Part 3
George Wither, the author of the above lines, was several times subjected to long and severe imprisonment for his political opinions. While in the Marshalsea prison in 1613, he wrote his ‘Shepherd’s Hunting,’ a pastoral poem, from which this is an extract. The verses are not only beautiful in themselves, but they point out how a vigorous mind will secure happiness under the most unfavourable circumstances. The imagination of Wither was delighted to repose upon the most common natural objects;--and in the same way, the man who possesses the least of the outward gifts of fortune, if his faculties be awake to the beauties which nature has so plenteously scattered around his path, may possess in himself a source of pleasure of the purest kind. The rapture which Wither expresses for ‘Poesie,’ may to some appear overstrained; but let it not be thought that the poet attributed this power of imparting delight to his faculty alone of _making verses_. The exercise of his fancy, by which he could “raise pleasure to her height,” consisted in presenting to his “mind’s eye” the infinite beauties of the creation. The “daisy,” whose remembrance gladdened even his prison-walls, brought to him images of the quiet and purity of the “flowery fields.” Such images every body may enjoy, and may gradually learn to associate the commonest appearances of nature with a high moral feeling. We have many instances of this power of association in our finest poets; let us take as an example the following lines by a writer of our own day:--
TO A DAISY.
Bright flower, whose home is every where A pilgrim bold in Nature’s care, And oft, the long year through, the heir Of joy or sorrow.
Methinks that there abides in thee Some concord with humanity, Given to no other flower I see The forest thorough!
And wherefore? Man is soon deprest; A thoughtless thing! who, once unblest, Does little on his memory rest, Or on his reason.
But thou would’st teach him how to find A shelter under every wind; A hope for times that are unkind, And every season.
WORDSWORTH.
---------------------
ON THE CHOICE OF A LABOURING MAN’S DWELLING.
It seems, on the first view, somewhat odd to talk about choice of dwelling to a labouring man. It may occur to such a person, that as he has seldom more than two or three shillings per week to allow for rent, he must be contented with the humble accommodations that can be afforded for that sum. This is, to a certain extent, true; but it is not therefore to be concluded that the exercise of a little prudence may not put him in possession of some advantages with his two or three shillings, which the want of that quality would exclude him from. There are some dwellings so badly situated, in such ill repair, and altogether so miserable, that a man exposes himself and his family to disease and every other inconvenience by inhabiting them. Such hovels are usually tenanted by people who are behind-hand in paying their rent, and so cannot leave them; or who, being “steeped to the very lips in poverty,” are indifferent to cleanliness and all other comforts. It is possible that an industrious and careful family may, for some time, be obliged to live in a wretched house; but it is their own fault if they continue in it. In this country the poor are better lodged than in any other in Europe; and within the last twenty years the increase of population and of productive labour has caused a demand for cottages, which has covered every parish, and particularly the neighbourhood of large towns, with an amazing number of snug little houses, in which provision is generally made for the comfort of those who inhabit them. Now while there is such a _choice_ of dwellings, it is very much a labouring man’s fault if he does not have a commodious one; and if he continue to be the tenant of a damp, or ruinous, or badly ventilated hut, while the snug brick and tiled tenement remains vacant, we should say that he is a blind and stupid observer of an old proverb (which, however, has much sense in it) that “three removes are as bad as a fire.”
We wish to offer a few plain hints to assist our readers in the choice of a dwelling. And, first, of situation.
Whoever rambles through our villages must often see a pretty little cottage, that realizes all that benevolence could wish for a labouring man’s dwelling. We have seen many such; and the remembrance often occurs to us, when we observe rich men unhappy, in large mansions, and amongst splendid furniture. We then think of the contrast which the simplicity and content of the “peasant’s nest” offers. Who has not looked upon the whitened walls, half covered with roses and jessamine, and the neat garden, where ornament is blended with utility,
And said, if there’s peace to be found in the world, A heart that is humble may hope for it here!
But an agreeable dwelling is not always to be commanded; nor is the _best_ situation always to be found. If a cottager have a house with a northern aspect, he must pay a little more attention to his gooseberry and apple trees, to make them bear as plentifully as those which are trained in a southern sun. We are only desirous to caution him against a house that is truly uncomfortable, and that cannot be easily rendered otherwise.
We would first say, avoid, if it be possible, a low and marshy situation. There are many dangerous fevers which are produced by the vicinity of stagnant waters: and houses which from their site are constantly damp expose those who inhabit them to rheumatism, croup, ague, and other painful disorders. The same effects are produced by dwelling-houses which are subject to occasional inundations of rivers. To be driven in cold weather from the accustomed fire-side to shiver in bedrooms which have probably no grate; to have two or three feet of water running through the lower part of the house, destroying many things and injuring more; and at last, when the inundations cease, to find the whole dwelling damp and miserable for several weeks: this is a visitation which no one would willingly seek. If a cottager has therefore the choice of being on a hill-side, or by the bank of a river, we think, if he were a sensible man, he would prefer the elevated situation.
On the _construction_ of a dwelling, we have not much to observe. The great requisite is the free admission of _light_ and _air_. _Dark_ rooms are an inconvenience to the industrious housewife which we need not describe; and rooms not properly _ventilated_ are more injurious to health than may readily be conceived. Every sleeping-room should have a chimney. In England, no sitting-room is, we apprehend, without one. But in Ireland, the peasantry have neither window nor chimney to their wretched hovels. The smoke of the turf which burns upon their hearth forces its way out by the door; and the family sit and sleep in this dark and dirty condition. This would be intolerable amongst the more cleanly and richer peasantry of this country.
Of the appendages to a house, a good supply of water is one of the most necessary conveniences. If the pitcher is to be carried a dozen times a day to a spring or a well a quarter of a mile off, it is almost the labour of one person to procure this supply; and that labour would contribute as much to the family earnings as, in twelve months, would dig a well. No cottager should be without a garden. A rood of land, properly cultivated, will half maintain a careful family.
Of the _fixtures_ of a house we cannot be expected to say much. A _copper_ and an _oven_ will enable the female to labour most profitably for the general good. A cottager that can grow his own potatoes, keep his pig, brew his beer, and bake his bread, has not many necessaries to purchase of the shopkeeper, and is therefore, to a certain extent, independent in the best sense of the word.
As to furniture, we would say, avoid _furnished lodgings_. The bed and table, and two or three chairs, of these places, seldom cost more than 5_l._, the interest of which is only 5_s._ a year. The money annually paid for the use of such things is almost as much as their prime cost. There is a satisfaction, too, in knowing that what is about us is our own. It is better to sit upon an old box or a block of wood than to pay enormously for the hire of a chair; and we may sleep as soundly upon a straw mattress as upon an expensive feather-bed. One secret, to be happy in every situation of life, is this,--not to sacrifice real comfort and solid independence to make a show. When the cottager has got ten pounds in the Savings Bank, he may afford his wife a mahogany tea-table. An American writer has given some judicious remarks upon this subject, which apply to all classes:--
“If you are about to furnish a house, do not spend all your money, be it much or little. Do not let the beauty of this thing, and the cheapness of that, tempt you to buy unnecessary articles. Doctor Franklin’s maxim was a wise one, ‘Nothing is cheap that we do not want.’ Buy merely enough to get along with at first. It is only by experience that you can tell what will be the wants of your family. If you spend all your money, you will find you have purchased many things you do not want, and have no means left to get many things which you do want. If you have enough, and more than enough, to get every thing suitable to your situation, do not think you must spend it all, merely because you happen to have it. Begin humbly. As riches increase, it is easy and pleasant to increase in comforts; but it is always painful and inconvenient to decrease. After all, these things are viewed in their proper light by the truly judicious and respectable. Neatness, tastefulness, and good sense may be shown in the management of a small household, and the arrangement of a little furniture, as well as upon a larger scale; and these qualities are always praised, and always treated with respect and attention. The consideration which many purchase by living beyond their income, and of course living upon others, is not worth the trouble it costs. The glare there is about this false and wicked parade is deceptive; it does not in fact procure a man valuable friends, or extensive influence.”
---------------------
However small may be a man’s income, there is one very certain way of increasing it--that is _Frugality_. A frugal expenditure will enable almost every body to _save_ something; and as there are now established throughout this country _Banks_, where the industrious may safely deposit their savings, however little they may be, and receive the same sort of advantage which the rich derive from their money, that is, _interest_, there is every inducement to make _an effort to save_. Dr. Franklin observes, in his usual forcible way, that “six pounds a-year is but a groat a-day. For this little sum which may be daily wasted, either in time or expense, unperceived, a man of credit may, on his own security, have the constant possession and use of a hundred and twenty pounds.” Many humble men in England have risen to wealth by such small beginnings; but many more continue to expend the groat a-day unnecessarily, and never cease to be poor.
---------------------
A certain pope, who had been raised from an obscure situation to the apostolic chair, was immediately waited upon by a deputation sent from a small district, in which he had formerly officiated as _cure_: it seems that he had promised the inhabitants that he would do something for them, if it should ever be in his power; and some of them now appeared before him, to remind him of his promise, and also to request that he would fulfil it, by granting them _two harvests in every year_! He acceded to their _modest_ request, on condition that they should go home immediately, and so adjust the Almanac of _their_ own particular district, as to make every year of _their_ Register consist of twenty-four calendar months.
---------------------
Sir George Staunton visited a man in India who had committed a murder, and, in order not only to save his life, but what was of much more consequence, his _caste_, he submitted to the penalty imposed; this was, that he should sleep for seven years on a bedstead, without any mattress, the whole surface of which was studded with points of iron, resembling nails, but not so sharp as to penetrate the flesh. Sir George saw him in the fifth year of his probation, and his skin was then like the hide of a rhinoceros, but more callous; at that time, however, he could sleep comfortably on his “_bed of thorns_,” and remarked, that at the expiration of the term of his sentence, he should most probably continue that system from choice, which he had been obliged to adopt from necessity.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
LONDON:--CHARLES KNIGHT, PALL-MALL EAST.
_Shopkeepers and Hawkers may be supplied Wholesale by the following Booksellers:_--
_London_, GROOMBRIDGE, Panyer Alley, Paternoster-Row. _Birmingham_, DRAKE. _Leeds_, BAINES and Co. _Liverpool_, WILLMER and SMITH. _Manchester_, ROBINSON. _Dublin_, WAKEMAN. _Edinburgh_, OLIVER and BOYD. _Glasgow_, ATKINSON and Co.
Printed by WILLIAM CLOWES, Duke Street, Lambeth.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Transcriber’s Notes
This file uses _underscores_ to indicate italic text. New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the public domain. Itemized changes from the original text:
• p. 11: Added missing closing quotation mark to title “On the Truth of the Christian Religion.” • p. 12: replaced single with double closing quotation mark after phrase “pleasurable activity of body and mind.” • p. 13: Added missing letter “l” in phrase “intending to adopt the profession of the law.” • p. 13: Added missing period after phrase “an undisturbed contemplation of the wonders in these rooms.” • p. 16: Added missing commas and final letter “t” in passage beginning “the same sort of advantage which the rich derive from their money.” • p. 16: Removed apparent hyphen from address “Panyer Alley” to match other issues.