The History of Sandford and Merton Part 21

"'--We mounted our camels,' continued Chares, 'and soon had reached the confines of the fertile plains of Egypt. The way, as we proceeded, grew sensibly more dreary and disagreeable, yet was sometimes varied with little tufts of trees and scanty patches of herbage; but these at length entirely disappeared, and nothing was seen on every side but an immense extent of barren sands, dest.i.tute of vegetation, and parched by the continual heat of the sun. No sound was heard to interrupt the dreary silence that reigned around; no traces of inhabitants perceivable, and the gloomy uniformity of the prospect inspired the soul with melancholy. In the meantime the sun seemed to shoot down perpendicular rays upon our heads, without a cloud to mitigate his violence. I felt a burning fever take possession of my body. My tongue was scorched with intolerable heat, and it was in vain I endeavoured to moisten my mouth with repeated draughts of water. At night we came to a little rising ground, at the foot of which we perceived some aquatic herbs and a small quant.i.ty of muddy water, of which our camels took prodigious draughts; here we spread our tents and encamped for the night. With the morning we pursued our journey; but had not proceeded far before we saw a cloud of dust that seemed to rise along the desert; and as we approached nearer, we easily distinguished the glitter of arms that reflected the rising sun. This was a band of the Arabians that had discovered us, and came to know our intentions. As they advanced they spurred their horses, which are the most fleet and excellent in the world, and bounded along the desert with the lightness of an antelope; at the same time they brandished their lances, and seemed prepared alike for war or peace; but when they saw that we had neither the intention nor the power to commit hostilities, they stopped their coursers at the distance of a few paces from us, and he that appeared the chief advanced, and, with a firm but mild tone of voice, inquired into the reason of our coming. It was then that I took the liberty of addressing him in his own language, to which I had for some time applied myself before my journey. I explained to him my curiosity, which led me to observe in person the manners of a people who are celebrated over the whole world for having preserved their native simplicity unaltered, and their liberty unviolated, amidst the revolutions which agitate all the neighbouring nations. I then offered him the loading of my camel, which I had brought, not as being worthy his acceptance, but as a slight testimony of my regard, and concluded with remarking, that the fidelity of the Arabians in observing their engagements was unimpeached in a single instance; and therefore, relying upon the integrity of my own intentions, I had come a painful journey, unarmed, and almost alone, to put myself into their power, and demand the sacred rights of hospitality.

"'While I was thus speaking, he looked at me with penetration that seemed to read into my very soul; and, when I had finished, he extended his arm with a smile of benevolence, and welcomed me to their tribe, telling me, at the same time, that they admitted me as their guest, and received me with the arms of friendship; that their method of life, like their manners, was coa.r.s.e and simple, but that I might consider myself as safer in their tents, and more removed from violence or treachery, than in the crowded cities which I had left. The rest of the squadron then approached, and all saluted me as a friend and brother. We then struck off across the desert, and, after a few hours' march, approached the encampment where they had left their wives and children.

"'This people is the most singular, and, in many respects, the most admirable of all that inhabit this globe of earth. All other nations are subject to revolutions and the various turns of fortune; sometimes they wage successful wars; sometimes they improve in the arts of peace; now they are great and reverenced by their neighbours; and now, insulted and despised, they suffer all the miseries of servitude. The Arabians alone have never been known to vary in the smallest circ.u.mstance, either of their internal policy or external situation. They inhabit a climate which would be intolerable to the rest of the human species for its burning heat, and a soil which refuses to furnish any of the necessaries of life. Hence they neither plough the earth, nor sow, nor depend upon corn for their subsistence, nor are acquainted with any of the mechanic arts; they live chiefly upon the milk of their herds and flocks, and sometimes eat their flesh. These burning deserts are stretched out to an immense extent on every side, and these they consider as their common country, without having any fixed or permanent abode. Arid and barren as are these wilds in general, there are various spots which are more productive than the rest; here are found supplies of water, and some appearances of vegetation; and here the Arabians encamp till they have exhausted the spontaneous products of the soil. Besides, they vary their place of residence with the different seasons of the year. When they are in perfect friendship with their neighbours, they advance to the very edges of the desert, and find more ample supplies of moisture and herbage. If they are attacked or molested, the whole tribe is in motion in an instant, and seeks a refuge in their impenetrable recesses. Other nations are involved in various pursuits of war, or government, or commerce; they have made a thousand inventions of luxury necessary to their welfare, and the enjoyment of these they call _happiness_. The Arab is ignorant of all these things, or, if he knows them, he despises their possession. All his wants, his pa.s.sions, his desires, terminate in one object, and that object is the preservation of his liberty. For this purpose he contents himself with a bare sufficiency of the coa.r.s.est and simplest food; and the small quant.i.ty of clothing which he requires in such a climate, is fabricated by the women of the tribe, who milk the cattle and prepare the food of their husbands, and require no other pleasures than the pleasing interest of domestic cares. They have a breed of horses superior to any in the rest of the globe for gentleness, patience, and unrivalled swiftness; this is a particular pa.s.sion and pride of the Arabian tribes. These horses are necessary to them in their warlike expeditions, and in their courses along the deserts. If they are attacked, they mount their steeds, who bear them with the rapidity of a tempest to avenge their injuries; or, should they be overmatched in fight, they soon transport them beyond the possibility of pursuit. For this reason the proudest monarchs and greatest conquerors have in vain attempted to subdue them. Troops accustomed to the plenty of a cultivated country, are little able to pursue these winged warriors over the whole extent of their sandy wastes. Oppressed with heat, fainting for want of water, and spent with the various difficulties of the way, the most numerous armies have been destroyed in such attempts; and those that survived the obstacles of nature were easily overcome by the repeated attacks of the valiant natives.

"'While I was in this country I was myself witness to an emba.s.sy that was sent from the neighbouring prince, who imagined that the fame of his exploits had struck the Arabians with terror, and disposed them to submission. The amba.s.sador was introduced to the chief of the tribe, a venerable old man, undistinguished by any mark of ostentation from the rest, who received him sitting cross-legged at the door of his tent. He then began to speak, and, in a long and studied harangue, described the power of his master, the invincible courage of his armies, the vast profusion of arms, of warlike engines, and military stores, and concluded with a demand that the Arabians should submit to acknowledge him as their lord, and pay a yearly tribute.

"'At this proud speech the younger part of the tribe began to frown with indignation, and clash their weapons in token of defiance; but the chief himself, with a calm and manly composure, made this reply: 'I expected, from the maturity of your age, and the gravity of your countenance, to have heard a rational discourse, befitting you to propose and us to hear. When you dwelt so long upon the power of your master, I also imagined that he had sent to us to propose a league of friendship and alliance, such as might become equals, and bind man more closely to his fellows. In this case the Arabians, although they neither want the a.s.sistance, nor fear the attacks of any king or nation, would gladly have consented, because it has been always their favourite maxim, neither to leave injuries unpunished, nor to be outdone in kindness and hospitality. But since you have come thus far to deliver a message which must needs be disagreeable to the ears of free-born men, who acknowledge no superior upon earth, you may thus report the sentiments of the Arabians to him that sent you. You may tell him that, as to the land which we inhabit, it is neither the gift of him nor any of his forefathers; we hold it from our ancestors, who received it in turn from theirs, by the common laws of nature, which has adapted particular countries and soils, not only to man, but to all the various animals which she has produced. If, therefore, your king imagines that he has a right to retain the country which he and his people now inhabit, by the same tenure do the Arabians hold the sovereignty of these barren sands, where the bones of our ancestors have been buried, even from the first foundation of the world. But you have described to us, in pompous language, the extraordinary power and riches of your king; according to you, he not only commands numerous and well-appointed troops of warlike men, furnished with every species of military stores, but he also possesses immense heaps of gold, silver, and other precious commodities, and his country affords him an inexhaustible supply of corn, and oil, and wine, and all the other conveniences of life. If, therefore, these representations be false, you must appear a vain and despicable babbler, who, being induced by no sufficient reason, have come hither of your own accord to amuse us--a plain and simple race of men--with specious tales and fables; but, if your words be true, your king must be equally unjust and foolish, who, already possessing all these advantages, doth still insatiably grasp after more; and, enjoying so many good things with ease and security to himself, will rather put them to all the hazard than repress the vain desires of his own intolerable avarice. As to the tribute which you have demanded, what you have already seen of the Arabians and their country affords you a sufficient answer. You see that we have neither cities, nor fields, nor rivers, nor wine, nor oil; gold and silver are equally unknown among us; and the Arabians, abandoning all these things to other men, have, at the same time, delivered themselves from the necessity of being slaves, which is the general law by which all mortals retain their possession. We have, therefore, nothing which we can send as a tribute but the sand of these our deserts, and the arrows and lances with which we have hitherto defended them from all invaders. If these are treasures worthy of his acceptance, he may lead his conquering troops to take possession of our country. But he will find men who are not softened by luxury, or vanquished by their own vices; men who prize their liberty at a dearer rate than all other mortals do their riches or their lives, and to whom dishonour is more formidable than wounds and death. If he can vanquish such men, it will, however, become his prudence to reflect whether he can vanquish the obstacles which nature herself has opposed to his ambition. If he should attempt to pa.s.s our deserts, he will have to struggle with famine and consuming thirst, from which no enemy has. .h.i.therto escaped, even when he has failed to perish by the arrows of the Arabians.''----

"'Happy and generous people,' exclaimed Sophron, 'how well do they deserve the liberty they enjoy! With such sentiments they need not fear the attack of kings or conquerors. It is the vices of men, and not the weakness of their nature, that basely enslave them to their equals; and he that prizes liberty beyond a few contemptible pleasures of his senses may be certain that no human force can ever bereave him of so great a good.'

"'Such sentiments,' replied Chares, 'convince me that I have not made a false estimate of the inhabitants of these mountainous districts. It is for this reason that I have been so particular in the description of Egypt and Arabia. I wished to know whether the general spirit of indolence and pusillanimity had infected the hardy inhabitants of Lebanon; but from the generous enthusiasm which animates your countenance at the recital of n.o.ble actions, as well as from what I have experienced you are capable of attempting, I trust that these solitary scenes are uninfected with the vices that have deluged the rest of Asia, and bent its inhabitants to the yoke'"----

Here the impatience of Tommy, which had been increasing a considerable time, could no longer be restrained, and he could not help interrupting the story, by addressing Mr Barlow thus: "Sir, will you give me leave to ask you a question?"

_Mr Barlow._--As many as you choose.

_Tommy._--In all these stories which I have heard, it seems as if those nations that have little or nothing are more good-natured, and better and braver than those that have a great deal.

_Mr Barlow._--This is indeed sometimes the case.

_Tommy._--But, then, why should it not be the case here, as well as in other places? Are all the poor in this country better than the rich?

"It should seem," answered Mr Barlow, smiling, "as if you were of that opinion."

_Tommy._--Why so, sir?

_Mr Barlow._--Because, whatever you want to have done, I observe that you always address yourself to the poor, and not to the rich.

_Tommy._--Yes, sir; but that is a different case. The poor are used to do many things which the rich never do.

_Mr Barlow._--Are these things useful or not useful?

_Tommy._--Why, to be sure, many of them are extremely useful; for, since I have acquired so much knowledge, I find they cultivate the ground, to raise corn; and build houses; and hammer iron, which is so necessary to make everything we use; besides feeding cattle, and dressing our victuals, and washing our clothes, and, in short, doing everything which is necessary to be done.

_Mr Barlow._--What! do the poor do all these things?

_Tommy._--Yes, indeed, or else they never would be done. For it would be a very ungenteel thing to labour at a forge like a blacksmith, or hold the plough like the farmer, or build a house like a bricklayer.

_Mr Barlow._--And did not you build a house in my garden some little time ago?

_Tommy._--Yes, sir; but that was only for my amus.e.m.e.nt; it was not intended for anybody to live in.

_Mr Barlow._--So you still think it is the first qualification of a gentleman never to do anything useful; and he that does anything with that design, ceases to be a gentleman?

Tommy looked a little ashamed at this; but he said it was not so much his own opinion as that of the other young ladies and gentlemen with whom he had conversed.

"But," replied Mr Barlow, "you asked just now which were the best--the rich or the poor? But if the poor provide food and clothing, and houses, and everything else, not only for themselves but for all the rich, while the rich do nothing at all, it must appear that the poor are better than the rich."

_Tommy._--Yes, sir; but then the poor do not act in that manner out of kindness, but because they are obliged to it.

_Mr Barlow._--That, indeed, is a better argument than you sometimes use.

But tell me which set of people would you prefer; those that are always doing useful things because they are obliged to it, or those who never do anything useful at all?

_Tommy._--Indeed, sir, I hardly know what to say; but, when I asked the question, I did not so much mean the doing useful things. But now I think of it, the rich do a great deal of good by buying the things of the poor, and giving them money in return.

_Mr Barlow._--What is money?

_Tommy._--Money, sir; money is----I believe, little pieces of silver and gold, with a head upon them.

_Mr Barlow._--And what is the use of those little pieces of silver and gold?

_Tommy._--Indeed, I do not know that they are of any use; but everybody has agreed to take them; and therefore you may buy with them whatever you want.

_Mr Barlow._--Then, according to your last account, the goodness of the rich consists in taking from the poor houses, clothes, and food, and giving them in return little bits of silver and gold, which are really good for nothing.

_Tommy._--Yes, sir; but then the poor can take these pieces of money and purchase everything which they want.

_Mr Barlow._--You mean, that if a poor man has money in his pocket, he can always exchange it for clothes, or food, or any other necessary?

_Tommy._--Indeed, I do, sir.

_Mr Barlow._--But whom must he buy them of? for according to your account, the rich never produce any of these things; therefore the poor, if they want to purchase them, can only do so of each other.

_Tommy._--But, sir, I cannot think that is always the case; for I have been along with my mamma to shops, where there were fine powdered gentlemen and ladies that sold things to other people, and livery-servants, and young ladies that played on the harpsichord, like Miss Matilda.

_Mr Barlow._--But, my good little friend, do you imagine that these fine powdered gentlemen and ladies made the things which they sold?

_Tommy._--That, sir, I cannot tell, but I should rather imagine not; for all the fine people I have ever seen are too much afraid of spoiling their clothes to work.

_Mr Barlow._--All that they do, then, is to employ poorer persons to work for them, while they only sell what is produced by their labour. So that still you see we reach no farther than this; the rich do nothing and produce nothing, and the poor everything that is really useful. Were there a whole nation of rich people, they would all be starved, like the Spaniard in the story, because no one would condescend to produce anything; and this would happen in spite of all their money, unless they had neighbours who were poorer to supply them. But a nation that was poor might be industrious, and gradually supply themselves with all they wanted; and then it would be of little consequence whether they had pieces of metal with heads upon them or not. But this conversation has lasted long enough at present; and, as you are now going to bed, I daresay Miss Simmons will be so good as to defer the remainder of her story until to-morrow.

The next day Tommy rose before his father and mother; and, as his imagination had been forcibly acted on by the description he had heard of the Arabian hors.e.m.e.n, he desired his little horse might be saddled, and that William, his father's man, would attend him upon a ride.

Unfortunately for Tommy, his vivacity was greater than his reason, and his taste for imitation was continually leading him into some mischief or misfortune. He had no sooner been introduced into the acquaintance of genteel life, than he threw aside all his former habits, and longed to distinguish himself as a most accomplished young gentleman. He was now, in turn, sickened and disgusted with fashionable affectation; and his mind, at leisure for fresh impressions, was ready to catch at the first new object which occurred. The idea, therefore, which presented itself to his mind, as soon as he opened his eyes, was that of being an Arabian horseman. Nothing, he imagined, could equal the pleasure of guiding a fiery steed over those immense and desolate wastes which he had heard described. In the meantime, as the country where he wished to exhibit was at too great a distance, he thought he might excite some applause even upon the common before his father's house.

Full of this idea he rose, put on his boots, and summoned William to attend him. William had been too much accustomed to humour all his caprices to make any difficulty of obeying him; and as he had often ridden out with his young master before, he did not foresee the least possible inconvenience. But the maternal care of Mrs Merton had made it an indispensable condition with her son, that he should never presume to ride with spurs; and she had strictly enjoined all the servants never to supply him with those dangerous accoutrements. Tommy had long murmured in secret at this prohibition, which seemed to imply a distrust of his abilities in horsemanship, which sensibly wounded his pride. But since he had taken it into his head to emulate the Arabs themselves, and perhaps excel them in their own art, he considered it as no longer possible to endure the disgrace. But, as he was no stranger to the strict injunction which had been given to all the servants, he did not dare to make the experiment of soliciting their a.s.sistance.

While he was in this embarra.s.sment a new and sudden expedient presented itself to his fertile genius, which he instantly resolved to adopt.

Tommy went to his mamma's maid, and without difficulty, obtained from her a couple of the largest-sized pins, which he thrust through the leather of his boots, and, thus accoutred, he mounted his horse without suspicion or observation.

Tommy had not ridden far before he began to give vent to his reigning pa.s.sion, and asked William if he had ever seen an Arabian on horseback.

The answer of William sufficiently proved his ignorance, which Tommy kindly undertook to remove by giving him a detail of all the particulars he had heard the preceding night; but, unfortunately, the eloquence of Tommy precipitated him into a dangerous experiment; for, just as he was describing their rapid flight across the deserts, the interest of his subject so transported him that he closed his legs upon his little horse, and p.r.i.c.ked him in so sensible a manner, that the pony, who was not deficient in spirit, resented the attack, and set off with him at a prodigious rate.

William, when he saw his master thus burst forth, was at a loss whether to consider it an accident or only an oratorical grace; but seeing the horse hurrying along the roughest part of the common, while Tommy tugged in vain to restrain his efforts, he thought it necessary to endeavour to overtake him, and therefore pursued him with all the speed he could use.

But the pony, whose blood seemed to be only the more inflamed by the violence of his own exertions, ran the faster when he heard the trampling of another horse behind him.

In this manner did Tommy scamper over the common, while William pursued in vain; for, just as the servant thought he had reached his master, his horse would push forward with such rapidity as left his pursuer far behind. Tommy kept his seat with infinite address; but he now began seriously to repent of his own ungovernable ambition, and would, with the greatest pleasure, have exchanged his own spirited steed for the dullest a.s.s in England.