[Illustration]
"The lively attention to the misfortunes of another, which is called
_Compassion_, causes the eyebrows to sink towards the middle of the
forehead; the eyeball to be fixed upon the object; the sides of the
nostrils next the nose, to be a little elevated, making wrinkles in the
cheeks; the mouth to be open; the upper lip to be lifted up, and thrust
forward; the muscles, and all the parts of the face sinking down, and
turning towards the object which cause the passion.
"Yes, this is indeed the portrait of the scholar looking at the infant
in the cradle. What an assemblage of the noblest sentiments of the human
mind produce _Compassion_--love, tenderness and care for the
object--self is for the time totally forgotten. How different, my dear
children, is this face from that of the surly bailiff!
"The officers now took their leave, with each a servile bow, when the
poor widow, overcome by the kindness and generosity of the young
scholar, fell upon her knees, and invited her little children to do the
like, that they might thank God for having sent an angel to their
succour; while the old man, who was sitting by the fireside, lifted up
his hands in a silent prayer to Heaven, and wept for joy.
"The young scholar embraced the mother and all her little ones, among
whom he generously distributed the remainder of the louis in his purse,
and then took his leave, promising to see them again very soon.
"Henry mounted his horse amidst the acclamations of the people, who had
surrounded the house, and had heard of the way in which he had employed
his time. _Dieu vous benira_, 'God will bless you,' was reiterated from
every mouth.
"The young scholar kept his promise, for he often visited the cottage of
the poor widow, and represented her amiableness and situation in such
lively colours to the marchioness his mother, that she took the whole
family under her protection, placed them in a little way of business,
and helped them until by their own industry they had made themselves
independent.
"This, my dear children, was true generosity. The object was worthy: the
donor had the means to make happy; none were injured by the gift; no
just claims were left unpaid, and a poor family were made happy.
"This narrative will show you also, my dear children, the power and
goodness of the Almighty, who, by his Providence, ordered it so, that
what appeared to the poor widow as her greatest misfortune should turn
out to be the very means of affording her and her children a future
provision, and that much more ample than she could have expected. Thus,
my dear children, '_Providence, when none appears, can find itself a
way._'"
Mr. Willock had no sooner finished his story, than he had the pleasure
to observe his young people occupied in very serious reflections on what
they had heard. "My dear children," said he, "I am very much pleased for
the attention you have paid, and for the interest you have taken in the
misfortunes of the good widow. I shall leave you to enjoy the thoughts
of her good fortune, and of the change produced in her affairs by the
generosity of the young scholar. To-morrow evening, I will tell you a
story of another kind, where I shall have to represent to you some of
the worst of the passions of the human mind, such as you will hate and
detest, when you see their ugliness and deformity."
The next evening Mr. Willock resumed his office of lecturer, and was
fully attended by the young family.
"I am now," said he, "going to tell you a story, in which the passions
of horror, terror or fright, anger, hatred or jealousy, and despair,
will be represented; it is called
_The Wicked Baron, and Nicholas the Honest Wood-cutter._
"In the South part of the forest of Dean, in Gloucestershire, there
lived, many years ago, a poor wood-cutter, named Nicholas; he was not
more than thirty years of age, of a handsome figure, lusty, and strong.
Nicholas was rough and sturdy as an oak, but bent as tenderly to the
tale of distress as the gourd to the wind; he was apt, it is true, to be
a little ill-tempered at times, and somewhat sour; besides being a
little rude and unfashioned in his manners; but somehow or other, so
finely delineated were the characters of nature and truth in his mind,
that the outlines might be seen in his face, whenever distress or
misfortune claimed his protection.
"Nicholas had a wife named Gertrude, and she was naturally a good woman,
though she would fret and scold whenever they happened to be poor, which
was no uncommon case with them: they had nothing but hard labour to
trust to for support, and had a young boy to provide for; besides, it
unfortunately happened for both of them, that Gertrude was the daughter
of a once-wealthy farmer, but who had been ruined by a murrain among his
cattle. Gertrude had therefore received a little better education than
Nicholas, who could, however, read and write, a great wonder in those
days, and which he owed, when a boy, to the kind instructions of a good
old monk. Gertrude, who recollected her father's happy board, was
rather out of temper with her situation, and so foolish, as to be
constantly wishing for riches, and pining after wealth, which was never
likely to come to her share.
"It happened one night, after Nicholas had returned home from work, and
finding Gertrude cross, that something like the following conversation
took place between them; but, my dear children, you must avoid this
manner of speaking, which is only used among poor country people.
'My dear, how ill-tempered you are!' cried Nicholas.--'I may well be ill
tempered,' replied Gertrude; 'this is the last meal we shall have this
week.'--'That is more than you know, my dear,' answered her husband.--'I
am almost famished, I am,' cried Gertrude.--'Look at the poor cat, and
make yourself happy, my dear,' replied Nicholas.--'Well, there's your
supper,' cried Gertrude, taking a small piece of meat from the
pot.--'Supper do you call it,' answered Nicholas; 'why there's scarcely
enough to bait a mouse-trap: but wont you take a bit, my dear?'--'I
shant touch any of it,' answered Gertrude, peevishly.--'Well, for my
part,' replied Nicholas, 'I'll say grace even for this morsel.'
"Nicholas said all he could to put his wife in a good humour, but was
not lucky enough to succeed. She took it into her head that he was
bantering of her, and began to sob and cry, reproaching him with
bringing her into poverty.--'But it serves me right,' cried she. 'I
might have married a rich yeoman, so I might, and have had plenty, that
I might.'--'Shu, nonsense,' answered Nicholas. 'To throw myself away
upon a chopper of wood,' cried she; 'and there too, we have had to bring
up that idle boy, because, truly, you found him laid in the forest one
night.'--'Now don't say a word about that,' answered Nicholas, 'or I
shall get as ill-tempered as yourself, out of mere good nature.'
"While the wood-cutter and his wife were scolding in this way, some one
knocked loudly at the door, when after some more words about who should
open it, Nicholas went, and a stranger very elegantly dressed entered
the cottage. It was a tempest, and the night very dark.
'Good people,' said the stranger, 'will you afford a traveller shelter
from the storm?'--'Willingly, sir,' answered Nicholas.--'Very willingly,
sir,' interrupted Gertrude; 'wont you be pleased to sit down, sir?'
"The stranger was the rich Norman Baron de la Braunch.--'Well,' cried
he, 'Nicholas, how does fortune use thee?'--'Roughly enough,
sir.'--'Heaven knows,' replied Gertrude.--'Who told you to speak?'
interrupted Nicholas. 'My wife, sir, is always grumbling; she must,
forsooth, be longing after riches; and though I don't remember, by the
goodness of Providence, that we have ever wanted a meal, yet she is
always talking about starving.'--'Ay, ay, nobody knows what I suffer, I
am sure,' replied Gertrude; 'I might have married a rich yeoman, that I
might.'--'Come, come, good people,' cried the Baron, 'be better tempered
with each other: and do you think, good woman, that riches would make
you happy?'--'That they would, sir,' answered Gertrude; 'for rich folks
can eat and drink whatever they've a mind to, and can dress as they
please; and then they can feed ever so many poor people, and can make
ever so many folks happy.'--'Ah, ah, so they might, wife,' answered
Nicholas, 'and yet not be happy themselves, after all.'--'Well now, I
can't see how that can be,' replied Gertrude. 'I am sure I should like
hugely to be rich, and to have a castle, and forests, and deer of my
own, and plenty of servants.'--'And you are quite certain that you would
be happy if you were rich?' repeated the Baron.--'Yes, sir,' cried
Gertrude; 'and I would never scold my poor Nicholas any more, for he is
as good a creature as ever was in the world, though I was angry with him
just now; and to say the truth, I do not believe that he could have got
any more work to-day if he had tried ever so; but when one is poor, and
there is no meat in the pot, one is apt to be a little vexed and cross.'
"Nicholas wiped his eyes at this kind atonement of his wife Gertrude.
"The Baron went into a deep reverie--the storm was over--the Baron
arose, he pulled out a purse and put it into Gertrude's hand, and then
wished them a good-night.--Nicholas offered to see him through the
forest, but he declined the offer.
"The instant the Baron had left the cottage, Gertrude run to the lamp to
examine the purse; it was full of gold coin. 'Blessed St. Anthony,'
cried she, 'what is this? all gold! Nicholas, look here; see what
Providence has done for us.'--'Ay, I told you so,' answered Nicholas,
'and you are always grumbling.'--'Nay now, don't be cross, Nicholas,'
said Gertrude, 'when we've had so much good luck; look at it, Nicholas,
'tis all pure gold. I'll have a new dress, and, I'll go and wake poor
Henry, and tell him that he shall have a new coat.'--'And what am I to
have?' cried Nicholas.--'You shall see us all clean and happy.'--'Thank
ye,' answered the honest wood-cutter, 'that's all I want.'--'And we
will have a good piece of meat in the pot to-morrow,' cried
Gertrude.--'And I am sure you wont sleep to night,' answered
Nicholas.--'That I shant,' said she: 'well, who knows what good luck is
to follow?'--'Peace, Gertrude,' cried Nicholas, 'may not this money be a
temptation?'--'May it, Nicholas?'--'Who knows?' said Nicholas.--'If I
thought so,' answered Gertrude, 'I would not touch it.'--'Come, come,'
cried Nicholas, 'while it don't make us covetous after more, and lead us
to do wrong, we shall have nothing to fear. For my part, I shall work
the same as ever; but don't grumble, Gertrude.'--'You shall never hear a
cross word from me,' answered Gertrude.
"Thus did these poor cottagers end their discourse, and both sat down to
supper, pleased and happy; but they could neither of them rest at night
for thinking of their riches.
"Very different sentiments disturbed the repose of the Baron; he had
arrived at the height of his ambition; he was one of the richest knights
in the kingdom; enjoyed a good fame, and had the favour of the king: yet
he was not happy; he was a miserable wretch; the honesty and dignity of
a good mind was wanting; he was restless and disturbed in the possession
of wealth, and would almost have parted with the whole of it, again to
have been innocent.
"One day, about a twelvemonth after this time, Nicholas was at work in
the woods, with his boy Henry. A stranger had inquired for him at the
cot; Gertrude had directed him to the place where Nicholas was felling
trees. On the stranger's approach, he heard a man scolding--'What,'
cried he, 'do you think I am to keep you for nothing, you little lazy
monkey? why don't you get another withy, and bind up these faggots?'--'I
am at work, as fast as I can,' answered the boy, 'but you are so cross.
If you are tired of keeping me, I'll leave you to-morrow, and seek for
support elsewhere.'--'Leave me, that you shant,' cried Nicholas; 'I
found you in the forest one night, laid on the turf, a poor helpless
brat; humanity made me take you in; and though I am apt to be sour at
times, I have enough of the same humanity left to prevent your ever
being turned out.'--'You have, indeed, been very kind to me,' answered
the boy.'--'Well, shake hands, Henry,' said Nicholas, 'and think no more
of what has past.'
"When the stranger entered the close, he addressed Nicholas--'Come,'
said he, 'you must leave off and go with me.'--'Truly not I,' said
Nicholas, 'for I have not quite done.'--'No matter, thou must go to the
cottage. I have good news to tell thee.'--'Nay, if that be the case,'
said Nicholas, 'it is worth half a day's work; so here's pack
up.'--Nicholas proceeded with the stranger, and the boy Henry followed.
"On their arrival at the cottage, Gertrude welcomed her husband home,
and prepared a place for the stranger, who prefaced what he had to say
with some remarks on the extraordinary changes and vicissitudes of human
life; and then inquired if they remembered a stranger, of more than
common appearance, who had visited them one stormy night, about a
twelvemonth before?
"Nicholas and Gertrude both answered him, and told him of the present
they had received from that person.
'Now,' cried the stranger to Nicholas, 'I know that thou art truly the
man whom I seek; prepare to go with me to the castle of La Braunch,
thou, and thy wife and family.'--'Indeed, sir, you'll excuse me there,'
cried Nicholas; 'I shall not stir out any more to-day.'--'Do not be so
obstinate,' replied the stranger, 'for know, that he who gave you the
money a twelvemonth since, was the Baron de la Braunch.--He is dead, and
you are heir to all his rich demesnes.'--'I don't rightly understand
you,' answered the wood-cutter.--'The castle, the lands, all his real
and personal estate, is thine.'--'My dear, don't you understand the
gentleman?' cried Gertrude.--'Not I, in good faith,' answered
Nicholas.--'Why, don't you know that you have come to be a rich man, and
that the rich Baron has left you all that he was worth in the
world?'--'It is true, indeed,' answered the stranger; 'I am witness to
the will. When the Baron was dying, he desired a scroll of parchment to
be brought out of his library: his order was instantly obeyed--"This
scroll," said he, fixing his eye steadily upon it, "is my will. Thou
wilt find," said he, "in the forest of Dean, a solitary cottage,
inhabited by a wood-cutter and his wife. The name of the wood-cutter is
Nicholas; the name of his wife is Gertrude. These people are poor; they
wish for riches, and they _shall be_ rich; they shall be the heirs of
the Baron de la Braunch; who knows, perhaps to them riches may be a
blessing."--The Baron affixed his seal to the parchment, and soon after
expired in the arms of father Benedict.
'Well,' cried Nicholas, 'and what will become of me? What can I do with
all these riches?'--'Do with them; leave that to me,' said Gertrude,
quite overjoyed.--'I don't want to be put out of my way,' said
Nicholas.--Poor Gertrude, in the innocence of her heart, stopped the
mouth of her husband--'Dear Nicholas, do not affront the gentleman; I am
sure that I should like to be a lady very much; and to be sure I did
think that there was something very odd in the stranger's behaviour to
us that night, and took it into my head that he would do something for
us, though to be sure I did not think that he would die and leave us all
his wealth; but this gentleman would not say so if it was not true; so,
Nicholas, if you must be a rich man after all, why you must not mind a
little trouble.'--'Well,' replied Nicholas, 'if it must be so, there's
no help for it.'
"The stranger had provided a cloak, with a hat and a sword, with which
he accoutred the poor wood-cutter; and also a decent robe, which he
threw over the shoulders of Gertrude.
"Nicholas would not go without the boy Henry; so they shut up the
cottage, and set out together. It was late when they arrived at the
castle; they were conducted to a room provided for them, by the
direction of the stranger, who was the Baron's esquire Hathbrand, when
having caused one of the wardrobes of the Baron to be opened, he
selected such of the plainest dresses as he thought would best become
Nicholas, Gertrude, and the young boy Henry. Gertrude was, however, very
desirous of being fine, and was also much pleased with the attention of
Ranetrude, the waiting-woman appointed to attend on her.
"Doric the old steward, Jonas the butler, and all the rest of the
servants, were ordered to get themselves in readiness the next morning,
to attend the reading of the Baron's will, and to receive their new
master.
"The story was already spread abroad, that the Baron had left his
immense wealth to a poor wood-cutter; and numerous were the remarks and
low witticisms on the subject, from old Doric, Jonas, and the other
servants, as they waited in the hall, among the numerous tenantry of the
Baron, to hear the will read, and to receive their new lord.
"At length Nicholas and Gertrude, attended by Hathbrand the squire, and
Ranetrude, entered the hall.--Nicholas saluted the domestics and tenants
without awkwardness, and stept forward without dismay.
"Hathbrand held the parchment in his hand; he spoke--My friends, peace
be with you all; I here produce the will of the late Baron de la
Braunch. Attend--"Know all men, that I the Baron de la Braunch, do give
and bequeath to Nicholas le Blanc, of the forest of Dean, all the real
and personal estate of which I now stand possessed, on condition that he
visits the third chamber in the western turret alone, there to unlock
the chest which contains the title-deeds, and that he never divulges the
secrets they will unfold." The third chamber in the western turret had
not been used for many years, as the eastern part of the castle had been
inhabited by the Baron.
"Nicholas ascended the western turret alone, and after some difficulty
opened the door of the third chamber, when he entered, and discovered in
a remote corner a large iron chest, the key of which was hanging near
the entrance. Nicholas attempted to open it; at length by an effort he
succeeded; he lifted up the lid, and took out a large scroll of
parchment. Nicholas read--'_The title of the Baron de la Braunch to
these demesnes is murder!_'
"Nicholas let fall the scroll, but recovered it again; he run into the
gallery, and then stood motionless.
"And now, my dear children," said Mr. Willock, "let us find something
like the face of honest Nicholas, when he was reading how bad a title he
had to the riches bequeathed him. Here it is, expressive of his
abhorrence of the crime, and of the object who left him his wealth. This
is the face of