“Perhaps not,” said Mr. Sackville; “but the language of nature sometimes needs an interpreter to such young observers as Ned and Julia.”
“That it does, papa,” exclaimed Edward, whose exalted feeling was gradually subsiding to its natural level; “and there are people, too, older than Julia and I, that I think need an interpreter. That Yorkshireman, for instance, who lives in the stone house just at the turn of the road as we came down from Forsyth's, said to me, ‘Well, young master, this is a mighty fine sight to come and see, but you would be sick enough of it if you lived here. It seems, when I am lying on my bed at night, like an everlasting thunder-storm, such a roaring from the Falls and dropping from the trees: and in winter my poor beasts are covered with icicles. I wish some of the quality that cry the place up, and come half the world over to see it, would change births with my wife and me,’ and so he went on railing till I ran away from him to overtake you.”
“Poor fellow!” said Mr. Sackville; “the sentiment, ‘Il n'y a rien de beau que l'utile,’[3] is quite excusable in a laborer. I think, Ned, I feel more disposed to pity than to blame your Yorkshireman.”
[3] There is nothing but the useful which is beautiful.
“Well, papa, what do you think of that party of city shop-keepers who dined at the inn with us to-day? I heard one of the ladies say, ‘I have been so disappointed in my journey.’ I dropped my knife and fork, and exclaimed, ‘Disappointed, madam! does not the fall look as high as you expected?’ ‘Oh, child,’ she replied, laughing, ‘I was not speaking of the fall; but I find it is quite too early in the season to travel in the country. I have not seen a roast pig or a broiled chicken since I left the city.’ What do you think of that, papa?”
“Why I think, my dear, she is a vulgar woman, who travels because others do; and is naturally disappointed in not meeting with the only circumstances that could give her pleasure.”
“There's Mrs. Hilton, papa, who, I am sure, is not vulgar—at least she is as rich as Crœsus—and I heard her say to a gentleman, that if she could have remained at the Springs, and then could have gone home and said she had been to the Falls, she should have been glad; for she was sure no one came here but for the name of it.”
“Mrs. Hilton is of the class of the vulgar rich, among whom vulgarity is quite as obvious, and much more disgusting, than with the vulgar poor. But come, dear Ned; the faults and follies of others is a theme scarcely worthy of this place; and just at the moment that you are enjoying this festival of nature, you must take care you do not commit the pharisaic fault, and thank God that you are not as these people, without reflecting that Providence has arranged the circumstances which have made the difference.”
“But, papa,” said Julia, “it would not be wrong, would it, for Edward to feel that there is a difference?”
“Perhaps not, provided the feeling is properly tempered with humility and gratitude; but it is far safer to be in the habit of comparing yourselves with your superiors, than your inferiors.”