Presently denser became the crowd.  Round some of the waggons. 
Men in a passion were quarrelling, women also were screaming. 
Then of a sudden approach’d an aged man with firm footstep
Marching straight up to the fighters; and forthwith was hush’d the contention,
When he bade them be still, and with fatherly earnestness threaten’d. 
“Are we not yet,” he exclaim’d, “by misfortune so knitted together,
As to have learnt at length the art of reciprocal patience
And toleration, though each cannot measure the actions of others? 
Prosperous men indeed may quarrel!  Will sorrow not teach you
How no longer as formerly you should quarrel with brethren? 
Each should give way to each other, when treading the soil of the stranger,
And, as you hope for mercy yourselves, you should share your possessions.”

Thus the man address’d them, and all were silent.  In peaceful
Humour the reconciled men look’d after their cattle and waggons. 
When the pastor heard the man discourse in this fashion,
And the foreign magistrate’s peaceful nature discovered,
He approach’d him in turn, and used this significant language
“Truly, Father, when nations are living in days of good fortune,
Drawing their food from the earth, which gladly opens its treasures,
And its wish’d-for gifts each year and each month is renewing,
Then all matters go smoothly; each thinks himself far the wisest,
And the best, and so they exist by the side of each other,
And the most sensible man no better than others is reckon’d
For the world moves on, as if by itself and in silence. 
But when distress unsettles our usual manner of living,
Pulls down each time-honour’d fabric, and roots up the seed in our gardens,
Drives the man and his wife far away from the home they delight in,
Hurries them off in confusion through days and nights full of anguish,
Ah! then look we around in search of the man who is wisest,
And no longer in vain he utters his words full of wisdom. 
Tell me whether you be these fugitives’ magistrate, Father,
Over whose minds you appear to possess such an influence soothing? 
Aye, to-day I could deem you one of the leaders of old time,
Who through wastes and through deserts conducted the wandering people;
I could imagine ’twas Joshua I am addressing, or Moses.”

Then with solemn looks the magistrate answer’d as follows
“Truly the present times resemble the strangest of old times,
Which are preserved in the pages of history, sacred or common. 
He in these days who has lived to-day and yesterday only,
Many a year has lived, events so crowd on each other. 
When I reflect back a little, a grey old age I could fancy
On my head to be lying, and yet my strength is still active. 
Yes, we people in truth may liken ourselves to those others
Unto whom in a fiery bush appear’d, in a solemn
Moment, the Lord our God; in fire and clouds we behold him.”