IT was in that season of the year
when nature wears an universal gloom,
and the pinching frost arrests the running
stream in its course, and gives a[6]
massy solidity to the lake that lately
curled with every breeze, that Sir Filmer
Hopewell, having lost his road in
the Dale of Tiviot, was met by two
youths that swiftly skimmed the surface
of the slippery brook, and sought an
antidote against the inclement cold in
the wholesome though dangerous exercise
of skaiting. Of these hale and
ruddy young villagers he enquired his
road, or where he might meet with a
lodging for the night, for the sun was
declining in the shades of evening fast
encompassing the dale. They directed
him to the summit of a neighbouring
hill, on the declivity of which there
stood a small village, where probably[7]
[8]
[9]
he might meet with accommodation.
Though wearied and fatigued, this information
gave him vigour, and he hastened
up the hill, and soon beheld with
pleasure, beheld the sign of the Lion
and Dog; that on a lofty post invited
to the village ale-house. He entered it
a seasonable and salutary asylum from
the wintry blast, and was conducted
into a neat little parlour, with a cheerful
fire. Being seated, his host quickly
made his appearance, with such refreshment
as his house afforded. Sir Filmer,
on his first entering, immediately perceived
there was character in his countenance;
a quick dark eye and sharp
features that gave him that appearance[10]
of intellect, which is seldom found to
be belied upon further acquaintance.
He therefore gave him an invitation to
spend an hour or two with him; which
he accepted without hesitation: and
after taking a bumper to the health of
his guest, entertained him with numerous
anecdotes of the village.
"You must, at this inclement season," said Sir Filmer, "witness many scenes of distress, and have many calls upon your humanity." "Yes," replied the worthy man, the tear glistening in his eye, "to weep with those that weep, to lighten the burden of human woe, and to administer comfort to the dejected[11] soul, are offices, to the exercise of which, we have frequent calls. Having lived here for some years, and being well known, I am sometimes called to the houses of neighbouring peasants, in which poverty and affliction seem to have taken up their abode; yet, believe me, sir, I never return from those houses with greater pleasure, or with more heart-felt satisfaction, than when I think I have contributed my share in wiping away the falling tear, or whispering peace to the troubled breast.
"Small, however, sir, as the village is, it produces two characters, as opposite almost in their natures, as the darkness[12] of a stormy night is to the splendour of meridian day. These characters as they are unknown to you, allow me to introduce to your acquaintance, under the names of Austerus and Humanus; the former a man of callous soul; the latter one who thinks, and feels while he thinks.
"Austerus possesses a fortune of three thousand pounds a-year, has an elegant house, and keeps a large retinue.
"His lands yield abundant crops, and his flocks are heard bleating on the neighbouring hills. His tenants are pretty numerous, and his dependants many.
"One would imagine," says Sir Filmer, "this man was destined by heaven, as a blessing to the part of the country in which he lives; that the families around him, would hail him as their liberal benefactor, and that his domestics would bless the hour in which they entered his spacious hall."
"However natural this conclusion, Sir," replied the host, "it is far from being well founded. Extremely passionate, he rages and storms; and even after the storm has subsided, his face bespeaks the anger which he can ill conceal. Sour and austere, haughty and overbearing, he is dreaded by his servants,[14] and despised by all. His tenants, whose lands are rented to the full, barely subsist, and regret the moment they were so unfortunate as to tread the ground of hard oppression; one of which—poor man!—how often have I witnessed the tear drop from his eye, on the approach of quarter-day, when, with the spade in his hand, he ceased from toil, to awaken bitter reflections over the sad state of a destitute family.
"But what adds an indelible stain to
the character of Austerus, is that he is
hard-hearted to the poor, and unfeeling
to the sons of distress. It is a painful
truth, that his cane has been lifted up[15]
[16]
[17]
over the head of poverty, as it approached
his lordly door to beg a pittance.
What! O hardened Austerus! were
riches given thee to indulge thy pampered
carcase, and to steel thy heart
against thy poorer brethren? for the
shivering beggar at the gate is still thy
brother!
"This I have frequently witnessed with a poor old woman, who travels round the country with laces and other little things, and asks the boon of the wealthy, to enable her to exist; while his children, who dare not, with his knowledge, assist her, let down trifles from their chamber window, to relieve[18] this poor old creature, bent with the winters that have past over her head.
"Besides the poor, Sir, the afflicted, who are tossed on the bed of sickness, implore his assistance in vain. Pity is even denied them.
"I ventured once to recommend to him a peasant's family, in the neighbourhood, on whom affliction's rod had suddenly fallen, by sad accident. As they were boiling their frugal meal of potatoes, the vessel upset, and scalded the father and one of the children most dreadfully.
"While I related these circumstances[19]
[20]
[21]
to him, a tear, some how or other, had
forced its way down my cheek.
"He heard me with a shocking indifference; said he would think of it, and turned away rudely from me, though I assured him (what was too true, and aggravated his shame) that they resided in a corner of his own estate, and that their situation admitted of no delay. As he retired, I could perceive that he was indignant at my freedom."
Here the good landlord's looks betrayed his detestation of this unfeeling conduct; and while he thought of the miseries of this unfortunate family, he[22] exclaimed with the patriarch, "Cursed be his anger, for it was fierce; and his wrath, for it was cruel!" I envy not his crimson bed of state, nor his faring sumptuously every day, while he possesses an unfeeling heart and a niggardly soul.
"Better (says he) infinitely better, is that man, who, though his share of wealth may be more scanty, is blessed with a noble, a liberal heart; and such is Humanus.
"Humanus honours me with his acquaintance
and his confidence. I know
his heart and his feelings almost as well
as he knows them himself. Descended[23]
[24]
[25]
from worthy ancestors, he retains no
small portion of their virtues. Possessing
a moderate fortune, he has no idea
of extravagance. He lives in a neat little
house, adjoining a small freehold-farm,
which descended to him from his
father, and which has been held by one
family for many years, at a rent that enables
them to live comfortable, and to till
the land with pleasure.
Unlike the tenants of Austerus, this family is always cheerful; and the father, while he ploughs his fields, is frequently visited by his little prattlers, whom he looks upon with the greatest pleasure, while he stops his well-fed horses to mount them on his plough.
"Nor is it only among those with whom Humanus is immediately connected, that his benevolence is felt: he seems to walk about doing good, and is never so happy as when he sees all nature rejoice, and when, as is his custom, he is seen with his grandson, feeding the parent hen and her chickens: his benign countenance seems to say, The poor and needy, how should I like to shelter you under my wing, as the hen sheltereth her chickens.
"His charity is indeed wonderful.
It often puts me to the blush, when I reflect
how far I fall short of it. It was
but the other day that he said, "Come,[27]
[28]
[29]
let us make a short excursion." I followed
him. We entered a thatched cottage;
I shall never forget the sight, nor
the part the good Humanus acted on
that occasion.
"On a low bed lay the very picture of wretchednes, that seemed to say, "I fly to the grave as the end of my sorrows." The feeling Humanus, whose very soul is sympathy, with soft steps approached the bed of the sufferer, his eyes full of tears, his heart oppressed with grief: "Live, (cried he) Heaven is kind! Who can tell what happiness is in reserve for you! I go to send for the physician, and shall immediately return.[30] Humanus hurried home to give directions to his servant, and came quickly back. His attentions were now renewed to the afflicted mother, for she was the wife of a poor thresher, who rises at the crowing of the cock, and toils till the going down of the sun, to maintain a numerous family.
"He now ordered some wine, which
he had brought with him, to be administered
with success: and the arrival
of the doctor, who expressed hopes of
her recovery, changed, I could perceive,
the face of my friend; the joy of his heart
shone forth in his countenance; and never
did he appear in my eyes more worthy[31]
[32]
[33]
and more amiable. Happy Humanus!
said I to myself; the rewards of virtue
are sure. Thou already enjoyest those
within thy own breast, and Heaven has
still greater ones in store for thee. May
thy laudable example become more universal!
He repeated, frequently his visits
to the humble dwelling; nor were those
visits dropped till he saw there was little
occasion for them: and the wife of
the poor thresher is now recovered from
a dangerous fever, as much through
the sympathy of the good Humanus, as
through the skill of the physician, his
tender heart prompted him to send to
her aid. She now lives useful to children;
and her poor little Betty is no longer[34]
seen weeping on the village green, for
the distressed state of her suffering
mother. The flail of the father now
awakens echo with the dawn of the
morning, and he goes on with his work
rejoicing; and the whole family is often
heard to pray heaven's richest blessing
on the head of their compassionate
friend and benefactor. Such are the
charming effects of beneficence, and,
such the disposition of Humanus!"
So finished our landlord his tale, and Sir Filmer prepared for bed. I shall only ask my young reader whether, upon a review of the two characters, he would be an Austerus, or an Humanus?—a sordid, selfish being, or one who[35] possesses a generous, a heaven-born soul? If he would wish to be the latter, let him endeavour to make all around him happy, and frequently call to mind the distresses of human life—the solitary cottage, and the weeping orphan—for graceful in youth is the tear of sympathy, and benign its influence on the sons of affliction.