The thoughts of worldly men are for ever regulated by a moral lawof gravitation, which, like the physical one, holds them down toearth. The bright glory of day, and the silent wonders of astarlit night, appeal to their minds in vain. There are no signsin the sun, or in the moon, or in the stars, for their reading.
They are like some wise men, who, learning to know each planet byits Latin name, have quite forgotten such small heavenlyconstellations as Charity, Forbearance, Universal Love, and Mercy,although they shine by night and day so brightly that the blind maysee them; and who, looking upward at the spangled sky, see nothingthere but the reflection of their own great wisdom and book-learning.
It is curious to imagine these people of the world, busy inthought, turning their eyes towards the countless spheres that shine above us, and making them reflect the only images their mindscontain. The man who lives but in the breath of princes, hasnothing his sight but stars for courtiers" breasts. The enviousman beholds his neighbours" honours even in the sky; to the money-hoarder, and the mass of worldly folk, the whole great universeabove glitters with sterling coin--fresh from the mint--stampedwith the sovereign"s head--coming always between them and heaven,turn where they may. So do the shadows of our own desires standbetween us and our better angels, and thus their brightness iseclipsed.
Everything was fresh and gay, as though the world were but thatmorning made, when Mr Chester rode at a tranquil pace along theForest road. Though early in the season, it was warm and genialweather; the trees were budding into leaf, the hedges and the grasswere green, the air was musical with songs of birds, and high abovethem all the lark poured out her richest melody. In shady spots,the morning dew sparkled on each young leaf and blade of grass;and where the sun was shining, some diamond drops yet glistenedbrightly, as in unwillingness to leave so fair a world, and havesuch brief existence. Even the light wind, whose rustling was asgentle to the ear as softly-falling water, had its hope andpromise; and, leaving a pleasant fragrance in its track as it went fluttering by, whispered of its intercourse with Summer, and of hishappy coming.
The solitary rider went glancing on among the trees, from sunlightinto shade and back again, at the same even pace--looking abouthim, certainly, from time to time, but with no greater thought ofthe day or the scene through which he moved, than that he wasfortunate (being choicely dressed) to have such favourable weather.
He smiled very complacently at such times, but rather as if he weresatisfied with himself than with anything else: and so went ridingon, upon his chestnut cob, as pleasant to look upon as his ownhorse, and probably far less sensitive to the many cheerfulinfluences by which he was surrounded.
In the course of time, the Maypole"s massive chimneys rose upon hisview: but he quickened not his pace one jot, and with the same coolgravity rode up to the tavern porch. John Willet, who was toastinghis red face before a great fire in the bar, and who, withsurpassing foresight and quickness of apprehension, had beenthinking, as he looked at the blue sky, that if that state ofthings lasted much longer, it might ultimately become necessary toleave off fires and throw the windows open, issued forth to holdhis stirrup; calling lustily for Hugh.
"Oh, you"re here, are you, sir?" said John, rather surprised by thequickness with which he appeared. "Take this here valuable animalinto the stable, and have more than particular care of him if youwant to keep your place. A mortal lazy fellow, sir; he needs adeal of looking after."
"But you have a son," returned Mr Chester, giving his bridle toHugh as he dismounted, and acknowledging his salute by a carelessmotion of his hand towards his hat. "Why don"t you make HIMuseful?"
"Why, the truth is, sir," replied John with great importance, "thatmy son--what, you"re a-listening are you, villain?"
"Who"s listening?" returned Hugh angrily. "A treat, indeed, tohear YOU speak! Would you have me take him in till he"s cool?"
"Walk him up and down further off then, sir," cried old John, "andwhen you see me and a noble gentleman entertaining ourselves withtalk, keep your distance. If you don"t know your distance, sir,"
added Mr Willet, after an enormously long pause, during which hefixed his great dull eyes on Hugh, and waited with exemplary patience for any little property in the way of ideas that mightcome to him, "we"ll find a way to teach you, pretty soon."
Hugh shrugged his shoulders scornfully, and in his recklessswaggering way, crossed to the other side of the little green, andthere, with the bridle slung loosely over his shoulder, led thehorse to and fro, glancing at his master every now and then fromunder his bushy eyebrows, with as sinister an aspect as one woulddesire to see.
Mr Chester, who, without appearing to do so, had eyed himattentively during this brief dispute, stepped into the porch, andturning abruptly to Mr Willet, said,"You keep strange servants, John."
"Strange enough to look at, sir, certainly," answered the host;"but out of doors; for horses, dogs, and the likes of that; therean"t a better man in England than is that Maypole Hugh yonder. Hean"t fit for indoors," added Mr Willet, with the confidential airof a man who felt his own superior nature. "I do that; but if thatchap had only a little imagination, sir--"
"He"s an active fellow now, I dare swear," said Mr Chester, in amusing tone, which seemed to suggest that he would have said thesame had there been nobody to hear him.
"Active, sir!" retorted John, with quite an expression in his face;"that chap! Hallo there! You, sir! Bring that horse here, andgo and hang my wig on the weathercock, to show this gentlemanwhether you"re one of the lively sort or not."
Hugh made no answer, but throwing the bridle to his master, andsnatching his wig from his head, in a manner so unceremonious andhasty that the action discomposed Mr Willet not a little, thoughperformed at his own special desire, climbed nimbly to the verysummit of the maypole before the house, and hanging the wig uponthe weathercock, sent it twirling round like a roasting jack.