Merrie England In The Olden Time, Vol. 1 (of 2)

confined to herself, I should cry, 'Content,'-for she who sows nettles and thorns is entitled to reap a stinging and

ay before him: the village church and grave-yard, and a row of ancient almshouses, the pious endowment of a bountiful widow, w

rt-weary, and foot-sore, claimed at the gates of these pious institutions ** (a few of which still remain in their primitive simplicity) his loaf, his lodging, and his groat, which were dispensed, ge

mation, there were

iven at the religi

very parish, di

re was a Church-hous

for dressing pr

nd were merry, and

me there too, and h

&c. Mr. A. Wood ass

shouses before the

n, opposite Christc

in England.

nded-is it just-is

ross at Winchester,

be such sumpt

the village; but their pastor must have known something of his story; for his voice faltered whilst reading the funeral service, and he was observed to weep. Uncle Timothy passed on, and continued his peregrination among the tombs. How grossly had the dead been libelled by the flattery of the living! Here was "a tender husband, a loving father, and an honest man," who certainly had never tumbled his wife out at window, kicked his children out of doors, or picked his neighbour's pocket in broad daylight on the King's highway; yet was he a hypocritical heartless old money-worshipper! There lay

mothy, "may I make my

nkind, unt

ttle boo

ho love me

me whe

mory of a gentle spirit, whom he mourned with a brother's love. Four lines were

thy name

vidence

s a mort

as an an

ft" had taken her daughter before she k

hey who cal

w fades t

essing are-

k into t

ng joys and

ful wing

ey blossom l

rs that e

of ministering angels was his firm belief and favourite theme, his secret prayer at this solemn moment was, that they might save him from the bodily and mental

r a wonder, had written an epitaph upon one

stone old N

ghs, and n

gone, and h

ws, and no

n one night, and though they had been several times rooted up, still, in one night, they all grew up again! Stones had been ignominiously cast upon it; and certain ancie

ms us (see note up

Old Plays) that "t

atan, written in

n (see News out of

le of Pope

ere was a general

s wept, the abbots

cried, the nuns pu

rang, the tapers we

s not seene a long

here said to be

as assuredly "a hymn

most favoured of h

ding the band, and

dd

d knows-perh

ranches over the tomb, which in one n

ig

mage to the highest potentate in Christendom for all the wealth and distinction that he or she could bestow, he felt his knees tremble under him at the sacredness of humble sorrow. He walked up the neat little flower garden, and having read the grateful memorial inscribed over the ancient doorway to

his comforted mourner. His address began with a simple question, w

additional comforts for his mother as were not contemplated by the pious foundress in those primitive times. He would hasten hither on beautiful summer evenings after the business of the day, to trim her little garden, surprise her with some frugal luxury, and see that she was happy. The Sabbath he never omitted passing under this roof, and he led her to my pew,-for she is a gentlewoman, sir,-where she sat with my family. Consumption seized his frame; and what priv

e only. But if at this particular moment his heart could

ned ground with

s employers were no-work-no-pay philanthropists, he was l

omforted him, and received his last sigh? Ah! sir-

poor! the mourn

thee, but tho

. The sun was setting in golden splendour, and tinged the deep blue clouds that appeared like mountai

g and the

emes of deep

il mortal!

is thy res

t resurrec

s as those

ognised me, smiled, and gently pressed my hand. 'Every misery missed,' he whispered, 'i

en brought by a heaven-appointed messenger. Something, however, remains to be done in a worldly sense. But I see our friend is on the eve of departure; what I was about to propose shall be submitted to him when we are alone. In the mean time, you will please to consider this humble roof but as a temporary home. It abounds in sad rememb

rried down the little garden, pausing for a moment