Litchfield Enquirer

From the Newark Daily Advertiser.

A PASTORAL BELLE.

From our attachment to simplicity in writing, we read Sterne more attentively than Scott, and prefer a story in Genesis to a volume in Gibbon. It appears to me, notwithstanding all skeptical sarcasms, that the mode of writing which finds a ready way to the heart was never more successfully achieved than by the Orientals. On turning over, agreeably to usual practice, the pages of scripture, the other evening, I dwelt with indescribable pleasure upon certain passages in the life of the patriarch Abraham. We had passed the afternoon in what is called modish company, and yet could not avoid remarking that the extreme selfishness of men and women of the world led them, even at a moment when they had assembled for ostentatious civility, to behave discourteously. If such rudeness, I murmured to myself, can be tolerated in a refined age, let me contemplate the behavior of those of old time, before dancing masters were discovered, and when message cards were not sent from one Patriarch's lady to another. I found, as I expected, that even herdsmen and shepherds had as much genuine politeness as Lord Chesterfield, and that a country maiden, the daughter of Bethuel, the son of Milcah, could behave with as much propriety as though she had been educated in a boarding school. The story of this pastoral girl's conduct I wish to tell at large, and that the delicacy of fashionable readers would allow me on this occasion so much pedantry as to quote the original. But, as a whole chapter in Genesis might appear too long, let us briefly rehearse the story in modern phrase.

Abraham, a most affectionate parent, perceiving that his life declined, and zealous with the anxiety of age, for an establishment for Isaac, entreats a confidential steward of his household that he would not suffer the inexperienced heart of his son to be captivated by the Canaanitish beauties. At the earnest request of the Patriarch, the servant binds himself to solicit for Isaac a wife of his own rank, religion, and country. After sanctioning this promise by one of the most tremendous oaths among the Jewish usages, he harnesses his camels, and departs for Mesopotamia. On his arrival at the suburbs of Nabor, a city of that country, fatigued with a tedious journey, and tender of his trudging camels, he makes them kneel by a well of water, to take their necessary refreshment. In this weary moment Rebekah appears; and the first accents that fell from the parched tongue of the traveller were to solicit a little water from the pitcher which she carried. "And she made haste and let down her pitcher from her shoulder, and said 'drink, and I will give thy camels drink also.'" Let us now gaze earnestly at these simple, yet beautiful, features.

The female, whose courtesy is thus recorded, was a woman of some distinction in those pastoral times. Her father was of a stock abundantly respectable, for he was allied to Abraham, and her brother was the opulent Laban, whose cattle strayed "on a thousand hills." Engaged in domestic duty, she meets a stranger, in the garb probably of a hireling, for he is called a "servant," begrimmed with dust, and having no claim to her favor. She is asked for water, which she cheerfully gives, and the careless reader will not be aware of the extent of the obligation, if he has not surveyed a map of Palestine, and adverted to the sandiness and thirst of the soil. In that arid region, a brook was a more joyous sight to a panting shepherd, than a bumper to the votary of wine; the invaluable well-spring, eagerly sought and obstinately contended for, by different tribes, was, from the nature of the earth, at such a distance below the surface, that to obtain water, was a work of both toil and time.—But, forgetting her home, forgetting herself, and, "disdaining little delicacies," she thinks only of the sufferings of the way-faring stranger; and with that "kind charity," which the Apostle emphasises, with that genuine, disinterested civility beyond the court of Versailles, the tedious descent of the well she repeatedly tries, and the cooling pitcher imparts, not only to man, but to his unpetitioning beasts.

"Drink," says the generous girl, and trust me, I can feel likewise for your burdened companions, "for I will give thy camels drink also." This was benevolence! such as is not generally found. It was eminently disinterested, prompt and diffusive. It was disinterested, for the tongue which she cooled was not that of a youthful gallant, trolling the oily phrases of flattery. He who drained the pitcher which the assiduity of Rebekah filled, was an old man, a servant, and a stranger. It was prompt; for she "hasted," and she "ran" to do good, and drew water "for all the camels;" though the troop consisted of ten. It was diffusive, for they were minutely regarded no less than the proprietor.

I warmly wish that the manners of many who deem themselves polished, were, at the present day, as excellent, as those of this primitive well bred woman. Frequenting no assemblies but those of the next green, or meadow; receiving no lessons of good breeding but those which her own warm heart dictated: we find her deportment graceful, though she never paid a dancing master; we find her a maid of honor, though she never saw a court!

True politeness, unlike that of men of the mode, consists in actually rendering little services to our neighbor, rather than in the ostentatious promise of great ones. Indifferent to its own ease, it thinks much of another's, discerns the latent wish, and supersedes the necessity of asking favors by seasonably bestowing them.