above shame.'

    'Shame never touched me,' said he, in a low tone: but she went

    'I sometimes have wondered where justice was gone to, and now I
    don't believe there is such a thing in the world,--now you are
    come to this; you, my own John Thornton, though you and I may be
    beggars together--my own dear son!'

    She fell upon his neck, and kissed him through her tears.

    'Mother!' said he, holding her gently in his arms, 'who has sent
    me my lot in life, both of good and of evil?'

    She shook her head. She would have nothing to do with religion
    just then.

    'Mother,' he went on, seeing that she would not speak, 'I, too,
    have been rebellious; but I am striving to be so no longer. Help
    me, as you helped me when I was a child. Then you said many good
    words--when my father died, and we were sometimes sorely short of
    comforts--which we shall never be now; you said brave, noble,
    trustful words then, mother, which I have never forgotten, though
    they may have lain dormant. Speak to me again in the old way,
    mother. Do not let us have to think that the world has too much
    hardened our hearts. If you would say the old good words, it
    would make me feel something of the pious simplicity of my
    childhood. I say them to myself, but they would come differently
    from you, remembering all the cares and trials you have had to

    'I have had a many,' said she, sobbing, 'but none so sore as
    this. To see you cast down from your rightful place! I could say
    it for myself, John, but not for you. Not for you! God has seen
    fit to be very hard on you, very.'

    She shook with the sobs that come so convulsively when an old
    person weeps. The silence around her struck her at last; and she
    quieted herself to listen. No sound. She looked. Her son sate by
    the table, his arms thrown half across it, his head bent face

    'Oh, John!' she said, and she lifted his face up. Such a strange,
    pallid look of gloom was on it, that for a moment it struck her
    that this look was the forerunner of death; but, as the rigidity
    melted out of the countenance and the natural colour returned,
    and she saw that he was himself once again, all worldly
    mortification sank to nothing before the consciousness of the
    great blessing that he himself by his simple existence was to
    her. She thanked God for this, and this alone, with a fervour
    that swept away all rebellious feelings from her mind.

    He did not speak readily; but he went and opened the shutters,
    and let the ruddy light of dawn flood the room. But the wind was
    in the east; the weather was piercing cold, as it had been for
    weeks; there would be no demand for light summer goods this year.
    That hope for the revival of trade must utterly be given up.

    It was a great comfort to have had this conversation with his
    mother; and to feel sure that, however they might henceforward
    keep silence on all these anxieties, they yet understood each
    other's feelings, and were, if not in harmony, at least not in
    discord with each other, in their way of viewing them. Fanny's
    husband was vexed at Thornton's refusal to take any share in the
    speculation which he had offered to him, and withdrew from any
    possibility of being supposed able to assist him with the ready
    money, which indeed the speculator needed for his own venture.

    There was nothing for it at last, but that which Mr. Thornton had
    dreaded for many weeks; he had to give up the business in which
    he had been so long engaged with so much. honour and success; and
    look out for a subordinate situation. Marlborough Mills and the
    adjacent dwelling were held under a long lease; they must, if
    possible, be relet. There was an immediate choice of situations
    offered to Mr. Thornton. Mr. Hamper would have been only too glad
    to have secured him as a steady and experienced partner for his
    son, whom he was setting up with a large capital in a
    neighbouring town; but the young man was half-educated as
    regarded information, and wholly uneducated as regarded any other
    responsibility than that of getting money, and brutalised both as
    to his pleasures and his pains. Mr. Thornton declined having any
    share in a partnership, which would frustrate what few plans he
    had that survived the wreck of his fortunes. He would sooner
    consent to be only a manager, where he could have a certain
    degree of power beyond the mere money-getting part, than have to
    fall in with the tyrannical humours of a moneyed partner with
    whom he felt sure that he should quarrel in a few months.

    So he waited, and stood on one side with profound humility, as
    the news swept through the Exchange, of the enormous fortune
    which his brother-in-law had made by his daring speculation. It
    was a nine days' wonder. Success brought with it its worldly
    consequence of extreme admiration. No one was considered so wise
    and far-seeing as Mr. Watson.
    Next Chapter
    Chapter 51
    Previous Chapter
    If you're writing a Elizabeth Gaskell essay and need some advice, post your Elizabeth Gaskell essay question on our Facebook page where fellow bookworms are always glad to help!

    Top 5 Authors

    Top 5 Books

    Book Status
    Want to read

    Are you sure you want to leave this group?