—’Tis very true, said
I, replying to a cast upwards with his eyes, with which he had
concluded his address;—’tis very true,—and
heaven be their resource who have no other but the charity of the
world, the stock of which, I fear, is no way sufficient for the
many great claims which are hourly made upon it.
As I pronounced the words great claims, he gave a
slight glance with his eye downwards upon the sleeve of his
tunic:—I felt the full force of the appeal—I
acknowledge it, said I:—a coarse habit, and that but once
in three years with meagre diet,—are no great matters; and the
true point of pity is, as they can be earn’d in the world
with so little industry, that your order should wish to procure
them by pressing upon a fund which is the property of the lame,
the blind, the aged and the infirm;—the captive who lies
down counting over and over again the days of his afflictions,
languishes also for his share of it; and had you been of the
order of mercy, instead of the order of St. Francis, poor
as I am, continued I, pointing at my portmanteau, full cheerfully
should it have been open’d to you, for the ransom of the
unfortunate.—The monk made me a bow.—But of all
others, resumed I, the unfortunate of our own country, surely,
have the first rights; and I have left thousands in distress upon
our own shore.—The monk gave a cordial wave with his
head,—as much as to say, No doubt there is misery enough in
every corner of the world, as well as within our
convent—But we distinguish, said I, laying my hand upon the
sleeve of his tunic, in return for his appeal—we
distinguish, my good father! betwixt those who wish only to eat
the bread of their own labour—and those who eat the bread
of other people’s, and have no other plan in life, but to
get through it in sloth and ignorance, for the love of
God.
The poor Franciscan made no reply: a hectic of a moment
pass’d across his cheek, but could not tarry—Nature
seemed to have done with her resentments in him;—he showed
none:—but letting his staff fall within his arms, he
pressed both his hands with resignation upon his breast, and
retired.
