. 222 THE LIFE OF JOHN HOWARD. INTRODUCTION. "WHAT is the meaning of the word philanthropist ?" said a boy of twelve years of age, as he turned over a book of engravings, and saw written underneath one of them, JOHN HOWARD, THE PHILANTHROPIST. "It means," replied his father, a man who loves the whole human race well enough to devote himself to their service, and is willing to sacrifice his own ease and pleasure to their good." "I should not think," continued the boy, "that any one could love people he had never seen, well enough to make great sacrifices for them." "And yet, my son, when you heard, the other day, of the dreadful sufferings of the inhabitants of the Cape Verde Islands, you pitied them very much, and were willing to contribute some of your pocket-money to their relief; now, when you grow up to be a man, if you should be convinced that by going to those Islands, you would do the people great good, and prevent their being again in such a suffering condition, do you not think you should be willing to give up the comfort of your own home, and make a voyage there? “To be sure I should," said Harry, and his eyes sparkled at the thought of being useful. "Well, then, you would be a philanthropist, that is, a lover of your fellow beings." "I should be glad to do them good, father; but I should not love them as I do you, and mother, and Lizzy." 'True, it is a different kind of love; at your age, it is perfectly natural and proper, that those immediately around you, to whom you are indebted for your daily comforts and happiness, should engage your warmest love; but as your knowledge increases, and your mind enlarges, I hope your affections will spread out, so as at last to comprise the whole human family. The same feeling which makes you now take pleasure in giving up your own convenience to your sister's, and makes you, in the midst of your own play, run willingly on an errand for your mother, will, by constant exercise, make you in time a faithful friend, a good neighbour, a patriot, and a philanthropist. Each of those characters requires a wider and wider extension of your love." All the time his father was speaking, Harry kept his eyes fixed upon the print of John Howard, and after examining it very attentively he "He has a kind look, and a very earnest look too." said, "Ah," said his father," it may well look kind and earnest too, if it be a likeness of that extraordinary man; for he was perhaps the greatest philanthropist that ever lived, and his perseverance was equal to his love. You see he is called "Howard, the Philanthropist," as if there were none other like him, and truly there probably never was his equal. He was a man of an independent fortune, and might have lived at home and enjoyed his ease among a circle of admiring friends and grateful neighbours; but after doing much good in his own neighbourhood, and performing all his duties to his own family, a wider field of usefulness opened to him, and he devoted himself wholly to it. He exposed himself to the greatest dangers and privations, underwent such fatigue as few could have endured, spent one hundred and fifty thousand dollars, and travelled between fifty and sixty thousand miles, for the sole purpose of relieving the distresses of his fellow beings all over Europe; and so earnest was he, in the pursuit of this good object, that he could not be turned aside by the extremes of heat or cold, by the worst roads and meanest accommodations; neither plague, pestilence, nor famine could stop his progress; on he went, devoting himself to the good of others, till his life was sacrificed in the cause." "He was a philanthropist indeed!" said Harry, "I should like to know more about him, and how it was that he could do good by travelling in foreign countries. I thought that people travelled to see sights and amuse themselves." "So they do in general," said Mr. M, "and John Howard first travelled in that way; but afterwards his foreign tours were undertaken for the purpose of mitigating the sufferings of the most wretched of mankind; he devoted himself to visiting prisons and hospitals, that he might find out abuses, and point out the best means of correcting them. He was the friend of those whose misery was hid in dungeons, and whose cries were heard only by their oppressors and fellow sufferers, till he nobly took up their cause, and lived and died in their service. I consider him the most remarkable example of disinterest |