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History of Orange County
Town of Montgomery
Page 30
Reader of this simple narrative! suppose we pause a moment on this page of our paper to reflect and ask the question, "How stands the account in public estimation between such a man, and the creature of mere dollars and cents, who has departed also to his final abode" What did the latter do, and what the nature and items of his cheerless account?" He spent his days, nights and years—yes, three score and ten of them till one foot was in the grave, and the other lifted to follow, in greedy anxiety and pursuit of wealth. He accomplished the longing desires of his heart, and treasured up one hundred thousand dollars, more or less. In the meantime he stinted himself, never spent five dollars to entertain his friends, rejoice the heart, or make society around him pleasant and agreeable. The trembling, shivering feet of the needy and heart broken were rudely turned away from his door, and he never enjoyed the luxury of a poor man’s blessing. The merchant, mechanic, laborer and domestic were chaffered with and screwed down to the last cent, which was either withheld or paid unwillingly. The lie of hard times, great expense and large payments for this charity and that public object were ever ready on his tongue.— Improvements, necessary and ornamental, to benefit the place that nourished and enlarged his garner, when he was unknown and in poverty—all moved harmoniously forward by the cheer and good will of his neighbors, while he slunk away into the privacy of his dwelling, alone and solitary. The slumbers of the night were dangerous and unwelcome, lest some felon should enter and despoil his dwelling. At last he died, and the mourners went not “about the streets,” for he lived unrespected and died unregretted. He laid no basis in the hearts and affections of his neighbors for a grateful remembrance; dollars and cents were his gods, and those only he worshipped. The next generation rise up and enquire for his deeds that adorned society and benefited the world around him, and ask for the institutions in church and state founded by the expenditure of his wealth, that they may honor his memory and chant his praise. Alas! he toiled for heirs he knew not who, died, was buried, is forgotten, and his deeds perished with him. Who dare say that the Fates were unjust? Reader! we would rather risk our way to kindness and respect while living, and to Heaven and grateful remembrance when dead, along the broad but beaten highway of hard but honest poverty, with now and then a mite in the proper treasury, than through the narrow, screwing, tortuous by-path of grinding avarice. We have but one life to live and that is probationary; we can take nothing with us but a name; and is it not best so to act and upend our days as to earn and insure by our means and condition the joint approbation of God and man? The things are possible and not inconsistent. We know that many may call our aged and departed friend, whose life we have briefly and imperfectly noticed, indiscreet, perhaps a fool, for expending his time and means upon subjects from which he received no immediate or visibly returning benefit; yet we think we see, as we look along down the pathway of coming time, thousands rising up to honor his name and bless his memory. That vision of itself, if you and I could make it our own, would exceedingly outweigh the value of this world’s goods, and is emphatically that for which the good man lives.
MR. FISHER.—We recollect an old gentleman by this name, who lived at Neelytown on the land of William Eager in a small revolutionary house in a field; and we should do violence to our early recollections if we omitted to mention him in our paper. His occupation is not recollected. He was a straight, genteel, elderly person, and wore a cocked hat, a fashion at the time still preserved and persevered in by a few of the old gentlemanly school. He kept a favorite cat, which, though generally well bred, would occasionally trespass upon and break over the rules of domestic decorum. We know not the Christian profession of Mr. Fisher, but it seemed he was in the habit of asking a blessing over the scanty provisions of his table. This, of itself, showed a grateful heart and spoke a volume in his favor. One day, as he sat down to partake of his frugal meal an unoccupied chair was accidentally placed near the table and on the same side at which he sat. Mr. Fisher began to ask a blessing, and at that instant the cat jumped up on the vacant chair, and as the grace was being pronounced, raised up, placed one foot on the table, and with a doubtful hesitation thrust forward the other towards the dish of meat which was just within her reach. Fisher, though thus solemnly engaged, saw the crisis coming, and prepared to meet it or lose his meal. As the blessing ran on, Fisher kept an eye fixed on the cat, and at the same time drew up his right arm, with the fist firmly clenched, ready to assault the intruder. The suspicious and forward movement of the cat, the fierce glare of Fisher’s eye, the drawing up of the arm and quickened enunciation of the blessing, all ran on together for an instant; and as he pronounced “Amen,” just in the nick of time, struck the unsuspecting cat off the chair and across his cabin, accompanied with the blessing—”Take that, you little, thieving d—l.”