"That's more than I like to say," observed the gentle Dorothy; "I think there are more good people in the world than some folk think for;—but I'm sure, Jonah, we all want a better understanding of our duty towards each other."
"Right, Dame Dorothy, right!—that's the best sort of religion; but there's the least of it in this world," rejoined the pedlar.
"Why, Jonah," continued the good dame, "I think there might easily be a great deal more good in the world than there is. Every body ought to remember how many little kindnesses it is in their power to perform for others, without any hurt to themselves."
"Yes, a sight o'good might be done in that way, dame," observed the pedlar, beginning very much to admire Dorothy's remarks; "and how much more happy the world would be then!"
"Just so!" exclaimed Dorothy, her aged face beaming with benevolence; "that is the true way of making the world happy, for all to be trying to do their fellow-creatures some kindness. And then, you see, Jonah, when once the pleasure of thus acting began to be felt, there would soon be a pretty general willingness to make greater efforts, and even sacrifices of self-interest, as it is wrongly called, in order to experience greater pleasure, and likewise to increase the world's happiness."
"Truly, dame," said the pedlar, "you do me good to hear you talk. I'm but a poor scholar; yet I can tell, without book, that you must be right."
"But then, you see, Jonah," continued the dame, half unconscious of Jonah's last observation, "if every body were to say, 'Charity begins at home,' this general happiness would never begin. I like best, Jonah, to think of the example of the Blessed Being who came into the world to do us all good. He went about pitying the miserable and afflicted, and healing and blessing them. Charity did not begin at home with him, Jonah!"
The tears were now hastening down Jonah's rough cheeks. How forcible are lessons of goodness! how irresistibly the heart owns their power! Jonah could not support the conversation further. Dorothy's plain and unaffected remarks sunk deep in to his bosom; and when he rose up, and buckled on his pack once more, and the aged dame gave him "handsel," or first money for the day, by purchasing a few pins and needles, the poor pedlar bade her farewell in an accent that showed he felt more than common thankfulness for her kindness.
Alas! this is a world where good impressions are, too often, speedily effaced by bad ones. Jonah called, next at the gate of a wealthy squire, and, with hat in hand, asked for leave to go up to the kitchen-door and expose his wares to the servants. The squire refused; and when Jonah pleaded his poverty, and ventured to remonstrate, the squire frowningly threatened to set the dogs upon him, if he did not instantly decamp! Jonah turned away, and bitterly cursed the unfeeling heart of the rich man,—avowing, internally, that Dorothy Pyecroft was only a doating old fool,—for, after all, "Charity begun at home!"
Scarcely had the pedlar taken twenty steps from Dame Dorothy's cottage, ere the village clergyman knocked at her door. The dame knew the young parson's "rap-rap-rap!" It was quick and consequential, and unlike the way of knocking at a door used by any one else in Sturton, who thought it necessary to be so ceremonious as to give notice before they entered their neighbour's dwelling. Dame Dorothy ceased her spinning, and rose to open the door, curtesying with natural politeness, and inviting her visitor to be seated.