OLD HUMPHREY TO HIS HONOURED ANCIENT, ON HER NINETIETH BIRTHDAY. January 16, 1851. HAIL! honoured Ancient. Once again With me the changing scenes that fly Not that I walk in pathways fair, Amid the flitting seasons past, Has God illumed with light your ways, Say, does the Lord of life and love Will He, whose love has bless'd your brow This prayer I freely would impart, Thus be it, honoured Friend, with you! OLD HUMPHREY ON MITIGATIONS. A GOOD and pleasant subject is a great advantage to an author. When he has to tell his reader unwelcome truths, and to oppose his opinions and his prejudices, it is sad up-hill work; but when, in a kind-hearted spirit, he hits on a subject in which he can take his reader with him, willing to be pleased or profited, it is like going down a gentle slope, all ease and effortless; down such a slope would I now go, discoursing on the subject of mitigations. The great lexicographer tells us that a mitigation is an "abatement of anything penal, harsh, or painful." I shall apply the word as a reliever or lessener of the mental and bodily afflictions to which humanity is liable. A letter from a friend,* which now lies before me, has drawn my thoughts to this subject. Would that I could do it justice. Would that I could comfort the hearts of a thousand afflicted ones, by opening their eyes to discern the manifold *The late Mr. W. F. Lloyd. mitigations which surround them. the letter runs thus : One part of "Since I have been a cripple, I have become wondrously leg-wise, leg-considerate, and legsympathizing: this is one of the collateral advantages of lameness: but now for the mitigations. Old Humphrey must write a paper on this subject. I have derived much alleviation from acute pains from the electric chain. I get good spring water, and take it freely at night; and twice in that season I take a cup of cocoa, having a fire in my bed-room all night. I have bought a pony phaeton, so that I can ride out daily and get fresh air. Now, if you cannot make a good paper on this subject, I shall think it your own fault, and perhaps give you an unmitigated admonition." Though my good friend has, in this part of his letter, confined himself to a few only of the things that minister to his comfort, in another part he alludes to other sources of relief, and among them to the kind hearts by which he is surrounded. So far from quailing at his conditional threat, I am hopefully looking forward to a ride with him in his pony phaeton, fearless of his "unmitigated admonition." Rightly considered, this subject of mitigations is a very consolatory one. In the days of my childhood, I was once much interested in listening to the remarks of an American. "Our country," said he, "is much infested with poisonous reptiles, but we are not without our mitigations; for where rattlesnakes abound, rattlesnake herb grows, so that when bitten by the snake we chew the herb and are healed." This struck me at the time as a very merciful provision; but I need not pause to inquire into the truth of the allegation, having a much surer declaration in the Holy Scriptures of the merciful mitigations of our heavenly Father: "Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and he shall sustain thee." "He stayeth his rough wind in the day of the east wind." "No chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous: nevertheless afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them which are exercised thereby." Forty years ago, I knew a friend who was then in the full possession of all her faculties. She was wedded to one of the worthy of the world, who sometimes, when giving a lecture on geology to his friends, would playfully observe, in allusion to his partner, who was from Cornwall, that though the specimens of British gems on the table were not without their value, he had in his possession a Cornish diamond of much |