troops were
defiling. Great was the surprise of the King when he saw the Quaker
draw up alongside of him, but still greater, perhaps, was the confusion
of the Quaker at finding himself in such company.
During the later years of his life, while living at Bristol, his hand
was in every good work; and it was often felt where it was not seen.
For he carefully avoided ostentation, and preferred doing his good in
secret. He strongly disapproved of making charitable bequests by will,
which he observed in many cases to have been the foundation of enormous
abuses, but held it to be the duty of each man to do all the possible
good that he could during his lifetime. Many were the instances of his
princely, though at the time unknown, munificence. Unwilling to be
recognised as the giver of large sums, he employed agents to dispense
his anonymous benefactions. He thus sent 20,000L. to London to be
distributed during the distress of 1795. He had four almoners
constantly employed in Bristol, finding out cases of distress,
relieving them, and presenting their accounts to him weekly, with
details of the cases relieved. He searched the debtors' prisons, and
where, as often happened, deserving but unfortunate men were found
confined for debt, he paid the claims against them and procured their
release. Such a man could not fail to be followed with blessings and
gratitude; but these he sought to direct to the Giver of all Good. "My
talent," said he to a friend, "is the meanest of all talents--a little
sordid dust; but as the man in the parable who had but one talent was
held accountable, I also am accountable for the talent that I possess,
humble as it is, to the great Lord of all." On one occasion the case
of a poor orphan boy was submitted to him, whose parents, both dying
young, had left him destitute, on which Mr. Reynolds generously offered
to place a sum in the names of trustees for his education and
maintenance until he could be apprenticed to a business. The lady who
represented the case was so overpowered by the munificence of the act
that she burst into tears, and, struggling to express her gratitude,
concluded with--"and when the dear child is old enough, I will teach
him to thank his benefactor." "Thou must teach him to look higher,"
interrupted Reynolds: "Do we thank the clouds for rain? When the child
grows up, teach him to thank Him who sendeth both the clouds and the
rain." Reynolds himself deplored his infirm
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