On Mr. Read being informed of these particulars, he was induced to return to the stranger with a view to converse with him. He says “There was a peculiar bluntness in his manner of expressing himself, but it was very far removed from any thing of churlishness or incivility. All his answers were pertinent, and were sometimes given in such measured terms as quite astonished me. The following was a part of our conversation.—‘Well, my friend, what are you about?’ ‘Making scissor-chains, sir.’ ‘And how long does it take you to make one?’ With peculiar archness he looked up in my face, (for his head always rested upon his bosom, so that the back part of it was depressed nearly to the same horizontal plane with his shoulders,) and with a complacent smile, said, ‘Ah! and you will next ask me how many I make in a day; and then what the wire costs me; and afterwards what I sell them for.’ From the indirectness of his reply, I was induced to conclude that he was in the habit of making something considerable from his employment, and wished to conceal the amount of his gains.” It appeared, however, that he was unable, even with success in disposing of his wares, to earn more than sixpence or sevenpence a day, and that his apparent reluctance to make known his poverty proceeded from habitual contentment.
Mr. Read asked him, why he followed a vagrant life, in preference to a stationary one, in which he would be better known, and more respected? “The nature of my business,” he replied, “requires that I should move about from place to place, that, having exhausted my custom in one spot, I may obtain employment in another. Besides,” added he, “my mode of life has at least this advantage, that if I leave my friends behind me, I leave also my enemies.”
When asked his age, he replied, with a strong and firm voice, “That is a question which I am frequently asked, as if persons supposed me to be a great age: why, I am a mere boy.”
“A mere boy!” repeated Mr. Read; “and pray what do you mean by that expression?”—“I am sixty-five years of age, sir; and with a light heel and a cheerful heart, hope to hold out a considerable time longer.” In the course of the conversation, he said, “It is not often that I am honoured with the visits of clergymen. Two gentlemen, however, of your profession once came to me when I was at ——, in ——, and I expressed a hope that I should derive some advantage from their conversation. ‘We are come,’ said they, ‘with the same expectation to you, for we understand that you know many things.’ I told them that I feared they would be greatly disappointed.” He then stated that the old scholastic question was proposed to him, “Why has God given us two ears and one mouth?” “I replied,” said he, “that we may hear twice as much as we speak;” adding, with his accustomed modesty, “I should not have been able to have given an answer to this question if I had not heard it before.”
Before they parted, Mr. Read lamented the differences that existed between persons of various religious persuasions. The old man rejoined in a sprightly tone, “No matter; there are two sides to the river.” His readiness in reply was remarkable. Whatever he said implied contentment, cheerfulness, and genuine piety. Before Mr. Read took leave of him, he inquired how long he intended to remain in the village. He answered, “I do not know; but as I have house-room and fire without any tax, I am quite satisfied with my situation, and only regret the trouble I am occasioning to my kind host.”
Until the twentieth of the month Mr. Read saw but little of him. On the morning of that day he met him creeping along under a vast burden; for on the preceding Monday he had set out on a journey to Bristol, to procure a fresh stock of wire, and with half a hundred weight of wire upon his back, and three halfpence in his pocket, the sole remains of his scanty fund, he was now returning on foot, after having passed two days on the road, and the intervening night before a coal-pit fire in a neighbouring village. The snow was deep upon the ground, and the scene indescribably desolate. Mr. Read was glad to see him, and inquired if he were not very tired. “A little, a little,” he replied, and taking off his hat, he asked if he could execute any thing for me. An order for some trifling articles, brought him to Mr. Read on the following Wednesday, who entered into conversation with him, and says, “he repeated many admirable adages, with which his memory appeared to be well stored, and incidentally touched on the word cleanliness. Immediately I added, ‘cleanliness is next to godliness;’ and seized the opportunity which I had long wanted, but from fear of wounding his mind hesitated to embrace, to tell him of the absence of that quality in himself. He with much good nature replied, ‘I believe I am substantially clean. I have a clean shirt every week: my business, however, necessarily makes me dirty in my person.’ ‘But why do you not dress more tidily, and take more care of yourself? You know that God hath given us the comforts of life that we may enjoy them. Cannot you afford yourself these comforts?’ ‘That question,’ said he emphatically, but by no means rudely, ‘you should have set out with. No, sir, I cannot afford myself these comforts.’”
Mr. Read perceiving his instep to be inflamed, and that he had a miserable pair of shoes, pressed a pair of his own upon him.
On the following day he visited him, and found him working upon his chains while sitting,—a posture in which he did not often indulge. Mr. Read looked at his foot, and found the whole leg prodigiously swollen and discoloured. It had inflamed and mortified from fatigue of walking and inclemency of the weather during the journey to Bristol. Mr. Read insisted on his having medical assistance. “The doctor is expected in the village to-day, and you must see him: I will give orders for him to call in upon you.” “That is kind, very kind,” he replied. At this moment an ignorant talker in the shop exclaimed in a vexatious and offensive manner, that he would not have such a leg (taking off his hat) “for that, full of guineas.” The old man looked up somewhat sharply at him, and said, “nor I, if I could help it.” The other, however, proceeded with his ranting. The afflicted man added, “You only torture me by your observations.” This was the only instance approaching to impatience he manifested.
It appears that of late he had slept in one corner of the workshop, upon the bare earth, without his clothes, and with the only blanket he had, wrapped round his shoulders. It was designed to procure him a bed in a better abode; but he preferred remaining where he was, and only requested some clean straw. He seemed fixed to his purpose; every thing was arranged, as well as could be, for his accommodation.
Early the next morning Mr. Read found the swelling and blackness extending themselves rapidly towards the vital parts. The poor fellow was at times delirious, and convulsed; but he dozed during the greater part of the day. It was perceived from an involuntary gesture of the medical gentleman on his entrance, that he had not before witnessed many such objects. He declared there was but little hope of life. Warm fomentations, and large doses of bark and port wine were administered. A bed was provided in a neighbouring house, and Mr. Read informed the patient of his wish to remove him to it, and his anxiety that he should take the medicines prescribed. He submitted to every thing proposed, and added, “One night more, and I shall be beyond the clouds.”