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Memoirs of Henry Hunt, Esq. — Volume 1 by Henry Hunt
page 39 of 355 (10%)

I left this school at the age of ten years. During the holidays I had
frequent means of seeing, and now first began to reflect, and make my
observations upon, the situation of the labouring poor of the parish of
Enford; for my mother devoted a very great portion of her time to
relieving the wants of those who, either through illness or accident,
stood in need of assistance; and although she was herself in a very weakly
state of health, yet neither inclemency of the weather, nor the distance,
ever deterred her from going in person to visit, to comfort, and to
assist, those of her fellow-creatures who were in distress. It was quite
enough for her to know, that any of her poor neighbours were in want, to
command her immediate aid. How often, when she was about to relieve some
one whom they supposed to be an unworthy object, who had brought want on
his own head by misconduct or crime, have I heard even my father, as well
as other friends, endeavour in vain to persuade her, that her
indiscriminate charity did almost as much harm as good. Her answer always
was, having first quoted some amiable Christian precept, "would you leave
them to starve, and thus drive them to despair? They are in want of bread;
and, after I have relieved them from their present distress, I shall have
some claim to their attention; and by setting them a _good Christian
example_, I shall be the better enabled to enforce the mild and wholesome
doctrines of religion. Surely, I shall have a much better chance of
reforming and reclaiming them by the _practice of kindness_, than I should
have by treating them with neglect, or casting on them the chilling and
forbidding look of harshness." And here let me observe, that if there ever
was a human being who acted up to the spirit and letter of Christianity,
both in profession and practice, I believe my excellent departed mother to
have been that mortal. Her greatest pleasure consisted in doing good; and
to pour the healing balm of comfort into the wounded and afflicted breast,
was to her the very essence of delight. Surrounded by every comfort
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