Lucy (Chapter_10)

Where then can man find happiness, since the brightest wisdom, and the greatest riches, this world can bestow, cannot make him happy? In the treasures of the Bible! In its promise of eternal bliss, in its instructions for a holy life--in its appurances of the divine government of God; and in that Peace which this world cannot give--and can not take away So curious moralist--go profound philosopher, dive into the deepest recesses of the human mind, and tell me why you then find anxiety, and discontent; a longing for something, which neither Science, nor wealth, nor power can confer? Why { ?} when his daughter died, mourn'd as one without hope. Why { ?} amidst the pleasures and treasures of the east, could not sleep upon his bed or roses, and Augustus, the master of the World was miserable And if with all your wisdom, ye cannot solve the enigma, then go to the Bible and learn. Man is immortal! and the Knowledge, and the Pleasures, and the Riches, of mortality can never satisfy the immortal soul. Ask then the humble christian why he smiles amidst penury and pain, under a body agonized by discare, and a heart torn by affliction; he too will say, because Man is immortal, and my riches, and my pleasures are in a place where moth and rust does not corrupt, nor theives break through steal. because my Bible gives me, a Peace which this world cannot give--and cannot take away

Chap 10

Mean while, Lucy grew no better--and times grew worse. The coldest part of the four and twenty hours, is just before the rising of the sun, because all the heat inbibed by the earth through the day is then exhausted Of all the times of the year, the few weeks previous to the meeting of Congress, is the time of greatest suffering among the poor of our Metropolis, as the money gain'd from that source, is spent and fewer servants and mechanics are in requistion during its recess. "Money is so scarce, I cannot pay you now, you must wait til Congress meet," was

the common answer Richard received at the Hotels and boarding houses, where he was accustom'd to work, "All the money I can scrape together," said one, must go to furnish my house, decently, or else not a member shall I get." "Every penny, I have must go for wood," said another, "for the members have grown as cunning as foxes, and they insist on seeing the cellars and yards as well as the rooms, and if there is not plenty of wood laid in, not a member shall I get." "You know, Richard, for you have lived in boarding-houses, they will have rousing fires in their rooms, day and night, as one may say." ["All thought Richard, as he turn'd homewards, without a cent to buy a piece of bread--to be sure their honor's must have fires to sleep by, as well as sit by--it can't be expected they will think of us poor creatures, who are almost perishing--and as for there poor widows who board them, it is not much profit for them, seeing they must lay out most of what they get the few months they are here--For no matter what it costs, they must have the fat of the land--the best the market affords--Many a time my heart has ach'd to see them poor delicate women, standing in the wet and cold and shivering so in Market they could hardly count out their money.--Poor things they earn it hard enough, and I can't repine when they don't pay me--But when people I know to be rich, turn me off after a hard day's work, without a single cent--it does go hard with me." But it was not always Richard return'd home, so down-hearted, for one evening, after several days real suffering for the necessaries of life, he enter'd his little cabin with a smiling face. But Becky who was busy and out of humour too, did not turn to receive him as kindly as usual, nor see him. But muttering, as she went on with her work ["Well daddy, I hope as how you haven't brought back an empty stomach to night, seeing I have not where with all to fill it--the last crumb" continued she sighing"is gone.--The barrel and the cruse have fail'd with all your faith daddy--so I don't see for my part, as your faith does you much service--I am sartin,

it will never fill my stomach--I guess as how no ravens, will bring you victuals, whatever they mought do the prophet. ["Still, said Richard, "you will not trust and believe that the Lord will provide in time of need." ["I will trust it, when I see it," said Becky pettishly. ["Look then, and believe, said Richard, lifting up the lid of the chest, "the barrel and the cruse have not {failed?}. She turn'd round, and on examing the contents of the chest, was highly delighted--["Well, bless God," said she, "sure enough, he has not forgot us in our time of want." ["Seem," said her pious husband, to trust, as will us, to bless your heavenly father." [Becky, could now readily promise to do this and much more, as she open'd first one paper, then another. ["Why if here begn't some nice tea, and sugar, and rice, and I knows not what, why daddy, where in the world did you get such a sight of nice things?" ["The Ravens," said he smiling "brought us this supply" {"Bless them there Ravens then," said Becky, "but come now, and tell me a body who did give them to you?" {"Why thanks be to God, if there are hard hearted ladies, there are kind hearted ladies too, and it was my luck to day to meet with such a one.--Indeed, I never need to have wanted, if I would have ask'd, but I will not beg as long as we can keep body and soul together without it. Besides I know how it is, as same as it is known that a lady is kind and tender hearted, and will give to the poor,--why all the poor go to her, and to my certain knowledge hundreds go Mrs M--d--n--where one, goes to another lady, and so as I was saying, I wouldn't go to trouble her.--{But today as I was coming by the seven buildings, she was standing at the door, speaking to some cart-man, who wouldn't mind the servants, but would drop their wood just in the way of the carriages, and when she saw me with my saw on my shoulder, she called me, and told me as I seem'd out of work, I might assist in sawing up that wood and to come to her, for the money, as she wish'd to

speak to me. So, when I had done, I went to the steward and told him Madam's orders, and she sent for me in the dining room, which the company had just left. She enquired so kindly after my wife and little ones, that I made bold to tell her we had a poor sick young woman, with us, that we could not do so well by as we desired, and that the poor thing suffer'd at times, having but a poor stomack, for fish and corn bread. ["It is your own fault Richard," said she--"Every servant that has ever lived with me, and whom I have not dismiss'd for their faults, have a right to look on this as a home, and on me as if I was still their mistress. You know, since the d___war, house was burn'd we cannot, in this house accomodate as many servants as I want, and that this was my only reason for parting with you. I now engage you Richard to come always on dining-days, and to wait on table, you shall have as usual your three dollars a day,--and I charge you always bring a basket with you, and I shall order the steward always to fill it for you, and if any of your family-are sick and stand in need of wine, soup, or jellies, come any day, or every day, you are a faithful fellow, Richard, and should never want." {Then she sent for the steward, and gave him orders accordingly, and told him to put me up tea, sugar, and whatever else could be requisite for a sick person. ["Lord bless her, Lord bless her, and long may she reign over us, say I." ["Yes and many a poor soul beside you"-replied Richard.--[The children were now, call'd from their beds--where they had gone almost famish'd; the floor was swept up, the wash-tub put away, more faggots laid on the fire, the kettle hung on, the table nicely set, and even the languid and almost heart broken Lucy, could not but participate in the joy which shone on Becky's black face, and the delight of the children, who ran eagerly about, putting all in order, for a nice supper--[The cold victuals were

dress'd over again, in that palatable, savory way peculiar to the blacks, and which has made many a mistress, say the servants food was better than their master's--I say peculiar to the blacks, for I have so often observed the difference in this and many other respects between them and the whites, that it may be deem'd a distinguishing trait. A poor white family, would have put, the cold meat, cover'd with cold gravy, on the table, and have eaten it with less relish and enjoyment--But give to a negro, crusts of bread, vegetables, and a few bones, or {coarse?}, refuse scraps of meat, and he will make a fricondeau, whose savory fumes, will regale you, before you taste it. [It would have done ones heart good, to have seen Becky, nicely cutting up, now a slice of meat, now of bread, now some cold potatoes, and frying them up on her skillet (that most useful of all useful utensils in a poor man's kitchen) setting on a low block by the fire, while the children were eagerly busy one handing a little more salt, another the pepper, and capering about, turning over head and heels for joy, then running to peek in the skillet, as their mother sat stirring it --every { ?} and then exclaiming, "oh how good it smells"--smacking their lips and snapping their fingers--til at last it was served up. Oh could the rich, peep on such a scene, certainly they would take care that the crumbs, which fell from their tables, should be saved for the poor, instead of being wasted, as they knew too generaly are by careless servants.--Yes, the crumbs and scraps thrown to the dogs, would make many a family leap and sing for joy.--But those who are so high fed, that they know not the sensation of hunger, how can they imagine these things--It is not as Richard said from hardheartedness, it is from ignorance; that the rich are so insensible to the sufferings of the poor.--And while they are contented in discharging the duty of charity, by large subscription to public institutions, or giving alms to the beggar that asks at their doors, that ignorance can never be removed.

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