Memoirs of Henry Hunt, Esq., vol 2 | Page 9

and patriotic offer which I had made was talked of all over the county by the rich and by the poor.
At this period I was living in what was called great style; my mansion being generally full of company. But in the midst of this profligate course of life, for so it might, with great truth, be called, I was not unmindful of the wants and the privations of the poor, and I never failed to do every thing in my power to relieve their distresses, and at the same time protect them from oppression. Hunting and shooting were my great delight; but, fond as I was of these sports, I never neglected the call of a poor man or a poor woman, to attend on his or her behalf, at a justice meeting, to advocate their cause, and defend them against the arbitrary and cruel attacks of any little dirty tyrant, who might have premeditated to oppress them. For this conduct I was branded, behind my back, by the quorum, and all the jacks in office under them, as a _busy, meddling, officious fellow;_ but this never deterred me from doing that which I believe to be, and which I had been taught to be, the duty of a good Christian, namely, my duty towards my neighbour. If the petty despots of the neighbourhood levelled their sneers at me behind my back, I was more than repaid, I was most amply rewarded, for this indignity, by a self-approving conscience, and by the grateful thanks and blessings of the poor, whenever I came in contact with them. They were not only civil and respectful towards me and my family, but they were always ready to fly to do me any act of kindness within their power. Whenever any particular exertion was required in my farming business, it was only for me to hint my wish, and it was not only set about without expostulation or grumbling, but it was sure to be executed and accomplished with alacrity and cheerfulness; for they never had any doubt of my punctuality in repaying them with an equitable and a liberal hand. This was a delightful state of society; each we would act otherwise than we did, is the weakness of folly; for if we were placed in the very same situation, at the same age, with the same inexperience, and impelled by the same impetuous youthful passions; under similar circumstances, depend upon it we should commit the self-same errors that we have now to regret. As for myself, instead of indulging in this sort of weakness, I look back upon my past errors with a sort of awful reverence for the benignity of the divine will of my Maker; and, when I prostrate myself before God, and offer up a silent, although an ardent thanksgiving for all his goodness to me, an insignificant human being, I never forget to pour out my most grateful and unbounded acknowledgments to him for his having permitted me to pass through life hitherto so well as I have done, without having committed any premeditated or deadly sin, such as would bear down and oppress my soul with conscious guilt, and place me in that deplorable situation which is so beautifully expressed by a sublime author: "of all mortals, those are the most exquisitely miserable, who groan beneath the pressure of a melancholy mind, or labour under the stings of a guilty conscience; a slave confined to the gallies, or an exile to punish--living and labouring for the mutual benefit and happiness of the whole.
Many of my readers will be surprised, and will exclaim, "how was it possible that Mr. Hunt, surrounded with so many blessings, and appearing so much to enjoy such a rational, desirable, delightful occupation, should have been led away, should have been betrayed into the guilt of dissipation?" Ah, my friends! how easy is it, in looking back upon past events, upon lost time, how easy is it for us to say, and what a common expression it is, in the mouth of almost every reflecting person, "_If my time were to come over again, how very differently would I act!_" But this sort of reasoning is very fallacious, it is unworthy a philosopher. When a person reflects upon particular events of his life, where his objects had failed for want of foresight, or for want of prudence, it may be excusable in him to express a wish, nay, it is almost impossible for any one to suppress an inward wish, that he had acted with more caution, discretion or prudence; but even a hankering wish of this sort is a weakness, although it may be an amiable and an excusable weakness. To wish at all for an impossibility, such as the recalling of