"You used to teach girls," she said. "If you could only have taught me, I could have learned from you! I am so very miserable, and like you so much!"
How the Jellyby children loved and trusted Esther! How all children loved and trusted her for her true sympathy!
Poor Jo swept the steps at the graveyard where the friend who spoke kindly to him lay buried, and he always said of him, "He wos wery good to me, he wos."
And Jo"s other friends, Mr. Snagsby, whose sympathy drew half crowns from his pocket, and Mr. George, and Doctor Woodcourt, and Mr. Jarndyce, and Esther, showed their kindly sympathy for the wretched boy so fully that the reading world loved them as real friends, and this loving admiration led the Christian world to think more clearly in regard to Christ"s teachings about the little ones.
No heart can resist the plea for sympathy for such as Jo in the description of his last illness and death. When the end was very near, as Allan Woodcourt was watching the heavy breathing of the sufferer,
After a short relapse into sleep or stupor he makes of a sudden a strong effort to get out of bed.
"Stay, Jo! What now?"
"It"s time for me to go to that there berryin"-ground, sir," he returns with a wild look.
"Lie down, and tell me. What burying-ground, Jo?"
"Where they laid him as wos wery good to me, wery good to me indeed, he wos. It"s time fur me to go down to that there berryin"-ground, sir, and ask to be put along with him. I wants to go there and be berried. He used fur to say to me, "I am as poor as you to-day, Jo,"
he ses. I wants to tell him that I am as poor as him now, and have come there to be laid along with him."
"By and bye, Jo. By and bye."
"Ah! P"raps they wouldn"t do it if I was to go myself. But will you promise to have me took there, sir, and laid along with him?"
"I will, indeed."
"Thank"ee, sir. Thank"ee, sir. They"ll have to get the key of the gate afore they can take me in, for it"s allus locked. And there"s a step there, as I used for to clean with my broom.--It"s turned wery dark, sir. Is there any light a-comin"?"
"It is coming fast, Jo."
Fast. The cart is shaken all to pieces, and the rugged road is very near its end.
"Jo, my poor fellow!"
"I hear you, sir, in the dark, but I"m a-gropin"--a-gropin"--let me catch hold of your hand."
"Jo, can you say what I say?"
"I"ll say anythink as you say, sir, for I knows it"s good."
"OUR FATHER."
"Our Father!--yes, that"s wery good, sir."
"WHICH ART IN HEAVEN."
"Art in Heaven--is the light a-comin", sir?"
"It is close at hand. HALLOWED BE THY NAME!"
"Hallowed be--thy----"
The light is come upon the dark benighted way. Dead!
Dead, your majesty. Dead, my lords and gentlemen. Dead, right reverends and wrong reverends of every order. Dead, men and women, born with heavenly compa.s.sion in your hearts. And dying thus around us every day.
One of the best of d.i.c.kens"s ill.u.s.trations of grat.i.tude for sympathy is the case of Phil Squod, Mr. George"s a.s.sistant in the shooting gallery. He was a mere child in everything but years of hard experiences, but he was devoted heart and soul to Mr. George for a kindly word of hearty sympathy.
So devoted was he that he attached himself to Mr. George and became his faithful servant, and found his truest happiness in his service of love.
Phil recalled the story to Mr. George.
"It was after the case-filling blow-up when I first see you, commander. You remember?"
"I remember, Phil. You were walking along in the sun."
"Crawling, guv"ner, again a wall----"
"True, Phil--shouldering your way on----"
"In a nightcap!" exclaims Phil, excited.
"In a nightcap----"
"And hobbling with a couple of sticks!" cries Phil, still more excited.
"With a couple of sticks. When----"
"When you stops, you know," cries Phil, putting down his cup and saucer, and hastily removing his plate from his knees, "and says to me, "What, comrade! You have been in the wars!" I didn"t say much to you, commander, then, for I was took by surprise that a person so strong and healthy and bold as you was should stop to speak to such a limping bag of bones as I was. But you says to me, says you, delivering it out of your chest as hearty as possible, so that it was like a gla.s.s of something hot: "What accident have you met with? You have been badly hurt. What"s amiss, old boy? Cheer up, and tell us about it!" Cheer up! I was cheered already! I says as much to you, you says more to me, I says more to you, you says more to me, and here I am, commander! Here I am, commander!" cries Phil, who has started from his chair and unaccountably begun to sidle away. "If a mark"s wanted, or if it will improve the business, let the customers take aim at me.
They can"t spoil _my_ beauty. _I"m_ all right. Come on! If they want a man to box at, let "em box at me. Let "em knock me well about the head. _I_ don"t mind! if they want a light weight, to be throwed for practice, Cornwall, Devonshire, or Lancashire, let "em throw me. They won"t hurt _me_. I have been throwed all sorts of styles all my life!"
Pip said in Great Expectations:
It is not possible to know how far the influence of any amiable, honest-hearted, duty-doing man flies out into the world; but it is very possible to know how it has touched one"s self in going by, and I know right well that any good that intermixed itself with my apprenticeship came of plain contented Joe, and not of restless aspiring discontented me.
Dear, simple-hearted Joe Gargery! When every one else was abusing Pip at the great dinner party, he showed his sympathy for him by putting some more gravy on his plate.
In Our Mutual Friend Lizzie Hexam, sympathizing with her father so much that she would not learn to read because he was bitterly prejudiced against education, but sympathizing so much with her brother Charley that she had him educated secretly so that he might become a teacher, is an ill.u.s.tration of nearly perfect sympathy.
The happiness of the little "minders" at old Betty Higden"s is in sharp contrast to the misery of the boarders of the respectable (?) establishment of Mrs. Pipchin. In the one case was abject poverty and loving sympathy, in the other plenty and cruel selfishness. When Mr. and Mrs. Boffin were adopting Johnnie from Betty Higden"s care, the brave old woman said:
"If I could have kept the dear child without the dread that"s always upon me of his coming to that fate I have spoken of, I could never have parted with him, even to you. For I love him, I love him, I love him! I love my husband long dead and gone, in him; I love my children dead and gone, in him; I love my young and hopeful days dead and gone, in him. I couldn"t sell that love, and look you in your bright kind face. It"s a free gift."
Betty was not a logically reasoning woman, but G.o.d is good, and hearts may count in heaven as high as heads.
d.i.c.kens spoke with great enthusiasm in his American Notes of the practical sympathy of Doctor Howe with all afflicted children, especially with blind children, closing his sketch of the wonderful work he had done with the sentence: "There are not many persons, I hope and believe, who after reading these pa.s.sages can ever hear that name with indifference." He noted that Laura Bridgman had a special desire for sympathy.
She is fond of having other children noticed and caressed by the teachers, and those whom she respects; but this must not be carried too far, or she becomes jealous. She wants to have her share, which, if not the lion"s, is the greater part; and if she does not get it, she says, "_My mother will love me_."