Chapter VIII (2)

"With the first ray of morning the three companions arose, and Sophron, leading them along the skirts of the mountains where bushes and brushwood concealed them from observation, and still following the windings of a river as a guide, they at length came to a cultivated spot, though deserted by its inhabitants from the fear of the party they had lately escaped. Here they made a slight and hasty repast upon some coarse provisions which they found, and instantly struck again into the woods, which they judged safer than the plain. But Sophron fortunately recollected that he had formerly visited this village with his father, while yet a child, and before the country had suffered the rage of barbarous invasions. It was a long day's march from home, but, by exerting all their strength, they at length arrived, through rough and secret paths, at the hospitable cottage where Sophron and his parents dwelt. Here they were joyfully received, as the long absence of the young man had much alarmed his parents, and made all the hamlet anxious concerning his safety. That night they comfortably reposed in a place of safety, and the next morning, after a plentiful but coarse repast, the father of Sophron again congratulated his guests upon their fortunate escape, and entreated them to let him hear the history of their misfortunes.

"'I can refuse nothing,' said the venerable stranger, 'to persons to whom I am under such extraordinary obligations, although the history of my life is short and simple, and contains little worthy to be recited. My name is _Chares_; and I was born in one of the maritime cities of Asia, of opulent parents, who died while I was yet a youth. The loss of my parents, to whom I was most affectionately attached, made so strong an impression upon my mind that I determined to seek relief in travel, and for that purpose sold my paternal estate, the price of which I converted into money and jewels, as being most portable. My father had been a man distinguished for his knowledge and abilities, and from him I imbibed an early desire of improvement, which has always been my greatest comfort and support.

"'The first place, therefore, which I visited was Egypt, a country renowned in every age for its invention of all the arts which contribute to support or adorn human life. There I resided several years, giving up my time to the study of philosophy, and to the conversation of the many eminent men who resorted thither from all the regions of the world. This country is one immense plain, divided by the Nile, which is one of the noblest rivers in the world, and pours its tide along the middle of its territory. Every year, at a particular season, the stream begins gradually to swell with such an increase of waters, that at length it rises over its banks, and the whole extent of Egypt becomes an immense lake, where buildings, temples, and cities appear as floating upon the inundation. Nor is this event a subject of dread to the inhabitants; on the contrary, the overflowing of their river is a day of public rejoicing to all the natives, which they celebrate with songs and dances, and every symptom of extravagant joy. Nor is this to be wondered at, when you are informed that this inundation renders the soil which it covers the most abundant in the world. Whatever land is covered by the waters, receives such an increase of fertility, as never to disappoint the hopes of the industrious husbandman. The instant the waters have retired the farmer returns to his fields and begins the operation of agriculture. These labours are not very difficult in a soft and yielding slime, such as the river leaves behind it. The seeds are sown, and vegetate with inconceivable rapidity, and, in a few weeks, an abundant harvest of every kind of grain covers the land. For this reason all the necessaries of life are easily procured by the innumerable multitudes which inhabit the country. Nor is the climate less favourable than the soil; for here an eternal spring and summer seem to have fixed their abode. No frost nor snow is ever known to chill the atmosphere, which is always perfumed with the smell of aromatic plants that grow on every side, and bring on a pleasing forgetfulness of human care. But, alas! these blessings, great as they may appear, produce the effect of curses upon the inhabitants. The ease and plenty which they enjoy, enervate their manners, and destroy all vigour both of body and mind. No one here is inflamed with the sacred love of his country, or of public liberty; no one is inured to arms, or taught to prefer his honour to his life;--the great business of existence is an inglorious indolence, a lethargy of mind, and a continual suspense from all exertion. The very children catch the contagion from their parents; they are instructed in every effeminate art--to dance in soft unmanly attitudes; to modulate their voices by musical instruments, and to adjust the floating drapery of their dress. These are the arts in which both sexes are instructed from their infancy; but no one is taught to wield the arms of men, to tame the noble steeds in which the country abounds, to observe his rank in war, or to bear the indispensable hardships of a military life. Hence this celebrated country, which has been in every age the admiration of mankind, is destined to the most degrading servitude. A few thousand disciplined troops are sufficient to hold the many millions it contains in bondage, under which they groan, without ever conceiving the design of vindicating their natural rights by arms.'----

"'Unhappy people,' exclaimed Sophron, 'how useless to them are all the blessings of their climate! How much rather would I inhabit the stormy top of Lebanon, amid eternal snows and barrenness, than wallow in the vile sensuality of such a country, or breathe an air infected by its vices!'

"Chares was charmed with the generous indignation of Sophron, and thus continued: 'I was of the same opinion with yourself, and therefore determined to leave a country which all its natural advantages could not render agreeable, when I became acquainted with the manners of its inhabitants. But before I quitted that part of the globe, my curiosity led me to visit the neighbouring tribes of Arabia--a nation bordering upon the Egyptians, but as different in spirits and manners as the hardy shepherds of these mountains from the effeminate natives of the plains. Egypt is bounded on one side by the sea; on every other it is surrounded by immense plains or gentle eminences, which, being beyond the fertilizing inundations of the Nile, have been, beyond all memory, converted into waste and barren sands by the excessive heat of the sun. I therefore made preparations for my journey, and hired a guide, who was to furnish me with beasts of burden, and accompany me across those dreary deserts. We accordingly began our march, mounted upon camels, which are found much more useful than horses in such a burning climate.'"----

"Indeed," said Tommy here to Mr Barlow, "I am sorry to interrupt the story; but I shall be much obliged to you, sir, if you will inform me what kind of an animal a camel is?"

"The camel," answered Mr Barlow, "is chiefly found in those burning climates which you have heard described. His height is very great, rising to fourteen or fifteen feet, reckoning to the top of his head; his legs are long and slender, his body not large, and his neck of an amazing length. This animal is found in no part of the world that we are acquainted with, wild or free; but the whole race is enslaved by man, and brought up to drudgery from the first moment of their existence. As soon as he is born, they seize him, and force him to recline upon the ground, with his legs doubled up under his belly. To keep him in this attitude, they extend a piece of canvass over his body, and fix it to the ground by laying heavy weights upon the edge. In this manner he is tutored to obedience, and taught to kneel down at the orders of his master, and receive the burthens which he is destined to transport. In his temper he is gentle and tractable, and his patience in bearing thirst and hunger is superior to that of any animal we are acquainted with. He is driven across the burning desert, loaded with the merchandise of those countries, and frequently does not even find water to quench his thirst for several days. As to his food, it is nothing but a few herbs, which are found in the least barren parts of the deserts, and prickly bushes, upon which he browses as a delicacy; sometimes he does not find even these for many days, yet pursues his journey with a degree of patience which is hardly credible."

"'--We mounted our camels,' continued Chares, 'and soon had reached the confines of the fertile plains of Egypt. The way, as we proceeded, grew sensibly more dreary and disagreeable, yet was sometimes varied with little tufts of trees and scanty patches of herbage; but these at length entirely disappeared, and nothing was seen on every side but an immense extent of barren sands, destitute of vegetation, and parched by the continual heat of the sun. No sound was heard to interrupt the dreary silence that reigned around; no traces of inhabitants perceivable, and the gloomy uniformity of the prospect inspired the soul with melancholy. In the meantime the sun seemed to shoot down perpendicular rays upon our heads, without a cloud to mitigate his violence. I felt a burning fever take possession of my body. My tongue was scorched with intolerable heat, and it was in vain I endeavoured to moisten my mouth with repeated draughts of water. At night we came to a little rising ground, at the foot of which we perceived some aquatic herbs and a small quantity of muddy water, of which our camels took prodigious draughts; here we spread our tents and encamped for the night. With the morning we pursued our journey; but had not proceeded far before we saw a cloud of dust that seemed to rise along the desert; and as we approached nearer, we easily distinguished the glitter of arms that reflected the rising sun. This was a band of the Arabians that had discovered us, and came to know our intentions. As they advanced they spurred their horses, which are the most fleet and excellent in the world, and bounded along the desert with the lightness of an antelope; at the same time they brandished their lances, and seemed prepared alike for war or peace; but when they saw that we had neither the intention nor the power to commit hostilities, they stopped their coursers at the distance of a few paces from us, and he that appeared the chief advanced, and, with a firm but mild tone of voice, inquired into the reason of our coming. It was then that I took the liberty of addressing him in his own language, to which I had for some time applied myself before my journey. I explained to him my curiosity, which led me to observe in person the manners of a people who are celebrated over the whole world for having preserved their native simplicity unaltered, and their liberty unviolated, amidst the revolutions which agitate all the neighbouring nations. I then offered him the loading of my camel, which I had brought, not as being worthy his acceptance, but as a slight testimony of my regard, and concluded with remarking, that the fidelity of the Arabians in observing their engagements was unimpeached in a single instance; and therefore, relying upon the integrity of my own intentions, I had come a painful journey, unarmed, and almost alone, to put myself into their power, and demand the sacred rights of hospitality.

"'While I was thus speaking, he looked at me with penetration that seemed to read into my very soul; and, when I had finished, he extended his arm with a smile of benevolence, and welcomed me to their tribe, telling me, at the same time, that they admitted me as their guest, and received me with the arms of friendship; that their method of life, like their manners, was coarse and simple, but that I might consider myself as safer in their tents, and more removed from violence or treachery, than in the crowded cities which I had left. The rest of the squadron then approached, and all saluted me as a friend and brother. We then struck off across the desert, and, after a few hours' march, approached the encampment where they had left their wives and children.

"'This people is the most singular, and, in many respects, the most admirable of all that inhabit this globe of earth. All other nations are subject to revolutions and the various turns of fortune; sometimes they wage successful wars; sometimes they improve in the arts of peace; now they are great and reverenced by their neighbours; and now, insulted and despised, they suffer all the miseries of servitude. The Arabians alone have never been known to vary in the smallest circumstance, either of their internal policy or external situation. They inhabit a climate which would be intolerable to the rest of the human species for its burning heat, and a soil which refuses to furnish any of the necessaries of life. Hence they neither plough the earth, nor sow, nor depend upon corn for their subsistence, nor are acquainted with any of the mechanic arts; they live chiefly upon the milk of their herds and flocks, and sometimes eat their flesh. These burning deserts are stretched out to an immense extent on every side, and these they consider as their common country, without having any fixed or permanent abode. Arid and barren as are these wilds in general, there are various spots which are more productive than the rest; here are found supplies of water, and some appearances of vegetation; and here the Arabians encamp till they have exhausted the spontaneous products of the soil. Besides, they vary their place of residence with the different seasons of the year. When they are in perfect friendship with their neighbours, they advance to the very edges of the desert, and find more ample supplies of moisture and herbage. If they are attacked or molested, the whole tribe is in motion in an instant, and seeks a refuge in their impenetrable recesses. Other nations are involved in various pursuits of war, or government, or commerce; they have made a thousand inventions of luxury necessary to their welfare, and the enjoyment of these they call _happiness_. The Arab is ignorant of all these things, or, if he knows them, he despises their possession. All his wants, his passions, his desires, terminate in one object, and that object is the preservation of his liberty. For this purpose he contents himself with a bare sufficiency of the coarsest and simplest food; and the small quantity of clothing which he requires in such a climate, is fabricated by the women of the tribe, who milk the cattle and prepare the food of their husbands, and require no other pleasures than the pleasing interest of domestic cares. They have a breed of horses superior to any in the rest of the globe for gentleness, patience, and unrivalled swiftness; this is a particular passion and pride of the Arabian tribes. These horses are necessary to them in their warlike expeditions, and in their courses along the deserts. If they are attacked, they mount their steeds, who bear them with the rapidity of a tempest to avenge their injuries; or, should they be overmatched in fight, they soon transport them beyond the possibility of pursuit. For this reason the proudest monarchs and greatest conquerors have in vain attempted to subdue them. Troops accustomed to the plenty of a cultivated country, are little able to pursue these winged warriors over the whole extent of their sandy wastes. Oppressed with heat, fainting for want of water, and spent with the various difficulties of the way, the most numerous armies have been destroyed in such attempts; and those that survived the obstacles of nature were easily overcome by the repeated attacks of the valiant natives.

"'While I was in this country I was myself witness to an embassy that was sent from the neighbouring prince, who imagined that the fame of his exploits had struck the Arabians with terror, and disposed them to submission. The ambassador was introduced to the chief of the tribe, a venerable old man, undistinguished by any mark of ostentation from the rest, who received him sitting cross-legged at the door of his tent. He then began to speak, and, in a long and studied harangue, described the power of his master, the invincible courage of his armies, the vast profusion of arms, of warlike engines, and military stores, and concluded with a demand that the Arabians should submit to acknowledge him as their lord, and pay a yearly tribute.

"'At this proud speech the younger part of the tribe began to frown with indignation, and clash their weapons in token of defiance; but the chief himself, with a calm and manly composure, made this reply: 'I expected, from the maturity of your age, and the gravity of your countenance, to have heard a rational discourse, befitting you to propose and us to hear. When you dwelt so long upon the power of your master, I also imagined that he had sent to us to propose a league of friendship and alliance, such as might become equals, and bind man more closely to his fellows. In this case the Arabians, although they neither want the assistance, nor fear the attacks of any king or nation, would gladly have consented, because it has been always their favourite maxim, neither to leave injuries unpunished, nor to be outdone in kindness and hospitality. But since you have come thus far to deliver a message which must needs be disagreeable to the ears of free-born men, who acknowledge no superior upon earth, you may thus report the sentiments of the Arabians to him that sent you. You may tell him that, as to the land which we inhabit, it is neither the gift of him nor any of his forefathers; we hold it from our ancestors, who received it in turn from theirs, by the common laws of nature, which has adapted particular countries and soils, not only to man, but to all the various animals which she has produced. If, therefore, your king imagines that he has a right to retain the country which he and his people now inhabit, by the same tenure do the Arabians hold the sovereignty of these barren sands, where the bones of our ancestors have been buried, even from the first foundation of the world. But you have described to us, in pompous language, the extraordinary power and riches of your king; according to you, he not only commands numerous and well-appointed troops of warlike men, furnished with every species of military stores, but he also possesses immense heaps of gold, silver, and other precious commodities, and his country affords him an inexhaustible supply of corn, and oil, and wine, and all the other conveniences of life. If, therefore, these representations be false, you must appear a vain and despicable babbler, who, being induced by no sufficient reason, have come hither of your own accord to amuse us--a plain and simple race of men--with specious tales and fables; but, if your words be true, your king must be equally unjust and foolish, who, already possessing all these advantages, doth still insatiably grasp after more; and, enjoying so many good things with ease and security to himself, will rather put them to all the hazard than repress the vain desires of his own intolerable avarice. As to the tribute which you have demanded, what you have already seen of the Arabians and their country affords you a sufficient answer. You see that we have neither cities, nor fields, nor rivers, nor wine, nor oil; gold and silver are equally unknown among us; and the Arabians, abandoning all these things to other men, have, at the same time, delivered themselves from the necessity of being slaves, which is the general law by which all mortals retain their possession. We have, therefore, nothing which we can send as a tribute but the sand of these our deserts, and the arrows and lances with which we have hitherto defended them from all invaders. If these are treasures worthy of his acceptance, he may lead his conquering troops to take possession of our country. But he will find men who are not softened by luxury, or vanquished by their own vices; men who prize their liberty at a dearer rate than all other mortals do their riches or their lives, and to whom dishonour is more formidable than wounds and death. If he can vanquish such men, it will, however, become his prudence to reflect whether he can vanquish the obstacles which nature herself has opposed to his ambition. If he should attempt to pass our deserts, he will have to struggle with famine and consuming thirst, from which no enemy has hitherto escaped, even when he has failed to perish by the arrows of the Arabians.''----

"'Happy and generous people,' exclaimed Sophron, 'how well do they deserve the liberty they enjoy! With such sentiments they need not fear the attack of kings or conquerors. It is the vices of men, and not the weakness of their nature, that basely enslave them to their equals; and he that prizes liberty beyond a few contemptible pleasures of his senses may be certain that no human force can ever bereave him of so great a good.'

"'Such sentiments,' replied Chares, 'convince me that I have not made a false estimate of the inhabitants of these mountainous districts. It is for this reason that I have been so particular in the description of Egypt and Arabia. I wished to know whether the general spirit of indolence and pusillanimity had infected the hardy inhabitants of Lebanon; but from the generous enthusiasm which animates your countenance at the recital of noble actions, as well as from what I have experienced you are capable of attempting, I trust that these solitary scenes are uninfected with the vices that have deluged the rest of Asia, and bent its inhabitants to the yoke'"----

Here the impatience of Tommy, which had been increasing a considerable time, could no longer be restrained, and he could not help interrupting the story, by addressing Mr Barlow thus: "Sir, will you give me leave to ask you a question?"

_Mr Barlow._--As many as you choose.

_Tommy._--In all these stories which I have heard, it seems as if those nations that have little or nothing are more good-natured, and better and braver than those that have a great deal.

_Mr Barlow._--This is indeed sometimes the case.

_Tommy._--But, then, why should it not be the case here, as well as in other places? Are all the poor in this country better than the rich?

"It should seem," answered Mr Barlow, smiling, "as if you were of that opinion."

_Tommy._--Why so, sir?

_Mr Barlow._--Because, whatever you want to have done, I observe that you always address yourself to the poor, and not to the rich.

_Tommy._--Yes, sir; but that is a different case. The poor are used to do many things which the rich never do.

_Mr Barlow._--Are these things useful or not useful?

_Tommy._--Why, to be sure, many of them are extremely useful; for, since I have acquired so much knowledge, I find they cultivate the ground, to raise corn; and build houses; and hammer iron, which is so necessary to make everything we use; besides feeding cattle, and dressing our victuals, and washing our clothes, and, in short, doing everything which is necessary to be done.

_Mr Barlow._--What! do the poor do all these things?

_Tommy._--Yes, indeed, or else they never would be done. For it would be a very ungenteel thing to labour at a forge like a blacksmith, or hold the plough like the farmer, or build a house like a bricklayer.

_Mr Barlow._--And did not you build a house in my garden some little time ago?

_Tommy._--Yes, sir; but that was only for my amusement; it was not intended for anybody to live in.

_Mr Barlow._--So you still think it is the first qualification of a gentleman never to do anything useful; and he that does anything with that design, ceases to be a gentleman?

Tommy looked a little ashamed at this; but he said it was not so much his own opinion as that of the other young ladies and gentlemen with whom he had conversed.

"But," replied Mr Barlow, "you asked just now which were the best--the rich or the poor? But if the poor provide food and clothing, and houses, and everything else, not only for themselves but for all the rich, while the rich do nothing at all, it must appear that the poor are better than the rich."

_Tommy._--Yes, sir; but then the poor do not act in that manner out of kindness, but because they are obliged to it.

_Mr Barlow._--That, indeed, is a better argument than you sometimes use. But tell me which set of people would you prefer; those that are always doing useful things because they are obliged to it, or those who never do anything useful at all?

_Tommy._--Indeed, sir, I hardly know what to say; but, when I asked the question, I did not so much mean the doing useful things. But now I think of it, the rich do a great deal of good by buying the things of the poor, and giving them money in return.

_Mr Barlow._--What is money?

_Tommy._--Money, sir; money is----I believe, little pieces of silver and gold, with a head upon them.

_Mr Barlow._--And what is the use of those little pieces of silver and gold?

_Tommy._--Indeed, I do not know that they are of any use; but everybody has agreed to take them; and therefore you may buy with them whatever you want.

_Mr Barlow._--Then, according to your last account, the goodness of the rich consists in taking from the poor houses, clothes, and food, and giving them in return little bits of silver and gold, which are really good for nothing.

_Tommy._--Yes, sir; but then the poor can take these pieces of money and purchase everything which they want.

_Mr Barlow._--You mean, that if a poor man has money in his pocket, he can always exchange it for clothes, or food, or any other necessary?

_Tommy._--Indeed, I do, sir.

_Mr Barlow._--But whom must he buy them of? for according to your account, the rich never produce any of these things; therefore the poor, if they want to purchase them, can only do so of each other.

_Tommy._--But, sir, I cannot think that is always the case; for I have been along with my mamma to shops, where there were fine powdered gentlemen and ladies that sold things to other people, and livery-servants, and young ladies that played on the harpsichord, like Miss Matilda.

_Mr Barlow._--But, my good little friend, do you imagine that these fine powdered gentlemen and ladies made the things which they sold?

_Tommy._--That, sir, I cannot tell, but I should rather imagine not; for all the fine people I have ever seen are too much afraid of spoiling their clothes to work.

_Mr Barlow._--All that they do, then, is to employ poorer persons to work for them, while they only sell what is produced by their labour. So that still you see we reach no farther than this; the rich do nothing and produce nothing, and the poor everything that is really useful. Were there a whole nation of rich people, they would all be starved, like the Spaniard in the story, because no one would condescend to produce anything; and this would happen in spite of all their money, unless they had neighbours who were poorer to supply them. But a nation that was poor might be industrious, and gradually supply themselves with all they wanted; and then it would be of little consequence whether they had pieces of metal with heads upon them or not. But this conversation has lasted long enough at present; and, as you are now going to bed, I daresay Miss Simmons will be so good as to defer the remainder of her story until to-morrow.

The next day Tommy rose before his father and mother; and, as his imagination had been forcibly acted on by the description he had heard of the Arabian horsemen, he desired his little horse might be saddled, and that William, his father's man, would attend him upon a ride. Unfortunately for Tommy, his vivacity was greater than his reason, and his taste for imitation was continually leading him into some mischief or misfortune. He had no sooner been introduced into the acquaintance of genteel life, than he threw aside all his former habits, and longed to distinguish himself as a most accomplished young gentleman. He was now, in turn, sickened and disgusted with fashionable affectation; and his mind, at leisure for fresh impressions, was ready to catch at the first new object which occurred. The idea, therefore, which presented itself to his mind, as soon as he opened his eyes, was that of being an Arabian horseman. Nothing, he imagined, could equal the pleasure of guiding a fiery steed over those immense and desolate wastes which he had heard described. In the meantime, as the country where he wished to exhibit was at too great a distance, he thought he might excite some applause even upon the common before his father's house.

Full of this idea he rose, put on his boots, and summoned William to attend him. William had been too much accustomed to humour all his caprices to make any difficulty of obeying him; and as he had often ridden out with his young master before, he did not foresee the least possible inconvenience. But the maternal care of Mrs Merton had made it an indispensable condition with her son, that he should never presume to ride with spurs; and she had strictly enjoined all the servants never to supply him with those dangerous accoutrements. Tommy had long murmured in secret at this prohibition, which seemed to imply a distrust of his abilities in horsemanship, which sensibly wounded his pride. But since he had taken it into his head to emulate the Arabs themselves, and perhaps excel them in their own art, he considered it as no longer possible to endure the disgrace. But, as he was no stranger to the strict injunction which had been given to all the servants, he did not dare to make the experiment of soliciting their assistance.

While he was in this embarrassment a new and sudden expedient presented itself to his fertile genius, which he instantly resolved to adopt. Tommy went to his mamma's maid, and without difficulty, obtained from her a couple of the largest-sized pins, which he thrust through the leather of his boots, and, thus accoutred, he mounted his horse without suspicion or observation.

Tommy had not ridden far before he began to give vent to his reigning passion, and asked William if he had ever seen an Arabian on horseback. The answer of William sufficiently proved his ignorance, which Tommy kindly undertook to remove by giving him a detail of all the particulars he had heard the preceding night; but, unfortunately, the eloquence of Tommy precipitated him into a dangerous experiment; for, just as he was describing their rapid flight across the deserts, the interest of his subject so transported him that he closed his legs upon his little horse, and pricked him in so sensible a manner, that the pony, who was not deficient in spirit, resented the attack, and set off with him at a prodigious rate.

William, when he saw his master thus burst forth, was at a loss whether to consider it an accident or only an oratorical grace; but seeing the horse hurrying along the roughest part of the common, while Tommy tugged in vain to restrain his efforts, he thought it necessary to endeavour to overtake him, and therefore pursued him with all the speed he could use. But the pony, whose blood seemed to be only the more inflamed by the violence of his own exertions, ran the faster when he heard the trampling of another horse behind him.

In this manner did Tommy scamper over the common, while William pursued in vain; for, just as the servant thought he had reached his master, his horse would push forward with such rapidity as left his pursuer far behind. Tommy kept his seat with infinite address; but he now began seriously to repent of his own ungovernable ambition, and would, with the greatest pleasure, have exchanged his own spirited steed for the dullest ass in England.

The race had now endured a considerable time, and seemed to be no nearer to a conclusion, when, on a sudden, the pony turned short, upon an attempt of his master to stop him, and rushed precipitately into a large bog or quagmire, which was full before him; here he made him a momentary halt, and Tommy wisely embraced the opportunity of letting himself slide off upon a soft and yielding bed of mire. The servant now came up to Tommy and rescued him from his disagreeable situation, where, however, he had received no other damage than that of daubing himself all over.

William had been at first very much frightened at the danger of his master; but when he saw that he had so luckily escaped all hurt, he could not help asking him, with a smile, whether this too was a stroke of Arabian horsemanship? Tommy was a little provoked at this reflection upon his horsemanship; but, as he had now lost something of his irritability by repeated mortification, he wisely repressed his passion, and desired William to catch his horse, while he returned homewards on foot to warm himself. The servant, therefore, endeavoured to approach the pony, who, as if contented with the triumph he had obtained over his rider, was quietly feeding at a little distance; but the instant William approached, he set off again at a violent rate, and seemed disposed to lead him a second chase not inferior to the first.

In the meantime Tommy walked pensively along the common, reflecting on the various accidents which had befallen him, and the repeated disappointments he had found in all his attempts to distinguish himself. While he was thus engaged, he overtook a poor and ragged figure, the singularity of whose appearance engaged his attention. It was a man of middle age, in a dress he had never seen before, with two poor children that seemed with difficulty to keep up with him, while he carried a third in his arms, whose pale emaciated looks sufficiently declared disease and pain. The man had upon his head a coarse blue bonnet instead of a hat; he was wrapped round by a tattered kind of garment, striped with various colours, and at his side hung down a long and formidable sword.

Tommy surveyed him with such an earnest observation, that at length the man took notice of it, and, bowing to him with the greatest civility, ventured to ask him if he had met with any accident, that he appeared in a disorder which suited so little with his quality. Tommy was not a little pleased with the discernment of the man, who could distinguish his importance in spite of the dirtiness of his clothes, and therefore mildly answered, "No, friend, there is not much the matter. I have a little obstinate horse that ran away with me, and after trying in vain to throw me down, he plunged into the middle of that great bog there, and so I jumped off for fear of being swallowed up, otherwise I should soon have made him submit, for I am used to such things, and don't mind them in the least."

Here the child that the man was carrying began to cry bitterly, and the father endeavoured to pacify him, but in vain. "Poor thing," said Tommy, "he seems to be unwell; I am heartily sorry for him!" "Alas! master," answered the man, "he is not well, indeed; he has now a violent ague fit upon him, and I have not had a morsel of bread to give him or any of the rest since yesterday noon."

Tommy was naturally generous, and now his mind was unusually softened by the remembrance of his own recent distresses; he therefore pulled a shilling out of his pocket and gave it to the man, saying, "Here, my honest friend, here is something to buy your child some food, and I sincerely wish he may soon recover." "God bless your sweet face!" said the man; "you are the best friend I have seen this many a day; but for this kind assistance we might have been all lost." He then, with many bows and thanks, struck across the common into a different path, and Tommy went forward, feeling a greater pleasure at this little act of humanity than he had long been acquainted with among all the fine acquaintance he had lately contracted.

But he had walked a very little way with these reflections before he met with a new adventure. A flock of sheep was running, with all the precipitation which fear could inspire, from the pursuit of a large dog; and just as Tommy approached, the dog had overtaken a lamb, and seemed disposed to devour it. Tommy was naturally an enemy to all cruelty, and therefore, running towards the dog with more alacrity than prudence, he endeavoured to drive him from his prey; but the animal, who probably despised the diminutive size of his adversary, after growling a little while and showing his teeth, when he found that this was not sufficient to deter him from intermeddling, entirely quitted the sheep, and making a sudden spring, seized upon the skirt of Tommy's coat, which he shook with every expression of rage. Tommy behaved with more intrepidity than could have been expected, for he neither cried out nor attempted to run, but made his utmost efforts to disengage himself from his enemy. But, as the contest was so unequal, it is probable he would have been severely bitten, had not the honest stranger, whom he had relieved, come running up to his assistance, and seeing the danger of his benefactor, laid the dog dead at his feet by a furious stroke of his broadsword.

Tommy, thus delivered from impending danger, expressed his gratitude to the stranger in the most affectionate manner, and desired him to accompany him to his father's house, where he and his wearied children should receive whatever refreshment they wished. He then turned his eyes to the lamb, which had been the cause of the contest, and lay panting upon the ground bleeding and wounded, but not to death, and remarked, with astonishment, upon his fleece the well-known characters of H.S., accompanied with a cross. "As I live," said Tommy, "I believe this is the very lamb which Harry used to be so fond of, and which would sometimes follow him to Mr Barlow's. I am the luckiest fellow in the world, to have come in time to deliver him, and now, perhaps, Harry may forgive me all the ill-usage he has met with." Saying this, he took the lamb up and kissed it with the greatest tenderness; nay, he would have even borne it home in his arms had it not been rather too heavy for his strength; but the honest stranger, with a grateful officiousness, offered his services, and prevailed on Tommy to let him carry it, while he delivered his child to the biggest of his brothers.

When Tommy had now arrived within a little distance of his home he met his father and Mr Barlow, who had left the house to enjoy the morning air, before breakfast. They were surprised to see him in such an equipage, for the dirt, which had bespattered him from head to foot, began to dry in various places, and gave him the appearance of a farmer's clay-built wall in the act of hardening. But Tommy without giving them time to make inquiries, ran affectionately up to Mr Barlow, and taking him by the hand, said, "Oh, sir! here is the luckiest accident in the world! poor Harry Sandford's favourite lamb would have been killed by a great mischievous dog, if I had not happened to come by and save his life!" "And who is this honest man," said Mr Merton, "whom you have picked up on the common? He seems to be in distress, and his famished children are scarcely able to drag themselves along."

"Poor man!" answered Tommy, "I am very much obliged to him; for, when I went to save Harry's lamb, the dog attacked me, and would have hurt me very much if he had not come to my assistance and killed him with his great sword. So I have brought him with me that he might refresh himself with his poor children, one of which has a terrible ague; for I knew, papa, that though I had not behaved well of late, you would not be against my doing an act of charity." "I am, on the contrary, very glad," said Mr Merton, "to see you have so much gratitude in your temper. But what is the reason that I see you thus disfigured with dirt? Surely you must have been riding, and your horse has thrown you? And so it is, for here is William following with both the horses in a foam."

William at that moment appeared, and, trotting up to his master, began to make excuses for his own share in the business. "Indeed, sir," said he, "I did not think there was the least harm in going out with Master Tommy, and we were riding along as quietly as possible, and master was giving me a long account of the Arabs, who, he said, lived in the finest country in the world, which does not produce anything to eat or drink, or wear, and yet they never want to come upon the parish, but ride upon the most mettled horses in the world, fit to start for any plate in England. And just as he was giving me this account, Punch took it into his head to run away, and while I was endeavouring to catch him, he jumped into a quagmire, and shot Master Tommy off in the middle of it." "No," said Tommy, "there you mistake; I believe I could manage a much more spirited horse than Punch, but I thought it prudent to throw myself off for fear of his plunging deeper into the mire." "But how is this?" said Mr Merton, "the pony used to be the quietest of horses; what can have given him this sudden impulse to run away? Surely, William, you were not so imprudent as to trust your master with spurs?" "No, sir," answered William, "not I; and I can take my oath he had no spurs on when he first set out."

Mr Merton was convinced there was some mystery in this transaction, and, looking at his son to find it out, he at length discovered the ingenious contrivance of Tommy to supply the place of spurs, and could hardly preserve his gravity at the sight. He, however, mildly set before him his imprudence, which might have been attended with the most fatal consequences--the fracture of his limbs, or even the loss of his life--and desired him for the future to be more cautious. They then returned to the house, and Mr Merton ordered his servants to supply his guests with plenty of the most nourishing food.

After breakfast they sent for the unhappy stranger into the parlour, whose countenance now bespoke satisfaction and gratitude; and Mr Merton, who, by his dress and accent, discovered him to be an inhabitant of Scotland, desired to know by what accident he had thus wandered so far from home with these poor helpless children, and had been reduced to so much misery.

"Alas! your honour," answered the man, "I should ill deserve the favours you have shown me if I attempted to conceal anything from such worthy benefactors. My tale, however, is simple and uninteresting, and I fear there can be nothing in the story of my distress the least deserving of your attention."

"Surely," said Mr Merton, with the most benevolent courtesy, "there must be something in the distress of every honest man which ought to interest his fellow-creatures; and if you will acquaint us with all the circumstances of your situation, it may perhaps be within our power, as it certainly is in our inclinations, to do you further service."

The man then bowed to the company with an air of dignity which surprised them all, and thus began: "I was born in that part of our island which is called the North of Scotland. The country there, partly from the barrenness of the soil, and the inclemency of the season, and partly from other causes which I will not now enumerate, is unfavourable to the existence of its inhabitants. More than half of the year our mountains are covered with continual snows, which prohibit the use of agriculture, or blast the expectations of a harvest; yet the race of men which inhabit these dreary wilds are perhaps not more undeserving the smiles of fortune than many of their happier neighbours. Accustomed to a life of toil and hardship, their bodies are braced by the incessant difficulties they have to encounter, and their minds remain untainted by the example of their more luxurious neighbours; they are bred up from infancy with a deference and respect for their parents, and with a mutual spirit of endearment towards their equals, which I have not remarked in happier climates. These circumstances expand and elevate the mind, and attach the Highlanders to their native mountains with a warmth of affection which is scarcely known in the midst of polished cities and cultivated countries. Every man there is more or less acquainted with the history of his clan, and the martial exploits which they have performed. In the winter season we sit around the blazing light of our fires, and commemorate the glorious actions of our ancestors; the children catch the sound, and consider themselves as interested in supporting the honour of a nation which is yet unsullied in the annals of the world, and resolve to transmit it equally pure to their posterity.

"With these impressions, which were the earliest I can remember, you cannot wonder, gentlemen, that I should have early imbibed a spirit of enterprise and a love of arms. My father was indeed poor, but he had been himself a soldier, and therefore did not so strenuously oppose my growing inclination; he, indeed, set before me the little chance I should have of promotion, and the innumerable difficulties of my intended profession. But what were difficulties to a youth brought up to subsist upon a handful of oatmeal, to drink the waters of the stream, and to sleep shrouded in my plaid, beneath the arch of an impending rock! I see, gentlemen," continued the Highlander, "that you appear surprised to hear a man, who has so little to recommend him, express himself in rather loftier language than you are accustomed to among your peasantry here. But you should remember that a certain degree of education is more general in Scotland than where you live, and that, wanting almost all the gifts of fortune, we cannot afford to suffer those of nature to remain uncultivated. When, therefore, my father saw that the determined bent of my temper was towards a military life, he thought it vain to oppose my inclinations. He even, perhaps, involuntarily cherished them, by explaining to me, during the long leisure of our dreary winter, some books which treated of military sciences and ancient history. From these I imbibed an early love of truth and honour, which I hope has not abandoned me since, and by teaching me what brave and virtuous men have suffered in every age and country, they have, perhaps, prevented me from entirely sinking under my misfortunes.

"One night, in the autumn of the year, as we were seated round the embers of our fire, we heard a knocking at the door. My father rose, and a man of a majestic presence came in, and requested permission to pass the night in our cottage. He told us he was an English officer, who had long been stationed in the Highlands, but now, upon the breaking out of war, he had been sent for in haste to London, whence he was to embark for America as soon as he could be joined by his regiment. 'This,' said he, 'has been the reason of my travelling later than prudence permits, in a mountainous country, with which I am imperfectly acquainted. I have unfortunately lost my way, and but for your kindness,' added he, smiling, 'I must here begin my campaign, and pass the night upon a bed of heath amid the mountains.' My father rose, and received the officer with all the courtesy he was able (for in Scotland every man thinks himself honoured by being permitted to exercise his hospitality); he told him his accommodations were mean and poor, but what he had was heartily at his service. He then sent me to look after his visitor's horse, and set before him some milk and oaten bread, which were all the dainties we possessed; our guest, however, seemed to feed upon it with an appetite as keen as if he had been educated in the Highlands; and what I could not help remarking with astonishment, although his air and manners proved that he could be no stranger to a more delicate way of living, not a single word fell from him that intimated he had ever been used to better fare.

"During the evening our guest entertained us with various accounts of the dangers he had already escaped, and the service he had seen. He particularly described the manners of the savage tribes he was going to encounter in America, and the nature of their warfare. All this, accompanied with the tone and look of a man who was familiar with great events, and had borne a considerable share in all he related, so inflamed my military ardour, that I was no longer capable of repressing it. The stranger perceived it, and looking at me with an air of tenderness and compassion, asked if that young man was intended for the service. My colour rose, and my heart immediately swelled at the question; the look and manner of our guest had strangely interested me in his favour, and the natural grace and simplicity with which he related his own exploits, put me in mind of the great men in other times. Could I but march under the banner of such a leader I thought nothing would be too arduous to be achieved. I saw before me a long perspective of combats, difficulties, and dangers; something, however, whispered to my mind that I should be successful in the end, and support the reputation of our name and clan. Full of these ideas I sprang forwards at the question, and told the officer that the darling passion of my life would be to bear arms under a chief like him; and that, if he would suffer me to enlist under his command, I should be ready to justify his kindness by patiently supporting every hardship, and facing every danger. 'Young man,' replied he, with a look of kind concern, 'there is not an officer in the army that would not be proud of such a recruit; but I should ill betray the hospitality I have received from your parents, if I suffered you to be deceived in your opinion of the military profession.' He then set before me, in the strongest language, all the hardships which would be my lot; the dangers of the field, the pestilence of camps, the slow consuming languor of hospitals, the insolence of command, the mortification and subordination, and the uncertainty that the exertions of even a long life would ever lead to the least promotion. 'All this,' replied I, trembling with fear that my father should take advantage of these too just representations to refuse his consent, 'I knew before; but I feel an irresistible impulse within me which compels me to the field. The die is cast for life or death, and I will abide by the chance that now occurs. If you, sir, refuse me, I will, however, enlist with the first officer that will accept me; for I will no longer wear out life amid the solitude of these surrounding mountains, without either a chance of meriting applause or distinguishing my name.'