If such were the sentiments of Mr. Tyrrel, his patience found ample
exercise in the language which was held by the rest of his neighbours on
the same subject. While he saw nothing in Mr. Falkland but matter of
contempt, they appeared to be never weary of recounting his praises.
Such dignity, such affability, so perpetual an attention to the
happiness of others, such delicacy of sentiment and expression! Learned
without ostentation, refined without foppery, elegant without
effeminacy! Perpetually anxious to prevent his superiority from being
painfully felt, it was so much the more certainly felt to be real, and
excited congratulation instead of envy in the spectator. It is scarcely
necessary to remark, that the revolution of sentiment in this rural
vicinity belongs to one of the most obvious features of the human mind.
The rudest exhibition of art is at first admired, till a nobler is
presented, and we are taught to wonder at the facility with which before
we had been satisfied. Mr. Tyrrel thought there would be no end to the
commendation; and expected when their common acquaintance would fall
down and adore the intruder. The most inadvertent expression of applause
inflicted upon him the torment of demons. He writhed with agony, his
features became distorted, and his looks inspired terror. Such suffering
would probably have soured the kindest temper; what must have been its
effect upon Mr. Tyrrel's, always fierce, unrelenting, and abrupt?

The advantages of Mr. Falkland seemed by no means to diminish with their
novelty. Every new sufferer from Mr. Tyrrel's tyranny immediately went
over to the standard of his adversary. The ladies, though treated by
their rustic swain with more gentleness than the men, were occasionally
exposed to his capriciousness and insolence. They could not help
remarking the contrast between these two leaders in the fields of
chivalry, the one of whom paid no attention to any one's pleasure but
his own, while the other seemed all good-humour and benevolence. It was