Henry Mackenzie, 1745-1831, was born in Edinburgh, educated at the
university there, and died in the same city. He was an attorney by
profession, and was the associate of many famous literary men residing at
that time in Edinburgh. His fame as a writer rests chiefly on two novels,
"The Man of Feeling" and "The Man of the World;" both were published
before the author was forty years old.
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Harley sat down on a large stone by the wayside, to take a pebble from his
shoe, when he saw, at some distance, a beggar approaching him. He had on a
loose sort of coat, mended with different-colored rags, among which the
blue and russet were predominant. He had a short, knotty stick in his
hand, and on the top of it was stuck a ram's horn; he wore no shoes, and
his stockings had entirely lost that part of them which would have covered
his feet and ankles; in his face, however, was the plump appearance of
good humor; he walked a good, round pace, and a crook-legged dog trotted
at his heels.
"Our delicacies," said Harley to himself, "are fantastic; they are not in
nature! That beggar walks over the sharpest of these stones barefooted,
whilst I have lost the most delightful dream in the world from the
smallest of them happening to get into my shoe." The beggar had by this
time come up, and, pulling off a piece of a hat, asked charity of Harley.
The dog began to beg, too. It was impossible to resist both; and, in
truth, the want of shoes and stockings had made both unnecessary, for
Harley had destined sixpence for him before.
The beggar, on receiving it, poured forth blessings without number; and,
with a sort of smile on his countenance, said to Harley that if he wanted
to have his fortune told--Harley turned his eye briskly upon the beggar;
it was an unpromising look for the subject of a prediction, and silenced
the prophet immediately. "I would much rather learn" said Harley, "what it
is in your power to tell me. Your trade must be an entertaining one; sit
down on this stone, and let me know something of your profession; I have
often thought of turning fortune teller for a week or two, myself."
"Master," replied the beggar, "I like your frankness much, for I had the
humor of plain dealing in me from a child; but there is no doing with it
in this world,--we must do as we can; and lying is, as you call it, my
profession. But I was in some sort forced to the trade, for I once dealt
in telling the truth. I was a laborer, sir, and gained as much as to make
me live. I never laid by, indeed, for I was reckoned a piece of a wag, and
your wags, I take it, are seldom rich, Mr. Harley." "So," said Harley,
"you seem to know me." "Ay, there are few folks in the country that I do
n't know something of. How should I tell fortunes else?" "True,--but go on
with your story; you were a laborer, you say, and a wag; your industry, I
suppose, you left with your old trade; but your humor you preserved to be
of use to you in your new."
"What signifies sadness, sir? A man grows lean on 't. But I was brought to
my idleness by degrees; sickness first disabled me, and it went against my
stomach to work, ever after. But, in truth, I was for a long time so weak
that I spit blood whenever I attempted to work. I had no relation living,
and I never kept a friend above a week when I was able to joke. Thus I was
forced to beg my bread, and a sorry trade I have found it, Mr. Harley. I
told all my misfortunes truly, but they were seldom believed; and the few
who gave me a half-penny as they passed, did it with a shake of the head,
and an injunction not to trouble them with a long story. In short, I found
that people do n't care to give alms without some security for their
money,--such as a wooden leg, or a withered arm, for example. So I changed
my plan, and instead of telling my own misfortunes, began to prophesy
happiness to others.
"This I found by much the better way. Folks will always listen when the
tale is their own, and of many who say they do not believe in fortune
telling, I have known few on whom it had not a very sensible effect. I
pick up the names of their acquaintance; amours and little squabbles are
easily gleaned from among servants and neighbors; and, indeed, people
themselves are the best intelligencers in the world for our purpose. They
dare not puzzle us for their own sakes, for everyone is anxious to hear
what he wishes to believe; and they who repeat it, to laugh at it when
they have done, are generally more serious than their hearers are apt to
imagine. With a tolerably good memory, and some share of cunning, I
succeed reasonably well as a fortune teller. With this, and showing the
tricks of that dog, I make shift to pick up a livelihood.
"My trade is none of the most honest, yet people are not much cheated
after all, who give a few half-pence for a prospect of happiness, which I
have heard some persons say, is all a man can arrive at in this world. But
I must bid you good day, sir; for I have three miles to walk before noon,
to inform some boarding-school young ladies whether their husbands are to
be peers of the realm or captains in the army; a question which I promised
to answer them by that time."
Harley had drawn a shilling from his pocket; but Virtue bade him to
consider on whom he was going to bestow it. Virtue held back his arm; but
a milder form, a younger sister of Virtue's, not so severe as Virtue, nor
so serious as Pity, smiled upon him; his fingers lost their compression;
nor did Virtue appear to catch the money as it fell. It had no sooner
reached the ground than the watchful cur (a trick he had been taught)
snapped it up; and, contrary to the most approved method of stewardship,
delivered it immediately into the hands of his master.