Charlemont; Or, The Pride of the Village. a Tale of KentuckySimms, William Gilmore
General
Charlemont; Or, The Pride of the Village. a Tale of Kentucky
Simms, William Gilmore
Kentucky -- Fiction
Such are the contradictions of character which hourly detect and
describe the mere worldling--the man lacking in all principle, but that
which is subservient to his selfish policy. To accept money or money's
worth from a stranger, seemed mean and humbling to one, who did not
hesitate, in the promotion of a scheme, which, had treachery for its
object, to clothe himself in the garments of deception, and to make
his appearance with a lie festering upon his lips. That evening, Alfred
Stevens became, with his worthier companion, an inmate of the happy
dwelling of William Hinkley, the elder--a venerable, white-headed
father, whose whole life had made him worthy of a far higher eulogium
than that which John Cross had pronounced upon him.
The delight of the family to see their reverend teacher was heartfelt
and unreserved. A vigorous gripe of the hand, by the elder dragged him
into the house, and a sentence of unusual length, from his better half,
assured him of that welcome which the blunter action of her venerable
husband had already sufficiently declared. Nor was the young adventurer
who accompanied the preacher, suffered to remain long unconsidered. When
John Cross had told them who he was, or rather when he had declared
his spiritual hopes in him--which he did with wonderful unction, in a
breath--the reception of old Hinkley, which had been hospitable enough
before, became warm and benignant; and Brother Stevens already became
the word of salutation, whenever the old people desired to distinguish
their younger guest.
Brother Stevens, it may be said here, found no difficulty in maintaining
the character he had assumed. He had, in high degree, the great art
of the selfish man, and could, when his game required it, subdue with
little effort, those emotions and impulses, which the frank and ardent
spirit must speak out or die. He went into the house of the hospitable
old man, and into the village of Charlemont, as if he had gone into the
camp of an enemy. He was, indeed, a spy, seeking to discover, not the
poverty, but the richness of the land. His mind, therefore, was like one
who has clothed himself in armor, placed himself in waiting for the foe,
and set all his sentinels on the watch. His caution measured every word
ere it was spoken, every look ere it was shown, every movement ere he
suffered his limbs to make it. The muscles of his face, were each put
under curb and chain--the smiles of the lip and the glances of the eyes,
were all subdued to precision, and permitted to go forth, only under
special guard and restriction. In tone, look, and manner, he strove as
nearly as he might to resemble the worthy but simple-minded man, who had
so readily found a worthy adherent and pupil in him; and his efforts
at deception might be held to be sufficiently successful, if the frank
confiding faith of the aged heads of the Hinkley family be the fitting
test of his experiment.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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