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| author | pgww <pgww@lists.pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:22:03 -0700 |
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| committer | pgww <pgww@lists.pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:22:03 -0700 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/77059-0.txt b/77059-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..071573e --- /dev/null +++ b/77059-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,18279 @@ + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77059 *** + + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + Transcriber’s Note: + +The volume is a collection of five previously published texts, each with +its own title page and pagination. + + THE PARK AND THE PADDOCK + THE TENTH HAYCOCK + THE JERSEYMEN MEETING + THE JERSEYMEN PARTING + THE SCHOLARS OF ARNESIDE + +This version of the text cannot represent certain typographical effects. +Italics are delimited with the ‘_’ character as _italic_. On each title +page, the phrase “A Tale” was printed in a blackletter font, which is +rendered here delimited by ‘=’. + +Minor errors, attributable to the printer, have been corrected. Please +see the transcriber’s note at the end of this text for details regarding +the handling of any textual issues encountered during its preparation. + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + ILLUSTRATIONS + + OF + + _TAXATION._ + + + --------------------- + + + No. I. + + THE + PARK AND THE PADDOCK. + + =A Tale.= + + BY + + HARRIET MARTINEAU. + + + --------------------- + + + + + LONDON: + CHARLES FOX, 67, PATERNOSTER-ROW. + + --- + + 834. + + + + + LONDON: + PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES, + Duke-street, Lambeth. + + + + + THE + PARK AND THE PADDOCK. + + =A Tale.= + + BY + + HARRIET MARTINEAU. + + + + + + + + + LONDON: + CHARLES FOX, 67, PATERNOSTER-ROW. + + --- + + 834. + + CONTENTS. + + CHAP. PAGE + 1. Pride of Patrimony 1 + 2. Patrimonial Appendages 15 + 3. Clerical Duty 29 + 4. Clerical Recreations 57 + 5. Vowed Sisterhood 73 + 6. Battles at Navarino 105 + 7. Lounging and Listening 129 + 8. Characteristics 135 + + + + + THE + PARK AND THE PADDOCK. + + + + + CHAPTER I. + + PRIDE OF PATRIMONY. + + +The inhabitants of the town of A were divided in opinion as to whether +they ought to be thankful or not for the new road having been brought +within a quarter of a mile of their marketplace. There were traditions, +in the memories of the old people, of their town having once been a +place of considerable importance; and a few vestiges of such importance +remained to gratify the pride, and fill up the spare hours of two or +three antiquarians within its bounds. The old people and these +antiquarians agreed in trembling for the fate of their beloved carved +gateways and projecting fronts of houses, amidst the brick edifices +which were springing up in the neighbourhood, and the new incentives to +improvement which had arisen; but they granted that every townsman ought +to wish for the increase of his native place in consequence and wealth. +There were some who already began to look contemptuously on the streets +of low, rambling houses, amidst which their days had been passed, and to +expend all their love and admiration on the new inn which flared upon +the scarce-finished road, and the sets of red “lodges,” “villas,” and +“cottages,” which stood in patches on the western outskirts of the town. +The builders of the place, of course, spoke much in praise of +improvement, and those whose house-property stood in the half empty +streets on the eastern side of A had no less to say against innovation. +There was little dispute, meanwhile, on one point: that the town had +always suffered from its being in the centre of a fine sporting country. +The dwellings of the gentry were, almost without exception, situated at +some distance among the moors or the fells. Even the physicians’ and +lawyers’ houses stood by themselves—in gardens or surrounded by walls—in +emulation of the mansions and shooting-boxes which might be seen from +the church tower; so that this church tower, and the blue slates of a +few meeting-houses rose from amidst a congregation of tradesmen’s +dwellings. The large old inn, the Turk’s Head, was almost the only +handsome house of any respectable age. The town was thought to suffer +much in the estimation of strangers from this deficiency; and the +inhabitants became the more sensible of it, the more strangers were +brought to cast a passing glance upon the place from the new road, or to +make a note of what they saw from the balcony of the modern inn, the +Navarino, while waiting for horses. + +A party of strangers arrived one day, whose opinion of the town was of +some consequence, as it might determine or prevent their residence in +the neighbourhood. They did not stop either at the Turk’s Head or at the +Navarino, but only for two minutes to inquire for the steward of +Fellbrow Park, who was found to have preceded the party to their +destination. News had circulated for some days past of the arrival of a +letter from young Mr. Cranston, declaring his intention of coming to +throw open the house, and to examine the estate which had been deserted +by his father for many years before his death. The steward was desired +not to draw a nail from the gates; and to make no further preparation +for the arrival of the heir than having workmen ready to open a way for +him into his own court-yard. + +Mr. Cranston, the elder, had taken a disgust to this abode, and quitted +it on the death of his lady, sixteen years ago. Before he drove away, +carrying with him his three little boys and his infant daughter, he +superintended the extraordinary ceremony of nailing iron plates over the +gates of the court-yard, and took effectual care that no part of the +old-fashioned wall which surrounded the house should be left in a state +to tempt foot to climb, or eye to look over it. His last charge to his +steward had been to see that not a tree was planted or felled,—not so +much as a weed pulled up, till further orders. The fish were to be +undisturbed in their ponds, and the game in their covers. All the +servants left behind were to be sinecurists till a change of policy or +of administration should arrive. Till the news of Mr. Cranston’s death, +all these directions had been complied with, except in as far as certain +instances of connivance might be regarded as breach of orders. If a few +aged neighbours were seen now and then helping themselves with firewood +from the thickets, and a youth might be descried from afar stealing +towards the ponds, or the game-keeper occasionally found certain of his +charge fluttering in springes, no notice was taken, and no remorse +followed, as it was decided that both ponds and covers remained as much +overstocked as the owner could possibly desire. The first change of +management took place when the approach of young Mr. Cranston was +announced. The steward was grieved at the thought that the heir should +see his estate in so desolate a condition, and took the liberty,—not to +fell trees,—but to clear away underwood, and weed and new-gravel the +walks which led from the entrance of the park to the house. A little +mowing of the grass, and trimming of some patches near the house which +were once flower-beds, further improved the aspect of the place, so as +to destroy all anticipation of what the family was likely to see within +doors. + +When the carriages stopped at the park entrance, the steward appeared to +pay his respects, and suggest that immediate orders should be sent to +one or other of the inns, to provide that accommodation which it was +impossible the house should afford. He must venture also to say that the +young lady would not find the place fit for her to enter. It would +really be better that she should not proceed this afternoon. + +Mr. Cranston had been,—not stretched out at length, for no carriage +could thus accommodate his length of limb,—but leaning back, reading, +till the last moment. He seemed sorry to be roused, even by his arrival +at his own estate, and to be greeted by his own steward. + +“What do you think, Fanny?” said he to his sister, who was just emerging +from a reverie beside him. “Perhaps you had better go back to the inn +with Mrs. Day and Maynard till to-morrow.” + +Mrs. Day, the respectable elderly personage who had never been exactly +Fanny’s nurse, and was now far from being her governess, ventured to say +from her corner of the carriage that she really could not think of +Fanny’s proceeding to the house till she knew that it had been properly +aired. She had been asking, for a week past, what measures had been +taken for this end; and could learn nothing that satisfied her that +Fanny could go anywhere to-night but to the inn. + +Fanny, meanwhile, had given orders to drive on; and before Mrs. Day had +done speaking, the carriage was rolling on the gravel within the gates. +If Richard had put away his book, and sat upright in preparation for +what was approaching, it was not to be expected that she should turn +back, she declared. + +The phaeton which her brother James was driving had passed the carriage +during the consultation with the steward; and Wallace, the youngest of +the three brothers, might now be seen pointing out certain things that +he perceived in the grass, and in the neighbouring coppice. James +flourished his whip, and quickened the pace of his steeds. Their mirth +communicated itself to Fanny, and she sprang forward with an exclamation +of joy when the next turn of the road disclosed a splendid view, bathed +in the sunshine of a bright autumnal afternoon. Mrs. Day had never been +more out of love with these wild young people, (as she sometimes called +them,) than at the present moment. She did not expect that they should +remember the place, or her whose death had occasioned their quitting it; +but she really thought that they might show themselves more sensible of +what had happened there. Some thought of their parents might be +suggested by the scene, which should sober their spirits a little. But +she never saw anything like the spirits of these young people. So far +from their father having subdued them, it seemed as if he had left them +his wildness without his fits of melancholy. Perhaps it was hardly fair +to expect that the children of such a parent should be like other +people. + +The steward, on his grey pony, had trotted past the carriage; and he was +now collecting the workmen and their tools in preparation for Mr. +Cranston’s order to throw open the gates. + +“Come, Richard, you must get out,” cried Wallace, who had alighted from +the phaeton. “We are only waiting for you.” + +The knocking began. Mrs. Day could not bear it. Every blow went to her +heart. She wandered away, thick and damp as was the grass, till she +turned an angle of the wall where the noise was deadened, and she was +out of sight of the rest of the party. There was a strange mingling of +sounds. The high wall of rock which rose on the other side of the +stream, to which the lawn sloped down before her, sent back an echo of +the workmen’s blows. The rooks were disturbed, and rose from the high +trees in a cloud, to add their hoarse music to the din. Daws came +fluttering out of the nest of chimneys which was visible above the wall, +and pigeons appeared upon the roof, rustling and flapping their wings in +prodigious perturbation. Laughter (it was Wallace’s laugh) mingled +strangely with the other sounds; and Mrs. Day decided in her own mind +that Mr. Cranston, who was never wanting in proper feeling, ought to +check such unseasonable mirth. She presently saw that Mr. Cranston was +not at hand to interpose such a check. While she had wandered round one +way, Fanny and her eldest brother had taken the other, and they might +now be seen,—Richard standing in his usual lazy attitude, and Fanny +exploring the beds where all the flowers of the garden seemed to have +grown into a tangled thicket. Mrs. Day found her pronouncing that such a +beautiful spot for a garden was never so wasted before, and that this +unaccountable wall round the house must be immediately thrown down, that +the coppice, the stream, and the opposite rocks might be seen. Richard +listened with an air of resignation, and hoped that James would think +his living near enough to allow of his remaining at Fellbrow till all +the alterations were completed. Richard would heartily thank anybody who +would take the trouble off his hands. + +“O, yes; and let you sleep till noon; till the sun is warm enough to let +you sit down there by the waterside, reading till dinner; and then let +you lounge on the sofa till tea, and then read or listen to us all the +evening. That is the life you would like to lead this autumn,” said +Fanny. + +“Just so,” Richard agreed, looking round to see if there was no seat at +hand. The rotten remains of one were just distinguishable among the rank +grass, under a moss-grown tree; but there was no hope that it would +support Richard’s lazy length. + +A shout, and then a screech, with a final clang, now told that the gates +would open and shut, and that Richard was wanted. His brothers were in +the yard when he joined them, both breast-high in thistles. They would +not hear of their sister being kept back by this cause. They carried her +through,—or rather over, this wilderness of weeds, and placed her on the +steps of the door. They offered to perform the same service for Mrs. +Day, but she once more turned away, almost without answering. Fanny +thought this the most curious-looking old house she had ever seen, and, +in spite of the desolation of its present aspect, she could not help +enjoying the romantic prospect which began to open upon her of the kind +of life she might lead here. These lattice windows,—so many and so +small,—were made to be gently opened, in greeting to the rising moon. +That carved wooden seat beside the door should be restored for the sake +of the wandering merchant who might wish to open his pack before the +eyes of the lady of the house. Those broad eaves were made for the +swallows to build under.—When she entered the hall, what a sight was +there! + +“O, Wallace, stop! Do stand still a minute,” cried she, as Wallace +strode before her, dealing destruction right and left among the cobwebs. +Never were such cobwebs seen; and it was difficult to imagine what the +spiders could be that wove them. They hung like flimsy curtains from the +ceiling to the floor, and, as the newly-admitted air waved them in the +yellow sunshine which burst in at the door (the windows being wholly +obscured by dust) they exhibited a texture of such beauty as it indeed +required some resolution to destroy. Wallace would not, however, submit +to a long detention. Parting at the stroke of his switch, the delicate +fabrics fell, forming a dusty tapestry for the walls. + +“Do but look!” cried Wallace, when he had made his way first into the +library. “Grass grown to seed on the mantel-piece! Where the deuce did +the seed and the soil come from?” + +As one and another entered the room, new wonders became apparent. Fanny +was surprised to see the shelves full of books. She looked close to see +what they were, and was startled by meeting a pair of bright eyes where +a space was left between the volumes. + +“It is—yes, it is a stuffed owl,” said she to Richard. “But what an odd +place to hide it in!” + +“A stuffed owl!” cried Wallace, coming up: “we will soon see that;” and +he touched the creature with the end of his switch; in answer to which +salutation it ruffled its speckled plumage, pecked angrily, and then +burst away in the direction of a window which was now perceived to be +broken. James decreed that this room should be appropriated to Fanny, +and that she should never more be known by any other name than Minerva. +Seated here, with her owl and her books, she could never say a foolish +thing again. + +The young lady was not long in doing something which, in most young +ladies, would be called foolish. She kneeled on the stained carpet to +draw out a volume or two of the row of mouldy folios next the floor. She +was fortunate in finding another curiosity. + +“Look, look, Richard! Leave those globes alone, and come here. Here is a +skeleton of something. What is it, Wallace? A rabbit? It looks like a +rabbit; but there can be no rabbits in this place. That is right; take +away the next volume, and the next.” Wallace was doing this, under +pretence of wanting more light; for he was vexed at not being able to +pronounce in a moment what animal this was the skeleton of. + +“How curious! how very pretty!” continued Fanny; “spun all over with +cobwebs, and fastened to the wall with cobwebs! But what animal can it +be? Something that crouches.” + +“Ah, ha!” cried Wallace; “now I see. It is a cat. Here is the skeleton +of a rat a little way before it. Plainly a rat, you see, which could get +no farther between the books and the wall: this great Josephus stopped +it.” + +“And it dared not go back for fear of the cat; and the cat could not +quite reach it. But what prevented the cat’s going back? Oh, it had +forced its way in too far; and the more it crouched, the broader its +back would be. How it must have longed to get at the rat! If the rat had +had any generosity, it would have gone back and given itself up. It was +not jammed, but only barred in behind and before; and when it was +certain not to escape, it might as well have been eaten as starved.” + +“Perhaps it hoped to be released,” observed James. + +“I am sure that cat did, if, as I believe, it is the same that I used to +take care of and torment,” said Richard. “I plagued the poor thing +terribly, I have no doubt; but she never mewed but I answered her. How +she must have wondered what had become of me! How piteously she must +have cried for me, while she was starving to death here! One touch of +mine to those books would have given her her prey and her liberty. Bring +her out, Wallace, and the rat too; I shall have them taken care of.” + +“I think James had better make a sermon about them,” Fanny observed; +“something about malice, or greediness, and what comes of them.” + +“There is matter for many sermons in this room,” observed Richard +gravely. The steward touched his hat at this remark, and was uncovered +from that moment. + +The apartments in which no windows were broken were in better condition, +though it was at first difficult to breathe in them, and the green +stains on the wall forbade Fanny to hope to be immediately established +there. Three westerly rooms,—one of which was the drawing-room,—were in +better condition than any others, and it was decided that upon these +should the science and art of the tradespeople of A—— be first employed. + +“Come, come, Fanny, you have been here long enough for to-day,” said +Richard. “Do go down before you are quite chilled or suffocated.” Fanny +declared herself in no danger of either the one or the other calamity. +She was at the moment looking abroad upon the park at her feet, and the +mountainous range behind, and feared nothing so much as this being +pronounced an unfit residence for her, and her return to London insisted +upon. She waited anxiously for the reply to the steward’s question,— + +“What do you think of the place, sir? Have you any idea of living in it, +now you see what it is?” + +“O yes, if you have people at hand who can set it to rights, and if——” + +His brothers understood the contortion of his long form, and laughed. + +“And if,” said they, “anybody will be master instead of you. Leave it to +us.” + +Wallace would enjoy nothing so much as such an excuse for making the +most of a fine sporting season; and James had no objection to go +backwards and forwards between Fellbrow and his new living,—taking what +sport he could get at the one place, and perhaps amusing himself with +building a house at the other. + +“As for the quality of the tradespeople, sir,” said the steward, “you +will be better off than if you had happened to come a while ago. Among +other things that the new road has brought us, sir, is a number of +better workmen than we had before. Some of the old folks, who cannot +give up their custom of doing their work as slow as they please, and +charging what they like, are apt to stand grumbling at their doors, with +their hands in their pockets. But what you have to do with, sir, is the +new-comers, in the new part of the town, who will be glad of the +opportunity of keeping a-head in the competition, and doing your work +out of hand.” + +“I had rather employ the old ones who used to work for my father, if +they will bestir themselves to serve me properly.” + +“I doubt they won’t, sir; and I would not have you think yourself under +obligation to employ them. They have made, and are making, provision +enough for themselves out of your property already.” + +What could this mean? The gentlemen must ask Morse. Morse, the +gamekeeper? Then it was meant that the tradesmen and work-people of A—— +were poachers. But which? It could not surely be meant that glaziers and +carpenters, shoemakers and chimney-sweepers, made any hand of poaching. +The steward supposed time would show what sort of men the gangs were +composed of. This much he knew; that the people he alluded to spoke of +the falling off of their business for the sake of new-comers, and of the +weight of their taxation, as if they thought it justified their laying +hands on a property which they did not consider as a property; which was +the case with game all over the world. + +Wallace threatened to rectify the notions of the people of A—— as to +property very speedily, if they ventured to interfere with the present +or future sport of himself and his brothers. James, meanwhile, was +hoping that the poachers had not, at any time, found the way to the +cellars. If the carpets were left on the floors to rot, and the books on +the shelves to grow mouldy, it would be very hard that there should be +no wine in the cellars to ripen. He proposed that a descent should be +effected for purposes of search, and that a supply of any which might be +found should be sent to the inn, as it was scarcely likely that wine of +a good quality could be met with there. The steward had a word to say in +favour of the wine at the Turk’s Head; but added, that he knew the +cellars under their feet to be well-stocked, both with ale and wines, +which must now be in fine order. + +Mrs. Day had more thoughts about the levity of young people when she saw +how the family issued from the old mansion, after their first greeting +of it. The clergyman seemed to be taking equal care about the conveyance +of his sister and some crusted port; and Wallace was vociferating for +glasses, as he was bent on trying the ale upon the spot. The steward was +nearly as grave as herself; but for him there was the comfort of having +employment, and the countenance and encouragement of a master once more. +He was relieved from the misery of seeing the property going to ruin; +and, after all, as he comforted himself with saying, let these young men +be as wild as they will, they can never be so eccentric as their poor +father,—at least, not if they had the least touch of their mother in +them. + + + CHAPTER II. + + PATRIMONIAL APPENDAGES. + + +Whatever the steward might have to say in favour of the new workmen of +A—— over the old, he did not wish the preference to apply in the case of +a choice of innkeepers. His old acquaintance, Pritchard, of the Turk’s +Head, was warmly patronised by him, in opposition to the upstart at the +Navarino, who, with all his show of balconies and a splendid furnishing +of his bar, treated his guests with sour wines and cold rooms. + +As might be supposed, so rare a party of inmates was indulged with all +the luxury that Pritchard could afford. In hopes of diverting them from +their intention of taking their sister for a little tour among the lakes +while a corner of the house at Fellbrow was being prepared for her, the +host of the Turk’s Head took care that she should be worshipped as if +she had been a rich ward on her way to Gretna. Every time she moved, the +entire household seemed to start to anticipate her wishes. She was made +so comfortable at the inn, and she so thoroughly enjoyed the beauties of +the park and neighbourhood of Fellbrow, that there was little fear that +she would desire to go to the lakes, or anywhere else, while awaiting +her reception in what she wished to be her future home. The only +circumstance that annoyed her was the notice she excited in the town, or +at least in the neighbourhood of the inn. Pritchard shook his head over +this, as over a grievance which could only be lamented, when any one +could have told that his bragging, and his complacency, and his +confidences had given the Cranstons half the consequence which caused +them to be watched through shop-windows, waylaid by loungers, and talked +over by gossips. A large portion of the remaining half might be ascribed +to the extraordinary accession of goods, chattels, and followers which +they brought into the place. + +The half-deserted street in which Mrs. Barton, the perfumer, lived had +not afforded such a sight for many a day as might now be witnessed +morning and evening. Maynard, Miss Cranston’s old serving-man, took the +young lady’s spaniel out for an airing twice a day; and all the +inhabitants who remained in the neighbourhood soon learned to watch for +the approach of the curious pair,—the prim beau, with his pig-tail +hanging down his back, and the animal, no less spruce in its jacket of +the finest flannel, tied with blue ribbons. + +“Miss Biggs!—do make haste, Miss Biggs!” cried Mrs. Barton to her +shopwoman. “Did you ever see such a fine head for powder as the old +gentleman has? Quite one of the old school, I will answer for it;—the +school for manners, as I say.” + +Miss Biggs smiled sweetly as Maynard came up the street, and pronounced +the phenomenon charming. She had not a very distinct idea of what the +old school was; for while Mrs. Barton was always praising it, and might +therefore be supposed a pupil, she was, in dress, of the very newest +school she could get any tidings of, and, in manners, of no school but +her own. She had one scholar in Miss Biggs, who had, by this time, +learned to hang her head as far to the left as her mistress to the +right. She had not Mrs. Barton’s prime requisite—an extremely wide +mouth—for smiling; but she did not fall behind her in drawling and +universal sympathy. + +“It is really a privilege,” said Mrs. Barton, withdrawing her head from +between two glasses of wash-balls, “to see such a fine old relic of +Church and King, which always has my vote.” + +“And mine, I am sure: I am always for Church and King,” replied Miss +Biggs. “So different, you see, ma’am, from the upstarts, with not a +grain in their hair, that come to the new inn, and are gone! Do you +think, ma’am, we shall have the gentleman’s custom for powder? Perhaps +if——” + +Mrs. Barton was already sailing round the counter, and she reached the +door in time to prepare a deep curtsey for Maynard. The old man looked +behind him, to make sure that the obeisance was meant for him, and then +took off his hat, and offered a bow of the last century. Mrs. Barton did +not leave him long uncertain whether he was to pass on or stay. Might +she presume to hope that self-love was to be flattered by the stranger’s +approbation of the old town? + +“Dear ma’am,” interposed Miss Biggs, “how can we expect that strangers +should feel as we do towards our old town? Is it reasonable, dear +ma’am?” + +All were ready to agree in this; but Maynard protested that it was not a +town to be despised. He admired enthusiasm in behalf of one’s native +place—— + +O! how good he was to say so! + +And independent of this, he saw much to admire in A——. The church-tower +was a great ornament; and the market-place was remarkable for a town of +the size. He was sorry to see so many shops shut up in this quarter; and +that red-brick meeting-house—— + +“Ah! there—there, sir, you touch a tender point. Our dissenters,—I am +ashamed to say it, I assure you,—our dissenters are so——O, dear sir! You +cannot think what a weight it is upon our minds,—upon loyal minds, sir, +that espouse Church and King.” + +“O, sir!” added Miss Biggs, “I hope Church and King is your motto. I am +sure _you_ must be loyal.” + +Maynard flattered himself that he was so; and he had been put to a +pretty strong trial on that head,—so much as he had been in France. + +“In France!—in that land of rebellion and conflagration, and blasphemy!” +Mrs. Barton shuddered, and Miss Biggs followed her example. They begged +pardon,—they did not mean to hurt his feelings,—but, if they set foot in +that place, they should expect a judgment to overtake them before they +could get back again. + +Perhaps so; unless they went in the way of duty, the old gentleman said: +but he went in the way of duty,—in the service of his young lady; +notwithstanding which, he was very glad to get back again. He had had an +idea, before he went, that he should find everybody wearing powder; but, +if it used to be so, it was not so now. + +Mrs. Barton had once found herself in a precisely similar mistake, which +Miss Biggs allowed to be very remarkable. When our gentry began to +return after the war, there was really very little more hair-powder +issued from her shop than before. She had looked forward to this as a +set-off, if Miss Biggs remembered, against the increase of rent which +her landlord clapped on in proportion as people came home to live. +Heaven knew she was loyal in her heart, and ready to assist the war as +long as his Majesty chose to fight; but she could not but feel that she +had borne her full share. She had renewed her lease at a higher rent, in +the prospect of more custom, and then found that the tax on +hair-powder,—a tax laid on to help the war,—had put people off wearing +hair-powder! + +“And your rent was not low, during the war, I dare say, ma’am. Though +you let it be raised afterwards, I dare say it was high enough before. +You like these times of low rents much better, I don’t doubt.” + +“Low rents!” + +“Better!” cried the ladies, looking piteously at each other. + +“Why, let me see. There are a great many empty houses in this street, +ma’am. House rent cannot be high here, though you are in the +neighbourhood of the market.” + +“But my lease, dear sir. Ah! there is the point, you see. When my lease +was renewed, this street was the great thoroughfare of the town. It is +untold the traffic there was,—it is indescribable the gentlemen’s +carriages that used to pass my door, before people went out of their +minds, as I say, about the new inn, and all the building that has gone +on in that quarter.” + +“For my part, I have never countenanced such doings,” said Miss Biggs, +“going so far as to take my walk the other way on Sundays. To build new +houses, when such as these that you see are standing——but the rage for +building exceeds everything.” + +“That came of the high rents,” said Maynard. “There was too much +building by far, in most places.” + +“And the new road. O! the opening of that new road! I shall never forget +it. And my lease with six years to run from that very day.” + +“It was a bad speculation, indeed, ma’am, Speculators in leases should +take care——” + +Mrs. Barton looked full of woe at being called a speculator. She had the +testimony of her conscience that she did not deserve it. + +“I mean no offence, I assure you, ma’am,” continued Maynard. “I mean no +more than that every tenant who takes a lease is a speculator. If you +agree to pay so much rent, and be answerable for so much tax, for +fourteen years, and the tax happens to be presently taken off——” + +The bare idea seemed to afford rapture. + +“Your bargain turns out a good one; and the same if the neighbourhood +improves, so as to render your situation a more desirable one than it +was before. Your case, you say, is the reverse. Rent and tax remain as +they were, and the neighbourhood is less desirable than it was; and so I +say it is a bad speculation to you. ’Tis a pity you can’t take up your +house, and carry it to the new road, and set it down there.” + +Maynard was easily convinced how clever he should be thought, if he +could put the ladies in the way of doing this. Such a very capital idea! +the ladies thought it, till told that it was not original;—that in +America such a thing had been heard of and seen as the removal of a +dwelling on wheels. + +The speculation was followed out;—how charming it must be to the owner +of the house to be able to put it where it would be sure of bringing a +good rent till it was worn out, instead of placing it, as now, where +there was no certainty of how much or how little it would be in request +twenty years hence.—How charming it would be to the tenant to have the +power of wheeling himself into any position he liked, or of obtaining a +reduction of rent in case of the desired ground being preoccupied! (for +in those circumstances, rent would be precisely proportioned to the +advantages of the locality.) How charming, lastly, to the government, to +receive the house-tax in a steady proportion which none could dispute: +for no house-tax could then be collected unless it were lowered _ad +valorem_. No one who could move away would stay in a poor situation, to +pay a tax as high as had been imposed in a favourable locality. Equity +would be the order of the day, Mrs. Barton decided, if houses went on +wheels; and landlords, tenants, and assessors might be all loyal and +harmonious together.—Miss Biggs put her head out at the door to take a +survey of the solid front of the dwelling, while her mistress tried the +stability of the foundations with her toe. There was little hope that +this house could be set upon wheels. The house would be even more +difficult to shift than the lease. + +Mrs. Barton next declared herself liable to nearly as much sorrow for +her neighbours’ afflictions as for her own; during which announcement +her companion smiled with arch amiability at Maynard. Mr. Pritchard, at +the Turk’s Head, paid prodigiously in the articles of rent and taxes; +and how he had suffered from his Navarino rival could only be known to +those who had been formerly accustomed to see the sporting gentry throng +to his inn at this season. He was once proud of the consequence of his +inn, as shown by the charges it had to bear; but now, he talked very +differently, poor man, about such charges. He had been heard to say, +more than once lately, a thing—a fact—something which he would hardly +say to the young gentlemen who were now occupying his best apartments.— +What could this be?—After much pressing on the one side, and “Shall I, +Miss Biggs?” on the other, it appeared that Pritchard complained of his +house having been for years taxed nearly three times as much as Fellbrow +itself. No one could believe it, as Mrs. Barton had told the +complainant. It was impossible that any one could credit it. + +“I can, ma’am,” said Maynard. “I heard a good deal of that matter in +London; and I dare say some of the same ridiculous confusion and +partiality,—or I should rather say inequality,—may exist in this place. +But, halloo, what comes here? Please to let me in, ladies. If you will +let me in, and shut the door—I never could abide these packs of those +animals,—a very different thing from carrying one quiet little creature +like this. There! look how it hugs me, at the very hearing and sight of +the pack! Now we shall do!” + +Mrs. Barton rejoiced in such an opportunity for hospitality. She became +suddenly remarkably afraid of a pack of harriers, and took care that the +door was fastened as securely as if harriers had been especially +addicted to eating and drinking pomatum and lavender water. Miss Biggs +kneeled to the spaniel, and coaxed it till sent by a sign from her +mistress to bring a little glass of fine cordial for their guest, whom +they declared they should keep fast prisoner till all danger of +encountering that dreadful pack of dogs was past. There was an upper +window from which their progress could be traced for some distance; and +the cook was called from cooking the “little rasher” to take her station +at this watch-post. Maynard had so much to say about his young master’s +love of sport, and his young mistress’s virtues and graces, and the +wealth of them all, that there was little chance of the spaniel having +its usual airing this morning. The inventory of Mr. Cranston’s dogs, +with the necessary comments, consumed as much time as would have carried +Fanny’s favourite a couple of miles on the moor. + +The pack and the huntsman were not without their admirers, meanwhile. +Among the many who looked knowingly or joyously on them, none were more +emphatic than Mr. Taplin,—the lawyer, as he was called before he +failed,—the assessor, as he had been generally named since his friends +had procured him the appointment. What a fine set of new subjects for +assessment had he in this family of the Cranstons! How many servants and +carriages! Armorial bearings, of course; and here was the huntsman; and +besides this pack, there were Mr. James’s pointers, and Miss Cranston’s +spaniel, and the fine terrier of Mr. Wallace. Then there were horses in +abundance on the road, he understood. It was a pity the house and window +duties could not be made more suitable in amount to such a mansion as +that at Fellbrow. He must try, for the sake of justice, as well as of +his own pocket, to contrive an increase. He trusted that such wealthy +and high-spirited young men would not be troublesome as to the amount of +tax they were to pay,—either for their habitations or their pleasures. + +He stood watching the picturesque group for some time after it had +reached the Paddock,—a place well known to every sporting gentleman who +passed through A——. The Paddock was the residence of a noted +horse-dealer; and Swallow, the tenant, had had the honour of welcoming +to his stables almost every man of note in his particular line in the +kingdom. Many a characteristic group might be seen in the shadow of his +spacious gateway. Many an honoured voice might be heard in oath or +laughter from his range of stables; and many a hero of the field had +trod the grass of the ample paddock in the rear. The thresher in Mr. +Whitford’s barn sometimes laid aside his flail to watch the +curiously-coated and hatted gentry who were let into the sacred +enclosure; and the thresher’s son, a shepherd-boy on the sheep-walk +above, stood to wonder at the friskiness of the fine animals in +Swallow’s field. + +Swallow was not sorry that the dogs had come by this road, as it was of +importance to him to establish a friendly intercourse with Mr. +Cranston’s huntsman; but the present moment was not exactly that which +he would have chosen for their arrival. Half an hour later would have +been better. A van, on its way to London, was at the door. It could not +wait; and certain packages must be put into it whose contents could +scarcely fail to be guessed by the huntsman, any more than by the +gamekeeper. It was provoking that the girls were out. They would have +got the packages in at the back of the van very cleverly, while he was +amusing the huntsman with a glass of liquor and conversation. He must +try whether George could take the hint. + +George was less quick at taking a hint than he would have been if he had +not been accustomed to depend much on his sisters. He was not ashamed of +being excelled by them, and, in a manner, taken care of by them, they +having, as he always said, each a double mind, with which his single one +could not pretend to compete. These girls were twins, and more perfectly +alike in mind (if possible) than in form and feature. Their brother, +still a rough and sadly careless boy, laughed at them, was proud of +them, and depended upon them. The book which every horse-dealer is by +law obliged to keep open to the inspection of the assessor was left in +George’s charge by his father, who had him educated sufficiently to +qualify him for making the necessary entries of sales. George was +perpetually warned of the heavy penalties to which his father would be +liable if the due entries were not made, if the book was not always kept +open to the observation of the assessor, and regularly delivered in, +every quarter, for examination and discharge; but it is probable that +his father would more than once have been compelled to disburse the +penalty, if Anne and Sarah had not been on the watch to guard against +his carelessness. It was indeed a pity that they were absent now. George +was so busy forming friendships with the dogs that his father’s coughs +and winks were disregarded; and package after package was brought out +and left within sight and scent, while room was being made for each in +the van. In vain did Swallow interpose his broad shoulders and offer +snuff. The huntsman was mounted, and could see what was passing in the +rear; and he was moreover not to be persuaded to take a pinch. Swallow +saw that his new acquaintance had picked up a notion at the Paddock +which would not be long in reaching the owner of the Fellbrow preserves. + +George’s mind had risen a flight too high to be brought down this +morning by usual influences. He was off with the harriers, in the midst, +and almost as fleet as any of them, before his father’s angry voice +roused his ear. He looked back a moment, saw the assessor entering the +gateway, supposed his father would find the book if it was wanted, and +immediately heard nothing more than the greetings of the dogs. + +“There is no knowing now,” growled his father, “when we shall get the +lad back again. He had rather kennel with the dogs than come home to his +business, any day of the year.—The book! O, it is at your service, I +don’t doubt.—Let me see: where can the boy have hid it? My family are +all out, you see, sir. If it is equally convenient, I will send one of +them with the book, this afternoon.” + +“Show it me now, Swallow. I don’t call this keeping the book open for my +inspection at all times. Make haste, and find it, if you please. Your +boy is not the only one of the family, I fancy, who has the taste you +describe,—for sport rather than business. Hey, Swallow? But you will +remember the gentlemen are on the spot now, and take care of yourself, I +suppose. Remember they are on the spot, I advise you.” + +“It would be rather hard to forget it,” replied the horse-dealer; “so +many shows as they have brought into this quiet place. There is not a +soul in A—— but is watching them from morning till night,—except, +indeed, the people (and they are not few) that are swarming about the +Fellbrow house, like bees building their comb. Here’s the book, sir; and +when I have added the sale I made half-an-hour ago——” + +While Swallow was laboriously scrawling his two lines, the assessor +walked off. There was no room for talk of penalties in his department +this day. He would come again when all the Mr. Cranstons’ riding-horses +should have arrived, and would want to be discussed. Swallow looked +after Mr. Taplin, saying to himself, “Fine talk that, of my taking care +of myself against the gentlemen, when he himself is in as deep as any of +us! If he threatens me, I can bid him look to his own share.” + + + CHAPTER III. + + CLERICAL DUTY. + + +October was not half gone before a sufficient portion of the Fellbrow +house was made habitable to accommodate the family. Fanny’s rapture was +great when the ugly high wall was in process of being demolished, to +give place to the light fence which would not exclude such a view as her +eyes desired to rest upon as long as the sun was above the horizon. +These October mornings were glorious. One especially, when the whole +family were anxious for fine weather, equalled any that she had enjoyed +in a southern climate. It was to be a morning of fishing,—the first +regular fishing party since their arrival; and Fanny was at her window +before the rich hues of the sunrise had melted from the northern +mountain tops, or the white frost evaporated from the unsunned lawn. The +face of the limestone rocks opposite was grey in the shadow, and the +stream below was yet black as if it had no bottom; but the rays were +abroad which would soon make it gleam at every bend, and paint in it the +reflection of the autumn leaves that yet danced above it when the breeze +sported in the overhanging coppice on the hither side. Some of the +loftiest trees in the park already began to be lighted up; and on a +green platform of the retiring rocks, the blue roofs of a little hamlet +glistened in the gush of sunshine poured upon them through the chasm +which brought the waters from the heights to the cisterns at the doors +of the inhabitants. Already might the hind be distinguished, pacing +forth warily from the thicket, and looking from side to side, while her +fawn bounded past her, breast-high in the hoar grass. Already might the +shepherd and his dog be distinguished on the faint track of the +sheep-walk, now driving their scudding flock, and now letting them +disperse themselves over the upland. Already were lively voices heard +below the window, and already were busy hands making a picturesque +display of nets and wicker baskets on the grass. Never was there a +lovelier morning seen; and Fanny’s spirits were braced to their highest +pitch when she threw open her lattice,—(how much more willingly than she +would have thrown up the sash!) and sent a greeting down to her brother +James who was talking with one of the men. + +“Who is going to ride?” she asked, seeing that a groom was leading a +saddled horse. “Who wants Diamond this morning, James?” + +“I do. Ah! it is a great plague that anybody should want to be buried +this morning, of all mornings. But I put the people off before, and I +cannot do it again. I can get it over, with what else I have to do, +before you have finished your sport, if you will only make me sure where +I may find you. That is what I am settling now; and then I am off.” + +“But what else have you to do? A marriage or two, perhaps?” + +“Very likely; and three or four more funerals. They find they must make +the most of me when they can catch me. But the business I mean is, +looking about to see where I shall build my house. You ought to be with +me for that. If your mare was but here, I would make you give up the +fishing for to-day, and ride over with me.” + +“I will do that when you know there is to be a wedding or two. The +little brides will not object to my seeing them married, I dare say; and +I should like to make acquaintance with these mountain brides that you +used to talk so finely about before——” + +“Before I saw them:—before I knew how confoundedly they would come in +the way of sport. I have seen none yet that it would be worth your while +to ride seven miles to make acquaintance with. I don’t see how they are +better than the Easter-Monday brides in Birmingham, in tawdry shawls and +flying ribbons. If they have not such gay shawls, they are ten times +more dull and silly: so, if you mean to keep your romance about them, +you must keep your distance, too. Good-bye: only be so good as not to +leave Moystarn before two, unless you see me sooner. I’ll make Diamond +do his duty this morning. Good-bye.” + +Diamond had no other inclination than to do his duty. Once having +cleared the park, he brought all the little children out of the cottages +by the sound of his firm and rapid trot on the hard road. Their mothers +curtseyed at the doors and windows, inspired with an equal respect for +the handsome rider and his sleek steed; and the labourers turned round +from their work on the fences and in the fields to smile the vacant +smile with which they honoured passengers who took their fancy. It was +not Diamond’s fault that he was urged on so nearly over a child as to be +obliged to bolt to avoid the sin of manslaughter. It was not his fault +that he could not, before he reached the brook, slacken his speed +sufficiently to avoid splashing the fair horsewomen who were crossing at +the time. For this last offence he received a more severe punishment +from his master than for any preceding. The flogging was so vigorous, +and Diamond’s resentment of it so strong, that he bolted once more into +the water, and there made a splashing which sent the ripples of the +clear stream in chase of one another, high and low. The boy on the foot +bridge shrank from the wetting, and the horsewomen retired right and +left to watch the issue. Each patted her pony’s neck; each laughed as +Diamond turned round and round; each prepared to use the switch, when +her own pony began to exhibit signs of restlessness. James was so far +struck with this amidst his contest with Diamond, that he looked +curiously at the pair when he came up finally out of the brook. He was +as much amused as surprised at what he beheld. No twins that he had ever +seen could compare with these for likeness. It was not only the colour +of the eyes and of the hair, and the frame of the features; much less +the perfect similarity of their dress, and of the animals they rode. The +glance was the very same, revealing an identity of mind. They were now +side by side, and he perceived that every touch of the rein was the +same. Smiles came and went as if from one heart; and yet they did not +look at each other, except to agree which should utter the words that +were on the tongues of both. If they had been less pretty than they +were, James could not have pushed on his way as before. His curiosity +was so amused, that he laughed without restraint; and could scarcely +repent having done so when he saw the blush and confused gravity of each +little face which filled up its close straw bonnet. + +“That boy is like you, though less like than you are to each other,” +observed James. “I suppose he is your brother?” + +“Yes, sir; our brother George. People think him most like father.” + +“And you most like your mother? Your mother must be a very pretty woman. +Is not she?” + +There was no answer. The girls were too busy trying to help laughing. In +order to find out whether this arose from the mother being otherwise +than pretty, or from the daughters liking to be complimented, James went +on to praise their riding. They took this as a matter of course, having +been in the habit of riding almost as regularly as of dining, all their +lives. How could they contrive rides for every day? + +“We have always some place that we must go to, especially at this time +of the year; and sometimes it is a weary round before we can get home. +We are going one of our longest rides to-day.” + +“To some market, I should have thought, if your pack-saddles had not +been empty. Why do you use empty pack-saddles?” + +“They will not be empty long, sir. Anne has begun to load her’s, you +see.” + +“So her name is Anne. What is your’s? Sarah? Very well; I shall know +Anne from Sarah by her having a load on her pack-saddle. Pray do your +parents know you from each other?” + +“Dear, yes, Sir! except just in the twilight.” + +“Yet your voices are the same. I would give a crown-piece to know +whether one voice ever gets above the other,—whether you ever quarrel. I +do not see how you can well help it; for you must often want the same +thing at the same time—something that you cannot both have.” + +What sort of thing did he mean ? Almost everything that could not be +divided might be used by them together. + +“And do you always wish the same thing, and think the same thing?” + +“We do presently, if we don’t directly. Good-bye, sir; we are going down +this lane to the farm-house.” + +“But you will have to come out upon this road again: there is no other +path away from that farm-house. I shall go with you.” + +“You must not; they will not want you. We shall not stay two minutes.” + +“Then I shall wait for you.” + +“Oh, thank you, sir! We will make haste. George has run on already, you +see: he goes no farther than here; so we can get on faster than we have +been going.” + +“Stop! Why should you both go? There is George to take care of one. +Anne, do you stay with me, and let the empty saddle go down the lane.” + +Left alone with Anne, the gentleman began to animate her with praises of +her native district. She agreed that it was a pretty part to ride in for +pleasure. She supposed the gentleman rode for pleasure. + +“Not exactly so to-day, though I do not pretend that my ride is not a +very pleasant one just now. I am going to bury a child. Yes: you need +not look so shocked; I did not say I was going to kill a child. You +would have children buried when they die, would not you?” + +“Yes, sir; but we did not know that you were a clergyman;” and she +looked as if she had thoughts of dismounting to make a curtsey. + +“O yes, I am a clergyman; and besides burying a child a good deal +younger than you, perhaps I may have to marry a girl very little older +than you.” + +“That will be Catherine Scott, perhaps,” observed Anne; “she was +eighteen last July. Do you think she will be married to-day, sir? I +think she might have told us, however.” + +“You had better ride on with me, and take her by surprise. Come, give +your pony the switch a little. Never mind Sarah,” seeing her look back; +“she will overtake us presently. Her saddle is not loaded, you know.” + +Anne shook her head: Sarah was not in sight; and the faithful twin +evidently meditated turning back. If the gentleman would go forward, she +said, and not keep the family waiting for the burial, Sarah and she +might come up in time to see the marriage, if it should be Catherine +Scott’s. James muttered something about being late, and gave her pony +such a cut with his whip as sent the animal forward at a rate that Sarah +was scarcely likely to surpass; and, by keeping half a length in the +rear, he sustained the pony’s panic, and baffled all the damsel’s +attempts to check its speed. This lasted till they came within sight of +a row of cottages, at the door of one of which was a funeral train, just +beginning to form. It would not do, even James perceived, for the +mourners to see him galloping to the churchyard in a race with a country +girl. He turned her horse, as well as his own, into a field, and then +stopped to laugh. In answer to Anne’s reproaches, he declared that he +only wanted to make her do something unlike her sister for once. He rode +between her and the gate of the field, saying that, before she went, she +must tell him whether she did not think this field the very place to +build a house upon. If she would only look up at the view to the north, +and measure with her eye the distance from the church—— + +“There’s Sarah!” cried Anne, cleverly wheeling her pony round, and +effecting her escape. She was off, like an arrow from a bow; and Sarah +might be seen hastening hitherward over a heath, about a mile and a half +distant. + +“They will come together point-blank, like knights in a single combat,” +thought James. “I must be there to pick them up, if they are unhorsed. I +must find a gap in the fence, lower down, that these people about the +cottages may not be scandalized. I must behave well to-day, when once I +have seen what those girls are doing.” + +When met, they were pacing side by side, looking equally offended. James +could scarcely appear as penitent as he intended, so infinitely amused +was he at the perfect resemblance of the twins being preserved and made +more striking amidst their change of mood. If Anne looked heated by her +violent exercise, Sarah was not less so through fear and resentment. +Both glanced away from him; neither would turn the head when he spoke. +The tendency to ponder the ground was rather the strongest in Anne: as +she had lost out of her glove the sixpence she had brought to pay the +turnpike. What turnpike?—where was it? Half a mile beyond the church.— +Oh! that would do very well. If they would go on, and wait for him +there, he would come to them when his service was done, and take their +opinion about where he should build his house, and then Anne should not +be left behind for want of a sixpence: they would proceed all together. +He heard Anne say to her sister that he would serve her the same trick +that he had played Sarah, and that she did not believe he had any child +to bury, nor any such thing. + +“Only come on and see, Miss Anne,” said he. “You shall get into the +grave yourself, if you like, to make sure; only I suppose you would not +go in without your sister. But, really now, if you will help me to +settle where I shall build my house, I will help you with your business +afterwards, if you will only tell me what it is.” + +And he looked narrowly at the sacks with which the saddles were +provided. + +“Picking up poultry,” the girls replied, “to send to London by the van.” + +“Poultry! I shall begin to listen for a cock-a-doodle-doo, such as once +kept me awake all the way to London, when I went in a stage-coach. Shall +we have a cock-a-doodle-doo presently?” + +“We take the poultry up dead.” + +“Ah! dead. Now, does this belong to a chicken, or a turkey, or what?” +drawing out a long pheasant’s feather, whose tip had just peeped out of +a hole in the sack. Sarah snatched the feather, and tickled Diamond’s +nose with it, so that Diamond’s master had no attention to spare for +more questions for some time. There was no doubt that Anne would have +done the same, if she had chanced to be next him; for she did not laugh +with surprise, but smiled, as at a corroboration of an idea of her own. +The act was Sarah’s, however; and she had immediately the advantage of +Anne in the gentleman’s estimation. He now saw that there was certainly +a something more in the one sister than in the other,—a drollery in the +eyes—an archness about the mouth. It was to Sarah’s side that he +returned when Diamond was once more subdued. Before he sent them on to +the turnpike, he had been almost whispering to her, saying something +which Anne had not heard, though she now stooped forward on her saddle, +and now leaned over behind her sister, and finally rode round to James’s +other side to listen, being as yet unaware that anything would ever be +said to either which the other might not share. + +“You must go now,” said she, tired at last of not being able to catch +what he was saying. “Those people are the weddingers. See to the bride’s +silk gown! and it is no more like Catherine Scott——How came you to tell +me so?” + +When James had explained that he did not pretend to know brides’ names +till they asked him to change them, he drew off from his companions, +with a final glance in the direction of the turnpike, and directed his +horse, with all sobriety of demeanour, towards the vestry. The sisters +were at last convinced that he was a clergyman, when they saw the +uncovered heads of the men, and the obeisances of the women and +children, amidst which he moved to the discharge of his duty. + +“There, I knew it would be so! How people do plague one—some with +wanting to be married, and some with their squeamish troubles, as if +nobody but the parson could do anything for them,” said he to himself +when, on reaching the turnpike at last, no horsewomen were to be seen. +“To be sure, I don’t know who else should serve the people’s turn +hereabouts, unless they would step across the border to the blacksmith, +and advertise for a methodist to hear them confess. But here are the +blessings of having a living! These pretty creatures are tired of the +very idea of me, I don’t doubt, after being kept waiting till they had +no patience left.” + +He was mistaken; the girls had not waited at all, but gone straight +through, rather in a hurry than not, the gatekeeper said. One of them +had explained that she had lost her sixpence on the road, and had left +her silver thimble in pledge of payment, to be redeemed the next time +she should pass that way. James, of course, redeemed the thimble, which +he tried on his little finger end before he consigned it to his +waistcoat pocket. It betokened as small a finger as need be seen; but +that only made it the greater pity that the thimble was not Sarah’s. + +The gatekeeper was deplorably stupid about the girls. He did not seem to +know which was meant by the pretty one; and could give no further +account of them than that they set off, at a brisk trot, along the +cross-road to the right. He could not even tell whether they meant to go +to the large farm-house that might be seen standing back from this road. +There was nothing for it but going to learn on the spot; so James left +the situation of his house to be discussed hereafter, and was presently +at the gate of the farm. + +The farmer knew the girls, he acknowledged; could not deny he had seen +them to-day—just for a minute—an hour ago or more;—supposed they were at +home by this time;—advised the gentleman to come in and have a snack and +a glass of ale, and he would talk to him about ground for his house. +James recollected, now that the chase had escaped him, that he really +was hungry, and had some miles to ride, at the end of which he might +find nothing in the shape of provisions but fish in their dying agonies. +It was true, he had refused the hospitality of others of his flock;—of +the old schoolmaster, who stood, hat in hand, at his humble door, ready +to usher in the clergyman; of the late clerk’s widow, who had taken +pains to spread her board for him; of the mourners, who had hoped to +receive at home a confirmation of the words of solace which had been +spoken at the grave. All this he had declined, on the plea of extreme +haste; but this was no reason that he should not now avail himself of +the farmer’s cakes and ale. He gave his horse to the boy who had just +stopped from swinging on a gate, and entered the dwelling. + +“Don’t let me disturb you, I beg, ma’am,” said James to the farmer’s +wife, who was hearing her little boy say his letters when her husband +and the clergyman entered. “While you go on with your lessons, Mr. Riley +will tell me where to look for a piece of land to build upon. Your +little boy will be all the sooner ready to say his catechism, you know, +if you go on steadily. So do not let me disturb you.” + +Mr. Riley bowed; Mrs. Riley blushed, and took up her scissars once more +to point with: but apparently little Harry did not appreciate the +desirableness of soon knowing his catechism, for he called every letter +F, whether it stood at the top, bottom, or middle of the page. According +to him, F stood for apple, F for fig, and F for window. He was told to +turn his head towards his mamma, instead of quite away from his book; +and the head was soon in its right place; but the eyes still wandered +off to the extreme left, and F once more stood for pie. Then came loud +whispers,—“Who is that gentleman?” “Will that gentleman fly my kite for +me?” “May I look through that gentleman’s spy-glass?” “Is that the +parson that will frown at me if I don’t behave well at church?” + +This was too much. Mr. Riley lost the thread of his discourse; Mrs. +Riley escaped from the room, and James laughed, while the boy stood +staring at him. + +“So you have got a kite. Will I help you to fly it? Yes, that I will, +some day.” And thus was the guest entertained, till the tray made its +appearance, and the cloth was laid for a substantial luncheon. + +“My dear sir, make no apologies. Here is quite a feast, I see. By all +means, ma’am; a sausage, if you please. Your sausages are irresistible; +and especially with such game as this. A leg, if you please, sir. A +pheasant’s leg and sausage is the most superb thing in the universe.” + +No wonder the Rileys were flattered. The most superb thing in the +universe was under their humble roof! + +“I will try some day,” James continued, “if I cannot supply you with +another luncheon to equal this. I will send you in some game as I pass, +the first time I shoot in your neighbourhood. You relish game, I +presume, Mrs. Riley?” + +Mrs. Riley assented; then hesitated, and hoped Mr. Cranston would not +trouble himself to do as he had said. The farmer declared that Mr. +Cranston was welcome to shoot over his farm, but they could not accept +any game. While James was insisting, little Harry, who had been sent +away, ran in crying, and complaining that he had lost his tail, and he +could not get another. + +“His tail? What sort of tail?” + +Mrs. Riley explained that Harry was indulged with the tail feathers of +pheasants, and that he therefore disliked the disappearance of game from +the pantry. + +There were so many this morning, the boy complained, and now they were +all gone! There were a great many indeed, hanging all in a row, and +Nancy had promised him all the tails. Now there was not one left. “O +dear, O dear! what shall I do without my tail?” was the boy’s pathetic +lamentation. + +“If you will let me carry you on my horse after those young ladies who +were here this morning, I dare say they can give us the very tails that +were in the pantry,” observed James, looking askance at the farmer as he +spoke. “But, Harry, don’t you like fur tails as well as feather tails? +If you were a girl, you might make a fur tippet for your doll’s throat +of a pretty, soft, white rabbit’s tail.” + +Harry made a hop, skip, and jump to a cupboard, and brought out a string +of hares’ and rabbits’ tails, tied together with string, which promised +to be soon as long as the leech-line of a fisherman. + +“I see how it is,” said James, smiling. “I am not the only person, I +fancy, Mr. Riley, that you make welcome to shoot over your farm and in +your neighbourhood.” + +“Why, sir, to speak out, what else can we farmers say to those that help +away with the vermin that do us all sorts of mischief?” + +“Ah! I suppose the birds plague you with the people they bring upon your +ground. I saw one cover, I remember, standing alone in the middle of +some very wide fields of yours, with not a hedge near enough to tempt a +bird to stray; and I thought I would try my luck there next.” + +“You will be sure to find luck there, sir, however many may come before +you. You may chance to see three hundred cock pheasants walking about +there in one day. But the birds are nothing to the hares, sir; I was +very nearly quarrelling with my farm, on account of the hares; and +should have done so, if my landlord had not made me an allowance for +them.” + +“How much does he allow you?” + +“Two sacks of wheat per acre, sir.” + +“Upon my word, you have a very kind landlord.” + +“Not on this head, sir. My loss is much greater than two sacks per acre, +I can assure you. Take the year round, and a hare is as expensive as a +sheep;—for this reason,—that the hare picks the last particle of +vegetation. If my grain springs an eighth of an inch one day, and the +vermin nips seven hundred of the sprouts in a day,—what sheep will ever +cause me such damage as that? I can stand and see the pheasants picking +up their berries and acorns, at this time of the year, without wanting +to wring every neck of them; but, if you’ll believe me, sir,—and my wife +will bear me out, I never see a hare cross the field I am in without +swearing an oath at her.” + +Mrs. Riley not only corroborated this, but added that Mr. Riley was +still more cross with rabbits. + +“The rabbits! And well I may! They do such mischief round the outskirts +of my coppices, that the wood will not be so fit to cut at the end of +twenty years as it would at the end of sixteen without them. You cannot +wonder, sir, that we farmers cannot see poachers. They are a sort of +thing we are blind to. If you consider, sir, that there are six hundred +acres of wheat land in this parish, and that hares consume, at the +least, two sacks per acre, there are twelve hundred sacks of corn taken +from men to be given to hares. I cannot think it a great sin, at this +rate, to let alone anybody that helps to root out the hares.” + +“You should get your landlord to allow you to shoot over your farm.” + +“’Tis done, sir; and what comes of that? Every labourer in the parish +may go and inform, unless I do him some favour that will keep his +good-will; and if his liking should be for sport, why, what can we do +but let each other alone?” + +“Then I am afraid the landlord’s only dependence is on his own +servants,—the tenant and poacher being leagued against him.” + +“That sort of dependence is but small, especially when gentlemen are not +on the spot in all seasons; as I may say to you, sir. There may be such +a thing as a league between the poacher and the woodman;—just such a +sort of league to break the laws as there was till lately between +gentlemen and their woodmen.” + +“My dear, what are you saying?” interrupted Mrs. Riley. + +“Only what Mr. Cranston knows to be true. He knows that, till the sale +of game was allowed by law, gentlemen encouraged their servants to sell +the game the gentlemen themselves shot. The woodmen that I have known +used to receive a quarter of the money so brought in. And, after a +sporting bout, when their masters had company staying with them for the +purpose, there was a higher allowance to the woodman, from the +consideration of the difficulty of disposing of a large quantity of game +at once.” + +“I wonder how much a servant might make in this manner?” observed James. +“It is a pleasant way enough of making a fortune.” + +“You must consider, sir, how many the gains have to be divided amongst. +Where poaching is done by gangs, as it is here, there are a great number +to share in the first instance. Then there are the coachmen or +van-drivers that carry the game up to London, and the porters that take +charge of it there. Then the poulterers must have their commission; +double what they have on poultry, on account of the risk. And then there +is the waste,—which is more than is easily counted,—what with the game +being mangled, and killed out of season, and sent up in a bad state. +Pheasants are sent up long after January, and hares with young; and +sometimes half a sackfull is good for nothing when it is unpacked. All +this can leave but little gain for the woodman’s share.” + +“And his gains must be most uncertain, too. When he sends up a fine +batch of game, he may chance to find that the market is overstocked. +There can be no regularity of supply where it is carried on in an +illegal and underhand manner.” + +“That is true, sir; and I have heard from people here, disappointed in +the way you speak of, that in the very middle of the season, when every +dinner-table in the London gentry’s houses had game upon it, full +one-third of what was sent up was thrown away. After hawking about what +was not quite past cooking, and selling birds for a few pence to anybody +that passed by, one poulterer alone threw two thousand partridges into +the Thames. This makes our people here so united as they are. They keep +up a perfect understanding all the way to London, that there may be the +less difficulty in poaching to order,—which is the surest way to make +money.” + +“To the poulterer’s order?” + +“Yes. He sends down a message, perhaps, that he has engaged to furnish +some thousand head a week for three weeks, and that he depends upon this +district; and then poaching is the order of the day. By the time the job +is done, the newspapers begin to cry out. There is often work for the +coroner, before all is over; and account is laid for a few going to +prison; but where all are banded together in prospect of this, the going +to prison is no disgrace, and not much of a hardship; and the +manslaughter comes to be looked upon as a matter of course.” + +“I shall tell my brother all this,” said James, rising. “Not so as to +implicate you,” he added, perceiving that Mr. Riley looked alarmed. “Now +is the time, while I am at Fellbrow, to keep a watch over our poaching +neighbours. Pray do they meddle with deer?” + +“Your gamekeeper can tell you that better than I can,” replied the +farmer, now grown wary as to his communications. “Would you like to step +abroad, sir, and look at the bit of ground I told you of?” + +“Why, yes: if you think the people below have got no more funerals ready +by this time.—Yes; let us go,” he added gravely, upon seeing Mrs. +Riley’s glance of astonishment. “Mrs. Riley, I owe you thanks for your +hospitality. If I have injured your son’s learning, I must do my best to +help him to make it up, by and bye, when he may come to church without +fear of being frowned at.” + +Mrs. Riley pronounced him a pleasant-mannered gentleman, as she peeped +between the climbers that covered the window to watch him and her +husband up the hill at the back of the house. + +“You will not be troubled with a heavy ground-rent, you see, sir, in a +situation like this,—(if you should pitch upon this place, where the +land is not to be sold.) You will find the difference between building +here, and building near the falls in the hills yonder, where the gentry +are rearing their boxes and their villas. Here you will have to pay no +great deal more than if the spot of ground was to be under the plough +instead of under a roof.” + +“Ah! you country folks know little yet of the difference in value of +bits of land that measure the same to a hair’s-breadth. A friend of mine +has been building a villa at Chiswick lately, and he pays four times as +much for the ground as he gets as the ground-rent of a capital house in +Winchelsea. This is all very fair. People must pay for good situations; +but I dare say you have no idea of such differences here?” + +“Enough to wish that the land-tax went a little more according to +situation than it does. ’Tis really ridiculous, how one has to pay five +times as much as another, without any reason that ever I heard tell.” + +“We south people beat you there, too. The very place I was mentioning, +Winchelsea, where there are not more than fifty houses that yield the +house-tax, pays, within thirty pounds, as much land-tax as Bath; and if +you could look down upon Bath as we now do upon your parish, you would +see the absurdity of such a taxation. In London, the difference is wider +still. I know of two parishes that pay above 9000_l._ in land-tax, with +a rental of 116,000_l._; while another parish that has now a rental of +720,000_l._ pays—how much land-tax, do you think?” + +“To be in the same proportion with the parishes you mention, it should +be 55,000_l._” + +“Instead of which it is under 500_l._ This is the fault of the way the +tax was managed at first, and not of anything that is done with it now: +but it sets one to inquire, before one begins to build or to purchase. +While some parishes pay 2_s._ 4_d._ in the pound, and others half a +quarter of a farthing, one likes to look into the matter.” + +“I see no end to the inequality, sir; that is the worst of it. If a +valuation once made is never to be altered, I don’t see but that every +improvement, every new bit of waste that is tilled, and every new +quarter of a town that is built, must increase the inequality. There is +our neighbouring county of Lancaster, with all its fine towns and +villages, almost as busy as London itself, paying no more land-tax than +some four or five such London parishes as you mentioned just now. You +see, its being made perpetual, some five-and-thirty years ago, and +allowed to be redeemed, and half of it being redeemed, makes it +difficult to touch now.” + +“Except to redeem the remainder. That was what Mr. Pitt wanted, no +doubt—to have done with this, without loss, and then to be free to lay +on a new tax. For my part, I like neither making valuation nor tax +perpetual; and to allow redemption is worse still, in principle. The +sacrifice made in redeeming a tax is made for ever and ever. See what a +scrape we are in now, in the case of this land-tax! The only way of +escape the sufferers can think of is by violating the valuation which +was declared unalterable. They cry out for a new assessment; leaving the +redeemed portions of land exempt, and equalizing the rest at the same +rate as formerly—4_s._ in the pound. They say that this would bring the +Government between one and two millions a-year more than at present; and +that if the assessment was kept equal, the whole would be gradually +redeemed.” + +“If the tax is to be got rid of, it may be more easily done now than by +and by; and a farmer may be allowed to wish it done with.” + +“Why? It does not fall upon you?” + +“Ask the assessor, sir, if I do not pay it into his hands, year by +year.” + +“Yes; but you pay it for your landlord, and you stop it out of your +rent. You know, if you run away to-night, the assessor comes upon your +landlord for it, instead of running after you. You know it is levied on +empty houses. Why, Mr. Riley, I never before heard anybody question that +the land-tax falls on the landlords, however much the point might be +doubted about the house-tax.” + +“I assure you, sir, there is less corn grown, by far, than there would +be without this tax; and is not that a bad thing for the farmer, when a +tax is the cause?” + +“A bad thing for everybody: but this is, so far, only like every other +tax. Every tax stints production in its way; yet there must be taxes. If +we are to go on taxing classes of people, I do not know that we could +have a better tax than this, if it was but made equal.” + +“It will never be that, sir.” + +“Perhaps so; but a direct tax, like this, is the only kind that can be +made equal; so we ought to take care how we quarrel with it, and show a +preference for indirect taxes,—a kind which never can be made equal. +Besides its capacity of being made equal, it has other good qualities. +It is certain. It is levied in a convenient way; and it goes pretty +straight to the Treasury. So that, (except that I should like to see a +simpler method of taxation, which should save us from laying a burden on +one class, and then balancing it with a burden laid upon another class,) +I have nothing to say against a properly-managed land-tax.” + +“But, sir, how are you to make it equal, while the land is so unequal? +If you tax all land at so much per acre, the owner of those bleak hills +above will pay much more than his share; and the fine land in our best +counties will yield much less than its share. Then, if you tax according +to the produce, people will not be long in finding out that your tax is +a tithe, sir; and you and I both know what they think of tithe.” + +“What should prevent its being levied—not in proportion to surface, or +to produce—but to rent? It would be thus thrown on the landlords, as I +said before. The exclusive taxation of a particular class is a bad +principle to go upon. But, while we do go upon that principle, and while +the poorer classes pay so much more taxes than their share, this tax +(equalized) is one of the last to be complained of. Rent, you know, is +naturally always rising.” + +“Then I wonder governments do not maintain themselves on rent. If a +government was a great landowner, it might live without taxing anybody.” + +“The governments of new countries, where land enough is left without an +owner, will be sufficiently wise, perhaps, to see this, in course of +time. If a government kept a portion of land, and behaved to its tenants +like a good landlord, it would find its revenues perpetually on the +increase, (with no other checks than would, at the same time, reduce its +expenditure), and not a farthing would be taken from the profits of the +farmer or the manufacturer; not a particle from the rewards of anybody’s +industry. A fine prospect that, for a new country, is not it?” + +“A fine dream, sir.” + +“A dream that might as certainly come true as my dream of a white house +upon this slope, with a wood behind, and a sheet of water spread out +where that stream is now wasted. No spot that I have seen compares with +this, certainly. I should set about securing it before I leave the +place, but that,”—and he half laughed, as if ashamed of his thought,—“I +must bring somebody to see it first.” + +“I hear, Mr. Cranston, that your sister——” + +“No, not my sister.—But, what were you going to say?” + +“Only what you have heard often enough before, I dare say. I hear that +your sister is the prettiest and kindliest lady that has ever been seen +here since——” + +He was going to allude to her mother, but stopped. + +“It depends upon how you happen to see her. If you find her in the +clouds, you may speak to her ten times before you get an answer; and I +doubt whether she looks pretty then. But when she is——I will positively +get her a horse from Swallow’s. I am more tired than she is of waiting +for her favourite mare. Nobody knows what Fanny is like that has not +seen her ride,—seen her hunt. O, yes! I will bring her here when she +begins to ride; and she will hear your little boy his alphabet. You +should see her with children.” + +The hour struck, and the sound came from the church tower below to +remind James of his fishing engagement. He had ceased to care about the +fishing; but he had some lingering hopes of falling in again with the +twins, if he pursued the circuitous road (over moorland and through a +park) which they had taken. + +Once on his way, he relaxed his speed no more. To judge by the starting +and shying of Diamond, Diamond’s master was nervous, or in excessive +haste. The moor-hen and her brood fled away uncoveted from beneath the +hoofs of the steed. The goats browzed unnoticed, or skipped from point +to point of the grey rocks under which the road wound for a part of the +way. The startling echo of the sportsman’s fowling-piece, sent back by +these fells, only made James look round to see if any timid girls were +in sight who might be alarmed by the shock. He was as much startled +himself as any timid girl, when he heard, in his passage through the +park, a rustling among the underwood and high ferns in just such a +corner as the twins might have chosen, for its shade and retirement, to +rest in. But it was only a fawn which burst away from his doubtful call, +as Sarah had done from his appointment. He was sorry and out of humour +at coming so soon in sight of the party he proposed to join. + +They did not see him—so busy were they with their sport. The horses, +which were loose and grazing near, looked up, tossed their heads, and +began to graze again. A boatman, sitting in a skiff that lay in the dark +reflection of the oaks and hollies which clothed the island in the +middle of the river, touched his hat. But the party about Moy’s-pool +(the most promising pool in the whole length of the river) were too much +occupied with their sport to look behind them, or to listen for horses’ +hoofs. Fish lay heaped and scattered on the grass; and more was being +drawn. Richard, who was stretched at length, showed himself interested +in as far as he had raised himself on his elbow. Fanny herself had hold +of a net; and Wallace and the servants were as active as the occasion of +so large a prey required. + +“They do not want me,” thought James, half sulkily. “I shall ride on to +the Paddock, and see about a horse for Fanny, and—whether those girls +are home.” + +Diamond’s hoofs made a crash on the small pebbles as he turned back to +the road. Fanny had so much to tell and to show, about how long they had +been expecting him, how they had wished for him, and what feats they had +performed without him, that James dismounted to admire the plumpness of +the char, and to verify Wallace’s boast that that fat old fellow that he +had just caught weighed two pounds. It was not long before James was +trying whether he could not draw one which would weigh two pounds and an +ounce. + + + CHAPTER IV. + + CLERICAL RECREATIONS. + + +James was indefatigable in his exertions to get his sister suited with a +horse. He was at the Paddock every day for a fortnight; and he would not +be satisfied without Fanny’s going there too, to try one and another +horse in the fields behind the stables. Sometimes the girls came out, +curtseying to the young lady, and giving an opinion when asked. Fanny +delighted her brother by a spontaneous exclamation about their beauty, +the first time she saw them: but she presently vexed him by being +extremely amused at their perfect likeness. If it had not been that a +young greyhound was for ever in attendance upon one, Fanny could not +have pretended to distinguish them. James told her she had no eyes. + +“They are all stupid alike,” muttered he. “That greyhound has more sense +than any of them. It is only three days since I gave him to her, and +_he_ never mistakes Anne for her, in the dusk or in the daylight. To +talk of their eyes being alike! as if colour was everything in eyes! +Anne’s are pretty enough; but they never had such a light in them as +Sarah’s. And then the blush——I thought Fanny had been fond enough of her +garden to know the difference between a folded convolvulus (which is a +graceful thing enough in its way) and one that is glowing in dew when +the sun has just expanded it.” + +A very short dialogue showed Fanny which it was that James preferred. It +would not have been necessary, if she had known how Sarah came by the +greyhound. + +“What a pretty creature Anne is!” observed Fanny, when, with a smile, +Anne opened the gate, for her horse to pass into the field. + +“Beautiful,” cried James, with enthusiasm. “O, she is a beautiful +creature!” + +“You think her the prettiest,—you like her the best of the two?” + +“No,” said he, with sudden quietness; “I admire Sarah the most.” + +This made Fanny turn her head to take another look; but it was Anne who +gazed after them. Sarah was busy with her dog Fido. + +James was not wrong in his observations on eyes. A new light had fixed +itself in Sarah’s; and if he did not perceive something of the same kind +in Anne’s, it was perhaps owing to the light being often troubled, and +sometimes dimmed. The serenity of both was gone. Sarah did not wish it +back again. Anne did; every hour between rising and rest. + +They had ceased to move together,—unavoidably, when one had a dog and +the other had not,—but neither was yet awake to the fact that they no +longer thought and felt alike. One morning they sat, like the reflection +of each other, on either side of a work-table: each making herself a +frill of the same material; each with her footstool: and that the left +foot of the one, and the right of the other was advanced, only made the +resemblance more complete. The difference was that Anne attended to her +work, while Sarah peered anxiously through the glass door which +communicated with the office, where her father might be seen reading a +letter. After a while, Anne reared her chin to try on the frill. + +“Let me see how yours looks,” said she. “Sarah! here is mine finished; +and yours is not done!” + +Sarah began to ply her needle, uneasy at being left behind. Anne amused +herself with stroking and coaxing the greyhound. She did not think of +beginning any other employment till Sarah should be ready. + +“I wonder why Mr. Cranston did not give me a greyhound!” observed Anne. + +“I dare say my father will,” replied Sarah. + +“But I had rather Mr. Cranston had. I am afraid,—I am pretty sure, Mr. +Cranston does not like me.” + +“O yes, he does.” + +“How do you know? Did he tell you so?—Why did not he tell me? He never +told me that he liked you.” + +A deep blush spread itself over Sarah’s cheeks. + +“I never saw anybody like Mr. Cranston,” pursued Anne. “None of the +gentlemen that have passed through A—— have been the least like him.” + +“O, no: nor ever will.” + +“His manner is so—I don’t know what. And his voice——” + +“You may know it among a hundred;—as far off as you can hear it.” + +“It goes through one’s heart.—How dull the day is now when he does not +come!” + +“But he does come every day.” + +“No: not last Wednesday.” + +“O yes! he did. But he did not stay very long: and you were in the field +with George, looking after the foal. He has never once missed a day +yet.” + +Anne’s face was crimson while she asked why she had not seen him; why +she had not been told: why——she stopped because she could not go on, and +Sarah had nothing more to say than that she did not see that there was +any particular occasion for telling. + +“Where did he come?” demanded Anne. “Was he in this room, or in the +paddock, or where?” + +“I had my bonnet on, just coming to you in the field,” replied Sarah:— +“my bonnet _was_ on; and so I went with him;—he wanted to show me +something in the park.” + +“Why did not you call me? I could have come in a moment.” + +Sarah did not raise her eyes while she said in a low voice that Mr. +Cranston did not wish it. She was not very much taken by surprise when +she saw Anne, an instant after, in a passion of tears. Her own were +streaming immediately, while she hoped Anne was not very angry with her. +Indeed she could not help it.—Whatever might be the mixture of feelings +which embittered Anne’s tears, she spoke only of her sister’s reserve. +Her reproaches were very grievous, till Sarah’s patient sorrow softened +her in spite of herself. She had had no comfort of her life, for some +time past, she declared. There was always something to expect and be +afraid of. She could not help wishing Mr. Cranston to come, and yet she +was often glad when he went away. He never came but something +disagreeable passed. She did not think he would have been so careful to +give her back her thimble, that he had got from the turnpike-house. It +had prevented her daring to give him anything, for fear he should refuse +it; and yet he had seemed to be very much pleased with the purse Sarah +had netted for him. She supposed Sarah had found out that she had felt +mortified often lately; for nobody could help seeing that Sarah had +taken a great deal upon her lately;—more than anybody could have +expected that had always known them. + +Sarah tried to speak calmly while she answered that she had never +intended to take more upon her than she should. She could truly say she +had been more sorry for Anne than she had ever been for any one in her +life. She had hoped, every time that Miss Cranston came, that either the +eldest Mr. Cranston or Mr. Wallace would come with her, instead of the +one that did come:—she was so certain that either of them must like Anne +quite as well as the one that did come liked her. + +Anne saw that all was over. She declared she did not want to be liked by +anybody, sent the dog away from her knee with a rebuke, and left the +room. + +It was not long before Sarah was again by her side; not to comfort or +condole, but to consult with her. She had been so completely thrown out +by the failure of what she meant for sympathy, just now, that she did +not venture to touch upon any matter of feeling with Anne. She had, in +ten minutes, grown almost as much afraid of her as of a stranger: but +she felt herself less able than ever to act without Anne’s opinion. + +“Do you know, Anne, I do believe there is going to be an expedition +to-night or to-morrow night!” + +“I dare say there is. I saw my father reading a letter from London; and +he sent George out to A——, directly after. Why should not there be an +expedition, as there has been often before?” + +“It is so different now from what it was before, when the family were +not here!” + +“Yes: our party will not have all their own way any longer. I suppose +the woodmen must take some notice, now; and Mr. Morse has grown violent +against the poachers, they say, since there has been some use in keeping +up the game, as he says. Alick Morse says his father has as good a mind +to dodge a poacher now as a stoat has to dodge a hare.” + +“That is a bright thing for Alick Morse to say. But I am afraid of their +coming to a fight, Anne.” + +“O, I’m not afraid of what would come of a fight. Our party is too +strong to take any harm; and they will do none to Alick and the other +woodman; and Mr. Morse won’t run himself into danger against the party.” + +“I was not thinking of the Morses,” replied Sarah, wondering at her +sister’s dulness. “If the Mr. Cranstons mean to do what they say——” + +“Ah! to be sure,” cried Anne. “They can’t know what a party they would +have to come out against.” + +“So, let us go and tell them,” said Sarah, briskly. + +Anne stared in astonishment. To go and inform against their family and +their neighbours; to provide for the discomfiture of their own party; to +prevent their father from executing the orders which brought him in as +much as his trade in horses;—to do this confounded all Anne’s notions of +right and wrong. Sarah must be out of her mind to think of such a thing. +The more vehement she was in saying this, the more inclined Sarah was to +go and entreat the family not to enter the woods at night, whatever +might be going on there. If she could prevail,—(and if she saw James, +she had no doubt of prevailing,)—all danger to both parties might be +avoided. If Anne would not accompany her, she thought she should go +alone. + +“You shall not,” said Anne. “If you think of such a thing, I will run +and tell my father.” + +“No, you will not,” said Sarah, with quivering lips. “We never told my +father of one another in our lives.” + +“You never thought of doing such a thing as this in your life. I shall +make haste and tell him.” + +They did not know that their father had just gone out. The moment Anne +had turned her back, Sarah seized her bonnet,—(her field bonnet and +gloves, for there was no time to run up for those in which she would +have wished to appear at Fellbrow,)—and was gone from under the archway +before any one noticed her escape, except Fido, against whom, in her +hurry, she had shut the door, but who found his way to his mistress +through an open window. + +While she was breathlessly crossing a corner of the park, she fell in +with Alick Morse, who sheepishly smiled and pulled off his hat. + +“O, Alick, I am glad I met you. Can you tell me where the gentlemen are? +Are they abroad to-day?” + +Alick pointed towards the mansion, as much as to say that they were +there. His smile had vanished: for if she was going up there, among the +gentry, he could not walk with her, as he was about to offer to do. + +“How is your father, as relates to the game?” + +“Very cross, Miss Sarah. But now that I catch you alone, by a chance,— +for I never had the chance before,—I want to say——” + +“But I want to hear about the game and your father.” + +“Well, the long and short is, I think he gets no rest for the game, +night nor day. The gentlemen,—the two younger,—are after his own heart; +for they have him up early every fine morning, after some sport or +other; and he likes, as he says, making up for all the years he has been +idle. But, dear me! ’tis at night he makes up most for all the sleep he +had all those years. There’s not a bough can rustle, nor a gust moan, +but he is up, and out to watch.” + +“And there has been no cause, lately.—You look sly, as if you thought +there soon would be.” + +“Perhaps you know as much about it as I, Miss Sarah, and perhaps more. +But there is no use in disturbing my father’s mind, if you should chance +to meet him. Well now, if there be not——Dear me, I suppose I must go! +Who would have thought of any gentry sitting reading out of doors +to-day!” + +“Yes: it is Mr. Cranston and Miss Cranston. You must go, Alick.” + +Alick withdrew within the verge of the wood, and Sarah and Fido advanced +to the bench where Richard and Fanny were sitting in the late autumnal +sunshine, each with a book, and neither of them reading.—Sarah said that +she came to speak to Mr. Cranston, the clergyman; but if he was not at +home, she would speak now what she meant to say. Richard was always +afraid of the propounding of any matter of business; and was therefore +as willing to help her to an interview with James as Fanny was, because +she perceived that James was the one whom Sarah wished to see. James had +just gone towards the stables, and was coming directly in his gig to +take up his sister, whom he was going to drive over to his living. If +Sarah went straight from hence towards the stables, she could not miss +him. + +She did not miss him. He was approaching in his gig; and in another +minute, notwithstanding an abundance of protestations, blushes and +tremors, Sarah filled Miss Cranston’s place in the vehicle, and a +circuitous road was found to the park gates, by which another sight of +the reading party was avoided. James never used any ceremony with his +sister; he declared she had a sort of pride in not keeping her +appointments; so she was fair game. Ten to one, too, that she preferred +dawdling with Richard till dinner-time; and Sarah could say what she +wanted much better in the gig; and, besides, James had always wished to +show her the house he was building, and to see how she liked it; and +there could not be a better opportunity than now. + +When Sarah returned, hoping, but not assured, that James would leave the +poachers to their own devices, her sister asked her no questions as to +where she had been all this long time. Anne had also repented, before +her father appeared again in the office, of her resolution to inform +against her sister. There was peace between them, and they were at +liberty to communicate their speculations upon the expedition which they +were now certain was intended for to-night. There was more than usual +preparation made, as soon as it grew dusk, in stocking the office with +bottles and cans, with stools, pipes and tobacco, and sawdust, strewn +lest any feet should bring in marks of blood—the blood of man, or of +beast or fowl. The girls were sent up to bed earlier than usual. They +found it extremely vexatious that their chamber looked towards the +street, so that they could not see the poachers drop in through the +Paddock. Mr. Taplin, the assessor, called between nine and ten—as they +supposed, at a very inconvenient time; and they could imagine how vexed +their father must be at his staying so long. He certainly did not go +away before they gave over watching for his departure. + +Sarah little knew her lover yet if she really confided in his keeping at +home when he knew that poachers were abroad. All the evening he was +rousing, or trying to rouse, his brother to the due degree of +indignation at being despoiled of his property in so provoking a way. He +paid as much for every family of pheasants as would bring up ten broods +of fowls. Large sums were stopped off his rents for damage done by his +hares. His deer were kept within bounds at a great expense. He paid duty +for gamekeepers, horses, and dogs used in his sports; and yet the game, +for which all this cost was incurred, was to be taken by a set of +wretches who would be beneath notice but for their power of doing +mischief. If they were stout young men, who came for the frolic of the +thing, he should not be so angry; but, as far as he could learn—— + +Nobody could imagine where and how James managed to learn who and what +the poachers were. + +That did not matter; he had good authority for what he said,—that one +boy, at least, was sent out to set snares—sent out by himself, or with +only his father,—not amidst any bustle and frolic, but coolly, and as +the agent of a theft. Then, of those who went out at night, some enjoyed +the sport; but the greater number joined to get drink and money for +their services as guard. The shoemaker, and the chimney-sweeper, and the +constable—— + +The constable! + +Yes. The constable went out to break heads, if need were, in defiance of +the law. These men were considered too clumsy to be employed in taking +the game: but they could carry bludgeons, for the consideration of a +glass of gin, and a dividend from the poulterers; through what hands +delivered, his brother might be surprised, some day, to learn. + +Richard was willing to wait for that day. As long as they let him alone, +they were welcome to anything that was in the park. If they left him +deer enough to please his eye as he sat under the trees, and birds +enough for his brothers’ sports, his purposes were answered. He was glad +they could amuse themselves with his property while he was asleep. This +last word brought on him an appeal under the head of morals. Poachers +were always utterly corrupted, if their practices were long unchecked; +like most people (unless the members of the House of Commons might be +excepted) whose work is done at night instead of in the day. Instead of +the shoemaker taking up his awl, or the chimney-sweeper his sack, with +the spirit that the morning naturally brings with it, these creatures +would stagger home at dawn, and be thrown into bed for the day, while +their wives must invent lies which their children are to tell, in excuse +for their not being seen at their work. Richard could not deny that such +an order of affairs was a bad one; but did not see how his arm could +arrest a host of poachers; and he could not possibly be answerable for +the morals of the shoemakers and constables of A——. + +As nothing more was to be made of Richard, his brothers left him, and +prepared for a long and wary walk. Mrs. Day turned pale, and Fanny was +very grave when the bustle of assembling their home forces began in the +hall; when strips of something white were called for to be put round the +hats, to distinguish friends from enemies; when pistols gleamed; and +when deep voices from the court pronounced it a sharp, starlight night. + +“Who is that tall man, James?” whispered Fanny, who was looking on from +the stairs. “The one on the steps, I mean.” + +“Who are you?” asked James, going up to the person. + +It was Richard. Of course, he did not mean to stay behind, if his +brothers chose to spoil sport. Thus, Fanny and Mrs. Day were to be left +to listen from the windows, without the support of any person qualified +to laugh at what was really foolish in their apprehensions. With +chattering teeth, with shawls drawn over their heads, did they lean out +of the window of the darkened drawing-room, trusting that, if there +should be any shot, they should have notice of it from the face of the +rock below. + +The gentlemen and their servants proceeded first to Morse’s cottage. He +was not at home; but Alick was,—looking out of the window, as was the +fashion this night. His father had gone out some time ago, he said, +fancying, as he did every night, that he heard a noise somewhere. The +wonder was that he was not back yet. Alick was pressed into the service +to go and seek for him. + +Nothing could be more exciting to the young men than their walk through +the wood, treading cautiously on the thick strewn leaves, and mistaking +every sigh of the gust among the naked boughs for the coming forth of an +enemy from ambush. The stars, bright as they were, gave too little light +to be of much service amidst the trees; and a guide was appointed from +among the servants to lead the way to the woodman’s cottage. When he +reached the fence which surrounded it, he turned to whisper, + +“They can’t be far off now, sir. There is a man up in that tree. If you +will stand where I do, you will see him.” + +“Come down, whoever you are!” said James. “Come down, or I’ll fire!” + +“For mercy’s sake, sir, don’t!” cried a voice which had nothing very +manly in it; and the dark form was seen to be descending with all speed. + +“What was he doing there?” asked Richard, as a boy was pulled by the +collar into his immediate presence. “Stealing walnuts! What brought you +out, you little wretch, to steal walnuts?” + +He had been told by his father to stay here till the party came past on +their way home, lest he should get a mischief; and he thought he might +as well be doing something, like the rest of them. He had tried the +hen-roost first; but some of the party had been there before him, and +there was nothing left for him but the walnuts; and they were only the +gleanings, after the best part of the crop had been gathered. He had +news to give of the keeper. He had seen him taken.—Taken?—Ay; skulking +behind this cottage, to watch the poachers. It seemed to him that +somebody from within had given notice that he was there. However that +might be, Morse’s gun was taken from him, and he was carried off. Such +was the story told by George Swallow. + +The inmate of this cottage was sound asleep, if prodigious snoring might +be taken as a test. He was not allowed further repose, but summoned to +bring out his gun; and George Swallow was left tenant of the house,—tied +by the leg to the bed-post. + +If the gentlemen had come out in pursuit of game, they could have +started none more tempting than the fine stag which, being roused from +its lair, stood for an instant gazing on them from a distance of forty +paces. Wallace had a cry of admiration ready as the graceful creature +stood in the dim light; but before he could utter it,—before the animal +could bound away, a perfectly aimed shot came from some other quarter; +and instantly a large body of men crowded round the fallen stag. In vain +was the signal of silence given by Mr. Cranston, and most earnestly +propagated by Alick and the other woodman. Wallace shouted, James echoed +him, and the servants followed. The poachers rushed forward. A gun was +fired; by whom, and with what effect, nobody knew at the moment. A +second shot ensued, whose consequences were immediately perceived by Mr. +Cranston’s party. Alick sunk down with a cry like that of a woman. His +father knew the voice, and sprang from among his captors to the side of +his son. The fight which ensued was very harmless, the poachers +perceiving that they were in no danger from such a handful of enemies. +With the most provoking coolness, they retreated, carrying their game +with them, and only laughing at the pursuit of their foes. If they would +only have been angry, and gone on fighting, there would have been some +consolation. But they would fight no more. + +Neither did they sport any more; at least, not visibly nor audibly. As +it was undesirable that they should be tracked to their place of +carouse, and as it was necessary to cut up their venison into a more +portable state, they retired behind Whitford’s granary, and there took +up a strong position, rightly supposing that the enemy would see no use +or safety in watching them for any length of time. While knives were +being plied with skill upon the venison, those who were not wanted for +the work thought it a pity they should be idle. A sheep of Whitford’s +was abstracted from the flock by one detachment, while another sought +the place where the granary had been last tapped, and drew a further +supply of fine wheat which was pretty sure not to be missed. In these +expeditions, it was a rule of morals to employ every man according to +his capacity. Those who could neither kill game nor cut it up delicately +were very capable of boring a hole in the floor of a loft full of corn, +and, when the bag was filled, of stopping up the hole with a cork till +next time. This done, all proved themselves capable of swearing +fellowship and drinking more or less gin or other spirit in Swallow’s +office, whether or not they could sing such songs as frightened the twin +sisters from their sleep in the farthest corner of the house. + +On this occasion, the sisters were spared the panic suffered by Mrs. Day +and Fanny, when a wounded man was brought in to be put to bed, and +supposed dying till the surgeon could be summoned to see him. Fanny’s +satisfaction at her brothers’ coming home safe was much impaired by the +moodiness of their countenances, which seemed to betoken that the strife +with their neighbours was not at an end. + + + CHAPTER V. + + VOWED SISTERHOOD. + + +Poor Alick Morse died in three days. The brothers did not wait for the +event to show their determination to put down the practice of poaching +in their neighbourhood. Several suspected persons at A—— were brought up +before the magistrates, the morning after the adventure; some of them +being caught (before they had completely emerged from their drunken fit) +with sheep’s wool or grains of corn stuck with blood to their +shoe-soles, or their hands blackened with powder, or smelling of +venison. George Swallow was committed, with all ceremony; and the county +was pledged to prosecute him for his theft of five walnuts. His father +offered to whip him to any extent their worships might think proper; but +it was decided that he should be consigned to vagabond society in gaol +for a couple of months, and cause the county an expense of the requisite +number of pounds, in order to his being finally condemned to four days’ +imprisonment. When poor Alick died, (after having been removed, by his +father’s peremptory desire, to his cottage,) Morse was much cheered by +seeing his natural office of avenger of blood so well filled as it was +by his two younger masters, who actually dogged the heels of the +reluctant constable, to see that he did his duty in taking up the +suspected. The only thing that vexed the gamekeeper was Mr. James’s +obstinacy in disbelieving that Swallow had anything to do in the affair. +There was more reason for arresting Swallow than many another that was +marched before their worships: but James quashed every hint in this +man’s disfavour; and Swallow might be seen exhibiting himself about his +own premises with an air of triumph equally offensive to his accomplices +and to him whom some believed him to have most deeply injured. + +“Come, come, my poor fellow,” said James to Morse, “let us have no more +of this. I cannot listen to an information that has so little in it as +yours. Tell me of anything else that I can do for you, Morse. Would it +be a satisfaction to you that I should bury your son?” + +Morse uncovered his grizzled locks, and a deeper red than usual burned +in his jolly cheeks, as he acknowledged the young clergyman’s kindness. +He did not think Alick had supposed his young master would do him this +honour, though the poor lad had brought himself to ask whether his +father believed that a funeral sermon would be preached for him. + +“There shall be one, certainly, if it will be any satisfaction to you. I +should not wonder at your desiring it; but what could make Alick wish +it?” + +“He liked the idea that Sarah Swallow would hear him made much of, sir. +In fact, sir, he left his silver-topped gin-bottle to the parson, if he +made her cry at his funeral sermon. Hope no offence, sir?” + +James had an idea that he had a better chance of making Sarah cry than +any other parson in the world. He was pretty sure of the gin-bottle, if +he chose to try for it: but he was heartily vexed that he had promised +the sermon. While he was meditating his next evasion, Morse went on,— + +“And since you have been so ready about the sermon, sir, perhaps you +have no objection to be accommodating about the text?” + +“None in the world,” replied James, hoping that the matter would end in +the necessity of making Sarah laugh. “Let me hear.” + +“Perhaps you remember, sir, the text about the soul——something about the +bird and the snare of the fowler. My son thought that text would tell +that the manner of his death was by poachers.” + +“As if everybody did not know that already!” muttered James. “Well, +Morse; make yourself easy.” + +“And you may depend, sir, on having the gin-bottle on the Monday +morning.” + +“And when is the funeral to be, Morse?” + +“Why, sir, they say it must be to-morrow, sir. The undertaker says so, +sir; or else——” + +“To-morrow! D—n it!” muttered James. “Wallace and I had fixed to-morrow +for a morning’s shooting; and it is the last day we shall have this +week. Morse, did your master say he could spare you to-morrow?” + +“He did, sir. I am as sorry as you can be to spoil sport in such a way. +But the undertaker is positive.” + +“Then there is no help for it. I am not going back from my word, Morse.” + +It was a most delicious morning for sport. James came down with a +countenance as black as night. Wallace was making ready to go forth. He +only waited to know whether James meant to meet him in A——, some hours +hence, on business relating to these poachers. Certainly. James thought +he might as well get two irksome engagements fulfilled in one day. He +would meet Wallace at the Turk’s Head in the afternoon. + +“Bless me! I’m late, I suppose,” cried he. “Here’s poor Morse himself +coming to look after me. That punch was so confoundedly strong last +night, I could not wake for the life of me this morning. Coming, Morse. +I’m sorry if I’m late; but I dare say you have got a methodist or two +from A——, and they will entertain your company with a hymn till we get +up to beat their cover. Don’t hurry yourself, my poor fellow.” + +“By no means, sir. But what I came for was——I hate to spoil sport, sir, +and it is a rare morning; and so, sir, if you will make me sure of the +sermon, I’ll let you off this morning’s work, and secure you the +gin-bottle, all the same.” + +“Now I call that kind, Morse.” + +“And when I have seen him earthed, sir——” + +“Ah! you will hardly know what to do with yourself. Suppose you look for +the text you mentioned; and by the time you have found it for me, we +shall have something to amuse you with—about what is done with the +poachers at A——.” + +It did not appear, in the sequel, that looking out texts was precisely +the occupation that best suited Morse, even on this occasion. As Fanny +and Mrs. Day were walking, a little after noon, in a field at some +distance from the park, they saw Morse, with his gun on his arm, and his +dog snuffing about at a little distance. Fanny’s feelings for the bereft +father would have led her to avoid intruding upon him to-day; but he +bent his steps towards her. He evidently meant to accost her, and she +therefore broke the ice. + +“What brought you here, Morse? Where have you been walking?” + +“I’ve been no farther than Lye Wood. I’ve been to my son’s funeral not +far from there; and I thought I would try the cover as I came back. Now +I’ve happened to meet you, ladies, I am glad I let off the young parson +from the funeral. He would have been with me, as I’ve taken the sporting +circuit instead of the straight road; and it is of him that I am going +to speak. No harm, or no great harm,” said he to Mrs. Day, who had +turned pale through some undefined apprehension of evil. “No greater +harm, ladies, than his making love down yonder; making love, as all +young men do.” + +“What do you mean? Making love to whom? What sort of person is she?” +hastily inquired Mrs. Day. + +“You may guess it is to no unfitting person,” replied Morse; “for my +poor son meant to have had her himself, if he had but lived. ’Tis Sarah +Swallow that I mean; and all I tell you for is, that he may not make her +his lady, as the folks have it he means to do. Her father looks boastful +enough to put it into every one’s head; and I myself saw them in the gig +together when, it is my belief, she had been to view his new house, +where he will be taking her to live, one of these days, if you don’t +look to it.” + +“I was pretty sure he was in love,” said Fanny. “I have thought so this +fortnight past.” + +“Breast-high,” observed Morse. + +“This young person must be sent away immediately,” declared Mrs. Day. +“We must speak to Mr. Cranston directly, Fanny, and get it done.” + +“You will hardly manage that,” said Fanny, “unless the girl has done +something wrong. How can we send her away? What right have we to quarrel +with her having a lover?” + +“The scent will lie too strong; you’ll never break it. He will start +after her,” solemnly declared Morse. + +“But, Fanny, you would not send away your brother; you would not attempt +it, if you consider this new living that he has to attend to. Besides, I +believe he would not go.” + +“Certainly not, if he is in love. Why send away either of them? Why +roughen the course of true love?” + +“My dear, think of the consequences! You are so strangely wild, Fanny, +sometimes. Think of the consequences, if they stay in the same +neighbourhood,—one of the Mr. Cranstons marrying the daughter of a +country horse-dealer!” + +Fanny thought the real wildness and folly was in people’s loving one +person and marrying another. If James and Sarah loved each other, she, +for one, should not dare to interfere between them. Once convinced of +the fact of their attachment, she would offer herself as a sister to +Sarah Swallow, even if Sarah were herself a horse-dealer, and rode to +the fair at the end of a string of her own quadrupeds. + +“I suppose, then, you will be for going to vow sisterhood with this +girl, this moment,” said Mrs. Day, with much vexation in her tone. “You +will do your best to assist the scandal against your family, Fanny.” + +“I shall vow nothing till I know whether they are in love. If they are— +(I put it to you, Mrs. Day)—if they are in love, which is the greater +scandal—that the wedded in heart should be wedded in hand, or that he +should break this poor girl’s heart, and give his hand to somebody +else?” + +“You do not choose to look into consequences, Fanny; you will not, or +you would see what would become of society, if young men of family are +to marry in such a way, on pretence of being in love.” + +Fanny would not allow the word “pretence.” Pretence is not used to +secure disadvantages—of alliance or anything else. She also declared +that she did look very far into consequences,—into the cold married life +of the lover, and the dreary lot of the deserted, and all the crimes +which must be perpetrated on all hands before hearts that cling can be +separated. + +“But, my dear, only look at what will happen in such a case as this. +The——” + +“I see,—the endless troubles of a horse-dealer’s daughter in polished +society; (for I suppose we Cranstons are more or less polished in +London, however wild we may be here.) I grant you all these troubles; +but they are better than broken or hardened hearts. Depend upon it, Mrs. +Day, these are cases for prevention, not cure.” + +“What else have I been saying, Fanny? I want to send her away before it +is too late.” + +“It is too late, in this case,—always provided that they really love. +God has joined them, and I will not help to put them asunder. What I +mean about prevention and cure is, that people should be prepared to +love in the right place—where there is equality, not of rank, but of +mind. Till then, I am for love—true love—leading on to marriage, sooner +or later, as naturally as dawn leads on to perfect day.” + +“But I have no doubt this is a mere fancy of your brother’s,—a mere +pastime while he is in the country.” + +“Ah! that is altogether another question. I agree with you that it is +far too likely: but in that case, it is particularly necessary that I +should make a friend of this good girl; for I am sure she is a good +girl.” + +“She is, Miss Cranston,” averred Morse. + +“I may save her from a bitter disappointment, or prepare her, in some +degree, for it,” added Fanny. “But, Mrs. Day, I rather think my +brothers, and thousands more, would never dream of such cruel sport— +would have no such fancies—if it was a natural and a settled thing that +they should marry where they love.” + +“So you are going to run down to this young person, and put it into her +head that it is her duty and your brother’s that they should marry!” + +“If that is not in her head already, Mrs. Day, she will spurn me for +trying to put it there, you may be quite sure, if Sarah has the true +woman’s heart; and she is too young to have a more sophisticated one. I +am going; but I am afraid you will not be my companion.” + +“Certainly not, till I have spoken to Mr. Cranston.” + +“Poor Richard!” thought Fanny; “it would be rather burdensome to him to +have to alter the laws of nature, to evade the talk of our London +acquaintance. I don’t think Mrs. Day will persuade him to try.—— +Good-bye, Mrs. Day. If this news is not true, perhaps I shall be as glad +as you; if it is true, I really advise you to try to be as content as I +shall be, and (I think I may say) Richard too.”—— + +Of course, Mrs. Day shook her head. She turned back in the direction of +Fellbrow; while Fanny proceeded towards the Paddock—not with her usual +step, but sometimes lingering under the hedges, and sometimes hastening. +Her heart was in a kind of tumult,—now fluttering with pleasure—a new +kind of pleasure—at the idea of a brother being in love, (an event which +she had long looked for in vain in Richard’s case,) and now full of +anxiety lest there should be a lowness of heart and mind, as well as of +birth, in Sarah, which should injure or extinguish the love. Fanny was a +somewhat partial sister; and she was not aware how essentially vulgar +was the mind of him before whom heads were uncovered, as if, because he +was a clergyman, he must be a wise and good man. + +Fanny was herself surprised at the time she had lost when the church +clock of A—— gave out the hour, just as she had succeeded in dragging +down a lofty hazel-bough, and in obtaining the last nut that danced in +the air with it. She reproached herself duly for the divers blackberry +stains she had incurred, and crossed the last stile of Whitford’s +fields, into the road which led to the Paddock and to A——. Here she +walked on with all sobriety, pondering the ground rather than the high +hazel-boughs, till she was roused by a shout of many voices—a din which +alarmed her. Looking up, she saw the twins, preceded by Fido, flying +along the road towards her; while, some way behind them, just at the +entrance of the town, appeared a rushing crowd, from which proceeded the +clamour. The girls eagerly waved to her to turn back, and were evidently +exhausting their own strength in flight. “An over-driven bullock,” +thought Fanny, turning, and making for the stile she had crossed. She +reached and passed it; and then, supposing herself in a perfectly safe +place, she leaned over to make a signal to the girls that here their +flight might end. They could not speak when they approached; but they +made vehement signs that she must not stand there. It was, indeed, a +dog, and not a bullock, that was being chased. She saw the creature +making along the road, and could recognize the peculiar carriage which +denoted its madness. She was in agony for the exhausted girls, who were +actually stumbling amidst their attempts to reach the stile. The dog +might take it into his head to fly at them over, or through, the stile; +but it was worth any exertion to get them out of the direct path of the +animal. She stood on the middle rail, and stretched out her arms to +them; while Fido leaped backwards and forwards between her and them. +They made another effort, when they heard from her the words—“A barn! +here is a barn!” One reached and threw herself upon her, was dragged +over, and fell on the grass; the other, Sarah, was somewhat stronger, +and helped to lift up Anne, and pull her towards the barn, whose wide +doors stood open. The thresher was wondering what all this could mean, +when he stopped work, so as to hear something besides his own flail. The +dog appeared, leaping through the stile, and explained everything. The +girls were rudely pushed into the barn, and the doors closed upon them. +Fido would not come in. “Tie him up! tie him up!” cried Sarah through +the door. “Ay, ay,” answered the thresher from without. They hoped that +Fido was safe at the back of the building; and were spared the sight of +the dashing out of the mad creature’s brains by the flail of the +thresher. + +“Do give us air,” cried Fanny, when he put his head in to tell them all +was safe. “These girls seem suffocating. May we have the doors open?” + +Each pretty creature lay panting on the great heap of straw, while their +friend fanned them with her hat; they looking as if they would intreat +her not to trouble herself, if they could but find voice. How fresh came +in the cool air,—how bright did the pale sunshine look,—when the doors +were once more thrown wide! When the crowd were convinced that nothing +more was to be expected from the dog, and that the best chance of +amusement lay in finding out how many people he might have bitten in the +town, the field was presently cleared, and the thresher returned to the +barn. + +While wiping his flail, preparatory to using it again, he growled and +grumbled about the danger from mad dogs, and its increase of late. In +his young days, nobody thought of dogs being mad later in the year than +September. We should soon be subject to them all the year round, he +supposed. + +Fanny supposed this individual dog had been driven mad by some +particular accident or ill-usage. As for the rest, how was it to be +helped? Did the thresher mean to say that it was any body’s fault that +there were more mad dogs than formerly? + +“Ay, ay,” replied the thresher. “If dogs were taxed as they should be, +they would not swarm as they do in the dog-days.” + +“But I thought there was abundance of taxation of dogs: I am sure my +brothers pay as much for theirs as would maintain a poor man’s family. +There is a duty of six-and-thirty pounds on their pack of hounds, in the +first place; and then fourteen shillings a-head on all their other dogs, +which are not a few.” + +“Very well—very right,” observed the thresher. “Your brothers are not +the gentlemen to grumble at paying for luxuries, I dare say, any more +than these young ladies have hitherto grudged their pound a year for the +pretty creature behind there,” nodding towards the back of the barn. The +girls looked at one another, not having been aware that the possession +of Fido would bring upon Sarah or her father the expense of a pound a +year duty. + +Fanny thought nothing could be more proper than that her brothers should +pay duty for their luxuries, whether of dogs, horses, or any thing else. +If they grew displeased with the expense, they had only to give up the +indulgence, which was more than the poor man could do in regard to the +taxed articles used by him. She only mentioned what her brothers paid +because the thresher seemed to think dogs were not sufficiently taxed. + +The thresher thought so still. He did not want that dogs used for such +real and useful service as his boy’s dog on the sheep-walk above should +be taxed. When Mr. Taplin had tried to make out, last appeal day, that +that dog belonged to Mr. Whitford, and ought to pay duty, the thresher +had successfully opposed him, and the Commissioners had decided that a +shepherd’s dog used in the shepherd’s business, should be exempt. But it +was a very different thing, allowing dogs to go free of duty because +they belong to the poor; and letting a vast number go unaccounted for in +compounding for taxes. If poor men keep dogs for a luxury, let them pay +more or less for this luxury, since it is one that brings mischief after +it if too extensively used; and it is not difficult to draw the line +between these dogs and those which help the poor man in his occupation,— +such as butchers’ and drovers’ dogs. + +“I am sure,” said Fanny, “I have seen hundreds of dogs in London, whose +masters can pay no tax, to judge by the plight of the poor animals.” + +“Just so, ma’am. Half-starved and neglected as they are, they roam the +streets just in a condition to turn mad as soon as hot weather comes; +and as this is a sort of luxury that cannot be left to the poor man with +safety to his neighbours, it is only fair, in my opinion, to put some +restraint upon it. I would let the charge of eight shillings a year lie +on all the inferior kinds of dogs but those used in business; and to +make sure, every dog should by law have a collar with his master’s name +upon it, and the place where the duty is paid. If this was done, and the +constables had power to destroy all dogs that have no collars, and that +are not owned after due notice, we should hear little more of deaths +from mad dogs, and the government would find its profit,—and a fair +profit,—from such a plan.” + +“There would be more to pay the duty, you think, as well as fewer to +keep dogs?” + +“No doubt of it, ma’am. Mr. Taplin says the number of dogs accounted for +to the assessors in this country is between three and four hundred +thousand, besides packs of hounds,—which are about seventy. Now it is +pretty sure that, of the many thousands more that the assessors cannot +touch, some good number would pay duty, instead of all being put out of +the way.” + +“There would be a prodigious slaughter of lurchers, I fancy,” said +Fanny, “to the great displeasure of poachers, and of some who make their +dogs do business, though the business may not be accounted for to the +assessor. One cannot go ten yards in this neighbourhood without seeing a +lurcher. I suppose it is that dog’s cunning that makes it so common near +gentlemen’s seats, and in poor men’s service.” + +The thresher turned suddenly to his work again; and the girls arose. +They were all the sooner ready to go for poaching having been mentioned. + +“If you will just tell me where you tied up my dog,” said Sarah, after +duly thanking the thresher. + +“O, just behind there; you can’t miss him. I dare say he is dead and +half-cold by this time.” + +“Dead!” murmured both the girls. The thresher turned round quickly. + +“Why, you bade me tie him up, did not you? What would you have?” + +“He has hanged the dog!” cried Fanny. “O, how could you do so?” + +The thresher was all amazement. He had supposed that the young ladies +were afraid of their own dog after it had been in company with the mad +one, and he had saved them the trouble of hanging it; that was all.—A +kind of trouble he seemed disposed to save the constable, Fanny thought. +Had he drowned any pups, this day?—He could not say but he had,—before +he came to work in the morning.—If the thresher went on at this rate, +drowning pups in the morning, and slaying two dogs at noon, this +district was likely to be pretty safe during his life. Fanny would take +good care, however, to keep her spaniel out of reach of his cruel hands. + +“O, his cruel hands!” repeated Sarah, catching the last words as she +reappeared from behind the barn, whither she and her sister had run to +see if poor Fido had any life left in him. The first glance at the +suspended animal, in an attitude of convulsion, was too much for Sarah. +Anne ran on to cut him down with a sickle she had seized in the barn. +Sarah returned, and threw herself at length on the straw, hiding her +face, and sobbing till even the thresher’s soul was moved. + +Lord love her! how her fright about the mad dog must have shaken her! +There is no mischief that may not be mended, more or less, wise folks +say; and he would get her another greyhound, if she would not take on +so. Nothing easier than to get a pretty pup of a greyhound for her; and +he would christen it Fido, like the last. He would christen it himself: +for all he was known not to be overfond of encouraging dogs. + +“You!” cried Sarah, with flashing eyes. “You bring me a dog! It shall go +straight into the pond if you do.—But it was all my own fault,—for +letting you touch him.—I wish—I wish he had been bitten, and that he had +bitten me again, before I asked you to touch him.—I will never have +another dog as long as I live!” + +“O, yes, you will,” whispered Fanny; “you will take another from the +same hand that gave you this.” + +“O, Miss Cranston,” wept poor Sarah, “he will never give me another; and +I shall have no heart to take it, after having used this in such a way.— +How shall I tell him?—I’m sure I hope he will not come to the Paddock +to-day.” + +“Yes, he will. Let us go and be ready for him.” + +“Did he say he should come? Did he tell you——”—Sarah’s blushing face now +looked infinitely less miserable. + +“You must tell me,—yes, everything,” said Fanny, smiling. “There is +nobody in the field now. Come and take a walk with me.” + +The thresher was furiously at work as they left the barn without +remembering to say another word to him. He swore to himself that the +young gentlemen were welcome to try to please pretty girls, if they +chose. He had had enough of it. There was nothing to be got but abuse +for doing just what they desired. + +Anne was the next person to be discontented. When she had completely +tired herself with attempts to resuscitate Fido, with a vague idea in +her mind that she was doing something generous, she came back to her +companions, with a heavy heart and a faltering tongue, to tell that poor +Fido was irrecoverable. She found Sarah smiling consciously, and looking +the picture of happiness, while Miss Cranston’s arm was round her waist, +and it was plain that neither of them was in any want of her, or in any +distress about Fido. She was about to turn in and scold the thresher, as +the most natural way of letting off her wrath, when Miss Cranston called +her. + +“Come, Anne, we want you. You are Sarah’s only sister. We want your +leave that she may have another.” + +“O, Anne!” said her sister, in sorrowful reproach, when Anne silently +turned her head away to disperse her tears. + +“Indeed, I don’t mean——,”—Anne declared,—“I was only taken by surprise. +We did not know, Miss Cranston, what it was right to expect,—what you +might think——” + +Miss Cranston did not answer for any one but herself. How matters were +to stand with her she did not leave doubtful. If James had taken Sarah +to see the new house, and learn her wishes about its arrangements, she +could not be wrong in taking Sarah thither once more, to hear what had +been planned, and how she might help to advance everybody’s wishes. + +How rapid are the changes of feeling that all are subject to; and how +the most interesting communion of friends may be instantly transformed +into a mere contagion of mirth! An exclamation escaped from all the +three girls, as a hare burst from the dry ditch beside which they were +walking, and made across the field. On passing the barn, she seemed to +be taken possession of by a sudden thought. She turned and sprang in +upon the very heap of straw on which Sarah and her sister had reposed +from their terrors of the chase.—At that moment, two pointers sprang +through the hedge, and followed precisely on her track, while Wallace +appeared in a gap, and James’s voice was heard behind the fence. + +With quivering lips, Sarah entreated that nothing might be said of Fido; +and she was assured in return that James would be too eager about this +hare to remember the greyhound, so that she might keep the topic for +some occasion when she could privately explain the whole to James, and +when she would be better able to bear the subject than at present. James +had no attention to spare for the ladies till he had ascertained why his +dogs fidgetted about the barn in so strange a manner. He seemed to be +peremptory with the thresher as to which way the hare was gone, while +the man looked more sulky than ever. Instead of wasting words upon him, +Wallace made bold to search; and in a minute, the poor animal was +exhibited,—its skull having been fractured with his very handy and +diligent flail, and the carcase pushed in beneath the straw. The poor +thresher seemed likely to have no rest from animadversion this day. One +brother now threatened him with an information for killing the animal +sacred to the qualified, while the other heaped curses upon him for +spoiling the sport. No wonder the thresher pronounced his neighbours +hard to please. He was not even allowed to keep the hare,—“to roast the +game that he had killed.” James wanted it,—of course for Sarah; and then +came a race about the field, he trying to throw the carcase, as if it +had been a tippet, over her shoulders, and she naturally wishing to +escape such an adornment She was happily looking away in a struggle to +escape, when he said— + +“You had better have brought Fido with you. He would have carried your +game home. As it is, you see I shall be obliged to go with you myself. +Now, don’t you think that is very hard?” + +Fanny explained that she was going to carry off Sarah from Fellbrow for +a long ride, instead of letting her go home with her game. James must +now be satisfied why he found the three girls together like sisters; and +it was not long before he was walking between Fanny and Sarah, talking +of his new house. + +“Do you know, Fanny,” said he,——“(hold your tongue Sarah, I told you I +would make them laugh at you;) do you know, Fanny, she would have my +house built after the fashion of a shopkeeper’s house in the city. She +thought of nothing but a room or two on the ground-floor, and others +built over them,—and more piled up till we had got as many as we wanted; +with a window stuck here and there wherever we could not possibly do +without one. That is Sarah’s notion of a house.” + +Sarah declared that she did not wish the house to be anything but what +Mr. Cranston liked. She was only looking for the house being something +like the new ones on the new road. + +“Not knowing the why and because of the case, my dear. Houses run up +like maypoles where ground rents are high: (which is reason enough, +Fanny, why the house-tax should not proceed upon a measurement of square +feet, as some would have it;) and, as for windows, what can be the +reason, do you suppose, that there are not as many in our new houses as +at Fellbrow, where the walls are chequered with lattices? Is it because +Fellbrow is particularly ugly, do you think?” + +Sarah had little to say in praise of the beauty of either the +many-windowed Fellbrow mansion, or the new houses where a window +appeared here and there amidst an expanse of red brick. + +We might all think there was most beauty in a proportion between the +two, Fanny conjectured, if all were at liberty to consult their taste. +But Richard had told her that it was owing to the window-tax that those +architects were the most popular who put the smallest possible number of +windows into their plans for building. Thus, we might arrive in time at +a national preference for dead wall. But Fanny could not bear the idea +of English streets looking like those of Damascus and other eastern +cities, where you may walk for a mile in an avenue of blank edifices. + +James laughed at the notion of such an evasion of taxes as this. The +people of England must become poor indeed, if they denied themselves +light and air to avoid a duty of sixteen shillings and sixpence upon the +lowest,—viz., a house of eight windows,—and of no more than thirty +pounds upon the palace of a hundred windows. The people must, before +this, become as poor as Sarah must suppose him to be, judging from her +anxiety to have his house as dark as she could persuade him to make it. + +Sarah had had no such thought as of his being poor. She only judged from +the way that houses were often built now. It must be very bad for the +poor, (who are seldom disposed to be too cleanly,) to be stinted in air +and light. She wished the days would return when houses might be half +made of glass, like that at Fellbrow. + +“I do not,” said James: “for there was a worse tax then. The window-tax +indeed was laid on to relieve us from that. There was a tax of two +shillings on every hearth, Sarah. Only think of the bore of having a +tax-gatherer come round, insisting upon going into every room, to see +how many hearths there were! It struck somebody that if windows were +made to pay, instead of hearths, the tax-gatherer might walk round the +outside to count them; which was infinitely less disagreeable than his +presence within. At that time, the poor were not very heavily burdened +by it, and now they are not so burdened at all. Houses with no more than +seven windows then paid twopence a window; and now they pay nothing. So, +for once, you may spare your pity for the poor on account of a tax. This +does not touch them.” + +“Then I call it a good tax,” declared Fanny. “Richard shall pay his +share without any murmurs, as he does for his hounds and his horses, if +he means to begin his housekeeping with a good grace. It makes me quite +uncomfortable to think that we pay no more tax upon every pound of soap +or sugar than the poorest of Whitford’s labourers. There is some comfort +in paying for something,—even if it be light and air,—which may come to +them free. I like this window-tax. It seems, too, as if it must be fair +towards those on whom it does fall, if it rises with the number of +windows.” + +“It is not so, however. A tenant who takes a 10_l._ house in A——, an +old-fashioned house in one of those half-deserted streets, may have to +pay for sixteen windows, while a London shopkeeper, in a 70_l._ house, +in a first-rate situation, may have to pay only for ten windows. This is +not fair. I like the tax in so far as it is direct,—a prime virtue in a +tax,—and because it falls on none below the middling classes; but I +cannot call it equal.” + +“Why, no: the London shopkeeper ought to pay more instead of less +(whether his house be modern or old-fashioned) for living in a good +situation. But, to be sure, he does this in his rent, and, I suppose, in +his house-tax. And yet it seems as if the landlord must at last pay both +the house-tax and the window-tax. How is it? It is a great puzzle.” + +“Not at all. When a man is choosing a house, he takes the expense of the +whole into consideration,—the rent, and the house-tax, and the +window-tax. The tenant of the house with many windows in A—— would have +taken a house with fewer windows, if he had not been tempted by the +lowness of the rent; and the London shopkeeper finds himself able to pay +a higher rent for his house than he could have done if it had been more +abundant in windows. Thus, though the tenants may pay the tax into the +collector’s hand, it falls upon the landlords. The one landlord obtains +a lower rent because his windows are many; and the other a higher rent +because his windows are few.” + +“Then, if this tax were to be taken off, it would relieve the landlords, +not the tenants?” + +“When the tenant’s leases had expired. Till then, the tenant would +pocket the amount of the tax; but, the lease expired, the rent would +rise. If the tenant could before afford to pay so much to live in this +particular house, he will pay it again rather than quit a situation +which suits him. But there is one way in which the tenant will gain. He +can have more air and light.” + +“And families who live in their own old houses in the country,—families +who are not rich enough to afford themselves many luxuries,—would find +the relief great. If Fellbrow had been left to fall into ruins because +we were poor, and not because we were wild,—if we had come back to live +cheap,—we should have found the window-tax a great burden, and should be +glad to be rid of it.” + +“Yes: it is not nearly so good a tax as its companion, the house-tax.” + +“I hope, however,” said Sarah, “some other tax that falls upon the poor +will be taken off first. It is a pity that landlords should pay +unequally for their windows; but I think it is far worse that the poor +should pay as much for some things as any landlord. But I suppose these +taxes will make your house worth more than it would be worth without +them.” + +“In general, the value of houses must be raised by these taxes, because +it will not be worth while to build till the ground-rent is high enough +to pay the taxes as well as remunerate the landlord. But much depends +upon situation, you see. The ground-rent of my new house is very low, +because it stands in a situation that nobody cares about but myself; and +the ground-rent of a house in the Strand is very high, because people +bid against one another for the advantage of living in the Strand. If +the taxes were taken off to-morrow, the value of the houses in the +Strand would not be lowered till the Strand began to be deserted for +some other great thoroughfare.” + +“But if the taxes were to be taken off to-morrow, the value of your +house would be lowered.” + +“If I had not secured my bargain with the ground-landlord. If we were +only beginning our negotiation, he would say, ‘You will be at so much +less expense for your house than you calculated upon and can afford; and +you must therefore pay me more for your ground.’ But Sarah knows that my +house is too far advanced for any such speech to be made to me.” + +“Besides that the taxes remain.” + +“For how long? You know what an outcry there is about them in London?” + +“From landlords or tenants?” + +“From tenants chiefly;—from shopkeepers who will pocket the amount of +tax for the time their leases have to run, and will then be just where +they are now.” + +“But they ought not to be indulged, while so many worse burdens are +pressing on a larger and more suffering class. They surely ought not to +be indulged.” + +“Not as to the repeal of the house-tax, which is, if people would but +examine and judge, perhaps the very best tax we have. But then, it wants +to be equalized. The London shopkeepers are right enough in saying that. +But its being unequally laid on is no reason for its being taken off +altogether.” + +“How does it want to be made equal? between houses of a different rank +in London? or between houses of the same rank in London and in the +country?” + +“Chiefly between houses of a different rank, in London and in the +country. It seems to me ridiculous to make such prodigious complaints as +we hear about the enormous amount levied on London in comparison with +the country. London may measure no more miles than there may be seen +lying below my new house; but the property of London is more than our +whole county; and the property on which the tax is levied is the +question; not the space within which it is levied. The number of houses +assessed in London and Middlesex is above 116,000; and in the county of +Rutland 240.” + +“People must pay for the privilege of living in London,—for the +thousands of comforts and conveniences which are to be had there only. +Here, if people want to send letters a few miles, two or three times +a-day, they must dispatch two or three messengers, for want of a +twopenny post. If they want to buy meat, they must go a good way to a +butcher, and take the chance of getting what they want, if it be not +market-day, instead of having an universally-stocked market at hand +every day of the week. If they want to ride any distance, they must hire +horses, for want of omnibuses and stages; and they have none of the +luxuries of fine buildings, inexhaustible libraries, and the best of +pictures, and of music, and of theatrical and other exhibitions at hand. +O, people ought to pay for living in London.” + +“And the most natural way is to pay in rent, and therefore in house-tax +also. In as far as the country improves,—as provincial towns approach +more nearly to the glory of London,—rents and house-tax will rise much +more certainly than by any law that shall attempt to equalize them with +the metropolis. I would not interfere between the shop-owner of +Charing-Cross and the shop-owner of A——. The real grievance lies between +the noblemen of Charing-Cross and of Yorkshire, and the landlord of a +shop in the Strand. While the shop-owner pays a house-duty of 80_l._ +a-year, and the peer in the park no more, and another peer in his +country palace less than half, there is certainly ample room for +complaint.” + +“Without proving that the tax itself is bad. I should think some test of +value, other than the rent they would bring, might be found out for +those country palaces which, with all their splendour and convenience, +might be difficult to let. Very rich men would not mind having the value +of one article of their property ascertained, in order to be taxed, +however disagreeable the inquisition may be to a less wealthy man, whose +credit depends on the amount of his property. The house-tax would become +a property-tax in this way.” + +“It is a property-tax already; and therefore a tax of the best kind; and +therefore to be parted with only when swallowed up in a general +property-tax. Yet I am afraid it will be parted with, on account of the +clamour of people who live near enough to the Treasury to make their +clamour seem very terrible. If the sum which will then be taken off——” + +“How much?” + +“The house and window taxes together are between two and three +millions.” + +“That would go a great way towards relieving the poor of some really bad +taxes, and particularly if great houses were taxed as they should be, so +as to allow of more reduction in a right place.” + +“Besides that the excise,—the really bad taxes, some of which press so +heavily on the poor,—cost such an amazing deal to collect, that the +saving in taking them off would be much more than the amount that comes +into the Treasury.” + +“If the house-tax is taken off,” said Fanny, “I shall persuade Richard +to rebel at not being asked for it, as vehemently as some people in +London threaten to rebel for a contrary reason. I should like to see a +higher tax laid upon Fellbrow. I think we do not pay our share.” + +“You have nothing to do but to give Mr. Taplin a hint to that effect. He +will be very thankful for it.” + +“Why?” + +“He will gain a per centage upon the increase. These surveyors of the +assessed taxes have so much per cent. upon all that they can lay hold +of, which would not have been paid but for their exertions.” + +“That is what makes Mr. Taplin so disliked,” Sarah observed. “He +squeezes every shilling he can get from people who do not know how to +answer him, or resist him.” + +“Let them come to Richard,” cried Fanny. “He knows the law. He will help +them, I am sure.” + +“He cannot,” said James. “There is nothing for it but applying in person +to the Commissioners; and many people do not think the matter is mended +by going to the Commissioners at all.” + +“But Richard might keep Mr. Taplin in awe.” + +“That depends on whether Taplin has most reason to wish to stand well +with Richard or to have his per centage on increases. He will soon be +taxing you for Fido, Sarah. I will answer for it he has Fido down in his +memorandum-book already.” + +Fanny dreaded a burst of grief from Sarah; but she did not know Sarah’s +power of self-command, or appreciate the strength of the motive to keep +back the sad tale till the lovers should be alone. Wallace had sauntered +near them, so as to hear the last sentence, and be struck with a bright +idea in consequence. + +“What do you think I have a good mind to do?” said he to Anne. “It would +be capital fun to send an anonymous letter,—very solemn,—to Taplin, to +bid him look to your sister’s dog, and tell him of half a hundred more +taxable articles that she never had or will have.” + +“O, don’t do it, Mr. Wallace! You will make him so angry, and my father, +too!” + +“And then,” pursued Wallace, “she will have to come before the +Commissioners to tell her story, and——” + +“O, Mr. Wallace, pray do not!” entreated Anne. + +The more alarmed she looked, the more Wallace was amused with the idea +of bringing up, not only Sarah, but half the neighbourhood, before the +Commissioners. He suspected that Taplin’s avarice about his per centages +would carry him a great way in demanding what he had no right to. In +answer to her “Pray do not,” Anne obtained a “Well, well,” which +satisfied her. In all innocence, she allowed him to extract from her +everything she knew about the little concerns of her acquaintance among +the small housekeepers of A——, and the cottages on Whitford’s lands. She +was charmed by Mr. Wallace’s close interest in such trifles, and so +engrossed by it that her father’s voice startled her when he called to +her over the hedge. He was mounted, leading a string of horses which he +was conducting to a fair at some distance. As George was otherwise +engaged, it was necessary for the girls to be at home to keep the books, +he said, and they had been out a very long time. Where was Sarah? + +When Anne looked round, Sarah and her companions were not to be seen. +Till lately, nothing so wonderful had ever happened as that the one +sister should not know where the other was, or should have to go home +alone. Wallace’s gallantry was exhausted. After explaining the +improbability of Anne’s meeting another mad dog this day, he loaded his +piece, and declared he must have a turn through yonder cover before he +showed himself in A, though the hour for business appointed by himself +was already past. He supposed James was there; and he would serve the +purpose at present. If James was gone elsewhere after his amusement, why +the people at A—— must wait a little. + + + CHAPTER VI. + + BATTLES AT NAVARINO. + + +“Who said James was at his living?” asked Fanny of her brother Richard, +as she sat at a window of the Navarino, waiting till he should have +settled his business with the surveyor and the commissioners, and be at +liberty to finish his walk with her. “Who said James was at his house +this morning?” + +“Not I,” said Richard. “I know nothing about him. Where is he?” + +“Riding over the moor with the Lees. You may see them from this window. +Now look? Just turning down towards Bray Fells. He wants to show Mary +Lee that ride under the crags; and they could not have a finer morning.” + +“When did the Lees come? I heard nothing of their being here.” + +“They only arrived yesterday; and they will be off to town again in a +month. They spend Christmas here, that is all. Mary Lee little expected +such weather as this,—little expected any rides so near Christmas, I +should think.” + +“James will take care that she has one every day, I dare say, while the +roads are in their present state. He will make the most of a party of +friends while they are to be had. How long are we to be kept here, I +wonder?” + +“There is no knowing. There is quite a little crowd below, and more are +coming up every minute. If all these people are here on business, like +you, there is no telling when it will be done.” Leaning forward to +whisper, she added, “The Swallows are here, I see. Let me ask the girls +to this window. I want you to see Sarah. I don’t call it seeing her, to +sit in the park, and take a curtsey from her as she passes.” + +Nor did Richard: but he did not wish to be aiding and abetting in +deceiving the poor girl. From this hour James’s head would be full of +Miss Lee—— + +“Of Mary Lee! he never cared for her in London.” + +“Because he was taken up with other things then. At Fellbrow, he fell in +love for want of better amusement——” + +“If I thought that——”—cried Fanny. + +“I do not mean but that he would be as angry as you, if he heard me say +so. He is fully persuaded,—at least he was yesterday,—that he has lost +his heart in that direction,” glancing towards the girls; “but before +Christmas-day, he will find that he has it to lose again.” + +Fanny spoke not another word. She repeated again and again to herself +how glad she was that she had warned Sarah against the infirmity of some +of James’s purposes, though she had believed as fully as Sarah herself +that he was really in love. She had prepared Sarah for his house never +being finished,—for his betaking himself to the turf when he should be +tired of the field,—for his putting a curate into his living, and +carrying Sarah to London, never perhaps to visit A—— again: but that he +would give up Sarah,—that is, that he did not really love her, was a +danger that Fanny herself had not anticipated since she had witnessed +the courtship. Her spirits were sunk fathoms deep in a moment. + +It was Sarah who had said that James was to be at his living this +morning. She could not go with him, because she had to appear before the +commissioners to plead against paying duty for the dog she had lost. She +was now not in the best spirits. The errand hither was not a pleasant +one: her grief for Fido was still fresh; and a strange trouble connected +with him was in her mind. James had not been half so angry, or half so +sorry, as she had expected, when she told him, the day before, of Fido’s +fate. She had dreaded his anger so much that she was not sorry that he +had been detained by his clerical duties all Sunday, and that Monday was +a pouring rain, so that she did not see him. Yet on Tuesday, when she +told him, she was as much surprised at his indifference as he was at her +tears. He could easily get her another dog, he said; and she had been +almost as much offended at the words as when the thresher had said the +same thing. As if another could be the first gift! She was not much +cheered at this moment by what she saw from the window,—the riding party +lightly winning its way over the moor towards the very rocks whose +echoes——O, what had not been confided to those echoes! But he was coming +this afternoon, to consult her about a Christmas feast he was planning +for the poor people in his parish, and then she should hear who these +gentry were, and why he was obliged to ride with them. What a bustle +there was below! + +The Navarino indeed looked something like the rallying point of a host +of hoaxed persons. When the commissioners arrived, they saw at a glance +that to-day they must not dawdle about for a quarter of an hour, hat in +hand, and yawn, and go away again, but prepare for the transaction of +real business. Was there a rebellion against Taplin and his customary +charges? or had an informer been stimulating Taplin to make new charges +which were to be resisted? + +“Let Swallow speak first,” said Richard. “His time is more precious than +mine.” + +“Whose is not?” asked his sister, laughing. + +It ended in every body’s business being dispatched before Richard’s. His +main occupation,—that of observing men and manners,—proceeded, however, +to his satisfaction. + +“Mine is a very extraordinary case, gentlemen,” pleaded Swallow. “The +surveyor fixes the assessment of my premises at 70_l._ Gentlemen, I was +never asked for more than 20_l._ till now.” + +Taplin thought he ought to be very thankful for escaping the larger +payment so long. His ranges of stables,—all his large back premises,—had +been hitherto overlooked, and the house alone charged for. + +The plan of the premises was produced. Swallow insisted that there was +no connexion whatever between the house and the back premises;—merely +that the house-door opened under the gateway. No witnesses could be +heard as to the supposed value of the property compared with the +neighbouring houses, or as to any of the points Swallow wished to +establish. The rent of the entire estate was sworn to, and that the +house was not considered separate from the back premises on any occasion +but when the house-tax was to be levied. Swallow’s case was pronounced a +bad one. He must pay the 70_l._ Swallow was very cross,—declaring that +taxation was enough to ruin any man. No man was more burdened than he. +His very calling was taxed. Who else, he wondered, but horse-dealers, +paid 12_l._ 10_s._ a-year for following their business? + +“Come, come; that won’t do,” said Taplin. “We all know well enough that +it is your customers that pay that tax, and your interest upon your +12_l._ 10_s._ ’Tis a very good tax; and you won’t succeed in making +people discontented with it. If every thirteen thousand pounds of tax +was as pleasantly raised as that, we assessors should hear few +complaints.” + +“Move off, sir, unless you have any other complaint to make,” said one +of the commissioners to Swallow. + +“I have, sir. Here is a charge of a pound for a dog of my daughter’s. +Neither of my daughters has a dog; as they are both here to testify.” + +“A pound charged! A greyhound then. Will these young ladies swear that +they have not been in possession of a greyhound?” + +“That is the point,” declared Taplin. “The young ladies will not deny +that a greyhound, by name Fido——” + +“Never mind the name,” said the commissioner. + +“But he is dead,” murmured Sarah. “I had him only——only——” + +“O, you grant you had one: then you must pay.” + +Swallow muttered that if his daughter had had the impertinence to deny, +or equivocate, or battle the matter with the surveyor, she might have +got off. He now vented his displeasure upon the girls, desiring them to +accept of no more dogs; unless somebody else could be found to pay the +duty: for he could not and would not. + +Yet it was owing to Sarah that he escaped a far heavier and more +expensive vexation. Horse-dealers are bound to deliver in accounts of +the exercise of their trade (as they do not take out licenses) once a +quarter, to the assessor. Partly from his having delivered the book into +George’s keeping, and having a short memory for what was not before his +eyes, and partly from the hurry and bustle consequent on George’s +commitment, and his own narrow escape, Swallow had forgotten all about +this quarterly report. It was Sarah who remembered it, just in time, and +saved the fine. Swallow took occasion, in the midst of his wrath, to ask +the surveyor if he was not grievously disappointed that this fine of +50_l._ remained safe in the horse-dealer’s pocket. The surveyor declared +it was no concern of his. + +Mrs. Barton! the loyal Mrs. Barton! what could she be here for? She +might have been expected to pay the last half of her last cup of tea in +tax, if the king had been graciously pleased to call for it. What could +bring her here? + +A very aggravated distress about windows. She and Miss Biggs could use +no more than one window each to look out of; and when the maid had +appropriated a third, far more remained than were necessary for the +ventilation of Mrs. Barton’s small house. Four windows had for years +been shut up. The surveyor had now taken it into his head to charge for +these windows. He pretended to suppose that these windows might be +opened the day after he had turned his back. Such a dreadful +supposition! that Mrs. Barton would cheat the king! She,—the most +devoted to Church and King—— + +“Please to tell us, ma’am, how these windows are closed up.” + +“Sir, the shutters are put to, and painted black, sir; and then there is +lath and plaster erected within; so that not the minutest particle of +light——not the most piercing eye——O, who could suspect me? But I cannot, +you see, gentlemen, when the commerce of the place has so fallen off, +and such a revolution and transition is going on; and when four windows +are in question——” + +Taplin only knew that he had received information that Mrs. Barton’s +dead windows could let in any convenient portion of light upon occasion. +As for her business failing off, everybody knew that she had fresh +customers for hair-powder——” + +“What is that to us, Taplin?” said the surveyor. “Do keep to business. +It is the least you can do, after bringing all these people about us +to-day.” + +“They brought me; not I them, gentlemen. If they had chosen to pay at +once, there would have been none of this trouble. But her selling more +hair-powder has to do with business. She cannot deny that she has starch +in her house.” + +“I!—Bless me! Starch in my house!” cried Mrs. Barton, looking from side +to side, as if not knowing whether to admit or deny that she had starch +in her house. + +“Remember your oath. You have sworn to speak the truth, remember,” said +Taplin, terrifically. “Your having starch gives me a strong impression +that I shall find alabaster there, one of these days.” + +“We have nothing to do with strong impressions,” declared the +commissioners. “If you have nothing more to say about these windows, +Taplin,—if you cannot overthrow Mrs. Barton’s evidence of their being +completely shut up, we must decide in her favour.” + +“What is all this about starch, and alabaster, and strong impressions?” +asked Fanny of her brother. + +“Those who sell hair-powder (which is made of alabaster and starch) are +prohibited from keeping alabaster in their houses. Taplin chooses to +suppose Mrs. Barton has alabaster, because he is told she has starch. +But that is an excise inquiry, and has nothing to do with the assessed +taxes, as he knows. He only wants to frighten her, and make her give up +about the windows.” + +“They assess Maynard’s white head, however.” + +“Yes, I have had to pay 1_l._ 3_s._ 6_d._ for your serving man’s white +head.” + +“Must I make him leave off powder?” + +“Not unless you wish to send him to his grave. No, government shall have +the advantage of Maynard’s taste in dress as long as the old fellow +lives with us. How Mrs. Barton’s head shakes! How triumphant she looks! +I am afraid she will grow disloyal, after all. The commissioners are +offering her a direct premium on resistance to——” + +“Ah! to what? To Taplin, not to taxation. I am sure it must be a very +bad thing for a government to have such servants as Taplin,—so prying,— +so grasping!” + +“There will be such till people grow as honest about paying their taxes +as their other liabilities.” + +“Stay, ma’am, we have not done with you yet,” said Taplin to Mrs. +Barton. “There is a gentleman below, that I find travels for your +house,—a commercial traveller, ma’am; 1_l._ 10_s._ is the tax, ma’am, +which I hope he brings you orders enough to enable you to pay. I shall +by no means give up the claim for the windows, but refer it to the six +judges: but I conceive you will hardly contest the traveller.” + +“If you mean Mr. Taylor, who brought me a message from cousin Becky that +she wanted some eau de Cologne, I am happy to tell you that gentleman +never rode a mile out of his way for me.” And Mrs. Barton related that +Mr. Taylor and her cousin were engaged, and that Mr. Taylor, being a +commercial traveller, called on Mrs. Barton as he passed through A——, to +give her news of Becky; but she offered to swear that he never took an +order for her, or paid her any money, in his life. Some wag had imposed +upon Taplin. Everybody laughed. Mrs. Barton had better have stopped +here. Emboldened by the success of her eloquence, she went on to +complain of the distresses of the times to commercial people, and of the +favour shown to the agricultural class over that to which she belonged. +She was afraid his Majesty forgot that kings formerly lived upon the +land, and at the expense of those who held it. It was quite an +innovation, their now living upon their trading subjects. Farmers had no +house-tax to pay. There were actually near 137,000 farm-houses in +England and Wales exempt from the house-tax. Farmers’ horses were to pay +no tax, forsooth; and her friend Mr. Whitford had insured his +farm-stock, and been charged nothing for the stamp. If a rich man’s +wealth did but happen to be land, he was not charged the inventory and +legacy duties; and so it was in these degenerate days, that traders, the +most useful set of subjects the king could have—— + +“You say so because you are a trader, and not a farmer, Mrs. Barton,” +observed her friend, Mr. Whitford. “If you had to pay such burdens as I +have, or even such a charge as I am here about now——” + +“Come, let us hear it, Mr. Whitford,” said the Commissioners. + +“Of all unconscionable things, the surveyor wants to charge me for my +market-cart.” + +“Because you use it to ride in, I suppose?” + +“The horse cannot go to market without somebody to drive him; but we +have a gig for our pleasure; and that I pay for.” + +“Your gig for pleasure, and your cart for convenience, I suppose. Does +nobody ever ride in your cart for convenience?” + +Whitford could not deny that if his wife and he wanted to go into A——, +or to the village of M——, they took the opportunity of a lift when the +good wife and her boy were going with mutton, eggs, and butter; but the +cart was a market-cart, and he already paid for a gig. It came out, +however, that the cart was painted so as to look very pretty; and there +was a seat which could be strapped on, to make the vehicle convenient +for more persons than could be wanted to drive it to market.—The +assessment was confirmed. + +Whitford hoped Mrs. Barton perceived that agriculture was not too much +considered. She saw the treatment he met with to-day; and if she was +aware how Taplin was on the watch whenever the farm-horses went to +drink, to find out that they were used for some purpose which might +justify a charge,—if she knew how nearly he prevailed with the +Commissioners last time to tax Whitford for his shepherd’s dog, she +would to think trade particularly aggrieved. + +Taplin declared that Whitford’s horses went to drink oftener than any +horses at the Navarino or the Turk’s Head thought of drinking. It had +become quite a joke, Whitford’s horses going to drink; and the dog was +certainly seen feeding off one of Whitford’s sheep. + +Because the sheep happened to die, Whitford declared. In that case, the +Commissioners had done justice to agriculture. + +“These people are a specimen of how people talk, the wide world over,” +observed Richard to his sister. “You see how they argue upon the vast +interests of vast bodies from the temporary aspect of their own little +affairs. Agriculture is protected or oppressed, according as Whitford +has to pay thirty shillings more or less; and Mrs. Barton’s windows are +to be the test how trade is regarded by King, Lords, and Commons.” + +“I wonder how King, Lords, and Commons are ever to know what to depend +upon, if all interests are urged in this partial way,” observed Fanny. + +“There are always principles to be depended upon in this matter of +taxation, as in everything else; and there can be no other safe guides. +Amidst the inconsistent, the bewildering representations offered, a +certain number must be in accordance with true principles; and it is +these which must be professedly acted upon.” + +“But if foolish representations abound, and wise ones are scarce, what +must Government do then?” + +“The last thing it ought to do is to ground its proceedings on the +ignorance of the people,—to yield them that which they will hereafter +despise the donors for granting them.” + +“The house-tax, for instance, which some people in London are clamouring +to be rid of.” + +“The house-tax, indeed, is an instance. The house-tax is one of the best +taxes that ever was imposed. It is one of the very few which falls only +on the wealthy and substantial—on none below the owners of houses. It is +a direct tax, and might be made an equal one; and is particularly +convenient as to the time and mode of payment, to all who are not such +babies as to prefer having their money taken from them without their +knowing it. This tax is unpopular with a portion of a particular class; +and an immense proportion of the nation knows nothing, and has nothing +to say, about it. This gives a favourable opportunity to the highest +classes, who have not paid their due share, to get rid together of the +question and the odium of not paying their share; and thus the +Government is tempted to silence clamour and please the aristocracy, on +the plea of yielding to the popular wish. But if the Government yields +to this temptation,—if it takes off the best-principled tax we have, and +leaves the worst,—I hope it is preparing itself for that retribution +which, sooner or later, overtakes every government which founds its +measures on popular ignorance.” + +“But what can be done? Is not its unpopularity a sufficient reason for +the abolition of a tax, when some tax is to be abolished?” + +“Its general unpopularity. But, in this instance, the opposition, though +harassing, is partial, and only such as might easily be diverted, by +equalizing the pressure of the tax. If it were now to be thus equalized, +and if any pains whatever were taken to exhibit to the people the +comparative qualities of this duty, and of any one of our worst excise +taxes, the very shopkeepers of London would soon worship the footsteps +of the Chancellor of the Exchequer for preferring to their dictation the +unurged interests of the many.” + +“The taxes that have been in question to-day have none of them fallen on +the poor.” + +“None of the direct taxes do; yet they are so few, that the poorer +classes pay five times as much as the classes above them. Now, mark our +consistency. We admit (because nobody can deny) that an equitable +taxation leaves all parties in the same relative position in which it +found them. We know (or might know) that the poorer classes are made, by +indirect taxation, to pay five times as much as others; and yet, as soon +as there is a tax to take off, we leave the excise untouched, and +relieve the upper classes of the very heaviest which bears particularly +on them, and the very fairest which our long list can exhibit. This +injustice could not be perpetrated if the poor had their rights, either +of enlightenment or of parliamentary representation.” + +“I do wonder that these assessed taxes are so unpopular, even among +those who pay them; for, however disagreeable it may be to have the +tax-gatherer come and take a certain sum, which the owner would like to +keep for some other purpose, the tax-payer is, at least, master of his +own house and his own business. The brewer, and the paper-maker, and the +glass-manufacturer have much more reason to complain, liable as they are +to be watched and persecuted by excisemen, and insulted by anybody who +chooses to inform.” + +“These direct taxes are difficult to evade; and this, which is a real +virtue in a tax, makes it disliked by those who entertain ‘an ignorant +impatience of taxation.’ But it ought to be known that the most +ingenious person that ever evaded the payment of his share of tax would +part with less of his money by manly payment, under a system of direct +taxation, than by paying no more than he could possibly help under an +excise and customs’ system. Mr. Pitt lowered the duty on tea in 1784; +and, to make up for the deficiency to Government, laid on an additional +window-tax. What happened? The same classes who had to pay an additional +window-duty found that they had more money than before to spend on tea. +The consumption of tea increased so marvellously, that the amount of +revenue it brought in was not much less than before; and Government was, +on the whole, a great gainer, and the people not losers. Less was lost +between the people’s pockets and the Treasury. If we could but take a +lesson from this event, and go on diminishing our indirect and +increasing our direct taxation, both Government and people might be +astonished at the apparent creation of wealth to them both. It is +grievous to think of 2,000,000_l._ being levied on our own manufactures, +and 6,000,000_l._ on the raw materials in the country, while only five +millions and a quarter are raised by direct taxation, while the cost of +collection of the one is three times that of the other. If, out of this +five millions and a quarter, the house-tax is yet to be taken, we must +bear to be taunted with ‘the wisdom of our ancestors,’ and be sure that +our posterity will not have much to say in praise of ours.” + +“And yet people talk of absentees being brought home by the doing away +of direct taxes.” + +“The absentees will hardly talk of coming home for any such reason. They +see that there is now a smaller proportion of direct taxation in this +country than in any other in Europe; and they know that out of our +government revenue of between forty and fifty millions, scarcely one +million and a half is raised on expenditure peculiar to the rich, and +that they did not go abroad to escape this very slight burden. If they +did not go abroad to escape it, they will not be brought back by a small +reduction of their small share.” + +“And if they could be brought back, their return is not for a moment to +be set against any advantage given to the lower and more +heavily-burdened classes.—But see! there are some poor people standing +before the Commissioners; some really poor people, Richard.” + +“Who can yet afford some luxury which Mr. Taplin has got scent of, +perhaps.” + +“Do you know, I think some informer has been busy among us. Mr. Taplin +can never have had the wit to find out so suddenly all these +liabilities.” + +“There are informers for profit, and informers for fun, Fanny. I have +seen somebody enjoying the joke as the tax-payers came up to appeal; and +the more cross they look, the more he enjoys the fun. He is a good deal +annoyed, I fancy, at our sitting here so quietly, waiting to let my case +be the last.” + +“Wallace! Do you think he would connect himself with Mr. Taplin?” + +“Anonymous letters would serve the purpose. But I will not forgive him +for wasting the time of these poor people, if they are not liable; and I +cannot think they can be liable.” + +The group consisted of a poor woman and her two sons, the elder of whom +resembled her in his evident dread of being sworn, while the younger +seemed likely to fail in nothing for want of courage. The mother might +safely swear, however, that the mule for which she was to be taxed, if +Mr. Taplin was to have his way, was given by Mr. Whitford to her elder +lad, and that it was too young to be used yet; and when it should be +strong enough, it would not pay its own tax of half a guinea. If she +might be let off now, she would get rid of the beast before night, if +the gentlemen pleased. Any of them should be welcome to the mule, which +was of no use to her, but only cropped its living along the lanes. Mr. +Taplin was made duly ashamed of this charge. + +Perhaps the being upon oath tied the tongue of the elder lad; for he +would not say that he had not carried a gun any day this last season; +that he had not, in any manner, knocked down a hare or a rabbit; that he +had not been seen coursing when Mr. Cranston’s harriers were in the +field. He declared that he was there merely as a spectator; that he had +no dogs; and that he was returning on horseback from an errand on which +he had been sent by his master, and had merely joined the sport because +the horse he rode wished to do so. These excuses were not admitted: he +was requested to pay 3_l._ 13_s._ 6_d._; on hearing which request, he +turned as white as ashes, and looked apprehensively at his mother. It +was clear that they could not raise the money. + +“For God’s sake, Richard, tell me how I may get this poor fellow off,” +said Wallace, coming up to his brother, in much perturbation. + +“Suppose you pay the fine. It is hardly fair that the Government should +not have something out of your pocket to-day, when you have managed to +extract more or less from almost every body else. I do wonder you could +bring yourself to waste the valuable time of these poor people; and pray +observe how their consciences are racked about the oath. I fancy a +little bold swearing would have brought off that good lad. Stop, +Wallace!” as Wallace was darting towards his victim. Wallace returned. +“I am pretty sure the Commissioners are wrong here. You can offer to +refer the case to the six judges, if you think proper: I feel sure they +will give it against the Commissioners.” + +“You must make the offer, Richard; I will take all the trouble, I +faithfully promise you. But you would not have me be thanked by these +people, when they do not know that I brought them into this scrape: you +must speak up for them.” + +Richard did so; and Wallace whispered to them that, happen what might, +they would have nothing to pay. The younger lad swore to all and +everything that was convenient, in order to escape what his brother had +been threatened with. He had not carried a gun. Well, if he had, it was +only to shoot crows. O yes; he had shot at something besides crows,—he +had brought down a paper kite that had stuck in a tree. That which he +brought home in his bag was a weasel, which his master thanked him for +destroying. Thus did he get rid of every question; and he evidently took +credit to himself for his superiority over his brother in cleverness. +Fanny thought it all very bad, and was glad to be convinced that the +fault lay, not in the principle of the taxes in question, but in the +methods of managing their collection. Even now, all this was far less +disagreeable and pernicious than the management of the excise and +customs’ duties; and the remedy would certainly arrive whenever the race +of tax-gatherers should improve, which will be whenever the people shall +learn their duty in respect of paying taxes. When all shall be done +openly, and persons shall subscribe to government as they subscribe to +any other institution, as a condition of sharing the privileges, there +will be an end of secret informations and of perjury. Till then, as it +is clear that there is far less of these grievances and crimes under a +system of direct than indirect taxation, let those who dislike underhand +enmity and false swearing advocate the utmost possible simplification of +the system,—the imposition of few and direct, in place of many and +complicated, taxes. + +It was a sad necessity for Mr. Pritchard of the Turk’s Head to have to +appear in the house of his rival of the Navarino; but it was necessary, +not only to show himself, but to lose his cause. The Expedition +stage-coach had started from the Turk’s Head from the time when +Pritchard was the smartest of young innkeepers till now, when he was +losing his energy and going out of fashion; and, during many a year, had +he, the proprietor, paid the tax upon the two coaches which daily passed +each other on the road. It had now suddenly occurred to Mr. Taplin that +there must be a third coach always ready for use, in case of any +accident happening to the other two. No protestations of the +impossibility of more than two being wanted were of any use. The +existence of the third could not be denied, nor its having been seen on +the road within a month. Pritchard was compelled to pay for three. + +And now was Richard’s turn. He happened to have a seal with a horse’s +head and his initials upon it. Taplin charged him for armorial bearings. +Richard paid for these on his carriages, and he thought this enough. He +stoutly argued his point about crests and coats of arms; and even went +so far as to talk of appealing to the six judges if the commissioners +decided against him. It was in vain. He threw down his 2_l._ 8_s._ at +last, to save further trouble to himself and other people, and sighed +over the seal, with the use of which he should indulge himself no more +while in Mr. Taplin’s neighbourhood. He had nothing to say against the +tax. There could hardly be a better, particularly as it was improving in +productiveness; but he could not submit to use a seal in so expensive a +way. + +“It rather gives one pleasure to see you suffer,” observed Fanny, when +one considers a surcharge on ourselves as a kind of reparation to the +poor for their bearing, as a class, so much more than we do. It is a +comfort to think that Mr. Taplin has not laid a finger on one poor +person to-day, except——” + +“Except the poor fellow whose suffering, if inflicted, would have been +ultimately owing to our game-laws. Those game-duties are fair enough +while our gentry go on preserving their game, and bringing upon their +heads the blood and moral destruction of the hundreds and thousands that +are lost for their indulgence.” + +Fanny observed that she had never thought so much about the old French +nobility as since the gaol at A—— had been tenanted by offenders against +Richard’s game. + +“I cannot bear it,” said Richard. “I must go through with the affair, +now it is begun, I suppose, for the sake of the country gentlemen in the +neighbourhood: but it is the last time poor men shall first be tempted +by me into what they do not consider crime, and then punished in a way +which makes them criminal. I feel already as if I must be answerable for +all the real crime and all the misery which must result from these men +being separated from their families and their employments, and thrown +into the corruption of a prison. I cannot bear it.” + +“What will you do?” + +“Leave off preserving my game; give it up as property; do anything +rather than foster night meetings of poachers, and cause an annual +transformation of some of them into burglars, or lawless wretches of +some proscribed class or another. Ah! I know James and Wallace will be +very angry. But let them go and sport elsewhere, if they must sport. +They shall not have my countenance in spoiling my neighbourhood. When +they have to go a long way to find a bird, and have tried in vain to +start a hare, they may invite themselves somewhere else, and leave me +with my rooks, which I like better than my pheasants, after all.” + +“But is it not rather a pity?” Fanny had some regrets. + +“Certainly it will require some self-denial, even in me, who am careless +about sport: but are we rich people so very sorely exercised in +self-denial that, living in a country where food is the one scarce +thing, we must forbid the half-starved labourer to touch the tempting +flesh and fowl that spring from beneath his feet, as he walks where no +eyes see him?—flesh and fowl which he regards as common property, +because they are by nature wild? Be the labourer right or wrong in his +notion, as long as his want and his notion co-exist, I will surrender to +the weakness of his condition what I am not at all sure that I should +deny to the strength of his arguments. No man shall in my time go to +gaol for offences against the Fellbrow game. Maynard may teach Mrs. +Barton to set springes if he pleases; and Swallow may carry away his +dozen hares in broad day, instead of at night. If George comes out no +worse a boy than he went in, his pretty sisters shall hold him at his +post in the office for me. We must think of some way of keeping Morse’s +heart from breaking. That is the thing most to be dreaded. He cares more +for the pheasants than for poor Alick, I believe.” + +“Those game-duties must be given up, if every gentleman followed your +example. But, to be sure, there are more important things involved in +the question than the game-duties.” + +“Taxes on luxury are excellent things, when that part which is paid in +money is all. But when reputation, innocence, the comfort of some entire +families, and the actual subsistence of others, are the tax paid for one +factitious luxury enjoyed by those who revel in luxuries, the cost is +too great. James says that one of our neighbours will be transported; +that he has evidence of something worse than the mere poaching. For my +part, I conclude that most of those concerned will be either transported +or hanged, sooner or later. Such is the common issue of poaching.” + +“One would think some man-hater had ingeniously planned this method by +which to slide from mere carelessness or frolic into crime. Here is just +the intermediate step between honesty and dishonesty, without which many +an one would never have transgressed. Here is a property which is so +peculiar as not to be considered a property by those who are tempted to +take it. Punish them as for taking property, and they become wilful +thieves, and all is over. But who is the one neighbour James means?” + +“You will be surprised to learn; but it is a secret at present. Now, +shall we walk?” + +“As soon as Mrs. Barton is gone from before the door. I think she will +never have done talking to Maynard.” + +“Not till you go down. She is waiting to speak to you, and you may as +well take it graciously.” + +“O, but I bought some lavender water of her only yesterday.” + +“Never mind! I dare say she has something new to say to you to-day about +Church and King.” + + + CHAPTER VII. + + LOUNGING AND LISTENING. + + +“I never said anything so decidedly to you before, James, but you must +stay,” said Richard to his brother, the clergyman, who was lounging from +window to window of the library. + +“Such a place to keep one shut up in, in the midst of winter!” muttered +James. “It is enough to make one melancholy to look at that black frozen +water under the rocks, and all the trees within sight loaded with snow, +and not a twig stirring to shake off so much as a flake. ’Tis so +desolate when one compares it with London, I declare my spirits won’t +stand it.” + +“One week cannot make much difference. It was all your doing that any +stir was made about these poachers at all, and you must stay a few days +longer to carry the matter through. What difference can one week make?” + +“All the difference in the world. The journey up to town with the Lees +signifies more than any thing I shall meet with when I get there. The +happiness of my whole life may depend on those three days of travelling— +—” + +“How little you know of yourself, James,” said his sister, “if you think +that anything that can happen in three days can make you happy!” + +“You can make me preciously unhappy, I know, if you keep me three days +longer in this miserable place. Why, ’tis a place only fit for a hermit +to live in, in winter.” + +And he glanced at a green stain which was still conspicuous on the +ceiling. It was convenient to overlook the thick new carpet, the roaring +fire, and the ample provision of books, whose arrangement had been just +completed under his own eye. “It is very strange if you cannot transport +a man without my help. I am sure I wish Taplin had gone on thumbing his +Ready Reckoner for many a night to come before I had meddled with him. +It will end in my being full as much punished as he, or any of his +gang.” + +“Thumbing his what?” asked Fanny of Richard. + +“The Ready Reckoner. Taplin has been the head of the poaching gang. It +has been organized by him,—made into a kind of club, sworn to +co-operate. Taplin administered the oath; and his excuse is, that the +men were sworn, not on a Testament, but on the Ready Reckoner. We have +evidence enough to transport Taplin. It was James that obtained it; (you +had better ask him how;) and now he wants to be off to London, at the +critical moment, (you had better ask him why,) and leave me to manage +the matter in which I have never stirred, except in as far as I was +forced by him.” + +“I know the how and the why,” observed Fanny, gravely. “The greatest +wonder of all is to hear him talk of the happiness of his future life, +with such a how and why lying on his conscience.” + +“Now, you just show, at this moment, the folly of meddling in other +people’s affairs, and preaching about other people’s consciences,” said +James, turning round from the window. “I can tell you that Sarah Swallow +is going to be married. I know it for fact; for her intended told me of +it himself. Indeed, he asked me to marry them. What do you think of +this, Fanny?” + +“I think just as I did before. If Sarah proved herself as light-minded +and fickle as yourself,—if she so injured and betrayed the interests of +her sex,—how does that excuse your treachery to——” + +“Now, if you say another word about the sanctity of the church, and the +dignity of the clerical character, and all that, I will never set foot +in my living again to the end of my days.” + +“I was not going to make any appeal to you which I know to be so +useless. The clerical character has no dignity in your keeping; and you +take care that the church shall have no sanctity in the eyes of your +people.” + +“That is not my fault.” + +“I know it. You can no more be a clergyman than you can be a musician or +a sculptor. Your misfortune and that of your people is that you are +called a clergyman.” + +“Ah! I saw two old women dreadfully scandalized, the last time I came +from the hunt. They thought I was over the ears in a pitcher of ale; but +I heard them say, ‘There’s our parson, with not a thread of black on him +but his neck-cloth.‘” + +“The sin of the case lies with the church that makes a point of a black +coat while she tempts in——” + +“Black hearts?” + +“Hearts that must needs come out black from being steeped in the +hypocrisy of a professed sanctity.” + +“I am sure I never professed any sanctity.” + +“Therefore your heart is not of the deepest black of all. But what has +been your only alternative? Leading your people to think that no +sanctity exists.” + +“That is the fault of the system,—not mine. The system made it a matter +of course that I should be a clergyman. Here I am. I must either set my +face at its full length, and play a damned deep part when I talk of +righteousness, and temperance, and——and all that—-” + +“And judgment to come,” said Richard, gravely. + +“Or, if the people see I am thinking of anything but what I am saying, +they can hardly believe that such threats signify much. You should lay +the blame on those that put me into the church.” + +“They would plead that you were put there as a matter of course;—that +you were born to it. They would refer the blame farther back; where, +indeed, it ought to rest. The day must come when faithless parents must +be arraigned by their injured children: and then will your people, among +a countless multitude besides, rise up in judgment against mother-church +for having made an elaborate provision for, not only desecrating the +gospel, but generating infidelity towards both God and man.” + +“That may be all very true; but I cannot help my share of it now.” + +“You can stop the spread of the mischief which has sprung up through +you. Come out of the church. You look more astonished than there is any +occasion for. Remember——” + +“Remember, sister, how it is with other professions. A bad physician +does not give up practice; nor does an ignorant lawyer, because of +incapacity.” + +“Remember that the physician and lawyer who are as well known to be as +unfit for their business as you are for yours, are not employed. In the +profession of the church alone are the incapable sure of their +occupation and its recompense. But no one is more aware than you that +the days are coming when, if the unqualified do not step out of the +church, they will be plucked out; or, if time be promised them to die +out, it will be a chance whether the impatience of the long-betrayed +people will not unroof the sanctuary from over their heads. You well +know this, James. Your duty to your church, then, requires that you +vacate your place: that at least one——” + +“Knave? Hypocrite? Come. Out with it!” + +“At least one unqualified person may give place to a true-hearted one +who may help to restore what has been laid waste. If you owe no duty to +your church, you do to your people; and both the one and the other +require you to vacate.” + +“And Mary Lee forbids. If you had said all this a month ago——” + +“Then Sarah Swallow would have forbidden. Your people must be betrayed +in order to enable you to marry, while, at the same time, you cannot +make up your mind whom to marry. You will persuade yourself, when you +have been married a month, that you have made the wrong choice, after +all. If you would give up your living, and work with your conscience in +some other employment, instead of sporting with it in this, you might +find at last that you had a heart, and that there was some one person +who alone could satisfy it. You might be happy, James, after all.” + +“There is no use in that sort of thing now,” urged James. “Sarah is +disposed of, and Mary Lee——” + +“Disposed of!” said Fanny, fixing her eyes upon him so that his were +immediately turned away. + +“Upon my honour, I had nothing to do with it. It was all their own +doing. It was as much news to me as to anybody when Morse came to ask me +to marry him.” + +“I believe you. I acquit you of providing for the prostitution of one +whose innocent heart you had just gained, and found it convenient to +throw away.” + +“But the winning and casting off led to the rest,” observed Richard. + +“I tell you, she threw herself away. The old man sought her because his +son loved her,—not because I did. But he is a good old fellow; and after +all——” + +“Silence!” cried Fanny. “Go on, if you dare, to say that to be the slave +of an ignorant old man,—the household drudge of a being she despises for +marrying her almost as much as she despises herself for marrying him,— +say, if you dare, that this is a good enough lot for one whom you +yourself taught to feel that she had a mind and a heart, to be free in +action, and devoted in affection——” + +Her eyes rained tears, and her voice trembled so that she could not go +on to say that with which her heart was overfull. James began to ask +himself whether he had not committed a great mistake in deserting one +for whom Fanny seemed to feel so passionate an affection. In the midst +of her agitation, Fanny saw his misapprehension. + +“It is for my sex,—it is for our nature, that I feel it so much,” she +struggled to say. “That no more should be understood of what love is by +those who are acting in the very name of love! That any one should dare +to open only to darken,—to expand only to crush! Anne says, ‘I did say a +great deal, but Sarah is so much cleverer now than I am, that I dare not +say all that was in my mind. She sees how foolish many things are that +we never used to doubt of, and that I do not understand any better now.’ +Nothing can be truer. The whole being of the one sister has been +awakened, in order to be tortured; and the other can no longer console.” + +To carry off some emotion which could not be helped, James began to +jest. He thought it was only fair,—for the purpose of restoring the +sympathy between the sisters,—that he should flirt a little with Anne. + +“Try;” Fanny said; and she spoke no more. + +James next made an attempt upon Richard. + +“I am sure you ought to thank me, Richard. You wanted to have Morse’s +heart kept from breaking, if you should give up preserving your game. +The thing is done, you see, thanks to me.” + +Richard took no notice. + +“I never saw such a brother and sister in my life,” cried James, with a +heavy tread up and down the room. “I believe you do not care for +anything that happens to me.” + +“We do,” said Richard; “but we are bound to care for others too.” + +“And for your future self,” added Fanny. “James, do promise that you +will not seek Mary Lee. I do not know why you should look amazed. You +must know that she would not think of you, if she knew all; and that you +cannot make her life happy, if you could persuade her that you love her +now. Do not crush another heart.” + +James was, of course, quite sure that he loved Miss Lee, and pretty +confident that he could attach her, and absolutely certain that they +should make one another perfectly happy. He should go now, and learn +whether her departure could by no stratagem be deferred till he could +accompany her; if not, he should fly after her the very hour that +sentence should be pronounced on Taplin. + +He returned in two hours, very much out of humour. The Lees were going +the next morning. He should hasten to Brighton, or somewhere, till the +spring; any where (after Fellbrow) except London. He hated London at +this time of year almost as much as in the autumn. He should speak to +Riley about getting so much of the new house ready as should fit it for +the residence of a curate. It might as well go on so far, now it was +begun; but he could not think what had possessed him to begin building +in such a place. + + + CHAPTER VIII. + + CHARACTERISTICS. + + +Sarah seemed quite disposed to allow Morse’s plea that a long courtship +was not so suitable to his years as it might have been to those of his +poor boy. She left him the choice of the day, and called on her sister +to assist her in speeding the necessary preparations. Anne humbly obeyed +all directions. She might wonder,—she was indeed lost in wonder, at all +she heard and saw; but Anne was by this time persuaded that she was very +stupid in comparison with Sarah, and that she had been very wicked in +envying Sarah a happiness which Sarah had parted with so much more +easily,—with so much a better grace than Anne herself could have done. +She was angry with herself, too, for not respecting and liking good Mr. +Morse as she had done. The more love-letters Sarah threw into her lap to +be read, the more presents Mr. Morse brought for Sarah, and the more +carefully he spread them out to be admired, the less did she like him; +and she could not sit quiet, like Sarah, under his jokes and pretty +speeches, while she remembered things that Mr. Cranston had said. She +wished Sarah would not laugh when people said it would be Anne’s turn +next, and when they talked about the new tax-collector,—of his honesty +and civility, and his wish to be comfortably settled;—as if that was any +business of hers. She had seen enough of love and marriage. She was not +very fond of the bustle there always was about the Paddock, and she +should find living there very forlorn when Sarah would be half a mile +off; but she would be content with her lot; and she now knew how to deal +with any Mr. Cranstons that might come in her way. + +When the wedding-party had encountered a good many acquaintances who had +accidentally happened to take their walk, on the bridal morning, past +the gamekeeper’s cottage and towards the church—when they had slipped +past Mrs. Barton at the moment when she was relieving Maynard from the +charge of the spaniel, and had received Mr. Pritchard’s smiling bow, and +heard his promise to drink their healths after dinner, they fell in, at +a cross path, with James himself, who was riding to the church in +company with his curate, to whom he introduced the bridal party. + +“I should have said,” observed James, walking his horse by Anne’s +side,“that—You remember that you were the first I became acquainted +with,—when your sister rode down the lane, and left you with me;—you +remember?” + +“Yes, sir, I remember.” + +“Well, I should have said then that you were likely to be the first to +be seen at the altar. I am sure it must be your own fault that you are +not. I cannot think what you are to do without your sister.” + +Anne was vexed that tears would spring. + +“Ah! It will be sadly lonely. I am quite sorry for you. You shall have a +dog to keep you company. No better company than a dog, when one is +melancholy! You shall have a spaniel as pretty as my sister’s; and I +dare say you will take better care of it than your sister did of hers. I +will bring it myself in a day or two.” + +Anne said she should be busier than ever after her sister’s departure, +and should have no time for dogs or visiters. She showed no regret when +he talked of going away; no pleasure at his doubt whether he might not +be induced to stay. She looked up, as for an explanation, when he sighed +about misunderstanding and precipitation, and the blindness of some +people to their own attractions. How Anne wished, at that moment, that +Sarah had ever happened to look full in the face of her late admirer, +and seen how he could be confused by such silent questioning! + +James put as little sanctity into the service as could be desired by the +strongest foe to hypocrisy, or lamented by his astonished curate. Why +Morse should be so proud as he was of being married by anybody who could +marry him in such a manner as this, was more than a stranger could +comprehend. In the midst, the cry of hounds was heard. The clergyman +stopped a moment, and went on uneasily. Another cry followed, and he +halted again. Morse made bold to step forward and whisper. + +“If there had been no other clergyman here, I don’t know that I should +have offered such a thing as to put our affair off till to-morrow; but +perhaps that gentleman——I think it is a pity, sir, you should lose the +hunt, sir, on our account; that’s all. But you are the best judge, sir.” + +In another minute, James had leaped upon his horse at the church-door, +and his curate had taken his place at the altar,—so discomposed as to +find it difficult to proceed as if nothing had happened. When all was +done, Sarah was still pale with the sense of insult, while her husband +was congratulating himself on his own good-breeding in not standing in +the way of his young master’s pleasure. + +This was the last marriage service attempted by James, except in the +instances of gay friends, who liked to be helped through the ceremony by +one resembling themselves. He was better known, as a clergyman, in the +newspapers than in any other way. Mrs. Barton now and then read a +paragraph to Miss Biggs which showed that “our young clergyman” was +still in existence, and still a clergyman; and Mr. Pritchard’s guests +were on such occasions enlightened as to James’s connexions, and the +family estate, and the tenure of the living in the vicinity. But thus +alone was James heard and spoken of among the neighbours of those who +would have been happy to forget that they had ever seen him. He never +gave his curate any trouble about the living, or cared about Fellbrow +when better sporting was to be had elsewhere. + + THE END. + + London: Printed by WILLIAM CLOWES, Duke-street, Lambeth. + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + ILLUSTRATIONS + + OF + + _TAXATION._ + + --------------------- + + No. II. + + + THE + + TENTH HAYCOCK. + + =A Tale.= + + BY + + HARRIET MARTINEAU. + + + + + --------------------- + + + + + + + LONDON: + CHARLES FOX, 67, PATERNOSTER-ROW. + + --- + + 834. + + + + + LONDON: + Printed by WILLIAM CLOWES, + Duke-street, Lambeth. + + + + + THE + + TENTH HAYCOCK. + + =A Tale.= + + BY + + HARRIET MARTINEAU. + + + --------------------- + + + + + + + LONDON: + CHARLES FOX, 67, PATERNOSTER-ROW. + + --- + + 834. + + CONTENTS. + + CHAP. PAGE + 1. Perambulation 1 + 2. Interlocutory Decrees 14 + 3. Intrusion 31 + 4. Heresy 55 + 5. Extortion 68 + 6. Commutation 88 + 7. Dimission 112 + 8. Benefit of Clergy 136 + + + + + THE TENTH HAYCOCK. + + + --------------------- + + + + + CHAPTER I. + + PERAMBULATION. + + +Widow Lambert liked to be told, a very few years ago, that the Abbey +Farm was as great an ornament to her native district as the abbey itself +could ever have been in the days of its splendour. She recalled the +tales with which she had been struck in her childhood, before her sober +father forbade her climbing old apple-trees, and her strict mother +ordained the adoption of the quaker cap, and the handkerchief she had +worn ever since;—tales of the former grandeur of this religious house, +with its eighty monks and its hundred and ten servants: and it gratified +her maternal pride to be assured that her two comely sons and their +labourers kept the estate in as flourishing a condition as their +predecessors,—the ecclesiastics and their lay brethren who were +subordinate to them. + +This abbey was believed to have held a distinguished rank among the +religious houses which existed before there was any division of land +into parishes, or when a parish meant the same as a diocese does now: +when every man paid his ecclesiastical dues to any church he thought +fit, provided he paid them to some; and when these dues were delivered +into the hands of the bishop, to be divided among the four objects to +which they must be appropriated,—the ease of the bishop, the aid of the +church, the relief of the poor, and the support of the administering +clergyman. Nor was it afterwards in less repute, when the dignitaries of +the church were otherwise amply provided for, and the tithes were +appropriated to three objects instead of four. The monks were of opinion +that a very small sum was sufficient for the maintenance of the +officiating priest; and they were active in gathering in their dues on +the plea of the wants of the poor, while their train of servants was +lengthened, the beauty of their abbey improved, and their fields and +gardens were made to abound in the means of luxurious living. By a +liberal expenditure of their peculiar purchase-money, masses and obits, +and sometimes by a sacrifice of solid gold, they obtained all the +advowsons within their reach, and became patrons of a great many +benefices. It was made worth while to royalty to grant its license for +such appropriation; and the consent of the bishop was regularly granted +in return for the promise that the service of the church should be duly +cared for. The brethren, therefore, were enriched from year to year with +tithe and glebe; while, instead of presenting any clerk, they themselves +contributed as much as they chose to the spiritual aid of the flocks +they had thus gathered into their own ample fold. This process of +appropriation went on very smoothly, (to the brethren, however it might +be to the people under their charge) till this spiritual corporation was +dissolved by Henry VIII; his bluff majesty constituting himself parson +in their stead. There was little wonder that he busied himself about the +Faith when he became at once parson of more than one-third of the +parishes of England. However zealous he might be in his office, it was +too burdensome for any man. The work of appointing vicars to so many +benefices was more than the king could undertake. He sold the +appropriations,—not always to holy men, (for he had himself deprived the +holy of the power of bidding high for the property he had to sell,) but +to laymen who transmitted them to their children, or disposed of them to +other laymen, without any scruple as to thus alienating the pious +contributions of believers to the church. This alienation was made the +more extensive by a statute of the same monarch which ordained that the +church lands purchased by laymen should remain exempt from tithes, as if +they still belonged to the ecclesiastics. In this respect alone did the +Abbey Farm of Mrs. Lambert’s time resemble the abbey domain of the day +of Henry VIII. Instead of the cowled company whose members issued in +state from the splendid building, to mount their sleek steeds to go +forth and counsel the punctual payment of their dues, there was now Sir +William Hood, the impropriator of the parish, marking with quick eye, +from the rectory window, the luxuriance of the abbey fields, and +calculating the loss to himself from their being tithe-free. Instead of +the shaven priest who went down when required to perform some spiritual +service, there was the gowned student muttering Hebrew in the little +vicarage garden, or allowing himself to be talked to by his daughter +Alice, when she tempted him abroad among his people. Instead of +travellers of high and low degree craving hospitality at the portal of +the monastery, there was the staid widow Lambert moving quietly between +the poultry yard and the dairy, while her sons were training their +fruit-trees against the grey unroofed walls which had once echoed back +the prayers of the devout and the jests of the convivial. All these +things were changed; but the neighbouring soil still yielded its +produce, as formerly, unquestioned as to the amount of its tenths. + +Very unlike indeed was any thing that passed in these grounds in monkish +times to the preparation now made by the Lamberts for the reception of +the minister, the churchwardens and the parishioners on occasion of +their annual perambulation of the parish. The widow, more neat, if +possible, than usual, in her plaited cap, silk mittens and muslin +handkerchief, consulted with her son Charles as to the sufficiency of +the beer and buns provided for the host of visiters they were expecting: +while Joseph gave another brush to his broad brim before he went to +station himself at the gate by which the crowd must enter. The +intercourse between the vicar and this family was not very frequent, and +of a somewhat strange character. He could not help admiring Mrs. +Lambert’s kindliness of spirit as much as he marvelled at her thrift; +while she, distinguished above all things for good sense, was no less +astonished at the manner in which he passed his time, and the mode in +which he brought up his little daughter. She was at the same time drawn +towards him by the simplicity of his manners and the evidence which his +whole demeanour bore to his piety. On Sundays, he woke out of a reverie +on his way to the church, when Mrs. Lambert passed him and bowed her +head with a cheerful “Good morning to thee;” and on week days, the young +men, however busy, were always ready to listen to the vicar’s +suggestions in any affair which concerned the interests of their +neighbours. Charles was his favourite of the two, when he had once +learned to distinguish them; for Charles listened without distraction to +what was said. Joseph wished to do the same; but he could not conquer +his confusion when Alice looked likely to laugh at his calling her +father Mark Hellyer. He was apt to twist his sentences, and be thinking +how he should avoid Quaker peculiarities of speech, when Mr. Hellyer +wanted his whole attention; and Charles was therefore pronounced by the +vicar the more promising young man, and the most like his mother. + +Joseph, however, was the first at his post this morning. When, standing +at the gate, he heard the shouts from a distance, and could distinguish +the tips of the white wands carried by the churchwardens, he took one +more survey of his well-brushed suit, smoothed once more his sleek +beaver, and was ready with a broad smile to welcome the crowd. The vicar +was in the midst, smiling as broadly as any one, and as heartily amused +as he had ever been by the choicest Greek epigram. The men and boys +about him were equally diverted by the fulfilment of their prophecy that +the vicar would not know the bounds of the parish any better this year +than any preceding year. All possible pains had been taken, from his +first entrance upon the vicarage, to instruct him in the localities +which he had a direct interest in understanding; but he looked as much +astonished as ever when informed that he must not go along this path, or +through that gate, but must lead the way in traversing this fallow, and +climbing the gap in that hedge. Mr. Peterson, a neighbour, who took a +kind interest in his affairs, was now on one side of him, and Byrne, a +labourer of the Lamberts, on the other; and all the little boys in the +parish were at their heels, watching for his reverence’s mistakes, and +daring each other to offer him cowslips from every field they passed. +While in full progress towards Joseph, Mr. Hellyer was carried off to +the right, to make an unwilling circuit before he could reach his young +friend; and while he was performing this task, Joseph learned something +of the events of the morning;—how there was no difficulty to-day about +their crossing the rectory garden, Sir William Hood not being there to +murmur at the ground lying half in one parish and half in another, and +his lessee not having arrived: how Miss Alice had earnestly wished to be +one of the perambulating party, and had been pacified under the +impossibility only by being permitted to view the ceremony from the +cottage of her nurse,—Byrne’s wife, who had married from the vicarage. +The young lady had amused herself with the annual joke of throwing water +upon the perambulators; and it was thought that her own father had not +escaped a sprinkling. No such greeting had awaited the party as they +passed Miss Fox’s school, where not a window was opened, and nothing +could be seen but the sudden apparition of a dozen curled heads above +the blinds, and their equally sudden disappearance. The poor young +ladies there were kept in better order than Miss Alice. Mr. Parker had +been more surly than ever, this morning, about the churchwardens +crossing his hop ground; though the boys had been sent round by the +lane, and not half a dozen hop poles thrown down. The vicar’s spirit had +been roused, and it was thought he had made Mr. Parker ashamed of +himself. He might take a lesson from old Mrs. Beverley. The gentlemen +were very sorry that her house stood on the boundary, so that they had +to pass through her little hall and out at her back gate; but the poor +old lady made light of the disturbance, and desired her maid to let +every body through that wished to pass, and always had her glass of +gooseberry wine ready for the vicar and the churchwardens, even when (as +was the case this year), she was too feeble to be brought down stairs to +bid them welcome. She had said nothing about having lost one of her +bantams last year. It would not have been known, but that the maid was +observed to look very anxiously after the fowls this morning. The +gentlemen were duly concerned, and had alarmed the maid with promises of +such reparation as she feared would bring her mistress’s anger upon her +for having betrayed the circumstance. The narrator concluded with an +opinion that Mr. Parker might also take a lesson from Charles and Joseph +Lambert, who always threw open their gates cheerfully on these +occasions. + +“My mother hopes thou wilt rest at the farm,” said Joseph to the vicar, +justifying the compliment which he had just received, “and any of thy +friends will be welcome also. My brother is expecting the whole company +at the farm.” + +The whole company poured into the field, appearing fully disposed to +accept the invitation. + +“If thou hast no objection,” he presently added, “I will step to John +Byrne’s for thy daughter, and bring her to our summer house on the hill. +We conceive that the finding the boundary this year, among the new +enclosures, will be amusing; and I could conduct thy daughter and Jane +Byrne to the summer house, while our friends here are refreshing +themselves at the farm. Have I thy permission?” + +“Alice? Yes; it is a pity Alice should not be here. You are very good. I +think it is a pity Alice should not be here.” + +The obliging Joseph only waited to see his guest under his brother’s +charge, and then set off for Byrne’s cottage. He knew how fond the +little girl was of this summer house on the hill, when the dog was +silenced and chained up, and she was at liberty either to gather the +wall-flowers which grew around as profusely as common grass, or to look +abroad over the vast prospect which was spread out below the high hill +from which this building projected. As two fields and an extent of down +had to be traversed before the hill could be climbed, no time was to be +lost; and Joseph made all speed: and though Alice overheated herself +with running, and left Mrs. Byrne to clamber up the ascent as she best +could, she was only just in time to see the crowd leave the Abbey Farm +house. When she had taken courage to rush past the chained dog, and was +at length leaning out of the middle window, she said amidst her panting, + +“What a little way they have to go now! It will be all over presently. I +wish I had come here at first.” + +Joseph pointed out to her that the extent of the landscape had led her +into a mistake. The church, the vicarage, and Mr. Parker’s hop-ground +were as far apart as usual, though from this height they appeared to lie +close together. + +“And all this farm of yours looks like a bit of a garden,” observed +Alice; “and there is the farm house where uncle Jerom lives, and his +little church. They seem to belong to us,—they lie so near.” + +“Dost thou see thy uncle Jerom himself?” asked Joseph. + +Alice looked every where, she thought, and could not see him;—down the +steep white path which descended from the summer house, past the +sheep-fold to the stile, but no one was there but Mrs. Byrne, mounting +step by step;—along the grey abbey wall,—but nothing cast a shadow there +in this fine May sunshine, but a ladder placed against the wall among +the fruit-trees:—into the farm yard,—but if uncle Jerom was one of the +moving group there, she could not distinguish him. Mrs. Lambert, with +her white cap, and the churchwardens with their wands were alone +recognizable. Somebody was stealing about in the churchyard, but so +feebly, that he must be thirty years older than uncle Jerom. She saw, +finally, a black dot or two on the green meadow which stretched far away +to the right; but whether these were horses, cows, or men, she could +defy Joseph to pronounce. She had not looked every where yet. Mrs. Byrne +had by this time entered; but she was too breathless and dizzy to supply +any effective eyesight. Alice must try again, assisted by a broad hint +from Joseph. “O, I see, I see! but who would have thought of looking +there?—in that bare field,—all in confusion with new banks and ditches. +That is uncle Jerom, however; I know by his leaning backwards upon his +stick, with both his hands behind him. What is he standing there for, as +if he was looking for the stars to come out?” + +“I dare say he is waiting for our friends,—perhaps to shake hands with +thee across the boundary. The boundary passes along those new +enclosures, as we shall see presently.” + +“There, Jane,” said Alice to her nurse; “you are the only person, I do +believe, that would not let me go the rounds. I am sure papa would have +let me go, if you had said nothing about it; and there is uncle Jerom +waiting for me now. I will go, after all,” she declared, jumping down +from the chair on which she was lolling. + +Mrs. Byrne believed uncle Jerom would be as much surprised to see his +niece under such circumstances, as to behold the stars come out which +Alice supposed him to be looking for through the sunshine. Joseph +declared that the whole ceremony would be over before Alice could reach +the new enclosures. + +“Thoud’st better stay, and see what thou canst from this place, if I may +advise,” said he. “It is my opinion that they are going to leave our +farm yard now.” + +“There they go! how slowly they seem to move!” cried Alice. “Those boys +with the green boughs are certainly running as fast as they can go; but +they scarcely get on at all. Though you say I must not go, there is Mrs. +Lambert following them, you see. Look, Jane! why should not we be +walking there as well as Mrs. Lambert?—O dear! she is turning back. She +only went to see that the gate was shut,—that those staring calves might +not take it into their heads to go too, I suppose.—No. They had rather +stay with her. Do look how they rest their heads on her shoulders!” + +Mrs. Byrne was now rested; and she came to see what was the reason of +the shout which seemed to be prodigious, however faint it was made by +distance. Joseph believed that there had been some jealousy between this +parish and the next about the tithes being unequal, or something being +wrong about the provision for the clergyman. He did not well understand +the matter, as he paid no tithes, and did not interfere in disputes +which arose out of them: but he hoped all jealousies were to be buried +in these new enclosures, and that this must be what the people were +shouting for. + +“Then, if you do not pay tithes,” said Alice,“But you will have +quantities of hay, I am sure; and you see you have calves. Why do not +you pay like other people?” + +Joseph and Mrs. Byrne answered at the same moment. “My brother and I do +not think it right to pay tithes. The Friends never pay tithes.” + +“No body that rents the Abbey Farm pays tithes.” + +“Well: if you do not pay tithes, I suppose there will be no hay-making +for me to do in your meadows. I am to help to make papa’s haycock in the +rectory field.” + +“Has the vicar any claim upon the rectory field?” + +“Yes; because papa says he is a specially endowed vicar.” + +“Dost thou know what that means?” + +“No: I only know that we have had three dear little chickens from Sir +William Hood’s broods; and papa says we are to make a haycock, and to +have some turnips by and bye, from the glebe.” + +“And he has some glebe land too, has not he?” + +“Yes to be sure: you know our field very well. I have not forgotten what +a race you once gave me there, when you made me run over the young +beans.—How they do shake hands!—papa and uncle Jerom. Uncle Jerom is +going home with papa to tea, I think. He steps over the new bank into +the field, you see. I wish I might gather some wall-flowers to carry +home for them.” + +Mrs. Byrne begged Joseph to be Alice’s guardian, as he knew best how to +silence the dog which would certainly bark, and frighten Alice. He must +be particularly careful not to let her go too near the edge of the +projection on which the summer-house was built, and where the very +finest of the wall-flowers grew. She, meanwhile, would watch from the +window, and call them if any thing more was to be seen.—It was not long +before she gave notice that the boys had thrown their green boughs into +a corner of the churchyard, and that the ceremony seemed to be finished, +as many were dispersing to their homes. As soon, therefore, as Alice had +gathered more wall-flowers than she could conveniently carry, she was +ready to proceed towards the vicarage, provided her companions could +settle whether she was to rest on the way at the Abbey Farm, or at Mrs. +Byrne’s cottage. It was certainly the Lamberts’ turn, as she had been at +her nurse’s already to-day: but Mrs. Byrne had a little cream-cheese in +readiness for the vicarage table, and she must go home with Alice, for +the sake of carrying this cheese and a bunch of radishes for the +gentlemen’s supper, as they were to sup together to-night. So Joseph had +no more to do than to see his charge safe down the hill, before he +hastened home to refresh himself with a draught of the ale that might be +left, and to tell his mother that cream-cheeses were liked at the +vicarage. + + + CHAPTER II. + + INTERLOCUTORY DECREES. + + +Alice did not reach home before she was wanted. She found her father +making tea;—the single domestic accomplishment in which the most +abstracted student is seldom deficient. Mr. Hellyer knew his way to the +tea-caddy, however he might lose himself in any other destination; and +the tea made by him was never to be complained of, however much might be +spilled by the way. His brother seemed to have intuitions equally bright +respecting bread and butter. He could cut up a loaf with as much speed +as he could demolish a bad argument; and the provision of the tea-table +had half disappeared before Alice entered. A look from her uncle towards +the radishes seemed to ask whether it was necessary that they should be +left for supper. The fact was, that uncle Jerom had been on one of his +literary excursions this day;—that is, that he had dined on a crust of +bread which he had put in his pocket in the morning, to be eaten while +looking over some books in the bookseller’s shop at Y, where he had +liberty to go, from time to time, to keep himself on a level with the +age, without buying any thing. Uncle Jerom rarely bought any thing; for +the sufficient reason that he had scarcely any money to spend. When he +had paid the low sum required for his board and lodging in a farm-house, +he had just enough left to purchase a coat every two years, and new +shirts when the old ones would hold together no longer. Hats were +obliged to take their chance; and a poor chance it was, as any one might +see who happened to meet him in the lanes with the brown, +crooked-brimmed covering which hung down almost over his eyes. When his +engagements allowed him to sit down to the common farm-house diet, his +heart was strengthened with solid fat bacon, or bread and milk: but when +he chanced to be elsewhere at meal times, he was sure to repair before +night to his brother, with desponding views of the prospects of the +church, and of the interests of mankind in general.—Thus it was to-day; +and while the vicar gave half his mind to investigating whether the +water boiled, Jerom required of the other half to prove that the spirit +of innovation which was spreading over the land was not threatening to +uproot the very foundations of religion, as incorporated with the church +of England. His spirits were not cheered by the apparition of Alice, +ornamented with the hat he had left in the hall,—the very brownest and +most misshapen of all that he had ever exhibited. + +“Papa, what a pity uncle Jerom’s hat did not lie in the way when you +spilled all that ink, this morning! I am sure it is browner than the +carpet you spoiled.” + +The vicar believed that he and his brother ought both to be thinking +about new hats. It had occurred to him several times lately. + +“Then you must let me have your old one, uncle. You cannot want it any +more when you have a new one; and I want one for a scare-crow, for my +radish bed. I shall never get another so ugly. Let me put it on you. Do +be my scare-crow for a minute?” + +Jerom put the little girl away, bidding her pour out his tea, and occupy +herself with her own. He could not spare the hat. The clergy were fallen +on evil days, and had not need give away any thing till something was +done for them, instead of the little they had being taken away. + +“I have reason to complain of the last,” observed the vicar; “but can +you exactly say that nothing is done for the church? I suppose you mean, +new measures. But this Bounty is something to you, is not it? You were +very eager for it, I remember.” + +“It is Queen Anne that we must thank, if we must thank any body. But +this bounty ought not to be so called. It is a mere restoration of the +property of the church, which had been usurped. It is folly to call it a +gift.” + +“Still, it is something done for the church, to take these first fruits +and tenths from the rich clergy and give them to the poorer. It is +something done for you, Jerom.” + +“My first consideration is the church at large: and in that view, what +is this bounty, after all? Its operation is slow and inconsiderable. Let +it be managed as well as you will, it will be between two and three +centuries before all the livings already certified will exceed 50_l._ a +year. In the meantime, I must come back out of my grave, if I am ever to +have 50_l._ a year from my living.” + +“But it will be a great thing to see you settled in a parsonage house. +It will be but a small one that can be built for 200_l._: but I confess +I am concerned for the dignity of the church; and I agree with you so +far as to desire to see every living with the parsonage house and glebe +land to which it is entitled by common right. I shall look with pleasure +on the building of your little parsonage, and thank Queen Anne.” + +“You will see no such building in my time, brother. What am I to do with +a parsonage, when I have not the means of living in it? As soon as I +heard that the lot had fallen upon me, I requested that the 200_l._ +might be applied in some better way than building me a house that I +could not afford to live in.” + +“Do you mean to exchange it for tithes, or to let it be invested in +lands? I hope, as you have objected to the house, that you will accept +the amount in land.” + +“Why? The rules allow me to exchange the bounty for an equal or greater +amount of tithes, as well as for a different portion of land.” + +“True: but I cannot make up my mind,—I have been long trying to make up +my mind,—as to how far any traffic in tithes is agreeable to the divine +law. I am sure, also, that you will be wise to keep clear of all +unnecessary dealings with so uncertain and vexatious an article as +tithes are now made. This last is only a secondary consideration; but——” + +“I am not sure of that,” replied Jerom. + +“The dignity of the church must be first consulted, Jerom: and I have a +certain repugnance to any thing like speculation in so sacred a property +as tithes. In my opinion, the worst omen for the church is this peculiar +revenue being in the hands of any laymen: and I much question whether +the royal act of allowing lay impropriations be not the cause of the +present adversity of the establishment.” + +Alice looked up from her cup of tea, on hearing that tithe property was +sacred. She asked, with a look of mortification, + +“May not I play with the tithe lamb Mr. Parker sent this morning, papa? +And he sent some eggs, too; and I bade Susan make a custard with them. +Must not we eat any custard?” + +“To be sure, my dear child. Why not?” + +“I thought you said that what was tithe was sacred, papa.” + +“Well, my dear, that does not prevent its being used. Do you forget what +your Latin lesson was about, this morning?” + +“About the bullocks that were offered to Jupiter. People did eat them, +to be sure; and they were sacred. But those people were not Christians.” + +“Which only shows, my dear child, that there are some things which are +inherently sacred,—shown to be so by the light of reason and nature: and +among these are tithes. You will find, hereafter, that the Phenicians +paid tithes. So did the Egyptians and the Hindoos, as well as the Greeks +and Romans: all which seems to prove that these nations must have been +under one common guidance as to this institution. This is confirmed by a +reference to the attributes of some of the heathen deities. Thus Apollo— +—” + +“O, Apollo! The author of light——” + +“Exactly so. Now mark what is conjoined with his being the source of +light. He was emphatically called the ‘tithe-crowned,’ the ‘taker of +tithes,’ and so on.” + +“Then, papa, I will put some of Mrs. Parker’s mint and sage and parsley +upon your head, and then you will be like Apollo.” + +“As the Jews paid tithe in consequence of a divine revelation,” observed +Jerom, “I should be disposed to doubt whether the tithe system arose +from the light of nature.” + +“Whether we so consider it, or conclude that it arose from some +unrecorded revelation made to Adam,” returned the vicar, “my doubts +remain as to whether this kind of property may be made the material of +speculation, like any other kind of property.” + +“But, papa, who took Adam’s tithes? Did he pay them to Eve, or to the +angels? or, perhaps, to himself? Only, there would not be much use in +that. If every body did so, I don’t know what would become of _us_.” + +“I do not speak as from knowledge, child. I only mention what seems to +me the most probable solution.—But, brother, there is further evidence, +from its wide extension, of this being an institution of the highest +origin, whether natural or revealed;—evidence which has not yet been +duly improved. Governments have been supported in a vast majority of +countries, by contributions analogous to our tithes;—contributions from +the produce, not from the rent, of land.” + +“Ancient Egypt, for instance. There the sovereign appropriated the fifth +part, I believe, did not he?” + +“A fifth, I believe: and the same was the case under the Mahomedan +government in Bengal. In China, they take our exact proportion, +one-tenth, which is a remarkable coincidence. Not that they are able to +raise one-tenth——” + +“Any more than ourselves.” + +“Any more than ourselves; which extends the coincidence. In some +provinces, a thirtieth is the utmost that can be levied.” + +“Then I hope the coincidence will extend no further.” + +“Indeed I don’t know,” sighing: “but my proportion becomes less every +year. Those Asiatic governments have a power which we English clergy +have not. They can help to improve the country from which they levy +their tenths, while we can only claim the tithe, without having any +title or power to aid its production. There is no inducement to a vicar, +like myself, to plan a road, for instance, to some new market for +produce, though my tithe might be much increased in value thereby. If I +were a prince, on the other hand, I should do this directly, and profit +by it.” + +“And the land also; which seems to point out that this method of raising +funds is better for a state than for a church, whose ministers can never +have the same power of promoting improvement with those of a +government.” + +“But, papa, does the emperor of China take his fortune in hay or fruit, +like you and Apollo, not in money? I should think it would be very easy +to cheat him: and what a quantity of things he must have to stow away! +And so must a clergyman in a very large parish.” + +“Yes,” replied Jerom; “and that is the reason that tithes are generally +paid in money, in large parishes. The tax would be so in China, too, I +dare say, but that the mandarins like to have the collecting of it.” + +“I think papa had better get a mandarin to collect his for him, if he +finds that people cheat him, and do not pay him so much as they ought. +Papa, I wish you would make me your mandarin I should like to go about +gathering eggs, and apples, and all the things that people pay you.” + +“The mandarins have a different reason for liking to make these +collections. They can cheat as well as the people under them. But yet, +collecting under my own eye, as I do, mine is a hard case;—it is hard +that I cannot get my tenths of the articles which are as much the +property of the church as of the farmer who refuses me my due.” + +“Mrs. Byrne says, however, that her husband’s is a hard case. He has all +the trouble of planting and rearing, she says; and ever so much goes to +those who have had none of the toil and the cost.” + +“Mrs. Byrne shall have a rebuke from me, my child, if she talks so to +you. So long as she has lived in this house, she must have heard me say, +that the whole of what grows out of the ground is no more the property +of the grower, than the parsonage is the property of the brick-layer +that builds it. Mr. Parker’s hops never were all his; and it is quite +wrong in him to murmur about any of them being taken away. He has a +partner. Sir William Hood is his partner; and yet Mr. Parker repines at +every payment, as if he were obliged to give something that belonged to +himself.” + +“I would give something to Sir William Hood to persuade him to leave off +being a partner,” Alice observed: “for it must be very provoking to have +so much trouble about another person’s share of hops.” + +“Our first duty is, child, to maintain the claims of the church; and now +that discontent is spreading, every good minister of the church will +assert his right rather than suit his convenience.—And, besides, I doubt +whether any clergyman or other tithe-holder, has a right to make any +arrangement which would be objected to by those who will come after him. +The property is that of the church, not of the individual; and he must +keep it inviolate, for his successor: not even planning any disposal of +it which the church may not approve a thousand years hence.” + +“That was precisely the argument used by our predecessors,” observed +Jerom, “when they scrupled about paying their first fruits and tenths to +any but the Pope. They feared not only excommunication, but what the +church might say five hundred years afterwards. But we hear little now +of excommunication, and nobody wishes to pay to the Pope. Seeing, +therefore, how little can be known of what is to come after, and that +nothing is at present done for the relief and aid of the church, I +should be disposed to make such agreement as should yield advantage in +our own day, leaving it to Heaven to protect its own gospel in time to +come.” + +“Would you really, then, advise my letting my tithes to Peterson, as he +desires? Is that what you would say?” + +Jerom knew nothing of Peterson’s desire to be the lessee of the vicar’s +tithes. He was thinking now of his own affair,—the application of the +share of Queen Anne’s Bounty which had fallen to him. He had the power +of getting it invested in the land now in course of enclosure in his +parish. An inducement to such an arrangement was added in the wish of +the landlord of the Abbey Farm to give Jerom a slice off his new fields, +in lieu of tithe for the remainder. The Lamberts were taking in these +new fields, and were evidently watching, with some anxiety, what would +be done about the tithe. Being quakers, they would not countenance this +claim of the church; and it was natural that they should be desirous of +the matter being settled in a way which should save the necessity of +resistance hereafter on their part, and aggression on that of the +neighbouring clergyman. The matter remained in Jerom’s choice,—whether +he should seek the consent of the patron and ordinary to his accepting, +for the period of his incumbency, an addition to his allotment in lieu +of tithe on the Lamberts’ new fields, or levy tithe upon his quaker +neighbours. This was the argument which his spirit was revolving when +Alice saw him from the summer-house, and thought he was watching for the +stars to come out, while the sun was yet high. + +The vicar looked full of consternation when he asked his brother whether +he really meant to turn farmer. He knew the present law allowed the +clergy to cultivate their allotments; but, in these evil days, when the +holiness of the profession had suffered in the eyes of the people, no +true church minister would run the risk of offence, by giving his +attention to secular cares. + +Very true, Jerom thought, if the church were duly protected: but, till +its humblest ministers were sufficiently provided for, they must use the +means that God put before them, to obtain bread. The employment of +tilling the ground was a remarkably innocent and a primitive one, and +there was less disgrace to the church in pursuing it, than in appearing +in such a garb——in such—— + +“O, yes, your hat is very shabby indeed, uncle,” observed Alice. “But +you would not object to uncle’s fishing, papa: would you?” + +“Fish, my dear, do not yield tithe of common right, though, in some +places, they are titheable by custom. Where tithed, it is only a +personal tithe, and must be paid to the church where the payer attends +divine service and receives the sacraments; and in your uncle’s parish, +or mine, where there is neither sea nor a river where fish is taken for +profit, there is no such tithe due. We have only ponds near, where fish +are kept for pleasure; and it is agreed, as the law is uncertain on the +point of such preserves of fish, that no claim for tithe shall be +preferred. I have reason to know——” + +“But I did not mean all this, papa. I asked you whether you would object +to uncle Jerom’s fishing. I suppose farming is no worse than fishing, +and some of the Apostles were fishermen.—And you are often busy about +other things besides your preaching, papa, or your books either. +Remember the battle you had with Mr. Byrne, about the turkey, in the +winter. Mrs. Byrne could scarcely help laughing, though you and Mr. +Byrne seemed likely to pull the poor thing to pieces between you. O, +uncle, you should have heard the noise, when papa was talking very loud +about the church, and Mr. Byrne was in a great passion, and the turkey +gobbled as loud as either of them.” + +“Why, brother,” said Jerom, “did not you know that it was decided in the +case of Houghton and Prince, that turkies are to be ranked among the +things that are _feræ natureæ_; and consequently not titheable?” + +“On the other hand, it was affirmed in the case of Carleton and +Brightwell, that it does not appear but that turkies are birds as tame +as hens, or other poultry, and must therefore pay tithes; and this was +in the face of the plea that turkies were not brought from beyond sea +before the time of Queen Elizabeth. My distinction is between their +being sold and spent in the house. However, I am willing to acknowledge +that it would satisfy me well to place this part of my duty in the hands +of a lessee, if I could be thoroughly persuaded that I should not +thereby betray my responsibility and the dignity of the church.” + +Jerom thought that if turkies must be wrestled for, it was more for the +dignity of the church that it should be done by Peterson than by the +vicar. He was by no means bent on farming his own land. He was rather +disposed to let it. If the vicar would also let his tithes, he believed +that both might be easy in conscience as to the guardianship of their +trust. + +“Moreover,” observed the vicar, “it will be in some sort an advantage to +the church that Peterson should have the collecting of its dues in this +parish, inasmuch as, with all my endeavours, I am compelled to forego +many claims which I know to be just; and for another reason which I will +presently relate. As to foregoing my claims,—I am well assured that I do +not recover more than two-thirds of that to which I have a just claim; +and I thus become guilty under the article of the ecclesiastical +constitution which declares that those who, from the fear of man, shall +not demand their whole tithe with effect, shall be liable to pay a fine +to the archdeacon for disobedience.” + +“If that article were put in force, how many of our brethren would be +proved liable! On the average, they are thought to forego forty, and +some say fifty per cent. of their dues.” + +“God knows I have laboured diligently to avoid this sin! No pastor has +brought more actions for an equal amount: and I have written to the +justices so often that they begin, I fear, to be weary of my +informations. But what can I do else for the ease of my conscience? The +distraint and sale of Stratten’s goods last year caused me to lie awake +a whole night from concern for the recusant; and I believe I could not +have gone through with the affair but for the fear of being myself +disobedient to the law of the church.” + +“I saw little Mary Stratten to-day, sitting at the workhouse gate as you +went by,” observed Alice. “She is not nearly so puny now,—since they all +went into the workhouse,—as she was when you brought her in to be warmed +and have a bit of bread that day in the winter. But, papa, Mr. Peterson +will not prevent my making your hay, will he? You know you promised that +I might make up your haycock in the rectory-field: and I told Joseph +Lambert so, this afternoon.” + +“It will be Mr. Peterson’s haycock, my child: but he will allow you to +make sport with the hay-makers, I do not doubt. And this reminds me, +brother, of my other reason for allowing Peterson to become my lessee. I +may thereby avoid all intercourse (unless on purely spiritual matters) +with the person who is about to inhabit the rectory.” + +“Ah! I heard that Sir William had let the rectory to a gentleman for two +or three years; and I hoped he might be a prop to the church in this +neighbourhood.” + +“So far from it, that I must be incessantly vigilant lest he should +poison the streams at which our flocks must drink.” + +“Poison!” exclaimed Alice. “O, papa! is Mr. Mackintosh a bad man?” + +“Go, my dear child, and occupy yourself in something pleasant till we +send for you,” said the vicar. + +“Papa, uncle Jerom has not done eating yet: and you know if you once +send me away, you will forget to send for me again. You always do.” + +The vicar, however, did not choose that his little daughter should have +her mind contaminated by any ideas about infidelity, and uncle Jerom +therefore resolutely pushed from him the last remains of the loaf, and +Alice withdrew, full of curiosity about poisoning, and the dreadful +thing, whatever it was, that was the matter with Mr. Mackintosh. She +chose to employ herself in watering the flower-bed below the parlour +window,—not for the purpose of overhearing, which was out of the +question,—but that her father might, by seeing her, be reminded, in the +midst of his affection for mother-church, that he had a daughter. She +could not give up her privilege of being called ‘dear child,’ the last +thing before she went to bed. She saw that papa and uncle had drawn +their chairs close together, and that they looked very much like people +talking secrets. And so they were. + +“What! absolutely deistical? Well; such an open boast is better than +concealed infidelity. Will have nothing to say to a clergyman? Then we +are saved the trouble of declining his acquaintance. But how came Sir +William to let his house to such a man? Living upon the church, as Sir +William does, he might refrain from setting her interests at defiance by +showing any countenance to such a man. You will begin a course on the +Evidences directly, I suppose.” + +“Immediately; though my custom has been to deliver them in the winter. +But, Jerom;—your hat. It is not becoming that such a hat should be seen +within the precincts of your church; and I would not give occasion of +scandal to this unbeliever. I am afraid, Jerom, that you have no money.” + +Jerom threw down two half-crowns,—the whole of his present wealth. The +vicar shook his head, and drew out of an unlocked drawer his canvas +money-bag. It was not very rich; but he concluded that it should furnish +Jerom and himself with new hats, and that the supply of their further +wants should be left to the evolution of circumstances. + +“And now, about the purchase of them,” said the vicar. “One of us may as +well put the vicarial office upon the other: for it is disagreeable to +buy a hat; and no more awkward to buy two than one.” + +“But our heads are not of the same size,” objected Jerom. “If it were +not for the shabbiness of my own hat, I should propose that we should go +together to the hatter’s, the next time I am called by the new +literature to Y——. As it is, I propose that you should make the +adventure first; and then I will borrow your hat for the occasion, and +follow your example.” + +It was finally settled thus; and that Jerom should accept an allotment +in the new inclosures, to be cultivated by a tenant, while the vicar was +to let his dues, consisting of his endowment of hay, and of his small +tithes, to Peterson; it being kept a secret from his parishioners that +Peterson had anything to do with the tithes but to collect them. The +vicar feared lest the bargain being known should lessen the little +respect there was among the people for the claims of the church. All +this had long been settled, and the brothers were deeply engaged in an +argument upon a point of ecclesiastical history, when Alice tapped at +the window, and asked disconsolately if she might not come in, because +she had left her doll’s right shoe under the parlour table, and she +could find nothing more to do in the garden. Susan said she would drown +the flowers if she went on watering them any longer. And, besides, it +was almost time now for the cream cheese: they had been so long, Susan +said, over their tea.—Leave granted. + + + CHAPTER III. + + INTRUSION. + + +Mr. Mackintosh came and took possession of the rectory at Midsummer. He +was a single gentleman, everybody was surprised to find. Nothing was +heard of either mother or sister who might make his home comfortable; +and why such a handsome gentleman, rich enough, it was supposed, and +certainly not past middle age, should be still single, was more than +could be comprehended by the people of the parish. His housekeeper was +questioned; but the housekeeper knew nothing of the how and the why. She +could only tell that her master was sometimes low-spirited, and apt to +find fault with people; and that he was so fond of his books and of +business that he did not seem to have time for the society of ladies. +She had never heard anything of his being engaged to be married; and, +for her own part, she could not believe that it was so at present; for +her master seemed to be as anxious about matters within his little +domain as if he had nothing to look to beyond. + +It was indeed true that he looked into his business with a keen eye;— +with the keen eye of one who wants occupation, and therefore vehemently +takes up whatever comes before him. He was the owner of the Abbey Farm, +and of another in the neighbourhood,—the Quarry Wood farm,—which was now +out of lease; and there were no bounds to the diligence with which he +walked over both, from day to day, in order to investigate the condition +of every part in every conceivable respect. Both the Lamberts were sure +to tell, every day at their early dinner, that they had met their +landlord in two opposite directions, while their mother had nearly as +often to mention the variety of questions she had been requested to +answer, and the odd kind of chat she had had with friend Mackintosh. He +was incessantly visiting the cottage at Quarry Wood, to know if any one +had called to view the vacant farm; and his housekeeper believed he knew +almost every blade of grass in the rectory garden, and was sorry he did +not rent the glebe as well as the dwelling, as it would have afforded +him something more to do. He was no favourite with the neighbours; for +his manners were haughty and careless. Byrne was the only person known +to take heartily to him: but Byrne seemed on such friendly terms with +him that there must certainly be something kindly in him; for Byrne was +not apt to attach himself easily. He had actually left his work at the +Abbey Farm, several times, in order to serve Mr. Mackintosh. When tried +by the common and best test of kindliness, Mr. Mackintosh, however, was +found wanting. He was not always kind to children; as Alice could +testify. + +She ran in, one day, at her nurse’s, in tears,—in a passion of mingled +anger and woe. She had been watching, this fortnight, for the symptoms +of an intention to cut the grass at the rectory. She had looked through +the garden paling, every day, and had seen the grass growing longer and +longer on the lawn, till the wind waved it as if it had been ripening +corn. Papa had promised for a whole year, that she should make his +haycock; and Susan had given her a hay-rake, just tall enough for her, +on her last birth-day. Mrs. Byrne herself had told her on Tuesday, that +the grass was to be cut this day, if the weather should be fine. Alice +had jumped out of bed an hour before Susan called her, to see how bright +the sun was shining; and now, after all, Mr. Mackintosh would not admit +her to make hay because she was the vicar’s daughter. + +“My dear, that cannot be the reason. There has been no time yet for Mr. +Mackintosh to quarrel with your papa. I dare say he does not like to +have little girls running about his grass plat; though I see no great +harm that you could do him and his grass.” + +“But he said himself that it was because I was the vicar’s daughter; and +that he would have nobody belonging to a clergyman go near him.” + +“Well, that does agree with his saying that he would not let the Quarry +Farm to any religious people; superstitious people, as he calls them.” + +“I don’t think I am very religious. He might as well let me go in and +make hay,” murmured Alice, relapsing into tears. + +“Come and look at my bees,” said Mrs. Byrne. “You should see how they +have got on with the comb since you were here. Since we laid out the bed +for the thyme——Take care, my dear; you will upset the milk. There! there +goes your hat into it! Dear! dear! how came you not to see the milk +pail?” + +While she plunged the straw bonnet in water, to get rid of the milk in +which it had already been dipped, Alice asked how the milk pail happened +to stand there, full in the sun, where the milk would be sure to turn +sour before night. How could she help stumbling over it? + +And she was about to remove it into a better place; but Mrs. Byrne +stopped her. Byrne would be angry if it was moved. She had promised that +it should stand in that place and nowhere else. If Alice’s bonnet should +be quite spoiled, Byrne and Mr. Peterson must settle it between them +which should buy her another, for Mrs. Byrne could not take upon herself +to say which was answerable for the milk standing there. It did seem a +sin and a shame that the milk should be turning sour there, when the +neighbours she usually supplied were doing without. + +“Then why do not you let them have it?” + +“It is tithe milk. As we do not make cheese, Mr. Peterson will have us +set by every tenth milking for your papa’s tithe. There is a dispute +between him and my husband as to which ought to carry the milk. Mr. +Peterson says that my husband is bound to carry it, either to the +vicarage or to the church porch; and I would have taken it myself to the +church porch, to save quarrelling, but my husband stopped me. He is sure +that he has the law on his side in making the tithe-taker send his own +pails for the milk; and so here it stands spoiling. I make the less stir +about it that Mr. Peterson now collects the tithes instead of the vicar +himself.” + +Alice was immediately bent on going to tell Mr. Peterson that he had +better send for the milk; or, perhaps, authorize her to carry it. This +was exactly such an enterprise as suited Alice. She seized every +opportunity of following a swarm of bees, or of driving pigs, or of +helping to push sheep into the water before shearing. She had never +recovered the prohibition to go the bounds of the parish; and had a +secret plan to do it by herself some day, to show that she could. Mrs. +Beverley would let her through her house, she was sure; and Joseph +Lambert was too good-tempered to quarrel with her for climbing his +hedge. Meantime, it would be good entertainment, in a small way, to haul +a full milk-pail half through the parish, without spilling a drop; and +she could sit down in the church porch to grow cool when the task was +done. + +Mrs. Byrne would not allow this; that was the worst of it. Alice grew +cross. Nobody would let her do as she liked this day. She would not now +look at the bees; nor gather herself a nosegay; nor try whether she +could not find green peas enough ripe to make a little dish for her +papa’s supper; nor dust Mrs. Byrne’s prized collection of shells and +birds’ eggs. Nothing would she do but go down again to the rectory +garden, and peep through the palings to watch the mowing, and the +process of tedding the grass, the delicious process which she must not +aid. Mrs. Byrne foresaw that the smell of the hay would be a provocative +to melancholy, and sighed when she found all her blandishments in vain, +and that the wilful girl would have her way. + +She was still looking grave over the kneading of the dumpling for her +husband’s dinner, when Alice came back, seeming much disposed to fly but +for the care she was taking of something in her frock, which was turned +up round her, and made the depôt of something very precious. The +hay-making seemed all forgotten, with every other grief, and Alice was +trembling with pleasure. + +“The milk-pail! the milk-pail, my dear,” cried Mrs. Byrne. “Bless me! +how nearly you were in again, you giddy thing! What can you have got in +your lap? What a lot of eggs! Partridge’s eggs! What a number!” + +“O, they will get cold, if you don’t make haste,” cried Alice. “I came +as quick as ever I could without breaking them. Mr. Byrne says they will +be hatched, if you put them near the fire before they have grown cold.” + +“I did not think he would have ventured to take them from under the hen. +I wonder what Mr. Mackintosh will say if he finds it out,” observed Mrs. +Byrne, bustling about to seek a shallow basket, which, lined with a +flannel petticoat, and placed near the fire, might serve as a warm nest +for the fourteen eggs. + +“The poor hen partridge is dead,” said Alice. “She was sitting on the +eggs when Mr. Byrne cut off her head, poor thing, with his scythe. He +saw me through the pales, and gave me the eggs, and bade me come to you +with them; but before I left, the cock partridge came home; and there he +is walking about, poor fellow, in the middle of the grass, just as if he +was too unhappy to be afraid of any body. But when do you think these +eggs will be hatched?” + +Very soon, if at all, Mrs. Byrne thought. She advised Alice to stay here +and watch, instead of going down to the rectory any more to-day. It was +not likely that more partridges’ eggs would be found; and she had +remembered since Alice left her—(she was sorry she had forgotten it +before)—that she might make hay, after a manner, in this garden, though +she did not pretend that it could compare with the rectory garden. + +“You see, however, that it is very well I went,” said Alice, with a +superior air. “Now I should like to stay and watch the eggs. Papa will +not mind about my going home to dinner, just to-day.” + +Mrs. Byrne forthwith made another dumpling, and Alice stood, growing +hotter every moment, close by the fire, peeping in between the folds of +the flannel, in the incessant expectation of seeing a tiny bird’s head +pop up. Mrs. Byrne soon perceived that she would at this rate totally +exhaust herself before anything could come to pass, and opened up again +her proposition about hay-making in the garden. The grass borders were +somewhat overgrown, and there was a little plat,—a very small one, to be +sure,—behind the cottage, where Mrs. Byrne hung out the linen to dry. +From this plat a good deal of grass might be cut with Byrne’s shears; if +they could be found; and Alice could be called in the first moment that +a bird was hatched. It would be a fine thing to show people that Alice +could make hay in other places besides the rectory garden. + +Alice looked at the borders, and thought it would be a prodigious +condescension. The sight of the rusty shears, however, subdued her +pride; and as soon as Mrs. Byrne’s coarsest blue apron could be tied +over the young lady’s frock, she was down on her knees, clipping and +hacking at the dry grass, and severing as much as a handful in a quarter +of an hour. She actually forgot her new property of eggs till Byrne came +home to dinner, and startled her with his gruff voice, while she was +trying to clip a bunch which was too obstinate for her shears. She +looked up, vexed at being interrupted, but sufficiently exhausted to be +in need of her dinner; and no vexation could withstand the news that +three little partridges were huddling together and tumbling over one +another in the basket. + +No vexation of hers could withstand this news. Byrne’s was too highly +wrought to be conquered so easily. He came home in a most terrible +temper indeed. His wife was aghast when she heard how he abused +Peterson, the church, and even the vicar himself, before Alice. Peterson +had come down to the rectory to demand tithe of the mown grass, which +Mr. Mackintosh had contemptuously refused, on the ground of there being +no claim. Mr. Mackintosh had said that while the church had taken care +that every other party should pay to the church, it had also taken care +of itself, and had decreed that the church should not pay to the church. +The parson might not pay to the vicar, or the vicar to the parson. Much +as he hated the church, therefore, he was now sheltered under its wings; +and not a blade of rectory grass should the vicar touch.—Well; what +answer did Peterson make? Why; it was the most provoking thing in the +world; he had his law-book in his pocket, (as he seemed always to have,) +and he showed that in the case of a vicar being specially endowed, (as +Mr. Hellyer was,) small tithes, and even hay, might be levied upon the +impropriator’s ground, as well as other people’s. Mr. Mackintosh said +some very sound, good things, Byrne thought, when he found he really was +liable. He said he thought it would be no more than fair to leave people +to choose whether they would have a religion or not; and that they might +as well demand from him his meat and drink to maintain Punch in a +puppet-show—— + +Mrs. Byrne stopped her husband by throwing a bit of partridge’s +egg-shell at him to make him look up, just when Alice’s eyes began to +open wide with expectation of what it was that was to be likened to +Punch in a puppet-show. It was grief enough to Mrs. Byrne that her +husband should snatch up Mr. Mackintosh’s revolting sayings about +religion; she would not have this child exposed to the evil under her +roof; and so she had told her husband. He went on muttering, while he +tore his dumpling to pieces, that he did not believe Mr. Mackintosh +would allow the grass to be carried away; and, for his part, he hoped he +would not. It was time somebody was beginning to resist encroachment, or +there was no saying what pass the parish would come to. He had seen, and +so had his father, how the burden of tithes grew and grew; but it was +not till he told the facts to Mr. Mackintosh, and Mr. Mackintosh +explained them, that Byrne knew the reason why the burden must always go +on to increase, unless the church should—— + +Here he was again stopped. His wife wondered whether Mr. Mackintosh +could explain why tithes were only half the amount in the next parish. +If the soil was really equally good in the two parishes, it was very odd +that wheat land should yield twelve shillings per acre of tithe here, +and only six shillings in the next parish. + +“I have known a worse case than that; where fourteen shillings were paid +for an acre on one side a hedge, and five and sixpence for an acre on +the other side, of precisely the same quality of soil. But, bad as it is +to have to depend on parsons’ tempers, and such accidents, it is not so +bad as seeing the tithe go on growing and growing, and knowing that it +will never stop, unless such men as Mr. Mackintosh put a short stop to +it. Ah! you look frightened; but you had better look frightened at the +tithes than at any thing that I say about Mr. Mackintosh. In my father’s +time and mine, I’ll tell you what has happened. Rent is higher, as you +know only too well from every farmer you meet. The rise of tithe helps +rent to rise; and the tithes have trebled while rent has risen +one-fourth. Rent has risen fast enough; but tithes have risen twelve +times as much.” + +Mrs. Byrne thought this must be a mistake; because if matters went on at +this rate, there must come an end of tithe, and tillage, and all. + +“And so there will, if tithe goes on. Tithes are higher than the rent +now, in some spots hereabouts, where hops and other expensive articles +are grown. And the reason why it must be so is so plain, that Mr. +Mackintosh does not believe but that those who made tithe foresaw all +that is coming to pass. The tithe is part of the crop, which cost a vast +deal of toil and expense to raise; and as the toil and expense of +raising a crop increase, the tithe must become a larger and larger share +of the profit. Don’t you see?” + +“To be sure, the more it costs to grow a bushel of corn, the dearer the +corn will be, and the more value there will be in the tenth part. But if +the tithe makes corn and other things dearer, and their being dearer +raises the value of the tithe again, there can be nothing but ruin +before us.” + +“Except to the church, which is to fatten on our starvation, Mr. +Mackintosh says.” + +“But this makes a fine profit for the Lamberts, and those who pay no +tithe, and yet sell their corn as dear as other people.” + +“To be sure it is; for every farmer, in Wales or Scotland, or wherever +else in the kingdom he may be, that holds tithe-free land. Where some +are obliged to sell dear, as the tithe-payers are, those few that could +sell cheaper are sure to follow, as long as there is too little instead +of too much of what they have to sell; and the tithe-free thus profit at +the expense of those who buy bread and hay. However, we should not talk +of the farmers profiting, except as far as they can get their burden of +tithes lightened during their lease. The Lamberts pay a fine rent for +the Abbey Farm, in consideration of its being tithe-free; and if tithes +were to be done away by the time their lease is out, their rent would be +lowered to meet the fall of prices that would take place. So it is their +landlord that gains from their land being tithe-free, except for the +convenience of having no mischief made in their field, and for the price +of corn rising as tithe rises while their lease runs. Their rent will be +raised again, Mr. Mackintosh says, if tithing goes on at the present +rate in the parish.” + +“I always think no people look so like prosperous folks as the +Lamberts.” + +“Ah! the old man was a thrifty one; and ’tis said there are no better +farmers in the county than his sons. Sir William will make no difficulty +of letting them keep the Abbey Farm in the family as long as he and they +have to do with lands, as long as they keep on this side Sticks, as Mr. +Mackintosh says; but I don’t know what he means exactly.” + +“I do,” said Alice; “Styx is the river where dead people get across in a +boat.” + +“Well; do you believe that, now? I would as soon believe what your +father preaches——” + +“O, no, nobody believes about Styx now,” said Alice. “Mr. Mackintosh +only talks as some people used to talk, hundreds of years ago, because +he does not choose to talk as people talk now.” + +Byrne shook his head. His opinion of Mr. Mackintosh was lowered. It was +a pity Mr. Mackintosh did not speak of something that he really +believed, instead of something that had been already disbelieved +hundreds of years ago. + +“How neat Mrs. Lambert looks now! and how quick she always walks!” said +Alice, quitting her dinner. “I will call her in to see my birds and the +eggs.” + +There was no occasion to make haste to call Mrs. Lambert. She was coming +to Byrne’s cottage. She had a smile for Alice, though she was evidently +in haste to say something. + +“I wish, friend,” said she to Byrne, “that thou wouldst make haste down +to the rectory. They want thee there; and thy dinner will keep, I dare +say.” + +“What’s the matter?” cried Byrne, seizing his hat. “Is that scoundrel +Peterson kicking up a row?” + +“I scarcely know,—being a little dull of apprehension, compared with +thee, as to who is the scoundrel when people fall out, and whether there +must be one. However, I can tell thee this;—that there is a great empty +waggon, with five horses in it, at the rectory gate, and Peterson is +making a show of it; and George Mackintosh stands at his garden pales, +trying how provoking he can look, as it seems to me. The people are +gathering, and the quarrel runs high. If thou canst bring either to a +soft answer, thou wilt do a good deed. But, Byrne,” (calling after him,) +“I assure thee they are ready enough with the word scoundrel already. Do +not thou help them.” + +Alice flew after Byrne. Mrs. Byrne thought it necessary to follow Alice; +and Mrs. Lambert had been on her way to Mr. Mackintosh on business, when +the gathering of the crowd made her turn back. She therefore walked down +the road once more, hoping that her landlord would soon be able to +listen to what she had to say. + +All was in uproar at the rectory. The garden gate was laid by itself on +a bank in the road. The heavy waggon was making deep ruts in the grass +plat, which the feet of the five cart-horses had already torn up. The +tithe of grass was being thrown in, amidst the laughter of the +spectators, any one of whom could have carried it home in a well-packed +wheelbarrow. The housekeeper was crying at one window, and her master +was standing at another, with his hand in his bosom, no word on his +tongue, but awful threatenings of the law on his brow. Byrne was +evidently in a fury, though a sign from Mr. Mackintosh positively +forbade his offering any opposition to Peterson and his team. He struck +his toe into the cut turf, as a bull would have struck his horns; and +like a bull, threw up clods into the air. + +Peterson coolly expounded the law, the whole time, though none seemed +disposed to take note of it, unless it was the horses, who certainly +strained their muscles more zealously, and struck their hoofs deeper, +and jingled their harness more emphatically, when he cracked his whip in +the pauses of his lecture. + +“I have spared you some of the trouble I might have given, if I had +enforced my right,” said he. “By common right, the tithe grass may be +made into hay upon the spot, and I might have turned in labourers to +work on the ground for a couple of days. And then, again, I have not +suffered my horses to touch a blade of your grass, Mr. Mackintosh.” + +Somebody observed that he would have had to answer for it in law if he +had permitted his horses so to act. + +“By no means,” replied Peterson. “What does the law say?” (Reading.) +“‘And when he comes with his carts, teams, or other carriages, to carry +away his tithes, he must not suffer his horses or oxen to eat and +depasture the grass growing in the grounds where the tithes arise; much +less the corn there growing or cut. But,’” (with emphasis,) “‘if his +cattle do in their passage, against the will of the driver, here and +there snatch some of the grass, this is excusable.’” + +“Against the will of the driver,” repeated some. “No thanks to you, +Peterson.” + +“It seems to me that making little laws like this is quite fit work for +the pharisees,” thought Mrs. Lambert. “The weighty matters of the law +seem to find no room here, any more than among those that were so busy +with their mint, and anise, and cummin.” + +Peterson proceeded. “‘If any person do stop or let the parson, vicar, +proprietor, owner, or other of their deputies, or farmers, to view, +take, and carry away their tithes as above said; he shall forfeit double +value, with costs; to be recovered in the ecclesiastical court.’ 2 and +3, Edward VI. c. 13. s. 2. ‘And if the owner of the soil, after he has +duly set forth his tithes,—’” + +“I wish the devil had taken me before I set out the tithe, let the law +say what it will,” thought Mr. Mackintosh. “I wish I had bid defiance to +the law and the fellow at the same time.” + +“‘Will stop up the ways,’” proceeded Peterson, “‘and not suffer the +parson to carry away his tithes, or to spread, dry, and stack them upon +the land, this is no good setting forth of his tithes without fraud +within the statutes; but the parson may have an action upon the said +statute, and may recover the treble value; or may have an action upon +the case for such disturbance; or he may, if he will, break open the +gate or fence which hinders him, and carry away his tithes.’ Which is +what I have been and am doing, Mr. Mackintosh.” + +“So I perceive.” + +“Well, sir. What do you say to what I have just read?” + +“That you shall hear in court.” + +“You cannot say that I have not, in the words of my authority, been +‘cautious that he commit no riot, nor break any gate, rails, lock, or +hedges, more than necessarily he must for his passage.’ You cannot say +so, sir.” + +“I have nothing to say to you,” replied Mr. Mackintosh, stepping out +upon his mangled lawn from the window. “Whatever I have to say relates +to your principal and to his church.” + +“Take care how you blame my principal, sir,” said Peterson; concealing, +as desired by the vicar, the fact that these tithes had become his own +property. “My principal, sir, asks no more than his right: and if he is +guilty at all in the eye of the law, it is for requiring much less than +his due.” + +“Well, if your principal chooses to live by such a right, let him. If he +chooses, for the sake of a mere life interest in such an institution, to +pay his rent of servility and dependence to the oligarchy, I wish him +joy of his contentment in his holy office. The church is the patrimony +of the oligarchy,—that is, the emoluments of the church;—and these +emoluments purchase support for the oligarchy. If your principal hopes +for salvation while he is helping his employers to confirm their own +corrupt dominion, for the oppression of the people, he is even a greater +simpleton than I take him to be. And so you may tell him, if you happen +to understand what I say.” + +Everybody present understood that something was said about the vicar and +being a simpleton; and a smile went round. Byrne had no doubt that, so +much being true, all the rest must be very fine; and he was vehement in +his applause. Peterson turned round to him, and declared that he had +some business with him which he would not be long in disclosing. With an +air of defiance, Byrne invited the lessee to come and hear his opinions +on his own premises. Mrs. Byrne trembled for the consequences of the +proposed visit; and earnestly hoped that it would not take place till +the minds of both parties had cooled. She would do her utmost with her +husband to convince him of the uselessness of contending with the law. +If Mr. Mackintosh chose to go into court, that was no reason why a +labouring man should incur such expense and vexation. It would be far +better to pay tithe out of their garden, which was what Peterson was +going to demand, she supposed, than to run any risk by refusal. The +vicar had always paid her wages readily when she was a servant in his +family, and she should be sorry to make any difficulty about paying his +dues, now that it was her husband’s turn to recompense service. + +The throng of gazers and mockers naturally followed the waggon. Byrne +and another labourer began lifting the gate, in order to set it again +upon its hinges; but Mr. Mackintosh desired that it might lie where it +was, till a legal opinion should have been obtained as to whether more +force had been used than the occasion required, and than the law could +justify. Presently, no one was left but the gentleman and Mrs. Lambert, +who was not disposed to leave her business to be propounded on another +occasion, merely because Mr. Mackintosh had lately been in a passion, +and was now out of humour. + +“I thought thou hadst been wiser,” observed Mrs. Lambert, in her plain +way, “than to cause thyself all this mischief. It seems to me a pity to +spoil a pretty place in this manner, without doing any good that I see?” + +“No good! It is doing good to resist paying tithe.” + +“I agree with thee there. We Friends think it not lawful to pay tithes.” + +“No; you let the parson come and seize them. This is a degree better +than paying them; but what good has been done by such a resistance as +that?” + +“I might ask what good has been done by your resistance. Here is your +little lawn spoiled; and ill-will confirmed between the vicar and his +people. It will not affect thee so much as me, perhaps, that there has +been a scandal to religion, too. Ah! I see thee smile; and I am far from +thinking that there is religion in taking tithe: but the man who +preaches religion in this parish has been held up to scorn; and I fear +the contempt may spread to what he preaches. Thou wouldst not object to +this? Well, now, if thou wilt let me say so, I do wonder that one who +talks of liberty as thou dost, should be so unwilling to allow liberty +of judgment to others.” + +Mr. Mackintosh protested that the one thing he was always striving after +was to emancipate people’s judgments from the monstrous superstitions, +the incredible follies which they called faith and religion, and so on. +He was for ever trying to set people’s judgments free. + +“Rather, to make them think like thee, shouldst thou not say? There is a +contempt in thy way of speaking of Christians, and others who differ +from thee, which I should be apt to call oppression, dost thou know? No +person hinders thee from saying what thy own opinions are, and where +other people’s are wrong; and, therefore, what occasion is there for +trying to persuade thy neighbours that their clergyman must be a bad +man, if he be not a fool. I think thee wrong in doing this, and I say so +when opportunity offers, though I have no better an opinion than thou of +his clergyman’s gown, and of all the forms which he mixes up with his +public worship.” + +“Then you must let me declare you wrong.” + +“That such is thy opinion. Certainly. But I wonder thou art easy in +making thyself answerable for mixing up with Martha Lambert’s follies +some things which are of graver importance;—things which, true or false, +make or mar a great deal of happiness, and cannot, therefore, be whiffed +away, like trifles, with a joke. Thou wert free, last Sunday, to go into +the fields instead of the church, and to tell every one that passed why +there should be, as thou thinkest, no church going: but I do not see +that it was more proper for thee to point at thy neighbours of the +church and the meeting, and say that they differed only in going to see +Punch in a wig and Punch in a broad-brim, than it would be in the +Lamberts to say that thou desirest the perdition of mankind because thou +dost not worship as they do.” + +“Whoever told you of that speech of mine should have added what I said +besides;—that the Quakers are the only Christians I respect, on account +of their——” + +“That is all very well in its way: but I do not ask for compliments to +the Friends, but for justice to everybody. I could wish to see thee go +to law, (as thy conscience allows it,) rather than hold up the good +vicar to scorn. Thou wilt allow the suggestion.” + +“Ah! you have not that resource. The Friends do not go to law when they +believe themselves wrongfully tithed.” + +“Their reference is to the divine, not to human law. Their pleas against +tithe are three, which would avail nothing in a court of law;—that the +interference of civil governments with spiritual concerns is +unauthorized and unholy——” + +“True, true.” + +“That the tithe system is a return to the Levitical law, which can have +no place under a profession of Christianity.” + +Mr. Mackintosh smiled his utter contempt of both Judaism and +Christianity. + +“And that religion can never be lawfully made a trade; the rule of the +case being the precept, ‘Freely ye have received; freely give.’ If thou +dost not agree in this last, but thinkest, as the generality do, that +the setting forth of spiritual things deserves hire in the same way as +the teaching of the mathematics, and other things that belong to the +mind, there is the less reason for thy pronouncing that the vicar must +be a bad man or a simpleton for requiring the maintenance that the law +allows him.” + +“It is an infamous practice! The oppression is intolerable. The +injustice is what nobody ought to endure. That we should have the church +of Rome over again at this time of day! Your favourite vicar may be just +such a simpleton of a priest as one might find in the old Popish days, +in country villages: but what a poor wretch to set to teach the people! + +“Suppose, then, we try to mend the law that displeases us both so much. +If the law makes the vicar do and expect what thou thinkest folly, a +wiser law might enable him to conduct himself more wisely in thy eyes. +My sons will be happy to conduct thee to affix thy name to a petition of +the Friends against tithes, which is lying for signature in the next +town.” + +Mr. Mackintosh would have a petition of his own, whenever he signed one +for such a purpose. He would not mix himself up with Christians in any +way. He should petition at once for the overthrow of all superstition in +this country. + +“And, of course, that thou shouldst be appointed judge of what is +superstition, and what is not; for I fear thou art not else likely to be +satisfied. Meantime, I fear thou wilt not let the Quarry Wood farm to +superstitious people.” + +“Not unless I were sure that their superstition did not make them +cheats: as superstition generally does.” + +“Have the Lamberts cheated thee in their management of the Abbey Farm?” + +“No. I had rather let your sons have the Quarry Wood farm than any soft, +sneaking tithe-payer. Every man that is a slave to the church is an +enemy to me.” + +“And all who pay tithes are slaves to the church. I am sorry for thee, +George Mackintosh, for I think, at this rate, no man has ever had so +many enemies. I presume that thou, as a scholar, hast as long a list of +the tithe-payers of all the world from the beginning, as the vicar +himself. He would make one believe that the Friends alone are, as thou +sayst, not slaves to the church, and therefore thy allies.” + +“I offered the Quarry Wood farm at a very low rent, if I could find a +tenant that I approved,” said Mr. Mackintosh. “Your sons shall have it +at that low rent, in consideration of—of——” + +“Of their opinions on one point happening to suit thy own. This is the +principle by which thou wouldst secure perfect liberty of thought and +speech. However, I shall be glad if my sons can come to an agreement +with thee in time to prevent any one from professing himself an infidel +in order to obtain thy farm at a low rent. It is creditable to the +public that thy advertisement to such persons has not already answered +to thy satisfaction.” + +Superstition was too strong and too popular yet for individuals, Mr. M. +replied. Most men had not the courage to put themselves in a position of +defiance, such as he had in this case offered. + +“Thou wilt now withdraw thy advertisement,” urged Mrs. Lambert. “There +is no fear of my sons being taken for any thing but what they are by +those who know them: but I should be sorry they should be obliged to +disclaim in the public papers any character that thou mightst seem to +fix upon them.” + +Not only was this promised, as a matter of course, and an arrangement +made for an interview at the Quarry Wood farm, when all the terms might +be discussed; but Mrs. Lambert obtained permission to call upon the +crying housekeeper, and the gaping foot-boy, for aid towards securing +the pretty garden from the intrusion of pigs and other trespassers. +Before sunset, the gate swung once more on its hinges; and the grass was +rolled and rolled again till half its disasters were repaired. It was as +much a labour of love as teaching in a school, or cooking broth for a +sick neighbour; and when Mrs. Lambert found she must go home, the +foot-boy ran before her to open the gate; the housekeeper blessed her; +and even Mr. M. sent a message after her to beg that she would not go +till she had rested herself. + + + CHAPTER IV. + + HERESY. + + +Peterson was not long in performing his promise or threat of visiting +B.’s cottage. Indeed, he had so much to do now that it was necessary to +fulfil his engagements as they arose, if he meant to discharge them all. +He was not only the lessee of the vicar’s tithes, which cost him no +small trouble to gather in. He was also the collector of Sir William +Hood’s; and the time approached for making the usual valuation of the +crops before harvest. Some of the land was, as has been said, +tithe-free. A small portion besides, which seemed to lie within the +verge of the parish, caused him no trouble. It had never been included, +with certainty, within the bounds of any parish; and the tithe thereof, +being extraparochial, was the prerogative of the king, with whom +Peterson had nothing to do. A composition had been agreed upon for the +tithes of other lands, for a certain number of years; but there still +remained a large extent of ground on which the great tithes had either +to be compounded for on a valuation, from year to year, or where the +contribution to the parson was to be levied in kind. His own property by +lease, the small tithes and hay which he rented from the vicar, he +determined to levy in kind: and his first step was to study the precise +extent to which they were due, and to levy them to the utmost. Of the +prædial tithes,—those which arise merely and immediately from the +ground, the grain and wood had to be valued in order to a composition. +The hay, being the vicar’s by special endowment, had to be levied in +kind with the other prædial tithes which came under the denomination of +small tithes; viz.: fruit, vegetables, and herbs. He had not only been +the round of the hayfields, but was looking into all the gardens, and +casting a calculating glance over the orchards, in anticipation of a +tenth of their produce. Then the mixed tithes gave him much trouble; +tithes of produce which arises not immediately from the ground, but from +things immediately nourished by the ground, and which, according to the +murmuring parishioners, paid tithe twice or three times over. When they +had paid tithe of grass, they contended, it was hard to have it to pay +again in the shape of a calf, and again in that of milk. In like manner, +the grain on which their poultry fed paid tithe; and then the poultry; +and also eggs. In like manner, the sheep pasture paid tithe; and then +the tenth lamb must be given; and lastly, the wool. Endless disputes +arose out of the lessee’s claims, and he was perpetually sent to his +tithe gospel, as he called his law-book. There he found a provision by +which he might annoy Byrne, and every parishioner in Byrne’s rank of +life. There was another kind of tithe, besides the prædial and the +mixed;—the personal tithe, which might be made, if possible, more +offensive than the mixed. He knew that by a claim for this kind of +tithe, at least, he could punish Byrne for his partisanship with Mr. +Mackintosh in the morning. + +When he arrived at Byrne’s, both the labourer and his wife were occupied +in helping Alice to feed her little birds, the twelve young partridges +which bore testimony to the efficacy of flannel and fire in June. Byrne +did not trouble himself to look up when his foe entered; but observed, +while guiding an infant beak to the mess which was prepared, that +Peterson need not flatter himself that he would be permitted to carry +away any of Miss Alice’s birds. The little girl’s own father should not +rob her of her pleasures. Peterson thought it a pity such a defiance +should be wasted; but he really never thought of such a thing as tithing +wild birds. Pheasants and partridges are decided by law to be _feræ +naturæ_, and therefore not titheable. Though their wings be clipped, +they would still fly away if they could; and if they should breed, their +young, though imprisoned, are still wild, and therefore not bound to +support the clergyman. Alice’s pleasures were safe. + +“O, I am so glad!” cried Alice; “and now we need not be afraid about the +bees either, I suppose.” + +“Ay; your bees, Mrs. Byrne,” observed Peterson, smiling. “You need not +twitch the young lady’s sleeve, Byrne; I thought of the bees before; +and, in fact, they made part of my errand. I see you have a fine range +of beehives at the south end of your garden; and that spreading +jessamine, and the thyme bed, and the tall honeysuckle must yield plenty +of wax and honey. You must keep my share for me, remember.” + +“If partridges are wild, so are bees, I should think, Mr. Peterson.” + +“So the law says: and I am of opinion the law is therein defective: +since, though bees can fly away individually, they are stationary, as a +swarm, when once fixed in a hive. I should recommend that every tenth +swarm should be set apart for tithe: but the law does not so ordain. The +wax and honey, however, do not fly away, and it is of them that I spoke +when I said you must remember the vicar’s share.” + +“The vicar would have been sure enough of his share,” said Mrs. Byrne, +somewhat heated, “if you had let me alone to offer it. Miss Alice will +tell you that every year she has had much more than a tenth of my honey; +and so she would still, without your interfering to make that a debt +which was much more precious as a grace.” + +“Mr. Peterson shall not bring me my honey,” protested Alice. “I won’t +take it, unless you let me carry it home myself, Jane.” + +Peterson wondered what would become of religion, if it was to be left to +be supported by free will, instead of by dues. + +How little was he aware what was included in this question! How little +was he aware with whom he identified himself while asking it! This has +been the faithless question of all the perverters of the quenchless +religious principle in man, from the beginning of time,—of all the +priests of all the trinities that the world has known. This is the +question asked by the wise man of the Egyptian temple, when he unveiled +the hawk-headed Osiris, and the swaddled Orus, and the crocodile-shaped +Typhon, and told the prostrate people what to pay for housing the triad +of creators that they came to adore.—This is the question asked by the +ancient Hindoo priest, when he finished his evening meal of rice in the +echoing recesses of the rocky temple, and waited only for the departure +of the last impoverished worshipper, to go and see how much wealth was +deposited for Brahma, and how much for Vishnu, and how much for Siva, +and how many bribes were offered for admission into each of the seven +paradises of the seven seas. This is the question asked before the Greek +altars, when goats and horses and black bulls were sacrificed there, to +the gods of the earth, and the sea, and the infernal regions, and tithe +was demanded to be yielded to the one on his ivory seat, and another in +his car of sea-shell, and the third on his throne of sulphur. This is +the question asked by the skin-clothed ministers of the Gothic deities, +Odin, Vile, and Ve, when they called upon their barbarian brethren to +offer the hides of wolves, and the flesh of boars, in homage to the +three sons of the mysterious cow. This is the question asked by the +Mexican priests of old, when they forbade the feathered and jewelled +warrior companies to come empty-handed to the sanctuary of the +father-sun, the brother-sun, and the son-sun; the trinity of +unpronounceable names. This is the question asked by the monastic orders +of the Catholic church, when they ordained, as penance, that the +children’s inheritance should be made over to the church, to the glory +of the Gnostic triad which they enthroned on the Seven Hills, and to +which they dared to invite adoration in the name of Christ. This is the +question now asked by our Episcopal preachers of the three-fold deity, +the Avenger, the Propitiator, and the Sanctifier; and enforced for the +support of their tri-partite form of religion, compounded of Heathenism, +Judaism, and Christianity.—This is not the question asked by Jesus, when +he sent forth the Seventy, bidding them have faith that they should be +supported by free-will offerings better than by dues; or when he +cleansed the temple from the defilements which but too soon returned to +harbour there; or when he sat on the well in Samaria, and declared who +it was that the Father sought to worship him; or when he strayed in the +wilderness, despising the kingdoms of the world, and the glory of them, +and asking instead, the heart of man; or when he sat on the +mountain-side, gazing on the temple towers which were bathed in the +evening light, and telling of the time when the young pigeons should try +their first flight from the summit of Moriah, instead of fluttering in +death on the altar of sacrifice; and when the husbandman should plough +up the foundations of the sanctuary, finding, through the gospel, that +his own heart was a holier place.—What is included in this question,— +whether religion can be supported by free will, and not by dues? To ask +it is to doubt whether God has vivified the human heart with a principle +of faith, and whether man be not really made to grovel with the beasts +which perish, or, as the only alternative, to pursue shadows till the +grave swallows him up like a pitfall in his path. It is to suppose that +by mere accident alone has the northern barbarian been found watching +for signs in the driving clouds; and the western Indian looking abroad +over the blue Pacific; and the Persian hailing the sunrise from the +mountain-top; and the Greek lawgiver waiting upon the voice of the +oracle; and the Christian child praying at the knee of its parent. It is +to question whether there be more in a sunrise than yellow light, or in +a pestilence than so many dead, or in a political revolution than a +change of actors in an isolated dramatic scene, or in the advent of a +gospel than the issuing of a new and fugitive fiction. It is to deny +that every man needs sympathy in his joys, and consolation for his +sorrows; that he ever questions whence he came and whither he must go; +that he ever feels the weight of his own being too vast to be sustained +without reposing on Him who called it forth. It is to question whether +there be faith on the earth, except within the pale of two or three +churches; whether, for the rest of the world, the sea does not raise its +everlasting voice, and the starry host hold on their untiring march in +vain. It is to question whether the decrepid can truly worship in the +aisles of our churches; or the lordly care for the things of the Spirit, +unless those things are joined with worldly pomp. It is to pronounce the +apostles profane in their fishing and tent-making, and foolish in their +fully-justified reliance on the faith and charity of their disciples. It +is to declare Jesus wrong in saying that to the poor the gospel is +preached, and that his kingdom was not of the old world,—belonging to +the formal Judaical dispensation. It is to put his gospel for correction +into the hands of the prelates who legislate for its security, and who +predict its permanence, if it be sustained by the means they prescribe,— +by gifts and offerings wrung from the reluctant; by endowments, by +bounties of first-fruits and tenths, by tithes and oblations. To +question whether religion can be supported by free-will instead of by +prescribed dues is to libel man, to doubt the gospel, and to stand with +a sceptical spirit amidst the temple of God’s works. + +Would that the vicar had had sufficient faith in the gospel he preached +to believe that it might be supported without exactions which it does +not sanction! Would that he had been wiser than his tithe-gatherer, and +had foreseen the consequences, as well as been aware of the guilt, of +alienating the spirits which it was his express office to win! He looked +very grave at his little daughter, when she loudly complained that +Peterson wanted to take away some of Jane’s honey for him, when she knew +he had much rather that Jane should give it him herself. He told her +that she must not speak of matters that she did not understand:—a rebuke +which astonished Alice more than all the rest, as she thought she had +never heard of anything more easy to be understood. + +There was little show of respect to the vicar, this evening. When he +entered Byrne’s cottage, Peterson was traversing the garden, making +notes of potatoes, turnips, and cabbages, of onions, parsley, and sage. +He counted the currant bushes, and looked up into the cherry-tree. Mrs. +Byrne attended, in terror lest there should be a quarrel. She tried to +persuade her husband to go and make his bow to the vicar; but Byrne +would do no such thing. He dogged the tithe-gatherer’s heels, disputing +where he could, and threatening where he could not dispute. He did not +mean to pay tithe these seven years, for the new bit of garden which he +had just taken in. He would contest it to the death. He hoped the +turnips would prove tough enough to choke the tithe-gatherer. He would +not gather his cherries at all, if he must pay tithe of them. They +should be left for the birds, and for any village children who might +come to take them. + +“That is all very fine talk,” replied Peterson: “but I can tell you +this. If your fruit is taken by the birds, or other downright thieves, I +must bear the loss with you: but if it be taken with your knowledge and +consent, whether by school-children or anybody else, you must pay me the +tithe of what was taken: and if left to drop from the tree, I must have +the tenth of what so falls. Pray, are these peas and beans for sale, or +for domestic use?” + +Byrne could not tell till they were gathered; and his wife did not +pretend to have made up her mind, any more than he. + +“Well; if you won’t tell me, I must be on the watch to see whether your +hog touches any of them, and how many find their way to other people’s +tables. And then, you will have no right to call me prying, remember. I +asked you the fair question, which you would not answer.” + +Byrne thought he might as well live under Bonaparte, or any other +tyrant, at once, as be liable to sow and tend and reap for another, in +this way; and to be watched by a spy, as if this was not the free +country it prided itself on being. + +“What would you say if you were a farmer?” cried Peterson, with a smile. +“Here you have only to pay a little honey, and a few vegetables, and a +little fruit, and—one thing more, for which I find the vicar has +strangely omitted to charge you hitherto. See here,” producing his +law-book. “By a constitution of Archbishop Winchelsea, and the statute, +2 and 3 Edward VI., c. 13., tithes are payable for profits arising from +personal labour or merchandise. They are payable, you see, where the +party hears divine service, and receives the sacraments; but only the +tenth part of the clear gain, after all the charges are deducted. Now I +find your wages are per week——” + +“Do you dare to want to strip my husband of his wages?” cried Mrs. +Byrne. “I will call the vicar to put an end to this.” + +Peterson’s triumph was complete. The vicar was full of concern that +anybody suffered pain or inconvenience about the matter: but it was not +for him or his parishioners to alter the constitution of the church. His +duty to his church and to his successor required that the ecclesiastical +law should be obeyed in all its provisions. Two or three zealous +clergymen had lately revived this claim, after it had lain dormant for +very many years, throwing into gaol the labourers who opposed +themselves; and he would support them through evil report and good +report. + +“Then you may throw me into gaol,” cried Byrne. “As for attending your +services, neither I nor mine will ever do it more, Mr. Hellyer: and I +never wish to see you within my gate again, sir.” + +“O, John!” cried the terrified wife. + +“I am not going to be angry,” said the vicar to her, with his usual air +of quiet complacency. “I have long feared that the infidel who has come +among us would corrupt your husband, and I see he has done so +completely. Nay: do not cry so, Jane. All our hearts are in the hand of +God: and you should trust, as I do, that he will sustain his church +under the attacks of the unbelieving.” + +“Not if such as you have the management of it,” cried Byrne. “You talk +of Mr. Mackintosh: but I tell you that nothing that I ever heard him say +turned my heart from you and your religion as you yourself have done +to-day; and I rather think that Mr. Mackintosh owes to you much of such +power as he has. We shall soon see that. Send the labourers of this +parish to gaol for their tithe of wages, break gates, and pry into +gardens, and you will see what a congregation Mr. Mackintosh will have +on his lawn, to hear what he has to say about a religion that teaches +such oppression.—Be pleased to hold your tongue, sir, and walk out of my +garden.—Hush, Jane!” he cried to his weeping wife. “There is nothing in +their tithe-law that prevents my saying that.—Go, go, and milk the cow.” +And he turned over the pail, which still stood with milk in it, as in +the morning. He declared that he knew something of tithe-law as well as +Peterson, and therefore claimed the liberty of spilling the milk which +had not been removed, after due notice, so as to restore the pail in +time for the afternoon milking. Peterson could not deny the correctness +of Byrne’s law. + +“Well; but, why not come to church?” mildly inquired the vicar. + +“To hear you thank God that you are no extortioner, I suppose. I am sick +enough of that.” + +“But, John,—do listen, John!—He can’t help it: it is no fault of his: he +only asks what the law gives him.” + +“Then let the law leave off making a man contradict in the pulpit on +Sunday all he has been doing during the week. ’Tis a hypocrisy that I am +sick of, and I’ll never enter the church door till there is an end of +it. You see the gate, sir. You are welcome to go away as soon as you +choose.” + +There was nothing for the vicar to do but to walk away, however Mrs. +Byrne wished to detain him till her husband had cooled. Peterson had +found his way over the fence, rather than cross the path of the angry +man. Byrne saw this, and shouted after the vicar, loud enough for +Peterson to hear, + +“You are mightily afraid of a deist, Mr. Hellyer: but if you care for +your church, look to your tithe-gatherer.” + +“Run after your papa, my dear,” said Mrs. Byrne to Alice, who was +contemplating the spilled milk: “never mind your birds; I will put them +under a coop till you come again.” + +“Papa looks so odd!” + +“The more reason you should go. Run after him, and talk about every +thing you can think of.” + +Alice hopped and skipped down the road, while Jane wept as if her heart +would break. Her grief could scarcely have been greater if she had known +the truth that time revealed,—that from this hour, her husband hated the +vicar with an intense hatred. + + + CHAPTER V. + + EXTORTION. + + +Before two years were over, the experiment of a close exaction of tithes +was considered by good judges to have been fairly tried, and to have +produced consequences as apparent as could be expected to arise in any +given case. + +First. There were three law-suits.—The vicar was plaintiff in a cause +where his late friend, Sir William Hood, was defendant. He claimed tithe +for the produce of a portion of the Abbey Farm; (or suffered under the +imputation of doing so, from still keeping the secret of having let his +rights to Peterson.) + +The Lamberts were not a little astonished at such a claim being made on +their tithe-free farm: but the vicar alleged that the exemption ceased +when the land was turned to other uses than those which prevailed when +the exemption was granted. The prescription was at an end, he contended, +when, as in this case, land which was in a state of tillage when +exempted was converted into pasture land. Much trouble was given to the +Lamberts, at the same time, by their being called upon to show the +requisites for the exemptions which had never been disputed;—that the +lands they held had been really abbey lands, and that they had been +immemorially discharged of tithes. Another suit was instituted against +Mr. Parker, to set aside a modus with which all parties had hitherto +been pretty well satisfied. By this modus,—or composition whereby the +layman is discharged from rendering his tithes, on his paying in lieu +thereof what immemorial custom, or the custom of the place, directs,—Mr. +Parker paid fourteen pounds for produce which, paid in kind, would have +yielded twenty. He had often thought himself unlucky in his bargain in +comparison with some who had a good bargain of their modus, paying +two-pence an acre, as their ancestors had done; or a fowl instead of the +year’s tithe of eggs: but he had little expected that the vicar would +lodge a complaint in a court of law of the modus being too large. It +accorded with six out of seven of the rules which constitute a good and +sufficient modus; but it violated one. It was certain and invariable: it +benefited the tithe-taker only: it was different from the thing +compounded for: it did not discharge from the payment of any other +species of tithe: it was, in its nature, as durable as the tithes +discharged by it: and it was immemorial without interruption; that is, +it had existed from the beginning of the reign of Richard the First, +which is the period fixed by the law as “the time of memory.” + +All this was indisputable; but the seventh condition was, that the modus +should not be too large;—that it should not be a rank modus. If Mr. +Parker had been paying four shillings, instead of fourteen pounds, the +modus might have been held a good one; but this was so doubtful as to be +supposed worth contesting, according to the decision, “the doctrine of +rankness in a modus is a question of fact to be submitted to a jury, +unless the grossness is obvious.” + +The third suit was of more consequence than either of the other two. It +had always been believed in the parish that the glebe land, which was +now annexed to the vicarage, had been once upon a time offered and +accepted as a substitute for the lesser tithes of a farm at present +occupied by one of the most respectable of the parishioners. Now, +however, for the first time, Mr. Pratt was called upon, either to show +evidence of such a bargain having taken place under all due formality of +circumstance, or to pay full tithe. Mr. Pratt was indignant when he +ceased to be astonished, and refused to pay the tithe unless he had the +glebe land back again. This was refused; and the law, as of course, was +made the arbitrator between the parties. + +Every body in the parish who paid a composition, now began to hunt up +the evidence of the ordinary having consented to it; of its being old +enough; and of its not having run on for a longer term than twenty-one +years, or the lives of three parsons. + +These proceedings did not improve the influence of the clergyman in the +parish. One after another of his flock wandered away to the Friends’ +Meeting house. There was talk of encouraging the methodists to build a +chapel, though an attempt to do so had failed three years before. +Subscriptions were withdrawn from the parochial library which the vicar +had set up: and in proportion as the law-suits were discussed, did the +respect with which he was once regarded change into rudeness. Few heads +were uncovered before him. Men turned their backs at his approach, and +the women did not look up from their work when the children gave notice +that he was passing by. He bore this, as he said, very patiently; +praying to God to turn the hearts of the flock once more to true +religion and reverence for the church. He declared himself resigned to +having fallen on evil days, and could wait till his parishioners should +repent of their treatment of him. He heroically adhered to his habits, +amidst the change of times; taking his walk past the houses which were +chalked with maledictions on him, and over the green where every one put +on a solemn look as soon as he came in sight. Alice could never prevail +on him to go round by the back lanes, though is was evident that she +suffered much pain, if not absolute terror, whenever she was his +companion amongst his alienated people. + +Those who suffered most, next to the vicar and his daughter, were +perhaps the Lamberts. Through the exterior of calmness which they +considered it a religious duty to preserve, it might be discerned that +their lightness of heart was gone. No lads could well be merrier than +Charles and Joseph used to be; and their mother’s influence was formerly +more frequently exerted in mildly chastening their mirth than in any +other way. When they had masqueraded, under pretence of amusing Alice, +or from singing a ‘ditty’ in the farm-house parlour had advanced to some +high thoughts about the cultivation of music, she had told tales of the +sobriety observed in her young days. Now, her endeavour was to cheer +them when they came in dispirited from their farm. She now asked for ‘a +ditty,’ and taught them two or three which their father used to sing to +her before they were born. She encouraged Joseph to use his pretty +talent for drawing, and was always ready to be read to when Charles +seemed disposed to take up his book in the evenings. It was the least +she could do, she thought, to keep up their spirits as well as her own, +since she had sanctioned their taking the Quarry Wood farm, which seemed +likely to run away with the gains they had made on the Abbey Farm; and +with more besides, if this season should turn out one of as great +scarcity as was apprehended. It was the least a mother could do, while +discouraging Charles from marrying Henrietta Gregg till his prospects +should clear, to make his home as little irksome as possible, and occupy +his thoughts with other things besides his love and his disappointments. +Some people thought (and they declared the vicar to be on their side) +that the ill success of the Lamberts on the Quarry Wood farm was no more +than might have been expected from their having any thing to do with +such an infidel as Mr. Mackintosh; and they had little pity, in some +quarters, for their failure: but they thought the whole might be +sufficiently accounted for without supposing that a special judgment had +overtaken them. Thus much, at least, was true: that no disasters had +befallen them in their management of the abbey farm, though Mr. +Mackintosh was their landlord; and that the Quarry Wood farm might have +been made to answer if it had been tithe-free. The natural conclusion +was that the tithes of the church were to blame, and not the infidelity +of Mr. Mackintosh. + +The rent of the Quarry Wood farm was low; and this had been the chief +temptation to the Lamberts to take it. They were aware that it required +much improvement, and were prepared to lay out a good deal of capital +upon it. The composition for tithe which had been formerly paid was very +moderate, and every body had supposed that it would, as a matter of +course, be continued. But the new tenants had not been in possession +half a year, before Peterson found means to set aside the composition, +and gave notice that he should demand tithe in kind. They hoped that, at +least, their improvements would remain exempt for seven years, according +to the statute:—a vain hope; as it was proved that the land, though long +left in wild condition, was not what the law would call barren. The +tithe seized the first year swallowed up so much of the returns as to +leave by far too little to pay for the enclosures. There was, indeed, so +much capital thus locked up that the young men declared they should have +let the land alone if they had known how they were to be taken in about +the tithes. The same was the case with an extent of woodland which they +had stubbed and grubbed, and made fit for the plough. As it had borne +wood, it was not ‘barren’ land, and it came under the tax. Of course, +the improvements were put a stop to presently, amidst many regrets that +the money had not been employed on some far inferior land on the +tithe-free farm. It had better have lain idle in their iron chest than +have been thus expended to a loss. If they had known more than they did +of the history of tithes, they would have been better aware of the +policy of idleness under such a system;—that idleness, both of labour +and capital, on which tithes offer a direct premium. They would have +known that the cultivation of flax and hemp in Ireland was suspended +till a low modus was fixed by law, under which it has flourished ever +since. They would have known that the production of madder was long +confined to the United Provinces, which, being Presbyterian, offered no +ecclesiastical tax on its cultivation; and that its growth in England +began from the time when, by a special provision, 5_s._ per acre were to +be taken in lieu of tithe of madder. They would have known that the +reason why Edward VI. exempted barren land from tithe for seven years +was, because, without this provision, the land would never have yielded +at all, either to the public or to the church. They would have known how +tremendous is the waste, to the public, to the farmer, to the landlord, +and eventually to the church, by a method of taxation which causes worse +land to be cultivated while the better lies waste—by a method of +taxation which reaches land untouched by rent, and which, by absorbing a +larger and a larger share of profits which are perpetually decreasing, +raises prices to a degree quite inconsistent with the prosperity of all +the parties concerned. If the Lamberts had duly studied the tithe +question, they would have foreseen the disasters which must arise, +instead of being taught by bitter experience. Their case was just this;— +and it is a fair specimen of what is taking place wherever the tithe +system is adopted. + +The best land on their two farms yielded an equal produce. As the Quarry +Wood land paid tithe, they would have been obliged to raise the price of +their corn so high as to cover the cost of the impropriator’s share, as +well as the expences of cultivation, if this had not been already done +by the body of tithe-paying corn growers. Corn was already dearer in the +market, by the parson’s share, than it would have been if the parsons +had had no share. The produce of the abbey farm brought in a larger +profit through this elevation of prices; but this circumstance had been +considered in fixing the rent; and the surplus profit went, not to the +Lamberts, but to their landlord, in the shape of higher rent. Thus far, +they neither lost nor gained. The consumers of corn lost, and Mr. +Mackintosh gained. The same took place on a few inferior kinds of land. +But there was soil which would have paid profits of stock as well as +rent, if there had been no tithe, but which should have been left +uncultivated (because tithe would swallow up the profits) if the +Lamberts had been aware of the claim which would be advanced by the +parson. On this soil their labour was lost: landlord and parson being +paid, nothing remained for them. This land, therefore, was to be let out +of cultivation; and the capital and labour employed upon it were +transferred to an inferior kind of land on the tithe-free farm, which +required a much larger expenditure to produce an equal return. In this +case, the Lamberts lost by their unprofitable expenditure of labour and +capital; and nobody gained. A yet lower quality of soil was next taken +into cultivation, requiring a yet larger proportionate outlay of capital +and labour, and yielding a sufficient return to the cultivator only +because it was exempt from rent as well as tithe. The rise of price, +caused by the relinquishment of the better land for the sake of +cultivating the worse, was injurious to all the three parties, and +particularly to those—viz., the Lamberts—who had to pay the most wages. +It would have answered incalculably better to have paid over to the +church the capital which was arbitrarily buried in the lower soils, than +that portion of produce which caused it to be so buried. Rent would have +been equalised between the two estates; prices would have kept their +natural elevation; the better soil would have been tilled, and the worst +let alone; the parson would have had as much gain and cheaper bread; the +landlord would also have had cheaper bread, and a larger rent for the +one estate, as well as a smaller for the other; and the Lamberts would +not have lost on the one hand by being deprived of their profits, and on +the other by the rise of wages. The only persons anywhere who had ground +for unmixed rejoicing in this state of things were the landlords of none +but tithe-free estates. By the rise of rent, they gained, and they +alone: and their gain was by no means in proportion to the collective +loss of the other parties. But it was a curious fact that, while the +church was complained of (and justly) on all hands, for the tremendous +injury occasioned by its tithe system, the benefits of it went into the +pockets of landowners amidst the hills and dales of Scotland, where a +commutation long ago placed them beyond the hazards of the desperate +game; and of all who could take their stand on abbey lands, or on some +lucky ancient modus, or equally happy modern composition. + +From the circumstances of the case, the Lamberts suffered all the +injustice which must accrue upon the first institution of this most +pernicious tax. When it has been long enough paid to become calculable, +it is allowed for in the rent, and falls next, like other land taxes, on +the landowner—the person most able, from the perpetual tendency of rent +to rise, to bear the burden. But it is not long a burden to him, except +as a consumer; for, as it operates in increasing the expense of +cultivation, it raises prices; and the consumer ultimately pays. The +hardship of a new institution, or, as in this case, of a revival of +tithe, is very great upon the tenant, and is a sufficient exponent of +the pernicious nature of the impost. The lease of the Quarry Wood farm +had not many years to run; but the experience of the first two years, +and the opening of the third, left the prospect of the young farmers +anything but bright. The present spring had been most unfavourable to +the crops. The doubt was whether so much rain was not rotting the +vegetation in the ground. The view from the summer-house was dreary,—of +sodden fields, and lanes lying under water. The very wall-flowers +languished for want of sun, Mrs. Lambert found when she one day climbed +the hill: but they did not droop like her poor son Charles, whom she +found there, looking out of the window, with his head leaning on his +hand, and listening to the patter of rain-drops which again began to +fall, and to drop from the broad thatch into the little dell over which +the summer-house projected. It was a dispiriting thing to wander over +the lands of Quarry Wood farm, and see enclosures deserted when half +finished, and fields from which golden harvests had been anticipated, +grown over with briars and thistles. It was in such a place that Mrs. +Lambert met Joseph, one April afternoon, when the twilight was settling +down. + +“What hast thou got there, mother?” said he: “A heavy load for thee to +carry.” + +“Not so heavy as large. These stringy, branchy roots make a fine blaze +to drink tea by; and I thought it a pity this one should lie and rot +yonder. But thou hast thy hands full, seemingly. Where art thou taking +that poor thing to?” + +It was a ewe, very near its time of yeaning. Joseph explained that +Peterson’s eagerness about where the ewes couched and fed had put into +his brother’s head and his own a device which it was very well to have +thought of. In the next parish, tithes were only half the amount that +they were in this; and Charles and he had prepared the bit of land they +had in that parish for their ewes. The animals were now being +transferred thither, gradually and quietly, lest Peterson should set up +a plea of fraudulent removal. The lambs would remain there till the +tithing was over: and it was much to be wished that there was room for +all their flocks till shearing time should have also passed. + +“But I am afraid we must go a long circuit, before we can get to the +ground,” continued he. “This field is too deep in wet for the poor thing +to cross. ’Tis like a ditch, from end to end.” + +“I should not have thought there had been rain enough of late to soak +the meadow in this way,” observed the widow. + +“Except by filling the drains,” replied Joseph. “They are choaked up, +too, from our having left the whole concern hereabouts to itself, this +year. But how in the world am I to get this animal over? She will make +herself heard with her bleating after the flock.” + +“These are strange times, surely, Joseph, when a ewe may not bleat her +own bleat, and when a son of mine skulks under a hedge on his own farm.” + +“And the cause is full as strange, mother,—fear of man. I little thought +to fear men; but there are two that I would go a mile round to avoid.” + +“And they would say it is because thou art trying to cheat them;—in the +very act of carrying thy ewes to yean out of their dominions.” + +“Let them say so. It is not such a charge that I fear. Disclaiming, as +we do, the ordinance of a priesthood altogether, my conscience leaves me +free to put my beasts to couch and feed where it is most convenient, +without regard to the parson. My fear is that I should hate those men. +They injure me, and I cannot resist; and I have lost patience of late. I +would rather walk close under my own hedge, and keep my ewe from +bleating than speak, even to myself, as I hear some speak of the +collector, and of the vicar, who countenances him in his strictness.” + +“I sometimes think that if the vicar’s wife were still living, she would +be rather uneasy about his terms with his people. She would hardly like +his being much from home after dark.” + +“So, that has struck thee too, as well as Charles and me. It was only +this morning that I was saying to Charles, that perhaps it is a blessing +that Alice is too young to have such fancies as she may live to suffer +from. I suppose she is in bed and asleep when he goes and comes through +that lonely lane at the back of the vicarage, as he visits his brother +of an evening. That lane is hardly the place for a man who has so many +enemies.” + +“I trust thou hast no apprehension of anything worse than a few insults; +or at most a beating, to show contempt.” + +“Indeed, I thought of something much worse. There is less contempt than +hatred of this man. He is so persuaded that he is right in all that he +does that it is impossible to despise him as if he defied the inward +witness: but he is the more hated as people see no end to their troubles +with him. If I am not mistaken, there are some in the parish who have +diligently inquired his age; and not precisely for the purpose of +wishing him many happy birth-days.” + +“Is the ewe by thy side?” asked Mrs. Lambert, in a low voice, and +peering through the gathering twilight; “or was it something else that I +heard stirring in this ditch?” + +It was not the ewe, but Peterson, who had come, as he said, over a gap +in the hedge. In the darkness, it would have been impossible to make out +whether he had heard anything of what had been said. Mrs. Lambert +therefore asked him. + +“Friend, didst thou hear what we were talking about?” + +“Tones of voice tell as much as words, mistress: and I wonder at a plain +spoken person like you calling me ‘friend,’ when both you and I know +that you hate me like the devil. However, I am going to make you hate me +more still, I fancy. Mr. Joseph, you have let this land go to waste in a +very sad way; and a field yonder, too. The water stands a foot deep in +this meadow; and my children play hide and seek among the whins yonder, +where you might have corn growing, if you would.” + +Joseph supposed he might do as he pleased with the land till his lease +was out. + +“But my employer is not to suffer for your neglecting your land. The law +makes a distinction between land that is really barren, and that which +is needlessly inundated, or overgrown with briars. ‘The field of the +slothful,’ you know. My eldest girl got her frock so torn with your +briars, that she brought a pretty scolding upon herself, I can tell +you.” + +“Send her up to me, and I will mend her frock,” requested Mrs. Lambert. +“I will give her a new one if thou wilt let my son alone as to whether +there shall be briars or anything else in his field.” + +“No objection in the world, ma’am, if he pay the due tithe.” + +“I’m sure thou art kindly welcome to a tenth of the water in this field, +and of the stones in the one above,” observed Joseph. But this offer was +declined, and the old composition for these two fields proposed instead. + +Before there had been time for the dispute to proceed further, a strange +sound from the church tower arrested Peterson’s attention. The bells +seemed about to be rung, and Peterson was gone. + +What the occasion of rejoicing could be, the Lamberts did not know; nor +did they very much care. They had grown listless about good news, and +were now most anxious to conclude the business of the evening. As +Peterson had crossed the meadow, it must be possible for them and their +charge to do so too. The little ridge which stood out of the water was +found, and, one by one, several of the teeming ewes were removed and +penned into their new inclosures before Joseph went home; and no +tormentor appeared. + +Joseph told his mother that the labourers who had cut the osiers for +hurdles had been questioned whether the article was intended for sale or +gift, or for use on the farm. The labourers were glad to be able for +once to repulse the tithing man, whom they were weary of having for ever +at their heels. There was no small pleasure in seeing the meek animals +comfortably provided for on the outskirts of the farm; as if they were +as conscious as their owners of the inhospitable character of the parish +whose bounds they had crossed. It does not appear that lambs know a +tithing-man by instinct; but Joseph put expressions of pity into his +farewell for the night which might seem to imply that he felt them to be +fellow-sufferers with himself under the rule of the parish tyrant. + +After running home in the dark, with sleet pelting in their faces, the +mother and son liked the aspect of their house, with its old-fashioned +windows lighted from within. + +“See what it is not to wear curled hair,” cried Mrs. Lambert, wiping the +cold drops from her short, grey locks, combed straight down on her +forehead. “If I had had such ringlets as some fine ladies, now, what a +figure my sons would have thought me all this evening, with hair as lank +as a melancholy queen’s in a tragedy! I call it neat as it is.” + +Joseph had not observed his mother’s hair, he was so taken up with +examining a letter which had lain among the tea-things on the table. He +guessed its contents; and they were indeed such as would have damped a +far greater cheerfulness than could arise from the aspect of a warm +parlour on a chilly evening. Mrs. Lambert’s only sister, a widow, was +dead, and had left five children with a very inadequate provision, if +any. + +When Charles entered, a short time afterwards, he knew from the first +glance at his mother, sitting with crossed hands and a countenance of +placid gravity, that something was the matter. Joseph was standing in +the chimney corner, gazing into the fire. Charles looked from one to the +other. His mother roused herself. + +“We are not made to choose our own duties, son,” said she. “I know that +it is thy wish to be a husband, Charles; and Joseph and I wish it for +thee. But here are thy five cousins left helpless. Their mother is dead; +and while I live, they must be my children, as much as you. I must take +them into this house, and let them eat at my table.” + +“And do you think we will not help you, mother? I will go to-morrow and +bring them; and if it shall please God always to disappoint me, I must +bear it as well as I can.” + +“I hope he will let it be with thee as it has been with me, Charles. All +the worst troubles that I have known have been unlooked for; and every +thing that I have particularly dreaded has turned out better than I +expected. I know that this is a blow to thee, though thou bearest it +well at present. I hope that thou wilt not have to wait so long for +Henrietta as we now expect.” + +“I wish thou wouldst not speak of me, mother, when I know that this +death is a matter of great concern to thee. When my aunt was last here, +and every one said that she looked more like thy daughter than thy +sister, we did not think that we should not see her again.” + +The crossing of the hands again, and the slight change of countenance +showed that this subject was very painful. Next to her sons, there was +no one in the world that Mrs. Lambert loved so much as this sister—many +years younger than herself, to whom she had been, in early life, as a +mother. + +Presently she moved about, much as usual, doing all that she would have +done if no bad news had come,—only with somewhat more gravity and +silence. She did not forget to put on the dry root to burn; and it +blazed and crackled as busily as if it had been ministering to the +comfort of the merriest tea-party in the world. + +“There are the bells again!” cried Charles. “I thought I had stopped +them. I wish thou wouldst go down, and try to stop them, Joseph.” + +There was an odd reason for the ringing of these bells. A stranger who +had been seen loitering in the parish for a day or two was supposed to +be the person who had told the publican that the vicar had received a +remonstrance from his ordinary respecting his strictness in the exaction +of his tithes; and that it was probable that he might be removed ere +long, to give place to some one more acceptable to the parishioners. The +publican had made the most of the news; and some of his customers, +warmed with his good ale, had sallied forth, and found easy means of +setting the bells ringing. Peterson was trying in vain to silence them, +when Charles went down to enquire; but Charles had prevailed where the +tithe-gatherer had met with only defiance. The bells, however, were now +ringing again. + +Joseph thought that enough had been done. In a better cause, he would +not have regarded the sleet and the north wind that he must encounter in +his way to the church; but he now preferred sitting in the chimney +corner, hearing the merry peal by fits, as the gust rattled at the +window and passed on. Besides, his mother wanted him to help to lay +plans for these orphan children. + +When the Lamberts had been more prosperous than they were now, they had +planned an enlargement of their house, which was scarcely large enough +for themselves, and would have required an addition on Charles’s +marriage, if only from respect to Henrietta. It was particularly +conveniently placed for receiving an addition of two or three rooms on +the south side; and a pretty parlour, with a bay-window, was to have +ornamented the dwelling. Prudential considerations had caused the scheme +to be given up; but this evening it was revived. Charles produced the +plans which his brother had drawn, and which he had hoped would next see +the light in Henrietta’s service. He suppressed a sigh when his mother’s +decided pencil scored out the bay-window; and he roused his best powers +of judgment to discuss the necessary questions of convenience and +economy.—There was some good brick clay in one corner of the farm, and +timber enough for their purpose; and the young men thought that, by dint +of their working like labourers, and their mother’s superintending +during their unavoidable absence, the enlargement of their dwelling +might be effected without any very ruinous expense. The brick making was +to be set about immediately, if the weather should but prove fine +enough. Bricks were very dear this wet season; and the supply now wanted +must be made at home, if possible. + + + + + CHAPTER VI. + + COMMUTATION. + + +The bells, or the rumours of them, made themselves heard beyond the +parish. The vicar was little moved by them; but uncle Jerom was seen by +Alice, the next morning, approaching in a state of sad perturbation. As +he could not prevail upon his brother to modify his system through a +consideration for his personal safety and dignity, he now tried a +different kind of appeal. He asked whether it was not a deplorable +scandal to the church that there should be bell-ringing at the prospect +of a clergyman being taken from his flock. + +“It was less that than the belief that I had been rebuked by my superior +which caused the exultation,” quietly replied the vicar. “But you know +that neither the one nor the other is true. I will not, by yielding my +own claims, give occasion for the supposition that my superior yields +those of the church.” + +“But if you allow proprietors to buy up the tithes on their own lands,— +Parker for instance,—you will cease to have such for enemies; and it +will be a very different thing from selling the dues of the church to an +intermediate layman.” + +“Ah! Jerom, there you touch my conscience in the only tender part. I +have long repented letting my tithes to Peterson, as you recommended. It +was bad advice, Jerom, as is all advice to rate at an average a revenue +for sacred objects, of which revenue it is the primary quality that, as +God’s seasons vary, it must vary. Jerom, yours was bad advice.” + +“Indeed it seems to have been so, by the aggravation of your troubles +since Peterson became your lessee. But I find from him that Sir William +Hood is about to allow the great tithes to be bought up, in order to put +a stop to the deterioration of husbandry in the parish; and I really +think you could not do a better thing than follow his example when so +good an opportunity offers.” + +The vicar spread both hands before his brother, in emphatic refusal. + +“Papa,” said Alice, “I wish you would do as you are bid, sometimes, as +you are always telling me to do. Why don’t you mind what uncle Jerom +says, and what every body says? Well, it may not be every body’s +business; but I know what Jane says; and I am sure she is as fond of you +as any body can be.” + +The being fond of him argued such a right mind towards the church, that +the vicar was immediately prepared to hear what Mrs. Byrne had to say. + +“She says that she is frightened to hear how people talk; and that she +shall never be easy to see you out walking till you have somehow put +other people into your place about collecting the tithes. If there must +be tithes, so that Mr. Parker must always look out of humour, and the +Lamberts grow sad, and Mr. Byrne give up more and more things in his +garden, the blame ought to go where it is due, she says; and that is to +the church, and not to you. And it would be so, she thinks, if people +all bought their own, and there was an end of the quarrelling that there +is now, twice a year.” + +“I wonder who suggested the idea to her,” observed the vicar. “If I +thought it was Mr. Mackintosh——” + +“I think it was not Mr. Mackintosh, papa. I think it was the man that——” + +“I know whom you mean,” said Jerom; “the stranger who has been hanging +about the parish lately,—no one can tell why. Some of my people suspect +that he is an agent in the rick-burning plot. I am sorry that Byrne lets +him within his doors.” + +“And so is Jane, I think,” said Alice. “She always tries to prevent my +seeing him, if he happens to be in the cottage; and once I observed her +cry the moment she saw her husband bringing him up the road. Perhaps he +will go away, papa, if you will do as they wish you should.” + +This was not the very best kind of appeal that Alice could have used. He +yielded so far, however, as to allow his brother to bring him word how +the bargains for the great tithes between Peterson and the payers were +framed, and what effect they appeared to produce on the minds and +manners of the discontented. He would determine accordingly as to +revising his scruples, or dismissing the matter entirely from his +thoughts. + +Of course, those who were visited by Mr. Peterson and his companion +varied in their eagerness to buy up their tithes, in proportion to the +duration of their interest in the land. A farmer who had just entered +upon a long lease offered a twenty years’ purchase at 7_l._ per acre, +all round,—arable and pasture. Others who were near the end of their +lease, and were discouraged by the unfavourable aspect of the season, +desired to buy up their tithes year by year, if they could but be secure +against competition. Mr. Parker was willing to make a liberal thirty +years’ purchase, in order to free his own estate, and leave himself at +liberty to improve it without discouragement, or bequeath it to his son +without disadvantage. The sum demanded from him, as a hop-grower, was, +however, so enormous, that he declared he would rather give up growing +hops, as others had done before him, than pay such a merciless impost. +Peterson asked him what he would have; and showed him that other +people’s hop-grounds had yielded at the rate of 3_l._ per acre. Mr. +Parker wished to proceed upon the basis of an average of the last five +or seven years; but this was declared to be the most fallacious of +guides. Peterson contended that the seasons had been peculiarly +unfavourable, and that the modes of management had so varied within six +years as to leave no reasonable average. He proposed to value the land +and the tithe, deducting the poor-rate and a per centage for the owner’s +trouble in stacking, thatching, and threshing his farm produce, and +carrying his hops to market. He considered it very liberal to offer a +further reduction of 20 per cent. in consideration of the security of +the impropriator from the accidents of chance and change: but Mr. Parker +hesitated and grumbled, and treated Peterson’s companion with nearly as +fine a lament over the assimilating qualities of the church as Mr. +Mackintosh himself could have offered. He related that he had a pretty +farm near town which had never before been let by him for less than +5_l._ per acre. It was with difficulty that he could now get 3_l._, on +account of the enormous tithe. It was bad enough to have the poor’s-rate +as high as 13_s._ per acre, and the sewer’s-rate perhaps 7_s._ or 8_s._ +more; but the amount of tithe paid in addition was intolerable. The +three rates together amounted to nearly 3_l._ per acre over the whole +farm. He hoped Mr. Hellyer thought he contributed his share towards +promoting the piety of the nation, when his land thus paid 3_l._ per +acre to maintaining a single clergyman. + +Peterson wished to know in what proportion the different kinds of +produce yielded. Mr. Parker was remarkable for a good memory as to the +several amounts of tithe. + + Wheat paid 20_s._ per acre. + Barley and oats 16_s._ ” + Clover 24_s._ ” + Tares 16_s._ ” + First crop of potatoes 25_s._ ” + After which (on the same land) turnips 16_s._ ” + Second crop of potatoes 20_s._ ” + Hay 8_s._ ” + Onions 40_s._ ” + Collards 16_s._ ” + A sow 10_s._ 6_d._ + A cow 15_s._ + +And garden and farm-yard poultry according to circumstances. A certain +amount was to be paid for all small tithes, whether the tenant produced +the titheable articles or not. + +“There are plenty of men like you,” observed Mr. Parker to Peterson, +“who talk of an average of a few years on each separate estate,—five or +seven years,—and would have any commutation that is proposed proceed +upon such an average. Now, here is a case which shows you the injustice +of such a principle. My interest in my land would be almost annihilated +if I allowed it to be calculated to yield 2_l._ per acre to the church. +To perpetuate such a charge as this would be to ruin the owners of land +near London, and in many other situations. They say the price of produce +would rise accordingly; but before it could rise enough to repay me for +such a sacrifice, the people would be boiling acorns and stewing nettles +for food.” + +“And it would ruin the church in some other districts,—” Jerom was going +on to say; but Mr. Parker interrupted him with,— + +“Not so completely as the present plan, sir. The worst enemy of the +church,—Mr. Mackintosh himself,—could not desire more than to see the +church consuming the state, as it is doing now. As for men that we think +wiser than Mr. Mackintosh, they are of opinion that religion was given +us to bless our bread, to prosper us in basket and store, and not to +devour our plenty. The people cannot but see that the reverse is the +case with the established religion of this country;—that in plentiful +seasons, the clergy take much, (legally, I allow,)—and that in bad +seasons they take more, (legally, and therefore the more gallingly.) The +people cannot but feel that as the net produce of the nation grows +smaller in proportion to the gross, and as the clergy seize a larger +proportion of the net produce, the question must come to this,—whether +the people shall have state-priests or bread. How the clergy are likely +to fare in such an alternative, I leave it to you to guess.” + +“So, you allow that this is a question pertaining to the people. You +allow that the landlord does not alone support the church.” + +“Look at the owners of tithe-free lands, and see the folly of such a +question. They are getting rich under the operation of our precious +system of inequality. And how? Not merely because their farms are in an +universally better condition than the tithed: not only because the abbey +farm is better worth 20_s._ per acre rent than the Quarry Wood farm is +worth 13_s._, for the reason that the one does not pay tithe and the +other does,—and so on, through all farms that bear this distinction; but +because these landowners are profiting by the high prices of produce +which must cover the sacrifice of the tithe-payer. No, no: landowner as +I am, I never was heard to say that the landlord pays the tithe, in a +general way, any more than the farmer. They both have their grievances, +and their occasional losses under the system;—they are vexed from month +to month, and eat dear bread and meat in their own families, and pay +high wages to their labourers; but these sacrifices are made by them in +their character of consumers; and it is the people who pay the tithes; +the poor Stockport weaver in his garret, and the half-starved +apple-vender in her cellar, as truly as the Lamberts and myself.” + +“You would sweep away tithe, at once and for ever, I suppose, in pity to +these poor people; and set your vicar and myself to weave in a garret, +or sell apples in a cellar.” + +“No; it may be left to Mackintosh to preach up such a scheme of +spoliation as that. If the clergy alone were concerned, I might be +willing,—not that they should weave and sell apples,—but that they +should obtain their support, like other servants of society, from the +hands of those whom they serve. But tithe property has become so +complicated with other property as to be equally sacred with that other +property: and I should cry out as vehemently against its abolition +(without compensation) as against reducing the interest of the debt. No +wise man—no man of honour—can advocate either kind of public robbery.” + +“Since there is this complication of tithe with other property, it had +better be let alone. You can no more disentangle it than you can pay the +debt. You will never achieve a scheme which will satisfy both tithe and +land owner.” + +“Probably. It would be strange if a perfectly unobjectionable plan could +be formed to lead us out of the mischiefs of a pernicious system whose +evil influences have been accumulating for centuries. But, if the church +and the landowners understand anything of their own state and prospects, +they will be anxious for a final settlement of their accounts within a +defined and early period. Such a settlement must take place, sooner or +later, since this tax involves the very principle of perpetual growth. +Nothing but absolute transformation can prevent it enlarging till it +swallows up everything.” + +“I am sure my brother and I do not find it so.” + +“Because you cannot recover your dues; but the farmer can instruct you +here. My father had a favourite little farm of a hundred acres, which +was left to him in 1791, and came into my hands in 1812. When he first +let it, the rent was 80_l._, and the tithe 14_l._ 9_s._; in 1798, the +tithe had risen to 17_l._ 12_s._; in 1805, rent was 95_l._, tithe 23_l._ +7_s._; in 1812 the tithe had risen to 29_l._ A farm of mine, which let, +a few years ago, for 240_l._, then paid 30_l._ in tithes. It now lets +for 689_l._, and the tithes are 140_l._: that is, the tithes are nearer +five-fold than the rent three-fold what was paid before. And, in like +manner, there must be an increase all over the country, since the same +proportion of the gross produce must be paid in tithe, through every +increase of the expense of such production. Therefore, above all things, +let us know, in rectifying our tithe system, that we really are to have +done with it by and by; and when.” + +“And how do you propose to reconcile the clergy to the tithe system thus +being brought to an end?” + +“Those of them who understand their own position see, like other men, +the folly of the clergy stickling for tithes. The clergy have only a +life-interest in tithes; and the possession of a certain income is the +circumstance which is of most consequence to them. Some contend for +tithes as if they were the most secure source of income in the world, or +as if they were an inheritance for a future generation; but many more +would be glad to depend on a fund less precarious, and less odious in +the collection.” + +“Do you allow nothing for attachment to ancient ecclesiastical +institutions?” + +“In your simple brother: but there are faithful churchmen, just as much +attached as he to ancient ecclesiastical institutions, who have eyes to +see the different effects of the tithe systems of Ireland and Scotland, +and who reason from them. They see how, in Ireland, the farmer becomes a +peasant, and then is hunted out of house and home by the proctor, and +then turns on the proctor to maim and murder him; while in Scotland, the +farmer carries home his harvest without interruption, and looks with +compassion on his English brother. In the first case, appears an +aggravated repetition of the abuses of the English system; in the other, +the tithes are drawn with comparative harmlessness, whether by the +crown, the clergy, or laymen, in the form of a fixed rent. So long ago +as Pitt’s time, there were not wanting bishops to approve of the church +being supported by a civil fund. It is true, the plan would have been +all for the benefit of the clergy, in the very point in which it is most +important to obtain relief.” + +“In that of the perpetual increase of which you complain?” + +“Yes. When the tithe should have been bought up, in the same way that it +was intended that the land-tax should be, and the proceeds invested in +the funds, the people were not to flatter themselves that they had done +with the tax. The income was to be so adjusted as to admit an increase, +from time to time, in proportion to the rise in the price of grain. The +bishop who recorded this scheme breathed no syllable about the +desecration of the church by this mode of augmenting its funded income: +and the objections of his brethren were of a different cast.” + +“As different, probably, as mine from my brother’s, when we sit down to +talk over the prospects of the church. I have not the least objection, +as he will tell you, to an alteration in the source of our incomes, if +the change could be innocently brought about; but I never could see how +injustice and tyranny, towards one party or the other, are to be +avoided. It is tyranny to the landowner to compel the universal and +immediate purchase of the tithe; and it is injustice to the clergy to +prohibit that natural increase of their revenue which they consider to +have been guaranteed to them by the very institution of tithes?” + +“Suppose a plan which should contain an alternative by which both these +objections should be answered. Suppose a scheme of commutation under +which a tithe-rate should be instituted, subject to increase upon a +demand for a revaluation of land, from time to time; while an option +should be given to the landowner, to be subject to this increase, or to +make a twenty or thirty years’ purchase,—that is, a final purchase of +the tithe. I think there might be such a plan.” + +“And then those who paid the most tithe would be the first to redeem. +But how would you set about ascertaining a _tithe-rate_, afraid as you +are of taking an average of a few years as a rule?” + +“That objection applies only to perpetuating the limited average of an +individual estate. If the average is extended over a parish, or over a +county, the calculation becomes a much fairer one. I see no other +principle to proceed upon than that of taking an average; and the +question of fairness lies between taking in a longer period of time and +a larger extent of space. I feel that it would be hard upon me to +perpetuate the tithe of my farm near town at 2_l._ per acre; and though +it would be fairer to take for a basis the average of tithe which it has +paid for fifty years, a better plan still would be to find out the +proportion of tithe to yearly value of land all through the county, and +to fix the tithe-rate according to this proportion.” + +“You could never get such a valuation made fairly. When you meet with a +modus, what are you to do with it? And how are you to settle what is +arable land and what pasture? And every farmer will protest against some +kinds of produce that are particularly profitable being no more taxed +than others. There would be complaints of you,—a hop-grower,—being let +off as easily as a grower of corn.” + +“All these matters of detail might be settled when once the general +principle is agreed upon. If hop-grounds now pay considerably more, from +the nature of their produce, than other lands, let them be subject to a +fair extra charge. Let a term be fixed,—five years, perhaps,—within +which the tillage of lands shall cause those lands to be called arable. +And what is easier than to deduct any modus from the tithe-rate? Give us +the principle of a good scheme, and its application will not be long +delayed by difficulties about these minor matters of detail?” + +“Your plan would be to have an ascertainment of the annual value of the +land, and of the tithe, upon an average of a few years. You would settle +their relative value, and declare it in the form of a poundage upon rent +for the county. You would allow a periodical revaluation on the +application of the tithe-owner——” + +“Or of the landowner.” + +“Of either party, of course. So the tithe remains liable to increase or +decrease——” + +“It would be increase. The nature of the tax insures its perpetual +increase. But the bad effects of this increase would be guarded against +by obliging the tithe-taker to accept from the tithe-payer a twenty-five +years’ purchase of the tithes, as a final redemption of his land from +tithes. If this tax be really the grievance it is declared to be, the +permission to redeem will be made ample use of. And the church——” + +“Ah! how do you propose to reconcile the church to the extinction of +tithes?” + +“To the perpetuation, I suppose you mean. If you should happen to live a +few years longer under the present system, you might chance to be taught +a little more correctly what extinction is. If you now find it +impossible to collect all that is due to you, you may have no chance of +collecting any thing twenty-five years hence. The church may be very +thankful to have its present amount of revenue secured to it, and to be +allowed the opportunity of making a permanent property of it. My great +doubt is——” + +“Under what agency the commutation is to be effected so as to satisfy +the parties. Who will undertake it?” + +“Agents so various as to secure impartiality. Royal Commissioners, +perhaps, might make the original valuation: and they might be followed +by arbitrators who should settle disputes. Then the mechanical part of +the business,—the ascertainment of the tithe-rate,—might be done by the +justices. The business which most nearly concerns the church,—the final +bargain with the landowner, and the investment of the purchase-money +either in land for glebe, in the funds, or in mortgages, might be +managed by a corporation of churchmen.” + +“But how many landowners who may wish to redeem will be ready with the +cash?” + +“Why must the church be paid in cash? A mortgage on the land to be +redeemed, with a good rate of interest,—say 4 per cent.,—would suit the +convenience of all parties. A small per centage on the tithe-rate +collected would defray all expences.—I do not see how any difficulties +which can attend a scheme like this can be shown to bear any comparison +with the evils daily endured under the present system. The doubt I spoke +of is whether the great body of the people would not complain of the +church being too well treated, its chances of existence being too +favourably computed, under such a scheme as I have given you an outline +of. I, for one, should say so, if I supposed that the church must either +retain its present form or perish. But, believing that there is an +alternative, I am willing to do my part in such a compromise as I have +proposed.” + +“What kind of an alternative?” + +“The transformation of the church, so that it may fulfil the original +purposes of its establishment. When the church was established for the +promotion of religion, religion was the only kind of education which +could be given to the people. The time is come when not only must the +church be made an educational institution, in order to fulfil its +original design, but the religion which it professes to protect cannot +be supported without the aid of education. If it could be, it would be +superstition, and not religion.—Yes, the days of the present mode of +existence of the Church of England are numbered. Religion flourishes so +much more eminently, so much more extensively when supported by the +free-will of the worshippers, and has been so indisputably proved +incapable of an incorrupt union with the state, as to leave no doubt +that the Church of England, already a very minute sect among the +worshippers of christendom, will soon become too insignificant and weak +to maintain its place, unless it quits the ground of its present +monstrous assumption, and takes its stand on the cultivated reason of +its supporters. I do not know why you,—a clergyman as you are,—should +look surprised at what is far from surprising to those who are not +clergymen. Look at the map of christendom, and see what space is +occupied by our church. Look at Great Britain alone, and mark what +proportion the dissenters bear to the church. Observe how many are +coming forth from her,—and those the zealous and the dissatisfied, +while, from the very nature of the case, the lukewarm and indifferent +remain in the bosom of the establishment. Mark the certainty that the +worldly and careless will go over to the dissenters from the moment that +dissent reaches the point of ascendancy over conformity, and then say +whether there be any other alternative than this,—that the Church of +England must enlarge its office, and improve its ministrations, or +fall.” + +“My brother will preach against you for a person as dangerous as Mr. +Mackintosh.” + +“He will not make Mr. Mackintosh less dangerous, but more so, by +preaching against him; and as for me, he might perhaps do more wisely in +hearing me than in marking me out to be questioned by those in this +parish who do not love the church as they once did.” + +“And you would tell those questioners that they must not love their +church any more till it is no longer a church, but a school.” + +“Till the vices of the institution are exploded,—till the clergy cease +to be the organs and tools of the oligarchy, for whose purposes the +corrupt system of church patronage is kept up. If the clergy were paid +according to their services by those whom they serve, instead of being +made the pretext for keeping up an ecclesiastical fund useful for +filling the pockets and disposing of the younger sons of the +aristocracy, there would be an end of the overgrown wealth of some of +our dignitaries, and the disgraceful poverty of too many of our working +clergy. There would also be some chance of the clergy ceasing to be +below every other class of men in a reputation for moral and political +independence.—‘By teaching, we learn;’ and there may yet be hope that +such of the clergy as shall be qualified to begin imparting the elements +of the morals required by an advancing age, may be able to bear the ark +of christianity through the troubled waters which they must soon +encounter. Such of them as are unfit for this office will sink, and, +while sinking, will cry that the ark has perished. But there will not be +many to believe it.” + +“God will support his own church.” + +“God will support the true faith; and his support must be looked for in +the usual mode of manifestation,—in the support of man,—in the +recognition by man of what is just and right.” + +“Your proposed method of commuting some of the property of the church is +to be recognized as just and right, I suppose.” + +“I believe it has a pretty good chance of being so, if one great +consideration be attended to in time;—a consideration which is at +present by far too little regarded. This measure can hardly be called +just to the people at large, unless it be followed up by another.” + +“Ah! that is the way. Every innovation brings another after it.” + +“How else is the race to advance? You yourself believe that the great +innovation of christianity brought many others after it; and, you may +believe me, these of which we are speaking form part of the sequence. +Justice requires that there should be an alteration in our corn-laws, to +meet the enlargement of demand that must follow upon the relief of land +from the burden of tithe.” + +“You do not mean that the clergy now eat more corn than they will eat +then?” + +“No; but the price of corn is now higher than it will be then. No one +knows better than you, as a clergyman, that not above one half of the +sums drawn out of their natural channel under the tithe system goes to +the clergy. Half of it goes into the pockets of the owners of tithe-free +land, in the shape of increased rent. This rent would fall; and after +it, the price of produce; and the fall of price would be followed by an +increased demand; and this demand would be supplied,—not only by +increased importation, (the import duties having previously risen with +the fall of prices at home,) but by the cultivation of inferior soils, +now no longer subjected to the burden of tithe. A quantity of the +capital of the nation must thus be buried in inferior soils, and tend to +increase rent,—_i. e._ to enrich the landlord, and, once again, the +church, at the expense of the people.” + +“But the great obstacle to the repeal of the corn-laws at present is the +amount of capital which is invested in inferior soils.” + +“The very best reason for not tempting or compelling a further +investment of the same sort. The whole benefit of the commutation +depends upon this. If the import duties be so lowered as to admit of the +usual supply from abroad, our people will obtain the desired relief from +the change of system. If not, it will matter little to the weaver and +the apple-vender, at the end of five years, whether they pay their tax +to the clergy, or to the barrenness of the ground. It should not, in +this conjuncture, be forgotten that the plea of landlords for +maintaining the corn-laws has always been the taxes upon agricultural +production,—and tithes above all the rest. If, when tithes are commuted, +the landlords should change their plea, and declare that it was not they +who formerly paid tithes, but the public, and that they therefore need +the protection of the corn-laws as much as ever, I trust the legislature +will perceive that the corn-laws ought not to have been kept up thus +long, instead of fancying that they must be maintained yet longer.” + +“You are hard to please,” observed Jerom, with a grim smile. “Though a +landowner, you are no more fond of corn-laws than of tithes.” + +“I grant that you and I should find it difficult to settle which is the +worst,—for ourselves, and for the people at large. I only wish I could +make you, a clergyman, as discontented with tithes as I, a landowner, am +with corn-laws.” + +“Some people,” observed Jerom, “complain of tithes as being bad in a +deteriorating country; but you have been murmuring at their operation on +your father’s improving farm.” + +“For the good reason that tithes are injurious in the extreme, in either +case. In an improving country, where there is capital ready for +application, tithes are bad as discouraging the application of that +capital. Witness that pretty field of mine which must lie waste till I +can cultivate it without having all my profit swallowed up by the +church. In a deteriorating country, the tithe is bad, because it tempts +to the cultivation of inferior in preference to superior soils, and +raises wages, and augments, both in value and amount, with scarcity. +Witness its effects upon the Lamberts,—the poor ground they have sown +this year, and the better that they have let alone, and the general air +of deterioration caused by the higher price of labour. I am afraid +Peterson is plaguing them again about some new claim or another. He left +us long ago, and walked that way. He is fond of doing business with +them, because, as Quakers, they can offer no resistance. Shall we go and +see?” + +As was anticipated, Peterson was found worrying the Lamberts. Wherever +the axe and mattock were heard, there, as a matter of course, was +Peterson; and his quick ear had caught the sound of the chopping of wood +while Mr. Parker and Jerom were arguing. The Lamberts’ labourers were +busy in making faggots of a good deal of wood which had been cut some +time before; and of these faggots Peterson was claiming his share. + +“Do look at him!” said Parker. “He is going to measure trees, I do +believe, to see if they are of the required twenty years’ growth. He +carries his measure about with him, as a surgeon does his lancets.” + +“If thou wilt only go and ask any lawyer,” said Joseph, who was much +heated, “he will tell thee that thou hast no more right to the tops and +lops of our pollard oaks than thou hast to the tenth chamber of any +house. With all thy boast of law, thou mightest know that, I think. The +loppings are exempted as much as the bodies.” + +“We shall see that, friend. Meantime, I shall take leave to measure what +I call, in a legal sense, underwood, and you timber. You will please to +show me the beeches from which all this wood was cut.” + +“Thou mayst try and find them out. But, friend, I give thee notice that +it will do thee no good, if thou shouldst chance to find the right tree, +and that it is twenty-five inches in the girth. Thou hast apparently +forgotten some purposes that wood may be cut for.” + +“By no means; but you cannot deny that these ash-poles are for sale to +Mr. Parker for his hops, and these faggots for the market.” + +Mr. Parker denied that he meant to purchase any ash-poles of the +Lamberts; and Joseph declared that the faggots were for use on the farm. +Peterson would not believe it, so great as the quantity was. Was he to +believe that these half-dozen men, all chopping and binding, as if to +supply the parish with fuel, were merely preparing wood for farm +purposes? + +“Yes: we have to burn bricks; and, in this rainy season, there is no +time to be lost. And now, friend Peterson, art thou satisfied?” + +“By no means, till I know what the bricks are for. They may be for +sale.” + +“They are for enlarging our house on the Abbey Farm.” + +“Enlarging. Hum. Not repairing. If it had been mere needful reparation, +the wood for burning the bricks would not, as you say, have been +titheable. But enlarging is a different matter, as my book will show +you. You must set out tithe of this billet wood, and these tops and +lops.” + +“I assure thee, it is not for our pleasure, or for any purpose of +vanity, that we are going to enlarge our house. Indeed, the times are +not suited to such an intention. We are merely preparing to receive a +family of orphans who have no other home to look to.” + +Peterson had nothing to do with this. Sir William Hood was not to suffer +for there being orphans in the parish. + +“Cannot you contrive, now,” asked Mr. Parker, “to tithe these orphans, +as well as the wood that is to burn the bricks that are to build them a +dwelling? If there happen to be ten of them, I dare say Mrs. Lambert +will not grudge one of them to the church.” + +Joseph could have made a long and eloquent reply to this; but he was +particularly anxious not to detain the tithe-gatherer, lest any accident +should lead the conversation round to his precious ewes, so as to put +Peterson upon missing them from their accustomed places. He briefly said +that he and his brother should, as usual, decline to set out tithe of +wood; and if the agent chose to seize it, the proceeding must be at his +own risk. He took up a hatchet, and made noise enough to show his +troublesome visitor that no more conversation was desired. There was no +use in entering with the Lamberts on the subject of a sale of their +tithes, as their principles forbade their admitting the right to levy a +tax for the support of religion. + +Mr. Mackintosh could not bend his spirit to a compromise. His tithes +must be taken by seizure, if at all, so long as he remained at the +rectory. Others were more ready to compromise,—particularly those who +wished to free land of their own from an interference which made them +feel very much as if the land was not their own; but there was so much +trouble in settling the averages, in agreeing about the deductions, and +determining the proportions according to the longer or shorter term of +years for which the purchase was to be made, that, before it was over, +all parties began to wish that some principle had been established for +general guidance;—that, in a case so peculiar, the negociators could +have been assisted and protected by government sanction. + +There was no hope of the vicar’s becoming such a negociator, when a +reduction of 20 per cent. in consideration of contingencies, had once +been mentioned as one of the grounds of an agreement. He would never +consent to surrender any of the dues of the church,—more especially as a +letter from a lawyer this day gave high hopes that the authority of the +church was about to be vindicated by the issue of his lawsuits with his +parishioners being in his favour. This was an encouragement to his +firmness and zeal which he could not disregard. + + + + + CHAPTER VII. + + DIMISSION. + + +Two of the law-suits were soon decided. The vicar lost that which +related to the Abbey Farm, and gained that which disputed the reality of +the composition by which the defendant declared the glebe-land belonging +to the vicarage to be held. The defendant firmly believed that the +evidence of this composition existed; though, from its never having been +disputed before, it had been taken no care of; and to lose the cause and +pay the new claim of tithe would, he found, be a less expensive process +than recovering the evidence on which his defence must be based. He +declared that he should assert to his dying day that the vicar, like +many another litigious priest, paid himself twice over, keeping the land +and taking the tithe. The parishioners only waited, it was said, for the +decision of the third cause, to toll the bell, and give their pastor his +second warning of the consequences of making war against his flock. + +There were now, however, some peace-makers in the parish,—five little +peace-makers, who might be seen on a Sunday, walking hand in hand, all +in a row; three of them in sleek brown coats and overshadowing drab +beavers, and two in plain white frocks and close straw bonnets. The +parties between whom quarrels ran highest were united in showing +kindness to these orphans. The new rooms at the farm being yet scarcely +begun, many friends of the widow Lambert wished to take in the children +till she could comfortably accommodate them. Mrs. Byrne begged hard for +one of the boys, if he would not mind sleeping in the little bed that +Miss Alice had had good rest in, many a time. It would be an amusement +to her husband, who had been much out of spirits of late; and the little +gentleman would be a companion for Miss Alice when she came to watch the +bees, and do what she liked with the garden. Mrs. Beverly thought that +she and her maid could make the two girls happy, by setting them to work +upon some extraordinary patchwork, and to play with the baby-house which +had been Mrs. Beverly’s amusement on birth-days when she was their age; +but Mrs. Beverly spoke too late; the girls were already promised to the +vicarage. + +Well; she and her maid would have liked the girls best; but, since they +were engaged, they thought they could manage the two little ones,—the +youngest now running alone very prettily. But Mrs. Lambert could not +part with them all; and those she kept must be the two little ones, who +could sleep in her room. With her they therefore staid; and whenever +they had the rare luck of a fine morning, this rainy season, they might +be seen, the one trotting at cousin Joseph’s heels, in loving company +with the dog, and the other riding to the field on cousin Charles’s +shoulder. + +“Mother,” said Charles, on the day of their arrival, when he had +succeeded in stopping Rachel’s tears,—the tears of the stranger,—by +employing her to sew a button upon his gaiter,—“Mother, dost thou not +think that people may be too tender-hearted sometimes?” + +“Is thy mother too tender-hearted? Then I am afraid thou art too like +thy mother, Charles.” + +“I should not have been like thee to-day. If it is really right that +Rachel and Margaret should go to the vicarage, I am glad that the vicar +did not fall in with me on his way here. I should have refused his +offer; and, I really think, so wouldst thou, but for the thought how the +children would enjoy one another’s company.” + +“I do not see what harm can befal them at the vicarage. It is a very +sober place. At least, I never heard of any dissipation that was going +on there; and the vicar reads the Bible in the family every day. They +will not have any gaiety beyond gardening with Alice, and playing with +her old doll. Will they?” + +Charles was thinking of something quite different from this. He could +not have brought himself to accept a favour for these children from one +who had conducted himself as the vicar had done. + +“Well, now, son, I do not see much reason in that speech of thine. If +the vicar has done ill by us, why should we hinder his doing better by +somebody else? I am afraid there is a little pride in thy objection. +What dost thou think?” + +“Perhaps there is some pride; but I do not much value the kindness of +one who can be so hard as he has shown himself in many instances. I +should be apt to think it flattery.” + +“Not in this man. He cannot flatter; and where he has been most wrong, +he thinks himself right. Ay; it is a strange delusion; but I think him +as sincere as he thinks me,—and thou knowest what reason he has to think +that. Dost thou know, I felt glad of the opportunity of letting his +people see how well he means, and what kind things he does when he is a +Christian; that is, when nothing puts him in mind that he is also a +churchman.” + +Charles was once again surprised at the deceitfulness of the human +heart. He was actually wishing to return evil for evil when he thought +he was consulting the dignity, (or other welfare,) of the children. He +would take them down himself to the vicarage, and go in to make his +acknowledgments on their behalf to the vicar. + +No children could be happier than Rachel and Margaret during their +stay;—patronised by Alice, stroked on the head by the vicar, kept in no +more than due order by Susan, visited by aunt Martha, invited by Mrs. +Beverly to make patchwork and play with the babyhouse; smiled at by Miss +Fox and all her school when they passed in the lanes; and allowed to +gather peas for Mrs. Byrne, when they went to her cottage to see +Jonathan. A long-expected day was, however, approaching, which was to +throw into shade all other days of delight. + +Alice had not yet been permitted by Mr. Mackintosh to make hay on his +lawn. Last year, indeed, she had felt herself too old and too proud to +ask the favour. Finding herself, from her parentage, shunned by other +people in her neighbourhood who were liable for tithes, she had not yet +attained her wish of once more handling a rake, and tedding the +sweet-smelling grass. This year, however, there was a prospect,—if the +sun would but shine so as to give the grass a chance of being dried. Mr. +Pratt, whom her father had conquered at law, was to pay his dues to the +vicar direct, and not through Peterson; and Alice persuaded her father +to prefer the tenth haycock, to be prepared and carried at his own cost, +to the twelfth, delivered at the loft. She and her five little friends +could almost make the hay: and O! the anticipations of the day! Rachel +and Margaret could never be sufficiently instructed and enlightened as +to what they were to do and to expect; and Susan had no rest till she +had promised buns and a bottle of cider, to be eaten and drunk upon a +haycock. The farmer took them by surprise with his notice at last, and +no buns were ready: but Susan promised that the young folks should not +die of famine in the hay-field, but that something eatable should follow +them at noon. She shrewdly perceived that this would be the more +necessary, as the children could eat but a small breakfast. They sat +still, and looked calm, as little quakers should: but they had not much +appetite. + +“How hot the sun is here!” cried Alice, laying her hand on the +window-shutter, which had been but too little noticed by the sun this +year. “Come and feel, Rachel! That sun will do for hay-making, if any +will.” And she stood on tip-toe, peeping over her papa’s shoulder, to +see how much tea he had forgotten to drink while absorbed in his book. + +She whispered to her companions that they might go and get ready, and +that they should not have to wait for her long. Because she whispered, +her papa heard her. He looked round him, and particularly at the room +door, as if wondering whether that slam was its own: then gulped down +his tea, and desired the dear child to go and make herself happy. + +“But, papa, you are going with us.” + +Impossible! What could the dear child be thinking of? There was an +absolute necessity for his clearing up a doubtful point which he had +promised uncle Jerom to solve; and he expected letters—— + +“Ah! about that law-suit that makes everybody so rude to you! I wish you +would not have any more of those law-suits. People would like you much +better if you would go and make hay. Let this be the very last law-suit, +papa.” + +She could not wish this more than he did. If his people would only not +fail in their duty to the church, he should be the last person in the +world to resort to law. + +“Well, but do make hay, at any rate, papa.” And before her long string +of good reasons was fully drawn out, Rachel and Margaret were standing, +side by side, before the vicar, ready to say— + +“We wish thou wouldst go.” + +The vicar had seldom known Alice so eager and urgent; and if it would +really spoil the dear child’s pleasure that he should be absent, he +would put off his gown, and put on his coat, and go. It was particularly +inconvenient. He thought he must carry his book in his pocket, and read +in the shade + +“But thou wilt let us topple thee,” remonstrated Margaret. + +This might be determined in the field. He supposed this was Alice’s +inducement to press him so earnestly to go. Here his opposition ceased. +He remembered how perpetually he was thwarting his daughter’s desire +that he should stay at home after dark, and resolved to gratify her much +more reasonable wish that he should walk abroad in the morning sunshine. +He was ready nearly as soon as she, and only stipulated for being +allowed to go whither he pleased, when he had been “toppled” to their +full satisfaction. + +It was indeed a glorious day,—a day of more genial sunshine than had +been seen during the season,—the first day which a kindly shepherd would +acknowledge to be warm enough for the washing and shearing of his flock. + +“Look, look!” cried Rachel, who had run on before the rest of the party. +“What are those cruel people doing to the sheep? I do believe they are +going to drown the sheep in the pond! Canst thou not make haste and +prevent them?” + +Alice looked rather contemptuously on the town-bred child, and was +anxious to lead her companions round by another way;—not that any one +could enjoy a sheep-washing more than she; but she dreaded that further +disputes about tithe, and more hatred to her father might arise out of +his being present at the shearing. She need not have hoped to prevail, +however. Her father stalked on, unconsciously resuming his official air; +and the little girls were too anxious to know what became of the sheep +to think of staying behind. + +It was a great relief to discover that the sheep came out safe at the +other side of the pool; and that the dogs, however much noise they might +make, did not eat the poor animals. The men and boys, too, looked merry; +and presently Charles was seen giving his baby cousin a ride on a +sheep’s back into the water; which feat would hardly have taken place +amidst any desperate intentions towards the flock. Margaret next +concluded that all this was pure play. + +“I am sure cousin Joseph told me that old Sam had no time to play with +me, and that nobody had time to play at the farm till afternoon; and +there they are,—cousin Joseph, and old Sam, and plenty more, playing +with brothers, though they will not with us, Rachel.” + +“I don’t think it is any fun to the sheep,” observed Rachel. “They bleat +as loud as the dogs bark. But I never saw such large sheep in my life. +Look at that big thing, standing dripping on the grass! Didst thou ever +see such a fat creature, Margaret?” + +“It will be thin enough presently,” said Alice, “when the shearers have +cut off all that load of wet wool. Come, now, you have seen all you can +see. Let us go over this slope, where we can get as many cowslips as we +please, instead of passing all those people.” + +The little girls had not, however, seen half as much as they wanted. +They wished to make out whether there was any soap in the pool to wash +the wool so white; and they were willing to take the chance of a ride +into the water; and desired to persuade their brothers to go on to the +hay-field with them. Alice perplexed them with signs that she wished to +pass on. + +“Thou squintest thy eye,” observed Margaret. “What dost thou mean?” + +“Never mind now,” replied Alice, somewhat sharply. “It is too late now. +If you had minded me a little more than the sheep, papa would not have +thought of anything but going straight on.” + +“Art thou afraid of that man? He is not gaylooking,” remarked Rachel. +“He would see much better if he would come on this side the hedge, +instead of prying.” + +Alice now saw the man whom Mrs. Byrne disliked as a companion for her +husband, peeping through the hedge, and evidently watching the vicar, +while he handled the fleece of one and another of the flock, and looked +on more like a proprietor than a spectator. She ran down to tell her +father,—she scarcely knew why: but he was then too busy to attend to +her. + +“Halloo, parson, what are you about?” cried one of the many who had long +ago put away all pretence of respect in addressing their clergyman. +“There is nothing about them sheep belonging to you.” + +“How so, friend? You are going to shear the flock, I see.” + +“Ay: but this flock belongs to another parish. They are only brought +here to be washed. You will find, for once, that some things are out of +your reach.” + +The vicar argued the point for some time; could not understand the case; +must send Peterson to see into it; had been struck with the +non-appearance of his tithe of lambs this season; and should expect the +Lamberts to reconsider the matter, and employ somebody to set out the +tithe of wool before he should pass that way again in the evening, if +they would not do it themselves. He should be firm, as they had found, +on other occasions, he could be. + +Alice persuaded him to leave the rest of his argument to be finished in +the evening, and ventured to tell him, as soon as he began to walk away +with her, that she thought, and so did Mrs. Byrne, that the Lamberts had +taken that bit of land in the next parish for the very purpose of +putting titheable produce out of his reach. If he would ask no more than +was asked in the next parish, he would not be altogether cheated of his +lambs and his wool in this way. As usual, she was told that she knew +nothing about the matter. She was sorry for it. She wished she could do +some good. It was much wanted. When she now looked behind her, she saw +that many were laughing at the Lamberts’ victory, and some sneering at +her father; and the renewed shouts and barkings and bleatings seemed to +have something of mockery in them. + +No one was to be found behind the hedge when Alice would have pointed +out the peeper: but the grass of the dry ditch was laid in a way which +showed that some one had been stretched at length there. The vicar was +not surprised. Bread was so dear, this year, and wages in consequence so +high, that a great many people were out of employment. He had never +before seen so many idle people lying about in the fields on dry days, +and under sheds in wet weather: and Alice was aware that in no former +season had the vicar’s alms been so liberally distributed. + +“O dear! they have half made the hay, I do believe. See how busy they +are!” cried Alice, when her party came in sight of the gay scene where a +long row of men and women were tedding the grass; the women with their +gowns tucked up, and their arms made bare, and the men uncoated, and +frequently resting their rakes against their shoulders to wipe their +brows. The usual pastimes of the hayfield were going on. Children were +shouting with delight, and rolling one another in the grass, or +pretending to make hay with rakes far too unwieldy for their strength; +while the bigger girls who were sitting under the shade of the hedge +with babies on their knees, looked on enviously, and began to wonder +whether their charge would not be very safe sprawling on the ground. +Baskets and cans helped to make a show in the corner with the discarded +coats, and the dog that sat as guard, perking its head at every noise, +and looking fully satisfied with its own importance. + +This dog alone seemed to undergo no alteration when the vicar entered +the field. The first hay-maker who saw him sent the news along the line, +and laughter gave place to instant silence. It came full into every +one’s recollection that this gentleman would claim a tenth of the fruits +of this day’s toil. Byrne was only one of many whose wages were tithed. +The children got up from among the hay, and stared at him,—each with +thumb or finger in its mouth. They had seen a pretty little chicken, or +a yellow gosling taken from the rest of the brood, in the vicar’s name. +The boys stood in greater awe of him than the girls; for some wag had +told them that they had better take care how they played when the vicar +was abroad, lest he should tithe their marbles. The deputy nurses under +the hedge elbowed each other, and laid their heads together to whisper. +They were telling how grandfather taught them where to put the eggs they +found among the nettles, and never, on any pretence, to count them; and +how uncle forbade them ever to tell how many pigs the sow farrowed of; +and how it was a shocking thing for a gentleman to pretend to give +charity, when all he had to give came, mammy said, out of the labour of +people quite as poor as some he gave to.—The party from the vicarage +soon saw that there was no fear of the vicar’s hay being made for him. +There lay the grass, untouched. Moreover, it might be observed that no +hay was allowed to remain where the vicar walked. As soon as he +approached, the labourers turned a shoulder or back towards him, and +whisked away the hay, so as to leave him standing alone. He could not +help feeling this, and, as usual, he tried to conciliate by kind words: +as usual, he received impertinent answers, and, as usual, comforted +himself with the thought that he was suffering for conscience’ sake. + +In these circumstances, it would not do to let himself be “toppled.” +Rachel and Margaret were told that they must not expect it. They, +therefore, began to look about for rakes, in order to obtain the second +best amusement in their power. + +“Papa, what shall we do for rakes?” asked Alice. “The last time I made +hay, Byrne lent me a rake, and I thought we should certainly find rakes +with the hay.” + +“Dear child, we should have thought of that. It is a negligence of ours; +for the fair construction of the law is that the parson, or endowed +vicar, should, in making his own hay, provide the instruments necessary +for making it. But these people have doubtless rakes to spare, and will +lend them.” + +He tried whether it was so. He was sure the labourers must have rakes to +spare.—They looked at one another, and nobody made answer.—He was sure +they would not let Alice be disappointed;—Alice came to make hay.—No one +looked up.—That little boy appeared very tired with trailing his long +rake; perhaps he would lend it to Alice till he had rested himself.—The +child began, at his mother’s bidding, to make hay more diligently than +ever. + +“See, dear child——” the vicar was beginning to say, when Alice came up +to entreat him to ask no more favours. She had far rather not make hay +to-day: indeed, she did not wish it.—This was more than Rachel and +Margaret could, for their part, aver. There is no saying what aunt +Lambert would have thought, if she had seen how nearly they were crying. +The vicar perceived it, and, advising them to sit down and rest +themselves during his absence, said he was going in search of rakes, and +would bring some from the shop, if not from a nearer place, within an +hour. + +They did not rest themselves so much as a minute and a half. They began +showering grass upon one another: but, the very instant that the vicar +disappeared from the field, more rakes were offered than they could use. +“Papa! Papa!” cried Alice, in hopes of bringing her father back: but one +of the women held up her finger in a very forbidding way; and Alice saw +that if she was to hope for hay-making, she must leave papa uncalled +for. She almost wished now that he would not return. + +He did return, however, when the work was far advanced. Upon his own +shoulder he brought three rakes, which he offered,—not to the Quaker +boys, who had arrived and were eager for them,—but to the labourers or +their children who had accommodated Alice and her friends. But they lay +disregarded till the Quaker boys were allowed to take them up, because +it was clear that no one else would. + +The little folks had been offered some of the contents of the baskets +and cans; but had declined eating and drinking till they should have +made something like a haycock on which to sit and refresh themselves. +Just in the right point of time, appeared a messenger from Susan, with a +savoury-smelling basket, and two cool-looking green bottles. + +“I am sure we may make our cock now,” said Alice. “These people have +made some of theirs, you see, before they sat down to dinner.” + +“And we can spread it out again afterwards, if it is not dry,” Margaret +observed. + +“Dost thou find thyself hungry with seeing those people eating in the +corner?” Rachel inquired. + +So the basket was unpacked by some, while others drew the grass together +near the hedge, and piled it up till it appeared the largest in the +field. + +“One, two, three,—seven,—nine,—yes, papa, ours is the tenth haycock. Do +not you think there will be another for us to make? Do not you think +there will be ten more at the other end of the field?” + +The vicar feared that the remaining grass would be made into seven, +eight, or nine cocks, to avoid paying the church its due.—Alice was +immediately anxious to change the subject; and she made a prodigious +bustle,—calling one to sit here, and pushing down another there, and +raising the youngest little fellow, in the nankeen frock, to sit on the +top of the haycock, as on a throne. While she was carving the pie, the +child called out “Man! man!” + +“Yes, dear; a great many men, and a great many women too,” said Alice, +over her task, supposing the child was amused with the circle of +labourers. + +Her father had not sat down. He was contemplating, perhaps calculating, +the size of the field. His back was therefore turned to the party of +merry children. The next moment came something which stunned them like a +thunder-bolt,—the report of fire-arms as if among them,—as if out of the +haycock. They sat immoveable, for a second or two, till the vicar, who +seemed to be balancing himself on his feet, staggered, fell sideways, +and rolled over on his face. None who heard Alice’s shriek ever forgot +it. She alone started up; her companions sat mute; the haymakers were +all looking, but they did not come. How the poor thing pulled her +father’s arm, in the attempt to raise him! How the complaining sound “I +can’t! I can’t!” went to his heart,—which had not ceased to beat. He +tried to turn himself, and did so. + +“Turn me, dear child; do not raise me,” he said. + +“Come, come! O, why don’t you come?” cried Alice, waving her arms +towards the haymakers. Her companions joined her in shouting for help; +and, at length, several men came forward. Nobody asked who had done +this; but one offered to go for the doctor, and another for her uncle +Jerom, and a third for Susan. Her father himself settled what should be +done. His brother and the surgeon were to be summoned, and he would not +be removed till they came; only propped up with hay, so as to breathe a +little more easily. He asked if any one knew who had done this? + +“It is more like you can tell than I,” observed the man he seemed +particularly to address. “Perhaps you may recollect having offended +somebody.” + +Alice sprang to the child on the haycock, and asked where he had seen a +man just now. The child pointed to the other side of the haycock. +Somebody had been crouching there; and he must have entered and departed +through a hole in the hedge, which seemed to have been made for the +purpose. + +Half a dozen of the haymakers passed through this hole; but they all +came back with the same story,—that no trace of any person was to be +found in the next field. Alice believed, in her impatience, that she +could have found the murderer if she had been the pursuer; but who but +she would chafe her father’s clammy hands, and pass an arm beneath his +head, and fan him as his faintness increased? While listening, in hope +that he would speak, a distant sound smote her heart,—the tolling of the +church-bell. Her father felt the throb of her heart, and smiled as he +said, + +“It is not so, dear child. They are not tolling for me before I am dead. +It is the lawsuit—I was aware—I expected a letter to-day, you know.” + +“O yes; and I brought you out. I made you come here when you wished to +stay at home,” cried she in agony. + +“My dear child, it would have happened to-morrow if not to-day. It would +have happened in my pulpit if not in this hay-field, Alice. Times and +seasons are not in our hands, my child.” + +The surgeon soon came, and pronounced that his patient had judged +rightly in refusing to be removed. There were several hours of daylight +left.—Every one felt that this was the same as saying that the vicar +could not live till sunset. + +Half the parish were in the field before Jerom appeared. Every one +looked grave, and some changed countenance on witnessing Alice’s +despair; but there was no expression or semblance of grief for the +approaching departure of their pastor. Everything was done that could be +done; but more as an office of humanity than of affection. This was not +lost on the dying man, and must have caused him the keenest pang of +all.—He eagerly welcomed Jerom; for he had much to say to him. + +“This is a sad ending of my ministry,” said he; “but it is by no means a +new thing for Christ’s ministers to die in upholding the rights of his +church. God knows I have always been willing; but I grieve, (may he +pardon me!) that he has seen fit to make crime the instrument.” + +“Can we forgive the criminal?” + +“I do from my heart, and have long done so. Yes. I thought it would end +in this way, and prepared for it, as you will see when you come to +undertake the charge of Alice. You will go home with her, Jerom, and +stay till she has to leave the vicarage. See that she has her full +right,—that she stays till she has fulfilled the month’s warning of my +successor, after his induction. Do not let her remove a day earlier than +the law obliges her. I am urgent about this, because I believe the +people will run riot against the church as soon as I am gone; and I am +anxious that all decencies and proprieties should be observed.” + +Jerom promised. + +“I have left enough, I trust, for her support; and I bequeath to you the +corn and other crops in the ground. If my successor should be inducted +before the severance of any crops in which he has an interest, you will, +of course, aid him in recovering his dues, as you would aid me. If not +inducted till after severance, he may be spared the battle till next +year. But, Jerom, be mindful that the clergy must fight, side by side, +like brothers, in the present fearful state of the church, when its +rights are evaded, and its claims mocked at, and its ministers murdered +in the scene of God’s bounties!” + +Jerom checked his vehemence; and the dying man presently declared +himself willing to leave the care of the church in the hands of Him who +founded it. He died without one suspicion that the church for which he +had sacrificed himself was not indeed the church of Christ in all its +parts, as much as in the name which it has dared to assume. Not a doubt +entered his mind that his devotion to his office and its claims was not +of the true apostolical character. It never occurred to him, that he or +his church might be answerable for the degradation of Christianity and +the deterioration of morals in his parish. + +He died,—just as the sun was declining over the scene of God’s bounties, +as the vicar had truly described this place. There was a joyous +twittering of birds in the hedges, and the light breeze which fanned the +hair of the dead man brought sweet scents to those who surrounded him. +The cattle in the meadows rose from their grassy couch, and moved +homewards as the shadows of the willows lengthened. The sheep that had +been shorn stood bleating on the slope, or beside the pool, as if +wondering why the shearers had left them alone after stripping them of +the fleeces that lay strewed upon the grass. The old church looked +beautiful, dressed in ivy, and brightened with the latter sunshine, and +overshadowing the tombs around it. Yet this fair scene was one of +misery. The very church-bell was tolled in malice. The hedge concealed a +murderer. The milk-maids and the shearers were gone to gaze with more +awe than love on the passing away of him who should have taught them a +better evening thanksgiving than this. If there was any acknowledgment +of God and his bounties, it was in one or two who made it in humiliation +rather than in joy. What kind of Christianity could have been here +taught, producing such a result as this?—a Christianity mixed up and +defiled with superstition and worldliness; and which could therefore no +more bring forth the peaceable fruits of righteousness than a sun in +eclipse can shed broad day. + +As the body was carried home, all the people who had not been in the +field came out of their houses. Mr. Mackintosh was seen standing at his +gate, looking grave, but unmoved. He had something to say on the +occasion, though there was less of triumph in his tone than some who +knew him would have expected. + +“This comes of making a clergyman a revenue officer,” he muttered. “Poor +Hellyer might have made a very good clergyman, or a very good revenue +officer; but it is beyond any man’s power to be both, without betraying +the one trust or the other.” + +His housekeeper appeared,—tearful,—to ask leave to bring Miss Alice into +the house. She ought not to be in such a crowd as that, in all her +grief, and none of her friends with her.—Leave was eagerly given: but +the housekeeper hesitated. + +“Why don’t you go? Do not lose a moment.” + +“If I was sure, sir——if you would promise not to be very ready to tell +Miss Alice that there is no chance of her meeting her father any more——” + +“Certainly not. Certainly not. I am not clear on the point myself, and +never professed to be so. It is only when they build up upon their +absurd superstitions——But go.” + +Alice was brought in, and was not long without a friend by her side. +Mrs. Lambert, who had been too far off to hear the news, had observed +from the high summerhouse the crowd just leaving the field, and moving +along the road. She had hastily descended, and had joined the people +just as they were passing the church,—just in time to hear the remarks +upon the tolling of the bell. + +“Ay; that’s for the gaining of his lawsuit,—and’ much good it will do +him now! They say he was loth to come abroad this morning, because he +expected good news of his lawsuit.” + +“He did worse in beginning that lawsuit than in coming abroad this +morning. “’Tis my opinion that it was that lawsuit that killed him.” + +“Did ye hear his order about the wool-tithe, as he went by the pool this +morning? So proud! He desired it might be set out for him against he +came back.” + +“I hope, friend,” Mrs. Lambert had observed, “that thou art observing +these things rather as a lesson on the frailness of life, than as +taunting the departed.” + +The man thought that if the vicar had been paid like the dissenting +ministers of the next town, and had given himself up to his office, +without extorting tithes, his life would have been no more uncertain +than any other man’s. He should not say this the less now that the vicar +was being carried dead before him, than he had always said it when the +vicar was standing up in the pulpit on Sundays, or handling fleeces on +Mondays. + +Where were all Alice’s friends?—Uncle Jerom was following the body. Mrs. +Byrne was nowhere to be seen. It was many days before she visited Alice; +and when she came, she could do nothing but weep. Mrs. Byrne was +remarked by every one to be an altered woman from that day. + +Byrne was in the crowd; but Alice was afraid of him, and always kept out +of his way. Charles and Joseph were in pursuit of the murderer,—whom, +however, they could not find. It is believed to this day, that he was +harboured by some one in the neighbourhood; or he could not have evaded +the strict search instituted by the magistrates, as soon as the event +became known to them. + +“I am glad you are come, Mrs. Lambert,” said Mr. Mackintosh, when she +made her appearance, after delaying a moment to recover an appearance of +calmness. “I am glad you are come. We do not know what to do with this +poor child.” + +“Thou hast not the heart to attack her faith at such a moment; and thou +dost not know how to speak on matters of faith, but in the way of +attack. Is that it, friend Mackintosh?—I agree with thee, that there is +no worldly comfort which will to-day soothe this poor child.” + +“All you say about my fondness for attack may be very true; but see +whether it has half the effect in this parish of the superstition of its +pastor,—or of the system which made him its pastor:—I care not which may +claim the honour of doing most mischief.” + +“I grant that thy principles have led to no murder here, and that the +vicar would have been wise to ask himself, while censuring thee, whether +he was not playing thy game for thee better than thou couldst do it for +thyself. But, friend, that is no excuse for thy being as intolerant to +others as the church has been to thee. Between you, religion (or, as +thou wouldst say, morals) has had so little chance, that I would not +advise either of you to boast of the other’s delinquencies, lest the +argument should end in the display of thine own.—I will only just +mention the name of Byrne, as a sanction to my charge.” + +“You do not think he is the——” And Mr. Mackintosh’s countenance now +showed some emotion. + +“I have heard no one named as the murderer,” Mrs. Lambert quietly +replied. + +Mr. Mackintosh presently repented having allowed Alice to be brought in. +It made him completely wretched. Whether her grief was ungovernable, as +at first, or mild and reasonable, as it was when Mrs. Lambert had been +with her awhile, it was equally painful to him. He could do nothing with +minds but question and taunt them; and here, where the mind was too +childish to be questioned to any purpose, and too much harassed to allow +of taunting, there was no inducement to him to bear to witness the +suffering. When he was tired of being first ashamed of his own +helplessness, and then of being cross with his housekeeper, (who would +not quarrel with him, because she saw he was trying to carry off some +troublesome tenderness) he seized his hat, and walked out.—Mrs. Lambert +observed, that he went in the direction of Byrne’s cottage. + + + + + CHAPTER VIII. + + BENEFIT OF CLERGY. + + +Sir William Hood (who was travelling abroad) supposed, like everybody +else, that the vicar was alone to blame for what had happened. Nobody +but those on the spot,—none but the sufferers,—dreamed of finding fault +with the system under which precisely the same grievances might recur. +They saw but too well that the virtues of the clergyman must, under such +a system, injure himself or them. If his virtues were like those of the +late vicar, centring in zeal for the church, he would oppress the parish +as the late vicar had done. If they consisted of disinterestedness and +mercy, they must injure himself in his worldly interests. The same +temptations must also again beset the parishioners;—temptation to +withhold the extreme dues of a moderate pastor, and to defraud a strict +one. The sufferers agreed, in short, with him who said of the tithe +system, “It has made the clergyman’s income to fall with his virtues, +and to rise with his bad qualities; just as it has made the parishioner +to lose by being ingenuous, and to save by dishonesty.”—They mourned +over their liability to a repetition of their grievances; and their only +comfort was in the hope that Peterson would not be again appointed to +rule over them. + +In this hope they were not disappointed. It was thought fitting by the +ordinary and impropriator, that the circumstances of the scene should be +changed as much as possible, in order that future irritation might be +avoided; and Peterson received notice that his services would not be +required by the future incumbent. He quarrelled with the vicar’s +executor, before going out of office, respecting the amount of rent due +for tithes received up to the day of the owner’s death, which +unfortunately left room for a dispute of this kind, from not having +happened on a quarter-day. The vicar’s tithes were collected in kind by +the churchwardens, for the benefit of the future incumbent, the services +of the curate being meantime paid out of the fund. Sir William Hood +appointed another agent to collect his tithes. + +During Jerom’s residence at the vicarage,—that is, during the few weeks +which Alice’s friends thought long enough for the assertion of that +dignity on which her father had bestowed some of his last thoughts,—it +occurred to many people that Jerom would like very much to be the future +incumbent of this vicarage.—Jerom did indeed wish it. The allotment of +new land, in which he had invested his share of the bounty, did not +answer. The tenant did not, he thought, cultivate it properly; and he +had no influence over the tenant, whom he had allowed to build on the +ground, and from whom he had no means of purchasing the new erections. +He was almost as poor as before he obtained the bounty; and could not +well have got through the year but for his brother’s legacy of the +little crops that were in the vicarage-ground.—He must get on, however, +on this little wealth, as well as he could; for the parishioners had no +intention of allowing anybody connected with the late vicar to be their +pastor. They gave Jerom to understand this very plainly. + +That wealth of his was indeed but small. The season turned out even +worse than was expected; and so generally, that its effects were felt by +every class in society. Wages had been rising all the year, and this +occasioned a further rise in the price of produce; and these things all +together proved to such as had eyes to see, the essential vices of the +tithe-tax. Never had there been a greater outlay with a smaller per +centage of gain to the cultivator than this season: never had tithe been +so expensive to him as this year, when he could least afford it: never +had the labourers, whose increased wages would not suffice to buy them a +sufficiency of bread, so enviously regarded the increase in the revenue +of the church;—an increase which arose from the same cause as their +privations. Many were now convinced who had not been convinced before, +that the bread-eaters of Britain pay a capitation tax to the church. The +average consumption of grain being commonly allowed to be equivalent to +a quarter of wheat a head, wheat pays a shilling a bushel as tithe, when +wheat sells at 80_s._; so that, at that price, the church exacts a +capitation-tax of 8_s._; it being clear that 72_s._ would be a +remunerating price to the grower, if he had no tithe to pay. Many now +allowed, who had not been fond of the subject before, that it is unjust +that the religion of little more than half the nation should absorb a +larger portion of the national resources, in proportion as these +resources fail. Many now hinted, that if the preachers of the gospel had +no power to feed the hungry with loaves in the wilderness, they ought +not to be entitled to exact larger tribute from their hearers, the more +their hearers hungered. + +There were many dreary days this autumn; but it was on one of the very +dreariest that Joseph ran out of the farm-house to invite his landlord +to shelter till the storm should be over. “Indeed,” he added, “we wish +particularly to speak to thee on a matter of some importance.” Mr. +Mackintosh was not so fond of a pouring rain as to be unwilling to let +his horse be led to a stable, and himself to a crackling wood fire, from +which orderly children moved away to make room for him. + +“I hope you have not heard of another suspected murderer,” said he. “I +am quite tired of receiving intimations on that head, convinced as I am +that we shall never be any wiser.” + +“We have nothing to say to thee of any new suspicion: but why shall we +never be any wiser?” + +“Because we all have a pretty clear notion that there are many who could +tell if they would: and if they have not told yet, notwithstanding the +fair opportunity that has been given them, and the high reward offered, +it is scarcely likely that they will change their minds now. Every new +information is meant to put us on a false scent, depend upon it. I hope +the people will leave off playing such a farce. We have all our own +guesses, I dare say, as to which was the fellow, and where he might have +been found the next night, and why a stranger should have been the one +to deal the blow. He considered himself perhaps, as others have done +before him, as filling an office like the hangman’s,—putting the finish +to a criminal.” + +“I call this unprofitable talk,” observed the plain Mrs. Lambert. “Wilt +thou hear the favour my sons have to ask of thee?” + +Mr. Mackintosh was not fond of being asked favours; but he could not +refuse to listen, in return for shelter, warmth, and good ale. The young +men were very urgent to be released from their agreement about the +Quarry Wood farm. Three years only of their lease had run; but their +losses had been so great that they earnestly desired to give it up. + +Mr. Mackintosh thought he had great reason to complain;—so much reason +that he did not feel himself bound to consider the interests of the +Lamberts in any such way as this. Was it not a subject of complaint that +the land was ill-managed? Might not any one see at a glance how far +inferior its condition was to that of the Abbey Farm? + +“And whose fault was that?” Charles asked. “Did it not arise from the +one being titheable, and the other, tithe-free?” + +“Which was known to thee when thou gavest thy money for it, I suppose,” +added the mother. + +“I would really advise thee,” interposed Joseph, “to find another tenant +who does not labour under our scruples regarding the tithe, and who has +therefore a better chance of making the undertaking answer.” + +“You seriously advise me. I really am much obliged to you, Mr. Joseph.” + +“I seriously advise thee,—for this reason: that if we do contrive to pay +thee rent, it can only be by cropping and exhausting the best land on +the farm in a manner which will not please thee, but to which we shall +be driven. Therefore, if thou canst find a capitalist who will +diligently set himself to contend about the tithe in a way which we, for +conscience sake, cannot do, it may be equally for thy interest and +ours.” + +“If you choose to find such an one, perhaps I may listen to what you +have to say.—But I won’t promise.” + +“Why? does it give thee pleasure to hold us to a bad bargain?” + +“Or to have my sons for tenants, perhaps,” said Mrs. Lambert, who +sometimes accused herself of being a partial mother.—Mr. Mackintosh +nodded at her, and said he had so little to complain of with respect to +the Abbey Farm, that he would offer this much;—to let the young men have +the Quarry Wood Farm rent-free for the remainder of the lease, they +bearing the charges on the land. + +They were obliged by this offer of compromise, but as far from hopeful +as ever. They had much rather give up the undertaking altogether: but +Mr. Mackintosh would go no further. He had every reason to believe that +the farm would not let rent-free, on condition of the tenant paying the +taxes, civil and ecclesiastical. + +The lease must run out before it changed hands, even at the risk of its +being left in bad condition,—half neglected and half exhausted. + +“Come, cheer up, sons!” said their mother. “Gloomy faces are not +becoming in us who profess to be more free of the world than some +others. You know I never encouraged high notions in you when we thought +we were growing rich; and I will not praise you for being low-spirited +while you are doing your best——” + +“For these children, as well as yourselves,” observed Mr. Mackintosh. + +“These children will grow up to take care of themselves, and help us in +turn, if we want help. And before that time, let us hope, other +Christians will find, as we do, that they can worship without taking the +bread out of one another’s mouths. There will be more people willing to +worship then, I fancy. My sons may live to see the gospel esteemed as +able to support itself as when Christ preached it.” + +“And you may live to see it, ma’am. It is an experiment which cannot be +very long delayed in this country,—as I believe a large majority of +thinkers agree in deciding, however they may differ as to what is +superstition and what is not.” + +“Thou wilt not find many who will agree with thee, friend, that there +must be superstition in believing in things unseen;—no, not if thou +shouldst live a thousand years. But thou art pretty secure of good +company in declaring some things to be superstition which were so a +thousand years ago,—such as asking in God’s name for gifts that are not +gifts, and setting up a priesthood in Christ’s name, when, if Christ +said one thing more plainly than another, it was that there should be no +more priesthoods.” + +“And to suppose that men will care for any matters of faith, be they +what they may, when the bread of these men is taken to uphold that +faith—it is folly!” + +“Worse folly than any faith can be, I agree with thee in thinking. This +is what we call shutting up the kingdom of heaven against men. It occurs +to me, friend, that though thou hast a taste for being singular, thou +art of the same mind with some who took these matters to heart very long +ago. I ask thy pardon for observing (I know thou dost not like to agree +with any thing in Scripture,)—that some one said before thy time and +mine, that the Lord is not pleased with offerings, such as thousands of +rams and calves of a year old. He had rather have justice and mercy. I +wish the church could be persuaded to go back to this old Scripture.” + + + + + ------------------------------------ + + London: Printed by WILLIAM CLOWES, Duke-street, Lambeth. + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + ILLUSTRATIONS + + OF + + _TAXATION._ + + --------------------- + + No. III. + + THE + + JERSEYMEN MEETING. + + =A Tale.= + + BY + + HARRIET MARTINEAU. + + + + + --------------------- + + + + + LONDON: + CHARLES FOX, 67, PATERNOSTER-ROW. + + --- + + 834. + + + + + LONDON: + Printed by WILLIAM CLOWES, + Duke Street, Lambeth. + + + + + THE + + JERSEYMEN MEETING. + + + + =A Tale.= + + + + BY + + + + HARRIET MARTINEAU. + + + + + --------------------- + + + + + LONDON: + CHARLES FOX, 67, PATERNOSTER-ROW. + + --- + + 834. + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + CONTENTS. + + CHAP. PAGE + 1. A Phenomenon 1 + 2. A Legacy 18 + 3. Life in Lambeth 40 + 4. The Phenomenon again 61 + 5. An Economical Project 76 + 6. Lessons in Loyalty 93 + 7. Harder Lessons in Loyalty 109 + + + + + THE JERSEYMEN MEETING. + + + + + CHAPTER I. + + A PHENOMENON. + + +The moral sense of some people is shocked by the sentiment that it is +pleasant to stand in safety on the shore to watch the effects of a storm +at sea; but perhaps none were ever found to dispute the pleasantness of +standing idle on the heights above a shore to watch the proceedings of +busy people at sea. There are parts of the coast of Jersey where this +luxury may be enjoyed in absolute perfection; where not only the +features of nature are full of beauty, but where the spectator is +unmolested by the presence of any less happy than himself, and where the +industry which he witnesses is sure of its due reward. + +Such a station is the height of Anne Ville, which overlooks the thriving +village of Gorey in Jersey. It is luxury to sit on the remains of the +Druidical temple there, and think of nothing less animating than the +congregation of objects near; the bay of St. Catherine behind, where +green lanes lead from the very brink of the tide, each to its own snug +farm-house and blossoming orchard on the hill-side, and the solitary +tower of Archirondel, surrounded on its rocky station by the blue waters +of the bay: close at hand, Geoffry’s rock, from which, instead of +criminals being cast into the sea, as it is said they once were, white +sea-birds take their flight, scared by the laughter of children near +their haunts: the noble castle of Mont Orgueil overhanging the waters, +and casting upon them the shadow of its ruined battlements, while its +mantle of ivy waves in the evening breeze:—the fishing village below, +sending out and receiving back the oyster boats which throng about the +pier in the season;—the villages on the distant coast of France, when +the western sun lights them up into brilliant contrast with the +intervening expanse of dark blue; and far beyond these, on the extreme +horizon, the dim cathedral of Coutances. To spend a May evening in the +centre of this scene is a luxury to a stranger whose heart is not, like +that of a native, in one of the farmhouses in the interior, or among the +oysters on the beach below. A stranger is pretty secure, however, of +having this Druidical seat to himself on a May evening. So many repairs +are wanted for the boats, so much sail-cloth and cordage is called for, +and so large a portion of supplies is required for the little market of +Gorey, towards the close of the oyster season, that the men are more +likely to be guiding their creaking carts through the bowery lanes, and +the maidens carrying down the hills the produce of their far-famed cows, +than to be looking abroad from the heights of Anne Ville. + +On such an evening, however, a few seasons ago, some one might be seen +keeping a look-out from the poquelaye, (as the Jersey people call a +Druidical remain like that at Anne Ville,) whom no one could doubt to be +a native. He was a young man of about twenty, whose sallow face bore +testimony to his diet being that of a Jersey farmhouse, while his +knitted garments pointed him out as the son of one of the thrifty dames +of the island who look suspiciously on all manufactures which threaten +to supersede the work of their own hands. Aaron le Brocq looked indolent +enough as he leaned with his elbows upon the great stone, and his dull +eye wandered over the ocean, never once lighting up when a sail caught +the yellow ray which slanted from the west: but Aaron came hither on +business. Never was cordage so much wanted as now; and Aaron’s stock of +hemp was exhausted; and day by day he came hither to watch for the +arrival of some one of the friendly vessels which must be on the way to +supply his need. There were barks innumerable within sight; but even +Aaron’s dull eye could perceive, almost at a glance, that none of those +near were what he wanted. Besides the native-built boats, there were +many English vessels sailing hither and thither. Several which had been +accustomed to navigate the broad, smooth Medway, were now tossing and +turning in the currents and eddies caused by the ridges of low rocks +which nearly surround the island, and have proved its surest defence +during the wars of the two countries between whose grasp it seems to +lie. French homeward-bound vessels were gliding between the shores; and +a few of other countries, bringing supplies as much needed as hemp, were +crossing Grouville Bay on their way to St. Heliers. Aaron would go to +St. Heliers too, in the morning, if he saw no vessel before dark which +might be supposed to come from the Baltic. He would go and learn what +other people thought of this scarcity of hemp. + +It is to be supposed that Aaron fell into a reverie about this projected +trip to the port, and that he was thinking more of the market-place or +custom-house of St. Heliers than of anything within ken on sea or land; +for he started as if at the touch of the conjuring rod that he was +taught to fear in his childhood, when his friend, Charles Malet, laid +one hand on his shoulder, while with the other he pointed southwest, +saying, + +“There will be no time for growing drowsy at the poquelaye after sunset +to-morrow, if yonder vessel be from Riga, as they say she is. She will +be in port as soon as we can get there, and perhaps we may find her +cargo all gone in the scramble.” + +Aaron was on his feet in a moment, wondering how his thoughts could have +wandered away so far from the Baltic as to let a sail from that quarter +cross the wide bay, and almost disappear behind La Roque Point +unperceived by him. But there were many things besides hemp which this +ship might be bringing to Jersey; tallow for the candles, or oil for the +soap which some of the islanders were enabled to manufacture for a far +larger market than their own; or corn for home consumption, while they +sent their own to England. This may seem to some an ingenious project, +designed to benefit the shipping interest. To permit ships from Russia +to sail by the coasts of England, and land their corn in Jersey and +Guernsey, from whence an equal supply has at last to be brought to +England, seems like a benevolent scheme to give employment to some who +would otherwise be paupers. It looks like an approach towards the +fulfilment of the aspirations of the ship-owner, that every +merchant-vessel should be permitted to sail three times round the island +of Great Britain before landing its cargo. But, for whomsoever the plan +was first devised,—whether for the ship or land owners of Britain,—its +effect is to enrich the inhabitants of Jersey and Guernsey at the +expense of the bread-eaters of England. These islands are exempt from +the bread-tax, as from all the bad taxes of Great Britain, except +tithes. Their inhabitants, being allowed to buy wheat, without +restriction, wherever they please, can purchase it at 45_s._ per +quarter, while that which their fields produce is bought by the English +labourer at some price between 60_s._ and 70_s._ The benefit which +accrues to the Jerseyman is the difference between the price he pays, +and that which he receives when the amount of duty is deducted;—a +benefit marked enough to induce him to call for supplies from a distant +shore, and to retain the merchants of his own port in his service. No +wonder that any foreign vessel which passed within sight of the heights +above Gorey might be supposed to be bringing corn to the port of St. +Heliers. No wonder that Aaron was bewildered in a manner which would +have stamped him a half-idiot in England, when a perfectly new incident +presently occurred. + +As soon as the sea became dusky in the twilight, the two friends turned +their backs upon it, in order to pursue their way to the dwelling of +Aaron’s father,—a small farmhouse in the valley on the other side the +first ridge of hills which stretched north and south. They had not +proceeded far over the down when they were accosted by a person whose +appearance excited their wonder, while his business surprised them yet +more. Scarcely half-dressed, and unattended, though he was blind, he was +a mystery to Aaron. + +“What sort of charity do you wish me to show you?” he asked, in answer +to the beggar’s petition. + +“What you please, sir,” replied the beggar: “but I have not had a morsel +to-day, and I have no place to lay my head in to-night.” + +“How happens that? I’m afraid you have displeased Mr. De la Mare?” + +“Mr. who, please, sir?” + +“Mr. De la Mare, the hospital governor. You don’t know who he is? How +came you here, then?” + +Malet had seen more of the world than Aaron. He suggested that the +beggar might have come over in some of the oyster vessels from Kent,— +perhaps even from London; and that he might never have set foot in St. +Heliers. + +Would he get into the hospital among the blind? Aaron would take him to +St. Heliers the next morning, and try to procure him admission. Stephen +did not exactly wish this. He could find his way about, and did not like +being shut up. If the gentleman would only bestow a little charity, that +was all he asked;—by charity, he meant a little money for present use. + +“But what will you do when it is gone?” asked Aaron. “You cannot work, I +suppose, without the use of your sight.” + +Stephen (for so the beggar called himself) had not been able to do a +stroke of work these ten years. He trusted to the charitable and humane +to take care of him. + +“But you will not take their charity. You refuse the hospital! I don’t +see what you would have.” + +“He would live by begging, I dare say,” observed Malet, by way of +elucidation. + +“What! by asking every day for bread! I never heard of such a thing.” + +Charles Malet had once been told that this was a very common thing in +England. Besides the number of poor who were admitted into charitable +houses, like those at St. Heliers, there were many who did not know, any +morning of the year, where they should rest at night. Aaron thought this +a miserable lot; but Stephen the beggar seemed wonderfully cheerful +under it. He did not look ashamed, as a native would have done, of his +being only half-clothed;—perhaps the not seeing his tatters had +something to do with this. He had certainly been humming a tune, as he +ambled along, when the young men were approaching him; and even now, +though he spoke of hunger, he seemed ready to break out into singing or +joking in the intervals of the piteous looks he assumed. Aaron, as a +matter of course, took him home, but felt rather uncomfortable in doing +so. He was afraid that his father might be displeased if it should turn +out that the beggar was playing off a hoax; and that his mother might be +alarmed if Stephen should prove a halfwit, or to be under a spell; and +Aaron could scarcely doubt the one or the other to be the case. He took +Stephen by the hand, however, and led him on; not failing to remark how +marvellously his charge happened to escape hurting his ill-shod feet +against the large sharp stones which lay in the road. + +An opportunity occurred of introducing the stranger to a part of the +family before reaching the farmhouse; an opportunity which Malet was the +first to discern. Jersey is a land of trotting brooks. As every dwelling +has hills somewhere near it, every dwelling has a stream within reach. +There was one at the bottom of Le Brocq’s orchard; and there were the +women of the family assembled this evening, when the young men crossed +the ridge and descended into the valley—assembled on an occasion of +great importance. It was the first day of washing week; and as washing +week came but twice a year, it was sure to be a busy time. The profusion +of snow-white caps spread on the grass formed the chief light in the +landscape, for the grey stone farmhouse, roofed with dark thatch, +nestled dimly among the trees; so that even if all had not been alike +mantled with ivy, the dwelling would scarcely have been discernible. The +brook was more heard than seen, and the high ferns on the opposite side +presented the appearance of a smooth green carpet. But few blossoms +remained in the orchard to distinguish it from the oak copse which +sheltered it towards the east. Little could be distinctly seen but the +heaps of linen on the bank, and the moving figures beside it. They were +the two daughters of Le Brocq, and a damsel, the servant at the +farmhouse. They were finishing their work for the night; and when Malet +ran down to them with a lover’s speed, he found Louise rising from her +knees beside the little pool which had been her station all day, and +declaring that she could see no longer, and that it was time to go home +to supper. Anna was meanwhile spreading more linen on the ferns, where +it might be bleached by the morning sun; and Victorine, the maid, put +the materials of their next day’s work in an appointed place, among the +roots of an old oak. The brook, meanwhile, rippled and splashed, +carrying down the defilements of soap which had offended it all day, and +washing out the pools in which the work had been performed. Stephen made +bold to ask his conductor what all this was about, and to declare what +shameful waste it would be thought in England to wash linen in a running +stream, where as much soap would be lost as would buy much of the linen. +Stephen was right; but this was a consideration which the Jersey people +had little occasion to regard. Their soap was not taxed either in its +materials or its manufacture; and few articles can be obtained with more +ease or less cost than soap, when this is the case. Any person in Jersey +was at liberty to buy oil or tallow direct from the Baltic ships in the +ports, without asking the leave of any custom-house officer. If he chose +to buy the cheap potash furnished by the interminable Russian forests, +he had no duty to pay. If he found sea-weed enough on the nearest shore +to supply this as well as other purposes, he was subjected to no other +interference than the injunction to cut it at the right season. He might +make his soap when and where, and in whatever quantities he pleased; and +the cost of it was next to nothing. No one there was obliged to sigh +either at his children’s dirt, or at the cost of keeping them clean. The +amount of soap used was little more thought of than that of the water +which ran past his own door. + +Stephen seemed much disposed to join the group beside the brook,—another +proof to Aaron that he was not aware of the state of his costume. He was +not allowed to descend, as he wished; but must submit to be led across a +back field, and through the orchard, that he might reach the house, and +be clothed before he was presented to the family. Aaron could not think +of showing him in a state of such degradation as that in which he had +found him. + +“Who is this?” inquired Le Brocq, who was drawing cider from the cask +which was niched near the door. “How can De la Mare let any one come to +such a pass?” Then, as Stephen came within hearing, the farmer told him +he should be welcome to supper and shelter for the night, and that he +might depend on being forwarded to St. Heliers the next morning. In an +aside, he desired his wife to fetch an old garment of his, wherewith to +clothe Stephen, instead of using any of Aaron’s good clothes for the +purpose. + +Mrs. Le Brocq wanted to know when the girls were coming. It was too dark +for them to see what they were about; and the soup was ready; and she +was sure Louise would be over-tired if she staid at her work so long. +She was comforted with the news that they would presently come in, and +that Malet was with Louise, to take care of her. + +By the time that Stephen was dressed, and seated somewhat nearer than he +liked to the great fire of vraic (a sea-weed which is used, first for +fuel and then for manure, in Jersey), the young washerwomen appeared. +Mrs. Le Brocq and Anna took charge of the supper table, while Louise, +who was, or was fancied to be, rather delicate, was tended by her lover, +and Victorine was at every one’s call, besides having to lay down a bed +for Stephen, as the hour of rest approached. + +Stephen seemed less disposed for mirth at the supper table than when he +was first met in his destitute condition. Hungry as he was, he could not +eat the soup, made of lard and cabbage, which the rest of the party +seemed to relish as if it had been made of gravy meat, and peas. After +many attempts, he gave it up; and was so nauseated that he had little +relish left for the bread, cheese, and cider with which Mrs. Le Brocq +compassionately supplied him. He was sensible of the incessant motion of +knitting needles all around him, in every interval of eating. All the +four women were indeed knitting when doing nothing else; and Stephen +felt rather awkward in the midst of so much industry. Nobody was very +merry; there seemed to be some cause of discontent among the party, +though Aaron showed that he was well pleased at the prospect of +obtaining on the morrow the materials which would enable him to supply +his customers with ropes. + +“I am glad some luck has befallen you,” observed the mother, “since +Charles is never to have any. I wonder whether there be another lad in +the island so shiftless as he; to have courted my Louise, and not have a +home to take her to.” + +Le Brocq shook his head and muttered; Charles looked abashed, and Anna +said, hesitatingly, and only loud enough for her sister and Charles to +hear, that such ill-fortune could not, she trusted, last long. Such a +thing had never happened before, she believed, as a sober man being +disappointed of a settlement three times over. She hoped it would please +God that the hand of the diligent should make riches, and that Charles +would not lose heart. + +Charles had lost heart many times lately; and now he left his supper +unfinished, and sat pondering the charms of the various cottages of +which he had missed the acquisition. He was not in poverty, being +employed with Aaron in ropemaking, but the parents of Louise would not +let him have her till he could take her to a home as comfortable as that +which she must leave. He began sometimes to fear that he should be sent +about his business, as being no proper match for Louise. Stephen made +such advances of sympathy as the little conversation enabled him to do. +He took up his glass of cider, and turning to Malet, begged to drink to +the young man “finding something to set his hand to,” and to his +“carrying the day with his lass, at any rate,” and he should be pleased +to be at the wedding. + +Malet thanked him kindly; and Stephen went on to suggest that it was a +thousand pities to lose heart and let the time go by. Charles should do +as people in England did, marry when the young lady was in the mind, and +see what would come of trusting. + +“And what comes of it in England?” inquired Malet, lending an attentive +ear. + +Stephen made rather a lame story of the happy consequences of this sort +of trust, except on the point that he was quite sure of,—that there was +always the parish to depend on at last. He helped out his explanation +with a song about love and banishing care, which Malet would have +ventured to praise very highly, but that Mrs. Le Brocq began to look +angry. She muttered something about seeing Charles, some day or other, +borrowing another man’s coat and craving another man’s supper, and then +singing songs about not caring. + +Charles showed by a gesture that there was the main difference between +Stephen and himself, that the one was blind and the other not. Le Brocq +was offended by his wife’s gross breach of hospitality; Louise was +crying; and all went wrong. Stephen took the liberty of beginning +another song by which he hoped to make every body laugh and grow +good-humoured; but before it had had time to operate, he was obliged to +break off by the entrance of some person whose horse he had heard stop +before the door. + +“If you are come to supper, Mr. Janvrin,” observed Le Brocq, “I am +afraid you will not enjoy yourself as we could wish. If you had come +half-an-hour earlier——” + +“I am come on business; and when I tell you that I was at St. John’s +this morning, and am now come from St. Martin’s, you will guess what I +am here for.” + +“Well; out with it! What is in hand now?” + +“Why, you know very well. You heard of the rate laid upon you and your +neighbours, for the help of the government in the new improvements.” + +“But I offered horse and cart and man for a week. That is enough for my +share, surely.” + +“For the new road. Yes. But the States call for money, too, as you must +be aware: and here is what you must pay,” showing his list. + +Le Brocq said something about the many calls on people for money in +these days,—what with daughters marrying, and governments making new +roads. Nevertheless, he sent Aaron for his money-bag, and counted out +the sum, while the tax-gatherer refreshed himself with the remains of +the supper. When Stephen heard the clink of the coin, he observed that +the people in his country would never submit to pay taxes in this +manner. It would be as much as the tax-gatherer’s life would be worth to +ride about the country, taking money out of people’s pockets like a +footpad. Janvrin wondered what the gentleman could mean; and Aaron +inquired whether the English paid no taxes. + +“Pay taxes! to be sure they do. How should such a fine country get on +without taxes? But, bless your soul, paying taxes there is the easiest +thing in the world. There’s no trouble whatever in it. The government +takes all the trouble, and the people don’t so much as know when they +are paying taxes.” + +The family all thought this must be charming; and Aaron whispered to +Malet that, after all, it might be better for him to go to England: for +taxes were a consideration to a man who was going to marry. But Malet +wished to hear a little more first. How was it that taxation was such an +easy matter in England? + +“O, I only know I never paid a tax in my life. I have not paid a tax +these ten years. Why, yes: some people pay them; but it is only by +giving a trifle more,—nothing worth speaking of,—for things that they +buy.” + +“Like our duty on spirits,” observed the collector, nodding to Malet, +who was all ear. + +“That is a very good plan,” observed Le Brocq. “I always liked that plan +of laying a tax on spirits.” + +“Well you may,” observed the collector, laughing: “for I believe you +have never had a gallon of spirits in your house since its roof was on.” + +“O, it’s a wise tax,” replied the farmer. “So the government in England +is kept up by a tax on spirits.” + +“They must drink a deal of spirits,” said Malet, “or there must be other +dues;—harbour fees, like ours, or the like.” + +Stephen did not deny that the spirit-tax was not the only one: but +whatever the others might be, it was only laying a farthing or two here +and there which nobody minded paying; and which, indeed, none knew that +they paid. What were the taxed articles? Malet inquired.—O, there were +several. Lace and silk stockings, he had heard: and a gentleman in Kent +was saying that hops paid some sort of charge. Malet and Louise looked +at each other. This would suit them exactly. They had never seen silk +stockings or lace, except in the shop-windows at St. Heliers; and they +drank cider.—Well: anything else? Any common articles? Mr. Janvrin +asked. Bread or sugar, timber or linen, soap or tobacco? Any of these? +Why, some of them: but the merest trifle! and it was uncommonly pleasant +to live in a free sort of way, without any tax-gatherer to come to the +cottage-door, and ask for so many shillings out of the poor man’s +earnings. + +“Uncommonly pleasant,” repeated Le Brocq, with a sigh, as Janvrin +pocketed the money on the table, and made an entry in his book. “I think +I shall ask one of the Constables to speak to the Bailly, and try +whether we can’t get the States to think of taxing us as easily as the +English. An uncommonly pleasant way it must be, to be sure.” + +“Uncommonly pleasant,” observed Janvrin, “if the poor man does not pay +pounds without knowing it, instead of shillings when he is asked. Your +guest said something about footpads: but I had rather be robbed by a +footpad than by a pickpocket.” + +The girls asked their mother what was a footpad, and what was a +pickpocket. She frowned, and whispered to them not to ask: it was +something very bad indeed. They blushed, and could only hope that nobody +had heard their question. + +Upon Stephen’s half-smiling and saying, with a turn of the head towards +Janvrin, that every man was in honour bound to defend his own +occupation, but that he was proud to say, the English had no relish for +getting out their money-bags when the government bade them, and +preferred paying their little matter of tax their own way, the good-will +of the family towards Janvrin was visibly overclouded. Nobody pressed +him to stay; and when, on his departure, he once more mentioned that Le +Brocq’s cart and horse would be expected to appear on the new road the +next Monday morning, the farmer looked very grave in giving his assent. + +Stephen was abundantly questioned about England before he was allowed to +go to rest: and when, at length, Aaron led him to the corner where he +was to sleep, and promised to leave no stone unturned to get him into +the hospital, Malet was mourning with Louise that he had wasted so much +time in seeking an establishment in Jersey; and the farmer determined +that he would not close his eyes till he had calculated how much money +he had paid over to the States since he began housekeeping, without +reckoning the use the island had had of his horse and cart, as often as +improvements had been carried on in his parish. + + + + + CHAPTER II. + + A LEGACY. + + +When Aaron stole to the bedside of his guest, early the next morning, to +rouse him for his journey, he was surprised to find nobody there. Not +only had the guest disappeared, but half the bedding,—the whole of which +would not much encumber a strong man. The only supposition that could be +entertained was that Stephen had gone out, with a blanket in addition to +his scanty clothing, to please himself with the morning sunshine; an +amusement to which there was no impediment of locks and bolts, in this +any more than in the neighbouring farmhouses. But Stephen was not to be +found in orchard or field; nor did he answer when his name was called, +though everybody in the house was wakened by the shout. Louise appeared +with her milk-pails, and Anna tripped down to the brook. Mrs. Le Brocq +appeared at the window, knitting, and the farmer came out to harness his +team, while Victorine swept the kitchen, and prepared to light the fire. +Everybody appeared but Stephen. A general admiration of his talents +prevailed when it was remarked as a singular thing that a blind man +should be able to find the door, and pursue his way over ground that he +had traversed but once. The fear was lest he should have lost himself, +got entangled in the copse, or soused in the brook;—or,—suppose he +should have fallen down the quarry! If he had escaped all these dangers, +he must be as acute about finding his way as he had shown himself about +taxation, and love and marriage. While this admiration was being +expressed, up came Anna from the brook, with a gentle reproof prepared +for Victorine, for carrying away the bleaching linen from the place +where they had been left the evening before. There was no place where +they could bleach more favourably, and Victorine had received no orders +to remove them. It was not long before the conviction was forced upon +everybody that the linen was stolen. The most valuable part of the +clothing of the family was gone. Nearly eighty of the best caps +belonging to the four women of the household were carried off, and so +many other useful things that the maidens might do nothing but spin, +knit, and sew, from this time till Christmas, and yet be obliged to have +three or four extra washes. It was a dreadful misfortune. Louise leaned +her head against the cow she was milking when the tidings were brought +to her. Let Charles be as fortunate as he might, her wedding might be +considered as deferred for an indefinite period. Anna hoped against hope +that some happy explanation would arise. It seemed impossible that any +one should be so wicked as to take, without payment, what did not belong +to him. Father and son and Victorine were off in different directions to +look for traces of thieves in the fields and highways. Not a cap was to +be seen dropped on the grass, nor any shirt frolicking by itself on any +bush. Victorine turned back panic-struck, only too well convinced of +what she now thought she had suspected all along,—that the guest of the +last night had arrived from a far more distant place than England, and +that he needed no ship to bring him over the sea. She trembled to think +what sort of feet might have been enclosed in her young master’s shoes, +and what might have been the effects of his eyes, if he had not happily +chosen to keep them shut. Aaron did not know that he could do better +than pursue his way to St. Heliers, where it was possible that he might +meet with either Stephen or the thief, if they should, after all, not +happen to be the same person. So he harnessed a strong little horse of +his father’s to the cart, drove to his rope-walk, wished that Malet +would not be so late in the mornings, but would be at his business in +time to help people with advice when they were in a hurry, and drove +off. He had not gone far when his sister’s voice hailed him. She was +running after him with a list of messages from his mother about articles +that he was to purchase in the market at St. Heliers, and with a request +that if he should be able to learn anything about the lost property, he +would take particular care to recover Louise’s share first, as poor +Louise was in sadder distress than anybody else. + +“You will go to Gorey,” she suggested. “Some of the English may think +there is no harm in taking our caps, and will give you them back again.” + +“Ask Charles to go there. It will be as much as I can do to make this +harness hold out, if I go as straight as an arrow and back again. I had +better have kept the last coil of cord I sold to young François; this is +as rotten as if the tow had never been twisted.” + +It was provoking that the harness should break at this moment; and Aaron +showed that it was. He twitched the horse’s head in its straw collar, +knotted the rope rein with some very petulant gestures, told his sister +that she deserved to be run over for coming in the way of the long axle +of the cart, and finally urged on his rumbling vehicle without a word of +farewell. + +His haste did not, however, prevent his pausing on some high ground, +where an opening in the ridge of hills afforded him a glimpse of the +sea, and a distant view of the pier at Gorey. The English oyster-boats +were departing for the season. A little fleet of them was standing out +from the bay; and in one of them might have been found, as Aaron +suspected, the lost property and the blind thief,—if blind he were. The +sight of such means of escape stimulated the youth to his pursuit, if +indeed it were yet possible to hunt out the guilty from any retreat +between Grosnez and La Roque, and bring him to justice. + +No person in the least resembling Stephen was to be seen on any of the +quays of St. Heliers, nor in the pretty market-place. Mr. De la Mare had +not heard of any blind stranger being in the neighbourhood. The vessel +from the Baltic was in the harbour,—all safe, and bringing hemp, as +Aaron desired. As it was still too early in the morning for the +transaction of business on the quay, he thought it best to make his +purchases in the market-place, telling every person he met of the family +loss. Several people from the country had already taken their places +under the piazzas, and had set out their butter, eggs, and vegetables; +and the butchers’ carts were being unpacked in the centre. Every one was +soon in possession of the story. While the early housewife was arguing +with the butcher whether she should pay 3_d._ or 3½_d._ per lb. for his +prime beef, she stopped to shake her head over the depravity of the age, +in which an open theft had come to be committed in return for +hospitality. The maid-servant, who took in the tale with open mouth, +while the market-woman counted eggs at 4_d._ a dozen into her basket, +promised to mention the circumstance wherever she went. The townsman who +had risen early that he might have the first choice of fish, spoke of +alarming the magistracy and rousing justice.—Then, when Aaron stepped to +a shop or two within sight, to buy two pounds of three shilling tea (his +mother made a point of having the best tea), and a supply of fine sugar +at 4_d._, half the little boys that were abroad followed him, as if +expecting that the thief would be found under the counter or in one of +the canisters; and the shopman put on a countenance of concern; and the +head of the firm looked mysterious; and altogether the impression was +very profound. + +All was known at the custom-house before Aaron betook himself thither to +inquire about the arrival and departure of vessels. Every man in the +establishment,—the principal, the comptroller, and the two +subordinates,—was eager to question Aaron as he approached with an air +of peculiar gravity. The unlading of Christiana deals upon the quay had +proceeded without their notice, while engrossed with the tale of the Le +Brocqs’ misfortunes;—not that it was any part of their duty to watch the +unlading of Baltic timber; for here the people were allowed to get their +timber from any part of the world they pleased, and to give no more than +the natural price. They were neither compelled to pay the King for the +liberty of using foreign timber at all; nor obliged, by the high duty +put upon Christiana deals, to take up with the inferior wood of Canada. +The custom-house officers looked upon the landing and sale of timber +with their hands in their pockets, and as if they had no more concern in +the matter than in a bargain about a bunch of asparagus. + +Equally indifferent were they about the proceedings of the vessel which +brought hemp and tallow. Indeed, the bustle of the port of St. Heliers,— +a bustle which increases from year to year,—takes place altogether among +the buyers and sellers. Tax-gatherers have little concern in the matter. +When the harbour-master has collected the harbour dues, and the +custom-house officers have ascertained that no wine or spirits are on +board, or have levied that single tax, the government is satisfied, and +no further impediments exist. The Jersey people could not possibly stand +more in need of hemp than the English. Without rigging for her +merchant-ships, England is impoverished: without cables and sails for +her vessels of war, she is defenceless. How did she then supply this +great necessity? But little hemp is grown at home; and, in order to +obtain more, government adopted the means precisely adapted to defeat +the end. Instead of facilitating to the utmost the obtaining of an +article from abroad which is deficient at home, difficulties were thrown +in the way of getting it from abroad, in order to force the production +at home: a very high duty was laid on imported hemp. This made it less +expensive to buy sail-cloth and ropes ready made from abroad than to +manufacture them at home; and thus our manufacturers were ruined. It +also stimulated the use of iron cables, so that the government found +that there is a slip between the cup and the lip,—between laying on this +tax and receiving the produce. The result of the whole was that +government derived little from the tax; our manufacturers could not make +their business answer; and we employed foreigners to prepare our ropes +for us, while those at home, who would do the work cheaper, were +standing idle. If government would have admitted hemp free, the +multitude who were standing idle, and the larger multitude who paid for +the collecting of the tax and for the dearness of the article, would +have been thankful to subscribe the 70,000_l._ which was all that found +its way into the Treasury. It is but lately that the consequences of +such a policy have been recognised by the government and the country, +and the duty on undressed hemp repealed; but it is now fully +acknowledged that the country need never have paid the high prices +demanded for hemp manufactures from 1808 to 1814, or any of the burdens +which this absurd tax has imposed till now. It is to be hoped that this +conviction will lead to the repeal of other taxes as bad in principle, +and almost as mischievous in practice: but custom-house officers still +interfere between the English builder and the timber of the Baltic, and +demand so heavy a tax upon every cask of tallow or oil that is on its +way to the soap-boiler as to involve hundreds or thousands in the +factitious guilt of a breach of the revenue laws. + +Aaron had a favourite phrase at his tongue’s end, whenever he was out of +his father’s sight. Le Brocq had carried his authority over his son a +great deal too far:—so far that Aaron was in a state of unremitting +bondage to one person, while he was apt to carry his freedom to an +extreme in every other presence. ‘What is that to you?’ was his +invariable reply when questioned by sister, friend or stranger;—an +expression which would never have occurred to him, if he had not been +racked with questions by the only person whom he could not refuse to +answer. His sisters were so well aware of his sensitiveness to the tone +of interrogation that whatever was uncertain was put by them into a form +of conjecture; and even Victorine appeared to be thinking aloud whenever +she wanted to know anything which she believed her young master could +tell. Custom-house officers cannot be expected to show such +consideration for individual peculiarities, and it would have been +scarcely safe to have allowed Aaron to go down to an English port to +transact business about hemp or tallow. Ladies going to France now find +it vexatious to be asked, “What have you in that bag?” “What do you +carry in this little box;” and gentlemen turn restive under the inquiry +what fills out their pockets, and whether they carry anything in their +boots. Such inquisition, intolerable as it is, is less vexatious by half +than that which the English merchant, priding himself on the dignity of +his vocation, has to undergo when the amount of his purchases, and the +value of his merchandise have to be investigated, and made known to +those who ought to have no concern in the matter, that they may watch +whether he discharges his duty to the state. These sufferers may not say +(what they are incessantly prompted to exclaim,)—“What is that to you?” +they may not make as free as Aaron did on the quays of St. Heliers. + +The comptroller accosted him with, + +“Your concern is with her,—yonder,—I see.” + +“What’s that to you?” + +“Why, no more than that I can tell you, within a minute and a half, how +soon she will be alongside the wharf. You won’t have to wait long, I +fancy; for there are half a score of people come in from the country at +the first news of her being moored off the old castle. You must have +found it a great vexation to be waiting for hemp when the time of the +fishery was passing away.” + +“What’s she?” inquired Aaron, pointing to a vessel which was making her +way out of the harbour, before the anxious eyes of a group of men, now +resting from the toil of putting the finishing stroke to her lading. + +“What’s that to you?” replied the comptroller, smiling. “I see you do +not like other people to take a fancy to your words. Well, then, she +carries stone to the port of London; and a fine voyage she is likely to +have with this wind:—a better one than the Riga vessels that have been +in the Channel this fortnight, I fancy, and cannot get here. They will +be all coming at once when you will want them less than you have done. +But you have always a good market for cordage in England, I suppose.” + +Aaron muttered that whether he sent his ropes to England or anywhere +else, people in all places wanted cordage, and always would want it, he +supposed. + +“No doubt; and when one hears of young men’s sisters being seen turning +the wheel in the rope-walk, and of young men themselves standing every +evening by the poquelaye to look for ships that bring hemp, one can’t +help, if one cares for the island, hoping that the manufacture is +prospering.” + +“Certainly; if one is thinking of the island. But what is to become of +the island, if it is to be overrun with thieves? You heard of our being +robbed last night.” + +“Yes. Some London rogue that came by an oyster-boat, no doubt. What have +you lost by him?” + +“What’s that to you?” + +“Why, really, Mr. Aaron, I don’t see how you are to find your property +again, if you have an objection to say what you have lost. I must leave +you to find the thief in your own way, and wish you good morning.” + +“Well; but that is not what I meant to say,—if you think you can help me +to the thief.” + +“Nobody could, if many were to take up your way of speaking. Only +conceive, now! ‘Pray, sir, have you any knowledge of the people that +came by the Medway boats?’—‘What’s that to you?’ ‘Have you happened to +see a blind man pass your way, Mr. So-and-so?’—‘What’s that to you?’ +‘Where was it——?’” + +Aaron half-laughed, and wished people would never be tiresome with their +questions, and then—— + +“And then you would not make it a great mystery whether the thief took +two pairs of stockings or six. Well, if I find Mr. Stephen and his booty +in an empty wine-cask, I will make bold to let you know, if you will +only allow me to ask whether the property belongs to you.” + +Aaron gravely thanked him, when the comptroller began saying one thing +more before they separated. + +“Just bear this hint in mind, Mr. Aaron. Don’t be tempted to go and +follow any business in England, till you have taken as great a fancy for +being questioned as you have now taken against it. This is the country +for you,—where nobody fingers your tow, or counts your strands or +measures your cables. Don’t be persuaded to go and live in England.” + +Aaron stared. He had never had a thought of even crossing to England for +a week’s pleasure. Had his companion heard of any scheme——? What could +put it into his head to offer such a caution? + +“What’s that to you?” answered the comptroller, laughing as he +retreated. “Only mind what I say.” + +Aaron was not fond of minding what anybody said. He had had enough of +that kind of observance enforced by his father. He looked dogged; and if +any one had on the spot offered him a passage to England, he would +probably have gone, at all hazards. + +The fancy possessed him all day. While engaged in the purchase of his +hemp, he made inquiries of the Russians whether they had been in +England, and how they were treated there, and after what fashion +purchases of hemp were made in the ports. He was in the midst of a +reverie, deciding that it could be no more really necessary to answer +impertinent questions in England than anywhere else, when he was stopped +on his way out of town by an officer of justice who wanted a description +of Stephen’s costume; and then by a housewife who had a +mysteriously-obtained cap to show, which she supposed might be one of +the missing stock. Over hill and over dale he jogged and jolted, letting +his horse carry the cart after its own fancy, while he reviewed in his +mind all the trades and professions he had heard of as being practised +in England; and recalled the countenances of two Isle of Wight men who +had looked far from being harassed to death. He was pretty sure it must +be very possible for him to live in England: and what the comptroller +could mean by so earnest a caution, given at this very time, he could +not imagine. + +The first person he saw on his arrival in the neighbourhood of home was +Victorine. She was awaiting him on the orchard bank; and very sorry she +was that she could venture no further on the road by which he was to +approach; but the thief of the preceding night was as a lion in the +path. No one of the women had this day gone out of screaming distance; +and it was rather a stretch of boldness to have attained the orchard +bank. There had been terrors to be sustained;—a toad had made the grass +move in one place; and a large black bird, (Victorine did not look again +to see of what species,) had rustled in the hedge, and flown out before +her eyes; and a gruff voice had been overheard in the ditch on the other +side;—a voice which made her heart beat so that she could hear nothing +else, or she would soon have discovered that it was the grunting old +sow. The greatness of the occasion alone enabled her to take her stand, +notwithstanding all these alarms. + +“Mr. Aaron,” cried she, “there is news at home. Mr. Aaron, the uncle is +dead.” + +“What uncle? Whose uncle? Our uncle? What uncle?” + +“Uncle Anthony is dead. I thought I would tell you, sir; lest you should +see the mother first, and fear something worse. Have you got news of our +caps?” + +Aaron did not answer the last question, he was so busy trying to +remember who uncle Anthony was. He remembered having heard the name in +childhood, and believed that the person it belonged to lived somewhere a +great way off; but no passing thought of either name or person had been +in his mind for so many years, that he was ill-prepared to take the news +as it seemed to be expected that he should. + +He found his mother moving about with a countenance of the deepest +solemnity, and the same step that she would have used in a sick-room. Le +Brocq was quiet and thoughtful, and Malet evidently in gay spirits. + +“We have had a great loss, Aaron,” declared the mother. “You remember +our uncle Anthony.” + +“Did I ever see him, mother?” + +He was told that this was a very ungrateful question, for that uncle +Anthony had been his godfather. When it pleased God to send afflictions, +it became people to be more sensible of them than Aaron seemed to be. By +way of setting an example, Mrs. Le Brocq gave all the house-business in +charge to Victorine, and sat down with her knitting to sigh very +heavily, and look up reproachfully as often as any one spoke. Anna saw +Aaron’s perplexity, and its near approach to a sulky fit, and found an +opportunity of whispering a little desirable information. + +“Uncle Anthony was father’s uncle, and he gave mother a tea-chest when +she married; and he was your godfather, and lived near London; and he +wants us to go and live there now.” + +“But I thought he was dead.” + +“So he is: but he left a letter, which I suppose father will tell you +about. I am afraid we do not know how to take this dispensation as we +ought: but pray God those may be supported that will miss him more than +we can!” + +“What does father look so grave for? Is it sorrow? or is he thinking of +London?” + +“Charles let drop that he should like to go to London; and he says ’tis +like a providence, after what passed last night. Such a business +offered! and so pressing! Father is turning it over, perhaps.” + +“Why for Charles more than me? Everybody is thought of before me.” + +“You would not have thought so if you had known how father was calling +for you, three or four times before you came home. Whatever he may be +thinking, he is not forgetting you.—But, Aaron, don’t be eager after +changes. We are over-apt to like changes; but see the grave faces that +we have had since this time yesterday, when our changes began!” + +A change was meanwhile working to which Anna could not object, any more +than her brother. Her father’s heart was opening towards Aaron under the +influence of a strong excitement. He held out the letter at arm’s +length, with the encouraging command, “Read that.” Aaron read as +follows:— + +“Dear Nephew—The reason why you have never heard from me for these +seventeen years past is because I had a son and daughter of my own, as +you know, to care for; and you were too far off to do me any good in the +way of attention, which I always remembered in your favour when in want +of it when my son turned disobedient. Also I remembered the overalls +your wife knitted for me, and always determined you should hear of them +again, sooner or later. But I had no mind to give up my business to +anybody else before I had done with it myself; and for this same reason, +though I am writing this letter now, I don’t mean that you should have +it till after my death. Never mind my missing being thanked by you! I +can fancy all you would say very well, and set it down to your credit. + +“You are to come and take my business, instead of living in your +outlandish place any longer, which is only a place for such as are half +French in their hearts,—confound them! You have nothing like this +Lambeth neighbourhood, let me tell you; and the sooner you come and see, +the better. Indeed, the business can’t wait long for a master, though +Studley will do very well to take care of it for the few weeks after my +burial till you come. But make haste, lest you miss more than you think +for. There is little in the pottery business that you may not learn, and +teach your little boy after you, with Studley to help you: and it is a +very pretty concern, and one which it is a mystery to me that my son +should have sneezed at, and gone abroad, I do believe to get away from +me, where he is doing very well, they say, with his wife and family in +America; and so nobody can allege I do an unkind thing in showing my +displeasure against him by leaving my business to one who never +disobeyed me. My daughter, I should have said, died twelve years ago, +and is buried in the same churchyard with my wife. + +“You may be thankful that I have lived to this time to get up a pretty +business for you. The stone pottery is a very different affair now from +what it was when I first came into it, forty years ago. Not but that it +was in one respect more flourishing twenty years ago than it is now;— +viz., in soda-water bottles, of which we used to send out a great number +till cut out in that respect by the glass, which is more secure of being +clean, they say, and does not sweat, as stone used to do, though we have +now cured the sweating. It is a pity, too, that glass is preferred for +beer that is sent abroad. I don’t mean ginger beer or spruce beer, both +which are bottled in stone, as being less apt to burst; and the people +in Van Diemen’s Land and other foreign parts are very fond of such brisk +drinks, as you will find to your profit. We made 130 cwt. with E X upon +them last year. But this is a poor test, since a bare twelfth of our +article is duty-paid. We send as many figured jugs to Ireland as ever; +and what we make for ink and blacking is prodigious. There is an +increase in spirit casks and large oil bottles; and the state of +chemicals has improved in our favour since I took the business; so that +I should scarcely have believed then what I should some time sell to +chemists, and also for filtering. So here, you see, is a pretty sort of +business, and only, I assure you, ten or eleven to divide it among them +in London, and only sixty-nine in all England: and if prices have come +down somewhat, it is quite as much because the clay can be got cheaper, +and coals are lower, as on account of the meddling of the glass-bottle +makers,—which you will perhaps wonder at my owning, considering what a +grudge we owe these last: but I am for fair play on all occasions. So +now you know what you have to expect, except about the house. It is a +pretty pleasant house, joining the pottery, and opening into the yard: +and there being only outhouses behind for some way, it is what I call +airy; and the furniture you will find just as I leave it. So all will be +ready for you to come directly. + +“I think this is all at present. You may expect me to say something +serious, as people generally do when they are settling their affairs to +leave the world. But I am not particularly ill, though I have taken this +opportunity of writing this letter, and finished my 75th year yesterday; +and those things come time enough when the time comes: and my business +now is, being of sound mind, to arrange matters for you, in case of my +being cut off suddenly. So I shall just leave this open, in case of +having anything to add at any future time.” + +It appeared that nothing had occurred to be added in any future time, +for this was all. Anna was sorry for it. While her father was talking +about the letter being that of a good, kind, old soul, she was turning +it round to find in some of its odd corners some word of relenting +towards his disobedient son. Aaron waited in silence an intimation that +Malet was to be presented with this “pretty business” in a country where +people paid the merest trifles in taxes, and without being aware of it. +The idea had even struck him that he would work upon Malet to let him +become a partner, and thus free himself from his father’s strict rule, +and settle himself where, as he grew older, no one would make him pay +down money for the use of the State. + +Malet looked blank when Le Brocq announced his intention of going to St. +Heliers to-morrow, to inquire about a passage for England. The young man +was asked the cause of his surprise. Why should any time be lost? + +“Do you mean to go?” asked all the family. + +Certainly. What else should he do? Malet should rent the farm, and take +Aaron’s rope-walk, if he would. Aaron would be wanted at the pottery. +Malet would fain have discovered that he should be wanted too. No one +who had seen and heard Stephen thought anything so hard as to have to +live in Jersey, when there was such a place as England to go to. Even +with the certainty before them of being able to marry immediately, Malet +and Louise looked grave. Any one would have thought that their marriage +had been put off for a twelvemonth at least. + +“You shall have the farm at a reasonable rate, in consideration of its +being a place for my wife and Anna to come back to, if anything should +happen to me before I have settled well in this business in London. You +shall have the six acres for 40_l._, and no other charges but for the +orchard; and you shall be married directly, that we may be gone. We will +settle about Aaron’s rope-walk to-morrow, when I have questioned him a +little more about it.” + +Aaron did not slip away, as he usually did when there was talk of +questioning. He was too happy in the prospect of living in England to +throw any impediment in the way of getting rid of his rope-walk. + +“And what are we to pay for the orchard, pray?” asked Louise, +repiningly. “I’m sure I shall have no time to make cider, if you all go +away and leave me.” + +“Victorine will stay; and that will be just so much more help than your +mother had when we married,” replied Le Brocq. “I shall not ask above +3_l._ an acre for the orchards, and cider enough for our own drinking, +which I expect you will send us every year.” + +“Anna and I shall make our own cider, I suppose,” declared Mrs. Le +Brocq, forgetting her solemnity in the interest of the topic. “It will +be a long way to send cider.” + +Not farther than cider was sent every season, her husband replied; and +he doubted whether it would be quite convenient to make cider on the +premises of a Lambeth pottery; but as Mrs. Le Brocq was sure that, +wherever she went, she should have an orchard at the back of the house, +the point was left to be determined after their arrival. + +There must now be entire silence, for the farmer was about to study over +again the letter from uncle Anthony’s lawyer in which the foregoing +epistle was enclosed. Louise therefore withdrew to meditate over her +milk-pail, and Anna to take in the linen from the green bank, lest there +should be a further theft this night. As she passed the hydrangeas at +the door, and the flowering myrtles that half-concealed the paling, she +felt sad at the prospect of leaving them;—at the prospect of leaving +these particular hydrangeas and myrtles, not of quitting the region of +flowers; for she never doubted there being a green path to the house in +Lambeth, and a vine growing up to the thatch, and blossoming shrubs +clustering on every side. She hoped they should all be happier when they +were rich; but she could scarcely see how: for Louise must be left +behind, and Victorine; and her mother’s head-ach and pain in the +shoulder might perhaps continue, however rich they might be. But if +Aaron should look lighter, and father be as kind to him as to Louise and +herself, they should certainly be all much happier; and perhaps the +being rich might bring this about. At any rate, it was God that raised +up as well as brought low; and so all must be right: but this was a dear +place to be obliged to leave. Aaron silently devoured his mess of conger +eel, stewed with milk and young green peas, and grew in his own +estimation every moment. When Victorine had done serving him, she placed +herself where she might watch the family party, and perhaps discover +what made her mistress sigh as she had never heard her sigh since the +late king died. + + + + + CHAPTER III. + + LIFE IN LAMBETH. + + +It is needless to explain that there were neither myrtles nor vines +about the pottery-house. Not that there was any deficiency of scent +around the dwelling. A soap manufactory near obviated every charge of +this kind. It had given out its odours in full power at the moment of +the Le Brocqs’ first approach to their new abode, and had greeted them +just when they paused to admire the symbols which were erected on their +pottery wall. It was by uncle Anthony’s taste that the establishment +bore this refined character. It was he who had mounted a huge filterer +on one angle; and on another a ladle which seemed made to fish up Truth +out of a well. Uncle Anthony had done much. Would he had done one thing +more!—removed from the neighbourhood of the soap manufactory, or got it +removed by indicting it as a nuisance. But he had lived for fifty years +on good terms with this establishment, and never dreamt of hurting it. +Indeed, when he had been persuaded, on rare occasions, to give himself a +day’s airing at Hornsey, he relished the atmosphere of his native street +on his return, as the fuller’s heart leaps at the sight of the dust +about his mill, and the weaver’s at the sound of the click-clack of his +loom. Mrs. Le Brocq did not take it so easily, nor believe what she was +told of the certainty that she would enjoy the nuisance in time, as much +as her neighbours. Anna felt it a sad addition to the excitements under +which she had to labour from dawn till night. Every morning she was +startled from sleep by the workmen knocking at the gate of the yard; and +then came the peevish bell of the dustman, and then a gradual increase +of street noises. If it rained, the sprinklings of white earth in the +yard became mud; if the sun shone in, the dust danced thick in its +beams, and she felt as if she drew it in with every breath. At her +former home, little dust was to be seen, as everything was green around, +except the gravelly lane; but here no efforts to keep the furniture in a +seemly state availed anything. It would have been as easy to parry one +of the plagues of Egypt. There was a good deal to be admired, however, +when it was not boiling day at the soapery, or when the wind was south. +The river, as seen from the wharf behind the pottery, was not so fine, +she thought, as the channel between Jersey and France; but the bridge +was very grand, and nothing could be more beautiful than her father’s +finely arranged stock of stone-ware. Mr. Studley, the foreman, had +assured her that the process of the manufacture was in some parts very +elegant; but her father would not let her see it till Aaron should be +competent to the exhibition, on some holiday, or other occasion when the +men should be absent. Through the stock-room, however, she was allowed +to range; and her awe of London, as a place of civilization and wealth, +was much increased by what she saw there;—such beautiful jars and +pitchers, and so enormous a congregation of blacking bottles! Thither +she carried her knitting, when not wanted in kitchen or parlour. She +thought she must leave off knitting, as her mother could do all that was +now required. Nobody seemed to wear knitted smallclothes or petticoats +in London, nor even shawls. If it was really true that she must no +longer make her father’s and Aaron’s coats, she feared she should want +occupation: but it was difficult to credit that in a fine country like +England the men would condescend to such womanish work as tailoring. She +had no doubt she should find this to be a joke upon her, as a new comer. +She had, indeed, seen a young man sitting upon a table, and doing +tailor’s work; but he was very small and pale, and most likely permitted +to do this because he was fit for nothing else. + +While deep in thought over her work, she was planning how to make her +mother more comfortable than she could possibly be at present. Mrs. Le +Brocq could not live without apples, and was very much discomposed at +having to purchase them; and when she went to the shop, or stepped out +after a fruit-woman in the street, the neighbours invariably followed to +stare at her costume. The butcher had given out that the new family were +preciously stingy people, eating meat only once or twice a week, which +was a sin and shame in the owners of a pottery. Mr. Studley cast a look +of disgust at her, the only time he had entered the house,—which +happened precisely at the moment when the dinner of lard and cabbage +soup was being served up. If Mrs. Le Brocq could not be made more +popular in the neighbourhood, it was to be feared that the possession of +a pottery would not insure perfect happiness to the family. + +How different from Studley had been another visitor who entered at a +similar important point of time! “A gentleman,” who did not declare his +name, called to speak to Mr. Le Brocq, a few days after his arrival, and +walked in, as a matter of course, without waiting to hear whether the +person he sought was at home. He uttered a cry of delight at the +spectacle of the soup, and kissed Mrs. Le Brocq and her daughter, in +sign of being a countryman. Before he could be asked, he drew a chair, +rubbed his hands, and sang a verse of a song in the French of the +island,—the language which it refreshed their ears to hear. He had not +done when Le Brocq came in, expecting to find a customer for his +stoneware rather than his dinner. + +“Ha! countryman!” cried the stranger. “Don’t try to remember me. For my +own sake, don’t try to remember me. There’s no use in looking back too +far, when all is done; but I could not slink away when once I had seen +the hem of your wife’s Jersey petticoat. My name is Durell: there is no +occasion to remind us all that you have heard it before.” + +Mr. Le Brocq looked grave. A farmer, of the name of Durell, had +committed an assault on the King’s highway, in the neighbourhood of +Gorey, and had anticipated his sentence of banishment by making off in a +fishing-boat, within an hour of the information being laid against him. +Every one had been sorry for the offender, who was known to be of a +passionate temper, and to have received such provocation as would have +gone far to justify him. Every one was sorry that he had precipitately +given up his pretty farm, and compelled his wife and child to wander +after him to another land; but Le Brocq now wished to have some evidence +of the respectability of Durell, before he admitted him as a guest on +terms of familiarity. + +“You should have such a love of country as mine, man, and then you would +not look so cold upon me,” cried Durell. “If you knew how my heart longs +for a word about the deep shady lanes, and those blessed little coves, +where the sea comes to kiss one’s feet, and slips away again! I have not +seen what I call a dell any where else; and the pastures, with a green +that makes one’s eyes water! Heaven keep them so! And how are they?” + +“Did you come to hear this sort of news?” Le Brocq inquired. + +“The devil take what I came for! that will do afterwards. Can’t you tell +me whether the doves coo as they used to do when the wind dropped? For +the soul of me, I can’t believe you are a Jerseyman! If I had not thrown +open my doors wider to poor Stephen, I should have doubted my being a +Jerseyman myself.” + +“Poor who?” inquired Le Brocq, hoping to obtain something in the form of +a reference, + +“A poor helpless body that lives with me, and tells me every night what +makes me dream that I am leaning against a mossy stone gate-post, or +throwing pebbles into the ivy to bring out the birdies. You shall see +him; and we will make ourselves all of a company.” + +Le Brocq was going to rebuke this familiarity, when Studley put his head +in, and respectfully told Durell that all was ready for him when he +pleased to come. Durell’s air was immediately as sober and business-like +as that of Studley. + +“I believe,” said he, “you have not told your principal what I am here +for. Ay, you think he must know by instinct; but let me tell you that no +more is heard of the excise in Jersey than there is here of knit +small-clothes. Had he told you to expect me?” he inquired of Le Brocq. + +“He said something yesterday about sending a notice to the excise; but I +do not rightly see what the excise has to do with my manufacture.” + +“That you shall see presently. We have only to visit you once a day, and +to see your bottles come out of the furnace, and make you count and +weigh them, if we choose, and measure them across the neck, to see if +they are of the legal size, and——” + +“What is all that to you?” cried Aaron, who had just entered. + +“In order to determine the payment we are to take from you.” + +“Payment! What payment? People are to pay us for our bottles, I suppose, +and not we them, or I see little use in making bottles. What payment can +you mean?” + +“The excise duty,—the tax on home manufactures. In your case——” + +“But we were told that the people in England paid no tax, except a mere +trifle that they give without knowing it. Father, did not you understand +that the English pay no tax?” + +“That is a little mistake,” averred Durell. “Their paying without +knowing it is partly true. What you are going to pay me, for instance, +is not the same kind of contribution as you have paid out of your own +pocket in Jersey, when the States wanted to erect a new pier, or other +public building. You will repay yourselves by putting such a price on +your bottles as will defray the tax, besides yielding you a profit; and +the buyers of your bottles will not know the amount they pay for the tax +from that which buys the bottle. You advance the tax for them, that is +all.” + +“But that is very hard,” observed Aaron. “Why are we to be obliged to +advance money for hundreds of people that we do not know or wish to +serve?” + +“Oh! you must pay yourselves by charging interest upon this advance. +Studley will tell you that you clap on a little more still upon the +price, as interest upon your advance.” + +“Well, I think that is hard upon our customers, I must say. I don’t call +it any favour to them to take their money in such a way, instead of +giving them a choice whether they will pay directly, or wait awhile and +pay the interest too.” + +“The buyer of your bottles pays no more for interest than he gains in +time. There is no cheat in making him pay interest upon this kind of +loan, any more than upon other kinds of loans.” + +“But there is a cheat in not letting him know how the matter stands, so +that he may have a choice. It is like putting physic between bread and +butter for a grown man, who had, perhaps, much rather swallow a pill of +his own accord.” + +“Well; every man has the power of looking between his bread and butter. +Every buyer may know how much duty is paid upon any article he buys.” + +“But he is not able to choose between the pill and the powder. If he +won’t take the powder as it is spread, he must go without both physic +and bread and butter.” + +“And I am far from sure,” observed Le Brocq, “whether our customers be +not cheated, after all. I was frightened enough when I came, as Studley +knows, to find what wages we have to pay. I set down the concern as ruin +when the first Saturday night came; and I like the plan but little +better now I find that these high wages are paid, in the same manner as +the tax and the interest, out of the price of the article. I believe +that the high wages are owing to this very tax. I must think so, because +our workmen are not nearly so well off with their high wages as our +Jersey labourers with only half the sum.” + +Mrs. Le Brocq wondered that English labourers used so many stone bottles +as to make all this difference. Her husband explained that the same tax +was laid on other articles, more used by labourers than stone bottles—on +soap, and beer, and spirits, and tea. Now, if the tax made the articles +on which the labourer subsists much more expensive than they would +otherwise be, the labourer’s wages must be much higher to buy the same +comforts than they would otherwise be; and the wages being high acts +again on the price of the article made by the labourer; and so the buyer +pays twice over, and everything is put out of its natural course. + +Le Brocq heaved a deep sigh, which was echoed by his son. They had +calculated, from the price of their wares, compared with the expense of +production, that they should be abundantly rich in a year or two. They +had been startled by the amount of wages; and now, when they found that +the price of their bottles was also to cover the tax, and interest upon +its advance, their golden visions began to melt into the twilight of +doubt. + +The first object now was to finish dinner, and go over the premises with +the exciseman, to see what his visit was like. Durell declined all +further hospitality on the present occasion, declaring, with a look of +gravity very unlike what he wore when Studley came in, that though he +had tasted a favourite old dish for once, to show his goodwill, it was +but for once. He always avoided occasion of misinterpretation in his +office, and should therefore desire his visits to be strictly confined +to business. Considering how frequent they must be, it was necessary to +come to an understanding from the beginning, especially with strangers +who might not be aware of the strictness of the rules by which excise +officers must be guided. He requested Mr. Le Brocq and all his family to +take notice that it would be better to offer no kind of favour to him or +his excise brethren, since none could be accepted. + +“So we are to have the pleasure of seeing you often?” observed Le Brocq. + +“You will see me often,—one or other of us every day; but I advise you +not to call this a pleasure. It can never be a pleasure; but you may +prevent its being a plague by letting us go and come, and by being +perfectly correct in your conduct——Ah! I perceive you are offended at +the word; but when you have lived here a few months longer, you will see +that I mean nothing more than a friendly caution. Finish your dinner; +and I will go with Studley, and learn what your people are doing.” + +Aaron was on the point of saying once more, “What’s that to you?” but +his father desired him to dispatch his meal, and follow as soon as he +could, to take a lesson in excise visitations. + +“You may wonder now that you have not seen us before,” observed Durell +to Le Brocq, as they passed into the manufactory; but your predecessor +was on very good terms with us; and, from his long connexion with us, +could be trusted to send for us on all proper occasions, so as to save +himself from a daily visitation; and the same favour was continued to +Studley till we found that the management had gone into other hands. You +cannot do better than follow his advice. He will inform you of all that +is necessary in your dealings with us. Ho! ho! what a brickmaking here +is! For how many thousand are you going to account to us, Studley?” + +“Sir, we do not sell bricks,” protested Le Brocq. + +“Nor tiles. But those tiles that are now burning in every one of your +furnaces would have paid tax a few months ago.” + +“What! tiles that are used only for our ware to stand upon while it is +burning! Bless me! are all these charges to be paid by the article when +sold? Our bottles may well be called dear.” + +“Though I fancy you take a little off the price of the bottles, and put +it upon the jars which are not taxed. Hey?” + +Studley observed that this was a very fair way of defeating the +intentions of the glass-manufacturers, to whose jealousy it was owing +that stone bottles were taxed at all. + +Le Brocq was quite out of humour at being threatened with a charge of +5_s._ 10_d._ a thousand for his bricks. Was he to be expected to buy +bricks to build that upper story, while he had the clay on his premises? +He might do which he pleased, he was told: he was to pay the duty either +way,—in the price of bought bricks, or into the exciseman’s hand. + +“By the way,” observed Durell, “that new upper story is not entered. How +comes that?” + +“We keep that for articles that are not exciseable,” answered Studley. +“You have no concern with that floor. There is not an exciseable article +in it.” + +“Take care that there never is, then. You may find that your walls have +tongues, if you give them anything to tell. You know, friend,” turning +to Le Brocq, “that for each and every of premises not entered according +to law, there is a heavy penalty. If you did not know it before, you +know it now; and heaven help you to keep out of my hands! Ah! here are +your tiles!—pitiful things to pay tax upon, indeed. I am glad to leave +you to your own devices about that article.” + +Studley looked very impatient while the visiter went on talking, and +turning over the burnt tiles. When Durell next entered a kiln that was +cooling, and looked round at the streaks of glazing that the salt had +left upon the sides, and afterwards descended to the place where the +clay was being milled, and watered, and trodden, and conversed with the +blind horse, and joked with the boys, the foreman thought it time to +speak out. + +“Pray, sir, do you know how long we have been waiting for you? Do you +please that we should proceed without you?” + +“By no means. Are you going to fill the kiln, or draw?” + +“You seem to forget our notice, sir. We drew five hours ago; and your +officer weighed the wares in due form. They are standing now for you to +weigh; and if you keep us here to the end of the six hours, it will be +too late to pack them off by the present opportunity. Another half-hour +is our last chance this week. I told you so before, sir,” continued the +vexed foreman, following as Durell skipped up the stairs, taking two at +a time. “If I told you once, I told you thrice; but that stinking +hotch-potch put everything else out of your head, I think.” + +“You will pack off the larger articles, I suppose, Studley,” observed Le +Brocq, “whether the bottles are ready or not? You will get off all but +the exciseable articles to-night?” + +Studley explained that the bottles were to be packed in between the +larger articles, as in the kiln, thus saving carriage in the one case as +they saved fuel in the other. If the officers meant to grow very strict +just now, it might become necessary to have a separate kiln for burning, +and a separate package, rather than keep eleven twelfths of the +manufacture waiting for the rites to be performed on the exciseable +portion. + +The weighing was more a matter of show than use; for Durell was anxious +not to prevent the departure of the goods. He even tried his hand at +packing, and was not out of humour when plainly told that they could do +better without him. Studley hinted that he might be more acceptable +among the ladies, who had probably something to tell him about Jersey +cows and orchards; but Durell took his stand near a boy who was +beginning the practice of his art. The exciseman crossed his arms, and +leaned against the wall while watching and commenting upon the progress +of the lad, in shaping his little pots upon the wheel. + +“Very fair! very fair, lad! Round it,—with a delicate rounding,—and coax +it,—and bulge it,—and draw it narrow. ’Tis as if it made itself, or grew +with a touch of magic. Pshaw! you have brought it off awry. ’Tis but a +slovenly piece, after all. I should think myself a clever fellow, too, +if I could come as near the mark as that. You are a lucky one to have +that kind of work under your hands.” + +The boy looked up with an intelligent smile. He had lately been promoted +from turning the lathe, and the sense of his new dignity shone in his +countenance as the gentleman looked on. The gentleman still +soliloquized. + +“Young thoughtless things like you see no more in such occupation than +making so much clay into so many pots, for so much wages; and, perhaps, +the pride of being a skilled workman. But those that have spent their +first years in the fields, and have wandered about the world since, see +much blessing to you in having beauty before your eyes, and growing up +under your hands. ’Tis well for you that there is something to keep you +fresh in all the dust of this place, and all the glare and noise of the +street. The spirit of beauty that hung the cloud curtains of God’s +throne may look bright down upon you, even here. Blessings on her, and +Him that made her!” + +The boy’s rising colour seemed to show that he heard and partly +understood, though he proceeded diligently with his work. + +“Did you ever go into the country, lad?” inquired Durell. “Did you ever +see a green field?” + +“Not he, I’ll be bound,” answered the little boy at the neighbouring +lathe, who became impatient to be noticed. “My father took me to +Tottenham once, and I had some ale; but _his_ mother never lets him go +anywhere.” + +“She does,” asserted Brennan, turning red again. “She lets me stay out +on the wharf till bed-time; and when I got a new coat given me, she went +all the way into the Park with me, one Sunday afternoon.” + +“You saw some green grass, there?” + +“Yes, Sir, and the swans.” + +“And plenty of ducks?” + +“I did not care so much about them,—just like soda-water bottles with +wings, when they are flying. But I made a swan, sir, when I came back.” + +“What do you do out on the wharf till bed-time?” + +“Look at the boats passing under the bridge, sir. And there are heaps of +things that look better as it grows dark.” + +“What sort of things?” + +“Baskets of things on the wharf, heaped up; and barrows and packages——” + +The boy at the lathe interrupted his companion by laying an information +against him. There was not such a thing as a bit of slate ever found +upon the wharf that was not covered over with Brennan’s drawings of +barrows, and boats, and baskets, and sometimes Mr. Studley’s greyhound. + +“I made a greyhound,” observed Brennan, looking up; “and when it was +baked, Mr. Studley knew it for his own.” + +“When shall you have a new coat again?” asked Durell. “Confound the +question! just as if we could not get you a coat among us! You shall go +to a place, Brennan,—I will take you to a place where you will see +something prettier than that pitcher you seem to be admiring so much;— +something that I think you will like better than green fields.” + +“On a Sunday, sir?” + +“No; I believe not. Studley! The British Museum is not open on a Sunday, +is it?—No, boy; it must be some other day.” + +“But I can’t go any other day,” said the boy mournfully, + +“O yes; cursed be he that shuts out such as you from feeding your +genius,—from adoring God in using his gifts” + +“Perhaps you would ask for a part holiday, sir?” suggested the boy. + +“Will I? Ay——” But Durell remembered that he was an exciseman, and must +not ask favours. In a cooler tone, he promised the boy to remember him; +and desired that the greyhound and the swan might be ready for +exhibition the next time he came. He left the boy happy in devising an +opportunity for asking some of the wise men about the pottery what the +British Museum was. The information gleaned in the course of a week did +not give him any clear comprehension of what he should see that he +should like better than green fields. “There’s a monster of a wild beast +on the stair, as I’ve heard,” said one. “There’s a power of stones, laid +out in rows, as my own eyes saw,” attested another. “Gold and precious +stones! Lord bless ye! nothing like it. Only what you may pick up in the +road any day.” “You forget the skin of the head with the hair on it,” +observed another. “A wild man’s hair and the skin of his head.” The boy +could not conceive how any of these things could be prettier than swan +or greyhound. He could only wonder whether the gentleman was in earnest +about giving him a new coat, and would remember to take him to that odd +place. + +The ware was precisely in time for the waggon. It was as near missing as +possible; and while Le Brocq wiped his brows after his toil and hurry, +he looked reproachfully at Durell. He found that no farming labours were +so fatiguing as waiting the pleasure of an exciseman, in the heat and +dust of a pottery. + +“You look at me,” observed Durell. “You wish me a hundred miles off, I +see: but I can’t help the system; and I tell you, you are better off +than many of your neighbours. Only one-twelfth of your manufacture is +exciseable, and——” + +“That is the very thing I complain of,” said Le Brocq. “To be worried +and watched for such a little matter!” + +“I think it our business to complain of that,” replied Durell. “There is +some satisfaction in one’s supervision when one collects enough to make +it worth while—a hundred pounds or two. But it makes us feel like so +many fools to be trudging here, and riding there, to collect less than +would mend our shoes or feed our horses. In your business, there are but +nine men that pay more than a hundred a-year in duty; and of that, they +get back a third part when they export.” + +“No more than nine?” + +“In all England; and seven pay less than 1_l._ a-year. Here are we bound +to visit their potteries every day, and as much oftener as they choose +to call us, to collect fifteen-pence, or seven shillings and sixpence, +or a guinea a-year! ’Tis a farce.” + +“I should think these people would pay three times the sum to have you +keep off their premises, every day of the year; and that would save your +salary;—for I suppose you have one.” + +“To be sure; and hundreds more of us. How would you have the whole +kingdom watched,—every maker of glass, and soap, and beer, of bricks, +and paper, and starch, and spirits,—every grower of hops,—every maltster +and seller of tea and sweet wines and hides,—how would you have all +these people watched and made to pay their fines and forfeitures, +without an army of excisemen? and who will be an exciseman without pay? +You may talk of the church,(heaven preserve it!) but I know one thing +like it. The church has its hierarchy,—its gradation from the archbishop +to the curate, all salaried. The excise has its hierarchy, too,—from the +gentlemen that sit as judges in the court, with their messengers always +in waiting, down to the poor devils that are for ever tramping in the +outrides and footwalks.” + +Le Brocq would not hear another word in the way of comparison of a +hierarchy which existed for the purpose of supplying the people with +religious aids, and one which levied a most vexatious tax. Durell could +not refrain from going on to magnify the body to which he belonged. He +told of the fifty-six collections into which England and Wales are +divided; and the subdivision of these into districts, each with its +supervisor; and the further division into outrides and footwalks, with a +gauger or surveyor in each;—as elaborate a spy-system, at the utmost +possible cost, as had ever been invented, his Jersey friend thought. + +“By no means,” protested Durell. “The Customs beat us in expense, in +more ways than one. In one respect only, the difference is more than +180,000_l._ We excisemen can live in houses that were built for other +people: but the coast-guard must have cottages for themselves alone; and +this 180,000_l._ is what they cost. And then, if we have excise duties +that yield less than any customs, they have a vast number more that +yield but little. When 566 articles pay customs duties, and 510 of them +yield under 10,000_l._ a-year, the expense must be greater in proportion +to the gain than in any folly that the excise can practise.” + +“They are not quite foolish enough yet, I suppose, to interfere with an +entire branch of trade, for the sake of raising a few shillings or +pounds here and there?” + +“The two are pretty much on a par there. If we plague all the +stone-bottle makers in England for the sake of little more than 3000_l._ +a-year, our brethren of the Customs pry into all the cordage that comes +into the kingdom for the sake of less than 150_l._” + +Aaron could speak to the annoyance of having his cordage taxed at the +custom-house on the south coast, when he had two or three times wished +to sell in England such produce of his rope-walk as was not wanted in +Jersey. Yet, as a Channel Island man, he had been treated leniently; +being charged no more duty than would countervail what the English had +paid in tax before they could bring their article into the market. + +“Well; I am gone,” said Durell. “I only stayed to show you Jerseymen +that we are not quite the worst set of tax-gatherers in the world. If +you are willing to be on good terms, so are we: but I must tell you, Mr. +Aaron, that it is not every man of our tribe that would bear to be +scowled at, as you have scowled at me to-day; nor could I always bear it +myself: for I do not boast of my temper. If you will consider your +interest——” + +“What’s that to you?” + +“Very true: so good bye till to-morrow. If you should want me sooner, it +may give you the least trouble to send to Finch’s glass-house, near at +hand. I am going there now; and one or other of us will be on the +premises till night. I wish you joy of that lad Brennan. If you make the +most of him, you may find yourselves in luck. Good day.” + + + + + CHAPTER IV. + + THE PHENOMENON AGAIN. + + +Mrs. Durell was the only acquaintance Anna wished to have in the +neighbourhood of her new home. From what Durell had dropped about her, +and from her being a native of Jersey, it seemed desirable that the +women of Le Brocq’s family should know her. They gave broad hints to +this effect; and Durell frequently promised that his wife should come +and offer neighbourly assistance to the strangers: but she never came. + +This neglect could not appear wonderful to any one who knew the parties. +Durell projected more achievements for his wife than she could have +executed if he had himself imposed no toils and cares upon her: and, +besides, she had long learned to distrust his opinions of new people, +and to dread his introductions to strangers; and for his sake as much as +her own, she deferred to the last moment the forming of any new +connexions, even of common acquaintanceship. She never reminded him, +otherwise than by distant allusion, of the delightful family whom he had +bidden her receive as friends, not thinking of doubting their honour +because some mystery hung about them,—the family of dear friends who +were afterwards all hanged or transported for coining. She never spoke +of the runaway apprentice who had been housed by them that he might have +the advantage of a fair trial on the stage, and who disappeared with his +host’s best suit of clothes, with which to figure on some other stage. +She allowed her husband to forget the scrape she had been brought into +when taken up as a receiver of stolen goods, because she had been daily +seen in company with the gipsies in whose society he delighted. She did +not trouble him by a recurrence to past misfortunes; but she naturally +grew more and more careful to avoid any future ones. On the present +occasion, she held back, partly with the desire that something should be +ascertained respecting the character of the Le Brocqs before she +involved herself with them, and partly that her husband’s quarter’s +salary might be in the purse before she was called upon to exercise +hospitality. As often as Durell extolled Anna as the sweetest and +softest of maidens, with a cheek which shamed the report that the lasses +of a Jersey farm-house blush yellow, and an eye whose timid glance never +fell before another, the wife assured herself that she should only see +one more of the multitude of divinities who had caught her husband’s +fancy without impairing his constancy to her. As often as he told her +what she lost in not witnessing the initiation of Le Brocq and his +partner into life in Lambeth, she felt that she could wait for the +spectacle of their peculiarities till she wanted that variety at home +which her husband’s caprices incessantly provided for her. + +She was glad that his employment took him abroad during the early part +of the day, that he might escape witnessing the toils which he imposed +upon her. One morning, for instance, when she had evaded his question +whether she would go that day to see Mrs. Le Brocq and the blessed Anna, +she had to assist her maid in baking an extempore batch of bread, +because one hearty person after another had been invited in, the night +before, who had eaten up warm all that had just come out of the oven. An +array of glasses, with remains of spirit and water, stood to be rinsed +and put away. His coat lay craving mending in the flap, which had been +almost torn off by the snappish dog, brought home because he thought it +had lost itself. A beautiful piece of French china was to be put +together again, if possible, the child having broken it after warnings +duly repeated. Nobody could be more sorry for the disaster than Durell +himself. He seemed ready to weep over his mother’s favourite bowl; but +he really did not suppose the child would have let it down, and he had +not the heart to take away any beautiful thing from before its eyes. It +might please Heaven some day to take away the child’s eyesight, and then +who would think of the china being broken, while in the sufferer’s mind +it remained entire, an additional form of grace. It was impossible to +dispute this reasoning while such a sufferer sat in the chimney-corner; +and the bowl was carefully laid aside to be mended. + +“Mother,” said Mary, “do let me take my work into the parlour. I can +stitch and wait upon Stephen too.” + +“Stay where you are, my dear. Jack can wait upon Stephen. If you finish +your wrist-band in half an hour, you shall help to mend the bowl.” + +Mary knew there was no use in repeating her request. She could only sigh +when she heard Jack’s bursts of laughter at Stephen’s droll faces, and +wish that Stephen would come into the kitchen, and make faces there. +When Stephen began to sing, all went well; for he could be heard, not +only in the kitchen, but across the street. Some time after the song had +come to an end, when two inches of stitching still remained to be done, +Mary heard a tinkling among the unwashed glasses, and looked up. + +“O, mother,” cried she, “there’s Jack draining the glasses!” + +The little fellow explained that it was in behalf of Stephen, who had +asked for these remains of spirit and water, because he was dry with +singing. Mrs. Durell shook the flour from her hands, filled a fresh +glass of spirit and water, and carried it herself to Stephen, requesting +him to be so kind as not to offer a drop to the child. If he would call +when he had done his glass, Jack should return to wait upon him. She +meantime encouraged the boy to talk to her, in order to prevent his +stealing back to Stephen before he was called. Jack was already as like +his father as an infant can be to a grown man; and it was undesirable to +give him any pleasant associations with a dram. Jack began with his +usual question, + +“Why can’t Stephen see?” + +He had been told by the maid that it was because Stephen had no eyes; +and he wanted to see whether this would be the reply now given. His +mother told him that Stephen’s eyes were not like other people’s. Jack +was now baffled. He had prepared his answer,—that Stephen had two eyes, +for he had walked round Stephen and counted his eyes. + +“But,” said he, “if his eyes are not like ours, how did he see Betty +just going to let down the milk?” + +“He never did, my dear. He never sees anything.” + +“O, but he did: for he pulled away his coat tail, for fear the milk +should fall upon it. Besides, he has two eyes, for I saw them myself.” + +Whether Stephen’s ears were as serviceable as his eyes were the +contrary, may be left to conjecture: but, before Mrs. Durell could +question the child as to what he meant about the milk, Stephen was +groping his way into the kitchen, and jokingly asking whether he could +not assist in the baking. He had kneaded bread in his day, he said, and +no one was more fond of the steams of the oven. He and Jack were +presently busy with blind-man’s-buff, while Mary made a finish to her +wrist-band with terrible long stitches, in order to put away everything +that might be knocked down, and join in the sport, till mother should be +ready to mend the china. + +While she stood breathless to see what would become of Jack, now penned +in a corner, stifling his screams and stamping, as Stephen’s broad hands +seemed descending on his head, a tap at the door was heard, and Mary was +desired to open it. As Anna stepped in, with a gentle inquiry whether +she might speak with Mrs. Durell, Jack had an unexpected escape. Stephen +relinquished his search in the corner, and slipped cleverly into the +back parlour to search for his victim, though the child shouted, + +“I am not there, Stephen: indeed I am not there. I am here.” + +Mary pushed the noisy child into the parlour, and shut the door, that +her mother might be able to hear what the visitor had to say. + +“I hope you will not take it amiss that I came, Mrs. Durell; but Mr. +Durell told us we might ask you anything we wanted, as strangers, to +know. Our name is Le Brocq.” + +“A name I know very well, through my husband. Pray sit down, and tell me +if I can be of any service to you. Mary, set a chair.” + +“Mr. Durell said you would come, or I should have come before,” observed +Anna. “He thinks as we do, that God makes men love their country that +they may help one another when they chance to be far away from it. That +is,—I don’t know that we can help you; but you may like to talk about +Jersey sometimes.” + +“O, yes. We are very fond of thinking of Jersey. But can I assist you? +As new-comers, you may want to be put in the way of something.” + +“Why, we do; and my mother thought you would tell us where you buy your +tea. We are sure they cheat us as new-comers, and I don’t know what we +shall do if it goes on.” + +“You do not expect to get fine tea at half-a-crown a pound, I suppose, +as you did at St. Heliers.” + +“We did not know—I don’t exactly see—Nobody told us there would be such +a difference.” + +“The difference there always is where the king lays on taxes.” + +“O, yes: but the taxes are such a mere nothing, we are told! And there +is such a difference between half-a-crown and seven shillings! The king +can never spend all that difference on all the tea that is sold; +especially as they say the Company get as much as they wish, selling it +at half-a-crown in Jersey and Guernsey.” + +“The Company has not to keep excisemen in the neighbourhood of every +tea-shop, to take stock, and weigh the tea, and measure the canisters; +and to see that prosecutions are set on foot when the excise laws are +broken. All this cannot be done without money; and so the king does not +get all the difference we have to pay.” + +“So you pay seven shillings a pound for tea?” + +“We did; but now we find we must be content with a lower-priced tea. We +pay 5_s._ 6_d._, and we don’t take it three times a day, or make it so +good as we did in Jersey.” + +“Ah! but my mother has no idea of any change from what we used to do at +home; and my father says we shall be ruined presently, if we go on +paying away money as we do now. Till we came here, we had seldom +anything to pay for but tea and sugar, and the tax; but now we have to +buy almost everything; and we get quite frightened. The tea cannot be +done without, on my mother’s account: but I must see whether I cannot +manage to make some things at home that we now pay high for.” + +“That will hardly help you much; for if you happen to miss the tax on +the manufacture, you will have to pay the tax on the materials. In this +country, you can scarcely use anything that is not taxed either in the +material or in the making; and there is the difference between this +place and Jersey. But, to set against this, what you sell is dearer, as +well as what you buy.” + +“But not in a way that profits us, my father says. If he reckoned only +the clay, brought from Devonshire, and the mill, and the wheel and +lathe, and the furnaces, and the salt, these would not cost enough to +prevent the ware from being very cheap. But the coals pay tax, and the +bricks pay tax, as well as the ware itself; and, especially, the men’s +wages are high, because all that those wages buy is taxed: and my father +has to pay all these taxes, and wait so long before he is paid again, +that it requires a great deal of money to carry on his business, just at +the time that we have to spend more for our living than we ever did +before.” + +“Ah! my dear, you have not yet got used to the ways of living in +England. You never knew in Jersey, nor we either, what it was to fall +short of money, though there was never much more than enough for present +small purposes. Here it is the custom to receive larger sums, and to pay +away largely also: so that it requires very close calculation to avoid +being out of cash sometimes.” + +“You find it so!” cried Anna, in a delighted tone. “Now, let me mend +that china bowl for you, while you tell me all about it.” + +Mary put in her claim to be allowed to help; and while she worked the +cement, and Anna nicely joined in bit after bit of the fragments, Mrs. +Durell explained that she did not mean to say but that her husband was +very properly paid; but that in a country whose custom is to charge the +prices of commodities with a variety of taxes, the prices are not only +high, but high in different proportions; and the charges get so +complicated that people cannot at all tell how their money goes, and can +with difficulty frame their calculations of expense when they come from +a country where they have been accustomed to pay their contribution +direct to the state. The only certainty is, that the articles they most +need will bear the heaviest tax charge; because, in its choice of +taxable articles, government naturally fixes on those which must be most +extensively bought. And, as she shaped her loaf, she told how much +bread, yielding duty, had been consumed within those walls since +yesterday morning. Her husband had told her of a cruel method of +taxation in Holland, in old times, when so much was paid to government +for every loaf that passed the mouth of the oven. Disagreeable as this +method must be, she doubted whether it could be so costly as the +management by which the price of bread was raised in this country. + +“Ah! I see you look surprised at the quantity of bread we bake: but my +husband likes to be hospitable.” + +“Such a man must like it,” replied Anna. + +“What kind of man do you mean?” asked the wife, smiling. + +“Men that give their best attention to what is of most consequence, +instead of least. Mr. Durell looks very grave and attentive when he is +talking to Mr. Studley, and counting the pots that come out of the kiln; +but his mind is given to very different things from those. If Mr. Durell +had but the shoes on his feet in all the world, he would give them to +the first lame beggar he met, and go barefoot.” + +“He would. You know him,” replied the wife. “He does as he would be done +by.” + +“He would leave the gleanings of the field, and the missed olives, for +the widow, and the fatherless, and the stranger, if he lived in the +Scripture land,” continued Anna; “and the reason why is, because he had +rather see people happy than grow rich himself.” + +“You should hear him when he speaks the piece of poetry that he loves +above all others, though he knows a vast deal. It is about mercy that +‘blesses him that gives and him that takes.’” + +“That is Scripture,” replied Anna, gravely. ‘And how the Lord Jesus said +that it is more blessed to give than to receive.’” + +“The one comes of the other, no doubt; but it is in poetry that he tells +it to me. He has mercy for ever on his tongue. It is a sort of rule of +his, in judging of other people. But people are very apt to say that +justice and mercy do not agree.” + +“How can they think of God, then?” asked Anna. “But if such a man as Mr. +Durell is not always as just as he should be, it may be owing to +something else than his being merciful.” + +“How do you mean ‘not just?’” inquired the wife, rather coldly. + +“I am sure we have no reason to think him otherwise than just in the +business he has to do in the pottery,” replied Anna. “He is very strict +and honourable to the king; and when he seems hard on my father, we know +it is not his fault. But he speaks a little unfairly of people +sometimes——” + +“Only when they do mean things.” + +“Well: but still harshly; and if he puts more upon you than is quite +your share, and gives away money, now, don’t pretend to think such +things right——it may be owing to his having been badly taught, or more +sorely tempted than we are, and not to his tender heart.” + +“I would not hear so much from another,” said Mrs. Durell; “but you mean +no pain to me, nor slight to him, I see. And so I will say that I am so +much of your mind, that I do not grudge baking bread even for those that +eat it only for the sake of the spirit that is to wash it down; and as +to the money we owe, God knows how vexed I am when I cannot pay it +without putting my husband in mind of it. There is a poor creature with +us now——” + +“Here’s papa,” cried Mary. + +Durell entered, looking not quite so full of mercy as Anna had sometimes +seen him. He asked his wife sternly, why she had allowed a stranger to +come and ask as a favour that which she ought to have offered? + +“Well, John, I am sorry. I can truly say it. I am sorry I missed knowing +this young woman till now.” + +Anna interposed with a piece of information that she had lately gained,— +that it was dangerous to make new acquaintances in London, without a +very precise knowledge who people were; and how should Mrs. Durell know +who they were? + +“What more has she learned of that since breakfast?” inquired Durell. +Anna looked bashful while she acknowledged that Mrs. Durell had yet had +no further testimony than her own word for her respectability. + +“But she has,” replied Durell. “The impress of truth upon the brow—God’s +own seal. She might have trusted me for knowing it at sight.” + +“It having never deceived you, John,—do you mean to say? Ah! you are +going to protest that you knew all the time when people were cheating +you. I ask no more than that you should let me see for myself when there +is truth sealed upon the brow. I will not be so long in looking for it, +next time.” + +“Mr. Durell,” said Anna, “Aaron has been with you this morning; did +he——” + +“I beg your pardon. Your brother has not been with me this morning.” + +“I heard him directed to go, and to give you notice of something. I was +going to ask whether he told you that Brennan is to be let off his work, +as you wished, for some reason,—I don’t know what. He said something +about it to Mr. Studley,—that you were going to get some new clothes for +him.” + +“Did I promise that? O, I remember. The lad’s a genius, my dear,” (to +his wife,) “and we must find up a suit of clothes for him, in some way; +and then——” + +Mrs. Durell shrugged her shoulders, while Anna explained that after the +clothes should come the holiday. + +“I thank you much. I thank your father as for a favour done to myself,” +replied Durell. “My very best thanks to your father.——Jack, my boy, +what’s the matter now?” cried he, snatching up the child, who was +whimpering, and only wanted encouragement to burst into a loud cry. + +“Stephen won’t let me go with him. Stephen is getting out of the window, +and he won’t lift me out that I may lead him.” + +True enough; Stephen was found stepping out of the low parlour window +into the street. + +“Poor fellow! what fancy has taken him now?” said Durell, running into +the parlour, followed by every body from the kitchen. “He is a singular +character,” he proceeded to explain to Anna. “It has pleased the +Almighty to lay a heavy hand upon him, and to permit us to lighten the +burden. I always held that this outward darkening of the man was like +the shrouding of the firmament in midnight,—making all that moves in it +the brighter and clearer; and, since I have known this man, I am sure of +it.” + +“He is not blind,” said Anna, quietly. “We know him well; we have too +good reason to know him. He carried off half our stock of linen.” + +“You are mistaken,” averred Durell, with sparkling eyes. “He has been +living in our house,—never out of our sight, ever since you came to +London.” + +Anna explained that she referred to a time before her family left +Jersey. Mrs. Durell looked at her husband, as if appealing to him +whether Stephen had not proved himself familiar with Jersey. + +“Damn your suspicious glances!” cried Durell. “You give glances that you +know the poor fellow can’t see, because you are afraid to speak your +thought in words that he can hear. Curse your cold-hearted way of giving +ear to every slander you hear!” + +“Do not say slander,” replied Anna. “I charge Stephen before his face. +Let him say how he left our farm. Could a blind man, seen to his rest at +night, find his way through the kitchen and out at the door of a strange +house, and through the yard, and past the orchard down to the brook, and +over the narrow foot-bridge, before he could even get to the winding +lane, and then——” + +“Stuff! All nothing to do with it!” cried Durell. “It was another man.” + +“Even my Jack found out that Stephen could see,” interposed Mrs. Durell. + +“Shame on you! Shame to oppress an afflicted man on the word—the fancy +of a child that has a fancy for marvels!” cried Durell. “God forgive me +for such a scandal happening in my house! As if it was not enough that +God’s blessed light is taken away, so that the afflicted cannot know his +country by its lying green in the midst of the blue waters,—as if it was +not enough that he must return daily thanks for daily bread to strangers +that bestow charity, instead of to God that rewards toil,—but he must be +insulted before those from whom he has his all! Have done with your sly +looks, and your hinting that he is not blind! Bring me a dumb man that +shall swear a perjured oath, and a deaf one that shall leer at a foul +song, and I will believe that this sightless creature is he that robbed +you. Then I will turn him out; but till then I will protect him. Sit +down, Stephen.” + +“I must go,” said Anna. “I say nothing now, Mr. Durell, about protection +being every body’s right; and, as to insult——” + +The tears sprang to her eyes, and she found it best to hasten away. She +did not think she could stand another fiery glance from Durell, or bear +to look again at Stephen, as he stood, the personification of resigned +meekness. + +“You will come again,” said Mrs. Durell, anxiously, as she followed Anna +to the door. + +“I don’t know, indeed. Mr. Durell would make one think one’s self wrong, +in spite of every thing. He means only to be generous. He almost +frightens me, lest I should have made a great mistake. I am sure, in +that case, I could not do enough to make up for it. But, if ever I was +certain, it is now.” + +“There is no mistake, my dear, depend upon it. I have been suspecting, +for some time, that Stephen is not so blind as he seems. Do not fret +yourself about anything my husband said: but I am very sorry——the first +time of your coming——” + +“O, don’t be sorry. If it had been you, I should have minded it much +more. Do you know, Mrs. Durell, I often wonder what would become of us +all, if women quarrelled as men do.——Well; I know it is said that +women’s quarrels are very sharp; it may be so, though I have never been +in the way of seeing any: but there is something so deep and awful in +men’s quarrels, that I can hardly fancy their being heartily made up +again.” + +Mrs. Durell looked as if waiting for a further explanation; but Anna +caught another glimpse of Durell, and was gone. + + + + + CHAPTER V. + + AN ECONOMICAL PROJECT. + + +Anna spoke from strong feeling when she reported ill of men’s tempers. +In her own family the maternal despotism had been very quietly borne; +and the paternal rule, however strict, could not materially interfere +with the objects and pleasures of the young women in a retired +farm-house. But Aaron had never been quiet in the yoke; and Malet +sometimes forgot the policy of the lover in resenting the dictation of +the father of his beloved. Since the removal of the family to London, +there had been frequent contests between Le Brocq and Aaron, each of +which was more bitter and more useless than the last. It was as absurd +in Le Brocq to treat his son as a child, as it was in Aaron to conclude +that every order given him by his father must be more or less wrong. The +effect of the mutual folly was to throw Aaron into league with Studley,— +a league which began when Studley smiled at Le Brocq’s instructions to +his son on matters which neither of them understood; and which was +strengthened in proportion as Le Brocq became discontented with +Studley’s assumption of authority in the establishment where he was only +foreman, after all. The proprietor was now frequently heard to say that +he had no power over his own workmen, and that his foreman and his son +carried every thing their own way; while Aaron had so far advanced in +his progress to independence as to refuse to answer every question +because it was a question, and to consult Studley before he acted on any +suggestion whatever. There was, in consequence, so much constraint in +every meeting of the household, such grave silence or painful bickerings +at every meal, that it began to be a doubt in the mind of each member of +the family, whether it would not be better for the father and son to +separate at once than to go on in the high-road to an irreconcilable +quarrel. + +On returning home, Anna walked straight through the yard into the +manufactory, hoping that the emergency of the occasion would be a +sufficient excuse with her father for the intrusion. She gave +unintentional notice of her approach by jingling a pile of ware as she +passed. + +“Here they come,” said one and another within hearing, as she advanced +to the kiln where some knocking was going on, and three or four persons +seemed to be busy. A man, who was holding a candle stuck in a lump of +clay, observed hoarsely, “Here they come.” “Here they come,” repeated +the treble voice of the boy who was receiving the blocks of baked clay +which had filled up the arch. “Are they coming?” asked the mounted man +who was removing the blocks, and letting out the hot air of the kiln. +“Let them come, if they can’t let us alone for once,” growled Le Brocq, +who was satisfying his sight with the piles of spirit casks ranged one +above another in the kiln, with each its four rims of brown ochre, while +jars and bottles were nicely packed in the spaces between, no one +touching another, but with scarcely room for a hand to pass. + +“Back! back! Go in!” exclaimed Le Brocq, when he saw Anna’s timid face, +instead of meeting the bright brown eye of Durell. “This is no place for +you. You know I desired——” + +“But, father, I have something very particular to say. I have seen +Stephen.—No, I have not got back our linen. I am afraid we shall never +get it back. Perhaps if you spoke to Mr. Durell——” + +“I will—I will: when he comes this afternoon. Go in, child. Go!” + +“But I rather think Mr. Durell is not coming this afternoon. He says he +has not seen Aaron, nor heard from him.” + +“Not seen Aaron! Not had the notice! Bless my soul! what are we ever to +do at this rate? No more of him!” suspecting that Anna was going to say +something for her absent brother. “He shall know my mind when I see him. +Booth, do you think we may go on?” + +Booth considered that it would be a vexatious thing to be informed +against for such a trifle. It was an ugly thing, too, to run the risk of +the penalty. He stood with the bar in his hand, ringing it against the +bricks. + +“You can bear witness that I did all I could, by sending my son with a +notice,” observed Le Brocq. “I dare say we shall find it is some mistake +of Anna’s. It is too late now to defer the drawing.” + +“As you please, sir: not that I can exactly say I witnessed Mr. Aaron’s +being sent with the notice; but I dare say it will be all safe enough, +sir. Shall I go on?” + +“You could not draw all the large, and leave the duty-paid, could you? +No, no; I see that would not do. You may go on.” + +Studley came up while the hot ware was being quickly handed from man to +boy, and from boy to the ground where it must stand to cool. + +“So! No spies to-day! We are in luck. I thought Durell would oblige me +so far as to consider you, as I made a point of requesting that he +would. I congratulate you on having your premises to yourself, sir, for +once. I shall take care and thank Durell.” + +“Speak for yourself, if you please, sir, but not for me. I am quite +capable of thanking any person that I feel obliged to.” + +Studley made a ceremonious bow; and immediately asked Booth whether, in +his old master’s time, it had ever been allowed to place the ware for +cooling in such a manner as he now beheld. + +“Why, no,” replied Booth; “but such are my orders.” + +“Do you mean to talk to my men about their old master before my face?” +asked Le Brocq. + +“A rather superfluous question, sir, if you heard what I said.” + +“O, father!” interposed Anna, breathlessly. “How I wish you would take +us back to Jersey, and let Malet and Louise come here. My mother is +always talking about the cows, and——” + +“And you want to be milking them again, child? Go away. Go to your +mother. Nobody can leave me to my own business, I think.” + +“If you think so, sir,” said Studley, “perhaps we had better part.” + +“With all my heart, Mr. Studley. I should not have made the proposal +first, as you are an old servant of my uncle’s; but since you offer it, +I am quite willing; and the sooner the better, if I may declare my +opinion.” + +The work-people within hearing had all suspended their business to +listen to this amiable dialogue; and the having an audience determined +Studley to finish with dignity. He thought it a pity that Mr. Le Brocq +had not been more explicit. He would have conferred an obligation by +being so; for an office of high honour and profit had been within reach +of his humble servant for some little time past, which he should +certainly have accepted but for the promise he had given his old master +not to refuse his best services to the new proprietor,—with a sort of +understanding, moreover, that some acknowledgment in the form of some +kind of partnership would follow. + +Out of the question entirely, Le Brocq declared. While he had a son and +a son-in-law—— + +Beside the question entirely, Studley averred. The son-in-law being in +charge of the Jersey farm (unlike all other farms, if the family report +were true), and the son being in course of establishing himself in a +distinct line of business, there could be no competitor;—not that he now +desired a partnership. He would not accept the largest share that the +nature of his services could be supposed to authorise; the office he +spoke of being, to a man of ambition like himself, so far preferable. He +would take leave to commence his canvas immediately; explaining to all +his friends (meaning no offence) the reasons of his appearing so tardily +in the field. + +A pang shot through the heart of Le Brocq at the intimation that his son +was about to leave him. He made no inquiry, and had the resolution to +avoid showing that the intelligence was new to him. While he commanded +every man to resume his employment, Studley stalked out of the +manufactory by one door, while Anna stole back by the way she had come. + +In the yard she met Aaron. Her immediate object was to prevent his +meeting his father at present. She wanted to know whether he had +delivered the notice a sufficient number of hours before. No: he had had +something else to do first. He meant to go presently. When told that it +was too late, he supposed that it would not signify, but did not see why +there should have been such a prodigious hurry about drawing the kiln. +He was sure Studley could not have authorised it. + +Anna had so much to ask and to tell that she wished Aaron would now go +with her, as he had promised, on an expedition which must not be much +longer delayed. It was time to be thinking about a washing of clothes; +there having been none since the unfortunate one which Stephen had +turned into an occasion of disaster. Anna and her mother knew nothing +yet of English society which could lead them to suppose that there was +anything peculiar in their methods touching the purification of their +apparel; but as their stock had been somewhat circumscribed since the +trespass of the thief, Anna began to think of arranging the +circumstances of time and place; and in a few minutes, when she had +accounted to her mother for her proceedings, her brother and she were on +their way in search of a clear stream where the operation might be +conducted after the only method she had yet heard or conceived of. + +It seemed a pity to wander so far from home, when a prodigious river was +running near the back door: but Anna had watched the Thames, through all +its moods, for a fortnight, and had never found it sufficiently pure for +her purpose. Besides, there were so many people always about that she +should not have courage to sing at the pitch which was necessary to +insure good washing. Her having seen no washing in the river since she +came was a strong presumption that the Thames did not afford the proper +bath. It must be some pure brook between two green hills, with alder +bushes on which to hang the linen to dry, and some quiet nook where it +might be deposited for a night or two in safety. Such a brook were the +brother and sister now in search of, on a hot day in June, when alders +and green banks would be peculiarly refreshing. They were prepared for +having some way to go, which was very well. They were in no hurry, and +promised each other not to return till they had accomplished their +object. They little knew what they promised; for, though they were cured +of the fancy of myrtles before the house and an orchard behind, they had +no doubt whatever that “country” meant hill and dale, wood and stream. +When they arrived at Kennington Common, they stood and laughed at the +entire absence of trees, quite as much as from the pleasure of seeing an +expanse of green once more. While panting with heat, they wondered that +the Kennington people did not prefer high banks with overhanging hedges +to white palings which fatigued the eye under a summer sun. The stream +which flanks the Brixton road was the first thing they saw which could +at all answer their purpose; and this was decided to be too public. On +they wandered, tempted by the sight of rising ground, to some lanes near +Herne Hill and Dulwich; and in these lanes, and the fields which +bordered them, Anna found something at last which nearly satisfied her +heart. There was a carpet of daisies under foot; and wild roses, some +blushing and unfolding, others flaring and bleached in the sun, bloomed +in the hedges. There were no sleek Jersey cows, with their delicate +taper horns and countenances more refined than ever cows had before; and +Anna was disappointed as often as she unconsciously looked for the blue +sea through a gap in the hedge: but the smell of hay came from some +place near, and a thorn which stood in a damp nook had still blossom +enough to remind her of an apple tree. This thorn suggested a happy +thought; and Anna was glad to perceive, on looking round her, that +thorns were abundant in the neighbouring field. She had heard something +of thorn leaves being dried to mix with tea. The most terrifying of the +many fearful household expenses of the Le Brocqs was tea; and it would +be a great relief to lessen it one-half by mixing a large proportion of +English tea with the foreign. + +“And there is the kiln to dry it in,” suggested Aaron. “The frying-pan +full can be dried in no time; and I will look to the shaking the pan, if +my father does not like that you should have anything to do with the +kiln.” + +“And if we find it really good tea, I may perhaps mix some for sale, and +get enough profit to find us in tea. I am sure that would please my +father; and my mother might drink as much as she likes.” + +Anna lost no time in spreading her shawl on the ground, and plucking +leaves from the lower boughs, while her brother climbed somewhat higher, +and chose the most juicy sprouts from the youngest shoots. They agreed +that some good might arise out of the extravagantly high prices which +prevailed in England. In Jersey, where they paid for tea only one-third +what was charged in London, they should never have thought of making use +of the leaves of the thorn; and they supposed that, as they had been +made inventive in this one particular, the people of England might be +generally ingenious in a similar manner. + +Several persons passed through the field before the green heap on the +shawl had grown very large. A woman with a basket on her arm and a +little boy at her heels looked back again and again, all the way to the +stile, and then had to return to fetch away her child, who stood +staring, as if longing to help. + +“You have a basket, I see,” said Anna, smiling. “If you like to carry +away any leaves, pray help yourself.” + +“What may they be for?” + +“To mix with tea. Tea is so very dear now! I suppose you drink tea?” + +“O, yes, ma’am, we take tea,” said the woman: but, instead of filling +her basket, she shook a handful of leaves from her child’s grasp, and, +disregarding his roaring, took him up on one arm, and her basket on the +other, and carried him till he was fairly past the stile. + +Presently came two men, bustling along, as if it had been the coldest +day in January. They halted, however, near the bush. + +“I say,” cried one of them, after a whisper from his companion; “what +are ye arter there?” + +From out of the bush, Aaron made the same answer that his sister had +before given. + +“Smash me! if that baint a good ’un!” cried he, looking at his +companion; and all the way as they proceeded, they were evidently +talking of what they had seen. + +Next approached a stooping old labourer, in a smock-frock, and with a +scythe over his shoulder. He walked painfully, and stopped near the +thorn to wipe his brows. + +He kindly warned the young people to take care what they were about. He +considered them very bold to do what they were doing by broad daylight, +in a field which was a thoroughfare. + +“We have just done,” replied Anna, colouring. “We are going away +directly.” And she drew close to Aaron, to call him away, and tell him +her fears that the owner of the thornbush would not like their gathering +the leaves, if he knew of it. They had better go somewhere else for as +many more as they wanted. As they tied up the shawl by the corners, and +sauntered away, the old labourer shook his head at them several times; +but was silent as an unquestioned oracle. There was no disturbance of +the kind when they had transferred their exertions to a more private +inclosure; and they obtained as large a supply as the shawl could +possibly hold before they stopped to rest. + +“Now, let us sit down, and I will tell you something,” said Anna.—Aaron +stretched himself out at length on the grass, using his bundle for a +pillow. + +“You must not go to sleep,” continued Anna. “I have been to Mrs. Durell +this morning,—(what an odd thing that she did not put me in mind of this +way of getting tea, when I was complaining of the price!)—and there I +saw somebody else, besides Mrs. Durell and her husband. I saw Stephen.” + +“Stephen!” cried Aaron, starting up, now in no danger of going to sleep. +“You silly girl, why did not you tell me that before?” + +“Because I was afraid you would go and be in a passion with Mr. Durell,— +as I am afraid you will be when I have told you all he said,—though, I’m +sure, I am very willing to excuse him. But, Aaron,—do sit down, Aaron. +It will do just as well when we get home again.” + +As if a man who had escaped once could not escape again! Aaron said. If +Stephen was above ground, he would get hold of him,—not only because he +had betrayed hospitality, and stolen the linen, but because he had told +lies about the ways of going on in England,—with all his talk of nobody +paying taxes in England, or merely such a trifle that they never found +it out. + +“But indeed he will not get away,” declared Anna. “Mr. Durell said he +should keep him, and was so angry with me for being sure that it was our +Stephen, that I quite expect Stephen will stay and brave it out. We will +go together, and try what we can do to get back the linen, if——O, Aaron! +if you will but try to keep your temper. But, indeed, Aaron, I had +rather lose all the clothes I have left,—everything I have in the +world,—than see you lose your temper as you do sometimes.” + +“What is it to you?” asked Aaron. + +“You have asked me that very often before, and I have always told you——” + +“Yes; I know—I know. But I am not half so likely to be surly even to +Stephen as to——I tell you, Anna, you have no idea what it is to be under +my father, every hour of the day.” + +“Have not I? I think I have; for, though I do not want more freedom +myself, I know what it must be to you to want it. It makes me turn +sometimes hot and sometimes cold when I hear him answer for you to +strangers, as if you were a child, or settling all your little matters +at home, without so much as ever looking in your face to see how you +like what he is doing.” + +“Really! Do you always see that? If I had known that——” + +“You might have known it. You did know it; for I have told you so a +hundred times.” + +“But one can never be sure of it at the moment; and you always keep your +head down so, when my father and I have any words.” + +“Because I am always thinking what a pity it is that neither of you is +ready with a soft answer; and I must say, you ought to be the readiest, +from your being the son. But is it really true that you are going to +leave my father?” + +“Who said such a thing?” + +“Mr. Studley told my father so, before several of the men, and they must +have seen that he did not know it before.” + +“My father must have put him into a passion, or he would not have let it +out till next week. How much more did he tell you?” + +“Nothing; but you must let me know all now; and my father as soon as we +go home.” + +“There is no reason for its being a secret, further than that the plans +are not all settled yet. Studley happened to know of a glass-bottle +work, where they will be glad to take in an active young partner, with +the prospect of his joining the stone-bottle making with it, by and bye. +Now, you need not look so shocked, as if anybody was thinking of making +away with my father. The thing is this;—that Studley is sure my father +will soon be tired of carrying on his pottery business by himself, and +will be off for Jersey again; and then the business will come to me: and +no two businesses can be more fit to go on together than the black-glass +and the stone-ware. Studley says I shall be one of the first men in +London, some day.” + +“But where is it? Who taught you to make glass? What can you know about +it?” asked the alarmed sister. + +“If I told you I was going to break stones for the roads, I believe you +would ask who had taught me. Why, it is not so difficult to make +bottle-glass as our fish-soup. Put river sand and soapers’ waste into +the furnace, and there you have it;—or, if you like it better, common +sand and lime, with a little clay or sea salt. What can be easier than +that? And where is the risk, with materials that you may pick up from +under your feet almost wherever you go?” + +“If that were all;—but there are so many things besides the making and +selling that have to be attended to in this country!” + +“Why, that is true; or I fancy we should see twice as much glass in +people’s houses as we do. Everybody thinks glass beautiful, and +everybody who has tried it finds it convenient; and yet, I hear, though +there are nearly twice as many people to use it, and twice as much money +to buy it with, there is less glass used in this country than there was +fifty years ago.” + +“Then I am sure I would have nothing to do with it.” + +“I would not, unless I saw the reason, and was pretty sure that the +state of things would change. ’Tis this meddling of the excise that +plagues the glass-makers, and makes them charge the article high,—far +higher in proportion than we have to charge our stone bottles.” + +“That is what I meant when you laughed at me for being afraid. I did not +doubt that you might melt sand and the other stuff properly; but I +thought you might not understand all about the taxes.” + +“Why not as well as another man? to say nothing of a particular good +reason I shall have for knowing. O, I shall only have to give notice of +drawing out bottles; taking care that the notice is given between six in +the morning and eight in the evening; and that the pots are charged with +fresh materials while the officers are by; and that the material is +worked within sixteen hours after the time mentioned; and that I put +down the right number of bottles when I write the declaration, for fear +of being taken in for a fine of 100_l._; and——” + +“Why, this is worse than what my father has to attend to!” + +“But not so bad as if I were going to make other kinds of glass besides +the common black article. There are thirty-two clauses in the Act that +the glass-makers have to work by; and several of them will not concern +me.” + +“I should think that is very lucky; for, you see, you don’t always +remember to give notice, when you are sent on purpose.” + +“I declare I did not forget it. I had something else to do first, that +was all; and my father was in one of his hurries. However, if any +mischief comes of it, I will bear the blame and the cost; and no man can +do more.” + +“I doubt that: I mean that you might be careful not to ruffle another +mind as well as your own. I am sure, Aaron, if you were standing on our +poquelaye, as you used to do, and could with a breath bring up or blow +away thunder-clouds that were ready to blacken the old castle, and set +the seafowl screaming, and throw a gloom over the wide sea and the green +land, it would be your pleasure to keep all bright, and send the ugly +shade down the sky; and yet, if my father and you find each other ever +so calm——” + +“What does it signify? The blackest clouds are soon gone, one way or +another.” + +“But it is not with our minds and our passions as it is with the sky and +the sea. It is God’s pleasure that when the sky is cleared, the face of +the earth should be brighter than ever: but when a quarrel has +overshadowed kindness, the brightest of the sunshine is gone for ever.” + +Aaron found it convenient to look up into the actual sky for something +to say; and he declared that it was well he did, for some such clouds as +his sister had described were making their appearance above the +tree-tops which were beginning to rustle in the rising wind. They lost +no time in returning, resolving neither to look for more streams, nor to +turn aside to call at the Durells’.—Before they reached home, the +streets were as plashy as any lane in Jersey, (which is saying a great +deal,) and the wind roared among the houses like the fiercest furnace +which was to be under Aaron’s charge. The wet was dripping from all the +corners of the bundle they carried; and Aaron undertook to spread out +its contents in the manufactory to dry, while his sister hastened into +the house. + + + + + CHAPTER VI. + + LESSONS IN LOYALTY. + + +In the house sat a merry party;—a really mirthful set of countenances +surrounded the table. Anna wondered for a moment what could have called +up a hearty laugh from her father, this day; but when she saw that +Durell was present, there was no longer any mystery. He and a companion +seemed in a fair way to demolish a pie which Anna knew her mother made a +great point of for to-morrow’s dinner; and (of all odd companions) he +had seated beside him Brennan, the poor boy who wrought at the wheel. +Brennan sometimes made a little progress in diminishing the savoury food +which his patron was heaping on his plate; and then drew back behind +Durell’s broad shoulders, to hide the laughter which he could not +restrain when jokes went round. Master Jack was upon the table, on hands +and knees, looking into the pie and the ale pitcher by turns. Mrs. Le +Brocq was plying her needle with all imaginable diligence, only stopping +when an agony of mirth shook her ponderous form. Le Brocq himself had a +glass of ale in his hand, and a twinkle of good humour in his eye. What +could all this be about? Durell had been applying some of his natural +magic to kindle hearts and melt resolves. He had so vehemently thanked +Le Brocq for consenting to spare Brennan for a few hours, that he had +obtained possession of the boy for this evening as well as to-morrow; +had set Mrs. Le Brocq to work to diminish some hoarded clothes which +Aaron had outgrown before they were worn out, and which would now be a +treasure to Brennan; and had caused dull care to vanish before the +spirit of genial hospitality in Le Brocq’s own heart. + +“Hey, Anna!” cried he. “Look at her, dripping like a fish! Get yourself +dry and warm, my dear, before you sit down. We wondered what had become +of you. I fancied you were up in the clouds somewhere; and, I suppose, +by your look, I was right.” + +“Have you been up in the clouds?” demanded Jack, opening his eyes wide +upon her. + +“Not to-day, dear: but I was once in the middle of a cloud, Jack.” + +“Were you? How? Where? Had you a ladder? Did you climb? Did you fly?” + +A burst of laughter followed, which amazed poor Jack. His father stroked +his head, and bade him not be ashamed. The last was a good guess, +whatever might be thought about the ladder. + +“I was on a high hill,” said Anna, as soon as she could be heard; “and +the cloud came sailing——” + +“Was it all golden and bright? Did it make you shut your eyes?” + +Before Anna could answer, her mother sent her to change her clothes and +bring her work-bag, undertaking to satisfy the child about the cloud. +This she attempted in the antique method,—that is, by saying some +brilliant things that were not true. She appended an account of such a +thunder-storm as had just happened;—how two angry clouds ride up against +each other, and when their edges touch, they strike fire, which is the +lightning; and then one rolls over the other, and makes a great +rumbling, which is the thunder. The frowning child, with his mouth open, +took it all in, and might have got a desperately wrong notion of a +thunder-storm for life, if his father had not interfered. + +“Bless my soul, madam, what do you mean to tell the child next? That the +clouds open and let down dogs and cats to worry naughty boys, I suppose? +I will not have my boy made sport of, I can tell you.” + +“Sport!” exclaimed the perplexed old lady. “I am sure I only meant to +tell him what my mother told me.” + +“Tell him nothing of the kind, if you please. Fairy tales, if you like,— +as many as you like,—pretty allegories of God’s doings, which will speak +one kind of truth to him in proportion as he finds they have not the +kind of truth that he thought. But no lies, madam;—especially, no lies +about God’s glorious works. Jack, you are not to believe a word the lady +has told you. She was only joking with you, boy. When you have forgotten +what she said, I will tell you a true story about a cloud.” + +Jack looked offended at being thus at the mercy of two people who +contradicted each other. Mrs. Le Brocq, who did not clearly understand +what was the matter, not knowing any more about an allegory than about +an alligator, and seeing no great difference between a fairy tale and an +embellished fib, hung her head abashed over her work. This showed Jack +which way his vengeance should be directed. He gave a sort of kangaroo +leap, which brought him in front of Mrs. Le Brocq on the table, seized +the top of her cap (the high Norman peasant cap), and pulled at it with +all his might; albeit he held a handful of hair with it. Brennan was the +quickest in rescuing the complaining lady. Durell caught up Jack, +crying— + +“Bravo, boy; thou’rt as like thy father! Never take a lie quietly, boy. +But, Jack, you have hurt the lady; ask pardon for hurting her, Jack.” + +Jack asked pardon; but he would not kiss Mrs. Le Brocq. Instead of +urging the point against the child’s evident dislike, Durell made the +propitiation himself. He respectfully replaced the cap, delicately +stroked the hair on the forehead, and kissed the cheek;—precisely at +which moment Studley entered the room. + +He professed that he was extremely sorry to disturb the party, whom he +perceived to be very agreeably engaged; and particularly as it happened +to be a little affair of his own which brought him into their presence. +The fact was, he had been a long round in search of Mr. Durell, who +would be found, Mrs. Durell had told him, in the prosecution of his +duty, as usual. + +The office which Studley had referred to in the morning as being his +object of desire in preference to remaining with Le Brocq, was that of +Messenger of the Excise Court, with a salary of 78_l._, to which he +added, in his own imagination, certain ‘advantages.’ He knew that the +Court prefers candidates who are experienced in the manufacture of +exciseable commodities; and he flattered himself that, in conjunction +with other circumstances, his having been concerned in the glass and +stone bottle manufactures, and having mastered the secrets of +soap-making, might be powerful recommendations. In the excise, as in all +spy systems, the rule of action is, ‘set a thief to catch a thief.’ None +are found so apt at detecting revenue frauds, and so eager in informing +against and punishing them, as those who, in their day, have defrauded +the revenue. Studley’s pretensions were excellent, in this point of +view; and he believed that if he could make sure of the interest of two +more high personages, besides those whose good word he had already +solicited, he should be pretty secure of the appointment. + +“I have merely to ask one little exertion from you, Sir,” said he to +Durell. “Everybody knows what interest you have with the gentleman who +befriended you,—who procured you your appointment.” + +“Everybody but myself and he, I suppose. Well, Sir.” + +“Your influence is undeniable, I am well assured. I believe I am +tolerably certain of being made messenger in the place of poor Haggart; +but it would set my mind entirely at ease if you would speak in my +favour to the gentleman in question.” + +“Nobody can be more ready than I am, Sir, to set people’s minds at ease, +when I can; but let me tell you, from the day you get this office, you +will never have a mind at ease.” + +“Ha! ha! very good! That is my own concern, entirely, you perceive. As I +was going to say, you can speak to my fitness for the office, I am sure. +As to politics, for instance, though I should never think of meddling, +you are aware, (which a servant of the government is understood never to +do,) yet I am decidedly a government man. Decidedly so. You remember the +part I took in Gardiner’s election?” + +“Perfectly well; from the pains I took on the other side to counteract +you.” + +“Well, well; that is past and gone. You will not object to a government +servant being of government politics, or to bearing testimony that he is +so. Your known liberality——Your humble servant, Miss Le Brocq,” setting +a chair for Anna, as she appeared with her work-bag. “Let none +depreciate the air of Lambeth who looks upon you, Ma’am.” + +“I won’t detain you, Mr. Studley, to discuss my liberality or any thing +else, now your time is so precious. I have no doubt, Sir, of your +qualifications, from the little I have seen of you; and it gives me +pleasure to serve my neighbours; but it is against my principles that +one officer in an establishment like the Excise should stir to procure +the appointment of another. A man should enter his office unfettered by +obligation to any of the parties with whom he will have to do. This has +been my reason before for declining to interfere in similar cases; and +it is my reason now.—And now, Miss Anna, I have humbly to ask your +pardon——” + +“Excuse my interrupting you,” said Studley; “but I trust, Sir, you will +let the matter remain in your mind, and think better of it.” + +“My decision is final, Mr. Studley. God knows there is so little +opportunity of acting freely on one’s principles in such an office as +mine, that I am little likely to give up my liberty of conscience when +by chance I can use it.” + +And he turned to Anna, to seek forgiveness for his vehemence of the +morning. His soul was so sick with the sight of oppression, that he lost +his self-command (if ever he had any) at the remotest appearance of +bearing hard on the unfortunate. He really had great confidence in +Stephen. He would lay his life that Stephen was an honest fellow; but he +admitted this to be no reason why he should have behaved like a brute to +a lady, who had spoken under a mistake. Studley meanwhile had turned +smilingly to Le Brocq. + +“I shall have better success with you, I fancy, Sir. There is one little +requisite, perhaps you are aware, which I believe I must be indebted to +you for. This office of messenger is an office of trust. Infinite +quantities of money pass through the hands of the messengers of the +Court——” + +“Though taxation is a mere trifle in England.” + +“When I speak of infinite quantities of money, I do not, of course, +intend to be taken literally; but the recovery of common charges, as +well as of fines and penalties, is committed to the messengers; and +theirs is a situation of infinite trust,—requiring security, of course;— +small security;—not above 500_l._ Now, where should I look for this +security but to the respectable house which I have served,—I will say, +faithfully served, for so many years?” + +“To any place rather, I should think. To say nothing, on my own account, +of the doubt whether the extravagance of living in England will leave +500_l._ at my own disposal, it is a clear point that an officer who has +to levy charges should not be under obligations to a man who is subject +to such charges. You must know, Studley, that on the first disagreement, +you must betray your duty to government, or do an ungracious thing by +me; and if——” + +“O, we shall have no disagreements.” + +“I was going to say that if we have no disagreements, we lay ourselves +open to the suspicion of collusion. If Mr. Durell is clear on his point, +I am doubly so on mine. I cannot be your security, Sir; which I am sorry +for, as I should be happy to show that I bear no malice on account of +what passed this morning.” + +“Bear no malice! you do,” exclaimed Studley, unable any longer to keep +his temper. “Collusion, indeed! You talk of suspicion of collusion, when +here I find you heaping favours upon favours on the surveyor,—a man you +never heard of till you were in his power! Suspicion won’t be the word +long.” + +“What does the fellow mean?” asked Durell, his eyes lighting up. + +“I mean, Sir, that here is an empty pie-dish, and an empty ale-jug; and +that this is not the first time I have seen you feasting in this house; +and that the very working boys are taken from the wheel, and dressed and +feasted too at your request; and much besides, Sir. Little things, Sir, +which you may call trifles, Sir, are indications,—are symptoms of great +things, Sir——” + +“Nothing truer,” said Durell, contemptuously. “Paltry things like you, +Studley, are indications how despicable must be the little-great system +to which you will presently belong. A writhing maggot is a symptom that +the carcase is stinking. + +“O, Mr. Durell! Don’t provoke him,” cried Anna. “Do think of the +consequences!” + +“’Tis such angel-tempers as yours, my dear, forgiving rough men’s +brutality, as you forgave me this morning, that encourage us to be +brutal again. Don’t let me off so easily next time, if you wish me +well.” + +And he turned to Studley, as if about to apologize for the offensiveness +of his language, when Studley observed, trying to conceal his passion, + +“It is very kind of you, Madam, to bid him think of the consequences. He +will not have long to wait for the consequences, if he blazes abroad his +disaffection in this manner.—Disaffection! yes.—Do you suppose, Sir, +that your exertions in favour of a certain anti-ministerial candidate at +a late election passed unnoticed? We don’t want to be told that you +could not vote; but there is little use in denying that you declared +your opinion,—daily, hourly, wherever you went,—your opinion as to which +principles ought to be supported. Join this with your avowed contempt of +the establishment in which you serve, and what is the inference,—the +clear inference? It is in vain, Sir, to deny the part you took in the +election I refer to.” + +“Deny it! I glory in it!” thundered Durell, who had started up in the +midst of this attack upon him. + +“Indeed!” muttered Studley, quite perplexed. + +“Indeed! yes, indeed! What should a man glory in but in the use of that +which God gave, and which men dare to meddle with only because they know +too little of its force to dread it. When men once talked of shutting up +the four winds in a cave, it was not from dread of their force, but +because it was mortifying not to know, when those winds were abroad, +whence they came and whither they went; and so when our masters would +put a padlock upon our opinions, it is not because they guess the danger +of shutting in what is for ever expanding, but because they covet the +power of letting them fly this way and that, to suit their own little +purposes, and puff away their own petty enemies. But this flying in the +face of God Almighty is such child’s play, as well as something worse, +that perhaps He may forgive in the infant what He would sorely visit +upon the answerable man.” + +“What is all this?” asked Le Brocq, while the countenances of those +present corroborated the question. + +“Why, just this,” replied Durell, putting a restraint upon himself, and +stopping his rapid walk through the apartment. “The object of taxation +is to support government. The object of government is to afford liberty +and security to every man that lives under it. Yet those by whom the +taxation of the people is managed are to be abridged of their liberty, +if they mean to keep their security. In the most important point of all +others,—in the choice of those who are to govern, they are to have no +liberty of action, and their very thoughts and speech are to be +prescribed. We excisemen are to do nothing towards providing that the +oppressed shall be set free, and the industrious rewarded, and the +ignorant enlightened, and an empire blessed:—we are to do nothing in the +only way in which we could do much. Not only must we surrender our +political rights while receiving our bread; but we must not stimulate +others to do what we must leave undone. Even this is not enough: we must +hush to sleep the will that has been wakened within us, and seem to +believe that which we hate as falsehood, or hang on the foul breath of a +spy, like that fellow, for our bread and our good name.—But, so be it! +We are spies; and it is fitting that we should be at the mercy of a +spy.” + +“But why?” interposed Anna. And Jack seconded the question with, “Why +are you a spy, I wonder?” + +“You may well ask, boy. However, they shall never bind my thoughts, and +chain my tongue,—come of it what may. They heard no complaint from me, +from first to last, about the surrender of my right to vote; but if they +think to prevent me from avowing who is the people’s friend and who the +people’s enemy,—if they suppose I will submit to have it thought that I +am with them when my heart is against them, I will fling back in their +faces the mask they would put upon mine; and go with an unveiled front +where God’s works are for ever drawing out their long tale of truth to +shame man’s falsehoods.” + +“Take me with you then, papa. Do take me with you,” cried Jack. + +“The little master had better make sure of what sort of place he would +have to go to,” observed Studley. “He might not altogether like a jail.” + +“A jail!” cried every body. + +“I mean no more than this,—that the penalty for certain excise offences +is 500_l._; and all people are not always ready to pay 500_l._” + +And Studley went out, now the confirmed enemy of the whole party he left +behind. + +“I am not going to justify that man’s spying and threats,” observed Le +Brocq: “but I really do not see why the government should not make a +point of its own servants being of its own political opinions; and, as +for their not voting at elections, it is a favour done to the people, I +conclude, from the consideration that so large a body of persons, +supposed to be biassed by their dependence on the government, would +often turn the scale in a close contest.” + +“And where can there be a stronger proof of the badness of the system? +Is there no better way of the people paying for government than by their +supporting a host of tax-gatherers, who are first compelled to harass +their supporters by daily ill offices, and then become the slaves of +rulers in proportion as they become hated by the ruled? Let the people +of England come forward like men and Christians, asking to have their +state-subscription levied in the form of a periodical contribution, +rather than wrenched and filched from them after the manner of a theft,— +so that the gang of wrenchers and filchers, of whom I am one, may +support themselves by a more honest labour, and once more become men in +their social rights and their liberty of speech.” + +“Do you mean to remain in your office till that day?” + +“If they will let me exercise ordinary freedom of opinion. Yes: while +the system exists, it is the duty of those who feel its evils to soften +their operation as much as possible. If I resigned to-night, the next +best-drilled spy would take my place, and in some lower rank there would +be room made for some mischief-loving, shabby-souled tyrant;—for who but +such would accept the most hateful of offices with the meanest of +salaries? Frightful as is the sum which Englishmen pay for their +standing spy-army, the forces are so numerous that the pay of each +(considered in connexion with the odium of the office) is not enough to +command the services of honest men. But if you had seen the half of what +has come before my eyes, you would value the blessing of a tender heart, +here and there, among such a tribe as hold the tyranny of the excise in +their power; and you would entreat such an one to keep in his place for +love of the widow and the fatherless, and the poor, and such as have +none to help them.” + +When Durell was persuaded to sit down again, and fill his glass, and +Aaron had been summoned by his sister to come and listen, there were no +bounds to the interest with which the surveyor’s tales of sorrow and +crime were listened to. He set out with declaring that there was +scarcely a possibility of a trader’s escaping persecution, loss, or even +ruin, if the excise officer who was over him happened to be his enemy. +He unfolded such scenes of strife, fraud, hardship, and bitter woe, as +terrified the tender-spirited women, and made even Aaron look grave at +the thought of committing himself to be acted upon by such a system. He +trembled at tales of masters being betrayed by faithless servants; of +false oaths taken by men who appeared weekly at church in a frame of +decent piety; of fathers selling their children’s beds from under them +to pay arbitrary penalties innocently incurred; of a widowed mother +following her only son to prison, eagerly explaining to all who beheld +his shame, that it was not for any “real fault,” but for a factitious +offence,—a boast alas! never repeated; for it is they who are imprisoned +for factitious crimes who come out broken-hearted and reckless, apt to +become, first smugglers, and then felons, like the youth whose tale +Durell was telling. The more he told, the more he had to tell,—the more +impassioned became his speech, and the more eager his recourse to his +glass. Brennan had not yet moved from his attitude of fixed attention, +and even Jack was still frowning and gazing in his father’s face, when +Le Brocq perceived that his guest was no longer in a state to be +listened to as one who knew what he was about. Perhaps he was overcome +as much by intense feeling as by what he had taken; but he slid from his +tone of solemn and reasonable denunciation to senseless invective, to +ridicule, to mirth, to nonsense, till his friends could bear the +humbling scene no longer. Anna hastened, in an agony of fear and shame, +to tell Mrs. Durell that Aaron and his father were bringing her husband +home. It was the only thing that could be done with him; for he had +taken some imaginary offence, and would not remain in their house for a +moment longer, and was too riotous to be kept on any other part of the +premises. + +“I know what you are come for,” said Mrs. Durell mournfully to Anna. “It +is not the first time by many, since he was made an officer. If he +should be cut off in his drink, I shall always say his office was +answerable for it.” + +Anna could not leave the unhappy wife when Durell was lying in the next +room, breathing hard, and angrily muttering in his drunken sleep. + +“You must not be too hard upon him to-morrow,” said she, thinking that +she saw signs of wrath in the burning tears which could not be +repressed. “You have reason to know the tenderness of his heart; and it +is my belief that it is that tenderness that betrays him.” + +“To be sure it is. Every day of his life he crosses somebody that he +wishes well to, and feels that he can do nothing for others that he sees +oppressed, and that as often as he shows mercy, he is betraying his +trust. Hard upon him! When he begins to make light of God’s providence, +and to slight the sorrows that he sees, I will be hard upon my husband.” + +“You deserve to be the wife and the comforter of such a man.” + +“Thank you for saying so while he is lying there!” exclaimed the wife, +looking up through her tears. “You and I know that he is more fit to +hold some friendly rule over the people than to dog them as an enemy. +Some would laugh at such a thought, and say he cannot rule himself. But, +depend upon it, if it were not for the misrule that is every day before +his eyes, he would govern himself like the most moderate of them all; +and then he would never be so wretched in his shame as he will be +to-morrow.” + +“Do you think Mr. Durell will be better to-morrow, so as to take me +where he promised?” asked Brennan, who had silently followed into the +room, and was now watching the rain-drops chasing one another down the +window-panes. + +Mrs. Durell shook her head, and the boy’s heart sank at the sight. He +was told that he might sleep here to-night, to take the chance. It was +not very likely that Stephen would come back to-night, having been +abroad since he slipped out by himself in the morning. Anna did not now +ask any question about Stephen, fearing that it might seem like +reminding Mrs. Durell of her husband’s roughness on that subject when +she was last within his doors. + +“Will you please to come here, ma’am?” said Brennan, beckoning her to +the window. + +She saw Studley standing under a gateway, as if for shelter, but +laughing, and pointing very significantly at Durell’s house. Brennan +whispered that Studley had met master and Mr. Aaron when they were +trying to make Mr. Durell walk straight; and that he had followed them +all the rest of the way, talking about fair traders’ luck in choosing +their time for making surveyors drunk. + + + + + CHAPTER VII. + + HARDER LESSONS IN LOYALTY. + + +While Durell, as much ashamed of himself the next morning, as his wife +had foretold, made an exertion to perform his promise to Brennan, +notwithstanding a desperate head-ache, Anna was making experiments with +the new tea her brother had helped her to manufacture. It was so good as +to make her wonder why all but the wealthier classes in England did not +mix a larger or smaller proportion of those leaves with the genuine tea. +She resolved to try a variety of herbs for the same purpose; and hoped +that when she had satisfied herself that she had obtained the best +article in her power, she might make a profitable little business of her +manufacture. Perhaps the reason why she did not hear of others doing so +was that few had the advantage of a kiln in which to dry the material +quickly, equally, and in large quantities. Meantime, there seemed to be +customers ready before she asked for them. A woman, whom somebody +pronounced to be Mrs. Studley, came to inquire, and carried away a +pound, which she insisted upon paying for before she tasted it. The +example once set, several of the people on the premises, or their wives, +made similar purchases in the course of the next few days. + +Aaron meanwhile recovered from the temporary alarm about his new +business connection into which Durell’s disclosures had thrown him. He +trusted that the perils of glass-makers had been exaggerated in the +heated fancy of the surveyor; and would not believe Anna when she +averred that Durell was perfectly sober when he told of the extent to +which glass-masters are dependent on their servants. He had made a clear +distinction between the present and the former times of the manufacture; +showing how the present are an improvement upon the former, though +restrictions and hardships enough remain to account for the manufacture +being stationary while all circumstances but the interference of the +excise are favourable to its unlimited extension. Durell had told a +story of a respectable glass-manufacturer who had suffered cruelly, some +years ago, from having accidentally affronted one of his men. The man +put material into several of his master’s furnaces, and then went and +laid an information against the proprietor for charging his furnaces +without notice. The consequence was, that George the Third, by the Grace +of King, &c., greeted poor Mr. Robinson, and “commanded and strictly +enjoined” him (all excuses apart) to appear before the Barons of the +King’s Exchequer, at Westminster, to answer his Majesty concerning +certain articles then and there, on the king’s behalf, to be objected +against Mr. Robinson. These articles of accusation were thirty-one! No +wonder the king wished to know what Mr. Robinson had to say. There was, +besides charging the furnaces without notice, a long list of other +offences, (all, however, committed by the workman without his master’s +knowledge,)—putting in metal after gauge, unstopping a pot without +notice, taking down the stopper without notice, filling five pots each +day for fifty days without notice, omission of entering five hundred +makings, and so on. Who can wonder that the father of his subjects was +grieved at such a want of filial confidence? The king, however, had less +reason to be grieved than Mr. Robinson; for the penalties on the +thirty-one offences amounted to 138,700_l._ His Majesty, through his +Barons, had compassion; or rather, perhaps, it might be evident to them +that to throw a man into jail for the rest of his days, after stripping +him of all that he had, for such a crime as his servant beginning to +make glass without his knowledge, might be going too far for even +excise-ridden England. They made him answerable for one only of the +accusations, and let him off for 50_l._—liable, however, to a repetition +of the same misfortune, unless he chose to stand day and night beside +his furnaces, to see that none of his people violated the law touching +glass. Matters have mended since that day. Absurdity and hardship do not +now reach such an extreme: but the principle remains. The tyranny of +interference still subsists. The morality of glass-making is still an +arbitrary morality,—complicated and annoying in its practice, and +mercilessly punished in its infraction. There was still enough of peril +and disgust to make Anna wish that her brother would think again before +he entered upon glass-making. She prevailed no further than to induce +him to bespeak a short trial of the business before committing himself +irrevocably as a partner. She heard so much more of the ingenuity and +taste of the manufacturer he was about to join, than of his experience +in business, that she was in perpetual fear that the firm would not long +be able to escape the clutches of some of the revenue laws, which seemed +to be lying in ambush everywhere to entrap the unwary. Her father, too, +was for ever prophesying that the wilful youth would fall into some +scrape, and get into jail, sooner or later. + +Mrs. Durell observed her husband to be particularly gloomy one evening, +when he desired to have his supper earlier than usual. He sat looking at +the wall, as he always did when his mind was full of something painful. +He seemed relieved when Stephen left off singing in the next room, +though he would not have taken such a liberty with a dependent guest as +to interfere with his singing when he was in the mood. When the +spirit-bottle was put down near him, he pushed it away. This was good as +far as it went. He was not going to drink away his cares, whatever they +might be.——A knock at the door.— + +“Let him in. It is the constable,” said Durell. + +“O, then, I know. You are going to watch,” said Mrs. Durell, being aware +that entering premises by night could be done only in the presence of a +constable. “I am afraid, love, you are going to distress somebody that +you wish no ill to.” + +“I wish ill to nobody but that cursed race of informers that is as much +cherished in this country as if we had a Nero over us.” + +“Only about the taxes, love, surely.” + +“Only about the taxes! Well, what would you have, when almost everything +that is bought and sold is taxed?—Sit down, Simpson. Have you supped? We +may be detained some time.” + +The wife probably still showed anxiety; for he said, while buttoning up +his coat, + +“You have no acquaintance among the soap-boilers, my dear, that I know +of.” + +“Oh, is it soap-boiling that you are going to watch?” + +He nodded, kissed her, bade her not sit up for him, and left her +relieved. + +It was true that the first errand was to a soap-boiler’s,—a man who kept +a chandler’s shop, and professed to do nothing else, but who had long +continued to carry on an illicit trade in soap. His candles bore the +blame of the scent with which his near neighbours were sometimes +incommoded; and his being possessed of two handy daughters saved the +necessity of his having servants who might betray him, protected by that +odious clause of the Act which provides that participators in the +offence shall be rewarded instead of punished, if they will inform +against their masters or companions. This man found that he could make, +very cheap, a particularly good soap, as long as he could evade the +excise; and he had, of course, no lack of customers. In his shop, he +sold none but dear, duty-paid soap; but nobody knew but himself how many +packages went into the country from the back of his premises. The +temptation was enough to overpower any man who had his opportunities. +His privacy afforded him the means of trying experiments to improve the +article,—too expensive a practice for makers who cannot return the +material to the coppers, in case of failure, without the sacrifice of +the whole duty upon the portion so returned. Relieved from the duty, he +could use better and more expensive materials than the regular +manufacturer can employ. Instead of barilla, or the still inferior +article, kelp, he could use common salt, which requires much less labour +in its application to use, and, from its smaller bulk, might be smuggled +into his premises and kept there with greater safety. Besides this, he +liked to be able to take his own time about the production of the +article, and to use such vessels as might be best fitted for his +purposes, instead of having an exciseman standing over him to see that +his soap was ready by a certain time, whether it was properly made or +not; and that his utensils were of the shape and size required by law; +whether or not the having them of that shape and size caused waste of +the material. The mere circumstance of being able to discharge the +alkaline lye from the copper by a cock inserted near the bottom, instead +of by pump and hand, as ordered by law, was of no little consequence, +regarding as it did an operation which was perpetually occurring. This +chandler had, with an easy conscience, made a pretty little competence +by his illicit manufacture; but his day of prosperity was over. Some +keen nose or eyes had made the discovery, and the consequence was that +the constable visited his premises by midnight. + +How the girls started at the first gentle tap at the door! How relieved +were they when, having called from the window, they were told it was +only a neighbour wanting to light his lamp! How dismayed again, when +four men rushed in, the moment the door was opened, and made their way +direct to the place where the sinner was pouring off his curdling soap +into the troughs! There was nothing to be said,—no license to produce,— +no tokens of having paid duty. The whole apparatus and product must be +seized, and the man taken into custody, and the daughters left to +comfort themselves, and explain the matter to the world in the best way +they could. They dreaded the loss of money far more than the loss of +character, which could hardly be great in a country where the population +professes (judging by the duty) to use no more than 6½lbs. a head per +annum; while it is well known that half a pound a week each is the +lowest quantity actually consumed. In a country where three-quarters of +the soap used is not duty-paid, there can be no very deep or extensive +horror of the sin of illicit manufacture. It is far more likely that the +ignorant poor should be thankful to him who, in their inability to make +soap at home, enabled them to buy for 1½_d._ what the law would prevent +their having for less than 6_d._ Even some rich might be found who would +pronounce it a monstrous thing that, while the cost of making soap is +only 12_s._ per cwt., the duty should be 28_s._, and the expense of +excise interference 16_s._ more; but the rich are not concerned like the +poor in this matter. Not only is cleanliness,—and so far health,—less +difficult, less a matter of question to them, but they pay a much +smaller proportion of the duty than the poor. The duty amounts to +two-thirds of the price of the soap which the poor man buys, while it +forms only an inconsiderable portion of the cost of the refined and +scented soaps of the luxurious. While these things are so, who can +wonder at the reliance of the illicit trader on the support and good +will of society, and his expectation of being blamed for nothing worse +than imprudence in carrying on his work in a place liable to detection? + +When the daughters had watched their father down the street, after +helping to cleanse him from the tokens of his late toil, and had gone +crying up to bed, knowing that a guard was left on their premises, +Durell and the constable proceeded on another errand, much more painful. + +Durell had received a hint from his superiors that all was not right on +the premises of the glass-bottle maker, with whom Aaron was becoming +connected. It was his belief that Studley had been the informer, both +from the date of the occurrence, and from Studley’s knowledge of the +concern. Whether it was his design to implicate Aaron, could not be +known yet; but, if he really believed Le Brocq to be a rich, close, old +fellow, it seemed very probable that he might adopt this means of +squeezing a little money out of him; or, possibly, he might nourish +revenge against more than one of the family because Le Brocq had refused +to be his security for the office for which he was still waiting in +uncertainty. However these things might be, Studley was with the men who +stealthily let themselves in at a side door, during the twilight, and +hid themselves behind some planks which happened to be set on end +against the wall. He was with them when they skulked about, after the +workmen were gone, peeping into the closets where the stock was placed, +and whispering as often as they met with anything which could possibly +be construed into a token of fraud. He was the one who called them +hastily back to their hiding-place when steps were at length heard +approaching. He watched and followed the proprietor when he hastily +passed through, with a flaring candle in his hand, as if about to light +himself to some dark place. It was Studley who beckoned the men to +pursue, and burst into the portion of the premises which had been so +contrived as hitherto to elude the notice of the excise. There they +found the proprietors, Aaron, and a trusty servant of the establishment, +all at work about a small furnace. + +Studley stood afar off, and was left to his own reflections, when the +door was shut. Durell and Simpson presently afterwards arrived. + +“Has this apartment been duly entered?” inquired Durell of the +offenders. Nobody answered. + +“Has this furnace paid duty?”—No answer. + +At length, the elder partner began to explain. + +“The fact is, we think we have devised an improvement in our +manufacture; and nobody knows better than you, Mr. Durell, that it is +impossible to keep any secret to ourselves in our business, while the +same excisemen who watch us, see half a dozen other establishments of +the same kind in a day. There is really no possibility of improvement +but in doing what is constantly done,—working a little in private before +we make known our discoveries to the excise.” + +“The expense, too, of wasting material, which must pay duty whether we +obtain the desired product or not, is an insurmountable obstacle to +improvement,” observed the other partner. “You will not deal harshly +with us, sir. If you do, we shall suffer for the patriotic attempt to +advance our manufacture.” + +“I am certain,” declared the first, “that government will gain more by +allowing us to complete our experiment, than by fining us to our last +shilling.” + +With all this Durell had nothing to do. His office was plain. His +accustomed duty lay before him,—seizure of the goods and custody of the +offenders. He was grieved that his friend Aaron could not escape, though +he was not one of the partners. Studley was again at hand to insist that +Aaron was liable to fine or imprisonment for being found working on an +exciseable product in unentered premises. The informer (for so he was) +was very unwilling that Aaron should be permitted to return to his home +for the night. He hoped to have seen him marched through the streets to +some place of confinement. But Aaron’s peril was not such as could +induce him to abscond; and he was dropped at his father’s door, after +having given his promise to appear when summoned before the court. + +Studley need not have grudged him his home. There was little comfort in +it. Before he had well finished his tale, the next morning, and before +his father had well begun the series of reproaches which must be +expected to follow, a messenger from the Court appeared, summoning, not +only Aaron, but Le Brocq, to answer for drawing his kiln without notice, +and Anna for an illicit adulteration of tea. + +Le Brocq replied only by flinging the summonses under the grate, and by +a deep curse upon Durell. Anna, who had sunk into a chair, exclaimed, + +“O, father, why is he to blame? How has he wronged us?” + +“Never tell me that this is not all his doing;—or, at any rate, that be +might not have prevented it all, if he had pleased. What is his office +for,—what is his power worth,—if his best friends and his countrymen,— +strangers that he ought to protect,—are to be persecuted in this +manner?” + +“I will answer for it, he is more sorry for us than we are for +ourselves: but he must do his duty, father.” + +“I should like to know what way of doing one’s duty would please my +father,” observed Aaron. “Whatever may happen is sure to be somebody’s +fault.” + +“Whose fault was it, pray, that my kiln was drawn without notice?” + +“O, father! Aaron! all this cannot be helped now. Do not let us quarrel +now. We must think what must be done.” + +“We must go to prison,—that is clear,—unless my father can pay the +fines,” said Aaron. + +“If anybody goes to prison, it must be you, Aaron. My first duty is to +your mother, and my next to your sister, who has never been a +disobedient child to me.” + +“Pray, father, don’t,” cried Anna. “Perhaps we may none of us have to go +to prison.” Her voice faltered at the last dreadful word. + +“It is my belief that I can never pay the fines,” replied Le Brocq: “and +if they throw me into jail, I shall find some means of telling the king +that they give him bad advice who encourage him to use such means as his +of getting his taxes. I would willingly have paid him three times as +much as he has yet got from me for leave to follow my business in peace. +There is that fellow Durell skulking about before the window now!—to see +how we take our troubles, I suppose.—Anna, come back! I won’t have you +speak to him. I forbid everybody belonging to me to speak to him.” + +“Your own countryman, father!” + +“What does it matter to me whether he was born in Jersey, or any where +else? He is an exciseman, and that is enough. How in the world to tell +your mother of all this!” + +“Perhaps we shall not be hardly used, when they find that we are +strangers, coming from a place where nothing is known of the excise,” +said Anna, trying to command her voice. “Perhaps the king will be +merciful when he hears all we have to say; and I still think Mr. Durell +is our friend. Perhaps we may not all have to go to prison together; +and, at any rate, I suppose we shall soon know the worst.” + + + + + END OF THE FIRST PART. + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + ILLUSTRATIONS + + OF + + _TAXATION._ + + --------------------- + + + No. IV. + + THE + + JERSEYMEN PARTING. + + =A Tale.= + + BY + + HARRIET MARTINEAU. + + + --------------------- + + + + + LONDON: + CHARLES FOX, 67, PATERNOSTER-ROW. + + --- + + 834. + + + + + LONDON: + PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES, + Duke-street, Lambeth. + + + + + THE + + JERSEYMEN PARTING. + + =A Tale.= + + BY + + HARRIET MARTINEAU. + + + + + --------------------- + + + + + LONDON: + CHARLES FOX, 67, PATERNOSTER-ROW. + + --- + + 834. + + CONTENTS. + + CHAP. PAGE + 1. A Busy Man at Leisure 1 + 2. Knitting and Unravelling 20 + 3. A Mate for Mother Hubbard 44 + 4. Friend or Foe? 51 + 5. The Darkening Hour 79 + 6. The Land of Signals 96 + 7. Welcome to Supper 117 + 8. A Wanderer still 133 + + + + +For some of the materials of this and the preceding No., I am indebted +to Mr. Inglis’s very interesting volumes on the Channel Islands. + +The next No. will conclude my work. + + H. M. + + + + + THE JERSEYMEN PARTING. + + + + + CHAPTER I. + + A BUSY MAN AT LEISURE. + + +There are but too many people in London who look upon a prison very much +as they look upon any other building: but of such people few are from +Jersey, or from any place where, as in Jersey, the inhabitants are +prosperous, and the temptations to crime are therefore few. The family +of Le Brocq had not been accustomed to see a sentence of death lightly +received as implying nothing worse than a gratuitous removal to a +country where, whatever other hardships there may be, there is no +difficulty in procuring food and spirits. They had not been accustomed +to the language of penal justice in England, where “transportation” may +mean nothing more than removal to Woolwich, to sleep in a stationary +vessel at night, and rest upon a broom in the dock-yard during the day, +in the intervals of being watched. They had not been accustomed to see +convicts adjusting their leg chain in the presence of strangers, as if +it had been a boot or a gaiter; nor to hear the merriment of the +disgraced; nor to witness calculations as to the economy of living in a +prison for a while. To have seen an offender after conviction was to +them a rare circumstance; and when such a chance had befallen, there had +been a conflict of feeling between their extreme curiosity to see any +one in circumstances so peculiar and interesting, and their fear of +insulting the fallen. + +Durell, though a Jerseyman, had lost some of this feeling through the +familiarity with jails which was induced by his office. The idea of +depriving a man of his natural liberty, of using force upon him in any +way, was as repugnant to him as it will be to everybody a few ages +hence; but, the outrage being an actual fact, the attendant +circumstances had lost some of their power. If it had not been so, he +would not have pronounced that Aaron might go home for the night of his +arrest, as his peril was not such as could induce him to abscond. He was +wrong. Aaron’s peril for working on unentered premises was of being +taken before two magistrates, and sentenced to three months’ hard labour +in prison. Whether three months, or three years, or three hours of hard +labour, it would have been much the same to Aaron, if within the walls +of a prison. Before daylight he was on the cold, foggy Thames, hastening +he knew not well whither, and cared little, so long as he was out of +reach of the arm of the law. + +His father did not abscond, because he had a wife and daughter; but +never was any man more perplexed how to choose between two dreadful +evils than Le Brocq. Equal to a Jerseyman’s horror of a prison is his +repugnance to pay money. Having at home but little money and an +abundance of all that he really wants, he will make any shifts with his +materials rather than buy. He will first impoverish his live stock +rather than go to market to purchase proper food for them; and then, his +live stock failing, he will impoverish his land rather than pay for +manure. Thus, Le Brocq’s grand inducement to come to England having been +the supposed exemption from paying taxes in money, he could not endure +the idea of laying down a heavy sum as a fine, while any alternative +remained. He persuaded himself, and declared to the court, that he could +not raise the money; and went to prison. This was against Durell’s +judgment, and in the firm persuasion that Aaron would appear in a day or +two, to conduct the business and take care of the women. It seemed to +him so utterly ridiculous to consider Aaron’s accident of working on +unentered premises as a punishable offence, that there could be no +danger of the young man’s being inquired after when he had been found +“not at home” for twenty-four hours. + +He also was wrong. Anna was alone when she drew near the prison to visit +her father, after a few days’ confinement. She had never been out on so +painful an errand. She walked past, two or three times, in hopes that +the disagreeable-looking people about the gate would have gone away and +left a clear path for her: but they stood a long while, leaning against +the wall with folded arms, some chatting and laughing, and others +abusing the powers within for keeping them waiting. Before they had +disappeared, more came; and Anna saw that the time during which she +might obtain admittance would pass away if she waited to go in alone. +Nobody seemed to mind her, after all, and the turnkey was civil enough; +so civil, that she found courage, after a moment’s struggle, to do what +she considered justice to her father, and assure the turnkey, as he +showed her the way, that it was for no crime that her father was there, +but only for a mistake about a tax. The man seemed to think this no +business of his; and indeed there was nothing in his manner to any of +his charge to indicate that such a distinction signified at all. + +It was a great disappointment to Anna to find that she could not see her +father alone. Two persons were in the same apartment with him,—a dingy, +close room, where it must be extremely irksome for three people to pass +the day without employment. Anna saw at a glance how irksome it really +was. Nothing but the extreme of ennui could have placed her father in +the position in which she found him,—trying to play at cards with his +companions. Such cards! such companions! and he, ignorant as he was +known by Anna to be of modern card-playing! He had borne his part in a +single ancient game of cards (though he preferred dominoes) on the gay +nights of Christmas or New Year in his Jersey home, when the punch-bowl +was steaming and cakes were heaped on the hospitable board round which +he had gathered his family and neighbours; but his game and his +card-playing notions were little suited to his present place and +companionship. It was a dismal amusement here, in this cheerless room, +with sordid accompaniments of every kind, and two of the players +impatient at the incompetency of the third. Their voices were none of +the most harmonious when first heard on the opening of the door; and +when it appeared that Anna came to interrupt, Le Brocq’s partner threw +down his cards in a pet. Le Brocq cast away his, exclaiming— + +“My dear, what are you here for?” + +“Only to see you, father. But I am in the way, I’m afraid,”—looking at +the peevish man opposite. + +“Never mind him,” replied her father. “We have time enough and too much +for that sort of thing. Why did not you send Aaron, instead of coming +yourself into such a place? You know I do not like——” + +“I knew you would be vexed with me for coming; but my mother was so +unhappy about nobody seeing you. When Aaron comes home——But, father, we +have not seen him yet.” + +“Not yet! Do you mean that he has never come back at all?” + +“Never.” + +“Nor written? What can the lad mean? Whenever he does come back, he +shall learn——I will teach him what he may expect by playing such +pranks.” + +He saw by Anna’s downcast eyes that she thought such threats, if they +could be overheard, were not the most likely means of bringing her +brother back again. They put her too much in mind of the scolding +mother’s address to her offending child, which she had overheard in the +street,—“Come here, you little wretch, and let me flay you alive.” Le +Brocq added more gently, + +“You are not afraid of any harm having happened? Have you asked +anybody?” + +“Mr. Durell says——” + +“Durell! That you should go and disgrace our family before that man, of +all people! What has Durell to do with us, beyond getting us into +mischief?” + +“My mother asked him, because we thought he knew most about what people +do when they get into trouble with the Excise.” + +“Not he. He thought I should pay the fine rather than come here. That +shows how much he knows. But what does he say?” + +“He does not think Aaron will come back,” said Anna, with a faltering +voice. + +“He has enticed him away somewhere, then. What should make the lad stay +away?” + +“When they run away, they get disgusted with the law, Mr. Durell says, +and set themselves against it. Too many, he says, turn to secret +distilling, or to braving the law in some other way. And that is what we +fear for Aaron.” + +“Nonsense: he is safe enough with Malet by this time, I have no doubt. +He has been ropemaking there this fortnight, depend upon it.” + +“He was not there four days ago, as we learn by a letter from Louise +this morning. We were so glad to see the letter! But there is nothing +about Aaron, except their supposing that he must be managing the +business while——” + +“I don’t think I need read the letter,” observed Le Brocq, pushing it +away from him. He was afraid of the pain of seeing what his daughter +might say about his being in prison. “Your mother is happy for to-day, I +suppose, now she has heard from Louise?” + +“Not very,” answered Anna, with a tear or two. “Father, she is always +crying out for Louise to come. She seems as if she thought everything +would be right if Louise was here. But I am sure I dare not think of it. +It is something to think that one of us is safe; and why should Louise +be more safe than anybody else, if she came? There are other snares yet, +Mr. Durell says; and where no stranger can do anything hardly without +falling into a snare, is not it much better that Louise should stay +away? Is not it, father?” + +“To be sure. It was mistake enough for us to come.” + +“Then, you will let us go away again? May I tell Louise so?” + +“O, yes. Tell her that, as soon as you hear of my being buried, you +shall see if you can raise money enough to get back to Jersey; and that +I charge her——” + +“Buried! father.” + +“Yes. I am very ill, and it is my belief that I shall die here. So your +mother is very unhappy?” + +“Yes: but you don’t mean that you are really going to die? I am sure +something might be done to persuade the king to take some of your +stone-ware, if you have not the money. I am sure they would let you out +in that way. And my mother is so miserable! Every footstep that I am apt +to take for Aaron’s, she thinks must somehow be Louise; and then she +thinks of how proud it would make her to see Louise’s husband setting +all right, and——” + +“Poor child! She taunts you with having no lover here! No wonder you +look for Aaron back! She finds fault with you again for sending away +poor François, who would indeed have been a great help to us now. But no +wonder you look for Aaron back!” + +“It was such a disappointment last night, father! There was a soft tap +at the door, just before we went to bed; and we never doubted its being +Aaron. I told him through the key-hole that I would open the door in a +minute; and when I did, it was Mr. Studley. And now he will have it, +from what I said, that Aaron is with us sometimes; and he would stay——” + +“Your mother would not let him in, to be sure? She would not let the +rascal in?” + +“She could not lawfully prevent his coming in; but she would not allow +him to stay there. I never saw such a spirit in her before. But we heard +him outside for three hours after. If I could have persuaded my mother +to go into the back room, so that he could not have heard her cry, I +should not have minded it so much.” + +“What! has the fellow overheard our lamentation? I thought your mother +had——That should never have happened if I had been at home.” + +“Then I wish you would come home, father. Never mind the loss. Never +mind the ruin, if it must be ruin.” + +Le Brocq answered doggedly, as he had always done before, that he had +not the money. If any body had told him, when he took the business, +that, independently of his scrape with the Excise Court, he should now +be without money, he would not have believed it, after all that had been +held out to him about the quantity of money he should make. It was not +from spending. He had pinched and toiled more than he had ever done in +Jersey; and all to plunge himself deeper. If he had been out of +business, dressing his wife in velvet, and feasting on foreign fruits +and claret, he would have paid less to the state than he had done as an +employer of workmen, denying himself and his family, meantime, anything +beyond the commonest comforts of life. It was the paying several times +over that was enough to ruin any man. The workmen could not pay the +taxes upon everything that they ate, and drank, and wore. Their wages +were raised in proportion; so that their masters paid. No man should +judge of his fortune by his returns till he knew what he had to pay in +wages. O, yes; he charged these wages in the price of his bottles, so +that the bottle consumers paid in their turn: but he, as a consumer of +other things, paid in his turn, in like manner; till, among so many +outgoings, he had no money left. And all for what? To contribute his +share towards the expenses of government, which he might have paid, if +he had been properly asked, at half the cost, and a hundredth part of +the pain and trouble! + +“But you did not like that way of paying when you were in Jersey, +father.” + +“Because I was told there was a better, and was fool enough to believe +it. It is the most shameful hoax, the making me pay as I have paid since +I came here! You need not look so frightened, as if I was talking +treason,” he continued, seeing that Anna was uneasy at his being +overheard complaining of being hoaxed in state matters. “I am saying no +harm of the king; for he loses more than I. If I am hoaxed, he is +double-hoaxed, as I could easily prove.” + +“Could you? Then perhaps,” said Anna, timidly, “perhaps, if you told him +so——” + +“Ay; I could set the case plainly enough before him, if I could see him; +but there’s the difficulty.” + +“I will ask Mr. Durell, and he will ask the Board, I dare say,” +exclaimed Anna. “We could say that you would not detain his majesty very +long,—not more than half an hour, perhaps.” + +“Not so much; but I am afraid that would not do. If you consider how +many hundreds of people are in prison, or otherwise ruined by the +Excise, it seems hardly likely that the king should give half-an-hour to +each.” + +One of the inmates of the apartment, who was keeping himself awake with +playing Patience with the dirty cards, while the other dozed, here put +in his word. + +“If his majesty gave his time to every body that is injured by the +Excise, there would be no time left for any other business; and you are +simple people if you do not know that.” + +“There is another thing,” observed Le Brocq. “If the king was on our +side, there are his ministers to convince. Now, it seems to me that his +majesty might not exactly carry in his head all I might say, to repeat +to them; and it would be as well that he should have it in black and +white.” + +“O, a letter to him!” cried Anna, brightening. “Let me write down to +your speaking, father; now, while I am here; and I can put it into the +post-office as I go home. They say letters are most sure to reach people +when they go through the post-office.” + +Anna laid aside her bonnet, put her hair back from her face, and looked +round for something wherewith to dust the shabby, rickety table. The +card-player picked the pocket of the sleeper of his handkerchief, and +handed it to Anna, who used it without scruple, rather than that the +king should have to open a dirty letter. But where was the paper? If she +went out to buy a sheet, perhaps they would not let her come in again; +and her father had none. The card-player again offered to be their +resource. He proposed to let them have a sheet of paper, and the use of +his ink, pen, and penknife for a shilling. + +“Money again!” exclaimed Le Brocq. “The English go on ruining one +another, even in jail, with asking for money, money, for ever. I shall +pay away no more money, I assure you, sir.” + +“Well, then, money’s worth will do as well. That young lady has brought +something for you in her basket, I believe?” + +“I have, sir. I have brought something for my father, as you say; and +for no one else. When we lived in Jersey, it was a pleasure to make and +bake for those that wanted it, and to give it even before they asked for +it. But what I have brought is for my father’s eating, and not to pay +away for a sheet of paper, when it happens to be his need to write a +letter. Father, I like this place less and less for you. I did not think +there had been a place, even a prison, where people who sit at the same +table would so take advantage of one another’s wants.” + +“Even a prison!” said the man, smiling; “why, ma’am, I hope you don’t +think the worst people are found in prisons? Let me tell you that those +whom you would call the worst have the sense to keep out of prison. If +you had lived in London as long as I have, you would see how a prison +has lost its bad name; as it ought to do, if it is to be judged by the +people it holds.” + +“I should be afraid it would give a bad name to the people it holds, +instead of getting a good one to itself,” observed Anna, sighing. + +“No, no. You Jersey people know nothing about our English prisons. In +your island, a man must be a really bad man, or have done some one very +bad deed, to get himself shut up. But here, what do you see? Almost all +the prisoners are in for debt, or for crimes against property, or for +revenue offences. The first and last are not reckoned crimes in a +country where it is so difficult to a great number to keep clear of +money entanglements and of tax-gatherers; and under the other head come +those who would not have done worse than their neighbours, but for such +want as you do not see in Jersey. In our prisons, you meet more of the +poor and the ignorant than of the guilty; and, this being seen, prisons +are losing their bad name, as I said, among the people. You will hardly +speak ill of them, from this time forward, your father having been in +one, and hundreds more as good as he.” + +Anna saw that there must be something very wrong about all this. It +perplexed all her notions about guilt and punishment. She had till now +looked upon her father as an injured man, and regarded him as an +innocent person, detained by mistake in a horrible place, and among vile +companions; and now to be told that the only mistake was in her notion +of a prison, and that her father was no more than an ordinary inmate, +dismayed her so that she desired to hear no more. She spread out +Louise’s letter, and proposed to write on it in pencil what her father +had to say to the king; and to copy it out fair at home. The card-player +found it to no purpose to reduce his terms. His first overcharge had +deprived him of a customer for his dingy paper and dusty ink. The letter +was as follows:— + + “I, John Le Brocq, have something to say to your majesty which may + prove of equal consequence to us both, and to many more. I am sure + your majesty cannot be aware how much harm is done by the way in which + your majesty’s taxes are collected. I really think that if any one had + set himself to work to devise a way for taking as much as possible + from us people, and giving as little as possible of it to you the + king, and hindering manufactures and trade at the same time, he could + not have hit upon a cleverer scheme than that of the excise system of + taxation. As for myself, I have only to say, that I would rather have + paid twice over as much as your majesty has received of my money, than + have been deluded and cheated as I have been; of which, however, I beg + to add, I believe your majesty entirely innocent. The fault is in the + system, sir; and I believe you did not make it. But here I am in + prison. My son is gone away, we do not know where; and my daughter is + under prosecution, having (as I will say, though she holds the pen) + never had an evil thought of your majesty in her life. All this is + from our having fallen into mistakes about taxes which I am sure we + never made any difficulty about paying. Not having been told what a + large capital I should require for advancing the tax on the + stone-bottles I make, and for paying the high wages my men must have + to buy taxed articles, I should have found it difficult to get on, + even if I had not been fined for breaking laws which I defy any man to + learn in a day; and which, I must say, do not tell much to the credit + of those who made them. And how much of this goes into your majesty’s + pocket, after all? for that is the chief point. I, for one, know of a + crowd of fellows that have to be paid out of the money in question for + spying and meddling about our premises in a way that hinders our work + terribly. One in ten or twenty,—ay, one in fifty of these men would be + enough to collect what we should have to contribute, if we each knew + our own share, and might pay and have done with it. And these men are + not all that profit by the plan. It affords a good excuse for making + people give higher prices than the tax of itself would oblige them to + give. Your majesty may have heard what the tavern-keepers did when a + tax equal to twopence a bottle was laid on port wine? They clapped on + sixpence a bottle directly; something in the same way that we put a + higher price on our stone pots, which are not taxed, to make them more + nearly equal with the bottles which are taxed. This saves us in part + from the spite of the glass-bottle makers, who, I fancy, were the + parties that got our article taxed; but it has the effect of stinting + the use of them. Your glass-bottle duty brings you in a very little + more than 100,000_l._, and that on stone-bottles little more than + 3000_l._ a-year; while, if there were no such duties, there would be + so much traffic in foreign mineral waters, and other liquids that + people cannot get on account of the duty, as would much improve the + affairs of the shipping, and the wealth of your majesty’s subjects, + who would then easily make you welcome to more than the sums named + above, if you could not do without them. Then the army of excisemen + (who can hardly be a sort of persons much to your majesty’s taste) + might be employed in helping instead of hindering others’ business. + Then again, please to think of the injury to thousands of men from + trade being cramped and put out of its natural order. To make soap and + glass and my particular article, there is much coal wanted; and for + paper-making, iron machinery; and for all, houses, and furnaces or + coppers. Now, if the trade in each were not cramped by the dearness of + the article, there would be more work for the woodcutter and the + carpenter, for the miner and coal hewer, for the brickmaker and the + shipmaster, and a great number more. O, your majesty may depend upon + it, however much may be said about the riches and glory of this + kingdom, it might be richer and more glorious, and far happier, if + your people were allowed to pay to the state in a less wasteful and + pernicious way; while you would find your advantage in it before the + year was over. If you should please to consult your ministers about + this, and to order them to let me out, I think I could engage to show + them the difference, as far as my own share is concerned: though the + experiment is by no means a fair one when tried on only one article. + If your majesty thinks of travelling, perhaps you may manage to take + Jersey in your way; and there I think you will own that the advantage + of steady natural prices and a free trade are very evident in the + comfortable condition of the people.” + +“Had not we better stop here?” asked Anna. “I am afraid if we make it +longer he will not read it.” + +Le Brocq was sorry to leave off just when he was about to describe his +own country; but he acknowledged the propriety of doing so. Anna just +slipped in a postscript of her own. + + “Perhaps your majesty will consider the mischief of a man like my + father being shut up and treated like a criminal, in such a place as a + prison, where he can only play cards to pass the day, (and that with + disagreeable people,) instead of being industrious in his family, as + he would wish. Perhaps this may lead you to take pity on my mother, + who, for all her Bible can say, is worn down with grief; and on my + brother, who is a wanderer from fear of a prison; and on me, who am in + the like danger. Next to Him who bindeth and looseth, your majesty is + our only hope,—not only for present pardon, but for altering the laws, + that we may not fall into the like trouble again.——Your obedient + servant, + + ”ANNA LE BROCQ.” + +“How much of that letter do you fancy the king will ever read, if he +gets it?” asked the card-player, smiling. + +“It is hardly long enough to tire him much, if it is nicely copied; and +ours is very good ink,” replied Anna. + +“But I mean, do you think he will find it worth attending to?” + +“They say he used to write frequent letters to his father and mother +when he was young; and so he must know that when people write a letter, +they like to have it attended to.” + +“Then, if I write to you, ma’am, I shall expect an answer.” + +“You can have nothing to say to me which you cannot say now to my face— +an opportunity which we have not with the king,” replied Anna, quietly. +She then turned to her father, and offered to bring him dominoes, which +she thought he would like better than those cards. She also hoped she +could borrow a book or two from the Durells. Permission was given to +try; but she was warned that her request might be refused if it was +really Durell’s doing that the family were persecuted and distressed. +She knew that this was so far from being the case, that Durell himself +was under extreme vexation from an imputation of Studley’s, that he had +allowed himself to be bribed in his office by the Le Brocqs; but there +was no hope of persuading her father yet that Durell was not an enemy. +She succeeded better in another direction. She got leave to consult with +her mother, and see whether the fine could not be raised. Le Brocq +really looked and felt very unwell; and the unlimited prospect of +confinement, dust, disagreeable companionship and dominoes, was far from +cheering. + +The sun now shot its level rays upon an opposite roof which glittered +back into the apartment. + +“This is just the weather and the time for seeing Coutances Cathedral,” +observed the prisoner, as Anna was about to leave the room. She also was +just thinking of Jersey, its wide views and pure atmosphere; but she had +said nothing to tantalize him who was confined in a space of twenty +square feet. + +“You may leave me Louise’s letter, after all,” said he, forgetting what +was written on the back. He was chafed at the circumstance, but would +not read the epistle before witnesses. He would wait till Anna’s next +visit; but, as soon as she was gone, he gave away the supper she had +brought him, and rejected all amusement in his pining for news of his +blossoming orchard, and of the fruitful pastures of his native island. +While he settled within himself that Anna was an unexceptionable +daughter, his mind’s eye was occupied with Louise, hailing her graceful +kine, or pacing on her pack-horse through the deepest of the lanes. When +he looked round him, he wished that it was dark, that he might fancy +himself there. + + + + + CHAPTER II. + + KNITTING AND UNRAVELLING. + + +The pottery business was not brought quite to a stand in consequence of +the master’s absence. The women could not undertake to carry it on as +usual; and there was not money enough coming in to pay the people’s +wages: but Anna was on the spot to read the letters that came; it was +thought a pity that the horse should either be sold or stand idle; and, +what was more, the boy Brennan seemed to have gained ten years in spirit +and wisdom since he had been taken notice of by Durell. One of the +workmen, who had been on the premises a good many years, and who +cordially disliked Studley, was willing to do his best to keep the +concern going, either till Aaron should appear or Le Brocq be released. +The little fellow at the lathe remained, and one furnace was employed, +just to execute the most pressing orders, and preserve something of the +credit and custom of the establishment. Nothing more than executing +orders was attempted; for it was very undesirable to add to the stock. +Anna’s wish was to dispose of enough of this stock to pay her father’s +fine and the law expenses, which together made no small sum: but, +whether from a suspicion respecting the fair dealing of the family, +arising from Le Brocq’s imprisonment, or from the absence of all the +parties who could push the business, no sales could be effected. Durell +put her in the way of advertising in the newspapers; from which nothing +accrued but the expense of the advertisements. Brennan exerted all his +ingenuity to embellish his handy work; but his endeavours brought no new +customers. He was chidden by the man under whom he worked for his +fancies about new patterns. He was grumbled at by his comrade at the +lathe for keeping him after working hours, to finish some fresh device. +He was gravely questioned by his mother about spending a portion of his +hard earnings in buying some new runners which formed a remarkably +pretty ring-pattern for his jars; and, after all, nobody bought a jar or +a flask the more. Hour after hour, Anna sat amidst her stock, growing +nervous over her work in listening for footsteps. Day after day, she +came in to dinner, without any news for her mother, and almost afraid to +meet her inquiring eye. The stock was offered at a low price. If she +could have sold the duty-paid part of it, her father would have been +injured by being compelled to sacrifice his interest upon the advance of +duty he had made for his customers. As it would not sell, he was more +injured still. He could not get back the principal of this advance. It +seemed as if Le Brocq could not escape in any way from being injured by +this excise system. So it was; and so it is with all who in this country +buy any thing, or make any thing, or live in any less primitive manner +than Robinson Crusoe or Little Jack. + +There was another reason for Anna being nervous over her work, besides +listening in vain for customers. The affair of the tea had never come to +an end. From the quantity of business before the court, and from other +circumstances, it had been postponed; and one or two of Anna’s friends +had tried to persuade her that she would hear no more of it. But she was +too anxious to be easily comforted. She knew Studley too well to believe +that he would stop short of injuring the family to the utmost. She found +that she was legally guilty; and she suffered little less than if she +had been morally guilty. Day and night was the idea of approaching +exposure and punishment before her. There were but few people,—not +half-a-dozen of her nearest neighbours,—who would believe in her utter +ignorance of the excise laws; and her character for fair dealing would +be gone. If Aaron had not run away, she almost thought she should. She +could now fancy how people might be driven to destroy themselves. The +old feeling which had embittered her childish disgraces now came back +upon her,—that if she could but get out of this one scrape, she would go +somewhere where she could never get into another. If she forgot her +apprehensions for an hour in her concern for her parents’ troubles, they +came back to plunge her into redoubled misery. It may be doubted whether +many criminals suffer so much in the prospect of their trial and +punishment as did this innocent girl from the consequences of a +factitious transgression. They who prepare the apparatus for such +transgression can little know what demoralization and misery they are +causing, or they would throw up their task. + +She knew Studley best. She was the least surprised, though infinitely +the most dismayed, when the crisis came at last. She heard her mother’s +heavy tread in the shed below, and could trace her progress to the foot +of the stairs by the jingling among the wares. + +“Anna! Anna, child!” exclaimed the old lady, out of breath with her +exertions. “Here is Mr. Studley! you must come down; he won’t leave his +business with me.” After an interval, “Anna, child, do you hear?” + +“Yes, mother.” + +“Then, are you coming?” + +“Yes, mother.” + +“Well, make haste.” + +Studley was there in his capacity of messenger. His errand was not, to +his taste, so good as if he had come with a levy warrant, or a body +warrant;—a summons was but a poor infliction; but, such as it was, he +enjoyed it. + +“When must I go, sir?” + +“To-morrow, at eleven. You must be at the court by eleven precisely, +remember.” + +“And may I take any body with me, sir?” + +“Do you mean as counsel, or merely as a support to your spirits?” + +“I have nothing to defend, sir. I have no other excuse than my not +knowing the law; and I can as well say that myself as get anybody to say +it for me. I only mean that I should not like to be quite alone, if the +law allows me to take any friend with me.” + +“O, if you can persuade any body to appear with you, I have no idea that +the court will make any objection.” + +“Will you please to stop a moment, sir? Is it the same court that my +brother was to have appeared in, or some other?” + +“Bless me, what an idea! You do not take me for a servant of the police +magistrates, I suppose? It was before two police magistrates that your +brother was to have gone; and I summon you before the Excise Court of +Summary Jurisdiction. There is all the difference in the world.” + +It might be so; but to Anna’s ringing ears and bewildered comprehension +they were much alike. Studley applied himself to explain. The police +magistrates were, according to him, far less awful personages, inasmuch +as they tried all sorts of people for all sorts of offences; while the +Commissioners deputed from the Excise Board to sit as judges in the +Court of Summary Jurisdiction concerned themselves in nothing but excise +offences or complaints. They had a vast deal of business to do, and sat +twice a week for nine months in the year. + +“Then I think,” observed Mrs. Le Brocq, “there must be more breaking of +the excise laws than of any other kind of law.” + +“There is a great deal of that sort of thing. Miss Le Brocq will find +herself by no means solitary. The court settled eleven hundred cases +last year, do you know?” + +“Well, if I were the king,” said the mother, “I had rather go without +some of my money than have eleven hundred of my subjects brought into +one court in one year, for not paying me properly, through mistake or +otherwise.” + +When Anna could think, she remembered her former determination to ask +Mrs. Durell to go with her before the court. She lost no time in +proceeding to her house to make the request. + +“Sit still, Stephen,” said she mournfully, when she saw that Stephen was +trying to shift out of sight, as was his wont when any of her family +were known to be near. “Sit still, and put away your meek look before +me. You have nothing to fear from any of us, even if I held proof in +this right hand that you had done what we thought you did. We are ruined +now. We have no heart to defend ourselves, or to try to punish our +enemies.” + +“Pooh, pooh! this is all about the tea. They have been troubling you +about the tea,” said good Mrs. Durell; “and so you can see nothing but +what is dismal this afternoon.” + +“Indeed, Mrs. Durell, it is too true,” replied Anna, struggling with her +tears. “I just came to ask you to go with me to-morrow morning—to be at +the court by eleven o’clock.” + +“I have no objection in the world, my dear, but this. It might not be +thought well for the surveyor’s wife to be with you, perhaps. It might +give occasion for something being said. Is there no other friend who +might do you more service?” + +Anna had no other friend. She could not think of taking her mother into +a place so strange to her, and to see such a sight. + +“Such a sight! Why, what sort of sight? How my husband would laugh at +you, if he were here! One would think you were going to be tried for +some foul crime. You will be surprised to find what a simple, easy thing +it is, after all you have been fancying. O, I will go with you, my dear, +if you can’t find a better person.” + +“I do not think we need mind your being a surveyor’s wife,” said Anna, +“when we consider how the court is made up of people that are connected +together. The people of this court accuse me; and the people of this +court summon me, and bear witness against me; and the people of this +court judge and punish me. I never heard of such a court before; and I +cannot say I think it a just one.” + +“There you are only of the same mind with everybody else, Anna. It is a +kind of court which might better suit some slavish country than Great +Britain. Without finding any fault with the gentlemen who sit in it, one +may venture that much. The gentlemen understand their business very +well, people say; and there is great convenience, in so complicated a +system, in our having a place where excise matters may be settled +speedily and cheaply, in comparison with what they might be under some +other plan: but all this does not mend the principle of the court; +through which the court might, if it chose, ruin half the traders in +London. It is too great a privilege for any set of men to have,—that of +meddling with thousands of traders in the heart of the empire, and +taking the accusing and judging and punishing all into their own hands. +There now! there’s a sigh! as if they were conspiring against you. If +you will believe me, it will be over in a few minutes; and everybody +will forget all about you the moment you have turned your back, and a +new case is called on.” + +“No; not Mr. Studley.” + +“O, yes: Mr. Studley too; and, what is more, you yourself. You will have +forgotten what took you there by the time you come away again. At least, +I never went there without seeing or hearing something that took me out +of myself for the whole day after.” + +There was not much comfort in this; and Anna found she must wait till +the next day to know fully what it meant. Mrs. Durell’s next piece of +advice undid all the little good she had done by making light of the +occasion. She thought the intended visit to the prison had better be +deferred till to-morrow afternoon, or the day after; as Le Brocq would +perhaps lose his night’s rest in thinking about what was to happen in +the court. This proved to Anna that she was not the only one who saw +something serious in the affair. + +How should she dress? If she wore her best, it might be taken for +defiance. If her everyday dress, (now shabby,) it might look like +wishing to attract compassion. Mrs. Durell assured her that there would +scarcely be time for any one to note her dress; but she did the kindest +thing in inducing Anna to look altogether Jersey-like, so that her true +account of herself and her error might be corroborated by her costume. + +“Did not your mother say kindly that she would teach Stephen to knit?” +said Mrs. Durell. + +“Ay, who should forget old quarrels, if not such good people as you? And +think of the benefit to Stephen to have such a resource! to have +something to employ his hands upon in rainy weather, when my Jack is +gone to school! It would be a good time to begin this evening, I think, +if you like to take him home with you. Stephen will be glad to do his +part towards the forgiving and forgetting, I have no doubt.” + +Anna saw at once what a happy thought this was. Her mother liked nothing +so well as teaching people to knit; and if a blind person, so much the +better;—it took twice as long. It would help off this heavy evening, and +save Anna from the _tête-à-tête_ with her mother which she dreaded +nearly as much as what was to follow. Stephen seemed on the eve of a +yawn at the proposal; but he knew his own interest too well not to seize +this opportunity of placing himself on good terms with the Le Brocq +family; and he consented to accompany Anna home. + +He made himself particularly agreeable, and fancied that he might have +been more so if they would but have invited him to sing: but he did not +choose to offer it, remembering where he had once volunteered a similar +service before. As he could not sing, he told some of his adventures, by +bits and snatches, in the intervals of letting down stitches and waiting +to have them taken up again. The reserve of the old lady melted away +under the glow of conscious benevolence, while imparting her own +favourite accomplishment to another; and Anna relented as she saw her +mother cheered; and the faster in proportion as she became so herself. + +“Nothing is so strange to me,” she said, after a pause, when the evening +was far advanced, “(and I cannot help thinking that it is a thing too +strange to last,) how people shut their minds up,—how much they hide +from one another, when they are brought as close together as face to +face in water.” + +“Ay, mistress, there you have Scripture for its not being so for ever.” + +“And other signs, too, besides that Scripture saying. But, for an +instance of what I mean, Mr. Stephen, here are you sitting between my +mother and me; and for want of a window in your breast, we know no more +of what we want to know, and of what you could tell us in two minutes, +than if you were at one end of the world and we at the other.” + +“I thought of that,” replied Stephen, “when I saw John Baker standing to +take his trial for murder, when he had been beside me, and both of us +like brothers, for a month. There, thought I, stands the man, with the +secret in him: and when he was questioning and cross-questioning one and +another, it seemed a ridiculous beating about the bush, just for want of +a window in his own breast, as you say. But I wonder what makes you +think it will ever be otherwise. If men were all made alike, I grant you +there would be a chance of all being known; for they are the fewest, I +fancy, who can never be melted into telling everything. I am sure when +an old comrade gets me beside him under a sunny hedge, or when Mr. +Durell and I are over our spirit and water, there is nothing that in +some moods I can keep to myself.” + +Anna inwardly wished that it might be so when he was sitting between two +knitters, sociably learning their art. + +“But,” continued Stephen, “there are, and always will be, men whose +taste is for secrecy. There will always be men who will no more make a +clean or an open breast than they would pull their hearts out.” + +“They will be read, like others, for all that,” Anna said. “The longer +men live together, and the more their eyes are turned upon each other, +the more they learn to gather from signs. See how much doctors learn +from marks which signify nothing to us, and the deaf from countenances, +and the blind from tones of voice, and then tell me whether, if we were +as observant as all these together, we might not read more of a man’s +mind than we now think of. And if we also study the make of the mind as +some have learned to do, we may get to know of things unseen, something +in the way of the wise men who can tell us, years before, when a comet +is coming,——” + +“Or of the common man who knew the exact spot where a lion was, miles +off, before it could be either seen or heard.” + +“How was that?” asked Mrs. Le Brocq, with some scepticism in her tone. + +“He saw a large bird of prey in the air, so far off that it seemed but a +speck. It hovered, which showed that there was a prey beneath; and it +did not drop, which showed that something was beside the prey which +prevented the bird from seizing it; and, from the nature of the country +and of the bird, that something could be nothing but a lion; and a lion +it was. It was by putting things together that the man knew this; and it +is by putting things together that men will be known, if ever they are +known.” + +“I am sure it is much to be wished that they should be,” sighed Anna. + +“Well, now, I don’t agree with you there. I think half the fun in life +lies in men puzzling one another, and watching one another in their +puzzle.” + +“It has been the amusement of your life, we have some reason to think: +but we have only too much cause to wish that hearts could be laid open +to man as they are to God, The greatest support that we have in God is +in being sure that he knows all; and if men could read us as thoroughly, +and be sure that they read aright, there would be an end of our +troubles. My father would be seen to have meant no mistake, and I to +have never had such a thought as cheating the king; and we should know +where Aaron is, and exactly why he went away. It seems to me that men +make almost every sin and trouble they suffer under; and that it is done +by making mysteries and laying snares for one another.” + +Mrs. Le Brocq had hitherto looked rather less solemn than had been her +wont since the afflictions of the family began: but now her tears were +falling on her knitting needles, and Stephen overheard a little sob. He +entreated her not to vex herself, and to hope that all was well with +Aaron, and so forth. But this is not the kind of consolation which will +satisfy any mother’s heart; and Mrs. Le Brocq said so. + +“If you would comfort me,” said she, “you must tell me where he is. How +should I believe that all is well with him when there is the sea where +he may be drowned, and the workhouse where he may find his way as a +beggar, and plenty of prisons where he may be shut up, and snares spread +every where for him to fall into? I never hear of any evil happening but +I think that he may be in it; and when I pray——” + +“O, mother, hush! Don’t speak so, mother.” + +“I say, child,—it may be a sin, but I can’t help it,—I have often lately +in my prayers fixed a time when I will despair of God’s mercy if my boy +does not come or send: and always as the time passes away, I do the same +thing again; and cannot set my mind either to give him up, or to hope +with any certainty to see him more. You are a good child to me, Anna; +and all that you say about trusting is very right; and I dare say it +comforts you, though I have overheard you crying in the night oftener +than you know of. But for myself I say, if you wish to comfort me, tell +me where Aaron is.” + +“Well, then, I will tell you where he is,” cried Stephen, throwing away +his handywork. “I don’t know what I may get for it; but I can no more +help it than I could help telling anything to poor John Baker, when we +sat under a hedge, as I said, and he kept all his own secrets while I +was telling him all mine.” + +Neither Anna nor her mother spoke a word. It had never occurred to them +that Stephen could know more of their nearest concerns than they did +themselves. + +“I will tell you where he is,” continued Stephen, “and you may trust me +for knowing; for it was I that helped him off, and put him in the way of +a flourishing business. But you must promise me to tell nobody what I +say. That is, I suppose you must tell Le Brocq, but not till he has +engaged to let it go no farther.” + +The promise was readily made, and then Stephen told that, so far from +its being reasonable to expect Aaron when any one approached the house, +Aaron was far off on the sea. He was plying in a smuggling vessel +between one of the Channel islets and the south coast of England. + +“Aaron a smuggler!” + +“Yes; and with all his heart. He had very little reason to like the law, +while he was within its bound; and was not at all sorry to get out of +its bound. Would it not be just the same with your father, now, if he +could get away? Has he any reason to like the law? and do you think even +he, though he is an orderly man enough, would hold it any great crime +for a persecuted man to go beyond its reach?” + +“I call it coming within the reach of the law, not going beyond it,” +said Anna, mournfully. “The way to get out of reach of its oppression is +to go back to Jersey; and that is what I trust my father will do. O, why +did not Aaron do that?” + +“He was afraid of being laid hold of either by the law or by your +father,—and Aaron has no taste for tyranny, either way. The open sea, +with a lawless calling, is much more to his mind. While he was here, he +had no more chance for freedom than a midge in a field of gossamer; and +now, he is like a roving sea-bird, lighting on a rock to rest when he +likes, and then away again over the waters.” + +“You will not deceive us any more, Stephen, by your way of hiding ugly +things with fine words. The plain truth, dress it up as you will, is, +that Aaron is living by braving the law. You know that he cannot show +himself fearlessly among men: you know that he comes abroad at night +because his works will not bear the daylight. You must have taken +advantage of him in his distress, or he could never have thought of such +a step. But I think no distress that I could ever fall into would make +me follow your bidding, seeing how you have already deceived us to our +ruin. O, why did not Aaron go back to Jersey?” + +“I wish, mistress, you would be a little less hard upon me. I did the +best I could think of for your brother. When he came to Mr. Durell’s to +learn what was likely to befall him, I thought it only kind to tell him, +as soon as Durell had turned his back, that there were means at hand for +getting away, and leaving the tread-mill far behind him.” + +“So far we are obliged to you, I am sure,” observed Mrs. Le Brocq. “I +should not have liked to see my boy on the tread-wheel.” + +“So I knew, and I asked no reward beyond what it cost him nothing to +give. I went with him myself, and introduced him on board a boat that +you may have chanced to see off Gorey in the season. It is all very well +to go and get oysters; but there is another more profitable sort of +business to be done in those seas,—and will be, as long as the Customs +duties of this country remain as they are. So, Aaron was off with a fair +wind and tide; and I suppose he may now be cooling himself in a +sea-cave, without leave of the law, since the law took him off from +broiling himself beside a glass furnace.” + +“Does Mr. Durell know where he is?” + +“He never asked me; and, depend upon it, he will never ask you.” + +“And what was the reward you desired of Aaron that it cost him nothing +to give?” + +“Only just a promise that I should hear nothing more of certain caps and +handkerchiefs that you lost, once upon a time. You will have a letter +from Aaron, (when he can send it so that you shall not know whether it +comes from east or west,) to ask you, for his sake, never to mention +that matter more.” + +“So you did take them! I do believe you are a smuggler yourself,” +declared Anna. There was a tremor in her voice which showed Stephen that +she was more or less alarmed at sitting next a smuggler and a thief. + +“Don’t be thinking of shifting your chair, Miss Anna. My pranking days +are past. A cursed bitter wind, one cold night, inflamed my eyes, and +brought me to the pass of being scarcely able to tell bright moonlight +from pitch darkness; and then I could be of little use on the sea. I +tried what I could do for our company on land, by discharging an errand +or two for them, one of which was at your farm. But the hue and cry you +made after me through all the island spoiled my game; and there was +nothing for it but giving up and coming here, that I might not hurt +those I could not help. So my pranking days are over.” + +“Then you are only half blind? Where is our linen? How did you get +away?” + +“I shall tell you, because you cannot recover the goods, in the first +place: in the next, your credit is none of the best, just now, and would +not overbalance my denial in any court; and lastly, I consider that I +have paid off my debt in saving your brother. Come, come: no sighing +over my plain-speaking, or I shall leave off speaking plain. I am full +three quarters blind, and so only one quarter a knave. I can see the +candle on the table; but I should not know you from your mother, except +by the walk and the voice. I can see a field from an orchard, but I +could not have found my way if your brother had not first guided me. As +for your linen, I did not steal it to make money by. It is bleaching on +certain rocks beside the sea, or worn by some of the sun-burnt damsels +that Aaron knows by this time,—who can keep watch as well as any +coast-guard, or broil a fish handily when there is notice that the boat +is creeping home through the land-shadow. They wanted a supply of such +things; and I promised to bring some ready-made: but I went to the wrong +place. In England, one may carry off a crammed washing basket, and +nobody thinks it much of a wonder; but in Jersey, one might almost as +well steal the island charter, to judge by the hue and cry that was made +after me. I never saw such simple people.” + +“That comes of not making crimes of things that are innocent in +themselves,” said Anna, proud of her native island. “If it was treated +as a crime to make soap or burn glass in one way rather than another, +people would soon grow careless of so common a thing as crime, and make +much less difficulty about breaking the law whenever it suited them. +They are the most moral people who know of no crimes but those which God +has called such, and who, while they pray ‘lead us not into temptation,’ +take care to add none to the temptations that God thinks enough for +their strength.” + +“But how did you get away?” asked Mrs. Le Brocq. “I was awake a long +while that morning, and I never heard you stir.” + +“That was because I was gone, I suppose. Knowing that it would take me +some time to get down to the shore, I only waited till you all seemed +sound asleep. The finding the latch of the door was a long job, wishing +as I did to make no noise. When it was done, I expected to have come +back again, for I made a great stumble on the threshold.” + +“I wish you had done it as you came in,” observed Mrs. Le Brocq. “It +would have been a token to us to look more closely after you.” + +“If you had dogs,” continued Stephen, “they were so obliging as to be +very quiet. There was only one creature that made a great noise,—and +that I had no objection to,—an owl in the ivy about your chimney. I +could not for the life of me help standing to shriek like an owl, to +keep it up. I have often thought since how I stayed leaning over the +palings, hooting, when my proper business was to slink away. Well, when +I had got down to the brook-side, it took me some time to gather the +linen together.” + +“We have often wondered how you managed to carry it all away.” + +“It was a heavy load for some way; but I left the half of it on the +ridge, when I was once clear of your place,—left it for my comrades to +fetch when I had got down to the boat, and told them where to go for it. +Luckily for me, you had been washing a large bag——” + +“My wool-bag!” exclaimed the old lady, piteously. + +“Your wool-bag, was it? I am glad it had wanted washing that time. I +crammed it full of the smaller things, and the rest made a great bundle +tied with a coil of Aaron’s cord which I found in his coat-pocket. You +remember I had his clothes on?” + +This was a fact not likely to be forgotten. + +“I went down with the bag, and left the bundle just on the off-side of +the ridge. The boat was dawdling within hail, all as it should be, +though they had nearly given me up; for I had been so long groping about +that it was nearly time for you early Jersey people to be up and out of +doors. Two of our comrades went up for the bundle, and carried——I dare +say you will not believe what I am going to say now?” + +“Why not?” + +“Because in Jersey you are not up to the smuggling ways which are well +enough understood everywhere on the south coast of England. We expected +that you would do as the people do there;—if your horses were found +tired in the morning, or any convenient thing taken away, look round to +see what was left in exchange, or trust that something would come, and +hold your tongues about the trespass. Supposing you understood all this, +we sent up a choice cask of spirits and a package of tobacco, and some +prettier things for you ladies than any we took away. These were to have +been left for you on the ridge; but we soon saw it would not do.” + +“We should never have guessed,” said Mrs. Le Brocq; “and indeed I do not +well understand it now. But how do you mean that it would not do?” + +“By the fluster you made, our people saw that it would not do,—that you +would have us followed, if we left any sign of who we were, and what +part of the coast we had been upon. It was easy to see that you were not +the folks who could take a hint. There were your fowls fluttering, and +men’s and women’s voices shouting, and Le Brocq thumping with his great +stick, and one of the poor young ladies leaning her head against her cow +to cry.” + +“Did they see Louise do that?” + +“Miss Louise, was it? Yes, they saw it; and very sorry they were when +they found how the thing was taken; but it showed them that it was time +to be off. So they crept round under the rocks till they could stand out +among the boats from Gorey, being pretty sure that they would pass +unquestioned through the Thames and Medway men, who know something of +what must happen on the Channel waters while the Custom-house interferes +between the French and English as it does. Now, Miss Anna, let me have +the pleasure of hearing that you believe my story,—that you perceive +that I am not a common thief, and that you will fulfil your brother’s +wishes in sparing me all future allusion to my Jersey adventure.” + +“I cannot help believing your story, Stephen; and I only wish the King +and his Ministers could hear and believe it; and see how, through their +way of taxing, a man that scorns being a common thief is proud of being +an uncommon one. Yes, Stephen, you are a thief, and you have helped to +make Aaron one. You were a thief towards us, and Aaron is one towards +the Government, getting his living as he does by robbing the State of +some of its dues. God pardon those that made dishonest men of you both! +I had rather see Aaron on the tread-wheel for an offence of mere +heedlessness than out on the free waters on a guilty errand. You have +done him no real good, Stephen. Boast no more of it.” + +“I swear that I have,” said Stephen, with his usual good humour; “and +I can do more: I can make the good extend to you. I know you want to +get rid of some of your stock; Durell told me so. I can put you in the +way; but Durell need not know that. It is a pity that your bottles, +and your pretty stone spirit-casks should stand piled upon one another +here, of no use to anybody, while Aaron and his party are bringing over +liquors——” + +“Now have done, Mr. Stephen. One might think you were a tempting spirit, +sent to try us. You would sink my mother and me next, I suppose?” + +“Not sink, but raise you, my dear;—get your father out of gaol, your +fine paid (for I suppose it will end in your being fined to-morrow)—— +Plague on it! here is Durell,—come for me, I suppose. Very kind of him +to come himself! Always kind, I am sure: but if he had left me another +half hour.——Not a word before him, remember.” + +“I was afraid you would find Stephen a bad scholar, Mrs. Le Brocq,” said +Durell, taking up the knitting from its dangling position over the side +of the table. “Offer to give Stephen a lesson in anything, and it always +ends in his giving you a story instead.” + +“That is what I have been doing to-night, indeed,” replied Stephen. “But +you never saw two people more in need of a story than these ladies. They +are as frightened about this little matter of to-morrow——” + +“My wife sends her love to you, Miss Anna,” said Durell, “and she has +been thinking, ever since you saw her, about going with you to-morrow; +and she has made up her mind that it will be against your interest, that +she, a surveyor’s wife, should appear with you. She adds that if you +still urge it——” + +“By no means,” said Anna, quickly. “I can go alone. If it is God’s will +that I should have no friends, I trust it is His will that I can do +without them.” + +“You will never be without friends while my wife and I live,” replied +Durell, calmly; “but I was going to add, for my own share, that I could +not think of any member of my family appearing in that court as the +friend of any offender. We know perfectly well that you are as innocent +of any intended offence against the Government as my boy Jack; but the +offence is real in law. I owe duty to the Government, and it would +disgrace me in my office, it would be a failure of duty to appear to +countenance any transgression of the law which it is my business to +enforce. One of the penalties of such an office as mine is to have to +speak and act in this way to a friend,—to one whose offence is merely +legal, not moral—but you see——” + +“I see.” + +“Well: you shall not go alone. Brennan’s mother is a very decent good +woman; and she is so obliged to your family for your kindness to her +boy, that she will go with you with all her heart.” + +“Do not say ‘with all her heart.’ Say rather because you asked her,” +said Anna, feeling the humiliation of owing this kind of obligation to a +stranger. + +“Nay. Hear from the boy himself, if you will, whether his mother is not +pleased to be of use to you; and if there is anything, my dear, that we +can do for you without compromising my duty, only send for me. If you +want any more law knowledge, I may be able to help you, knowing how +little is learned and wanted in Jersey; and if you should happen to fall +into further trouble, you may look far and wide for a better comforter +than my wife. Come, Stephen, are you ready?” + +Anna’s heart sank as they closed the door behind them. She and her +mother looked at one another without speaking. They had been beguiled +for a time by Stephen’s strange stories; but, this being over, they now +found that the best thing they could do was to go to bed. + + + + + CHAPTER III. + + A MATE FOR MOTHER HUBBARD. + + +Do criminals feel glad or sorry when they wake and find it broad +morning, two hours before their execution? Are they thankful to have +been beguiled with sound sleep, or had they rather have had broken +slumbers, finding again and again that it is still dark, or only just +dawning yet? To those who love their beds, and dread the coming of the +hour of rising, and nothing worse, there is something pleasant in being +thus repeatedly reminded that it is not time to get up; but how it may +be when a worse evil impends has perhaps never been told. Anna’s +experience (and she felt that her case was very like a going to +execution) could not throw any light upon the matter; for she did not +sleep at all. + +Breakfast was as much out of the question as sleep. She did not pretend +to take any, even to please her mother, for she had something to do +which would occupy her whole time till Mrs. Brennan came for her. During +the night it had occurred to her that there could be no harm in carrying +with her a copy of her father’s letter to the King, lest that which she +had put into the post-office should not have reached its destination. +The employment was good for her. It prevented her being in quite so +disagreeable a state of palpitation and thirst as she might have +suffered if she had been quite at liberty for watching the clock. The +Brennans came at last before they were expected. + +“Your boy with you, Mrs. Brennan! Do you mean him to go too?” + +“He is so very anxious, ma’am, to be of use to you; and it struck him +that you might wish, in the middle of the business, to send for +somebody, or to have some kind of messenger at hand.” + +Anna shook her head. Whom could she send for at her utmost need? + +“I wonder,” said Anna, when she had put on her shawl, and was casting +her last fluttered look around her,—“I wonder whether I should take a +pound or two of that tea with me. The gentlemen may require to see it.” + +“I should be disposed, ma’am,” said Mrs. Brennan, “to leave it to the +informers to show the article that they complain of. It is not your +part, I should think, to be aiding their cause.” + +Anna had opened the door of the cupboard where her packages of +adulterated tea were ranged as neatly as every other article which the +house contained. She now quickly closed it, and seeing that there was no +further pretence for lingering, solemnly kissed her mother and departed. + +As they walked, Mrs. Brennan showed herself to be a partisan of Anna’s. +In this leaning towards the defendant she was only like other people. +Where the King is prosecutor, not paying for his law, the popular +inclination is usually against him; and especially when he sues for his +moneyed rights. This indicates the policy of contracting instead of +multiplying such proceedings to the utmost. + +“I am afraid the judgment will go against you, ma’am,” said the good +woman, “and it is the best kindness to tell you so beforehand. There is +little hope for you against the King, especially when he makes other +people pay his lawyers. A gentleman that I knew was fined 50_l._ and the +costs came to 500_l._ In this court, however, there are often no costs, +and the business is done pretty quickly and cheaply,—which does not, as +I say, make it the less a pity that it should have to be done at all. +You are lucky, too, ma’am, in not having to do with a jury, as juries +were, on excise cases, some time ago. Ma’am, the jury used to have two +guineas and a dinner when they found a verdict for the Crown, and only +one guinea, and no dinner, when they found for the defendant. You may +suppose the accused seldom got his cause.” + +“And yet juries seem generally to be thought good things for the +accused,” observed Anna. + +“Some people consider it a great stretch of power to do without them in +excise cases, ma’am; but, dear me, there would be no end of trials by +jury, if all that are informed against were so tried. The court would +have to be open all day from the first of January to the last of +December, and a thousand people a year would be ruined for law expenses. +Besides, they say that the quick judgments given by these gentlemen, on +the information of their own servants, strike a wholesome terror into +folks, without which the laws would not be observed.” + +Anna could answer for the terror. Whether it was wholesome was another +question. + +How she reproached herself for her terrors about her own fate when she +witnessed some of the cases presented this day in court! She could have +been amused at some, from the apparent frivolity of the charges, if the +consequences had not appeared more grave than the accusations: but there +were others which could be viewed only with intense commiseration. + +What had Dennis Crook done that he was called upon to pay 4_l._ 15_s._ +4½_d._? Dennis Crook was a paper-stainer, and had neglected to pay the +duty of 2_l._ 7_s._ 8¼4_d._, and he was therefore called on for the +double duty in order that the single might be recovered, with costs. +Poor Dennis declared that he had told the collector that he would pay +the duty, and the costs with it, the first day that some money which was +due to him should come in. It was very cruel of the collector to bring +him here, knowing that he had no wish to evade the duty, and that the +bringing him here was enough to ruin his business. It had got abroad +already, and he had lost two customers by it. God forbid that he should +be so inconsiderate to the person who had brought him to this by not +paying him to the day! Dennis could not pay the penalty till this person +yielded him his due,—not a bit the more for being brought here; but that +person should not be exposed by him as he was exposed in this court, to +the destruction of his business. If he should never pay another shilling +of duty to the king, the court might ascribe it to his difficulties +being laid open in this way,—difficulties which might have been got over +easily enough if the court had not stepped in between him and his +customers.—The court did not see what it had to do with all this. The +single duty, with a small increase for costs, was squeezed out of poor +Dennis, who went away, pulling his hat over his eyes, and saying that +this would be the signal for his landlord to turn him out of the little +shop in which he had carried on his business for many years; and God +only knew where he was to establish himself next. + +What could have brought hither that respectable elderly woman, who +looked as if she could never in her life have broken a law or a rule? +She came to save her son from a prison, if it might be within her small +means to do so. On his coming of age, she had given up to him the small +tenement she possessed. She had better have kept it till her death. He +had been seduced into a “speculation,” and had set up a private still. +The still and all the spirits on the premises were seized, and the +mother was now here to pay the penalty of 100_l._ which was just half of +the little portion she had destined for her daughter. She knew that it +was more likely that she should have to maintain John than that he would +ever repay this 100_l._, for his character was gone. She cast down her +eyes while she held out the money, with a trembling hand, and did not +speak to John as they went away, though he looked as if he longed above +everything for a word from her. Mrs. Brennan found that much explanation +was necessary before Anna could believe that all this ruin was caused by +the act of distilling spirits without the leave of the government + +A widow, in shabby mourning, with a babe in her arms, was quietly crying +in a corner. She had sold her furniture by auction, and had neglected to +get a license. She had better have kept her furniture; for the penalty +swallowed up nearly all the proceeds of the sale. Anna thought this the +most cruel levy of a tax she had ever heard of; for this poor woman +would not have sold her furniture if she had not been in want. To be +compelled to pay for permission to do what was in itself a hardship, was +a stranger piece of oppression than Anna had witnessed yet,—much as she +had seen. She followed the widow, to make sure of the facts, and found +that the poor woman had been on the point of setting up a little shop, +and sharing a cheap lodging with a brother: but now that her money was +almost all gone, she could see nothing before her but selling fruit in +the streets; but, in that case, she must look about for some one who +would take care of her baby, while the other two little ones must tramp +the streets with her. If she had but sold her furniture in any other +way! But her brother advised an auction, and had taken upon himself to +be auctioneer; and how could she suspect what would happen? + +The wonder was how those to whom the public money came at last could +enjoy it if they knew of its being wrung in ways like these from the +ignorant, the simple, and the distressed. The old and obvious question +recurred,—why not ask the nation for the money that is wanted, instead +of filching it? Why not settle openly how it is to be paid, and take it +directly, as rent is taken, or as contributions for any other object are +collected? Surely no objections to this simple method of taxation could +long stand when our great nation of buyers and sellers had once found +the comfort of natural and regular prices, of wages not arbitrarily and +uselessly raised,—the luxury of being rid of the oppression of +Custom-houses and Excise courts, and of the plague of a spreading host +of revenue spies. Little could be said of the dignity of the +circumstances out of which the State funds arise by any one who had seen +others of the cases which Anna witnessed, and which really amused her, +and beguiled her of her apprehensions for a time. It seemed ridiculous +that the king should, by his officers, be seriously complaining of being +injured by one man selling pepper without a license, and another +removing wine without a permit, and a third having more brandy in his +cellar than he declared he had, and a fourth having rum under a certain +strength among his stock, and a fifth forgetting to keep an entry-book, +and a sixth tying up his pasteboard in a wrong way, and a seventh having +neglected one night to put down how much black tea he had sold in small +quantities. It did not seem very dignified in any government to concern +itself and worry its subjects about such matters as these. Anna could +have laughed once, when the mention of black tea brought her back to a +consciousness of her own awkward predicament. + +What she had seen had much abated her horror, however. She was able, +when called upon, to say that she found she had committed an illegal +act, but that she was not the least aware, at the time, that she was +doing anything improper, as was shown by her offering some of her thorn +leaves to persons who were passing through the field. She could not +think it very kind of those persons to pass by without giving her +warning of what she was doing. She saw, to be sure, that they looked +grave upon her; but how was she to know why, unless they told her? In +Jersey they would not have treated a stranger so. + +“And pray do they make tea of thorn leaves in Jersey?” asked one of the +gentlemen. + +“Very rarely, because tea is so cheap there that it would not be worth +while; but anybody may do it that likes. I should not have thought of +doing it here but for the dearness of tea; and I never could have +supposed that the custom of the country was first to render tea so dear +as to tempt us to make it for ourselves, and then to punish us for so +making it;—a thing we should never otherwise have thought of.” + +Studley, on whose information, supported by witnesses, the whole +proceeded, smiled maliciously, and said that the young woman showed what +family she belonged to by her enmity to the Excise. It went in the +family; her brother having absconded to escape an excise charge, and her +father being now in prison in consequence of one. This statement made +the expected impression. How could the gentlemen do otherwise than think +ill of such a family of delinquents? Studley followed up the matter by +declaring what trouble the Excise had with the Le Brocqs. There was no +other set of people that he had had to watch so closely; no other +premises that he had been obliged to enter so often. + +“It is very easy to watch people, Mr. Studley,” said Anna, “without +showing that they have done wrong; and entering premises by day and +night, week after week, does not prove that anything amiss is found +there.” + +“It answers another purpose, if I may say so, gentlemen,” interposed +Mrs. Brennan. “If an excise officer has a spite against a family, +nothing is easier than to take away their character by frequent search, +which I believe is what Mr. Studley is trying to do with this family. I +wish, gentlemen, that you would ask Mr. Studley what he has found in any +of his searches from the day that Mr. Aaron went away.” + +“Impossible,” said one of the commissioners. “We have nothing to do with +the character of these people; as you, Studley, ought to have remembered +before you entered upon matters with which we have no concern. The +charge was admitted. That is all we have to do with.” + +Studley was ordered to recover a fine,—a small one, for the gentlemen +saw something of the nature of the case,—and to destroy or see destroyed +the adulterated tea. Anna humbly listened to the unnecessary admonition +not to repeat the offence, and then begged the gentlemen to let her +father out of prison, where his health was suffering materially from the +confinement. This kind of petition must be sent to the Board, +accompanied by a medical certificate of the state of the prisoner’s +health, one of the gentlemen was informing her, when Studley interfered +to allege that Le Brocq was well able to pay the fine,—better able than +a hundred men who had petitioned the Board in vain for their release. + +“If that be the case,” said a commissioner, who had a little attention +to spare from the case which his colleagues had now called on,—“if that +be the case—Is it the case, young woman? Tell me the truth.” + +“If my father’s stock could be sold, he might pay,” Anna declared: “but +nobody comes to buy; and nobody will come now that Mr. Studley has taken +away our good name by following us for evil as he has done.” + +“He must do his duty. I can hear no complaints against him for doing his +duty. If he has given you cause of complaint, you can have redress by +applying in the right quarter.” + +“But, sir, what can I do about the fine? My mother and I are willing to +work night and day to raise the fine, if we knew which way to turn +ourselves: but there seems to be so much danger in employments here that +we are afraid to begin any new ones.” + +“O, any one will tell you the law, if it is that you are afraid of. What +sort of employment were you thinking of?” + +“My having been asked for so much of my own tea made us think of selling +tea and groceries: but I have seen people fined to-day for selling +pepper without leave, and having tobacco in a private room, and +forgetting to set down at night what they sold in the day, and also for +finding that they had more on hand than they had given an account of. I +should be afraid, sir, to sell groceries. But there is another thing +that was partly put into my head, and partly thought of by myself, owing +to our having a great quantity of duty-paid bottles unsold. My mother +and I have always been used to make cider, and some kinds of sweet wine. +There is talk of a great deal of ginger wine being likely to be drunk +this year, for fear of the cholera. We might make it at little risk, as +ginger is so cheap an article, and we have the bottles.” + +“Well: you can but try. You are aware, I suppose, that ginger is not so +cheap here as you can get it in Jersey? Ginger pays duty here.” + +“And sugar is taxed too, and so is your little matter of spirit, ma’am,” +interposed Mrs. Brennan. “You must not go to work, reckoning the cost of +all your materials at what you might get them for before you came here.” + +“She may easily learn the prices of things,” said the condescending +commissioner; “and then she has only to take care to give in her name +and place of abode, and of her rooms and utensils; and to renew her +license (which will cost two guineas) every year; and to give notice +when she intends to draw off her wine; and to be careful not to send it +out in less quantities than a whole cask containing fifteen gallons.” + +Anna looked dismayed, and asked, + +“And should we have anything to do with Mr. Studley in that case, sir?” + +“If his superiors find that he has reason for suspicion, he may enter at +any hour, provided he takes a constable, at night. He may also break +walls and pull up floors, if he believes that anything improper in his +line is concealed there; but you would be careful to avoid dangers of +this kind, and get yourself visited daily, according to law, to obviate +suspicion.” + +“Every day, sir!” + +“Yes; if you make wine. If you only retail it, once in twenty-eight days +is all you are subject to; and the annual license for mere retailing is +only a guinea, the notices and entries being of the same kind required +of makers. If you combine the two——” + +“I cannot, sir. I dare not. Your gentleman would be bringing me up and +fining me once a week, sir.” + +“O, you could not get very deep into any scrape, I assure you; the state +gets only between two and three thousand pounds from all the sweet-wine +makers in the kingdom. There are four who pay less than 1_l._ a year, +and no more than six who pay above 100_l._; and only twenty-three makers +altogether. Even the retailers are under nine hundred in number. It is +an insignificant concern altogether.” + +“To the king, perhaps, sir; but not to me, if I have to pay tax upon +what my wine is made of, and a tax for making it, and a tax upon the +bottles that hold it, and a tax for selling it; and if I am liable to be +watched and tormented by Mr. Studley, or men like him. I think, sir, the +government might really give up such a vexation, if it brings in so +little—so very little.” + +“And employs a good many people like Mr. Studley, at a hundred a year,” +added Mrs. Brennan. “I think, ma’am, you must give up your idea of +making wine.” + +“Yes, indeed,” replied Anna. “Perhaps, sir, as it is for the king’s sake +that I am prevented getting money for my father, as I otherwise might; +and as you are one of those who manage these affairs, you will not +refuse that this letter should go to his majesty. It is from my father, +sir, copied by me, and asking no charity at all, but only consulting +about what is best for both.” + +The commissioner was unwilling to let such a curiosity escape. The +letter was wafered, so that he could not ask to glance his eye over it. +He would fain keep it, but did not like to deceive the poor girl with +false hopes. Anna was pleased to see him hesitate. Studley stopped his +laugh of ridicule. Mrs. Brennan could scarcely refrain from nodding +triumphantly at him. The commissioner turned from them to say a few +words to his colleagues, so that Anna could not see his face. He soon +returned, quietly saying,— + +“I am not sure that I can get this letter into the king’s hands; but you +may leave it with me; and if your father cannot pay his fine by this day +week, you may come here again, and we will consult upon his case. +Studley, the fine to which this young woman has made herself liable is +remitted. It is clearly a case of remarkable ignorance. The adulterated +tea must be destroyed, of course. You will see to it; but treat her +gently, if you please.” + +The commissioner then explained to Anna that all who were discontented +with any decision of this court might seek redress in the Court of +Appeal. Anna found it difficult to understand exactly what was meant. +The only clear idea she carried away was that nobody ever applied to +this Court of Appeal; so that most people began to wish that it might be +done away as one of the useless burdens of the Excise. She was sure that +she should not be the next person to appeal. The court might be done +away for anything she had to say against it. Its being seldom or never +applied to seemed to show that the court she was now in was thought to +conduct its business well; but it appeared to her that it would be a +happy thing to sweep away both, and all excise jurisdiction whatsoever. + +“Where is Brennan?” asked Anna, when she and her companion had made +their low curtsies, and turned round, with lightened hearts, to go away. + +“He was off some time since,” Mrs. Brennan replied; “to run and tell +your mother how matters were going, I dare say. They have been merciful +to you, ma’am; and I give you joy.” + +“O, Mrs. Brennan, I think I never will dread anything again. I have +often said so before, finding what I most dreaded come to a very little. +I never was so frightened in my life before; but I really will try never +to be afraid again.” + +She spoke a moment too soon. + +“And what do you want with us pray, Mr. Studley?” inquired Mrs. Brennan, +perceiving that that person walked close to Anna, as if he regarded her +as more or less in his custody. + +“Going to discharge my duty,” replied Studley. “The adulterated tea is +to be publicly destroyed, you know, as bad books are burned by the +common hangman.” + +“Publicly!” repeated Anna, in consternation. “Where? How?” + +“In your father’s yard. There cannot be a more convenient place for a +bonfire.” + +“Do you mean to burn the tea in sight of all the neighbours?” + +“That depends on whether they choose to look. I shall certainly not try +to hang up any sort of blind.” + +“I wonder at you, ma’am,” said Mrs. Brennan, “that you go on asking him +questions, just to give him the pleasure of making sharp answers.” + +Anna said no more. She was thrown back into her former state of +trepidation. It was as much as she could do to walk straight. Mrs. +Brennan seemed to think it a waste of time (or perhaps she considered it +bad for Anna) to keep silence for so long a space. She began talking of +her boy, and fished for a few compliments for him; but her companion +seemed strangely careless of what she was saying. + +“What a smell of burning!” Mrs. Brennan exclaimed when they drew near +the pottery-yard. All three looked round for tokens of fire; and Studley +observed that one might have thought the furnaces were all employed, as +they had been in his time. Smoke was coming out of the window of the +kitchen, and even oozing from under the door. Anna really believed that +the place was on fire, and exclaimed accordingly; when Brennan put his +head out at the window, and Mrs. Le Brocq opened the door. Both seemed +terribly heated, and made a display of scorched cheeks which would have +done honour to a Christmas fire. It was evident from their looks that +nothing was the matter. + +“Let me in,” said Studley, in a voice of authority. “Clear a space in +the yard for the fire. Boy, call the workmen (if there be any +now-a-days) to clear the yard for the burning; and if nobody is on the +premises, fetch some of the neighbours.” + +“What may you be pleased to be going to burn?” asked the boy, briskly. + +“My tea,” faltered Anna. “Come this way, Mr. Studley, and I will show +you the cupboard where every grain of it is; and if you have any +kindness in you, you will be quick with the job, and finish it before +the neighbours can gather about us. Mother,” continued she, as she +entered the kitchen, whose atmosphere was rapidly clearing, “what have +you been about? The hearth is piled up with ashes as high as the grate, +and the grate is heaped half way up the chimney; and you look ready to +faint with the heat and the vapour.” + +“Mistress won’t mind it, since we have got done in time,” observed the +boy, cheerfully; and then he began humming a tune. Studley had meanwhile +advanced in slow dignity to the place which Anna had indicated to him. +There was nothing in it. While he took an astonished survey of the +shelves, Brennan went on from his humming to singing, and his words were +some that every child is familiar with,— + + “And when she came there, + The cupboard was bare, + And so the poor dog had none.” + +“The poor dog, ha, ha!” repeated Mrs. Brennan, laughing. “And so the +poor dog had none! So he put his tail between his legs, and slunk away, +I dare say. Did not he, my dear?” + +Studley was now obliged to do something very like this. The boy had been +quick. The moment he heard the tea condemned to destruction by the +court, he ran with all speed to discharge Studley’s errand for him. The +last packet of tea was smouldering when he heard Anna’s exclamation that +there must be a fire somewhere. Studley would have Mrs. Le Brocq’s +tea-caddy brought down; and he fingered and smelled the contents. They +were perfectly unexceptionable; and nothing remained for him but to go +away. He felt to his back-bone the slam of the door behind him, and to +the bottom of his soul the significance of the buzz of voices that came +through the open window as he passed it. That Anna should escape thus +easily was the last thing he had designed. And what an impudent little +wretch that boy was, to be insulting him,—so lately his superior at the +pottery,—with his nursery rhymes! All day, nothing would stay in +Studley’s head but + + “The cupboard was bare, + And so the poor dog had none.” + + + + + CHAPTER IV. + + FRIEND OR FOE? + + +Though Anna’s adventure in the court had ended much less unpleasantly +than she had expected, she had no strong inclination to appear upon the +scene again. The words “this day week” were for ever on her mind; and +hour by hour she revolved the possibilities and improbabilities of her +father being able to discharge the fine within the time specified. The +first day passed over pretty well. Her mother and she were full of the +satisfaction of her own escape. On the second day, they consulted about +advertising their stock again, and wished they had done it yesterday. +Anna went to get the Durells’ opinions; but nobody was at home except +the maid, who could or would give no account of her master and mistress, +and was not over civil in her manner. Night came before the question of +advertising or not advertising was settled; and the next morning, Mrs. +Le Brocq seemed rather disposed to have an auction, at which the stock, +the household furniture, and the pottery business might be all sold +together, so that the family might be off for Jersey the moment Le Brocq +should be released. Anna was alarmed at the idea of an auction, fearing +some difficulty or danger about the duty. Mr. Durell had offered to +assist her with his knowledge of excise law, in all cases of need; and +once more she sought him. This time the Durells were at home: but the +maid scarcely opened the door three inches, and was positive that her +master and mistress could see no person whatever, even for two minutes. +Jack’s face was visible for an instant, peeping under the maid’s arm; +but, on being spoken to, he disappeared behind her skirts, and would not +be persuaded to show himself again. Mrs. Le Brocq was more bent than +ever on having the auction when her daughter came home bringing no +opinion against it. She had got a glimpse of the prospect of seeing her +Louise again, and had much to say that had been said often before on the +hardship of not having seen poor Louise ever since the first week of her +marriage. Who could tell whether, if this auction should go off well, +she might not, even yet, be with Louise before her confinement? She was +not sparing of her reproaches to Anna because she would not begin her +preparations this very evening: but Anna would do nothing without +consulting her father, whom she could not see till the next afternoon; +and so the third day passed without progress being made towards paying +the fine, and there was every prospect of the fourth elapsing without +any further advance than the formation of a plan. Her mother hurried her +away, when the time drew near for her visit to her father; and so did +her own inclination; though she hardly expected that the prison-doors +would be opened any sooner on account of her impatience. Her mother and +she had better have been more reasonable. She had not been gone more +than four minutes, (and she had to wait ten at the prison gate,) before +a stranger arrived on business. He came from the Board of Excise, on a +little affair which would be easily transacted,—over in a quarter of an +hour; there was no occasion to trouble any of the family further than +just to show him the way to the stock-room. His people were behind with +the cart; and he had desired them to be as quiet as possible, and give +no trouble. He was an excise officer, come for the purpose of levying +the fine for which Mr. Le Brocq was now imprisoned. + +Nothing could exceed the old lady’s consternation. Her first idea was +that it would be politic to carry herself high. She therefore declared +that she could not think of admitting a stranger on any such errand. Mr. +Durell was the gentleman they always employed on this kind of occasion. + +The officer half smiled while he explained that it was the Board, and +not traders, who were said to employ officers on excise business; and +the Board must choose what officers it would send on particular pieces +of service. He was aware that Mr. Durell was an intimate friend of the +family; but Mr. Durell would not be seen by them on this occasion. + +“And now, ma’am, here come our people. If you will just show us the way, +as I said, we will not trouble you to stay. You may trust the affair to +me. I have orders to be considerate; and you shall have no reason to +complain. I will look in upon you when we have done, and leave with you +the order for release, which you will allow me to wish you joy of.” + +No such thing. Mrs. Le Brocq saw no joy in the affair. Here was Studley: +there was the cart with another attendant; and her husband’s beautiful +jars and filterers were being handed into it, to be carried off. She +declared she would appeal to the neighbours. She would raise the +neighbourhood. + +“Let me advise you not, madam. I have desired my men,——Studley, be more +quiet, will you?——I have desired my men to make no disturbance: and, if +you make none, the neighbours will take us for customers, and you will +be spared all disagreeable remarks. Be quick, Studley!” + +Mrs. Le Brocq loudly exclaimed that they might well desire quietness +when they came like thieves to carry away her property. They had good +reason to fear being mobbed; and mobbed they should be. The officer +quietly and civilly showed his warrant, and cited that clause of the Act +which provides that all persons who oppose, molest, or otherwise hinder +any officer of excise in the execution of his duty, shall respectively, +for every such offence, forfeit two hundred pounds. The good woman dared +do nothing worse after this than turn her back upon the trio and their +occupation, and shut herself into her house. There she sat, rocking +herself in her great chair, and not even knitting, when, in less than a +quarter of an hour, the officer tapped at the door, and requested +admittance. At first, she would not hear; and when she dared be deaf no +longer, she became lame, and made him wait, on account of her +rheumatism, as long as she possibly could. It gave him pleasure, he said +good-humouredly, to deliver to her the order he held in his hand, his +little business being now finished. Her hands were too busy, as she +pretended, fumbling under her apron, to be at liberty to take the note. +She bade him carry it back to those that sent it; and when he declined +doing this, she sullenly nodded towards a table where he might lay it +down. He obeyed orders, touched his hat, and departed. + +She was still rocking herself in her great chair when Anna returned. + +“O, mother, what has happened now?” cried Anna, seeing that matters had +gone wrong during her absence. “Mother, speak! Have the Excise been upon +us again?” + +“To be sure: carrying off all we were going to sell by auction. They +want to put me into prison, too. I shall never see Louise more.” + +“O, mother, did they say so?” cried Anna, sinking into a chair. “I hope, +at least, they will put you beside my father;—and me, too,” she +faltered, as the idea crossed her of her being left alone on the +premises, her parents in prison, and the Durells, from some cause, +inaccessible. “Mother, how could they have the heart to tell you that +you must go to prison? Was it Studley? I suppose it was Studley. And +when, mother? When——” + +Her mother let her go on tormenting herself till the frequent repetition +of the question “when?” compelled her to admit that nobody had exactly +said that she was to go to prison. But they could mean nothing else by +robbing her of all that she had left. By degrees it came out that +Studley had been very quiet, and in fact had said nothing at all; that +if he had, it should have been the worse for him; that the officer who +was set over him would not soon forget his visit, for Mrs. Le Brocq had +shown him, when he offered that bit of paper (lying on the table there) +that she would not touch with a pair of tongs anything brought by him. + +Without the intervention of a pair of tongs, Anna took up the paper. +Minute after minute, she stood with it in her hand, her mother not +condescending to take any notice. She leaned against the table, and +again began to ponder it, the intent of the whole proceeding opening +upon her more and more distinctly. + +“I could wish, mother,” said she at length, “that the gentleman had +asked you to read this paper, or had told you something of what it +means, that we might not seem to the Board to be ungrateful. As far as I +can make out,—I am pretty sure,—our fine is paid, and my father may come +home directly.” + +Mrs. Le Brocq was in due amazement: but, when she had taken out her +spectacles, and read the order for the release of her husband, his fine +being paid, she comforted herself about her own manners by observing +upon the improbability of her receiving any civility from the Excise; +and that, after all, there was no occasion to thank them for letting her +husband out of prison, when they had done him such a wrong as ever to +put him in. She now found that it was possible for her to get as far as +the prison; a thing hitherto not to be thought of. Anna would gladly +have left her behind, so impatient was she of every moment which must +elapse before her father could know of his release. Her mother was +terribly long in getting herself ready for her walk; and such a walk +Anna had never undergone, except in a dream. At last the moment came +when the door of the well-known apartment was opened before her. + +She had hitherto seen her father only at an hour when she was expected; +and then he was always sitting at the table, or pacing up and down the +room. She now found him lying at length along a bench, his face resting +on his hands. + +“He is ill!” cried Anna, pressing forward. + +“Far from it, ma’am,” said the man who had offered to sell her a sheet +of paper. “No worse than usual, ma’am. That is the way that he spends +most of his time, except when he is expecting you; and then, who could +look doleful?” + +Le Brocq had started off his bench on hearing Anna’s voice, and shaken +himself, to get rid of his sloth or his emotion, whichever it might be +that kept him lying there. When he saw his wife, he was sure that +something remarkable had happened; and most probably of a disastrous +nature: for Mrs. Le Brocq’s leading taste, next to knitting, was for +telling bad news. He was not sorry, however, to find that good news +would serve her turn when there was no bad to be had. + +It is surprising how people get good manners without teaching,—some very +suddenly, on particular occasions of their lives. Le Brocq had been +considered by his prison companions an under-bred, churlish sort of +person: but now he was full of courtesy, from the moment he knew that he +was going to leave them. He hoped they would find the improved space and +air they would have in consequence of his absence a great advantage. He +sincerely trusted that nobody else would be put there to intrude upon +them as he had done. He was flattered at the groaning sigh and +melancholy look with which this was received, not suspecting the nature +of the regrets felt by his comrades,—regrets after the dominoes which he +had not forgotten to pocket, and after the relief they had enjoyed from +the irksomeness of double dumbie, if they played whist at all. They +would now have willingly buried in oblivion all the faults of his +playing, for which they had often pronounced him to his face +incorrigibly stupid,—all would they gladly have forgiven and forgotten, +if he could but have stayed to save them from double dumbie. But it +could not be. Le Brocq was on the point of saying that he should be very +happy to see them if ever they should chance to be travelling near his +place in Jersey; but he remembered in time what was due to his family, +and what had arisen already out of the visit of one questionable +personage. He was sorry now that he had beguiled some irksome hours with +exact accounts, perhaps too tempting, of his farm, and of his mode of +life in Jersey, with all its advantages; and when his prison-mates asked +what he meant to do with himself now, he gave an answer implying an +intention to remain in London,—not a little to the dismay of his wife +and daughter. + +He seemed, when he came out, to be suddenly smitten with London. Brennan +was waiting outside, with a smiling face. He had come, thinking he might +carry his master’s clothes-bag. Le Brocq was sure there was no such +place as London for having little services done for you, almost before +you can wish for them.—The party crossed one of the bridges. Really, he +believed there could be no such river in the world as this river in +London; and he defied anybody to match St. Paul’s as he saw it now.—What +a beautiful sunny evening it was! How the sun glittered on the water! +His wife, who was puffing and blowing, wished it was not so hot; and +Anna ventured to hint that he might perhaps think the more of these +things from having been shut up so long. For her part, she liked a +strait of the sea better than any river. This hint threw her sober +father into an ecstacy about a strait of the sea; notwithstanding which, +it was still difficult to get him off the bridge. When this was +accomplished, however, the shops and carriages did as well; and a bunch +of fresh flowers at a greengrocer’s made him mentally drunk. Anna, +thinking him now in the best mood for friendship, paused when they came +to the turn which led to Durell’s house, and proposed that they should +go round, and tell their friends the good news. + +“Ay, to be sure,” replied her father. “It would be a pity to go home +yet,—such a fine evening as it is.” + +Brennan observed that he could still carry something more, now he was so +near the pottery. If Miss Anna would trust him with the basket, he would +step on with the things. Anna gave him also the key of the house-door, +and asked him to see that the kettle boiled by the time she should +arrive to make tea. She saw by her father’s countenance that the very +words were delicious to him, and he owned as much as that nothing gave +such an appetite as the fresh air. + +“But I am sure Mrs. Durell is at home,” said Anna, when the little girl +once more declined letting anybody in. “I saw her cap as I passed the +window. Tell her, my dear, that if she is offended with us, we wish she +would tell us why; and, whether she is offended or not, I should like to +see her for two minutes, to tell her something that I am sure she would +be pleased to hear.” + +The little girl looked behind her, and Mrs. Durell appeared, thin, and +anxious-looking. She cast a glance up and down the street before she +spoke, and then merely said that there was no quarrel; that her husband +was ill and out of spirits; she would thank them to be so good as not to +come in now; and as soon as she could, she would call in upon them, or +send to know if Anna could spare her a quarter of an hour. But not now. + +“We could not now, Mrs. Durell. Here is my father—going home with us to +tea, you see. We have a great deal to tell you; and perhaps we shall +have but a short time to tell it in. You must come and talk with us +about Jersey. But I am sorry Mr. Durell is ill. Is it only just to-day? +or has he been ill long?” + +“He has had enough to make him ill these ten days. God knows what will +become of us all! But he has done nothing wrong, Anna, if you will +believe me. Good bye, my dear. I cannot tell you any more now.” + +“Poor Mrs. Durell!” sighed Anna, as she left the door. “I wonder what +has happened now. I am sure it is something very terrible. But I knew +she could not have quarrelled with us.” + +“Poor woman!” said Le Brocq, complacently. “This evening would be hardly +the time to quarrel with us, however it might have been while I was +away. They will keep on good terms with us now, I dare say. Poor woman! +She looks very pale. She looks as if she had been shut up. She cannot +have been much out of doors lately, I fancy. Ah, ha! Here we come near +the soapery. We are near home now. There is the great ladle still! You +have let the ladle stand, I see.” + +“I hope it will stand there long after we are gone out of the way of the +soapery and the pottery, and all the places here,” Anna ventured to say. + +What could be the reason that they could not get into the house? Brennan +was not visible and the door was locked. On looking through the window, +the clothes-bag might be seen, and the fire was blazing, so that he had +certainly been home. What could have become of him and the key? It was +impossible to be angry with anybody this evening; so Anna found a seat +for her mother in the yard, and she and her father went to the rear to +look at the river from the wharf. There was so much to see and admire as +the boats put off and returned, so much wondering how that wooden-legged +waterman would manage to keep his footing, so much speculation as to +whence such and such vessels came, and whither they were going, that tea +was forgotten, after all, till Brennan came running to tell them that it +was ready. + +“There, now; this is what I call comfortable,” declared Le Brocq, as he +entered the parlour, and saw, not only tea, but a pile of hot cakes and +a jar of flowers. “How in the world do you get such flowers here? They +might have grown in a Jersey meadow.” + +“They seem to me the same that you admired in the shop as we passed,” +said Anna. “And I know the pattern of the jar. It is one that Brennan +has been making after his own fancy.” + +Le Brocq could not but have thought this jar a very beautiful one, in +any of his moods. This evening he was disposed to pronounce it the most +elegant that had ever proceeded from any pottery; but Brennan modestly +disclaimed this. It did not come up to the one that put the idea of this +into his head,—one that he had seen at the British Museum. + +“Bring the other one that you made after this,” said Anna; who explained +to her father that there was one other jar which Brennan himself thought +superior to this; and that a third had come off the wheel this morning +which was likely to be the best of all. These jars were all the boy’s +own property, as he had paid by extra work for the clay and the use of +the apparatus. The boy did not bring the second jar, for the good reason +that it was no longer within reach. He had parted with it to the +green-grocer for the flowers, and money enough to buy these hot buttered +cakes. + +It was difficult to make the boy sit down to table near his own flowers; +and then he was too modest to be easily persuaded to taste his own +cakes. It was not for himself that he got them, he said. + +“Did you ever get anything for yourself?” Anna inquired of him. + +“O, yes, ma’am; many a time.” + +“What was the last thing you got for yourself?” + +“Some new runners for the jars. If you please to look, ma’am, this here +is a new pattern quite.” + +“If you had a great deal of money, what would you do with it?” + +“I would belong to the Mechanics’ Institution, and learn to draw; and +then I might get the prize,—a good many guineas.” + +“And what would you do with those guineas,—help your mother, or marry a +wife, or what?” + +“I would get some marble to cut. Marble is very dear, they say; but I +saw a good many marble things in the British Museum.” + +Le Brocq, always ready with a word against Durell, wished he had taken +the boy anywhere but to the British Museum, if he must meddle with him +at all. He had heard the proper place to take boys to for a holiday was +Sadler’s Wells. If he had gone there, Brennan would have had no +extravagant notions about getting marble, or anything else that would +come in the way of his being a good potter; and he reminded Brennan that +the Scripture told of a potter at the wheel. + +Anna looked at the jar before her, and wondered whether it would have +been produced if the boy had been taken to Sadler’s Wells instead of the +British Museum. + +“You had better be a journeyman potter, boy,” said Le Brocq. “You may +make money by informing against your master, if you watch him closely +enough.” + +Brennan coloured indignantly, and only said he should like to cut things +in marble, because the excise had nothing to do with that, he believed. +When the marble was once paid for, duty and all, there was no more +meddling from anybody. + +“You had better go with us to Jersey, then, if you don’t like the +excise; and there you will be free of the customs too. There you may get +what you want, without paying even duty. You had better go with us to +Jersey.” + +Neither Anna nor her mother attempted to conceal her delight at the +mention of going back to Jersey; whereupon Le Brocq put on a grave +countenance of deliberative wisdom, and, premising that he had no wish +to exclude so discreet a boy as Brennan from hearing what he had to say, +went on to declare that his conscience had long been uneasy about uncle +Anthony’s son Anthony. He could not approve of parental displeasure +going so far as to deprive an only son of his father’s flourishing +business, and leaving it to comparative strangers. + +“O, father, that is the best word you have said since uncle Anthony +died!” exclaimed Anna, with clasped hands. “That is,” she continued, +recollecting that she had uttered a speech of extraordinary freedom, “I +have wished, this long while, that you might be thinking sometimes of +how we came into this business, and whether it did not rightfully belong +to another.” + +“One could not see in a day what kind of a legacy it would prove,” +observed Le Brocq; “and I have no doubt that, though it is not exactly +the thing to suit us, it will be as fine a business to those who have +been brought up in a taxed country as uncle Anthony said it was. Uncle +Anthony did very wrong in leaving away his property from his only son. +The wonder would have been if, being so bequeathed, the business had +prospered. The proper thing to do next is to find out where the young +man is, and to write directly to him to come and take possession.” + +“And if he will not come?” said Mrs. Le Brocq, dreading delay. + +“If he will not come, he must dispose of the business in his own way. +That is his affair, not mine.” + +“Then you do not mean to wait till you can hear from America? I am very +glad,” observed Anna. “It would take some months to settle all about the +giving up the property, as the owner is so far off. I am very glad you +do not mean to wait.” + +“I cannot think of waiting for him; or any longer than to settle two or +three little affairs. Brennan, what has been done about those bottles +that are to go abroad? that large order for bottles, you know.” + +“They are almost ready, sir. We have been doing our best for them with +the few hands we have: and they may be got off this week, if you so +please, sir.” + +“Very well. I shall just finish that and one or two others of the larger +orders before I date my letter, and make an auction of the furniture; +and then write my letter and be off.” + +“Of this furniture?” said Anna, looking round her. + +“To be sure. Then this boy’s mother, or somebody, will either come in, +or agree to look after the place till the young man arrives or writes.” + +“But,” said Anna, timidly, “if the business is rightfully his, are not +the orders and the furniture his too? I thought we should have to pay +him, if he requires it, for using his right so long.” + +Le Brocq muttered that he ought rather to be paid for all that he had +gone through with the pottery business, though he could not fix the +payment which would compensate to him for what he had suffered. But he +had no doubt, as he said before, that the young man would make a fine +thing of it; and the young man should have it. + +“Then we shall go very soon indeed, shall we?” said Anna. “Brennan does +not like to hear us say so.” + +The boy did indeed look grieved. He was too modest to interrupt their +deliberations with the question what was to become of him; but it was +struggling in his heart. Perceiving him just about to give way, Anna +asked him to see whether it was a dog that was making a little noise +against the door. Before he could get to the door, there was a shout +which informed them that it was not a dog but a child. Jack Durell was +not tall enough to reach the knocker, and he had tried pushing and +tapping in vain; so now he shouted, + +“Father says you are to come directly, and hear the damned bad treatment +the people have given him.” + +“Hush, my dear! hush!” cried Anna. “That is not the way you should ask +us to go.” + +“That was what father bade me tell you,—that you are to come directly, +and hear——” + +“Well, well: we will come. Did your father mean all of us, or which of +us?” + +“You are all to come directly. Father says every body shall know.” + +“’Tis his turn with these fellows now, I suppose,” Le Brocq observed, +looking rather pleased than otherwise. “Come, wife.” + +Mrs. Le Brocq was still sipping her tea. As she cast her eye over the +table, and saw how tempting the remnants of the cakes looked, she felt a +distaste to moving away. She sent a long apologetic message to the +Durells about being very tired after the agitations consequent on her +husband’s release, and was left behind, much to her own satisfaction. + + + + + CHAPTER V. + + THE DARKENING HOUR. + + +How strange it is that the inanimate objects with which people surround +themselves appear, even to strangers, to put on a different aspect +according to the mood of those whom they surround. It is quite as much +the case with the scenery of a house as with that which is not filled +and arranged by the hand of man. The natural landscape varies in its +aspects from other causes than the vicissitudes of clouds and sunshine. +There may be a human being sitting in the midst, through sympathy with +whose moods the observer may find the noon sunshine oppressive, or may +feel his spirit dance with the brook, or carol with the birds under the +murkiest sky. An infant’s glee at the lightning may almost make the +thunderstorm a sport; and the full moon may shed no light into the soul +of one who is watching with the mourner. So it is with the artificial +scenery of our houses. There are ague-fits of the spirit when the +crackling fire imparts no glow of mirth: and the coldest and dingiest of +apartments may, when illuminated with happy faces, put on something of +the light and warmth of a palace. Durell’s dwelling had always appeared +to Anna a very cheerful one,—with the employments of an active mistress +and a willing maid; Mary’s work-bag on the table, or its contents +scattered under a chair, as it might be: Jack’s toys heaped up in one +corner; drawings by the hands of many fair friends hung round the room; +and Durell’s flute lying with his music books and a few of the poets on +the book shelves. Thus were they arranged this evening; and there was a +small clear fire, and a sufficiency of light; and yet the aspect of the +apartment struck as deep a sense of gloom on Anna’s heart as the scene +of her father’s imprisonment had ever done. The children were not there; +Mary keeping by Betty’s side in the kitchen, officiously helping, in +order to escape being called to her work in the parlour; and Jack +slinking away as soon as his errand was discharged, to look for Stephen, +he said. There were only Mrs. Durell, hovering about her husband, with a +countenance in which there was as much terror as grief; and Durell +himself, in his easy chair, looking so wasted, and even decrepit, as to +make the Le Brocqs doubt, for a moment, whether he was the man they came +to see. Anna did not attempt to conceal that she was shocked, and asked +Mrs. Durell why she had not sent to their house for aid. + +Her husband’s illness had come on so rapidly, she said, that she had +scarcely known what to do: and he had been so unwilling to see any +person whatever! Besides, it was only within a few hours that he had +sunk to what they saw him now. Every ten minutes lowered him; and, +notwithstanding what the doctor said, she did not know how to disbelieve +her husband when he declared himself that he was dying. + +“His eye is not the eye of a dying man,” said Anna,—the only consolation +she could give. “Unless it has lighted up with our coming in——” + +“It is not so,” replied her friend. “His eyes have been as bright as +diamonds all to-day; and, I think, quite unnatural. O, my dear, if you +could help me to find out what should be done for him——His heart is +quite broken——” + +She could not go on. + +“I was afraid, by the message he sent——” + +“O, my dear, that was nothing to what I have seen him go through. If you +had been here when he threw himself on the floor because they told him +he would never be allowed to serve the king or his country in any way +again; if you had heard his prayer for those he must not serve, you +would not wonder at his being as you see him now.” + +“I am sorry to find you looking poorly, sir,” said Le Brocq, feeling +that he was making a stretch of complaisance, but having in his mind +something about not trampling on a fallen enemy. “I suppose these excise +devils have been plaguing you as——as——” + +“As I used to plague others, you were going to say, sir. Yes: I have +had a few messages from the Board—a few gentle messages. They sent me +word——” + +He seemed scarcely able to speak, and Anna interrupted him with + +“Perhaps, as you are so hoarse, Mr. Durell, you had better leave telling +us that till another time.” + +“No!” cried he, forcing his voice. “I can tell you, and I will, what +their messages were. The first was that my business was to act and not +to think; and that, whatever may happen, my part is to be silent and +obedient. There’s a pretty message to a free-born man! That came out of +what I said at the election where I could not vote; and of my defending +it afterwards at your house.” + +“O, dear! that is a great pity.” + +“Not at all a pity, sir, I don’t repent a syllable I said there. I am +only sorry (as sorry as they are), that they did not hear of that +election affair before three months were over.—Why?—Because then they +could have done worse with me than sending me a reprimand. They could +have thrown me into prison for a fine of 500_l._, and declared——But they +kept that for their next message. They could then have made a martyr of +me, sir; such a system must have martyrs: and I had rather have died in +jail, so that a few people would have asked why, than just be carried +from my own door to my grave without having my revenge on those devils +in power,—without any body supposing any thing but that I died, as other +people die, in their beds.” + +“But you will not die yet. You are almost a young man. You must not +think of dying yet.” + +“Only with a hope to live,” interposed Anna, to whom it was painful to +hear people told that they must not think of dying. + +“Hope to live!” exclaimed Durell, contemptuously. “What should I hope +for? The only prospect that could ever have tempted me to make myself +one of their vile crew, they have blighted and blasted. They took care I +should know, after that election business, that I should never rise any +higher,—that the best I had to expect was to be graciously allowed,—in +return for promising not to think, but to be silent and obedient,—to go +on being a king’s spy and a trader’s tormentor for life,—to keep my wife +and children alive with scanty bread soaked in the tears of my degraded +and broken manhood. This is what they offered in return for my promising +not to think, but to be silent and obedient.” + +“They little knew whom they were speaking to, indeed,” observed Anna. + +“Did not they know they were speaking to a man? There are some men that +would sooner watch an ant-hill than a hidden distillery, and that think +of a lark’s nest when they wake in the morning, and are apt to be +looking out after the stars when they should be asleep: and there are +others that are never so happy as when they are smelling out soap, and +sending a panic before them. The rulers have nothing to do with these +men’s different tastes, as long as the poet and the meddler both do +their work. But both these, and all between them, are men: and it is a +foul crime to strip them of their sight and their strength,—of their +reason and their will: and if it be true that the service they are on +requires such outrage, it only follows that the service itself is foul. +If it would but please God to restore me my strength for a little while, +I would find a way yet to pull down their despotism upon their own +heads.” + +He made an effort to rise, but the ground seemed unsteady beneath his +feet, and he sank down again. + +“They have struck me a deeper blow still,” said he, “or you would not +see me as I am now. They have believed in my dishonour, on the +information of a scoundrel. They believe that you have bribed me.” + +“That was the reason why my husband could not think of seeing you +before: the only reason,” Mrs. Durell was in haste to explain. “But it +is over now. They have turned him off, on what Mr. Studley said; and now +they want him to be thankful that he is not fined 500_l._ Thank God we +have done with them, I say. We shall be able——” + +“We have not done with them. We shall not be able,” cried Durell. “The +hounds can hunt me out of my rest wherever I may choose to seek it. They +boast that they can. They give me notice that if ever I make an attempt +to serve my country, they shall bring out their evidence to prove me +incapable of ever holding any office or place of trust under the king.” + +“But if they cannot do it, Mr. Durell?” suggested Anna. + +“They can. Ay: you look surprised: but they can. I never forgot my +honour. I never took a bribe; for you know that your Jersey pie and ale +were no bribe. But they can prove against me some things which they can +no more pardon than I can pardon certain of their practices. If a base +wretch joins a better man in evading the law, and then turns traitor, he +is excused and rewarded: but if a man with a heart in his bosom gives a +friendly warning to the careless, or passes over the first offence of +the widow that toils for her little ones, he is under ban, and can never +again serve his king. Such things they may prove against me.” + +“I doubt whether you may not still serve the king better than you have +done yet,” observed Anna. “I cannot call it doing the king any service +to make the people hate their duty to him, and to teach them to defraud +him. People should love their king very strongly, for instance, to wish +to yield him their cheerful duty through all that my father has +undergone in paying his taxes. If you do not collect the king’s money +any more, there are other ways of doing him service, which must be open +to such a man as you are. Whatever makes his kingdom a more honourable +and a happier place; whatever makes his subjects a better or more +contented people, is, in my mind, a true and faithful service of the +king.” + +“That is what I have been saying,” observed Mrs. Durell. + +“And what was my answer?” said her husband: “that not all that the +wisest and the most true-hearted of the people can do to promote +science, and public and private morality, can make any stand against +what these——” + +“Pray do not call them names,” entreated Anna. “They are men,—men said +to be of honour and principle, whose lot it is to administer a bad +system which they did not make. Do not let us blame them till we see +that they take no pains to alter that which they cannot approve.” + +“Well: call them men or devils, or what you will. They administer a +system which is enough of itself to keep us back in knowledge and art +till all the world besides has passed us, and to do worse for our morals +than all our clergy can cure. I can prove it. As for knowledge, only +look at the paper tax, keeping books and newspapers out of the reach of +those who want them most, and stinting the class above them of their +fair share of that which God has given every man as free a right to as +to the air of heaven. As for art,—when was there a nobler triumph of it +than when man fixed a yellow star out above the sea, to gleam on the +souls of thousands of tempest-tost wretches, like the gospel they +trusted in, and to give the wanderer his first welcome home?” + +“Indeed we can say that,” said Anna. “Such a light through the fog was +the best sight we saw in all the sea, in coming; and I never shut my +eyes to sleep now but I could fancy I see that light, hoping to pass +under it before long.” + +“Well: there might now be a light far better than that, or any light +that yet hangs above the sea; a light that would shine through the +thickest fog, like a morsel of the copper sun that rises on an October +morning,—a light that would save thousands of poor wretches that must +now go down into the deeps with the moans of their orphaned little ones +in their ears; and this light we may not use.” + +“Because of the excise?” + +“For no other reason. Glasses of a new construction would be required +for the light-houses: and this new construction is not such as is set +down in the excise laws. No glass-maker dares venture it, and the only +hope is that we may get some foreign nation to do it for us.” + +Anna thought it was a poor way of serving the king to drown his +subjects, and employ foreigners to work upon discoveries made at home,— +and all under pretence of taking care of the money of the state. + +“This is only one instance out of many,” Durell declared. “As for what I +said about morality, I know of cheats enough to fill a jest book.” + +“A jest-book!” said his wife, in a tone of remonstrance. + +“Nay, my dear, it is their fault, not mine, if, when they have sharpened +wits to cheat, the witty cheats are laughed at as good jokes. Last year, +a very good joke was spoiled. The wits who made it laughed in their +sleeves as long as it went on; and when it came out, every body else +laughed, the excise and all, though the crime is really as great as +robbing the widow of her mite, since the widow’s mite must go to make up +for the fraud. There is no duty on soap in Ireland; and some cunning +Englishmen, who had made soap without paying the duty, packed it up for +Ireland, got the drawback of 28_l._ a ton, just as if they had paid the +duty, and sent it off, smuggled it back again, packed it afresh, got the +drawback again, and sent it off, and again smuggled it back; and so on, +four times over. Now, for the idea of this cheat, for the lies that were +told, for the false oaths that were taken in carrying it on, and for the +making a sordid crime into a joke, the excise is answerable. And this is +what the excise does for morality.” + +“And this is the way the money of the people is managed,” observed Le +Brocq; “wrenched from the honest working man with one hand, that it may +be given away to the fraudulent great trader with the other!” + +Mrs. Durell had been well pleased at the turn the conversation had +taken, seeing that, while her husband’s attention was occupied with +matters of detail, he resumed more and more of his usual countenance, +voice and manner. There was less fierceness in his eye, less effort in +his speech, and he sat almost upright. But Le Brocq spoiled all. + +“I cannot but wonder at you, Durell, especially as you are a Jerseyman, +that you, knowing the system so well, should have left it to the +gentlemen to turn you out.” + +“Wonder at me!” said Durell, after a pause, during which he could not +speak. “Wonder at me! Why don’t you curse me and loathe me for being an +abject wretch, for the sake of my children’s bread? I thank God for +taking their bread from them before my eyes, if it teaches them to +despise their father and their father’s business.” + +“O, husband!” cried Mrs. Durell. + +“I mean what I say,” he continued, with a forced calmness of voice and +manner. “I am going to leave them—to leave them in your charge; and I +command you to bring them up in horror of everything that is dishonest, +and vile, and cruel; and if you bring them up to abhor everything that +is dishonest, and vile, and cruel, you must bring them up either to +forget their father and his employments, or to despise him for being so +employed. I give you your choice, and only pray God that I may hide +myself in my grave before either comes to pass.” + +“Don’t listen to him. Don’t believe him,” cried the wife, turning first +to Le Brocq, and then to Anna. “You see he is not himself; you see he is +talking like——” + +“Like a man who is waking from a morning dream,” said her husband, whose +excited senses caught looks and words which were not intended for him. +“I am not drunk, Le Brocq, though I have no right to complain if you +fancy me so; and I am not mad.” + +“But angry,—very angry,” Anna ventured to interpose. + +“Well; if I have been angry, it has nothing to do with what I am going +to say, which is about you and yours, Le Brocq, with whom I have no +cause to be angry. I am like a man waking from a dream; and I see many +things that I wish it had pleased God that I should see long ago.” + +“You cannot say you have no cause to be angry with us,” cried Le Brocq, +moved by a sudden impulse of sensibility; “that is, with me. Anna has +always been your friend; and if my wife has not, it is only because she +has copied me. I have doubted you all along till now; and I am very +sorry for it.” + +“Doubted my honour?” asked Durell, bitterly. + +“Doubted your being the friend you professed yourself. I thought that +you might, with the power of your office, have prevented some of the +misfortunes that have befallen us. But now I find——” + +“Now you find that I have been a slave, obliged to stand by, and see +those punished that I would fain have saved. Now you find that an +exciseman must choose his friends by their trades, if there be any +trades that the curse of his employment does not light upon. We used to +think that God has shown how friendships should arise,—shown it by the +meeting of the eyes that glance sympathy; and the grasp of the hands +when men find that they had the same birth-place. But the power that has +stepped in between us has set aside God’s arrangements altogether. You +and I gathered nuts, as children, in the same deep lanes, and played +about the same poquelaye; but as soon as I would have grasped hands upon +this, what happened? You believed it the grasp of a traitor, and our +enemies said we were giving and taking a bribe; and between you both, I +am sunk to perdition, body and soul.” + +“But that is all over now. Nobody will think any more——” + +“It will never be over. The stain will be as lasting as the record of my +name in the creation. When people shall see me carried to my grave, a +few days hence, they will remember how they saw me last carried through +the streets,—a brute, lower than the lowest of all other brutes. When +they meet my wife in her weeds, they will look into her face to see if +there is not joy hidden under it, because her torment of a husband is +gone.” + +“Do stop him. I cannot bear it,” said Mrs. Durell, putting her hands +before her face. + +“You will bear it very well, my dear. It is true, you will have no bread +to give your children; and when you beg it, people will stop to consider +whether they ought to help the children of the dissolute exciseman; but +all this will not set against the relief of having got rid of the wretch +himself. Ah! you don’t think so now, because you pity me, as you would +pity a sickly child;—you pity me for sitting drooping here, with a +perishing carcase and a worn-out spirit. But I don’t want your pity. I +won’t be treated like a child—I say——” + +He rose from his chair, and took a few strides towards his wife, +evidently in a state of delirium. The urgency of the occasion seemed to +inspire Le Brocq with the very sentiment which suited the moment. + +“I say, Mr. Durell,” said he, “no man likes being made a child of; and I +like it no better than other men; so I am going back,——come, you had +better sit down again; take my arm;——I am going back to Jersey. Have you +any messages for your old friends there?” + +“To Jersey: ay; you are right there, Le Brocq. That was what I was going +to say. Don’t stay here, where there is more misery caused by mere +paying taxes than there is in Jersey by all God’s dark providences +together. Go and tell them, whatever they do,” he continued, settling +himself in his chair again,——“tell them, whatever they do, not to dare, +for the sake of raising money for the state, to crush the simple and +high-minded, and exalt the mean and crafty——” + +“Ay; Studley! How that fellow is flourishing at the expense of us all!” +cried Le Brocq. + +Anna marked the flashing of Durell’s eyes at the name, and interposed. + +“We shall soon be settled in our farm again, Mr. Durell; and perhaps you +will be well enough to come and see us by the time we begin shaking the +trees in the orchard.” + +“Shaking the trees in the orchard,” repeated Durell slowly, as if the +words revived some intensely pleasurable recollections. + +“Your old friends were very sorry when you went away, and they will be +heartily glad to hear you are coming back. You will come and see us, Mr. +Durell.” + +“Come, my dear! ay; that I will,—in body or in spirit. I will be at your +apple-cropping. I will pelt you with apples; and if you cannot see where +they come from, remember who promised you this. I will echo you when you +go to call home your cows. I will rustle in the ivy when you pass the +Holy Oak;—(that old oak is the first place I shall go to.) I will walk +round and round you as you sit on the poquelaye; and if you feel a +sudden breath of air upon your face, remember who it was that said he +would haunt you. God will hear my prayer, and let me see Jersey again, +whether I die first or not.—Jack! Come here, Jack!” + +His feeble voice could not make itself heard further than half across +the room; but Jack came in from the kitchen, in answer to Le Brocq’s +effectual call. His father desired him to bring down the flute from the +book-shelves; and his manner of obeying,—as if he was by no means sure +whether he had to do with his father or with a ghost,—did not help to +recover Anna from the chilly fit into which she had been thrown by +Durell’s promises. She did not think she could ever go out to call home +the cows, or pass the Holy Oak or the poquelaye. She had never feared +Durell till this night; but he was strangely altered; and she thought +that the impression of this night would be stronger than that of all her +previous acquaintance with him. + +“Stand here, boy; don’t go away,” said Durell to Jack, who was most +unwillingly pinned between his father’s knees to hear the flute. Durell +began an air which is sung by the common people in Jersey every day of +the year; but his breath failed him directly; and he allowed the +instrument to be taken from him. + +“Then I may go,” said Jack, gently struggling to escape. + +“Yes, my dear,” said his mother. “Your father is tired now; he has done +enough for this evening.” + +“No, no,” said Durell. “I must tell him what he is to see at home. +I must tell him what little boys do in Jersey. When I was your age, +Jack——” + +“To-morrow, love,” said his wife. “You can tell him to-morrow.” + +“I should like to hear what boys do in Jersey,” declared Jack, his +confidence returning. + +“And so you shall, my boy. Sit still, Le Brocq. I shall want you to help +me. When I was your age. Jack——” + +And then he proceeded to tell how in his childhood he went out through +thickets of the blue hydrangea to the dells where he spent the whole day +in birds’ nesting; and of the hatfull of wild flowers that he treated +himself with before he began to climb the trees whose ivy was his +ladder. Not two minutes after he had soothed himself into a state of +calmness by these recollections, he began to speak indistinctly, and to +appear drowsy. Jack was admonished by gesture not to ask for any thing +over again; not to be impatient for what was to come next. This was a +hard admonition; and when his father sank back asleep, and he was gently +withdrawn from between the knees which no longer held him, the poor boy +was quietly weeping at having to wait for the rest of the story. Not +even his mother suspected how long he would have to wait. + +The Le Brocqs stole away. Jack was put quietly out of the room. Mrs. +Durell hung a shade upon the lamp, fed the fire with the least possible +noise, and sat down with her work opposite her husband, trusting that he +was dreaming of the meads and coves of his native island, and that he +would thus sleep on till morning. Long before morning, she had +discovered that he would wake no more. The Le Brocqs were called up +early by Stephen to be told that they had heard the very last words of +him who had died of a broken heart. + +It was a great blessing that his last words were words of peace. There +was no need for Anna to implore little Jack to treasure up what his +father was saying when he fell asleep. When Jack was grown up into a +man, it was still a matter of mourning to him that he had not heard the +whole of what his father had to tell about birds’ nesting in the dells +of Jersey. + + + + + CHAPTER VI. + + THE LAND OF SIGNALS. + + +The Le Brocqs were more anxious than ever to leave London when they had +seen their friendly countryman laid in the ground. In order to repay +himself as far as he could for the troubles he had incurred in business, +Le Brocq determined to carry with him to Jersey as much as he could +convey of his manufactured article. The cider-makers of the islands +would be very glad of his bottles, he knew, if he could sell them cheap +enough; and he believed he could sell them cheap, and yet secure a +profit by obtaining the drawback on exportation allowed by law. After +all the experience he had had of the duty-paying in England, it still +did not occur to him that there might be difficulty in recovering the +duty which the law professed to restore. Nothing can be more evident +than that when a tax is imposed on the consumption of any article, and +is advanced by the maker of the article, the maker should be repaid what +he has advanced when the article goes to be consumed by the people of +another empire, or by those in some other part of the same empire who +may be particularly exempted from the payment of the duty. Le Brocq +imagined that all he should have to do would be to show how much duty he +had paid upon the ware he wished to export, and to receive the sum back +again. He even speculated on whether the government would allow him +interest on the money he had advanced. He considered it his due; but he +would not delay his departure on account of any disagreement of this +kind. He would not put off till another day the conclusion of a business +which he supposed might be transacted in ten minutes. He little thought +that the keenest and most practised exporter would laugh as much at the +idea of finishing the affair in a few minutes as at that of receiving +interest for the duty advanced. It might be that because he was +discovered to be a novice, he was more strictly dealt with than those +who are acquainted with the regulations of the excise and customs; but +he found himself much mistaken in his calculations. It is not for the +benefit of the king’s interests, or for the credit of his service, that +practised persons are comparatively little watched, while novices are +well nigh persecuted under the perplexing system of the excise and +customs. It is unjust and injurious, but perfectly natural;—natural, +because no human patience, industry, and vigilance can be expected to be +always equal to the disgusting labour of spying and detecting. It is +natural that those who have been made fully aware of the dangers they +incur by fraud should be left under the influence of fear to swear truly +and pay duly, though unexamined. Honour is a word out of use upon these +occasions; or is employed merely as a word. Fear is the influence to +which his majesty’s officers trust, when they leave a practised trader +to declare his own claims and responsibilities, and show how he wishes +his business to be managed. Fear is the influence they invoke when they +impress the inexperienced with awe, or worry him out of his temper, with +a view to saving themselves future trouble. Fear is the influence above +all unfavourable to the interests of a king, and the security of a +government; and that which should be used, not for the levying of its +support, but only for the deterring of its subjects from crime, against +which all other precautions had previously been taken. + +The officers succeeded in inspiring the Jerseyman with fear, insomuch +that he presently doubted whether he could at last get away without +leaving his bottles behind. While others, happier than he, paid down +small sums with one hand, and received larger with the other, after +gabbling over oaths which none but the initiated could understand, and +witnessing certain entries made on their own declaration, Le Brocq had a +much longer ceremony to go through. He had to swear that the bottles he +wished to export were none of them under the weight of three ounces; +that he had given due notice to the officer of excise of his intention +to ship his wares; that the contents of the package corresponded with +the document signed by the excise officer; that they were all marked +with an E X; that none were broken; that none had been used; that no +prohibited article was in the package; that the wares were packed +according to law, without vacant spaces or other improprieties; that +they were believed to be entirely of English manufacture, and that they +had paid duty; and so on. He was next told, as a friendly warning, that +if the package was not properly prepared for sealing, (_i. e._ with a +hollow scooped out for the purpose,) the goods would be forfeited: if +any brand or mark was erased, the goods would be forfeited, and the +offender would be fined 200_l._: if the package was not on board within +twelve hours from the time of branding or sealing, it would be +forfeited; and so on. Moreover, the searcher had power to open and +examine the package; and if it was found that the exporter was not +correct in every tittle of what he had sworn, he would be indicted for +perjury. Le Brocq had as much horror of a false oath as any man; but he +now felt how easily a timid or a hasty man might be tempted into one, +for the sake of escaping as soon and as easily as possible from the +inquisition of the excise. He felt the strength of the temptation to a +trader to swear to the legal preparation of a box, the packing of which +he had not superintended. + +In the next place, he found that, so far from obtaining interest upon +the duty he had advanced, he must be at some expense to recover the +drawback. The debenture, or certificate of the customs officer that he +would be entitled to the drawback, is on a ten-shilling stamp; and he +who would recover the amount of one tax could do it only by paying +another. To recover an excise tax, he must pay a stamp tax. The dismay +of the Jerseyman, thus haunted by taxes to the last, was highly amusing +to a fellow-sufferer who stood by, and who proclaimed his own worse +fate. He was receiving back the duty upon four packages of goods, and +each debenture cost him 11_s._ 6_d._; making 2_l._ 7_s._ the cost of +recovering 10_l._ But this was not the last discovery that Le Brocq had +to make. + +It appeared finally that, as the goods were intended for the Channel +islands, the drawback could not be allowed till a certificate of the +landing of the goods could be produced, signed by the collector and +comptroller of the customs on the island where the ware was landed. Le +Brocq was not the less disconcerted by this news for its being made +evident to him that such an arrangement is necessary under a system of +taxation by excise and customs. It was clear, as he acknowledged, that +without such a precaution, the drawback might be obtained upon goods +which were not really destined for the Channel islands: but the +arrangement did not the less interfere with his private convenience. + +What was to be done now? He had no inclination to leave the goods, or to +forego the drawback; and there was no one here to whom he could commit +his affairs. After a long consultation at home, it was agreed that Le +Brocq should, after all, stay till cousin Anthony, or instructions from +him, should arrive; and that Mrs. Le Brocq and Anna should proceed to +the islands, conducting and conducted by Stephen. Stephen was not +exactly the kind of escort that the family would have thought of +accepting, some time before: but circumstances were now changed. He +could guide them to Aaron: he could secure for them, by ways and means +of his own, a remarkably cheap passage. He was now adrift, there being +no longer a home for him at Mrs. Durell’s; and he promised, for his own +sake as well as that of his companions, to make the most, instead of the +least, of such sight as he had left. As he could not expect to meet with +another Durell to house and cherish him, it was his interest to find his +way back to his old comrades, and see what they could do for him. While +offering his parting thanks and blessing to Mrs. Durell, he intimated to +her that, though he could not see to write, she should hear from him in +a way which he hoped would be acceptable;—an intimation which she +received with about the same degree of belief that she had been +accustomed to give to the protestations of others of her husband’s +protégés. + +Mild were the airs, and cloudless was the sky when the vessel which +conveyed the Le Brocqs and their escort drew near the Swinge of +Alderney, and when the Channel islands rose to view, one after another, +from the sunny sea. The stupendous wall of rock which seems to forbid +the stranger to dream of exploring Alderney, rose on the left; the +little russet island of Berhou on the right; and, beyond it, the white +towers of the three Casket lighthouses, each on its rock, and all +gleaming in the sunset, rose upon Anna’s heart as well as upon her eye. +To her surprise, she met with sympathy. + +“’Tis not often,” said Stephen, “that I care about storm or calm. Wind +and weather may take their own course for me. But I had a choice for +this evening. I wished for a wind that would bring us here before +sunset, and for a sky that would let the sun shine.” + +“You see those white towers,” said Anna, who perceived that he twinkled +and strained his eyes in that direction. + +“See them! yes, indeed,” said Mrs. Le Brocq. “Those must be stone blind +that do not get dazzled with all that glare. I like Jersey, with the +green ivy hanging from the rock over the sea. I want to be at Jersey, +with my Louise.” + +“All in good time, ma’am,” said Stephen. “We must land somewhere else +first, and find your Aaron. How like ghosts they stand!” he continued, +still looking towards the Caskets. “And one taller than the rest.” + +“You see that too,” said Anna. “Then I am sure you must see Berhou. We +are coming nearer every moment. Hark to the splashing in the Swinge!” + +“Ay, ay; I’ll listen with the best,” said Stephen. “And I can see +something in the Swinge, though the dark island is all one with the sea +to me.” + +“Which dark island? And what do you see in the Swinge?” + +“Berhou has nothing to mark it to my eye. I can just trace out Alderney +against the sky; but the something white that is leaping and gleaming +there, I take to be the foam of the waters in the Swinge. Ah! here we +go!” + +While the vessel pitched and rolled, and took her zigzag course, as if +spontaneously, between the black points of rock which showed themselves +above the white billows, and seemed to tell of a hundred dangers as +formidable as themselves, Anna was sorry for him who, either physically +or intellectually blind, could see nothing in Berhou. Neither man nor +child was visible; no human habitation; no boat upon the strip of beach +which the rocks and the sea spared between them; but the grey gull sat, +spreading its wings for flight, and the stormy petrel, rarely met within +sight of land, were here perceived to lose the mystery of their +existence. While Anna observed them going forth and returning, and +hovering over the fissures of the rock in which they make their homes, +she found that Mother Carey’s chickens are probably hatched from the +egg, like other birds, and not wafted from the moon, or floated from the +sea depths,—the especial favourites of some unseen power. The slopes of +down which showed themselves in the partings of the rocks, looked green +in contrast with whatever surrounded them; though no hand of man +brightened their verdure, and they were not even trodden by any foot but +those of the wild animals who had the region to themselves. While she +was thus gazing, and her mother would look at nothing because it was not +Jersey, the master and one or two of his crew seemed to be watching the +coast of the other island in the intervals of their extreme care to +obviate the perils of the passage through the strait. At this moment, a +breath of air brought the faint sound of chiming bells from Alderney. +Stephen instantly turned to listen, and waited patiently till it came +again, and Anna was sure that it was wafted from a church-steeple, and +not from any region of fancy. + +“Master,” said Stephen, “you will not be able to land us in Alderney +to-night, I am afraid.” + +The master was just going to advise the party to proceed to Guernsey. +The state of the tide was such that he could not engage to set any one +on shore in Alderney. The party had better go on to Guernsey. + +“The vraicking season begins to-morrow, master. You have no mind to lose +all your passengers that might like to stay and see the vraicking. Well; +that is fair enough. But we cannot go on to Guernsey, having no call +there. You may set us ashore on Berhou.” + +The master supposed he meant some other place. The honey-bees and the +rabbits might make out a good night’s rest in Berhou, but there were no +lodgings for Christians. Stephen knew better; and knew, moreover, that +the master might feel well enough pleased at being spared performing his +promise as to Alderney, to land the party, without objection, in a more +practicable place. This was true. The master had not the least objection +to their supping with the rabbits, and sleeping among the sea-fowl, if +they chose. Moreover, if they found themselves starving by the time he +came back that way, he would toss them some biscuit, if they would only +hoist a flag of distress. Stephen did not care a whit for the master’s +mockery of his plans, or for Mrs. Le Brocq’s complaints at being landed +any where so far from her Louise. He showed so much respect to Anna’s +doubtful looks and words as to assure her that he knew what he was +about, and that no delay would arise from his choice of an uninhabited +island for a temporary resting place. Anna had no choice but to trust +him; but a feeling of forlornness came over her when, having landed the +old lady, and seated her on the sands to recover her breath and dry her +tears, she and Stephen stood to see the vessel recede in the strait, and +at length enter the open sea beyond, leaving them out of reach of human +voice and help. + +“Could that bell be heard here from Alderney if the sea was quiet?” she +asked. + +“I dare say it might; but this sea is never quiet,” he replied. “Day and +night, summer and winter, it plunges and boils as you see. You are +thinking that the sound of a church-bell would be cheering in this +solitude; but yonder bell keeps its music for the folks on its own +island; and a merry set they will be to-night on the south side, +watching the tide going down towards morning, that they may begin the +vraicking.” + +“And what are we to do next?” asked Anna, with a touch of the doleful in +her voice which seemed to amuse Stephen. + +“Catch Mother Carey’s chickens, and run after rabbits, to be sure. You +know there is nothing else to live upon here. We shall have a merry life +of it, shall not we?” + +“I wish you would answer me, Stephen. My mother cannot bear joking. What +are we to do next?” + +“You must watch for the lighting of the Caskets, and eat a biscuit in +the meantime.” + +It was a comfort that some biscuits were secured; for Mrs. Le Brocq was +never wholly miserable while eating, whatever she might be before and +after. The sun was fast sinking behind the Caskets, so that it could not +be long before their now dark towers would be crowned with a yellow +gleam, and more of Stephen’s little plot would be unravelled. Anna +suggested that if they had to go any where to look for a boat or a +lodging, it would be better to move before twilight came on. She +concluded they were not to sit here on a stone all night, looking at +Alderney. Stephen begged pardon. He knew every step of the way so well +that he had forgotten how much more important daylight was to his +companions than to him. He rose from the vetch-strewn sand where he had +laid himself at ease, loaded himself with what he could conveniently +carry of the family luggage, saying that the rest might remain where it +was, as there was no chance of rain before morning, and set forward over +the heathery waste. + +This was the first ground the party had trodden since they left London; +and even Mrs. Le Brocq observed the difference between Lambeth pavement +and the turf on which they were now walking, matted with fragrant heath, +with patches between of blossoming thyme. Little white-tailed rabbits +trotted in all directions to their burrows; and swarms of the celebrated +honey-bee (called the leaf-cutter, from its hanging its cell in the +sands with rose-leaf curtains) hovered and hummed over the thyme-beds +and the briar-rose bush which was now closing its blossoms from the +honey-searcher. The dash and roar of the strait were left behind, and +the deepest silence succeeded. None of the party spoke while they +proceeded with noiseless steps, Stephen leading the way, with his staff +for his protection. He would go first and alone, lest he should lose his +way by relaxing his attention. At last, his step slackened, and he felt +the ground about him. + +“Is there a bit of grey rock hereabouts, like a sofa?” + +“There is a stone seat that you might fancy like a sofa, twelve yards +from your right hand.” + +“Give me your arm round to the other side of it. There! now there is a +path downwards, almost from your feet, is not there?” + +“Yes; a very steep path,—difficult to get down, I should think. The +honeysuckles are like a hedge on either side. You smell the +honeysuckles?” + +“It was the honeysuckles that guided me, after we had half crossed the +heath. You were too busy with the thyme to attend to them, I dare say; +but the honeysuckles were what I was on the look-out for. If we have to +go to Serk, you will find the air as sweet as Paradise with them.” + +“Why should we go to Serk?” + +“I may be able to tell you within an hour or two, or we may have to wait +till morning. In the last case, I know of a snug cave where we will +light a fire with a little of yonder furze; and it will be odd if we do +not fall in with something good to eat and drink, and something soft to +sleep upon.” + +“I sleep in a cave!” exclaimed Mrs. Le Brocq. “I cannot do any such +thing. I never slept in a cave in my life.” + +“If you see any place that you like better, I am sure I am very glad,” +replied Stephen. “Yonder sofa would not be a bad place on a soft +summer’s night. Only, a brood of Mother Carey’s chickens might chance to +flap their wings about you and startle you; or, if you woke, you might +happen to find yourself in the middle of a circle of strangers, all +smoking their pipes; and then you might wish yourself down with me in +the cave. If you look round, ma’am, you will see no blue roofs in all +the island,—unless they have altered it since I knew it.” + +Mrs. Le Brocq shuddered as she said that it was too dark to see blue +roofs or any thing else. + +“And there are the Casket lights,” cried Anna. “Only two! yes; there is +the third. Look, mother! like three red stars.” + +“Now,” said Stephen, “one of you must be so good as to help me down this +path,—just to the turning.” + +Anna guided him, her mother calling out all the way, that they must not +go far: she did not choose to be left alone. + +While they were for a few minutes out of sight, she had recourse to her +prayers, finding herself in too strong a panic for tears. Those nasty +birds would come and pick out first her eyes and then Anna’s; and then +they two would be more blind than Stephen, and could never get away; and +their bones would lie stark and stiff on the cold ground. Before she had +done praying that she might live to die in her bed, her companions +re-appeared, to save her eyes for the present from the birds. + +When Stephen and Anna had reached the first turn of the winding path, he +desired to know what was to be seen beneath. “Scarcely anything,” +replied Anna. “Between the Casket lights and these rocks, there is +nothing but the dark grey sea.” + +“And nothing under these rocks?” + +“Only a little patch of sand, with nothing upon it; and the white birds +sailing out and in. Not a boat on the sea, nor a living person on the +land! What a place to bring us to, Stephen!” + +“Not a living person on the land! Do you suppose there are any dead, +Miss Anna? Do you see any white skeletons among the dark rocks?” + +“The place gives one as horrible an idea as any you can speak,” Anna +replied. “This is a place where a poor wretch may be cast ashore, and +drag himself up out of sea-reach, and mark the sun set thrice while he +is pining with hunger and cannot die, and beholding land far off where +he cannot make himself seen or heard, till all is one dark cloud before +his dying eyes, and his last terrors seize him, and there is no one to +take his hand, and speak the word that would calm his spirit. O, +Stephen, what a place to bring my mother and me to!” + +“Ay, is not it? You are making up your mind to die here, I see. Come; +this is all I have to show you yet. We may go up to the sofa again, and +see whether your mother is dreaming about dead men’s bones, or crying +because she cannot get away.” + +Anna was not disposed to make any answer. She led the way back in +silence, and said no more to her mother than to remind her that +remonstrance was in vain. Nothing could well be more cheerless than the +companionship of the party for the next half hour, while the stars were +piercing the heaven, and the sea-birds dropping into the caverns below, +and the night breeze going forth on its course, and whispering the rocks +which stood as sentries over the restless tide. Mrs. Le Brocq sat bolt +upright on the stone sofa; Stephen lay down on the turf, as if to sleep; +and Anna walked backwards and forwards, harassed by uneasy thoughts. At +the same instant, she stopped in her pacing, and Stephen half raised his +head, as a watch-dog does at any sound brought by the night wind. + +“What is it?” asked Anna. + +Probably her half-breathed question did not reach Stephen; for he +yawned, and laid himself down as before. Anna could only suppose that +she had heard nothing. There was no use in asking her mother; for she +must doubtless be fully occupied with the noise in her head, of which +she complained at all times, and especially when under any sort of +agitation. + +In ten minutes more, Stephen jumped up, saying briskly, + +“Now, Miss Anna, I must trouble you once more.” + +“To do what, Mr. Stephen?” + +“To prevent my being lost in the honeysuckles, that is all.” + +With some unwillingness, Anna again made herself his guide down the +path. When she reached the turn, she stifled an exclamation of +astonishment. + +“Out with it, Miss Anna!” said Stephen. “You see none but friends. What +are they doing below?” + +“They have set up a boat sideways, to prevent the fire being blown out; +or, perhaps, to hinder its being seen from the sea. What a fire they are +making! and every man has his pipe.” + +“As is fitting for those that help so many to a pipe which they could +not otherwise get. How many are there? Do you see any face that you +know?” + +“I can scarcely tell yet. The light flickers so! One—two—there are five, +I think. O, Stephen!—it never can be,—yes, it is,—Mr. Prince, the +shopkeeper at St. Peter’s, that—” + +“Why should not it be Mr. Prince? The shopkeepers are as likely a set of +men to be out on a vraicking eve as any. Is he the only one you know?” + +“Yes. I see all their faces now. There is no other that I have ever +known, I think. How very odd it is to see Mr. Prince look just as he +used to do when he stood smiling behind his own counter!” + +“He smiles, does he? Well; I hope you ladies will not be afraid to trust +yourselves with Mr. Prince; I have no doubt he will be proud to take +care of you back.” + +“To St. Peter’s! But we do not want to go to St. Peter’s. Stephen, I +believe we shall never make you understand how much we wish to get back +to Jersey. I wonder you can trifle with us so.” + +“Have patience,” said Stephen. “You well know that there is one thing +that you desire even more than to get back to Jersey.” + +“About Aaron. There he is! behind the boat!” cried she, passing Stephen, +and flying down the steep pathway, as if she had thought it possible for +Aaron now to escape her by running into the sea. Aaron had no wish to +flee away. Before his sister had made her way through his companions, he +had opened his arms to her; and he had no less pleasure in the meeting +than herself. + +He was all surprise at finding Anna apparently alone on a desert island; +and she that he was not expecting her. He knew that his family meant +soon to return to their farm; but he would as soon have expected to meet +the queen of England in the wilds of Berhou as his sister Anna. + +His mother there too!—And his father also? he inquired with an altered +voice. His father not being of the party, he became extremely impatient +to join his mother. + +“That is the way by which I came down,” Anna explained. “There,—by +yonder little opening. Let me show you. And poor Stephen: I forgot him;— +he is there; and he can neither get up nor down by himself, and I left +him alone. O, Aaron, how could you go away as you did?” And all the way +up the ascent, Aaron had to justify himself for going away as he did. He +scarcely paused a moment to greet Stephen; but ran on to find Mrs. Le +Brocq. When the first tears and exclamations were over, the question was +heard again, + +“Aaron, how could you go away as you did?” + +“Why, mother, is not being here much better than drudging on the +tread-wheel, or even than doing nothing in a prison? I tell you, mother, +if you did but know the pleasant sort of life I have been leading +lately——Well; if that won’t do, let me tell you that it makes me so +merry to see you and Anna standing here,—so free, and so far out of the +reach of such fellows as Studley,—that I could find in my heart to whiff +away all laws like the smoke from one of those tobacco-pipes.” + +Anna thought that the use of laws was to enable people to stand free, +and out of the reach of knaves and revengeful men. + +“To be sure, such ought to be the purpose of laws; but is such the +purpose and effect of the excise laws? Nobody knows better than I, and +the other men below there, that the raising money for the state is +necessary for the security and quiet of the people; but if the money is +so raised as to spoil their security and quiet, who is not tempted to +wish the laws at the devil, and let the state take its chance for money? +It is a fine thing for us to be here, at any rate, under this open sky, +and with plenty of meat and drink below. Come, mother; we will have a +good supper to-night, without asking the king’s will about what we shall +have, or paying for his leave to enjoy one thing rather than another. We +have plenty of vraicking cakes from Alderney, and some fine French wine +to drink with them.” + +“O, Mr. Stephen,” cried Mrs. Le Brocq, “we are much obliged to you for +bringing us here. Here is Aaron so free and happy! and vraicking cakes, +and French wine! We are much obliged to you, Mr. Stephen.” + +“Yes, we are indeed,” said Anna, heartily. “I beg your pardon, I am +sure, for doubting what you were doing for us. But it did seem very +forlorn. How well and merry Aaron looks, to be sure! If we were but +certain it was all right!” + +“How can it be wrong when we are all as merry as children let out of +school?” Stephen asked. “I found out your evil thoughts of me, Miss +Anna; but now, perhaps, you will trust me another time. I may chance to +hear more in a church-bell than the news that the vraicking begins +to-morrow.” + +“Was it that bell that told you that Aaron would be here to-night? I +never thought of that. I never could have guessed it.” + +“I dare say not. Some people that have more interest in such matters +than you, are no more aware than you of the sly little markets that are +held in many a cove and cavern, when an oyster-fishing or a vraicking +gives opportunity for many boats to meet together. Such a bell as that +we heard in Alderney is a signal to more ears than it is intended for; +and lights like those” (pointing towards the Caskets) “serve many eyes +for a dial, to show the hour of meeting. Aaron, are there many +foreigners off the islands just now?” + +“Above fifty small sail of French off Guernsey this morning. The +Guernsey folks are fine customers to the French now; which is no little +help to our business. We can get anything to order; and when by chance +other things fail, there is always corn and wine for the boldest of us +to carry; and I, for one, have never had to wait for a port to get them +into.——But come; there will be no supper left if we do not make haste +down. We jumped ashore with fine appetites, and I would not trust any +body with a cooked supper, after such a pull as we have had to-day. +Besides, we have not overmuch time, for we must be off Little Serk +before the first farmer is up and overlooking the sea. We have a private +errand there.” + +“And you are going to leave us—all alone!” exclaimed Mrs. Le Brocq. + +“Not if you wish to go with us, mother. At Little Serk you will be all +the nearer Jersey, you know. We will take good care of you. Come, Anna; +you are not afraid of supping with my partners, are you?” + +“O, no; and yet, if anybody had told me——But they do not look at all +wild and terrible, as I thought people did when they broke the laws.” + +“It depends much on what sort of people break the laws,” observed +Stephen; “and that again depends on what sort of laws they are that are +broken. When it is not the violent and cruel, but such people as thrifty +shop-keepers——” + +“I cannot help laughing,” said Anna, “to think of Mr. Prince. I am sure +nobody could ever dream of being afraid of him. Mother, will you come +down, and speak to Mr. Prince, and have some supper?” + +“And he will tell us the best plan for getting to Jersey, I dare say. I +wonder whether he has been in the way of hearing anything of Louise +lately?” + +The old lady made little difficulty about the descent; and she and her +daughter were presently so far demoralized as to be supping with a +company of smugglers, almost as comfortably as if they had been honest +men. + + + + + CHAPTER VII. + + WELCOME TO SUPPER. + + +The party was off Little Serk, as Aaron willed, before the first farmer +was abroad on the upland to overlook the gleamy sea. Two of the company +had hastened over the heath, while the others were at supper, to bring +the larger packages which had been left behind; and all had put off +beneath the moon some time before midnight. Mr. Prince had found a +little leisure for being civil to his former customers, though he had +much to do, as well as his companions, in stowing in one of the caverns +the goods he had brought from France, and loading the boat with the +packages deposited there by some friendly vraickers and lobster-fishers. + +It was not that in these islands any danger attended traffic of any +kind; except in the one article of spirits which had not paid duty. +There were here no guards patrolling the sands, or perched upon the +steep, to look for thieves in every bark that cleaved the blue expanse, +and anticipate murder when the twilight spread its shadows. There were +here no questionable abodes,—spy-stations,—niched in places convenient +for overlooking the traffic of housewifes with the fishermen who +furnished their tables. Here there were no deadly struggles in the +darkness, the comrade going down in deep waters, with the bitter +consciousness that he was thrown overboard lest his wounds should lead +his companions into danger; or left unclaimed upon the beach, while wife +or parents are secretly mourning, and longing to give the exposed body +the respectful burial which strangers will not yield. No such +extraordinary arrangements deform the simplicity and mar the peace of +the society of these islands; but, while the coasts of France and +England cannot enjoy the same freedom, the islanders are tempted to +share in the frauds and the perils of their neighbours. Not content with +having corn, wine, and tobacco at their natural cost of production and +carriage, they are willing to help others to the same privilege; and +will continue to be so willing as long as, by their office of +go-between, they can make a profit by the bad legislation of the two +kingdoms within whose embrace they lie. There is no remedy for this but +rectifying the faults of French and English commercial legislation. As +long as taxes are levied by raising the prices of necessary articles so +high as to make smuggling profitable, the island boats will steal along +the shores, or cautiously cross the straits on the dishonest errands of +a mediator between two defrauders; they will land their passengers short +of their point, because they have something besides passengers on board; +they will make a show of lobsters to hide tea and tobacco. To impose +restraints on them, similar to those by which they now profit in pocket +and suffer in morals, would only increase the evil by enlarging the +field of temptation, and adding the demand of the islands to that of the +two neighbouring coasts. There is no remedy but in putting all on an +equality, not of restraint, but of freedom. + +The lord of Serk and his people had not yet opened their eyes on the +morning sunshine, when the boat containing Aaron and his party ran under +the perpendicular rocks of the island, and several voices announced that +they had arrived at their destination. No landing-place was visible; but +the women had by this time become inured to wonders, and resigned to +whatever of romantic might come in their way. They asked no questions, +even when their boat grated against the rock, and moved uneasily in the +ripple without being intended to make any progress. They made no +objection when desired to lay hold of a rope which dangled from a ledge +thirty feet above their heads; and quietly submitted to be hauled up +they knew not whither. Up and down, forward and round-about they went, +now seeing a cask taken up from a store-cavern, now dropping a message +in a lonely cottage; and at last sitting down to repose in a cavern +which was lighted only from a natural opening at the top, upon which the +blue sky seemed to rest as a roof. Here the echoes were already awake +with the blows of the mattock and the grating of the saw. Here +boat-building went on, early and late; for a certain Englishman had +found out how well the islanders are off for timber,—the best of timber, +which pays no duty; and many a good bargain he made by going forth in a +worn-out vessel, and coming home in a boat of Serk workmanship. Aaron +was right in supposing that here he should pick up the means of +conveying his mother and sister home with their heavy wares. Here he +insisted on their resting, after their many fatigues and long watching; +but it was not that he might himself repose. He had still a little trip +to make. + +“My dear, you will be tired to death,” said his mother. “I never knew +you work all night in Jersey.” + +Aaron laughed, and said that people are seldom tired to death when they +work at no bidding but their own: and, as for working at night—— + +“It is a bad practice, Aaron, depend upon it,” said his sister. “Honest +work is done by daylight.” + +“Carry your objections to those who taught me to work at night,” +answered Aaron. “And not me only, but hundreds more. They are but few +who would naturally work when their part of the world is supposed to be +asleep;—the nurse beside the sick-bed, and the watchmen that walk the +streets of cities; the beacon-keeper that trims the lamps in his high +tower, and the helmsman that fixes his eyes upon those lights far out at +sea. All but these are supposed to be at rest when God has set his stars +for night-lamps, and drawn the darkness about us for a curtain: but +there are some who contradict his decree that night is the time for +rest;—and they are such as make harsh and unjust laws.” + +“But for laws,” said Anna, nearly as she had said before, “we might be +subject to the robber by night, and the violent man by day. Without +laws, none of us could lie down and sleep in peace.” + +“Without some wholesome laws: but, if it were not for certain unwise and +cruel laws, thousands more of us would lie down and sleep in peace. Ask +the country justice in England, whose business it is to enforce the +laws, how often it happens that labourers who cannot get work during the +day because their superiors have a monopoly of bread, toil unlawfully +all the night because their superiors have a monopoly of game. He may +dispute the wickedness; but he will not deny what comes of digging +pitfalls for men, lest they should set springes for birds. Ask,—(nobody +could have told better than poor Durell)—ask any exciseman what time is +chosen by certain traders for their traffic, and makers for their work; +and he will tell you of the burning, and the boiling, and the +distilling, and the packing and removing that take place by night. He +will tell you that the noblest works that men can do, and that they +ought to do proudly in the daylight, are done by night, because the law +has fixed a sin and a shame upon them. To make improvements in human +comfort is turned into a sin and shame, when those improvements are made +too expensive by a tax; therefore they are tried by night. The exchange +of the fruits of men’s labour is made a sin and a shame, when a tax +comes in to make such an exchange unprofitable: therefore it is done by +night. These innocent things being made a sin and a shame is the reason +why tax-gatherers prowl about, like so many robbers, when the sun is +down; and why the better men whom they entrap are carried to prison in +the morning, to come out blasted and desperate, as if they had committed +a crime against God’s majesty instead of against the king’s treasury.” + +Mrs. Le Brocq stared in astonishment at her son. With a little +hesitation, she asked him whether he had not adopted a new vocation, and +turned preacher. The kindness of his manner to her, and the eloquence of +his speech, concurred to impress her with the idea. He smiled as he +answered, that there would be no lack of preachers or of eloquence upon +this subject, if every one who had suffered were allowed to bear +witness. A voice would rise up from all the land, and go forth over the +sea, if every Briton who is injured by the mode in which he is obliged +to pay his contribution to the state, might speak his mind. + +But still,—Aaron talked so differently from what he used to do,—so +freely,—so cleverly. + +“There is all the difference in the world, mother, between——But I do not +wish to say anything disrespectful of my father: so I will only mention +that the reason why it is found to be prudent for governments to allow +people to speak out, is because nothing makes men more eloquent than a +sense of wrong; and the stronger the eloquence that is suppressed, the +more doggedly will the sense of wrong show itself in some other way. A +whole nation can mutter and be sullen, as I used to be; and its +muttering and sullenness may prove of more importance than mine. Now I +have got an occupation of my own, and am under nobody’s management, I +could preach (as you would say) very strongly both to parents and +governments about not being spies and meddlers,—that is to say,” +(recollecting his father) “about not interfering more than is pleasant +with the doings of their children and subjects. To make wise and +merciful general laws, and then leave the will and actions free in +particular instances, is the only true policy,—the only kind of +government which is not in its nature tyranny.” + +“But how do you apply that to the paying of taxes?” inquired Stephen. +“How is the state to raise money on such a plan of government?” + +“Far more easily than in any other way, in my opinion. Under a general +rule that property is to pay such or such a proportion of tax, there is +the least possible room for partiality and oppression; for the +derangement of people’s affairs, and interference with people’s actions. +There is an open and honest calling to account, at times that are fixed, +in a manner that is established, and for purposes that are well +understood: while, by meddling as excisemen and custom-house officers +meddle, the king is defrauded of the affections of his people; the state +is wronged in purse and reputation; and its agents are made masters to +teach multitudes a livelihood which need never have been heard of. Which +of us would naturally have dreamed of living by defrauding the +government, for whose protection we were ready to pay our share?” + +“Then you will not go on as you have been doing lately,” said Anna. “You +will go home with us, and serve the government as you yourself think the +government ought to be served.” + +“I will see you home, and do my father’s errand at the custom-house,” +replied Aaron. “The States shall never have cause to complain of me, as +long as they go on to take our taxes as they do now. As for cheating +them, I could not if I would: and I am sure I have no desire to do it +while they treat me like a man, and ask no more from me than is due from +a subject.” + +“I am sure I hope they will go on to do so.” + +“You may well wish it. If ever they begin meddling with your cider or +soap-making, or setting spies upon me when I buy tobacco or hemp, I +shall be off to some country,—Turkey may be,—where taxes are demanded +and not filched.” + +“Turkey! I thought that was a horrible country to live in.” + +“So you would find it in many respects; but it is wise and free in its +mode of taxation; and the effects of this one kind of wisdom and freedom +on the happiness of the people, our neighbours on the north and south +would do prudently to study and admit. However, yonder lies Jersey; as +good a place as Turkey in this respect, and better in many others; so I +have no present wish to sail eastwards.” + +It seemed to Mrs. Le Brocq this afternoon that nothing more was +necessary to happiness than to be sailing southwards, with Aaron +trimming the sail, Anna looking as tranquil as if she had never been in +an excise court or a prison, and the beloved island rising on the sight, +in which was Louise, probably with a pretty baby in her arms;—a pretty +baby, of course, as every thing belonging to Louise must be pretty. How +cheerful looked that picturesque coast from Grosnez to Rozel, as +promontory after promontory came into view, tapestried with verdure, or +crested with cairns or church towers, and casting each its dark shadow +to hide its eastern cove from the declining sun! How busy were those +coves to-day! how unlike their usual solitude and stillness! At almost +every other time, it was a wonder to see more than a solitary loiterer +on the narrow path whose precarious line circled the rocks, and +penetrated the bays, now winding up to the steep, now dipping to the +margin of the water; and, as for the yellow sands, they were left +printless from tide to tide while the islanders were busy about their +farmsteads. But now, all was as animated as if the land was joyful at +the Le Brocqs’ return. Carts were standing in the water to receive the +vraic; and the red-capped boy who rode the horse, or the white-sleeved +man who wielded his rake in the vehicle, looked bright in the evening +sunshine. Here and there, a horse might be seen swimming home from a +distant mass of rock, guided by a youth or maiden mounted on the heaped +panniers. Boats were plying from point to point; and on every ledge +where marine vegetation could be supposed to flourish without danger of +molestation, children might be seen tugging at the tenacious weed, while +their fathers did more effectual execution with their scythes. There was +not an exposed place all along this coast where the lobsters could +safely come up this day to sun themselves; and when the infant crabs +should next propose to play hide-and-seek in what was to them a sort of +marine jungle, they would find their moist retreat stripped and bare, +and must betake themselves again to the tide. High on the beach might be +seen parties busy at their work, or busier at their recreation,— +spreading and tossing the ooze as if it were hay, or broaching the cider +cask, and distributing the vraicking cakes. Mrs. Le Brocq once nearly +upset the boat, by lifting up her ponderous self with the view of +hailing the mowers on shore;—a feat about as practicable in her case as +shaking hands with one on the top of Coutances cathedral. She was glad +to reseat herself, and be no worse, and try to wait patiently till the +boat should have rounded Archirondel tower, and given her up to tread +one of the green paths from St. Catherine’s bay to the ridge, on the +other side of which was Louise. + +From that ridge might be seen the farm-house, just as was expected. It +did not seem to have lost an ivy-leaf, nor to have gained so much as a +lichen on its pales. The pigeons looked the very same. The fowls +strutted and perched exactly as formerly; and the brook trotted over the +stones as if it had never grown tired all these many months. + +“Who could have thought we had been away?” was Anna’s first exclamation. +Her mother was toiling on too fast to reply; but Aaron gave an +unconscious answer to her thought when he presently overtook them, and +delivered the result of the observation he had lingered on the ridge to +make with his boat glass. + +“Who do you think is in the porch, mother?” + +“Louise!” + +“And who else?—No, not her husband, nor Victorine; but her baby. There +is a bundle on her arm; I am sure it must be her baby. Charles is out +vraicking, no doubt; and Victorine is milking, I see, behind there. Not +so fast, mother, if I may advise. Let me go first. She will be less +surprised to see me; and I think she cannot be strong yet, or she would +have been out vraicking too.” + +It was, in fact, Louise’s first evening out of doors after her +confinement. What an evening it was!—Anna relieving her of all household +cares; her mother overflowing by turns with affecting narrative and +admiration of the infant; Stephen giving a droll turn to every thing; +and no paternal restraint to spoil the whole! It was a pity that night +was near, and that it would come to put a stop to the interesting +questions and answers that abounded. + +“When do you gather your apples, love? I have been thinking we must soon +be setting about your cider.” + +“But, mother, only think of your coming away from London without seeing +the king!” + +“My dear, your father did write to him: so it is not as if we had had +nothing to do with him.” + +“And what was the answer like?” + +“Bless me, Anna! we never thought more of the king’s answer. But, +really, my head was so full of things, I never recollected to send to +inquire at the post-office. However, your father will be more mindful, I +dare say. Well, Louise, I cannot think how you managed with the calf, to +have such a misfortune happen, my dear. I never failed with one all the +time I lived here.” + +“And you say you never so much as tried in Lambeth. I do wonder you did +not manage it, one way or another.” + +“Nobody keeps cows there, love, but the brewers; and then the poor +beasts live on the grains, and seldom taste fresh grass. They flourish, +in a way, too. A great brewer near us had one brought in, intending that +it should have the range of the paved yard, on Sundays, when the gates +were shut: but the creature had fattened on the grains so that when the +people would have let her out, she could not turn in her stall. When +they had thinned her a little, so that she might get exercise, it was +thought that the fumes of the liquor had affected her head, she capered +about so among the casks. But I never heard but what she yielded very +good cream, which you do not always see in London.” + +“I wonder how they get cream at all, if, as you say, there are no cows +but one in each brewery. Perhaps the excise makes the difficulty with +taking some of the cream for the king; as they say the tithing man does +for the parson.” + +Aaron had not heard of an exciseman being yet instructed to thrust +himself between the cow and the milk-pail; but he should not be +surprised any day to hear of its being made part of an excise officer’s +duty to peep in at a dairy lattice, and see what the milk-maids were +about with their skimming dishes. Did not he hear horses’ feet outside? +Could it be Charles? No; Charles was not coming home to-night. What old +friend could it be? And he ran out to see. + +“An old enemy,” the guest expected to be called. It was Janvrin, the +tax-gatherer. Every body was struck with the strangeness of the +circumstance that he should appear on this particular night,—to a party +who had had so much to do with taxes since they had met him last. There +was something much more astonishing to him in the cordiality of his +reception. + +“The last time I saw you all here,” said he, “you certainly wished me at +the Caskets, or somewhere further off still; and now, you are heaping +your good supper upon me, as if I were come to pay money, and not to ask +it.” + +“For our former behaviour,” replied Aaron, “you may call him to +account,”—pointing to Stephen. “You heard him say what taxation was in +England,—just paying a trifle more for articles when they were bought;— +such a mere trifle as not to be perceived. He is not laughing in his +sleeve now as he was when he told that traveller’s tale. It is to our +having taken him at his word, Janvrin, and made trial of English +taxation, that you owe your different reception to-night.” + +Stephen expressed his sorrow that his words had taken so much more +effect than he had intended. He really would try,—he would do his very +best, to avoid telling travellers’ tales for the future. + +“The oddest thing is,” said Janvrin, “that there are some who are no +travellers that tell the very same tale. There are dwellers in England,— +even speakers in her parliament, who ought to know the condition and +interests of the people, who go on to insist that the filching system,— +the taxing of commodities,—is the best way of raising a revenue. The +wonder to me is why the mouths of such men are not stopped,—how such +taxes come to be borne.” + +“Because it is the ignorant who have to bear the worst of the burden,” +Stephen thought. “The payment is made unconsciously by those who pay in +the long run. The trader feels the grievance at first, and makes an +outcry; but when the time comes for him to repay himself out of his +customers’ pockets, he drops his cry, and nobody takes it up. It saves +some people much trouble that all should be hush. But the time cannot be +far off when honest men will be set to inquire, and then——” + +“And what then?” + +“They will report that the truest kindness to the people will be rather +to preserve the worst direct tax, be it what it may, that was ever +devised, than to go on taxing glass and soap, and many other things +nearly as necessary.” + +“If the people are so little aware as you say, I am afraid that day is a +long way off.” + +“I think it is near at hand; and for this reason; that there has been a +beginning made with the excise taxes. The government has set free +candles, beer, cider and perry, hides and printed goods. What should +hinder their going on to glass and soap, now that the mischief begins to +be understood?” + +“Especially,” said Janvrin, “when they find what it is to have fewer +officers to pay, and smaller regiments of spies to provide for, and less +trouble in delivering money backwards and forwards, as they have to do +now with drawbacks and import duties, and all such troublesome things. +It is a pity they should not come here, and see what it is to have +houses made of free bricks, and filled with furniture made of untaxed +wood, and cleaned with home-made soap, andbut I need not tell the +present company what it is to live in Jersey, before or after living in +England. The English may have heard a little of our meadows, our cattle, +and our fruits, the like to which they cannot make in a season, at their +will; but they can hardly have heard much of our taxation, or else they +would come and live here by thousands;—or rather, mend their own plans +so as not to be beaten by us in butter-selling in their own markets,—not +to be obliged to us for helping them underhand with such corn and oil +and wine as we do not want,—not to reflect with shame that we have in +proportion five newspapers to their one, and one tax-gatherer to their +ten.” + +“The comptroller at St. Heliers might well advise me not to go to +England,” said Aaron. “He knew well what he meant in saying it. I shall +tell him so to-morrow; and the more because I was inclined to take it +ill at the time?” + +“Saying, I suppose, ‘What’s that to you?’ Hey, Mr. Aaron?” + +“Just so. I have had my answer, I assure you. I hope he knows as well +how different his office is from that of an English custom-house +officer. When he has done his search about wine and spirits, he may put +his hands in his pocket and amuse himself. I well remember his doing so, +of old. In England, there is not a package that comes on shore that is +not suspected; and scarcely a thing that is brought over to be sold for +touch or taste, that is not taxed or to be taxed.” + +“That is going too far for any body’s interest. If the English would +have no customs for protection, but only for revenue, they would +presently find out what would bear customs duty without doing harm to +any or all. They would tax outwards only what their country produced so +much better than other countries that others would go on to buy, +notwithstanding the tax; and inwards nothing at all. When China taxes +her own tea, and Russia her own tallow, timber, and hides, and England +her own iron and slates, and each country, in like manner, its own best +produce, and nobody’s else, the curse of the customs will cease from off +the earth.” + +“Meantime, if the duties were proportioned to the natural prices of +articles, and made to fall with the price, instead of rising——” + +“Some of our islanders must change their occupation; or fish lobsters in +earnest instead of pretence. Then there would be an end of the crowning +curse of smuggling.” + +Aaron and Stephen made no answer,—the one applying himself once more to +his plate, and the other pressing the tax-gatherer again to eat. An +interval was left for Louise to repeat to him, while Victorine stood +open-mouthed to hear, some of the wonders of life in Lambeth;—the +nonexistence of cows, the dearth of baked pears and vraic, and the +actual presence of a river in which nobody thought of washing clothes. +This reminded Victorine to make haste and put away every stray article +of apparel before Stephen retired to rest. + + + CHAPTER VIII. + + A WANDERER STILL. + + +“My mother is still asleep, I suppose,” said Aaron, the next morning, +when followed by Anna as he was going forth. “I do not wonder; for I was +drowsy enough to have slept on till noon, if I had not had this errand +of my father’s to do at the Custom-house. I will take care that the +certificate gets to his hands; and then you will soon see him. You shall +have news of the pottery from time to time, Anna. Farewell.” + +“What do you mean, Aaron? Now, do answer me. Are you not coming back?” + +“O, yes; I shall look in upon you now and then at odd times. I may +chance to enter when you are all asleep, or to drop in for a basin of +soup on a winter day. You do not want me, you know. The rope-walk is +Malet’s; and my father will take care of the farm.” + +“No, no, Aaron. Nothing will prosper with us if you go out again with +those law-breakers on the sea. We shall never be happy if you live by +breaking the laws. God will never prosper us.” + +“How can you say that, Anna, when I have prospered already as I never +thought to prosper? The worst that can happen to me is to have my +tobacco seized now and then. I assure you that is all; for I am only a +trader. It is no part of my business to meet the coast-guard, and get +murdered. They can only seize my goods; and that signifies little with +tobacco, which costs me next to nothing, and brings me a fine profit +from England, though I sell it far below the legal price there. Such a +loss now and then is no punishment compared with the having spies set +upon my honest business, as I had in London.” + +“I thought that when we came back here, all would be right,” said his +weeping sister. + +“And so it is. I am getting rich; and I love the sea and the freedom I +have upon it. You ought to be glad that I have found a way of life that +I like, and left one that I hated.” + +Anna only shook her head and wept the more; and then Stephen came +groping out; and, guided by Aaron’s voice, approached also to say +farewell. + +“O, do not go yet,” cried she to Aaron. “When will you come back? When +will your conscience be touched about your way of life, about living by +cheating the state?” + +“Whenever the state shows a little more regard to the consciences of the +king’s subjects than it does now. What I do, I have been taught; and you +know how, Anna. I shall come back to live by the land whenever they cut +off my living by sea. Whenever the English un-tax corn and wine and +tobacco, I shall come and be a Jersey farmer, and you shall milk my +cows, unless——” + +Stephen seized the occasion for a joke about the brown maidens of +France, into whose company Aaron’s wild occupations sometimes brought +him, and about the damsels of the neighbouring islets, who had learned +to know the stroke of his oar from all others, as soon as its flash +could be seen in the sunshine. Aaron laughed; and laughing, bade his +sister again farewell. + +She could not even smile. Little did she once think that it could ever +make her sad to see Aaron merry; but as little did she then suppose that +Aaron would ever live by a lawless occupation. Sadly did she watch him, +leading away his companion till both were quite out of sight; and +disconsolately did she then sit down in the porch, and grieve over the +temptation which drew her brother away from the blossoming valley where +his days might have proceeded, as they had begun, in innocence and +plenty. + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + ILLUSTRATIONS + + OF + + _TAXATION._ + + + --------------------- + + + No. V. + + THE + SCHOLARS OF ARNESIDE. + + =A Tale.= + + BY + + HARRIET MARTINEAU. + + + --------------------- + + + + + LONDON: + CHARLES FOX, 67, PATERNOSTER-ROW. + + --- + + 831. + + + + + LONDON: + PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES, + Duke Street, Lambeth. + + + + + THE + SCHOLARS OF ARNESIDE. + + =A Tale.= + + BY + + HARRIET MARTINEAU. + + + --------------------- + + + + + LONDON: + CHARLES FOX, 67, PATERNOSTER-ROW. + + --- + + 834. + + + + + PREFACE. + + +In treating of some of our methods of Taxation, it has been my object to +show that they are unjust, odious and unprofitable, to a degree which +could never be experienced under a system of simple, direct taxation. +Believing that such a system must be finally and generally adopted, I +have endeavoured to do the little in my power towards preparing and +stimulating the public mind to make the demand. + +If I had consulted my own convenience, and the value of my little books +as literary productions, I should have written less rapidly than I have +done. My conviction was and is, that the best means of satisfying the +interest of my readers on such a subject as I had chosen, was to publish +monthly. I am now about to compensate for my much speaking by a long +silence. It costs me some pain to say this: but the great privilege of +human life,—that of looking forward, is for ever at hand for stimulus +and solace; and I already pass over the few years of preparation, and +contemplate the time when, better qualified for their service, I may +greet my readers again. + + H. M. + +_July 1st, 1834._ + + CONTENTS. + + CHAP. PAGE + 1. The Mysteries of Wisdom 1 + 2. Maternal Anticipations 15 + 3. Lessons on the Hills 29 + 4. Signs in the Sky 42 + 5. Owen and X. Y. Z. 58 + 6. Press and Post-Office 73 + 7. The Policy of M.Ps. 96 + 8. Family Secrets 117 + 9. The Mysteries laid open 122 + + + + + THE + SCHOLARS OF ARNESIDE. + + + + + CHAPTER I. + + THE MYSTERIES OF WISDOM. + + +“Come, my maiden: come and tell me. You know what it is I like to hear +of a Sunday evening,” said Nurse Ede to her little girl. Nurse was +sitting with her hands before her, beside the old round table from which +she had cleared away the supper. As it was Sunday evening, she could not +work; and nurse had never been taught to read. Little Mildred was +standing on the door-sill, watching Owen and Ambrose who were engaged +outside. As she turned in at her mother’s summons, she said she thought +it rained; which the sheep would be glad of to-morrow. + +Mrs. Ede went to the door to call in her boys, lest Owen’s best jacket +should suffer by the rain. + +“Bless the lads!” cried she. “What are they sprawling on the ground in +that manner for?” + +“Watching the ants home,” Mildred explained. “There are more ants than +ever, mother: all in a line. Ambrose found where they went to at one +end; and now he is looking for the other nest. They are running as fast +as ever they can go.” + +“Though ’tis Sunday,” observed nurse. “Well! ’tis not every body that +Sunday is given to: and it is no rule, my dear, because the ants run as +fast as ever they can go, that you should not walk quietly to school and +to church, as the Lord bids. Come in, my dears, and leave the ants to go +to their beds. It is coming up for rain, and mizzles somewhat already. +Come in, and tell me about school this morning. I had not the luck to be +at a school in my day,” she went on to say, while the boys followed her +in, and brushed the dust from each other’s elbows and knees. “I had +nothing to tell my poor father of a Sunday evening, of what I had +learned. So let me hear now. I am sure you were steady children this +morning.” + +On the occasion of Sunday evening, the children were indulged with the +use of the fine, large footstool, which the late Mrs. Arruther had +worked with her own hands as a wedding present for nurse’s mother. When +infants, it had been their weekly privilege to show their mother which +of the embroidered flowers was a rose, and which a heart’s-ease, and +which a tulip; and now that they were somewhat too old to confound the +rose and the tulip, they took it in turn to sit on the stool at their +mother’s knee, while they imparted their little learning to her who +meekly received from her own children some scraps of knowledge which she +had been denied the opportunity of gaining during her own young days. + +“I warrant I know what set ye to look after the ants,” said she. “There +is a bit about the ants in the bible that I have heard read in church. +Which of ye can read it to me, I wonder?” + +Ambrose looked at Owen, and Owen looked doubtfully at the large old +bible which Mildred reverently brought down from the shelf, at a glance +from her mother. Owen did not know where, in all that great book, to +look for the bit about the ant. While he was turning over the leaves, +stopping to consider every great A he came to, Mildred wanted to know +whether it was an ant that had tickled her face at church this morning, +and hung from her hair by a thread smaller than she could see. + +It was of the nature of an ant, her mother thought. It had much the make +of an ant: but it was called a money-spinner. + +“Does it spin money?” asked Mildred quickly. + +“O yes. My father used to tell me it would spin penny pieces from the +ground up as high as our thatch.” + +“And as high as the mill, perhaps?” + +“I dare say. But my father did not tell me that, by reason of the mill +not being built in his time.” + +“I wish I had not put the money-spinner away,” said Mildred, +thoughtfully. “I wish I could get another.” + +“Perhaps one will be sent to you one of these days, if you be a steady +girl. And you will get penny pieces, and perhaps silver as you grow +bigger, if you look to the sheep as your master would have you. Now, +boys: have you found about the ant?” + +No. They had found “Adam” near the beginning, and had got past “Aaron,” +and found that “Abimelech” was too long a word to be the one they +wanted. The “Ands” abounded so as to tantalize and perplex them +exceedingly; and when Owen recollected that “ant” might begin with a +small “a,” both came to a full stop. Their mother was kind enough, +however, to say that another part of the bible would do as well. They +might read her the piece they had read in school in the morning. + +Owen began. He did his best; never looking off the book, or sparing +himself the trouble of spelling every word that he did not know: but his +mother gained little by what he read. He mixed his spelling with his +reading so completely, and varied his tone so little, not knowing that +he should render the stops as evident to his mother’s ear as they were +to his eye, that she could make nothing of the sense. The passage was +about some priests carrying the ark over Jordan; and this was a puzzle +to her. Her principal idea about Jordan was that almonds came thence; +and she now therefore learned for the first time that almonds came like +fish out of the water: and how the ark, which she knew had carried Noah +and his family, and a pair of every living creature in the world, should +itself be carried on the shoulders of a few clergymen, was what she +could not clearly comprehend. It happened that Owen had been told that +there were two arks, and the difference between them; but he did not +remember to explain this: so his mother, who would not for the world +wonder at anything that could be found in the bible, supposed that it +was all right, sighed to think that her poor husband had not lived to +witness his eldest boy’s learning, and then smiled at Ambrose when it +became his turn to try. + +Ambrose was in the class below Owen. At present, he could read only by +spelling every word. While he was about it, Mildred’s eyes and attention +wandered. The rain was now pattering against the lattice, and dripping +from the thatch in little streams, which a ray from the parting clouds +in the west made to glitter like silver. Then the light grew almost into +sunshine on the wall of the room, and on the shelf where nurse laid up +the apparatus of her art. Mrs. Ede was employed by her few opulent +neighbours as a nurse only; but she was regarded as also a doctor by the +poor residents in the village of Arneside. She held herself in +readiness, not only to nurse them, night or day, when they were ill, but +to administer to them from the phials and bottles of red, yellow, and +black liquids which stood on her shelf. These medicines now shone in the +western light so brilliantly as to catch her little daughter’s eye; and, +while looking, Mildred observed two or three new articles of a strange +construction which lay upon the shelf, or hung against the wall. She +could not wait till Ambrose had done reading to ask what they were; and +she was answered as she might have known she would be,—by a mysterious +look, and a finger laid upon the lips. It was not only that Ambrose was +reading, but that it was utterly in vain to question Mrs. Ede about the +circumstances of her art. Whether she was persuaded that knowledge as to +her means would destroy faith in her practice, or that she wished to +preserve a becoming degree of awe in her little ones by mystery in the +one matter in which she was wiser than they,—it so happened that they +had never enticed her into the slightest confidence respecting the +furniture of the south wall of her room. When Ambrose brought in the +roots he had been directed to procure on the heath, the basket and rusty +knife were gravely delivered up, and received without a smile, and with +only a word of inquiry as to whether the roots had grown on a moonshiny +or shady piece of turf; and whether the dew was off or on when they were +dug up. Sometimes, when she was believed to be gone out for the day, one +little sinner placed a stool for another to climb, that the mysteries +might be handled and smelled as well as looked at. Tasting was out of +the question, so dreadful were the stories which they had heard of +little people who had fallen down dead with the mere drawing of a +forbidden cork. Once, also, nurse returned unexpectedly when Owen had +come in from the mill, and Mildred from the moor, and they were trying +experiments with the longest of her bandages; Owen in a corner, holding +one end, and his sister at the opposite corner, turning herself round +and round to see how many times the long strip would fold about her +body. What she heard said by way of warning to Ambrose, when the +exposure was made to him, might have taught her the uselessness of +questions: but she forgot the incident of the bandage when she this +evening offended again by her curiosity. She did what she could to +profit by Ambrose’s reading, rocking herself and crossing her arms in +imitation of her mother; but her eyes would still turn upon the shelf, +and her heart could not help envying the kitten which had made a daring +leap up, and was now thrusting in its nose, and making a faint jingle +among the sacred vessels. + +“This is what you should attend to, my dear,” nurse explained, laying +her hand upon the bible, when the boy was at length taking breath after +his task. “The Lord gave the bible for little girls to understand; and +they should not ask what it is not proper for them to know.” + +“How are we to find out what it is proper for us to know?” asked Owen. + +His mother told him that there would always be somebody at hand to tell +him;—either Mr. Waugh, or the parson, or herself. She would do her best, +she was sure. + +“I shall not ask Mrs. Arruther, I can tell her,” observed Owen. “She +never lets Mr. Waugh alone about the Sunday school; and she has done all +she can to set the parson against it.” + +“She is very strong in her mind against that school, indeed, Owen; and +many’s the time when she has been sharp with me for letting you learn, +having herself a bad opinion of learning for such as we are. And often +enough I have been uneasy about what I ought to do: but, having great +confidence in Mr. Waugh, and having always heard my poor father and +others say that a little learning is a fine thing for those that can get +it, I hoped I was not out of my duty when I let you go to the school, as +Mr. Waugh desired. And I hope Ambrose and Mildred are both very thankful +for being allowed to go, as well as you, though not belonging to the +paper-mill, and able only to take their schooling every other week, when +it is not their turn with the sheep.” + +“Ambrose can’t keep up in the class though, as if he went every Sunday, +like the other boys.” + +“The more reason for his making the best of his time when he is there. +Only think, Ambrose, what it would have been for you to be out on the +hills every Sunday, away from the church, and no more able to read your +bible than I am. I trust, my dear, that you will be as well able as +Owen, though not perhaps so soon, (but you will have time before you to +go on learning when he is done,) to read a chapter to me when I grow +old, and maybe not able to hear the clergyman in church. But you must +none of you be bent upon learning more than it is proper for you to +know, lest you should bring me to think that Mrs. Arruther has been +right all the time, and that I have been doing harm when I was most +anxious for your good. Why can’t my little maiden,” she went on to say, +“play with the kitten, or look out at the door, as well as be for ever +glancing up at that shelf?” + +Mildred lost no time in availing herself of this permission to play. +Puss had disappeared; but when called, she showed herself through a hole +in the crazy wall of the cottage, and jumped upon Mildred all the way as +she went to the door. + +“Me! where are all the clouds gone?” exclaimed Mildred, shading her eyes +with her hand, and looking up into the sky. “’Twas right black when you +called me in; and now it is all blue. There’s not a cloud.” + +“They are all fetched up above the sky, my dear, to make a fine Sunday +evening.” + +“I doubt whether the sheep will like it altogether as we do,” observed +Ambrose. “There is a mist on their walk yonder; and it is my belief +their coats are heavy with wet at this very time.” + +Ambrose was very consequential about sheep, there being no one at home +to contradict anything he might say about creatures that he had more to +do with than either mother or brother. All that could be done was to +question whether it signified to the sheep whether they were more in a +mist on a Saturday or a Sunday evening. If it made no difference to +them, and they were hidden and out of sight, it remained a fine Sunday +evening to people below; and that was enough to be thankful for. + +While the whole party was gazing with shaded eyes towards the upland +which was enveloped with a white cloud, through whose folds neither +beast nor man could at present be discerned, somebody seized little +Mildred by the shoulders from behind. Of course, being startled, she +screamed. + +“Dear me, Ryan, is it you?” exclaimed nurse to the old man who had +approached unawares. “And all dripping with the rain,—your sack and all— +and we have no fire! But I will get one presently. Boys, bring in some +furze from the shed; and Mildred, strike a light. Don’t think of +standing in your wet clothes, neighbour. But who would have expected to +see you travelling with your sack on a Sunday?” + +Ryan would not be blamed for making a push to see an old friend. He had +a mind for an hour’s chat with nurse Ede, if she would let him dry his +sack, and lay his head upon it, in any corner of her cottage. As for the +hour’s chat, nurse was quite willing; and Ryan was welcome to +house-room: but she was engaged, she was sorry to say, to sit up with +Mrs. Arruther to-night. She had promised to be at the Hall by nine +o’clock. No time was lost. The fierce heat of the burning furze soon +made Ryan as dry and warm as on any summer’s noon, and quite ready for +chat and bread and eggs. + +“So the poor old lady is ill, is she?” said he. “What, is she very bad?” + +“Very bad. With all the trying, there is no getting down to the wound; +and she is sadly afflicted with spasms in the blood that make her heart +turn round till I sometimes doubt whether it will ever come right again. +She has awful nights.” + +“If all be true that is said,” declared Ryan, “there is enough happening +to bend her heart till it breaks.” + +How? What? Who was doing any harm to Mrs. Arruther?—There was no use in +the children’s asking and listening. This was one of the pieces of +knowledge not meant for them. They could find out no more than that the +news related to Mr. Arruther, the lady’s son, and the member for a small +borough in the district; and that the gentleman had done something very +wicked. What was his crime could not be discovered. Whether he had +overlooked seams in sorting rags, or let a lamb stray, or torn his +clothes in the briers, and forgotten to mend them, or played with the +hassock at church, must be ascertained hereafter: but some one of these +offences it must be, as the children had heard of no others. + +“And what is your news, Ryan?” asked his hostess in her turn. “Sure you +must have some, so far as you travel this way and that?” + +“Ay; I have news. I have news plenty; such as you have hardly chanced to +hear in your day, I fancy.” + +“Why, really! and yet I have lived in the time when all the news about +Buonaparte used to come; when our people used to be hanging the flag +from the church almost every month, for a victory or something. It can +hardly be anything greater than that. Hark, children, hark! Mr. Ryan is +going to tell us some news. But I hope, Ryan, it is such as may be told +on a Lord’s day evening.” + +“Certainly. If my news be not diligently spread, we may chance soon to +have no more Lord’s day evenings. You may look shocked; but what is to +come of all Christian things when the heathen come upon us? and what +heathens are so bad as the Turks, you know?” + +Mrs. Ede quailed with consternation, never having heard of the Turks, +and having no other idea about heathens than that the bible called them +very bad people, and that (for so she had always taken for granted) they +lived upon a heath—probably after the manner of gipsies. She was afraid +this bad news was too true, so many opportunities as Mr. Ryan had for +knowing what was going on abroad. + +“Indeed you are right, Mrs. Ede. It was a man from abroad that told me. +He has not been three months over from Hamburgh with his lot of rags +from the Mediterranean; and he informs me that the Turks are coming up +to take Russia and Europe, and make Turkish slaves of all the +Christians.” + +“The Lord have mercy! And then, I suppose, I had better not let my boy +and girl go out on the hills after the sheep. It will be safer to keep +them at home, won’t it? I would do without their little wages, rather +than that they should light upon any Turks under the hedges, or in any +lane.” + +“You will have notice in good time, neighbour. I myself will endeavour +to let you know, the first minute I can. And if I don’t, you will find +it out by all the church bells tolling, and the battles on all sides +through the country. O, yes; every bell that has a clapper will toll, +partly to give notice, and partly to see what the Turks can do against +the Christian bells of our Christian churches. Yes, every bell in the +land will toll.” + +“Same as when the princess died,” said Mildred. “I heard the great bell +all the way from P that day, when I was on the hill-top. Maybe I’ll hear +it again, if the wind come from that way.” + +“Indeed you shall not be on the hill-top, child, the day that the Turks +come. Could you give us an idea when it will be, Ryan? It would be a +pity but some of the ewes should yean first, if it is not dictating to +the Lord to say so.” + +The enemy could hardly be coming just yet, Ryan thought, as the +Government was going to change the Parliament, in hopes of getting one +that would be more fit to preserve the empire than the present. Mr. +Arruther would be soon coming into the neighbourhood to manage his +election; and that event might serve in some sort as a token. + +“Mrs. Arruther would have known all about the Turks, if everything had +been right,—you know what I mean?” said Mrs. Ede to her guest. “But I +suppose, as it is, I had better not mention anything of danger to the +poor lady, sick as she is.” + +“By no means, unless she breaks the subject to you. Tell her other sorts +of news. Tell her that I and my sack are likely soon to come travelling +at the rate of a hundred miles an hour.” + +“O, Mr. Ryan, where will you find the horses that will bring you at that +rate? Why, a hundred horses would not bring you so quick as that, if you +had money to hire them!” + +Ryan smiled, and said that he meant to travel at this rate without +horses at all. Ay; they might wonder at any one travelling at such a +rate on foot; but the way was this:—there was a new sort of road going +to be made, on which never a horse was to set foot, and where, by paying +half-a-crown to get upon it, a man and his baggage,—and a woman too,— +might do as he had said. It was to be called a rail-road. + +Because it was to be railed in, no doubt, to keep off those who could +not pay half-a-crown. Now, if the government could keep the enemy off +this road, and let all its own people upon it, all might run away, so as +to leave the Turks no chance of following. This seemed to open a +prospect of escape; and nurse rose in better spirits, to put on her +bonnet to go to Mrs. Arruther’s. A curious picture was before her mind’s +eye, of Ryan’s gliding along a rail-road with his sack on his back, as +fast as she had sometimes gone in dreams,—for all the world like boys +sliding on the ice in winter. The wonder was that, if Ryan spoke truth, +this curious road would be quite as efficacious on the hottest day of +summer as after a week’s frost. + +When she had finished her little arrangements for the comfort of her +guest, and bidden him good night, she called Ambrose out after her, and +desired him to fetch cheese from the village grocer’s for Ryan’s +breakfast, the moment the shop should be opened. If he was there by the +time the first shutter was taken down, he might cut for himself and +Mildred a quarter of the cheese he should bring home. It would give a +relish to their bread when they should have been after the sheep for a +couple of hours, and feel ready for their breakfast on the hill-side. + + + CHAPTER II. + + MATERNAL ANTICIPATIONS. + + +As there must be no communication with Mrs. Arruther about the most +important article of Ryan’s news, nurse would have had no objection to +talk it over a little on her way through the village; but she found no +opportunity to do so. There were no walkers to be seen enjoying the cool +of the evening by the side of the placid Arne, as it flowed on towards +the fall where it turned the wheel of Mr. Waugh’s paper-mill. There were +no husbands and wives sitting outside their doors, after having put +their children to sleep. There were no lingerers in the churchyard, +talking over the sermon of the morning. A low, confused murmur of +suppressed voices issued from the narrow opening of the ale-house door, +as it stood ajar, and let a gleam of light from within fall across the +road. Almost every interior was visible from being more or less lighted +up; but no one offered encouragement for a word of conversation in +passing. Mrs. Dowley was slapping her boy Tom because he would not go to +sleep as she bade him; and Mrs. Green, whose children were more obedient +in this one respect, was dozing with her head upon the table, by way of +whiling away the time till her husband should come home from the Rose. +Kate Jeffery was reading to her grandfather as he sat in his great +chair; and it would not do to interrupt her, lest it should be the bible +that she was reading. A knot of lads were gathered about the churchyard +gate; but their voices sounded so rude, that nurse, who was a somewhat +timid woman, made a circuit to avoid passing through them. The porter at +Mrs. Arruther’s let her in with a studious haste which seemed to +intimate that he thought her late; and she did not stay to be told so. +In the housekeeper’s room she only tarried to see that her close cap +looked neat, and to pin on the shawl she always wore when she sat up at +night. Mrs. Arruther had asked for her six times in the last ten +minutes; so there was not a moment to be lost. + +“You were to come at nine o’clock, and it is ten minutes past, nurse,” +said the sick lady. “This is always the way people treat me,—as if there +was not a clock in Arneside.” + +There were several clocks in Arneside, by one of which it was two +minutes past nine, by another it wanted a quarter to nine; a third was +at half-past eight, and a fourth was striking three as nurse passed its +door. But Mrs. Ede never contradicted her patients. She told of Ryan’s +arrival, and was admonished that no guest of hers could possibly be of +half so much importance as Mrs. Arruther. + +“I know how it is, nurse. It is those children of yours that can do +nothing for themselves, any more than any other children that are +educated as the fashion is now. They will want you to wash their faces +for them, and put them to bed, as long as they live, if you go on +sending them to that Sunday school.” + +Nurse was very sorry to hear this. She did not know, in such a case, +what they were to do to get their faces washed when she should be gone +to her grave, where she hoped to be long before her three children. But +indeed she must say for her little folks that they could all put +themselves to bed, and had done it, even the youngest, these two years +past. + +“Ay, ay; that was before you sent them to the school. Keep them there a +little longer, and they will be fit for nothing at all. You never will +believe any warning I give you about it; but I tell you again, the three +last housemaids I had this year, one after the other, were the worst +that ever entered my doors; and they could all read and write. What do +you think of that? O, my head! My head!” + +Nurse thought it was time that the draught should be taken, and proposed +to smooth the pillow, and shade the light. This done, she wound up the +lady’s watch, and sat down behind the curtain, in hopes that the patient +would sleep. Of this, however, there seemed but little chance. Mrs. +Arruther tossed about, and groaned out her wonder why she could not go +to sleep like other people, till nurse was obliged to take notice, and +ask whether there was anything that she could do for her. + +“Do! yes, to be sure. Bring out the light from wherever you have hidden +it. It is hard enough not to be able to go out and see things, as I have +done all my life till now; and here you won’t let me see what is in my +own room. Where are you going to put the light? Not under that picture. +You know I can’t bear that picture. And, mind, to-morrow morning——Bless +me! what do you lift up your hand in that manner for?” + +Nurse could only beg pardon. She had made an involuntary gesture of +astonishment on hearing that the lady could not bear that beautiful +picture of her own only son,—that picture which represented him in his +chubby boyhood, standing at his mother’s knee, with hoop in hand. She +was told not to be troublesome with her wonder, but to see that the +picture was carried up into the lumber garret to-morrow, and something +put in its place to hide its marks on the wall; anything that would not +stare down upon people as they lay in bed, as that child’s eyes did. By +rousing the wearied maid, just as she was falling asleep, nurse obtained +a muslin apron, which, when she stood on the table, she could hang over +the picture: and two or three pins, judiciously applied below, obviated +all danger of the veil rising with any breath of air, so as to disclose +the features of the boy. + +“You had better take warning, and look to your children in time, nurse, +before they grow up to plague you as my boy has plagued me.” + +She had drawn back the curtain, and now showed herself as much disposed +for conversation as if she had taken a waking instead of a sleeping +draught. + +“And you lay it all to education, ma’am? You think the university to +blame for it? Well! ’tis hard to say.” + +“What put such a notion into your head? Who ever dreams of objecting to +the university for gentlemen? You would not have my son brought up as +ignorant as a ploughboy; would you? No, no. I have done my duty by him +in that way. He had the best-recommended tutors I could get for him, and +every advantage at the university that was to be had; and the best proof +of what was done for him is the credit he got there, and the prizes, and +the reputation. He is a very fine scholar. Nobody denies that.” + +Nurse pondered the practicability of putting the question she would have +liked to have had answered; whether learning had had the same effect +upon Mr. Arruther that the lady had anticipated for Owen and Ambrose. +Nurse would fain know whether Mr. Arruther could wash his own face, and +put himself to bed. + +“Let us hope, ma’am, that the young gentleman will live and learn. If he +is not able to do little things now, perhaps——” + +“Little things! What sort of little things?” + +“Well, ma’am, I thought if your late house-maids could not polish the +fire-irons, or make your bed to your liking, and if you fear that my +boys should not keep themselves clean when I am gone, because of their +learning, perhaps.... But indeed, when I once saw the young gentleman, +his gloves were as white as my apron, and the sunshine came back from +the polish of his boots. I never saw a neater gentleman.” + +“He is a puppy,” replied the tender mother. “I suppose it was that dandy +show of his that caught the eyes of the low creature he has married. If +I never get the better of this illness, she shall have none of my +clothes to wear. No shopkeeper’s daughter shall be seen in the laces my +mother left to me. I had rather give some of them to you, nurse, at +once.” + +“God forbid, ma’am! What should I do with laces? Such as I!” + +“Very true. Now it is strange that a sensible woman like you, who knows +what is proper, in her own case, should be so wrong about her children. +What have they to do with education any more than you have with laces?” + +Nurse took refuge under the sanction of the clergyman and of Mr. Waugh; +and protested that she had as little idea of sending Owen and Ambrose to +the university, as of asking that Mildred should wear the lady’s family +Valenciennes and Mechlin. + +“Well; I wonder what it is that you would have! I can’t make out what it +is that you would be at!” + +“Ma’am, if I had all I wished for——but I may as well be setting on a +cup-full of broth to warm, as I fancy you may take a liking to a little, +by-and-by.” + +The lady let nurse do this. When she was tired of wondering whether she +could take any broth when it should be warm, she languidly said,— + +“Go on. What would you have for your children? Pray remember what I have +heard you say yourself—that pride comes before a fall.” + +“And a much greater one than I said that before me, ma’am. But I would +not have my children made proud, because I should be sorry they should +fall below what they are. If I had my wish, it would be that Owen should +have work at the mill as long as he lives, so as to be pretty sure of +eighteen shillings a week for a continuance; and that he should marry +such a girl as Kate Jeffery, who would take as much care of his house as +I would myself; and that they should never want for shoes and stockings +for their children’s feet. And much the same for Ambrose.” + +“Is that all? They might have all this without reading and writing.” + +“Perhaps so, ma’am; but Kate reads to her grandfather of a Sunday +evening, as I saw when I passed to-night; and the neighbours think, as +well as I, that it is the boys that get on best with their learning that +go straightest to their work; not swinging on the churchyard gate, nor +swearing, to get a look that they may make game of from grave people +passing by. As for Mildred, I don’t well know what to wish. ’Tis hard +work for poor girls when they settle and have their families early: but +then, I should be loth to leave her to live solitary in our cottage, +spending her days all alone upon the hills. However, that will be as the +Lord pleases. Meantime, I should best like that fifteen years hence, +when the boys will be perhaps settled away, my girl should be keeping +our place clean for me, and giving me her arm to church, and helping me +with her little learning when, as often happens, I am at a loss to +answer, for want of knowing. I have no wish to be idle, I am sure. I +hope to knit her stockings and make her petticoats still, if she will +clean the cupboard out, and entertain the clergyman better than I can +do.” + +The clergyman was not present to start the inquiry whether such were the +sum total of the purposes for which spiritual beings were brought into a +world teeming with spiritual influences. If he had been there, he might +not, perhaps, have got a curtsey from nurse by telling her that her +views were quite proper, and that she rightly understood what to desire +for her young folks. Perhaps he might have thought little better of Mrs. +Arruther’s aspirations. + +“My boy has cruelly disappointed me,” she declared: “and yet I wished +for no more than I had a right to expect from him. I wished that he +should be a good scholar; and so he is. I wished that he should have the +looks and manners of a gentleman.” + +“And sure, ma’am, so he has?” + +“O yes: and I hoped to see him in parliament, if it was only for once; +and I carried this point, and mean to carry it again, if I can. He is in +parliament with my money, and he shall have enough for the next +election. But there’s an end. Instead of marrying as I wished, he has +taken up with a tradesman’s daughter; and he may make the best of his +bargain. Not an acre of my land, nor a shilling of my money that I can +leave away, shall he have. If I am disappointed in him, I will have my +satisfaction. I will do what I can to show people that they should take +care what they expect from their children. He sha’n’t have all the laugh +on his side. He sha’n’t say for nothing that my behaviour to him is +unpardonable.” + +Nurse wondered whether at the university they taught to forgive and +forget. If they did, perhaps the young gentleman would be bent upon +making up matters, if be thought himself put upon; and then there might +be a coming round on the other side. + +“I don’t know what they do there about forgiving; but I am sure they +teach the young men to forget. He never wrote to me above once, the last +year he was there; and that was for money. And he never thought more of +his cousin Ellen, though I told him to marry her, and requested him to +send her down a lap-dog like mine. When I asked him what he meant by it, +he said Ellen and all had entirely slipped his memory. I told him my +mind, pretty plainly; so I suppose it will slip his memory that I live +hereabouts, when he comes down to his election. If he tries the gate——” + +“O, ma’am! You will not turn him away?” + +“No: it might cost him his election; and I don’t wish that. I should +miss my own name from the newspapers then; and it would be hard to lose +my pleasure in the newspapers. I will do nothing to hurt his election. +He shall be let in to see me; and then I will say to him, ‘All that lawn +and those fields, and all this house and the plate would have been yours +very soon, (for I can’t live long,) if you had married your cousin +Ellen, as I bade you: but it is too late for that now; and Ellen’s +husband shall have every ——’—What do you look in that way for, nurse? I +am not going to leave it into another name. Ellen’s husband shall take +my name before he touches a shilling.” + +“And if a judgment should come upon us meantime, ma’am. If the heathen +should——Did not you say there is to be a new election? Is not that the +same as the government getting a new parliament?” + +“To be sure.” + +“And that is done when a danger is thought to be at hand, is not it?” + +“Not always; and if it was, no harm can come to my property. The deeds +are all in my lawyer’s hands,—in his strong-box,—safe enough.” + +It was plain that Mrs. Arruther knew nothing about the approach of the +Turks; and it would be cruel to tell her, when she might very likely die +before they appeared in Arneside. + +“What are you afraid of, nurse? I am sure you are in a panic about +something. It is too soon for your boys to be marrying against your +will, I suppose?” + +“Yes, thank God. And they will never be able to marry so far below them +as your young gentleman may do; for the reason that they will never +stand so high as he. But yet I can fancy that if my Owen took to a +giggling jade, with her hair hanging about her ears, and a sharp voice, +it would weigh heavy on my heart.” + +“And your money would weigh light in his pocket, hey?” + +“I shall have no money to leave, ma’am; and as to——” + +“No money to leave! I dare say. You never will have money to leave while +you throw away your services as you do. I did wonder at you last week, +when you managed to find somebody else to sit up with old Mr. Barnes, +that you might nurse Widow Wilks’s child. I saw beforehand what would +come of it. The child died, just the same as if you had been with Mr. +Barnes; and you missed your chop, and brandy and water, and the handsome +pay you would have had; and Mr. Barnes is a nice, mild old gentleman, +that you might have been glad to nurse. I thought you knew your duty to +your children better than to waste your services in any such way.” + +Nurse was very sorry the lady was displeased with what she had done. She +had acted for the best, thinking what an aggravation it would be of the +weary widow’s grief for her child if she fancied, after its death, that +it might have been saved by good nursing. Having acted for the best, she +hoped her children would not remember these things against her when she +was gone. + +“You seem to be always thinking how things will be after you are gone. +What will all that signify when you are cold in your grave?” + +“It seems natural, ma’am, when one has children to care for. I hardly +think that God gives us children only that we may play with them while +they sprawl about and amuse us, and make use of them while they are +subject to our wills, having no steady one of their own. I think, by the +yearning that mothers have after their sons and daughters when they are +grown up into men and women, that it must be meant for us to keep a hold +over their hearts when they have done acting by our wills. And so, when +I talk of what is to happen when I am gone, it is with the feeling that +I dare not go and appear before God without doing my best to have my +children think of me as one that tried to do her duty by God and them.” + +“But if Owen married as you said, how should he, for one, think +pleasantly of you?” + +“Indeed I am afraid the thought of his folly would rankle. But my +endeavour would be to make the lightest and best of what could not be +helped. I would tell him that there could be no offence to me in his +judging for himself in a case where nobody has a right to judge for him; +and I should make no difference between him and the rest. My father’s +bible is, as they know, to go to the one that can read in it best when I +am on my death-bed; and the other few things are to be equally divided. +My girl is to have my spinning-wheel; and the deal table will be Owen’s; +and the chair and three stools——” + +“Those things are to your children, I suppose, much the same as my lawn +and this house to my son?” + +“I dare say they would be, ma’am; and, in some sense, all property that +is left by the dying to the living seems to be much alike, whether it be +great, or whether it be little. To my mind, it is not so much the use of +a legacy to give pleasures to those that can enjoy little pleasure when +a parent or other near friend is taken away, as to leave the comfort of +feeling that the departed wished to be just and kind. It is all very +well, you see, that my girl should have the use of my spinning-wheel; +but if it was made of King Solomon’s cedar wood, Mildred’s chief +pleasure would be to think, while she spun, that I remembered her kindly +when I lay dying; and for this, a spinning-wheel does as well as a room +full of pictures, or a mint of money. And when I see a family +quarrelling and going to law about their father’s legacies, I cannot but +think how much better it would be for them if each of the daughters had +but a spinning-wheel, and each of the sons neither more nor less than a +deal table, or the chair their father sat in.—But,” lowering her voice, +“here am I chattering on without thinking, while you are just asleep, +which I am glad to see.” + +Whether from a disposition to sleep, or from some other cause, Mrs. +Arruther’s eyes were closed; and she did not move while nurse once more +softly drew the curtain. When, in the silence, nurse began to consider +what, in the fullness of her heart, she had been saying, she was +thunderstruck at her own want of good manners in uttering what must have +seemed intended for a reproof to the lady about her conduct to her son. +Her heart beat in her throat as one sentence after another of her +discourse came back upon her memory. What was she that she should be +lecturing Mrs. Arruther?—But perhaps the lady had been too drowsy to +listen. It was to be hoped so, rather than that she should suppose that +nurse was paying her off for her opposition to the children’s going to +the school. + +When sufficiently composed for the nightly duty which she never omitted, +nurse added to her usual prayers the petition that this suffering lady +might be spared till she could see clearly what it was just that she +should do towards the son who had displeased her. Before she had +finished, there was another movement, and a mutter of “O dear!” from +within the curtain. + +“I hoped you had been asleep, ma’am. Can’t you find rest?” + +“No, nurse; but you cannot help that. I will see my lawyer to-morrow. It +is too late to be thinking about wills to-night. But I don’t believe I +shall sleep a wink to-night. Do you take that broth, nurse. I cannot +bear the thought of it. It prevents my getting to sleep. I believe I +shall never close my eyes all night.” + +Nurse really thought she would, if she would only take the other +draught, and settle her mind to trouble herself about nothing till +to-morrow. + + + CHAPTER III. + + LESSONS ON THE HILLS. + + +“Fetch down a plate from the cupboard, Ambrose, and cover up the beer, +while I cut the cheese. I suppose we may have a quarter of the cheese, +as mother said,” observed Mildred to Ambrose, as the early sun was +peeping in through the upper panes of the cottage lattice the next +morning. + +“Yes; we may have the quarter. I was at the shop before the first +shutter was down. Here—here’s a plate for Mr. Ryan’s cheese. We will +carry ours in the paper I brought it in. How shall I keep puss from +getting at the things? Is not that Mr. Ryan stirring?—Mr. Ryan! Mr. +Ryan!” (calling through the door.) “Please to look to your breakfast +here, that the cat does not get it. We are going now; and Owen is gone +to the mill; and mother is not home yet.” + +“Off with you, lad!” answered Ryan from within. “Leave the cat to me. +And if you can pick up any rags for me among the briers, you know I +always give honest coppers for them; and yet more for tarred ropes, if +such an article comes in your way.” + +“Tarred ropes! How should we get them? If tar by itself would do, I +could help you to some of that. The shepherds always keep tar against +the shearing. Would tar by itself do?” + +The loud laugh from within showed Ambrose that he had said something +foolish; and he hastily departed, supposing that Mr. Ryan had been +making a joke of him. + +Cool and moist as all had been in the valley as they passed, the +children found that the dew was gone from the furze-bushes on the hills, +and that the sun was very warm. + +“What had we better do?” asked Mildred, contemplating the yellow cheese, +which began to shine almost as soon as she opened the paper. “Shall we +eat it directly? I think I am beginning to be very hungry; are not you? +And it will be half melted, and the bread dry, if we carry it about in +the sun.” + +“Mother said we were to keep the sheep for a couple of hours first,” was +Ambrose’s reply. “And besides, I have some leaves to get for her; and +they won’t be fit if I let them stay till the dew is off; and it is off +already, except under the shady side of the bushes. Put the breakfast +under the shady side of this bush; I’ll look to it.—Do you go about and +get some rags, if you can find any. The briers and hedges are the most +likely places.” + +“There won’t be any Turks under the hedges, will there?” asked Mildred, +lowering her voice. + +“I don’t know. I don’t rightly know what Turks are; but if anything +happens amiss, call out loud to me, and I’ll come. Go; make haste. The +sheep are quiet enough.” + +“And how are we to know when two hours are over?” + +“We must each guess, I suppose; and if we don’t agree, we’ll draw lots +with a long spike of grass and a short one. The long one for me, you +know, because I’m the eldest.” + +In forty minutes, both were agreed that two hours were over; and each +complimented the other on the fruits of the morning’s work. Ambrose +exhibited a handful of leaves, which he placed under a big stone, that +they might not be blown away; and Mildred brought the foot of a worsted +stocking, which she had found in a ditch; a corner of a blue cotton +handkerchief with white spots, which had been impaled on a furze bush; +and a bit of white linen as large as the palm of her little hand, with +twenty holes in it. How many coppers would Ryan be likely to give her +for this treasure? + +Ambrose rejected the worsted article, to which his sister gave a sigh as +she saw it thrown backwards among a group of sheep, who scampered away +in their first terror, but soon gathered together to look at the +fragment. The other two might be worth the third part of a farthing, if +Mr. Ryan should be in a liberal mood, Ambrose thought. + +“I wonder how much paper they will make,” Mildred observed. “Mr. Ryan +says they are to go into his sack with the rest of his rags, for paper. +Mother did not tell you what she wanted the leaves for, I suppose?” + +“No; and I sha’n’t ask her. Do you ever hear people talk about what +mother makes?” + +“Why, yes; I do. Molly at Mrs. Arruther’s was telling the gipsy woman +one day about mother; and she said she had some strange secrets. And +then they asked me what one thing meant, and another. But they did not +mean me to hear all they said, any more than Mrs. Dowley when she winked +at her husband, and glanced down at mother’s apron where some green was +peeping out: but it was only cabbage that time. They all think her a +very wise doctor.” + +“How they do send after her when they are ill! Mr. Yapp said one day +that she would be wise to bring up one of us to be a doctor after her: +but Mrs. Dowley was there then, and she said it could not be, because +mother’s was of the nature of a gift that could not be taught.—Here is +your other bit of cheese. Will you have it now, or keep it till dinner?” + +Mildred had intended to reserve part of her cheese for dinner; but +having now nothing particular to do, and the sheep offering nothing +which required her attention, the whole of the delicacy at length +disappeared, crumb by crumb. Then she lay back, looking at a flight of +birds that now met, now parted, now crossed each other in all +directions, high in the air. Ambrose meanwhile stretched himself at +length, with his face to the ground, watching a hairy brown caterpillar, +which he took the liberty of bringing back with a gentle pinch by the +tail, as often as it flattered itself that it was getting beyond his +reach. He presently wished that they had a pair of scissors with them. + +“Won’t the knife do as well?” Mildred languidly inquired. + +“No. I want to cut off the creature’s hair.” + +“What creature?” asked Mildred, starting up, but seeing no creature with +hair, but a remote donkey and herself. + +“Here: this young gentleman,” replied her brother, exhibiting the +writhing caterpillar on the palm of his brown hand. Well might the +creature feel uncomfortable; for this hand which had carried cheese must +have been far from fragrant, in comparison with the thyme-bed on which +the poor caterpillar had been disporting himself. What Ambrose wanted +was to see whether it would come out a common green caterpillar, when +stripped of its long sleek hairs. The process of plucking was tried in +the absence of scissors: but the material was too fine. The knife was +next applied, but the creature was destined never to be shaven and +shorn. A slip of the knife cut it in two, and fetched blood on Mildred’s +finger at the same time. The perturbation thus caused completely +awakened her, and she was ready for the sport of shepherd and shepherd’s +dog. For a very long time, Ambrose supported his dignity of shepherd. He +strapped himself round with his sister’s pinafore and his own for a +plaid; took long steps; wielded a thick stick, and made grand noises to +the flock; while Mildred went on all fours till her back was almost +broken, and barked all the while, like any dog. The sheep were silly +enough to scud before her to the very last, as much alarmed as at first, +till she was obliged to stop to laugh at them. All play must come to an +end; and by-and-by the children were stretched, panting, on the very +spot where they had breakfasted. To panting succeeded yawning; and it +began to occur to both that they had yet a long day to pass before the +sheep would be penned. It was against the rules of their employment that +both should sleep at the same time; and, as Mildred could not keep +awake, it was necessary for her brother to watch. She was not, as usual, +wakened by his calling out so loud to some of his charge as to rouse her +before her dream was done. She finished it, opened her eyes, sat up and +stretched herself; and Ambrose was too busy to take notice. + +“I had such a queer dream!” observed Mildred.—Her brother did not hear. + +“I say, Ambrose, I dreamt that I was sorting rags at the mill, and there +was a caterpillar upon every one of them; and—What have you got there, +Ambrose? Did you hear what I said?” + +“Come here,” replied her brother. “Here is a story! Help me to make it +out.” + +“A story! what, upon the very piece of paper that held the cheese! What +is the story like? Tell me. You know I can’t read so well as you.” + +“But you can help me with this part, perhaps. I will tell you what I +have read when I know this word. The man would not go in somewhere; and +this word tells where.” + +Mildred pored over the soiled piece of print, and pronounced presently +that the word in question signified something about a comb. In her +spelling-book, c-o-m-b spelled comb. But of the rest of the word,— +“inat,”—“in,”——“What could it be? + +“It ends with ‘nation.’ ‘Comb’—‘nation.’ Well: I must let that alone. +There was a man that would not go into this place,—whatever it is,—and +the people that were in it were angry because he went to his work.” + +“Because he did not go to his work, I suppose you mean.” + +“No; because he would go when they bade him not. And they watched for +him one day when he was going to work, and his little boy with him. They +call him a little boy, though he was eleven years old. They flew upon +the man, and thumped him and kicked him as hard as ever they could. And +when the boy cried, and begged they would not use his father so cruelly, +one of them caught up a thick rope, and beat the boy till it was a +shocking sight to see him.” + +“They were cruel wretches. I wonder whether there was anybody near to go +for the constable? Did they get a constable?” + +“I suppose so, for the people were asked how they dared to beat people +so.” + +“And what did they say?” + +“This that I can’t make out, about going in and not going in: but they +got a good scolding,—and that is as far as I have got.” + +“See what is to be done to them, and whether there is anything more +about the boy.” + +Another half-hour’s spelling and consultation revealed that the child +had pulled one of the assailants down by the leg, and thus turned the +fury of the man upon himself; that it was doubtful whether the boy would +recover; and that, this being the case, the decision of the magistrates +was that—— + +Here came the jagged edges of the torn newspaper, instead of the +magistrates’ decision. This was very disagreeable indeed. Not to know +what became of the aggressors, and whether the brave boy lived or died, +was cruel. Ambrose threw away the paper, and grew cross. Mildred’s +consolations,—that very likely the boy was well by this time, and she +had no doubt the cruel people were put in prison,—were of no use. A +better device than to imagine the issue suggested itself to Ambrose. He +would go and ask Mr. Yapp. The paper having come from Mr. Yapp’s shop, +he no doubt knew the end of the story. Could not Mildred look after the +flock while he ran down now? No harm could come to the sheep during the +little time that he should be gone. + +Mildred did not like this plan,—was sure her mother would not like it. +Ambrose had better read the story over again, to try and understand it +better; and she would go with him to Mr. Yapp’s when the flock was +penned, in the evening. Never did the oriental scholar pore more +diligently over a new tablet of hieroglyphics than these two children +over the fragment of a police report which had fallen in their way. To +no scholar can it be so important to ascertain a doubtful point of +history, or to develope facts of the costume and manners of a remote +people, as it was to these young creatures to learn the issue of a case +in which rights like their own were invaded, and filial sympathies like +their own were aggrieved. + +Again, during the day, Ambrose called to his sister that he had +something to say to her, and Mildred knew that it must relate to the +story he had read, so complete was the possession it had taken of his +mind. He thought the people round were great fools for not punishing the +aggressors on the spot. If he had been there, he would not have waited +to hear what the magistrates said; not he. He would have knocked down +every one of them that he could get at, if it were by pulling by the leg +as the poor boy had done. + +“And then,” said Mildred, “they would have served you the same as the +boy; and if anybody had taken your part, they would have served him the +same. I don’t think that would do any good.” + +“Nothing like a battle,” exclaimed Ambrose, waving his cap over his +head. “I like a good battle better than all the justices and gentlemen +in the world.” + +“I don’t like battles,” Mildred observed. “I do not much mind seeing you +and Sam Dobbs fight here on the heath, where you only throw one another +down, and the grass is too soft to hurt you. But I saw the men fight +before the Rose; and one of them lifted the other up high into the air, +and dashed him down slap upon the pavement; and you might have heard the +knock of his head as far as the pump, I’m sure. There was such a +quantity of blood that I could not eat my supper! I should not like to +see such a battle often!” + +“O, only tell me when anybody does you any harm, and see how I will +fight for you.” + +“I am sure I shall not tell anything about it, if you go and fight in +that manner. I would ask mother or Owen to go with me to Justice Gibson. +If you consider, there would be fighting all day long in our place, and +much more in L——, if all people chose to battle it out instead of going +to the Justice. And besides, I think the Justice can take much better +care of this poor little boy than anybody that just fought a battle for +him, and then went away.” + +Ambrose saw this; and before dinner was over, both the children had +learned, after their own fashion, how far superior law is to vengeance, +and security to retaliation. Confined as their ideas were (the picture +of their own little village and few associates alone being before their +eyes), this was a most important notion to have acquired. There needed +only the experience of life to enable them to extend their conceptions,— +Justice Gibson standing for the magistracy at large, and the little +village of Arneside for social life in general. + +Evening came. The sheep were penned, and the children were standing +before Mr. Yapp’s shop-door, pushing each other on to the feat of asking +the grocer for the rest of the story. They saw Mr. Yapp’s eyes turned on +them once or twice; but they could not get courage to make use of the +opportunity. It was Mr. Yapp himself who at last brought on the crisis. + +“Come, younkers,” said he, “make your way in or make your way off. Don’t +stand in my door, preventing people coming in.” + +Mildred moved off; Ambrose bolted in; and then his sister came up to +reinforce him. As the grocer had nothing very particular to attend to at +the moment, he did not crush the aspiration for knowledge. He directed +the children to the package of paper from which their fragment had been +taken, and looked over the story himself. It would have been too long a +task for such poor scholars to seek for what they wanted by reading. To +compare the jagged edges of the paper was a much readier method; and +Mildred did this, while Mr. Yapp gave her brother some imperfect idea +(for he was not learned on the subject) what a Combination was, and why +a man was ill-treated for not entering into one. This was worth coming +for; but it was all. Mildred’s search was unsuccessful. The rest of the +story was irrecoverable. Many customers, some from distant farms and +cottages, had been at the shop to-day; and it was impossible to say who +had carried it off. + +Ambrose begged for his paper back again. There was something on the +other side that he wanted to show to Owen. + +“Let’s see,” said Mr. Yapp. “Why, this looks like magic,—all these +waves, and dashes, and dots, and signs. O, ho! it is short-hand, I see. +Somebody advertises to teach short-hand. There, take it to Owen, and see +what he makes of it.” + +Ambrose turned the paper about, but could see nothing like a hand. What +could be meant by short-hand? + +A way of writing short, he was told; and he remained as wise as he was +before. But now Miss Selina Yapp, who stood smiling behind the counter, +was desired to give the children half-a-dozen raisins apiece; and it was +quite time to be going home. + +Their mother was looking out for them from the door. + +“Why, mother, are you going to be out again to-night? Sure the lady must +be very bad!” + +“I am not going to the lady till morning, dears. ’Tis poor neighbour +Johns I am now going to. Sadly sunk he is; and his old woman is nigh +worn out. So I’ve made my bit of a bed fit for her here; and it is full +time she was in it. So, troop to bed, dears. Get your suppers while ye +undress; and be as still as mice, sleeping or waking, when she comes in. +Put your learning away till to-morrow, Owen, my boy. Pussy won’t eat +your paper before morning, I dare say, if you put it where it will be +safe. You’ve had your supper; so now to bed, my boy. You’ll be fresh all +the earlier in the morning. But be sure you put on your shoes the last +thing, lest you should wake the old woman with your clatter.” + +Owen’s eye had been completely caught by the mysterious figures of the +short-hand specimen. He held it between his teeth while he undressed, +and went on looking at it by the twilight, after he was in bed, till his +brother and sister had done talking; and then he put it under his +bolster. Ambrose, meantime, stuffed his mouth with his supper very +indefatigably, and yet managed to get out his story of the little boy +who had been beaten for defending his father. Following his mother about +wherever she moved, he made her mistress of the whole before he had +done. + +Mrs. Ede was not disappointed at their saying nothing about her sitting +up again to-night. To them, it was so much a matter of course that she +should sit up professionally, and to her that she should do what she +could for a needy and suffering neighbour, that the circumstance did not +seem worthy of remark. All were more occupied with Mildred’s +disappointment. It was feared that Mr. Ryan was gone from the village +this evening, and that he would not come on his rounds again for +half-a-year. He had himself bid Mildred look for rags; and now he was +gone before she came home! Her bits of blue and white must stand over +till he appeared again; for Owen did not think any money would be given +for them at the mill. Nurse stayed yet five minutes longer, to comfort +her little daughter under this mischance; and within that five minutes, +all three were sound asleep. + +“Bless their little faces, how pretty they all do look!” thought the +mother. “’Tis almost a pity to leave such a pretty sight. I wonder which +of them will stand so by me, when I am old and failing like neighbour +Johns; if it should please God I should live till then. But, dear me, +what a puckered old face mine will be then!—little like their smooth +rosy cheeks. ’Tis a cheerless thing for two old folks to be left without +children, unfit to take care of one another, like poor neighbour Johns +and his dame; and yet worse it would be for me that have laid my husband +in his grave so long ago. But if God spares me my little ones, and my +girl stays near me, I need not care what else betides. Bless them! how +sweetly they do breathe in their sleep! And now, I must go and send the +dame to her bed. I trust she will be thoughtful not to wake the +children; and I’m sure they will be thoughtful towards her in the +morning.” + + + CHAPTER IV. + + SIGNS IN THE SKY. + + +A few years passed away, and Mrs. Ede was in possession of the blessings +she prayed for. Her children were all spared to her, in health, and, by +her and their own industry, secured from want. Upon the whole, she had +reason to be satisfied with them, though there was a wider difference in +their characters and attainments than she could have wished to see. She +did not grow restless about what, she supposed, came by nature. She +concluded it to be God’s will that Owen should be “as sharp as a briar,” +active in his business, ready about bringing home things pleasant and +wonderful to hear, and looked upon by his employer and the village at +large as a rising youth who would one day be a credit to his native +place. Nurse concluded it to be God’s will that Owen should be thus, +while his brother and sister were far from being like him. What had made +them dull she scarcely knew; unless it was being out so much on the +hills without companions, or anything to do but to look after the flock, +and knit. They had lost their little learning sadly, and did not now +like going to the Sunday-school, as they forgot during the week what +they had learned the Sunday before, and became ashamed of growing so +tall while they knew so little of what was looked for in a +Sunday-school. At home, too, it was a great temptation to nurse to apply +to Owen when she wanted to speak about anything that interested her, or +to have any little business transacted: he comprehended so much more +readily, observed so much more justly, and sympathised so much more +warmly than his brother and sister. But nurse was very conscientious +about making no differences in her treatment of her children; and she +took pains to bring forward the younger ones, continually saying to +herself, how very steady Ambrose was, and how thankful she ought to be +for a daughter who, like Mildred, made no difficulty of doing whatever +she was asked, as soon as she understood what was meant. + +Contented as she thought it her duty to be, nurse could not be otherwise +than rejoiced when a change took place in the family arrangements, which +seemed to open to Ambrose some of the advantages which his brother had +enjoyed. Owen had risen from sorting rags in the mill to offices of +higher trust, and requiring greater accomplishments than were necessary +for the lowest operation of paper-making. He was now made a superior +personage in the mill. It was his business to superintend some processes +of the manufacture; to give the necessary notice to the exciseman when +any paper had to be changed, or to be reweighed by the supervisor before +it was sent out for sale; to see that the excise laws were observed as +to the lettering of the different rooms, and the numbering of the +engines, vats, chests, and presses; to remind his employer when the time +approached for purchasing the yearly license; and (fearful +responsibility!) to take charge of the labels which were to be pasted +upon every ream. Nurse used to call Ambrose to listen, and say how he +should like such a charge, when Owen related that if one label should be +lost, his employer would be liable to a penalty of 200_l._; and that, as +it was necessary to Mr. Waugh’s convenience to purchase five hundred +labels at a time, the destruction of one lot would subject him to be +fined 100,000_l._ + +Owen rather enjoyed his responsibility; and, with a new sense of +dignity, set about his studies in his leisure hours with more zeal than +ever.—What was better, he entered with all possible earnestness into his +mother’s project of getting his brother into the mill before his honest +influence with Mr. Waugh was exerted for any other object. Mr. Waugh had +not the least objection to make trial of another son of Mrs. Ede’s. He +had heard that the lad was not over-bright; but he could but try; and if +he did not succeed, there were still flocks to be kept on the heath as +before. So Ambrose, with a smile on his sun-browned face, made ready, +the next Monday morning, to set forth, with his brother, for the mill. + +“If you find it rather close,” said his mother to him, “being under a +roof from six o’clock to six——” + +“But I am to come out for breakfast and dinner, mother.” + +“I was going to say, you can get a good deal of air in the two hours +allowed for meals. And you won’t think much of the air on the hills when +you have so much company about you. Think of there being thirty men in +the mill, and ten women, besides the children! You can never be dull; +and you must bring me home the news, as Owen always did.—The dullness +will be for Mildred, when she has not you for a companion any longer. I +say, Mildred, my dear; you must take care and not lose your tongue.” + +Mildred did not know that she should have anything to say all day, +except calling to the sheep. + +“Why, my dear, I have been thinking that you and Ambrose have never made +yourselves sociable with other young shepherds, as they used to do in my +father’s time. There must be plenty, I am sure, from end to end of +yonder hills; and why should you keep within such a narrow range as you +have kept hitherto? The sheep and you have legs to carry you farther; +and you have eyes to keep your flock from mixing with another. Why +should not you join company with somebody that may be sitting knitting +like you, all alone, and wishing for a chat?” + +“There’s Maude Hallowell of the next parish, just above the Birchen +dale; but that’s a long way off,” replied Mildred. + +“A long way! Well, I wonder what’s the use of young limbs, to call the +Birchen dale a long way! Try it, my dear; and tell Maude that she should +come over to your side in her turn. But she won’t see such a sight as +you may see, if the day be clear, when you come to the high point of the +ridge over Birchen dale. How I once saw the sea glistening, miles off, +through a gap of the hills!” + +“And the island, mother?” + +“Why, no. The island lies off there, they tell me; but it was too far +away, I fancy, for me to see it. But, do you try, when you go to look +for Maude Hallowell.” + +The Isle of Man was spoken of with great affection by the people here, +as untaxed islands usually are by their neighbours of a taxed country. +Many were the little secret privileges enjoyed throughout this district, +even as far as the village of Arneside,—privileges of participation in +various good things slily brought from the island, in opposition to all +the preaching of the wine-merchants and wholesale grocers of L——, and in +Arneside, of the clergyman and Mr. Waugh the paper-maker. All the +children attached ideas of mystery to the island, which they perpetually +heard mentioned and had never seen; and the getting any nearer to it,— +the actually seeing the sea amidst which it lay, was regarded as an +approach to the revelation of a great secret. Mildred thought she should +like to go and look for Maude. + +Nobody had imagined what an event these promotions would prove to the +whole family. It brought more new ideas into their minds than all their +Sunday schooling had done. + +Maude was something of a scholar in her way. She might be found sitting +in the heather, her knees up to her chin, and her plaid drawn over her +head, poring over a particular sort of pamphlet, which was the only work +she was much disposed to read. Her distaff lay on the ground beside her, +while she was studying; and when she took it up, she was apt to look +into the sky, or far out seawards, instead of minding her spinning. She +invariably started when Mildred laid a hand on her shoulder, or shouted +on approaching her. + +“Why, Maude, what makes your eyes look so big to-day?” asked Mildred, +one sultry afternoon, after having led her flock to a place where she +might possibly find a scanty shade under a birch. + +“My eyes? I’m sure I don’t know,” replied Maude, winking, as if to +reduce her eyes to their natural dimensions. “I don’t know what ails my +eyes. But I’ve such a thing to tell you! It takes away my breath to +think of it.” + +“The heat’s enough for that. The hill-breeze has hied away, and it is as +hot——Me! I wish the clouds would come up.” + +“There will be clouds enough by-and-bye, or water enough at least,— +clouds or no clouds,” Maude solemnly averred. “Has your mother told you +anything about the comet?” + +“No. If it is anything bad, I doubt whether she knows it; for she was +merry enough, this morning.” + +“Merry enough, I dare say. Not know it! These are not the sort of things +your mother does not know, as I heard a person say last night. Do but +you ask her about the comet, in a natural way, and see what she will +say. No, don’t ask her. Safer not. I’ll tell you.—You see this book. If +you will believe me, there is a comet coming up as fast as it can come, +and it will raise a flood that will drown——O Mildred, ’tis awful to +think of.” + +“What will it drown? Not our poor sheep?” + +“Our sheep and us too. My dear, the sea will come pouring through that +gap, and fill up all below, and leave us no footing on all these hills.” + +“Mercy, Maude! I must go and tell my mother; my poor mother!” exclaimed +Mildred, starting up from her blossomy seat. + +“Your mother will be safe enough,” Maude replied constrainedly. + +“Safe! How? Why?” + +“Ahem!” + +“Now, Maude, do tell me what you mean. Are you sure?” + +“Yes, that I am; and you may know when it is coming, by the signs. The +book tells the signs; but you must hold your tongue about them, the book +says, for fear of bringing on the whole sooner than it need. There will +be black storms coming up first, with thunder and lightning. That is to +be this summer, while the stars stand in a particular way. I’m going to +stay out late to-night, to see how the stars stand. You’ll bide with me, +Mildred?” + +Mildred shivered as she reminded her companion how far she had to travel +home: but Maude insisted that it would be necessary to see how the stars +stood, in order to find out afterwards when they began to move on and +cross each other. But before the three great stars came together in the +sky, a cruel enemy was to rise up against the land, and there were to be +some dreadful battles. This revived Mildred’s old terrors about the +Turks; and Maude looked more solemn than ever when she heard how many +years it was since nurse Ede had expected the Turks. By a natural +association of ideas, Maude went on to explain that those who were in +the confidence of the unseen powers, and who might be said to have +brought on these judgments, would be in no danger. They would be safe +amidst the storm they had raised, floating on the surface of the flood +like straws; while all others, as far as the flood should extend, would, +it was strongly apprehended, be drowned, unless they made use of “the +precautions recommended in the supplement to this pamphlet; sold, &c. +&c.” Those who were to be preserved would have warning of the approach +of the crisis by a tingling in the ancles, while the careless and +confident would have another warning given them by a slight, dull pain +near the nape of the neck. So, Mildred was to keep watch for any thing +her mother might say about her ancles, and to take fright directly if +she felt anything about the nape of her own neck. + +When she was sufficiently recovered to lay hold of the book, she found +that it was a very curious-looking book indeed, with a great number of +little moons and stars, and the picture of a wise man, and of a large +comet with a fiery tail. She could not but believe now all that Maude +had told her. + +How they were to get the other information,—about preserving +themselves,—was the next question. This book had come over from the +island; but not direct into Maude’s hands. It had found its way over the +moors from shepherd to shepherd; and no one now seemed to know to whom +it belonged, and who might be expected to procure the supplement. Owen, +who had so much to do with paper, and who knew all about printing and +books, was certainly the best person to apply to; and Mildred earnestly +begged the loan of the pamphlet, that she might show it to him. + +“Ah, if I might!” replied Maude: “but William Scott is to have it next; +and then Bessy is to show it to her father. I dare not let it go direct +to your brother; but when the others have done with it——I’ll quicken +them in the reading, and then hide it under yonder big stone. See, here +is a dry chink where nobody will think of prying. You may find the book +here, early next week. But, for your life, don’t let Owen show it. If he +goes and blabs, there is no saying what will become of us all.” + +Mildred did not know what worse could befall than, according to the +book, must happen at all events; and she thought Owen might as well be +trusted as the many people who were already acquainted with the +prophecy. + +“I wish,” observed Maude, “the book said which quarter the first storms +would come up from.” And as she spoke she looked towards the sea. + +“Ah, how black it is there!” Mildred anxiously observed. “It is coming +up for—for—rain. Don’t you fear so? O Maude, let us be gone! Maude, do, +for pity sake, go part of the way home with me.” + +Impossible. Maude must make the best of her way to her own home. If +Mildred made haste, she might perhaps get to Arneside before the clouds +burst. And this affectionate friend hied down the hill as fast as she +could, saying she should send one of her brothers to look after the +sheep. The companion whom she had terrified to the utmost was left to +shift for herself and her flock. The cry of “Maude! O Maude!” followed +her far on her way; but she only turned and waved her hand, to advise +her friend to make haste homewards. + +Mildred’s flock did not seem to have observed the signs of the sky. It +was still bright sunshine where they cropped the sweet grass; and they +were unwilling to leave their pasture. Mildred had never known them so +slow in their obedience; and when, at last, the overcast sky conveyed to +them that a storm was coming, they only huddled together, instead of +moving on, and began to bleat and frighten one another in a very piteous +way. Mildred began to cry a little in her flutter; but probably the +sheep did not find it out; for it made no difference in their +proceedings. Their mistress was not long in deciding that she must leave +them to their own wills, and take care of herself; and a crack of +thunder, nearly over head, confirmed her resolution. On she pressed, +along the ridge where there seemed to be no more air than in the closest +thicket in the dale. She panted with heat so violently that she was +compelled to stop, though chased by thunder-clouds, and dreading above +all things to encounter the lightning alone. It came in broad sheets of +flame, and not a drop of rain yet to put it out; as Mildred would have +said. When she reached the point of the ridge from which she must turn +into her own valley, she cast one more glance behind her towards her +flock. She had never seen the hills look as they did to-day. Their tops +were shrouded in darkness; and in the bottom all was nearly as murky as +if the sun had long set. The flock might just be seen in a cluster below +the mists upon the russet hill-side. At the moment when Mildred +discovered them, the clouds seemed to open, and let out a stream of blue +flame upon them. She shrieked; but there was no one to hear her. In +another instant, the poor animals were seen scattered far apart; and +their mistress believed that she saw one stretched on its side; the only +one now on the spot from which they had just fled. She loved every +individual sheep of her flock, more or less; but she could not at +present tarry to see which she had lost. She scudded on, tossed in mind +as to whether she should go home, or stop at some friendly house in the +village. Her mother’s presence had formerly been her refuge whenever she +was frightened; but now she hesitated between a desire to see what nurse +said about the storm, and a dread lest she should have had something to +do with it. She might have left the point to be settled by +circumstances. + +It was impossible to walk the whole way with her hands before her eyes. +The next time she looked up, she found that the clouds had been too +quick for her: the storm was now before her. It seemed gathering about +the village, and the grey church looked almost white against the murky +back-ground. Another bolt fell,—fell into the midst of the large yew in +the churchyard, under which Mrs. Arruther’s handsome monument stood, +looking almost new with its bright iron rails round it. The tree was +riven, as if by magic. Mildred was too far off to hear the crash; and to +her it seemed as if the wide-spreading tree had been reached by a finger +of fire, at whose touch it fell asunder, and bestrewed the ground in a +circle. In horror she turned her back to the spectacle; and the dreadful +recollection came into her mind that some people said mysteriously, that +her mother had somehow obtained great influence over Mrs. Arruther; and +others, that it might have been better for Mrs. Arruther to have seen +less of nurse Ede latterly. At this moment, it seemed as if the storm +had been sent on a mission to Arneside churchyard; for westward all was +again bright; and the sea, which was seldom distinguishable from this +point, lay like a golden line on the horizon. Mildred could not but turn +again to watch the progress of the storm. On it sped over the hills, +giving out as yet no rain. It was a bleak and dreary district which now +lay beneath the mass of clouds. A single farm, two miles from Arneside, +was the only visible habitation. Once more the lightning came down among +the group of buildings; and before it had travelled far, a tinge of +smoke rose among the barn roofs, and a red glimmer succeeded, which +Mildred considered as kindled by some malicious power which wrought its +will through the elements. The rain now pattered heavily on the crown of +her head, and she ran, far more swiftly than before, down to the +village. Instead of turning to her mother’s house, she directed her +steps through the village street on her way to the mill. About the +middle of it she found Ambrose, standing very quietly with his hands in +his pockets, staring at a picture which headed a bill pasted up against +a dead wall. + +“Look at the fellow! going to fly off from the sail of the windmill, +with a flourish of his long tail,” said Ambrose to a companion, as +Mildred came up. “I wonder what it means?” + +“Why, read what it means, man; where’s the use of your learning?” asked +the other. “I am sure those big black letters stare one in the face so, +they might of themselves almost teach a child to read.” + +“O, but I lost my learning while I was a shepherd. Mr. Waugh was right +mad with me the other day, because I could make nothing of the +directions of the parcels I had to sort out. I have been getting up my +reading a bit with Owen this week; but you may as well tell me what that +fellow is with the long tail. I shall be an hour making it out for +myself.” + +“Well, then: ’tis a little rogue of a devil going out to see the world; +and——” + +“O, Ambrose, the storm!” cried his sister. + +“Ay, the tree is down in the churchyard. I have been seeing it; and here +is a splinter I brought away. Me! here comes the rain. A fine pepper we +are going to have.” + +“I hope it will pepper hard enough. Farmer Mason’s barns are on fire. +Won’t you go and help?” + +“Who told you so?—Which barn?—How did it get on fire?” and many other +questions which might wait till the next day, had to be answered before +anybody would stir to get the key of the engine-house; and then, so many +youths ran foul of one another, and differed as to where the key was +deposited, and were each bent on being the one to tell the clergyman, +that Mildred had given the alarm at the paper-mill before anything +effectual was done. + +Mr. Waugh and Owen were together in the counting-house, looking at a +pamphlet which Mr. Waugh had just put into Owen’s hands. + +“That’s the almanack, I do believe,” cried Mildred. “O, I wanted so that +you should see that almanack.” + +Mr. Waugh explained (Owen being too much absorbed) that this was not an +almanack, but a tract which he was lending to Owen. Owen was going to +take it home, as he was very eager to read it; but Mr. Waugh feared +there would be little in it to amuse any of the family besides. It was +not so entertaining, he feared, as an almanack from the island: but he +hoped Mildred had nothing to do with those almanacks. It was not safe to +have anything to do with them, as they were against the law. It was all +very well for the island people to read them if they chose, as they were +not against the law there: but here people were liable to be put in +prison for them. “Put in prison!” exclaimed Mildred, forgetting for the +moment her errand. Yes;—Mr. Waugh knew of twenty-five people who had +been sent to gaol by one magistrate, in one month, for selling these +illegal almanacks. + +“I don’t believe Maude has sold one to anybody,” Mildred thought aloud. + +“Well; tell her (whoever she is) that she had better not. People should +never sell an almanack till they see that it bears a fifteen penny +stamp. The Government makes 27,000_l._ by the almanack-duty; and the +Government does not like to be cheated of the duty. It is but a small +sum, certainly, to punish so many people for; but let your friend Maude +take care of the law. No, no; your brother will tell you this is no +almanack; though it may tell him things nearly as wonderful as he could +find in any almanack. Bless me! the people are crying fire!” + +“O, I forgot.” And Mildred explained what she came for. The tract was +thrust into Owen’s pocket: the population of the mill was turned out to +help; and all Arneside was presently on the road to farmer Mason’s. + + + CHAPTER V. + + OWEN AND X. Y. Z. + + +From the moment that Owen saw the scrap of short-hand which his brother +and sister brought home from the hills, he had taken to the study of the +art of short-hand writing. Mr. Waugh had directed him to the clergyman +as the person most likely to give him information on the subject, and to +show him specimens. The clergyman acknowledged that the short-hand he +used was not the best yet invented; and that perhaps the best yet +invented might not be nearly so good as some one not yet devised. This +was enough for Owen to know, in order to excite him to enterprize. By +the help of his friends, he got possession of three or four kinds, made +his selection of what he considered the best, and introduced some +important improvements. He tried his success whenever he could find an +opportunity. Many were the curious conversations in the mill which he +took down for his own amusement; and many the sermons which, to his +mother’s amazement, he read over to her, word for word, on the Sunday +evenings, when she had heard them in the mornings. She was fast yielding +to the impression that her son Owen was now nearly as wise as the +clergyman. + +In the tract which Owen thrust into his pocket on the alarm of fire +being given, there was an article about short-hand. Mr. Waugh had +accidentally met with it at L——, and had brought it home for Owen. When +farmer Mason’s house and barns were all burnt to the ground, and no more +was to be done for him, Owen came back to the counting-house to study +this paper. Mr. Waugh could not help being amused at the eagerness with +which he devoured the arguments about dashes and dots, as if they had +been tidings of peace or war, or of the greatest political event of the +age. This was not the first time that Mr. Waugh had had occasion to +observe the animation with which scantily-informed persons read what is +accordant with their particular tastes and pursuits. He had seen a +farm-servant, who happened to be able to read, excited for a whole day +about some new way of managing a cow, or the best method of treating a +sheep’s fleece; and a galloon weaver drinking in the news of the +alteration of a farthing a gross in the wages of his manufacture. He had +witnessed the effect of such appropriate communications in rousing the +sluggish, in soothing the irritable, by turning the course of their +thoughts, and in improving the arts of life, by stimulating the powers +of the workmen. He had seen none more eager than Owen. + +“Sir,” said Owen, “I wonder whether I may ask if you know who this X. Y. +Z. is?” + +“Not I,” replied Mr. Waugh, smiling. “I only know that I found the +article lying on the bookseller’s counter; and that when I made a remark +upon it, Muggridge told me I might bring it for you. If you have +anything to say to X. Y. Z., cannot you say it without knowing who he +is?” + +“I—say anything to this person! In print! I should like—I am sure, if he +knew one thing that I could tell him——But, sir, do you really think they +would put in anything of mine, if I sent it?” + +“That would much depend on whether they thought it worth putting in. If +you have anything to say as good in the eyes of the editor as what X. Y. +Z. has said, I suppose the editor will be glad to print it: but I hardly +think such a tract as this can pay the writers.” + +“I never thought of being paid, sir! Let’s see where this editor is to +be found.” + +It was soon settled that as Ambrose would have to go to L—— in the +course of a few days, he might carry a packet from Owen to Muggridge, +the bookseller and stationer, who would forward it, at Mr. Waugh’s +request, to the editor’s office in London. How absorbed was Owen, from +that time, whenever he was not at his business in the mill! How silent +at meals! How careful in making his pens! It would be scarcely fair to +tell how many copies he made of his letter to X. Y. Z., nor how many +beginnings he invented and altered. At last, he had to finish in a great +hurry; for the morning was come when Ambrose must proceed to L, and +there was no telling how long it might be before he would have to go +again. + +“Now, Ambrose, you see this package of No. 2 has to go to Keely and +Moss’s.” + +“Very well,” said Ambrose, turning it over, as if to fix its dimensions +and appearance in his memory. + +“You can’t mistake it, for I have printed the direction instead of +writing it, that you may have no difficulty. See here! ‘Keely and Moss.’ +This little parcel you are to drop by the way, at Mrs. King’s, near the +toll-bar. Then, that other great package is for Bristow and Son,—you +know where. And then comes Muggridge’s. This, largest of all, is for +Muggridge; and pray see Mr. Muggridge himself, and give into his own +hands this little brown parcel with Mr. Waugh’s letter outside. What +makes you look so puzzled? It is easy enough to carry these to their +places, is not it?” + +“If I can carry in my head which is which. Let’s see: this big one——” + +“Read the directions, and you can’t mistake. Why should you burden your +memory when the names are before your eyes?” + +Ambrose showed that he could spell out the names, and suggested that, if +he should be at a loss, he might ask each person to whom he delivered a +package to help him to make out where the next was to go. He would try +to be sure to make no mistake about the little parcel and the letter for +Mr. Muggridge, and would not come home without a line of acknowledgment +from that important personage himself. + +Owen was so evidently fidgety during his brother’s absence, that his +friend Mr. Waugh thought it right to remind him that his fate did not +altogether depend on the parcel being safely delivered. There were so +few printed vehicles for what such multitudes of people have to say, +that a very great number must be disappointed in their wish to be heard. +He owned that this was very hard; he held that printed speech should be +as free as the words of men’s mouths, and as copious as it was possible +to make it. He had reason to desire this; and he suffered not a little +from the arrangements which prevented the possibility of its taking +place. + +“Because more paper would be wanted then, you mean, sir. I fancy, +indeed, we might make a fine business of it; if those troublesome +excisemen were out of our way. There is no saying how low you might +bring the price of your paper if it were not for them.” + +“For them, and for the law which gives them their office. The duty in +itself, though the worst part of the grievance, is bad enough,—from +thirty to two hundred per cent., and actually lower on the fine paper, +used by the few, than on the coarse, which would be used by the many if +it were not for the tax. It is the coarse which pays the two hundred per +cent., and the fine that pays thirty. It is bad enough that this duty +amounts to more than three times the wages of all the workpeople +employed in the manufacture.” + +“Do you really believe that to be the case, sir?” + +“It is pretty clearly made out, I fancy. There are within a few of 800 +paper-mills in the kingdom; and about 25,000 individuals employed about +the article; and the value of the paper annually produced is between a +million and a million and a half. The duty levied on this is about +770,000_l._;—a most enormous amount. The wages of the workpeople can +bear no kind of proportion to it. How much more paper we should make if +this burden was removed, so as to allow, as far as it goes, of freedom +of printed speech, one may barely imagine; or, if it is beyond our +imaginations, there is a person in my mill who can tell us. You know the +Frenchwoman there. She will inform you how cheaply her countrymen and +countrywomen can have their say through the press. The direct +interference of the government with the liberty of the press is, you +know, altogether a different question. Setting this aside, there is a +wonderful difference in the facilities enjoyed by the French and English +for the diffusion of their knowledge and opinions.” + +“Then I suppose others besides their paper-makers are better off than we +for being without the duty. There must be far more printing to do; and +that would occupy, besides the printers, more type-founders and +ink-makers; and then booksellers and stationers and binders and +engravers; then again, more carpenters and mill-wrights, and workmen of +every kind employed in making the machinery and materials. It must cause +a vast difference between that country and this, where we see a want of +books on the one hand, and a want of work on the other.” + +“Ay; your brother Ambrose and half-a-dozen more, standing by the hour +together before a placarded wall, for want of something better to read; +and scores of rag-sorters and vat-men applying to me for work which I +should be glad to give them if the paper-duty was off. It is really +grievous to think how few are employed in the diffusion of knowledge, +compared with the numbers who are occupied to much less useful purpose. +Look here. This is a list made out upon the best authority. See the +proportion which employments bear to one another here. On the one side— +_Literature_; on the other—_what_? + + Printers 342 Publicans 61,231 + Paper-makers 164 + Bookbinders 599 + Booksellers 327 + Stationers, (mostly 797 + booksellers) + Copper-plate Printers 663 + (including calico) + Printsellers 593 + ——— + 25,485 + +So, if we exclude the calico-printers, (who do not seem to have much to +do with literature) we have not so many as 25,000 persons employed in +literature, while we have above 61,000 who sell beer. If we add the +gin-shops to the number, what will be the proportion?” + +“I find, sir, that in Manchester they have 1000 gin-shops, and not so +much as one daily paper.” + +“It is the fact. And as long as members go into parliament to uphold +such a state of things, while they raise an outcry against beer-shops, +none such shall have a vote of mine. Which means, that I shall not vote +for Mr. Arruther, if there should be an election; as I hear there will +be.” + +Owen thought that gentlemen who upheld the paper-duty in parliament +might spare themselves the trouble of canvassing the paper-makers. He +understood that Mr. Arruther was one who had a terrible dread of the +people knowing too much. + +“He would scarcely speak to you, Owen, if he knew you were trying to get +a letter of your own into print. Well: don’t set your mind too much upon +it, and I wish you success with all my heart. If we should see this +letter of yours next week, I am sure we may trust you not to neglect +your business for the sake of becoming a mere scribbler in small +publications. I think you will be careful never to take up your pen but +when you really have something to say.” + +Owen was internally much surprised that Mr. Waugh had encouraged him in +his enterprize; for no one had a stronger horror than Mr. Waugh of the +effect of what he called “low publications” on the minds of his +work-people. The whole question lay in what Mr. Waugh considered to be +“low publications.” If he had meant low in price, it was hardly likely +that he would have brought this tract for Owen: but, as few publications +then happened to be low in price without being low in principle and +spirit, Owen’s surprise was natural. + +One night of the following week, he came home with a bright countenance; +and with a trembling hand, he laid down before his mother, as she sat at +work at her table, a pamphlet, very like the tract she had seen him +poring over for so many evenings. He judged rightly that though she +could not read, she would like to see the page where O. E. was printed. + +Long did she look at those black marks; and now, for the first time, +nurse Ede learned two letters of the alphabet. From that day, she never +passed the placarded wall in the village without picking out by her eye +all the great O-s and E-s in the bills there pasted up. She had now some +idea that her son’s letter must be altered by being in print. She had +heard it very often already, (without understanding much more about it +the last time than the first;) but she had now a humble request to +proffer,—to hear it again. + +“If you are not tired of reading it, my dear boy; and then, when you +have done, I think it is not too late for me to put on my bonnet, and go +and show it to the clergyman. But I am afraid you will be tired of +reading it, my dear?” + +There never was a more unfounded apprehension. It was not to be denied +that Owen had read it very often; but he did not yet feel himself tired. +There was no pretence, however, for his mother’s going to the clergyman. +Owen had met him; and had made bold to stop him, and show him what had +happened. + +When all the compliments, hearty, if not altogether enlightened, had +been paid; when Ambrose had relaxed in his stare upon his accomplished +brother; and nurse had dried her few tears and resumed her needle, and +all reasonable hope had been expressed that Mildred would not be long in +coming home, the happy young writer began to look forward to the next +week, when there would or would not be an answer from X. Y. Z. He had +already consulted Mr. Waugh on the probability of there being any answer +at all, if there was not next week. Mr. Waugh had little doubt of there +being some reply; Owen’s remarks being made in an amicable spirit, and +very courteously expressed; and if no reply should be ready by the next +week, he thought there would at least be a promise of one. Owen counted +the days as anxiously as in the times of his childhood, when +Christmas-day and the fair-day were in prospect. He would have been much +ashamed that even his mother should know how glad he was every night to +think that another day was gone; and yet, perhaps, if the truth had been +revealed, his mother was little less childish than himself. + +The reply appeared, on the earliest possible day; as courteous as Owen’s +own; not altogether agreeing with him, but modestly asking for further +explanation on two or three knotty points.—Who was happier than Owen? +His immediate success raised his ambition and his hopes to a height +which he had before reached only in imagination. He would write an +answer immediately; and when that was done, he would compose a work on +short-hand, giving an account of his own studies, and the improvements +he believed he had introduced into the art, with all the many ideas +which during his studies had gathered round the subject. A stray notion +or two about a universal language of written signs had entered his head. +He would pursue the idea, and try whether he could not do something +which would make him useful out of the limits of his native village. But +how was he to find the money to get a book printed? his careful mother +asked.—This he believed would be no difficulty: indeed, he hoped he +should make a great deal of money by it. He would show the probability. +In trying to do so, he proved something else,—that he had already +thought enough on the subject to have made inquiries as to the cost of +printing,—had actually seen a printer’s bill. He told his mother that +the paper for such a pamphlet as he meditated would cost 6_l._, +supposing five hundred copies to be printed. The printing would cost +about 14_l._; not more, for he should take care not to have any +alterations to make after it was once gone to press. This would be +20_l._; and the stitching would cost a few shillings more; and the +advertising the same, he supposed. Say, twenty guineas the whole. Then +if these five hundred copies sold for half-a-crown a-piece, there would +be 62_l._ 10_s._ to come in; above 40_l._ profit,—out of which he would +pay the bookseller for his trouble, and there would be a fine sum left +over; and he would tell his mother what he would do with it. He would—— + +She promised that she would hear all he had to say on this head when he +should bring Mr. Waugh’s assurance that he was likely to gain 40_l._ to +divide between himself and the bookseller, by writing a little book. +Meantime, she thought it too good a prospect to be a likely one; and +could not believe but that everybody would be writing books, if this was +the way money might be made by such a lad as her Owen. + +Owen thought it a little unreasonable in his mother to doubt him, when +he offered her actually a calculation of the expenses he had fully +ascertained, and when she had nothing to bring against his figures but +an impression of her own. However, he would send his rejoinder to the +editor, as before, and think the matter over again before he said +anything to Mr. Waugh. + +He did so, feeling pretty well satisfied that his second letter, (into +which he put some nicely-turned expressions of esteem and admiration for +his unknown correspondent) would bring X. Y. Z. and himself to a perfect +agreement: and anxious beyond measure for an answer to a query which he +proposed in his turn,—a query, upon the reply to which hung he could +scarcely say how much that was all-important to the art of short-hand +writing. But next week no tract arrived, though it had been positively +ordered; and twice over, to prevent mistake. It was so evident that poor +Owen was internally fretting and fuming, though outwardly no more than +grave, that Mr. Waugh kindly found it necessary to send Ambrose to L——, +and even to Muggridge’s shop. + +“Perhaps, sir,” said the young writer, “you would be kind enough to send +one line to Mr. Muggridge; and then he would write an answer, if there +should be any accident, instead of sending a message which Ambrose might +mistake, not knowing much about book matters. + +Ambrose brought back a written answer,—an answer fatal for the time to +Owen’s hopes. The tract was not to be had this week, nor at any future +time. It was suppressed. The publisher had been informed that if he went +on to issue it without putting a fourpenny stamp upon it, he would be +prosecuted. The publisher could not afford to sell it, if every copy +must cost him four-pence in addition to the other necessary expenses; +and still less could he afford to be prosecuted. The tract was +suppressed. + +“Well, well; that is all right enough,” observed Mr. Waugh. “The laws +must be obeyed, and I am sure I should have been the last person to +bring the publication to Arneside if I had dreamed of its being illegal. +I am sorry for you, Owen; but the laws must be obeyed.” + +Owen could not bear this; and he went home the first minute he could. +His mother was full of concern, and utterly unable to understand how the +case stood. She could not help having some hope that the tract would +come down, after all, sooner or later; and that Owen would surprise her +by bringing it in his hand some day. + +No: no hope of such an event! Here was an end of everything. A most +useful intercourse between minds which would now become once more +strangers was interrupted. The improvement of a useful art was stopped. +There was no saying what might not have arisen out of this +correspondence,—how much that would have been advantageous to the +individuals and to society was now lost through the interference of +these Stamp Commissioners. If they had let the publication go on so +long, raising hopes and justifying expectations, they might——Owen could +not finish what he was saying. He had supposed himself beyond the age of +tears; but he now found himself mistaken. He put his hand before his +eyes, and wept nearly as heartily as a girl when the spirit of her pet +lamb is passing away. + +This reverse had the effect of improving Owen’s eloquence. He grew very +fond of conversing both with the clergyman and with Mr. Waugh on the +impolicy and iniquity of restraining the intercourse of minds in +society, for the sake of a few taxes, so paltry in their amount as to +seem to crave to be drawn from some material or another of bodily food +rather than from the intellectual nourishment which is as much the +unbounded inheritance of every one that is born into the world as his +personal freedom. + +All who knew Owen were surprised at the extraordinary improvement he +seemed to have made within a short time, in countenance and manner, as +much as in his conversation. It became a common remark among the +neighbours, that there must be a proud feeling in nurse Ede’s mind +whenever she saw her manly and intelligent-looking son passing through +the village, with a gait and a glance so unlike those of his former +school-companions, who seemed to have fallen back into a pretty close +resemblance to those who had never learned their A, B, C. Some of Owen’s +sayings spread, and were admired more than if they had arrived from an +unknown distant quarter. When the housewife lighted her evening lamp, +her husband told how Owen had said that it was bad enough to tax the +light that visits the eyes, but infinitely worse to tax the light that +should illumine the immortal mind; and the paper-makers quoted him over +their work, saying that no taxation is so injurious as that of the raw +material; and that books are the raw material of science and art. For +Owen’s sake all were glad, for that of the village all were sorry, when +it was made known that Mr. Waugh had resolved to part with his young +friend, in order to give him opportunity for further improvement and +advancement than could be within his reach at Arneside, and had procured +him a good situation in Mr. Muggridge’s establishment at L——. + +Nurse spoke not a word in the way of objection. Such an idea as her +boy’s leaving his native village had never occurred to her; but she bore +the surprise and consequent separation very firmly. She happily felt a +secret hope that Ambrose would now rise into Owen’s place at the mill, +and in the society of Arneside; and really, when she saw how he was +getting on, in quickness and in the power of reading, she began to +believe that it was not yet too late for Ambrose to become a great man. + + + CHAPTER VI. + + PRESS AND POST-OFFICE. + + +Owen promised, on leaving Arneside, not to forget the old place and +his old friends; and though he soon became a prosperous man, he lost +none of his interest in those who were proud of being regarded by him. +Reports arrived of the importance of the young Arneside scholar in L——; +in that large and busy town, which was like London to the +imaginations of the villagers. Owen was Secretary to the Mechanics’ +Institute there, in course of time, after having won two or three +prizes, and introduced the study and practice of his favourite +short-hand. A straggler from Arneside had met him in the streets of L— +—; had been with him when he was stopped by three people within a +hundred yards, all eager to ask him something about the newspaper,—the +Western Star; and had finally watched him into the hotel when, well +dressed in black, he had passed in with several gentlemen who were +attending a public dinner there. Owen must have grown into something +very like a gentleman to be attending a public dinner, and to be +consulted three times within a hundred yards about a newspaper. One of +Owen’s tokens of remembrance was this weekly newspaper, a copy of +which he sent down regularly to the landlord of the Rose, Mr. Chowne, +to be circulated through the village when it had been read in the +tap-room. This was considered a very handsome present; and, indeed, +some of his careful friends, remembering that sevenpence-halfpenny a +week is 1_l._ 12_s._ 6_d._ a year, consulted together about sending +him word that he was too generous, and that they were scrupulous about +accepting so expensive a remembrance from him. His mother, however, +heard of this, and put an end to all scruples by expressing her +confidence that her son would do nothing which he could not properly +afford; and it afterwards transpired from some quarter that Owen had +told somebody that this newspaper cost him nothing, an intimation +which certain of the village politicians interpreted as meaning that +he wrote the whole of it. From the moment that their version of the +story was adopted, the eagerness with which the “Western Star” was +received was redoubled; and those who could not read listened with +open mouths while those who could told the news, and magnified as they +went along. The gossip about the Turkish Sultan and his Ministers now +became interesting, as well as the speculations about the magnetic +pole; and there was no end to the astonishment at Owen’s learning, +which seemed to extend from courts and cabinets down to razor-strops +and Macassar oil. No day of the week passed without his being +pronounced a wonderful young man. + +The most incomprehensible thing to the whole village was that Owen sent +down warnings in his letters, more than once, that the “Western Star” +must not be trusted as if it told nothing but truth. Its reports were +declared to be often unfair, and its politics wavering and unprincipled. +There was some talk in L—— of trying to get up another newspaper; and it +would be a pity if (as was too likely) it could not be done; as an +opposition might improve the “Western Star.” This declaration seemed to +exhibit an unparalleled modesty and disinterestedness on the part of +Owen. Nobody would have found out that his newspaper was not perfectly +fair, if he had not himself said so. + +One motive to such transcendent virtue might be discerned. The reports +which, Owen said, were the least of all to be trusted, were those of Mr. +Arruther’s speeches and conduct in the House. Owen was known to be no +admirer of Mr. Arruther as a Member of Parliament; and, that the +“Western Star” had always praised this gentleman, and called upon his +constituents for gratitude, was supposed to be owing to the laws of good +breeding, which might forbid any public blame of so rich and grand a +person as Mr. Arruther. But Owen’s private letters spoke very plainly of +the Member; of his idleness about his duty; of his prejudice in favour +of the aristocracy; and of his constancy in opposing every measure which +could tend to the relief and enlightenment of the working classes. He +wished that he could give his old friends the means of knowing what +grounds he had for saying all this; but the London papers took little +notice of Mr. Arruther, and nothing would be found against him in the +“Western Star.” He must beg any of the Arneside people who had votes to +try to ascertain how Mr. Arruther had voted on such and such questions, +and make up their minds for themselves whether they were properly +represented. + +On the days when the “Western Star” arrived, man after man dropped in at +the tap-room at the Rose, to try for his turn, or to listen to any one +who might be reading aloud. Nurse would never be persuaded to go and +listen too, though a seat of honour would have been awarded her, by the +window in summer, and near the fire in winter. She felt that she had +rather wait; and a rule was made that she should have the first loan of +the paper. Such was the rule, if it had but been kept. But when she had +her proper turn, it did not always happen that Ambrose was ready to +read, or that she was at home that evening; and she never chose to +detain the treasure beyond a single day, when so many better scholars +than herself were longing for it. And there was some underhand work +about this matter. The newspaper had sometimes disappeared from the +table at the Rose; which happened because some impatient person had +bribed the pot-boy to let him or her have it first, or had slipped in +through the open door, and carried it off: and then, by the time it came +round to nurse’s cottage, it was so thumbed and dirtied and torn at all +the creases, that poor scholars read it at a great disadvantage; so +that, altogether, Nurse was not much enlightened by the “Western Star.” +Yet, the first thing that she remembered on waking, every Saturday +morning, was that this was the day of the arrival of the newspaper; and +Ambrose was sure to be reminded of it by some gentle hint during +breakfast. + +He went in at the Rose, one Saturday evening, to see what was doing. +There sat Farmer Mason, looking more shabby than ever; as he had done +each time that Ambrose had seen him since the fire. He came to learn if +the advertisement and list of subscriptions in his favour were in the +“Star” to-day. Nothing like them appeared; and he was drowning his +disappointment in a third glass of spirit and water. Some Job’s +comforters were present who asked him how he could expect that his +friends should consume the little money they had obtained for him in +advertising; and added what they had heard about the unwillingness of +many people to assist a man who had shown himself so imprudent as not to +insure. Mason did not boast of any more patience than Job. + +“As for the insuring,” said he, “it is all very well for the rich to +talk. They insure themselves; having several properties which they make +to secure one another; it being the last thing likely that all or many +should be burnt down. But the very cause which prevents their insuring +should teach them to excuse us poor men for not doing it.” + +“Besides,” observed the landlord, “there are so many country people that +do not think of insuring against fire! Indeed, I scarcely know a farmer +that has done it; and why should Mason act differently from his +neighbours?” + +“And why don’t the farmers insure? Why does not every body insure?” +cried Mason. “Because of the tax which the rich escape paying by making +one estate insure another. As long as the government is to have 200 per +cent. upon fire insurances, there will be plenty of people to keep me in +countenance for what some few are pleased to call my neglect.” + +“What business has the government to interfere with a man, when he is +trying to provide against misfortune?” asked the shoemaker of the +village. “It is a direct reward to carelessness to tax carefulness. And +200 per cent. too!” + +“Yes: 200 per cent. If the premium is calculated at 1_s._ 6_d._, the +government imposes a 3_s._ stamp. If you go and insure 1000_l._ worth of +goods at 15_s._, we’ll say, you must pay a duty of 30_s._ to government. +Where is the wonder that a man would rather trust to Providence to keep +the fire from his roof than submit to such a tax? The true matter of +wonder is, that any government could ever shut its eyes to this!” + +“Something has happened about sea-insurances which might have opened +their eyes, as I know from my brother, who is now master of a ship from +the next port,” observed the landlord. “The last time he was here, he +told me what I had no idea of before. While we have more and more ships +passing in and out, the duty on sea-policies is falling off. Where the +business transacted has increased one-fifth, the duty has fallen off +two-fifths: that is to say, our merchants and ship-masters go and insure +in Holland, and in Germany, and in the United States of America, or any +respectable place where the stamp is not so high as in England. The +government might as well take off this tax at once, with a good grace; +for, in a little while, all the insurers will be driven across the +water. Since the duty will soon yield nothing at all, they may as well +let us keep a useful branch of business among us, instead of giving it +away to foreigners.” + +“I am sure,” said poor Mason, sipping from his glass, and recurring to +the faults which had been found with him,—“I am sure it is no +unreasonable thing of me to look for another advertisement or two, +considering how little can be done by one. Only think how many people +may chance to miss seeing the paper that once, or may overlook that +particular advertisement, when they might be ready enough to give, if it +did but come often enough before their eyes. And I suppose it cannot +cost a great deal to print ten or twelve lines; and when once it stands +ready for printing, I suppose they charge less each time, as is done in +other cases where there is less charged in proportion to the greatness +of the custom.” + +The landlord knew that this was the way in America. His brother was in +the habit of advertising the departure of his ship from an American +port. He paid for his advertisement (which happened to be a short one) +2_s._ 2_d._ for one insertion; for 3_s._ 3_d._ for two; and only 6½_d._ +more each time, for as long as he chose. An advertisement of eight +lines, which would have cost him two guineas in England at the end of a +week, cost him in America only 5_s._ 5_d._ It is the advertisement duty +which makes an advertisement as expensive the twentieth time as the +first in England; and, bad as the duty is altogether, this is the worst +part of it; for, as Mr. Mason was saying, repetition is all in all in +advertising. + +“There is talk of taking off a good part of the advertisement duty,”[A] +observed the shoemaker. + +----- + +Footnote A: + + Since done. + +----- + +“There will be less use in taking off a part than the government +expects,” replied the landlord, “for the very reason that the principle +of an advertisement duty interferes with the lowering of the price on +repetition. If the government now make, as they say, 160,000_l._ a year +by this tax, they would find their profit in taking it off altogether +by——” + +“The increase of the paper duty, from the multitude of advertisements +there would be.” + +“That would be true; but I would have the paper duty off too; and so I +should look to another quarter for the compensation. Much more than +160,000_l._ a year would drop into the treasury from the increase of +traffic of every kind which must happen in consequence of freedom of +advertising. Our greater traffic of late years has not yielded more +advertisement duty. We had better try now whether giving up that duty +would not cause greater traffic, and so an increase of duties upon other +things.” + +“One might easily find out,” observed somebody, “whether the Americans +advertise more than we do, from having no duty to pay. That would be the +test.” + +“The only test; and what is the fact? There are half as many again of +advertisements in the daily papers of New York alone, as in all the +newspapers of Great Britain and Ireland.” + +“Without London. You leave out the great London papers.” + +“Not I. I include the great daily papers of London. We have twice as +many people as the United States, and more than twice as much business; +yet we have only one million of advertisements in a year, and the United +States have ten millions—that is to say, their advertising is to ours as +ten to one. And when you further consider, as my brother says, how many +of the Americans are busy on the land instead of in trade, and how many +more we have occupied in trade, from which the greater part of +advertisements come, it is hardly too much to say that their advertising +is to ours as forty to one. Depend upon it, we are under the mark when +we say that the duty suppresses nineteen out of twenty of those +advertisements which would be sent to the newspapers if we had the same +freedom as the Americans; and that no mere reduction will prevent the +suppression of millions which it is for everybody’s advantage should +appear.” + +“Yes, indeed; and why we should be compelled to pay to the Government +for making known that we have something to sell ten miles off, when a +shopkeeper may freely put a bill in his window to tell what may be had +within, it is not altogether easy to see.” + +“There is one thing easy to see,” observed Joy, the builder; “and that +is the figure that people make of our walls, sticking them all over with +bills. I have more trouble than enough with pulling them down from the +end of my master’s house; and as sure as I next pass that way, I find it +all covered over again with red and black letters, and ugly pictures. My +master calls it making a newspaper of his gable. And as for the +chalking,—it is said that men and boys are hired to go about chalking +all the walls in the country; and before ever our mortar is dry, there +is some unsightly scrawl or another on the new red bricks. ’Tis too much +for the temper of any builder. For my part, I make no scruple of +threshing any one that I catch with the chalk in his hand, man or boy.” + +Ambrose stood up for the practice of plastering the walls with bills; he +having been often amused, and even led to read, by a tempting display of +this kind. But it did not take long to convince him that he might be +better amused, and more comfortably advanced in his reading, if he could +but be supplied at his own home with a sufficiency of pictures and +articles to study. He saw that it was pleasanter to sit down at his +mother’s deal-table for such purposes, than to stand in a broiling sun +or drizzling rain, looking up till the back of his neck ached like that +of a rheumatic old man. + +Mason was at first equally disposed to advocate the chalking. He had +himself sent his poor boys about to represent on every conspicuous brick +surface within five miles, a large house in flames, with the inscription +underneath, “Remember Farmer Mason and his large young family, burnt out +of house and home.” He believed that he owed nearly as much to this as +to having employed Grice the crier to bawl his case through two or three +parishes. + +The shoemaker hoped that fellow Grice did not take anything from Farmer +Mason for doing him this service. Grice was known to be prospering in +the world; and it was a cruel thing to take money from a ruined man, the +same as from a fortunate one. Mason sighed, shook his head, and applied +himself to his glass. Perhaps the landlord winced under the last remark, +conscious of being now actually running up a score against Mason for +drink, which he would never have thought of tasting if he had not been +tempted to the Rose, for the sake of seeing the advertisement of his +calamity. To have defended Grice would have been going rather too far; +but Chowne ventured to show that Grice was no worse than some other +people. + +The Government, he said, took large sums of money from all distressed +people whose calamities are advertised. When there was a famine in +Ireland, several thousand pounds of the money subscribed for the relief +of the famishing went to the Government in the shape of +advertisement-duty; and when the floods of the last autumn had laid +waste whole districts in Scotland, the profit which the Treasury made by +the announcement would have rebuilt hundreds of the cottages which were +swept away. And this profiting was not only on rare and great occasions. +There was not a poor servant out of place who had not to pay to the +Government for the chance of getting a service; and to pay exactly the +same as the nobleman who wishes to sell an estate of ten thousand +a-year, and to whom a pound spent in advertisement-duty is of less +consequence than a doit would be to the servant out of place. + +Mason sighed, and said that the thing most plain to him was that he was +destined to be stripped of all he had, since there was a pluck on every +hand,—first the fire, and then Grice, and the Government, and everybody. +But though he was disappointed in what he came to see in the newspaper, +he did not mean to go away without seeing it; and so he would trouble +the landlord for another glass of spirit and water. It would be hard if +he did not see the paper now, as he had no money to pay the pot-boy, +like some people, for a sight of it. He did wonder, and he was not the +only one that wondered, that the landlord chose to make a profit of what +was sent him as a present,—taking one little advantage from one, and +another from another; for nobody supposed the pot-boy put in his own +pocket all the good things he got every week. + +Chowne wondered what his friend Mason meant. If people chose to make +presents to his servants, it was nothing to him: but,—as for his making +anything by the paper,—he could tell the present company, if they did +not know it already, that there was a law against letting newspapers. He +should now take care to tell his pot-boy the very words of the law,— +“that any hawker of newspapers, who shall let any newspaper to hire to +any person, or to different persons, shall forfeit the sum of five +pounds for each offence.” If, after this, the lad should choose to run +the risk, it would be at his own peril; and nobody would now suppose +that a prudent man like himself would run the risk of being fined five +pounds, a dozen times over, every week. + +O, but that must be an old, forgotten law, that nobody thought of +regarding. Were there no newsmen in London, letting out newspapers at +twopence an hour? + +The law was not so very old, Chowne said. Our good King George the Third +had been reigning just thirty years when it was passed. If it was +disregarded in London, he supposed people had their reasons for +disregarding it; and he was far from wishing to defend that bit of law; +but, for his own sake, he should not break it. So, perhaps, friend +Hartley, who had been getting the paper by heart, apparently, while the +others were talking, would have the goodness either to read aloud, or to +hand the sheet over to somebody who would. + +The reader had been anxious to see what was said about Arruther’s being +absent during two nights,—the most important of any in the session to +some of his constituents,—and voting with the majority on another +question, after having led people to suppose he was of an opposite +opinion. But this paper was really ridiculous in its support of that +man. Here were a hundred reasons for his doing as he had done; and not +one good one. Hartley had no idea of being gulled as this paper would +gull him, just for the sake of whitewashing Mr. Arruther; and he began +to read what the paper said. A good deal of argumentation followed, +which, however animating and wholesome it might be to the persons +engaged, was dull and useless to Ambrose, from his knowing nothing about +the subject discussed. Seeing no chance of the party arriving at the +accident and murder parts in any decent time, he determined to go home +and tell his mother that they must wait, and that he did not know +whether the paper was entertaining or not, this time. All were too busy +leaning over the table and listening, to take any notice of him when he +went away; and, as he never drank anything, Chowne did not consider +himself called upon to bestow more than a slight nod on Ambrose, as the +lad made his rustic bow in passing out. + +Whom should he meet at the next corner but Ryan? Ambrose’s wits were +certainly brightened by some means or another; for he bethought himself +of the use Ryan might be of to poor Mason, by serving as a walking +advertisement of his misfortune. The moment he had heard that the +rag-merchant was going to offer his company and his news to old Jeffery +to-night, instead of always troubling nurse Ede to entertain him, +Ambrose blurted out the story of the fire, the subscription, the +rapacity of the Government in regard to advertisements, and the +advantage it would be to Mason if the rag-merchant would take up his +cause, and beg for him through the country. + +“Ay; that’s the way,” said Ryan. “Always something for me to do as I +travel the country! However, I’ll do it with all my heart. My errands +are not all begging ones, as I will show you. I give as well as beg +sometimes. Here, take this. This is Owen’s tract (I mean the tract that +was put down) come to life again. I’ll give it to you this once; and if +you can get anybody to join you in buying it at twopence a-week by the +time I come again, I can order it for you. Not that you can have it +weekly: the carriage would cost too much; but——” + +“It can come by post, can’t it? The ‘Western Star’ always comes by post, +and no charge.” + +“Very likely; but this is not altogether like the ‘Western Star’ or +other newspapers that come by post, as you will find when you look at +it. But you can have four numbers together, once a-month, when the +monthly things come for the clergyman and Mr. Waugh. Give my love to +nurse, and tell her rags are down. She must take a penny a pound less if +she has any to sell. The rags from the Mediterranean and the east are +not all wanted, and the American paper-makers have come here to buy; and +while that is the case, mine will be but a bad business. Our +paper-making is a joke to theirs; and, for my part, if something does +not happen soon to quicken the demand for rags. I think I shall give up +going my rounds, and bid you all good bye.” + +“No: don’t say that, Mr. Ryan. We should be sorry not to see you twice +a-year, as we have done as long as I can remember.” + +“Well; if you wish to help my trade, and so go on seeing me, do your +best to spread this publication. If you will believe me, there are ten +thousand a-week circulating of it already; and that requires a good deal +of paper,—see!” + +Ambrose was approaching, as slowly as he could put one foot before the +other, the fifth time that his mother looked out for him from her door. + +“So, here you are, my dear; and the paper, too!—and a picture at top of +it to-day! That’s something new. I wonder whether it be Owen’s drawing. +He could draw if he was to try, I’m sure.” + +“’Tis not Owen’s paper, mother; but a much finer one, and not costing +scarcely a quarter as much as Owen’s.” + +And he told how he had got it; and helped his mother to make out the +pictures, as she looked at them over his shoulder. + +“Who is that lady, I wonder now,” said nurse, “with her hands fastened, +poor thing! and a great arm out of a cloud whipping her? What fine +feathers she has in her queer hat! and what a whip! with a man’s face at +the end of every cord.” + +“That is Britannia and her task-masters, mother. Those are her +task-masters,—those faces in the whip; and they are our rulers: there +are their names. And below there is—‘Many a tear of blood has Britain +shed under those tyrants that make themselves a cat-o’-nine-tails, to +bare the bones and harrow the feelings of the sons of industry.’ How +cruel!—Then there is—here, in this corner——” + +“A great chest all on fire. I see.” + +“A printing-press, that is; but what the great light round about it +means, I don’t know; but it does not seem to be burning away. Then, +opposite, there is a black person, with an odd foot and a long tail; and +see what is flying off from the end of his tail!” + +“A crown, I do believe; and what is the other?” + +“A mitre. The lines below are— + + ‘My tail shall toss both Church and State, + And leave them, shortly, to their fate.’ + +And do look behind! There is the church window, and two men hanging. I +think the fat one is the parson. Who can the other be?” + +“But, my dear, I do not like this picture at all. It seems to me very +cruel and wicked.” + +“Well, let us look at the next. Here is a man that has tumbled into the +kennel; and a woman with a child in her arms falling over him; and +nobody helps them up; but all the boys in the street are pointing at +them. What is written over behind there? ‘Gin palace.’ Ah! those people +are drunk, poor creatures!” + +“My dear, don’t say ‘poor creatures!’ for fear I should think you pity +them. They deserve all that may happen to them; and I hope the paper +says so.” + +The paper said something very like it. It told the story of a man who +had beaten his wife, and turned her out of a gin-shop when she had +followed him there, with her infant in her arms. In his drunken rage, he +had pushed the door so violently as to squeeze the infant in the +door-way, and cause its death. This was related very plainly, and +followed by some forcible remarks on the disgusting sin of drunkenness. +Mrs. Ede was much pleased with all this, and with more which Ambrose +read when she had lighted her candle, and sat down to darn his +stockings. There was a story of a master who was kind enough to offer to +make another trial of a run-away apprentice; and the rebuke which a +magistrate gave to a mean-spirited wretch who would have frightened his +little daughter into telling a lie to save him from justice. Then came a +short account of what was doing at the North Pole; and afterwards, +directions how to keep meat from spoiling in hot weather. In the midst +of this, Ambrose stopped, quite tired out. When he came to “wiped with a +dry cloth,” his breath failed him, and the lines swam before his eyes. +He had never before read so much in one day. Nurse was sorry not to hear +what should be done next with the meat; but she hoped Ambrose would be +able to go on to-morrow. Meantime, she spent a few minutes in glancing +over what was to her an expanse of hieroglyphics. + +“Ah! here is a song!” cried she. “This is the way the song was printed +in Owen’s paper.—Never mind, my dear. You have done quite enough. Never +mind the song now.” + +Ambrose could not help trying, and for some time in vain, to make out +this bit of apparent poetry. It turned out at last to be a list of +country agents and their abodes: a list so long as to fill a quarter of +a column.—When the laugh at this mistake was done, nurse began to tell +her son what a very happy mother she considered herself. It was a pity, +to be sure, that poor Mildred did not get home in time to hear all that +her mother had heard; and, indeed, nurse sometimes wondered whether her +girl did not stay out later than she need; and whether it was a fancy of +her own that Mildred was not so fond of being at home as she used to be. +But still, everybody knew Mildred to be a very steady, virtuous girl, +unlike two or three at the mill who might be mentioned; and, while many +mothers were anxious about their lads, not knowing whether they passed +their evenings at the public-house, or playing thimble-rig in the lane, +or going into the woods after dark with a gun, nurse was wholly at ease +about her boys. Owen was doing honourably, which partly made up for his +being at a distance; and here was Ambrose improving his learning by +finding out for her how meat should be kept in hot weather, and meeting +with awful lessons about drunkenness. It made her feel so obliged to +him! and she knew he had a pleasure in delighting her: a sort of +pleasure that poor Mrs. Arruther and her son seemed never to have had +together, for all his fine education. And there were many much humbler +people than the Arruthers who were not near so happy as nurse. If she +could but make out whether anything heavy lay on her girl’s mind——But +the present was not a time to speak of the only great trouble she had. +It would be ungrateful to do so to-night.—There was one more thing she +should like to know, however; and that was why, when this paper blamed +violence and falsehood in men that got drunk, and in bad fathers, it was +itself so violent about our rulers, and told so much that she thought +must be false about them. She had no wish to find fault with anything +that Ryan had brought; but she had rather think the paper mistaken than +believe that our rulers were so cruel as it declared. + +Ambrose looked again at the pictures; thought the people who wrote the +paper must be pretty sure what they were about before they printed such +things; feared that the rulers and the church must be a bad set; and +reminded his mother how virtuous this publication had proved itself +about gin. + +If nurse had known all, she would not have felt the surprise she had +ventured to express; and if Ambrose had known all, he would not have +concluded that because some vices were condemned and some virtues +honoured in one page, the next must be pure in the morals of its +politics. This newspaper was an unstamped, and therefore an illegal, +publication. It was obnoxious to the law, and therefore an enemy to the +law, and to all law-makers. Moral in its choice and presentation of +police reports, and of late occurrences of other kinds, judicious in its +selections from good books, and useful in those of its original articles +which had nothing to do with politics, it was cruel, malicious, and +false in its manner of treating whatever related to law-makers. It was +what in high places is called inflammatory. Its tendency was, not to +enlighten its readers about the faults of their representatives, errors +in the practice of government, and the evils arising from former faults +and errors; but to persuade the people that rich men must be wicked men; +that the industrious must be oppressed; and that the way to remedy +everything was to strip the rich and hang the idle. Its object, in +short, was to make its readers hate an authority which it chose to +disobey.—If no injurious authority had interfered with the establishment +of this paper, (which establishment it had not availed to prevent,) the +political part of this paper would have been as moral as the rest. There +is no abstract and peculiar hatred in men’s minds against rulers, any +more than there is against poets, or jewellers, or colonels in the army, +or any other class; and no one class would have been selected for +reprobation here, if there had been no provocation, on the one side, to +defiance on the other. If there had been no fear of punishment for +saying anything at all, there would have been no temptation to say what +was unjust and cruel, to the injury of every party concerned. But, for +the sake of the four-penny stamp, a temperate and very useful +publication had been put down; and there had arisen from its ruins,— +another, not like itself, but seasoned high with whatever could most +exalt the passions, and thereby enlist the prejudices of the multitude +in its support against the law. This could have taken place only under +an unwise and oppressive law; unwise in affording facilities for its own +evasion; and oppressive in debarring the people from an immeasurable +advantage, for the sake of a very small supposed profit to the treasury. + +As Ambrose unfolded the paper, on being satisfied with what he had seen +of two sides of it, two or three little papers fell out, and fluttered +down to the ground. They contained a puff of the paper, and were to be +circulated by him, no doubt. + + “_The best and cheapest Newspaper ever published in England._ + + “THE TWOPENNY TREAT, AND PEOPLE’S LAW-BOOK. + + “It shall abound in Police intelligence, in Murders, Rapes, Suicides, + Burnings, Maimings, Theatricals, Races, Pugilism, and all manner of + ‘moving accidents by flood and field.’ In short, it will be stuffed + with every sort of devilment that will make it sell. For this reason, + and to make it the poor man’s treat, the price is only two-pence (not + much more than the price of the paper.) So that even to pay its way, + the sale must be enormous. With this, however, we shall be satisfied. + Our object is, not to make money, but to beat the Government. Let the + public only assist us in this, and we promise them the cheapest and + best paper for the money that was ever published in England. + + OBSERVE! _s._ _d._ + + Advertisements under six lines 1 6 + + Each additional line 0 2 + + Published by E. Hamilton; and sold by all + courageous Venders of the unstamped.” + +Why did not Ambrose read this announcement to his mother? Why did he +not, the next day, give her some of the benefit of the other two pages +of this paper? If nurse had been able to read for herself about the +“devilment” with which the publication was to be stuffed, and about the +nature of the contract between masters and workmen, she might, by a few +words of parental wisdom and love, have saved her son and herself from +future intolerable misery. One grief lay heavy at her heart already; a +grief which had its cause in the gross ignorance of one of her children. +Another was in store, arising from the imperfect knowledge and mistaken +credulity of her second son. In the enlightenment of the eldest lay her +only security for her maternal peace. + + + CHAPTER VII. + + THE POLICY OF M.Ps. + + +Owen’s visions had not all been realized. He had not yet got his thirty +or forty pounds by publishing what he had to say on short-hand and +universal language. He had not even published at all. This arose, first, +from certain difficulties represented to him by Mr. Muggridge, and fully +confirmed by a London bookseller; and, next, from his having grown +modest as he grew enlightened. He was much less confident at L—— than he +had been at Arneside, that he could say anything very new and very +valuable on a universal language. + +The bookseller’s first difficulty was about Owen’s remarks being +published as a pamphlet. He was right enough in saying that the young +man did not know what he was about in wishing to publish a pamphlet. In +order to intimate the risk, Mr. Muggridge told him that not one pamphlet +in fifty pays the cost of its publication; and showed him how clearly +impossible it was that any other result could take place. Pamphlets were +triple taxed; and by what means could so small an article pay its +expense of production, three kinds of tax, and the trouble of the +publisher, and leave any surplus for the author? First, the paper was +heavily excised; then there was the pamphlet duty of three shillings per +sheet; and then the advertisement duty. And the risk of not selling the +whole must not be forgotten. The duty must be paid upon every copy of +the largest edition, before a single one was sold; and if no more than +twenty were purchased, and all the rest went as waste paper to the +tobacconist, there would be no drawback allowed: not even time given to +see whether there would be any sale or not. There were no bonded +warehouses, where books might be lodged between their manufacture and +their sale. To issue a pamphlet must be a speculation of unavoidable +hazard—— + +To all but the Government, who makes sure of the taxes beforehand. + +To all but the Government! And what did the Government get by it? The +practice tended to the suppression of pamphlets, and not to the profit +of the treasury. The very oppressive pamphlet duty yielded to the +Government 970l. a-year. For this mighty sum were hundreds of +intelligent men kept silent who might have uttered thousands of opinions +and millions of facts which would have been useful to their race, but +who had neither power nor inclination to issue in expensive volumes +thoughts which would have been worth setting forth in cheap tracts. For +this mighty sum were thousands of rational beings subjected to that +restriction of commerce which is the most to be deprecated, and the +least capable of defence,—the commerce of thought. What would be said to +regulations of commerce which should practically prohibit a silver +coinage, while it allowed but a very minute supply of copper? What would +be thought of the injury to those who had it not in their power to deal +with gold? Yet in the far more important interchange of knowledge and +opinion, this monstrous virtual prohibition subsisted for the sake of +the 970_l._ a-year which it brought to the treasury! + +Owen could scarcely believe that the produce of the tax could be so +small till it was explained what its attendant expenses were. Fifty +prosecutions in the year cannot be conducted for nothing; and the +average of prosecutions in a year for the neglect of payment of the +pamphlet duty was fifty. In some years, the average of prosecutions had +been so much larger, or the horror of the tax had so availed in +deterring from that mode of publication, that the Government had +sustained an actual loss of 200_l._ under that head of duty. If Owen +meant to publish at all, he had better swell his matter into a good +thick volume—a ten shilling octavo, which would escape the pamphlet +duty, and cost no more in advertising than an eighteen-penny pamphlet. + +And what chance was there of his making it worth his while to publish a +book? Owen would know. Little chance enough of his being recompensed for +his toil, and rewarded for his talent; though he might perhaps recover +the money he must lay out. If he printed five hundred copies, the +expenses would be about 170_l._, of which 30_l._ would be tax of one +kind or another. Then eleven copies must be given to various +institutions—— + +But Owen did not mean to give any away, except two or three copies to +old friends. + +He must. There was a law by which eleven copies of every work entered at +Stationers’ Hall must be presented to institutions where they are as +sure to lie unread as if they were already the waste paper they will be +some time or other. The Universities of Oxford and Cambridge are among +the eleven favoured places: those rich Universities, which are exempted +from that paper-duty which must be paid by every little tradesman who +issues a hand-bill about his stock, and every labourer who buys his +daughter a Bible when she goes out to service, or puts half a quire of +foolscap into her hand that she may write sometimes to her parents. +Well; these expenses being all paid, there would remain to be divided +between the author and the publisher, when every copy was sold, neither +more nor less than 20_l._ That is to say, the treasury would take +35_l._, and the author and publisher together 20_l._, and this in the +best possible case,—that of every copy being sold. + +This statement disposed Owen to refrain from becoming an author at +present,—at least till he had asked an experienced London publisher +whether Mr. Muggridge did not labour under some mistake. The answer from +London was that Mr. Muggridge’s statement was perfectly correct; and +added that, in this country, not one-fourth of the books published pay +their expenses, leaving out of view all recompense of the author’s +ability and industry; that only one in eight or ten can be reprinted +with advantage; and that, in the case of the most successful works,— +works of which the very largest number is printed and sold,—the duties +invariably amount to more than the entire remuneration of the author. + +From this moment Owen applied himself to make some other use of his +short-hand than publishing it. He became the principal reporter for the +“Western Star.” + +Now a power came into his hands of whose nature and extent he had not +formed any conception before he made trial of his new occupation. Upon +him it now depended how much the good people of L—— and a wide district +round should know of the law proceedings, of the public meetings and +dinner speechifyings that took place in the town and neighbourhood. Upon +Owen it depended whether the misdemeanours of certain citizens should be +held up as a warning, or obligingly concealed; whether the corporation +should be allowed to take its own way in quiet, or subjected to be +watched by the townspeople; whether one side or both of a political +question should be presented. There was no competition, as the “Western +Star” was the only newspaper in the place; and nothing could be easier +than it now would have been to Owen to influence the opinions of the +whole reading public in L—— as to all matters of general concern, by his +own. Nothing could be easier than to give his own view of any question +discussed at a public meeting. It was only laying down his pencil, and +folding his arms till a speaker had done, and then making a note of his +first and last sentence; while the best speakers on the other side had +their best sayings put at length, and to the best advantage. As it was +impossible to issue the whole of what every body said, the most natural +process seemed to be to print what Owen liked most, and must therefore +think the most worth carrying away. Owen himself felt that this was an +unreasonable and pernicious power to be in the hands of any man; and, +earnestly as he desired not to abuse it, he was so well aware that every +man must have his peculiar tastes and political partialities,—he saw so +clearly that no one report of his in the “Western Star” was in matter +precisely what it would have been if prepared by any one else, that it +offended his judgment and his conscience to be left in a state of +irresponsibility in the discharge of a duty of such extreme importance. +He felt that responsibility to any one mind was out of the question. If +Mr. Muggridge, or any other censor, had been set over him, the only +difference would have been that the public would have seen affairs +through Mr. Muggridge’s medium, instead of through Owen’s: but there was +another kind of responsibility to which he would fain have been +subjected; and that was, public opinion. If he had known that other +papers beside the “Western Star” would also publish the proceedings he +was reporting, he must not only have avoided any gross act of +suppression or embellishment, but must have vied with other reporters in +selecting whatever was most weighty, by whomsoever said, and on whatever +aspect of a question. In free competition alone, he saw, lay his +security for his own perfect honesty, and that of the public for being +truly informed about public proceedings. + +Owen was now in a somewhat similar position to that of the reporters of +the London newspapers, some years ago, when a very few journals, +compromising matters among themselves, and, secure from competition, +sported with public curiosity as they chose. If a fit of yawning seized +those gentlemen in the midst of a parliamentary debate, they went to the +next tavern to refresh themselves with a bowl of punch; and Burke and +Fox might take their chance for its being known beyond the House that +they had spoken at all. Thus, if Owen grew tired, he had only to go +away, and add next morning that “the meeting separated at a late hour, +highly gratified,” &c. &c. Again, the old London reporters did not like +having to work three nights together, and gave themselves a holiday on +Wednesdays. In like manner, Friday being a busy day with Owen, he might +have skipped over all Friday doings, and have allowed a dead silence to +rest on whatever happened on that unlucky day. He had been rather +roughly treated by one of the opulent friends of the Mechanics’ +Institution; and, if he had not been too honest, he might have omitted a +hundred notices which he printed of this gentleman’s zealous exertions +for the good of the town; or have made nonsense of the sentiments he +uttered, or have taken care that his name should not remain upon record +in the local history of which reporters are the faithful or unfaithful +compilers. This is the way that Mr. Windham’s light was hid under a +bushel for a whole session, when he was most conscious of his own +brilliancy, and most eager to illumine the public. He had offended the +reporters; and to punish him, the people of Great Britain were kept in +the dark. + +Besides the temptation which he had in common with them,—that of +suppressing through pique and prejudice,—Owen was subjected to another. +Again and again was he insulted by the offer of a bribe, or by an +attempt at intimidation. One day, when he had been reporting in court, +Mr. Arruther crossed over to him, and with a dubious manner, between +shyness and condescension, asked him to drop in and take a glass of wine +with him at his inn, that evening, as he had something to say to him. + +Owen had never used any disguise as to his opinions of Mr. Arruther’s +parliamentary conduct; and he therefore believed that if the gentleman +bestowed any thoughts on him at all, they could scarcely be very +affectionate ones. He was surprised, of course, at finding himself +received with as much cordiality as a person of little sensibility could +throw into his manner. The wine on the table was excellent; the +invitations to partake of it hearty; and the object of the invitation +presently disclosed. + +Mr. Arruther could not conceive why Owen troubled himself to report all +the law proceedings that took place in the court. Many of them could +interest none but the parties concerned. What had the public to do, for +instance, with his cousin Ellen’s quarrels with him about his mother’s +property? Where was the use of printing law-suits,—dull things to read, +as they were tiresome to manage? Owen explained that his business was to +report. It was the affair of the readers of the paper what they would +skip as dull, and what they chose to consider indispensable. He +understood from his employer that no part of the paper was more narrowly +watched than the law reports; and this was not surprising, as it was by +means of these law reports alone that a great number of persons could +gain accurate information respecting the laws to which they were +subject. If he were obliged to regard the representations made to him as +to what should be left out of the paper, there would soon be nothing +left in it: for there were few kinds of intelligence that it was not the +wish of some person or another to conceal: but, if he had to choose what +particular department should be omitted, it should certainly be almost +any rather than the law-reports. Other kinds of information had some +chance of travelling round by some different means; but the newspapers +were almost the only guides of the subjects of the State as to their +duty to the State. He knew that Mr. Arruther was of opinion that the +people had nothing to do with the laws but to obey them; but people +could not well obey the laws without knowing what they were: so that Mr. +Arruther, who wished the laws to be obeyed, should not grudge the people +the little they might learn of them through the newspapers. + +“Then, pray,” said the gentleman, “do not cut short that cause about +Thirlaway’s road, that kept us all waiting such a confounded time this +morning. Give it all; let them have every line of it; and if you find it +likely to fill your paper, you can leave out my affairs, to make room +for it.” + +“I hope to be able to manage both, sir. The leading arguments on each +side of all the causes tried this morning can be offered without +transgressing our limits.” + +“Better print the other entire. Do you know, Mr. Owen, I will give you a +shilling a line to see how complete a thing you can make of it, provided +you leave out mine to make room.” + +“You do not know the person you have to deal with, Mr. Arruther. A man +cannot be a reporter for a twelvemonth without knowing something of the +practice of ‘feeing the fourth estate,’ as people say. I am upon my +guard, sir, I assure you; and the less you say on this head the better, +for your own sake.” + +“On your guard! Bless me! What an expression,—as if I had said anything +wrong! Do you suppose I do not know the customs of your craft? Till the +management of a newspaper becomes a less expensive affair than it is at +present, I do not know what better plan there can be than making out the +pay of reporters for what they bring to the compositor, by letting them +take fees for what they suppress. Such a custom is so convenient to all +parties, that I wonder at your pretending to dislike it.” + +“When you call it convenient to all parties, sir, you seem to forget the +principal party concerned. However it may be with the proprietor of the +paper, and with the reporter, and those who tender the fee, it is not +very convenient to the public that their supply of information should +depend on the length of a few purses, whose owners may wish to make +private certain of their proceedings which ought to be public. It may +prove convenient to some of your constituents, sir, if not to you, that +it should be known exactly how you stand in that cause which was tried +this morning. It is always convenient to electors to know as much as +they can learn of the character of their representatives. I believe that +I have no right to keep back such information; and the report will +therefore appear to-morrow, at the same length as is generally allotted +to causes of that nature.” + +Mr. Arruther explained in vain how particularly provoking his mother’s +will had been; how unexpected it was that his cousin Ellen should have +been stirred up to sue him; how little idea he had till this morning of +the extent to which his lawyer had deceived him about the merits of his +own case; how glad he should be if the whole could now be dropped and +privately arranged; and, finally and especially, how little the public +had to do with whether he tried to keep his mother’s property, or +quietly let it go to somebody else. It was in vain that he urged all +this. Owen could not see why any of these considerations should +interfere with the advantage which the readers of the paper would derive +from the knowledge of Mr. Arruther’s proceedings. That this gentleman +had a bad cause to maintain might be a very sufficient reason for his +present condescension, and for his offering to double and treble his +bribe; but it afforded the strongest possible inducement to Owen to +publish the whole, for the guidance of those who had it in their power +to withdraw this unworthy man from public life. Mr. Arruther grew angry +when all the offers he could make for the suppression of the report were +simply declined. + +“I do not know, sir, what has made you my enemy,” he observed. “But you +are my enemy, sir. Don’t deny it. Do you think I am not aware of what +you have done, first in trying to deprive me of the support of the +editor of the ‘Western Star;’ and, when you could not succeed in that, +in exposing me privately wherever you could?” + +“How do you use the word ‘privately,’ Mr. Arruther? If you mean that I +have whispered things to your disadvantage, or used any kind of secrecy +in what I have said, you are mistaken. If you mean that I have printed +nothing against you, you are quite correct; but the reason is, that I +have not had the power. If there had been any independent newspaper in +the district, where I might have said what you allude to, it would have +saved me the trouble of writing many letters, and have enabled me to do +my duty much more effectually than it has been done. If you feel +yourself aggrieved from the same cause; if you desire an opportunity of +publicly contradicting what has been said about your scanty attendance +at the House, and the course of your political conduct when there; if +you really wish for a fair discussion of your public character, you will +assist those of us who are anxious to set up a newspaper as nearly +independent as the circumstances of the time will allow.” + +“Not I. We have too many newspapers already. I shall not countenance the +setting up of any more.” + +“Too many already,” repeated Owen, smiling as his eye fell on a little +table on which lay seven or eight newspapers, received this morning, and +destined to be replaced by the same number to-morrow. “Too many! That +depends on how they are divided. Perhaps you forget, sir, that while +Members of Parliament have seven or eight to themselves every day, there +are seven or eight thousand people who see but one paper, and seven or +eight millions of persons who never see one at all. You may feel +yourself ready for your morning ride before you have half got through +such a pile of papers as lies there, and may find it a tiresome part of +your duty to read so much politics every day; but if you steal into the +dark bye-places of a town like this, and hear what people are saying in +their ignorance against being governed at all; if you go out upon the +sheep-walks, and see the country folks growing into the likeness of +stocks and stones, for want of having their human reason exercised; if +you will ride down any Saturday into our own village, and see the +scramble there is for a single copy of an inferior provincial paper, you +will presently lose the fancy that we have too many newspapers already.” + +“Too many by that one copy you spoke of, in my opinion, Mr. Owen. The +people in Arneside did very well without any newspaper when I was a boy, +I remember. I wish you had been pleased to consult me before you took +such a step as sending them one. You should know better than to fall +into the propensity of the time, for pampering the common people. You +talk as wisely as anybody about putting gin in their way, and I do not +see that they want news any more than gin. That was one of the few good +things my mother used to say. When some complaint came to her ears about +the price of newspapers, she asked whether anybody thought any harm of +taxing gin; and whether the common people could not do without news as +well as without spirits. She was right enough, for once. The common +people can do without news. News is a luxury, as somebody said.” + +“O, yes. News can be done without; and so can many other things. You may +lock a man into a house, and he will still live. You may darken his +windows from the sun at noonday, and the stars at night, and he will +still live. You may let in no air but what comes down the chimney, and +he will still live. You may chain him to the bed-post, you may stuff his +ears, and cover his eyes, and tie his hands behind him, and he can ‘do +without’ the use of his limbs and his senses, and of God’s noblest +works: but it was not for this that God sent his sun on its course, and +set the stars rolling in their spheres, and freshened the breezy hills, +and gave muscles to our strong limbs, and nerves to our delicate organs. +He did not make his beautiful world that one might walk abroad on it, +while a thousand are shut into a dark dungeon. Neither did he give men +the curiosity with which they watch and listen, and the imagination with +which they wander forth, and the reason with which they meditate among +his works, that the one might be baffled, and the others fettered and +enfeebled. And what does any one gain by such tyranny? Does the sun +shine more brightly when a man thinks he has it all to himself, than +when the reapers are merry in the field, and the children are running +after butterflies in the meadow? Would Orion glow more majestically to +any one man if he could build a wall up to the high heaven, and stop the +march of the constellation, and part it off, that common eyes might not +look upon it? If not, neither can any one gain by shutting up that which +God has made as common to the race as the lights of his firmament, and +the winds which come and go as he wills. That word ‘news’ is a little +word and a common word; but it means all that is great as the results of +the day, and holy as the march of the starry night. It is the +manifestation of man’s most freshly compounded emotions, the record of +his most recent experiences, and the revelation of God’s latest +providences on earth. Are these things to be kept from the many by the +few, under the notion that they are property? Are these things now to be +doled out at the pleasure, and to suit the purposes of an order of men, +as the priests of Catholic countries measured out their thimblefull of +the waters of life, in the name of him who opened up the spring, and +invited every one that thirsted to come and drink freely? To none has +authority been given to mete out knowledge, according to their own sense +of fitness, any more than to those priests of old; but on all is imposed +the religious duty of providing channels by which the vital streams of +knowledge shall be brought to every man’s door. If, in this day, any man +who seeks to be a social administrator desires that the few should cover +up their reservoirs lest they should overflow for the refreshment of the +many, it is no wonder if his cistern grows so foul as to make him +question in right earnest at last, whether there be not something more +poisonous in the draught than in gin itself; and much that is perilous +in the eagerness of the crowd who rush to lap whatever cannot be +prevented from leaking out.” + +“You mean to say that our universities are fouled reservoirs, I suppose? +It would become you to speak more modestly till you have been there.” + +“I know nothing of what is within the universities, further than by +watching what comes out. The vague idea that I have of the knowledge +that pervades them is perhaps as reverential as you, or any other son of +such an institution, can desire: but I own that my reverence would be +more ardent and affectionate if I could see that that knowledge made its +partakers happier than it does.” + +“Happier! How can you possibly tell? How should you know, when I am the +only university-man, I believe, that you are acquainted with?” + +“I judge by what I see. When men enjoy, the next thing is to +communicate; especially when by communicating they lose nothing +themselves. But it is not so in this case. What have the universities +done towards showing the beauty and holiness of knowledge, as the most +universal and the highest blessing which God has given to the living and +breathing race of man? What have the universities done to diffuse their +own treasures into every corner of the land? How have they applied their +knowledge towards the promotion of the happiness of the state,—opening +their doors to all who would come in, discovering or sanctioning the +best principles of legislation and government, countenancing public and +private virtue, and being foremost in proposing and enforcing whatever +might fulfil the final purposes of knowledge by making the greatest +number of rational beings as wise and happy as the circumstances of the +age will admit? While I see nothing of all this attempted by our +universities, I feel more respect and affection for the studies which +are going forward within a Mechanics’ Institution (crude and superficial +studies, perhaps, but tending to promote the substantial happiness of +the race), than for the pursuits of a university, or any other place, +where intellectual luxury is reserved to pamper the few while the many +starve.” + +“I do not see much starving in the case, when we have not only too many +regular newspapers, but scores of unstamped publications, which +circulate their scores of thousands each. Precious stuff for your common +people to batten upon!” + +“When we once come to the question of quality, sir, there may be less to +be said than about quantity. Is there anything here,—or here,”—taking up +the “John Bull” and the “Age,” “that will make the public wiser and +better than they would become by reading the ‘Twopenny Treat’ or the +‘Poor Man’s Guardian.’ That there is any such ‘precious stuff’ for +readers to batten on is the fault of those who, by keeping up one +newspaper monopoly, have created another.” + +“What new monopoly, pray? And what public would ever endure two +monopolies of the same article?” + +“There are two publics to suffer by the two monopolies. While the +tax-gatherers take five-pence out of every seven-pence that is given for +a newspaper; while the practice of advertising is so kept down by the +duty as to deprive the proprietors of their legitimate profits; while a +capital of between thirty and forty thousand pounds is required to +conduct a good daily paper, no journal will or can be honest, cheap, and +successful; and the middle classes, who can afford to see only one +paper, will suffer by the long-established monopoly of the old journals. +While men of more wit than capital are tempted or driven to evade the +law; while adventurers below the reach of the law are virtually invited +to defy and vilify it, the large class of poor readers will suffer by +the pernicious monopoly which not his Majesty nor all his Ministers can +break up, as long as legal newspapers are made to cost seven-pence, +while illegal ones may be had for two-pence.—Have you seen any of these +illegal publications?” + +“Yes. Precious stuff! Falsehoods in every sentence; blunders in every +line; as any one who chose might show in a minute.” + +“Unfortunately, no one will choose it, in the present state of affairs. +It must be easy enough to controvert any publication so bad as you +describe; but the opportunity is not allowed. These falsehoods and +blunders are crammed down the people’s throats, and no one can unchoke +them, because the law interferes to prevent the free circulation of +opinions. I know of a young man at Arneside who actually believes that +all master manufacturers make it a principle and a pleasure to oppress +and worry their workmen, and that all rulers study nothing so regularly +and strenuously as how to wring the hearts of the greatest number of +people. He reads this (among a hundred better things) in one of these +unstamped publications, which would either have never existed at all, or +have treated very differently of politics, if the Stamp Commissioners +had taught it no lesson of hatred against the law.” + +“Ah! you mean that brother of yours. I heard how he was going, poor +fool!” + +“If he is a poor fool, what is it that has prevented his being wise? He +has shown his disposition to become so by his eagerness after such +reading as he can obtain; and if he has got so far as to learn the +strength of a bad argument, alas for those who step in to prevent his +getting farther, and learning its weakness in the presence of a better! +If he cannot find sound political teachers, where lies the blame?” + +“If you had newspapers quite free, who do you suppose would write for +the common people? We should be inundated with blasphemous and seditious +publications.” + +“When a man goes with his money in his hand to purchase a newspaper, do +you think he is asked whether he is one of the common people? And when +newspapers sell for the cost of production and a fair profit, who is +likely to produce the best, and sell the most,—the respectable and +educated capitalist, or the ignorant and needy agitator? When newspapers +have fair play, their success will depend, I fancy, like that of other +articles, on their quality; and I never yet heard of any instance in +which any class of people failed to purchase the better article in +preference to the worse, when both were fairly set before them. +Moreover, I never heard of a wise and kind government, whether of a +single family, a city, or a nation, that did not desire rather than fear +that its proceedings should be known and discussed.” + +“Ah! that shows how little you know of the plague and mischief of being +talked over, when any business is in hand. If you were in the place of +those who have to transact affairs on the continent, and in our +colonies, you would be too much vexed to laugh at the nonsense that +people believe about us. There is nothing too monstrous or ridiculous to +be credited. A plague on the foolish tongues that spread such things!” + +“Or rather on the policy which allows such reports to be originated and +to pass current. If a multitude of the King’s subjects at home, and of +his allies abroad, believe all that is monstrous of his government, and +all that is ridiculous of his people, it seems time that better means of +knowledge should be given to both. While the world lasts, social beings +can never be prevented discussing their rulers and their neighbours; and +if we are annoyed at their errors, the alternative is not silence but +truth. When newspapers circulate untaxed, and not till then, there will +be an approach to a general understanding, and to social peace.” + +“You are not exactly the person to talk of social peace, I think, Mr. +Owen, when you are bent on setting me and my electors at variance by +publishing my family quarrels, in spite of all I can say.” + +Owen did not choose to remain to be insulted by further entreaties that +he would take a bribe. He rose, observing that this was a case in which +he had no more concern than with a quarrel in the Cabinet, and no more +option than in announcing an earthquake at Aleppo. He was a reporter, +and nothing more. If Mr. Arruther had anything further to say, he must +make his appeal to the proprietors of the “Western Star.” + +A few last words were vouchsafed to him before he left the room. Their +purpose was to assure him that if this report appeared, he need never +apply to Mr. Arruther for assistance, in case of his fool of a brother +getting into any scrape, or he himself ever being tried for libel, or +any disaster, public or private, befalling him. If Owen should, on +consideration, decide to accommodate Mr. Arruther, that gentleman would +see what he could do on any occasion when he might be of service. + + + CHAPTER VIII. + + FAMILY SECRETS. + + +Mr. Arruther’s evil bodings had had some effect in depressing Owen’s +spirits before he opened the following letter from his mother, which he +found on the table of his little apartment when he reached his lodgings. +Nurse’s share of the correspondence with her son usually consisted of +cheerful and loving messages, sent by some friendly mediator who might +be likely to see Owen, or was about to drop him a line on business. She +had never before sent a letter, but once; and that was when the +clergyman had stopped her in the churchyard, not only to ask after all +her children, but to praise them according to their respective deserts. +On that occasion, nurse had gone straight to the schoolmaster, and asked +him to give her a seat beside his desk, while she told him what she +wished to express to Owen. Then, how had her maternal modesty raised the +blush on her cheek while she made the effort to repeat the clergyman’s +words! and how, while she looked round on the blazing fire, the superior +lamp, the sanded floor, and neat shelf of books, did she assure herself +that her old narrow cottage, with its brick floor, was just as happy a +place to so favoured a mother as herself! She now wrote under different +circumstances, as her letter will show. + + “My dear Son, + + “This letter does not come out of the school-room you know so well, as + the last did; though your old teacher is so good as to be still the + writer. I have asked him to come home with me, though mine is but a + poor place compared with his. One reason is, that I did not wish + anybody to overhear what I am going to tell you; and there is no fear + of being overheard at home, as I am mostly alone of an evening. And + now I feel the disadvantage of not being able to write myself,—that I + am obliged to get another to write what I have to say against my own + children. Yet not against them, neither: for that seems a hard word to + say: but I mean I should have been loth anybody should know that we + are not altogether so happy as we once were, if I could have let you + know it in any other way than this. The short of the matter is, Owen, + that Ambrose is in such a way that I cannot tell what to say to him + next. He and Mr. Waugh have been quarrelling sadly. It is not for me + to say which is right; and, to be sure, many of Mr. Waugh’s other + workpeople have been doing the same thing: but all I know is that + there were no such troubles before Ambrose joined the Lodge, as they + call it; and Mr. Waugh gives the same wages as before, and living is + cheaper. I can only say now that Ambrose is tramping about, here and + there, when work is over, and at times when he used to be at home; and + that he is grown fond of show; attending a brother’s funeral, as he + called it, yesterday, and thinking more of the blue ribbons and the + procession, I am afraid, than that a fellow-mortal was gone to his + account. Indeed, he said in the middle of it that there is nothing + like ceremony after all; which is not just what the Lord would have us + think when he calls a brother away. I lay it all to the newspaper that + Mr. Ryan brought; and the more that Mr. Ryan was taken up for selling + it, and is now in prison on that account. I little thought that a + child of mine would ever have to do with what was unlawful; and I + never would have looked at the pictures in this paper if I had guessed + what the justices would think: but Ambrose was pleased with what Ryan + did when he was taken up; though folks suppose he will not be let out + the sooner for it. He made a great flourish in the street, and cried + out, ‘Englishmen, will you suffer this?’ It made my heart turn within + me to think that one that I have known as an honest man for so many + years should carry his grey hairs into a prison; and I never would + have believed that Ryan would do any thing wrong. Ambrose says he has + not, and is getting up a rejoicing against he comes out of prison: but + the justices say he has; and so what is one to think? But I wish your + brother would be persuaded to give up thinking of making a triumph + against the justices, when Ryan comes out. I tell him that it is no + triumph, after all, considering that Ryan will then have been in + prison all the time that it was thought fit he should be there. But + the time is past when anything is minded that I say; though I ought + not to complain, and do not; being aware, as I always was, that I say + little that is worth minding. Yet I never had to say this of you; and + I am much mistaken if Ambrose be wiser than you. You will be asking + whether I comfort myself with Mildred. My dear, I can only say now + that Mildred is no comfort to me; and if you ask me why, I can no more + tell you what has come over her than if I lived at L——. Sometimes I + think, God help me! that the poor girl hates me,—for never a word does + she speak to me now, when she can manage to hold her tongue; and, as + sure as ever any neighbour goes out and leaves us together, she is off + like a shot, and I see no more of her till some third person is here + again, even if that does not happen till morning. I should be truly + thankful if any one would find out the reason of such a change, for it + is more than I can well bear, if it is not a sin to say so. I try to + comfort myself, my dear boy, with thinking of you who are nothing but + a blessing to me. I try to be thankful, as in duty bound: but it so + happens, while you are so far away, and the others just before my + eyes, or expected home every moment and not coming, I cannot be + comforted as it is my duty to be. It is another trouble to find the + neighbours not what they were to me. Farmer Mason would not let me go + and nurse his wife yesterday, ill as she is, and with nobody to watch + her properly of a night. He said his cattle had pined of late, and he + had lost all his fowls; looking at me, just as if I could have helped + his losses, when there is nobody more sorry than I am that such + mishaps should have followed the fire that well nigh ruined him, so + long ago. And so it seems with others who do not look friendly upon me + as they did. Everything appears to be going wrong with everybody; and + we do not seem able to comfort one another as we used to do. This is a + sad saying to end with; so I just add that Kate Jeffery is the same + good girl, whatever changes come over others; and I depend on her + going on in her own right way. You will be glad to hear this; and I + hope you will not make yourself too uneasy about the rest: but I could + not help opening my mind to you, having always done so before, and + never with so much occasion. And now I shall wish to know if you have + anything to say upon this. He that holds the pen promises to read me + whatever you may write, very exactly, and to keep all a secret, we so + desiring. So no more now, except that Mrs. Dowley has got another boy, + and poor widow Wilks’s eldest has had the measles very bad, but is now + better,” &c. &c. + +Owen had not the least doubt of his old teacher’s accuracy in reading +the letter now requested, or of his discretion about its contents; but +Owen had no intention of committing to paper what he had to say. He must +go down to Arneside, without delay, and see whether anything could be +done to make the people there happier than they seemed to be at present. +He obtained leave to go down, the next afternoon; and, in the meantime, +got no sleep for thinking of his mother’s sorrows, and of the hours that +must pass before he could do anything to relieve them. + + + CHAPTER IX. + + THE MYSTERIES LAID OPEN. + + +While nurse was by turns dictating her letter and sighing, till the +scribe caught the infection, and lost his spirits; while the wind moaned +in the crevices of the ricketty dwelling, and the flame of the single +candle flared and flickered in the draughts of the poor apartment, +Ambrose was under a securer shelter, and Mildred under none at all. +Ambrose had been assisting in swearing in new brothers who had joined +his lodge. He had helped to blindfold them, and to guide them through +the mummeries which were calculated to answer any purpose rather than +that of adding sanctity to an oath. The jargon of the verse to be +gabbled over, the dressing up, the locking in, were more like the +Christmas games of very young school-boys than the actual proceedings, +the serious business of grown men. Mummery has usually or always arisen +from an inconvenient lack of shorter and plainer methods of explanation, +and of facilities for communication. This sort of picture-writing is +discarded, by common consent, wherever the press comes in to fulfil the +object with more ease, speed, and exactitude. When Ambrose declared that +“there is nothing like ceremony, after all,” he testified that he +belonged to a nation or a class which is stinted in the best means of +communication, and kept in an infantine state of knowledge and pursuit. +If he had been growing up to a period of mature wisdom, like his +brother, he would have told the brethren of his lodge that there is +nothing so childish as ceremony, after all. To form into a lodge, or a +company, or whatever it may be called, when a number of men have +business to do, is the most ready and unobjectionable method of +transacting that business; but if the brethren cannot be kept in order +and harmony without being amused by shows, or excited by mystification, +they had far better be playing cricket on the green, than pretend to +assist in conducting the serious affairs of their class. Much better +would it have been for Ambrose to have been playing cricket on the green +this evening, than frightening people even more ignorant than himself +with death’s heads, horrible threats, and oaths made up of the most +alarming words that could be picked out of the vocabulary of unstamped +newspapers. Much better would it have been for him to have been reading +anything,—book, pamphlet, or newspaper,—than to have sent his sister on +such an errand as she was transacting on the hills. + +Mildred was made, without her own knowledge, a servant of the lodge, a +messenger from all the discontented with whom Ambrose was connected to +all the discontented in the district. This trouble was imposed upon her +because the country folks were unable to read, and paper was dear, and +advertisements were dearer still. The object was to bring people +together to consult on their fortunes, and the measures that should be +taken to mend them. Mr. Arruther would have said that it was well that +so improper an object should be frustrated by the absence of all +assistance from the press: but Mr. Arruther might have been told that +there is no frustrating such an object; and that the only effect of the +press not being concerned in it was, that the summons bore a very +different character from what it would have had, if there had been +perfect freedom of communication. In a newspaper, the notice would have +been that people were to meet at such a spot, at such an hour, and for +such and such a purpose. As it was, Mildred was scudding over the hills, +shivering whenever the gust overtook her, as if it must bring something +dreadful; starting if she found any one awaiting her at the appointed +places, and trembling if it was herself that must wait; and faltering or +gabbling in equal terror, as she delivered the circular which was to be +carried forwards by those whom she met; the circular being as follows:— + + “Meet on Arneford Green, + Six and seven between. + Bring words as sharp as sickles, + To cut the throats + Of gentlefolks, + That rob the poor of victuals. + Hungry guts and empty purse + May be better, can’t be worse.” + +The political wisdom of the district had discovered that all was going +wrong within it. Farmer Mason’s live stock was dying off, and his wife +had been long confined to her bed with some grievous affliction. +Neighbour Green’s dog had gone mad, and had been very near biting some +children that were playing in the road. The wheat on the uplands looked +poorly; and the mill-stream was dry; so that many of Mr. Waugh’s +workpeople were out of employ. It must be a very bad government that +allowed all this to happen at once, some people said: but there were +many who hinted that the blame did not all rest with the Government, and +that there was one person who might some day prove to have had more to +do with those disasters than everybody liked to say. This hint had gone +the round, and become amplified in its course, till it was considered a +settled matter by every one who entertained the subject at all, that +nurse Ede was quite as pernicious to Arneside as the Government and all +the gentlefolks put together; and that there should be no attempt at +rebellion till nurse had been called to account for her witcheries. + +The affair had been brought to a crisis by this evening, when Mildred +was delivering her circular on the hills. She was expected and lain in +wait for. Suddenly she fell in with a party who would not let her +proceed till she had been sworn on her knees to tell all she knew of her +mother’s proceedings, of the nature of her intercourse with her black +cat, and of the uses of the mysterious apparatus which now filled her +cupboard as well as the shelf. The girl knew nothing of what she was +required to confess; but she did what she could to please her tyrants. +She poured out all the nonsensical fancies, all the absurd suspicions, +which had been accumulating in her ignorant mind from the days of her +childhood till now. The sum total proved even more satisfactory than the +party had expected.—There was now but one thing to be done. Nurse must +be forced to recant, and make reparation; and that as soon as possible. +The managers of the enterprise must not quit their hold of her till she +had begun to restore Mrs. Mason; revive the calves and poultry that +remained alive, if she could not restore those which were dead; set the +mill-wheel revolving again; brought showers upon the upland corn-fields, +and confessed precisely what kind and degree of influence she had +exerted over poor Mrs. Arruther: for it was not to be forgotten how the +lightning had split the tree beside the lady’s monument, the last thing +before it fired Farmer Mason’s barn. + +While all this was passing, nurse had dismissed the good-natured +schoolmaster, and had looked after him from the door, shading her candle +with her apron, till she could see him no longer; and had sat down, with +a sigh at her loneliness, to mend one more pair of stockings for +Ambrose, to take the chance of one or other of her children coming home +for the night. She had nearly given the matter up when she thought she +heard a little noise outside the door. As she looked up, she saw a very +white face pressed close to the window, and looking in upon her. + +“Come in! Who’s there? Lift up the latch and come in, whoever you are,” +cried she, who, having never wished harm to any human being, had no fear +of receiving harm from the hands of any. “My girl!” exclaimed she, as +Mildred stood on the threshold, looking uncertain whether to set foot in +the cottage, or to retreat, “My dear, ye are right enough to come home +to a warm bed to-night. It will be but a chilly night for sleeping +beside the fold, if that is really what ye do when ye don’t come home. +I’ve been looking for ye, my dear; so, come in, and shut the door, and +see what supper I’ve been keeping ready for ye. Why do ye keep standing +outside in that way, Mildred?” + +As nurse sat at the table, looking over her spectacles, with her candle +on one side, and the cat on the other, drowsily opening and shutting its +eyes, as if quite at ease, there seemed to be something which prevented +Mildred from advancing a step towards the party. She only said in a +shrill tone, + +“They’re coming.” + +Who was coming,—whether Ambrose and the brethren from the lodge, or the +long-dreaded Turks, or any people more to be feared still, could not be +ascertained. All that could be got out of Mildred was, “They’re coming.” +The door was still standing wide, the parley was still proceeding, when +they came. + +A night of horrors followed; horrors which were once perpetrated in the +metropolitan cities of mighty empires; and then descended to inferior +towns; and then were banished to the country; and now are seldom to be +heard of, even in the remotest haunts of ignorance. But such horrors are +not yet extinct. Since the sacrifice of nurse Ede, others, perhaps as +guileless and kind of heart, have met a fate like hers. + +During the whole of the dreadful scene of violence and torment, the +mother called on her children. As if they had all been present, she +implored them to bear witness as to what her life had been, and to save +her from her persecutors. She had reared her sons with incessant +watchfulness, from the time that their little hands could only grasp her +finger, up to the manly strength which might have saved her now: but +Owen was far away, dreaming of no evil; and as for Ambrose, his face was +never seen, all that night. Mildred was present,—standing in her +mother’s view during all those fearful hours; but the call on her was +also in vain. She stood staring, with her arms by her sides, and her +hair on end, only wincing and moving back a little when her mother’s +appeals to her became particularly vehement. This was the child who had +been the object of as fond parental hopes as had ever been shed over the +unconsciousness of infancy. Hers was the arm which was to have been her +mother’s support to church on Sabbath days. Hers were the hands which +were to have relieved her parent of the more laborious of their homely +tasks. She it was who should have enlivened the day with her cheerful +industry, and amused the evening with the intelligence which nurse had +done her best to put in the way of improvement. This was the child! And +this was the contrast which flitted through her unhappy mother’s mind as +she was dragged past Mrs. Arruther’s monument, and taunted with the +memory of that poor lady. + +Mrs. Arruther and she were both unhappy as mothers. The child of the one +was as destitute (whatever might be his scholarship) of all the +knowledge which is of most value in the conduct and embellishment of +life, as these his despised neighbours; and the protracted torment which +he caused his parent might, in its sum, equal that which nurse was +enduring to-night. The crowning proof of his substantial ignorance was +his desire and endeavour to keep others in that state of darkness of +which the deeds of this night were some of the results. There will be no +more mothers so wretched as Mrs. Arruther and her nurse when mothers +themselves shall know how to give their children true knowledge; and +when their children shall have access to that true knowledge without +hindrance and without measure. + +One thrilling sound of complaint at last penetrated the chamber of the +clergyman; and, in consequence, nurse was presently in her own bed, +attended upon by Kate Jeffery, while Mildred sat in a corner of the +cottage, staring as before. She let Kate bring her to the bedside, when +her parent’s unquenchable tenderness was kindling up once more; but the +girl was pitiably at a loss what to say, and how to conduct herself. + +“I never did, my dear; if you will believe the last words I shall ever +speak. I never did, or thought of doing such things as they say. Tell +them so, when I am gone; will you? Only tell them what I said. O +Mildred, cannot you promise me even that much?” + +“She is mazed,” said Kate Jeffery, in excuse of her old play-fellow. +“She will come to, by-and-by.” + +“I wish I was mazed, if it be not thankless to say so,” muttered nurse. +“But it will all be over soon. Well: it is God’s will that my son Owen +is so far from me at this time.” + +She little guessed how soon her son Owen would be standing where Kate +was now. But, soon as it was, it was too late for nurse. + +It was indeed a withered and haggard cheek (as nurse once anticipated) +that her children looked upon as they watched her rest;—not her +breathing sleep, but her last long rest. Owen must have been quite +overthrown by meeting such a shock on his arrival, or he could never +have spoken to Mildred as he did. He upbraided her for the stupidity +with which she had given ear to the ridiculous falsehoods which had been +hatched against one of the most harmless women that had ever lived: +falsehoods that any child in L would have been ashamed to be asked to +believe. But it was impossible that Mildred, or any one else, could have +really credited such things. It could have been only a pretence + +“No; no pretence,” Kate interposed to say. “There would have been no +malice, if there had not been profound ignorance. No one could have +helped loving nurse, and doing nothing but good to her, up to her dying +day, if it had but been known why and how she practised her art; and +that no woman has really the power, by prayers and charms, of stopping +mill-streams and maddening dogs.” + +“How could I tell?” mournfully asked Mildred. “They all said——I’m sure I +thought they would have killed me first. They all said, and they all +think, that she was an awful and a wicked woman; and what else could I +think? I’m sure I never durst touch her, or scarce anything that she had +touched before me, after what Maude Hallowell told me.” + +“You are out of your mind, I think,” said Owen, bitterly. “To talk as +you do, and she lying there!” + +“And if Mildred was out of her mind, Mr. Owen,” said Kate, in a low +voice, “is she to be taunted with it, as if it was her fault? I should +rather say that she has very little mind; for hers seems to me never to +have grown since we were at the Sunday school together. Surely, Mr. +Owen, it is the narrow mind that is least able to help itself under +foolish fears, and any horrible fancy that may be riding it till it is +weary. Surely it is not merciful to taunt a mind that is so miserable in +itself already.” + +“Then I will not taunt her, Kate. It will be sorrow enough to her, all +her days, to have to pass my mother’s grave, and think how she was sent +there. Go, poor girl, and tell the clergyman that it is all over. Nobody +shall hurt you: I will take care of you. Nobody shall blame you: the +blame shall rest elsewhere.” + +“Where?” asked the bewildered girl, as, in a flurried manner, she tied +on her bonnet to go to the clergyman. “What are you going to do now, +Owen? Where——what did you say last?” + +“That nobody shall blame you, as I did just now, for what has happened +to our mother. It is no fault of yours, Mildred, any more than it can be +called Ambrose’s fault that he now lies in prison——” + +“In prison!” + +“Yes: he has been taken there (God knows whether according to law or +not) for the part he has taken about swearing in the brothers at his +Lodge. There he was, poor fellow, when my mother was calling upon him in +a way to break a heart of stone, they say.” Owen saw the convulsion +which passed over his sister’s countenance as he made this allusion; and +he resolved to refer to that dreadful scene no more. “Whatever may be +done with Ambrose, he has perished. His life is blasted, whether, as +some suppose, he is sent abroad, or whether his punishment is to be +worked out at home. How should he have known better? The only bit of law +he knew, he learned by accident from a newspaper; and when he would have +learned more, the only lesson-book he could get taught him wrong; and it +could never have taught him so wrong, if those which would have +instructed him better had not been kept out of his reach. The judge and +gaoler are to be his teachers now. Those little know what they are about +who take pains,—for any purpose,—to hold men ignorant. If they could +keep the light of the sun from the earth with the thickest of clouds, +they would do mischief enough in making the plants come up sickly, and +the tall trees dwindle away, and rendering every thing fearful and +dismal, wherever we turn: but all this is harmless trifling compared +with the practice of keeping the mind without the light which God has +provided for it. This it is that brings discontent towards God, and bad +passions among men; temptation to guilt to the careless, and long +heart-suffering to the kindest and best; and the fiercest of murders as +the end of all. O, mother! mother!” + + + + + THE END. + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + Transcriber’s Note + +At line 4.42.18 in ‘The Jerseymen Parting’, the speaker ‘Le Brocq’ is +most likely ‘Durell’, Le Brocq being currently incarcerated. + +Some compound words appear both hyphenated and unhyphenated. When the +word is hyphenated on a line break, the hyphen is either retained or +removed depending on the prevalent form elsewhere; e.g. ‘farmhouse(s)’, +‘lawsuit’, ‘shopkeeper(s)’, ‘thunderstorm’, ‘babyhouse’, ‘coast-guard’, +‘fourpenny’, ‘a-piece’, ‘haymakers’, ‘goodwill’, ‘re-appeared’, +‘runaway’, ‘seafowl’, ‘small-clothes’, ‘stone-ware’. + +Other errors deemed most likely to be the printer’s have been corrected, +and are noted here. The references are to the work, page and line in the +original. + + 1.11.28 I shall have them taken care of[f].” Removed. + 2.28.3 your[’]s was bad advice. Removed. + 2.44.8 that[ that] thou wouldst make haste Removed. + 2.65.21 of the church.[.] Removed. + 2.88.26 by the tithe-proct[e/o]r Replaced. + 3.66.13 as you did at St. Heliers.[’/”] Replaced. + 3.94.22 “You can tell him to[ /-]morrow.” Replaced. + 3.112.2 putting in metal after g[ua/au]ge Transposed. + 3.115.27 the alkaline l[ey/ye] from the copper Transposed. + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77059 *** diff --git a/77059-h/77059-h.htm b/77059-h/77059-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9e81d11 --- /dev/null +++ b/77059-h/77059-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,25695 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> + <head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title>Illustrations of Taxation | Project Gutenberg</title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + body { margin-left: 8%; margin-right: 10%; } + h2 { text-align: center; font-weight: normal; font-size: 1.2em; } + h3 { text-align: center; font-weight: normal; font-size: 1.2em; } + .pageno { right: 1%; font-size: x-small; 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text-align: right; vertical-align: top; width:49%; + } + ins.correction { text-decoration:none; border-bottom: thin dotted gray; } + .quote { font-size: 95%; margin-top: 1.0em; margin-bottom: 1.0em; } + .linegroup .group { margin: 0em auto; } + </style> + </head> + <body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77059 ***</div> + +<div class='pbb'> + <hr class='pb c000'> +</div> +<div class='tnotes'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> + <div class='nf-center'> + <div>Transcriber’s Note:</div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c001'>The volume is a collection of five previously published texts, +each with its own title page and pagination.</p> +<div class='lg-container-l c002'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><a href='#work1'>THE PARK AND THE PADDOCK</a></div> + <div class='line'><a href='#work2'>THE TENTH HAYCOCK</a></div> + <div class='line'><a href='#work3'>THE JERSEYMEN MEETING</a></div> + <div class='line'><a href='#work4'>THE JERSEYMEN PARTING</a></div> + <div class='line'><a href='#work5'>THE SCHOLARS OF ARNESIDE</a></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c003'>Minor errors, attributable to the printer, have been corrected. Please +see the transcriber’s <a href='#endnote'>note</a> at the end of this text +for details regarding the handling of any textual issues encountered +during its preparation.</p> + +<p class='c001'>New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the public domain.</p> + +<div class='htmlonly'> + +<p class='c001'>Any corrections are indicated using an <ins class='correction' title='original'>underline</ins> +highlight. Placing the cursor over the correction will produce the +original text in a small popup.</p> + +<div class='figcenter id001'> +<img src='images/cover.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'> +</div> + +</div> +<div class='epubonly'> + +<p class='c001'>Any corrections are indicated as hyperlinks, which will navigate the +reader to the corresponding entry in the corrections table in the +note at the end of the text.</p> + +</div> + +</div> + +<div class='pbb'> + <hr class='pb c000'> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c004'> + <div><a id='work1'></a><span class='large'>ILLUSTRATIONS</span></div> + <div class='c000'><span class='small'>OF</span></div> + <div class='c000'><em class='gesperrt'><span class='xlarge'>TAXATION.</span></em></div> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class='c005'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c006'> + <div>No. I.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c007'>THE <br>PARK AND THE PADDOCK.</h2> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c006'> + <div><span class="blackletter">A Tale.</span></div> + <div class='c000'><span class='small'>BY</span></div> + <div class='c000'><span class='large'>HARRIET MARTINEAU.</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class='c005'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c004'> + <div>LONDON:</div> + <div>CHARLES FOX, 67, PATERNOSTER-ROW.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class='c008'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> + <div class='nf-center'> + <div>1834.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c009'> + <div>LONDON:</div> + <div><span class='sc'>Printed by William Clowes</span>,</div> + <div>Duke-street, Lambeth.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c007'>THE <br> PARK AND THE PADDOCK.</h2> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c006'> + <div><span class="blackletter">A Tale.</span></div> + <div class='c000'><span class='small'>BY</span></div> + <div class='c000'><span class='large'>HARRIET MARTINEAU.</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c010'> + <div><span class='small'>LONDON:</span></div> + <div><span class='small'>CHARLES FOX, 67, PATERNOSTER-ROW.</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class='c008'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c011'> + <div>1834.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<h3 class='c012'>CONTENTS.</h3> + +<table class='table0'> +<colgroup> +<col class='colwidth7'> +<col class='colwidth76'> +<col class='colwidth15'> +</colgroup> + <tr> + <td class='c013'> </td> + <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>Chap.</span></td> + <td class='c015'><span class='sc'>Page</span></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c013'>1.</td> + <td class='c014'>Pride of Patrimony</td> + <td class='c015'><a href='#ch1.1'>1</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c013'>2.</td> + <td class='c014'>Patrimonial Appendages</td> + <td class='c015'><a href='#ch1.2'>15</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c013'>3.</td> + <td class='c014'>Clerical Duty</td> + <td class='c015'><a href='#ch1.3'>29</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c013'>4.</td> + <td class='c014'>Clerical Recreations</td> + <td class='c015'><a href='#ch1.4'>57</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c013'>5.</td> + <td class='c014'>Vowed Sisterhood</td> + <td class='c015'><a href='#ch1.5'>73</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c013'>6.</td> + <td class='c014'>Battles at Navarino</td> + <td class='c015'><a href='#ch1.6'>105</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c013'>7.</td> + <td class='c014'>Lounging and Listening</td> + <td class='c015'><a href='#ch1.7'>129</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c013'>8.</td> + <td class='c014'>Characteristics</td> + <td class='c015'><a href='#ch1.8'>135</a></td> + </tr> +</table> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c004'> + <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_1.1'>1</span>THE</div> + <div>PARK AND THE PADDOCK.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<h3 id='ch1.1' class='c016'><span class='sc'>Chapter I.</span> <br> <br> PRIDE OF PATRIMONY.</h3> + +<p class='c017'>The inhabitants of the town of A were +divided in opinion as to whether they ought to +be thankful or not for the new road having been +brought within a quarter of a mile of their marketplace. +There were traditions, in the memories +of the old people, of their town having once +been a place of considerable importance; and a +few vestiges of such importance remained to +gratify the pride, and fill up the spare hours of +two or three antiquarians within its bounds. +The old people and these antiquarians agreed in +trembling for the fate of their beloved carved +gateways and projecting fronts of houses, amidst +the brick edifices which were springing up in the +neighbourhood, and the new incentives to improvement +which had arisen; but they granted +that every townsman ought to wish for the increase +of his native place in consequence and +wealth. There were some who already began to +look contemptuously on the streets of low, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.2'>2</span>rambling houses, amidst which their days had +been passed, and to expend all their love and +admiration on the new inn which flared upon +the scarce-finished road, and the sets of red +“lodges,” “villas,” and “cottages,” which stood +in patches on the western outskirts of the town. +The builders of the place, of course, spoke much +in praise of improvement, and those whose house-property +stood in the half empty streets on the +eastern side of A had no less to say +against innovation. There was little dispute, +meanwhile, on one point: that the town had +always suffered from its being in the centre of a +fine sporting country. The dwellings of the +gentry were, almost without exception, situated +at some distance among the moors or the fells. +Even the physicians’ and lawyers’ houses stood +by themselves—in gardens or surrounded by walls—in +emulation of the mansions and shooting-boxes +which might be seen from the church tower; +so that this church tower, and the blue slates of a +few meeting-houses rose from amidst a congregation +of tradesmen’s dwellings. The large old inn, +the Turk’s Head, was almost the only handsome +house of any respectable age. The town was thought +to suffer much in the estimation of strangers from +this deficiency; and the inhabitants became the +more sensible of it, the more strangers were +brought to cast a passing glance upon the place +from the new road, or to make a note of what +they saw from the balcony of the modern inn, +the Navarino, while waiting for horses.</p> + +<p class='c001'>A party of strangers arrived one day, whose +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.3'>3</span>opinion of the town was of some consequence, as +it might determine or prevent their residence in +the neighbourhood. They did not stop either at +the Turk’s Head or at the Navarino, but only for +two minutes to inquire for the steward of Fellbrow +Park, who was found to have preceded the +party to their destination. News had circulated +for some days past of the arrival of a letter from +young Mr. Cranston, declaring his intention of +coming to throw open the house, and to examine +the estate which had been deserted by his father +for many years before his death. The steward +was desired not to draw a nail from the gates; +and to make no further preparation for the arrival +of the heir than having workmen ready to open a +way for him into his own court-yard.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mr. Cranston, the elder, had taken a disgust +to this abode, and quitted it on the death of his +lady, sixteen years ago. Before he drove away, +carrying with him his three little boys and his infant +daughter, he superintended the extraordinary +ceremony of nailing iron plates over the gates of +the court-yard, and took effectual care that no +part of the old-fashioned wall which surrounded +the house should be left in a state to tempt foot +to climb, or eye to look over it. His last charge +to his steward had been to see that not a tree +was planted or felled,—not so much as a weed +pulled up, till further orders. The fish were to +be undisturbed in their ponds, and the game in +their covers. All the servants left behind were to +be sinecurists till a change of policy or of administration +should arrive. Till the news of Mr. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.4'>4</span>Cranston’s death, all these directions had been +complied with, except in as far as certain instances +of connivance might be regarded as breach of +orders. If a few aged neighbours were seen now +and then helping themselves with firewood from +the thickets, and a youth might be descried from +afar stealing towards the ponds, or the game-keeper +occasionally found certain of his charge +fluttering in springes, no notice was taken, and +no remorse followed, as it was decided that both +ponds and covers remained as much overstocked +as the owner could possibly desire. The first +change of management took place when the approach +of young Mr. Cranston was announced. +The steward was grieved at the thought that the +heir should see his estate in so desolate a condition, +and took the liberty,—not to fell trees,—but to +clear away underwood, and weed and new-gravel +the walks which led from the entrance of the park +to the house. A little mowing of the grass, and +trimming of some patches near the house which +were once flower-beds, further improved the +aspect of the place, so as to destroy all anticipation +of what the family was likely to see within +doors.</p> + +<p class='c001'>When the carriages stopped at the park entrance, +the steward appeared to pay his respects, +and suggest that immediate orders should be sent +to one or other of the inns, to provide that accommodation +which it was impossible the house +should afford. He must venture also to say that +the young lady would not find the place fit for +her to enter. It would really be better that she +should not proceed this afternoon.</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_1.5'>5</span>Mr. Cranston had been,—not stretched out at +length, for no carriage could thus accommodate +his length of limb,—but leaning back, reading, +till the last moment. He seemed sorry to be +roused, even by his arrival at his own estate, and +to be greeted by his own steward.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What do you think, Fanny?” said he to his +sister, who was just emerging from a reverie beside +him. “Perhaps you had better go back to +the inn with Mrs. Day and Maynard till to-morrow.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mrs. Day, the respectable elderly personage +who had never been exactly Fanny’s nurse, and +was now far from being her governess, ventured +to say from her corner of the carriage that +she really could not think of Fanny’s proceeding +to the house till she knew that it had been properly +aired. She had been asking, for a week +past, what measures had been taken for this end; +and could learn nothing that satisfied her that +Fanny could go anywhere to-night but to the +inn.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Fanny, meanwhile, had given orders to drive +on; and before Mrs. Day had done speaking, the +carriage was rolling on the gravel within the +gates. If Richard had put away his book, and +sat upright in preparation for what was approaching, +it was not to be expected that she should +turn back, she declared.</p> + +<p class='c001'>The phaeton which her brother James was +driving had passed the carriage during the consultation +with the steward; and Wallace, the +youngest of the three brothers, might now be +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.6'>6</span>seen pointing out certain things that he perceived +in the grass, and in the neighbouring +coppice. James flourished his whip, and quickened +the pace of his steeds. Their mirth communicated +itself to Fanny, and she sprang forward +with an exclamation of joy when the next +turn of the road disclosed a splendid view, bathed +in the sunshine of a bright autumnal afternoon. +Mrs. Day had never been more out of love with +these wild young people, (as she sometimes called +them,) than at the present moment. She did not +expect that they should remember the place, or +her whose death had occasioned their quitting it; +but she really thought that they might show +themselves more sensible of what had happened +there. Some thought of their parents might be +suggested by the scene, which should sober their +spirits a little. But she never saw anything like +the spirits of these young people. So far from +their father having subdued them, it seemed as if +he had left them his wildness without his fits of +melancholy. Perhaps it was hardly fair to expect +that the children of such a parent should be like +other people.</p> + +<p class='c001'>The steward, on his grey pony, had trotted +past the carriage; and he was now collecting +the workmen and their tools in preparation for +Mr. Cranston’s order to throw open the gates.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Come, Richard, you must get out,” cried +Wallace, who had alighted from the phaeton. +“We are only waiting for you.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The knocking began. Mrs. Day could not +bear it. Every blow went to her heart. She +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.7'>7</span>wandered away, thick and damp as was the grass, +till she turned an angle of the wall where the +noise was deadened, and she was out of sight of +the rest of the party. There was a strange +mingling of sounds. The high wall of rock +which rose on the other side of the stream, to +which the lawn sloped down before her, sent back +an echo of the workmen’s blows. The rooks +were disturbed, and rose from the high trees in a +cloud, to add their hoarse music to the din. +Daws came fluttering out of the nest of chimneys +which was visible above the wall, and pigeons +appeared upon the roof, rustling and flapping +their wings in prodigious perturbation. Laughter +(it was Wallace’s laugh) mingled strangely with +the other sounds; and Mrs. Day decided in her +own mind that Mr. Cranston, who was never +wanting in proper feeling, ought to check such +unseasonable mirth. She presently saw that Mr. +Cranston was not at hand to interpose such a +check. While she had wandered round one way, +Fanny and her eldest brother had taken the +other, and they might now be seen,—Richard +standing in his usual lazy attitude, and Fanny +exploring the beds where all the flowers of the +garden seemed to have grown into a tangled +thicket. Mrs. Day found her pronouncing that +such a beautiful spot for a garden was never so +wasted before, and that this unaccountable wall +round the house must be immediately thrown +down, that the coppice, the stream, and the opposite +rocks might be seen. Richard listened with +an air of resignation, and hoped that James would +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.8'>8</span>think his living near enough to allow of his remaining +at Fellbrow till all the alterations were +completed. Richard would heartily thank anybody +who would take the trouble off his hands.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, yes; and let you sleep till noon; till the +sun is warm enough to let you sit down there by +the waterside, reading till dinner; and then let +you lounge on the sofa till tea, and then read or +listen to us all the evening. That is the life you +would like to lead this autumn,” said Fanny.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Just so,” Richard agreed, looking round to +see if there was no seat at hand. The rotten remains +of one were just distinguishable among +the rank grass, under a moss-grown tree; but +there was no hope that it would support Richard’s +lazy length.</p> + +<p class='c001'>A shout, and then a screech, with a final clang, +now told that the gates would open and shut, and +that Richard was wanted. His brothers were in +the yard when he joined them, both breast-high +in thistles. They would not hear of their sister +being kept back by this cause. They carried +her through,—or rather over, this wilderness of +weeds, and placed her on the steps of the door. +They offered to perform the same service for Mrs. +Day, but she once more turned away, almost +without answering. Fanny thought this the +most curious-looking old house she had ever seen, +and, in spite of the desolation of its present aspect, +she could not help enjoying the romantic +prospect which began to open upon her of the +kind of life she might lead here. These lattice +windows,—so many and so small,—were made to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.9'>9</span>be gently opened, in greeting to the rising moon. +That carved wooden seat beside the door should +be restored for the sake of the wandering merchant +who might wish to open his pack before the +eyes of the lady of the house. Those broad eaves +were made for the swallows to build under.—When +she entered the hall, what a sight was there!</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, Wallace, stop! Do stand still a minute,” +cried she, as Wallace strode before her, dealing +destruction right and left among the cobwebs. +Never were such cobwebs seen; and it was difficult +to imagine what the spiders could be that +wove them. They hung like flimsy curtains from +the ceiling to the floor, and, as the newly-admitted +air waved them in the yellow sunshine which +burst in at the door (the windows being wholly +obscured by dust) they exhibited a texture of such +beauty as it indeed required some resolution to +destroy. Wallace would not, however, submit to +a long detention. Parting at the stroke of his +switch, the delicate fabrics fell, forming a dusty +tapestry for the walls.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Do but look!” cried Wallace, when he had +made his way first into the library. “Grass +grown to seed on the mantel-piece! Where the +deuce did the seed and the soil come from?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>As one and another entered the room, new +wonders became apparent. Fanny was surprised +to see the shelves full of books. She looked +close to see what they were, and was startled by +meeting a pair of bright eyes where a space was +left between the volumes.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“It is—yes, it is a stuffed owl,” said she to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.10'>10</span>Richard. “But what an odd place to hide +it in!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“A stuffed owl!” cried Wallace, coming up: +“we will soon see that;” and he touched the +creature with the end of his switch; in answer +to which salutation it ruffled its speckled plumage, +pecked angrily, and then burst away in the direction +of a window which was now perceived to be +broken. James decreed that this room should be +appropriated to Fanny, and that she should never +more be known by any other name than Minerva. +Seated here, with her owl and her books, she +could never say a foolish thing again.</p> + +<p class='c001'>The young lady was not long in doing something +which, in most young ladies, would be +called foolish. She kneeled on the stained carpet +to draw out a volume or two of the row of mouldy +folios next the floor. She was fortunate in finding +another curiosity.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Look, look, Richard! Leave those globes +alone, and come here. Here is a skeleton of +something. What is it, Wallace? A rabbit? +It looks like a rabbit; but there can be no rabbits +in this place. That is right; take away the next +volume, and the next.” Wallace was doing this, +under pretence of wanting more light; for he +was vexed at not being able to pronounce in a +moment what animal this was the skeleton of.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“How curious! how very pretty!” continued +Fanny; “spun all over with cobwebs, and fastened +to the wall with cobwebs! But what animal +can it be? Something that crouches.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ah, ha!” cried Wallace; “now I see. It +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.11'>11</span>is a cat. Here is the skeleton of a rat a little +way before it. Plainly a rat, you see, which +could get no farther between the books and the +wall: this great Josephus stopped it.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And it dared not go back for fear of the cat; +and the cat could not quite reach it. But what +prevented the cat’s going back? Oh, it had +forced its way in too far; and the more it +crouched, the broader its back would be. How +it must have longed to get at the rat! If the rat +had had any generosity, it would have gone back +and given itself up. It was not jammed, but +only barred in behind and before; and when it +was certain not to escape, it might as well have +been eaten as starved.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Perhaps it hoped to be released,” observed +James.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I am sure that cat did, if, as I believe, it is +the same that I used to take care of and torment,” +said Richard. “I plagued the poor thing terribly, +I have no doubt; but she never mewed +but I answered her. How she must have wondered +what had become of me! How piteously +she must have cried for me, while she was starving +to death here! One touch of mine to those +books would have given her her prey and her +liberty. Bring her out, Wallace, and the rat too; +I shall have them taken care <a id='corr1.11.28'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='off'>of</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_1.11.28'><ins class='correction'>of</ins></a></span>.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I think James had better make a sermon +about them,” Fanny observed; “something +about malice, or greediness, and what comes of +them.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“There is matter for many sermons in this +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.12'>12</span>room,” observed Richard gravely. The steward +touched his hat at this remark, and was uncovered +from that moment.</p> + +<p class='c001'>The apartments in which no windows were +broken were in better condition, though it was at +first difficult to breathe in them, and the green +stains on the wall forbade Fanny to hope to be +immediately established there. Three westerly +rooms,—one of which was the drawing-room,—were +in better condition than any others, and it +was decided that upon these should the science +and art of the tradespeople of A—— be first +employed.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Come, come, Fanny, you have been here +long enough for to-day,” said Richard. “Do go +down before you are quite chilled or suffocated.” +Fanny declared herself in no danger of either +the one or the other calamity. She was at the +moment looking abroad upon the park at her +feet, and the mountainous range behind, and +feared nothing so much as this being pronounced +an unfit residence for her, and her +return to London insisted upon. She waited +anxiously for the reply to the steward’s question,—</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What do you think of the place, sir? Have +you any idea of living in it, now you see what +it is?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O yes, if you have people at hand who can +set it to rights, and if——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>His brothers understood the contortion of his +long form, and laughed.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And if,” said they, “anybody will be master +instead of you. Leave it to us.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_1.13'>13</span>Wallace would enjoy nothing so much as such +an excuse for making the most of a fine sporting +season; and James had no objection to go backwards +and forwards between Fellbrow and his +new living,—taking what sport he could get at +the one place, and perhaps amusing himself with +building a house at the other.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“As for the quality of the tradespeople, sir,” +said the steward, “you will be better off than if +you had happened to come a while ago. Among +other things that the new road has brought us, +sir, is a number of better workmen than we had +before. Some of the old folks, who cannot give +up their custom of doing their work as slow as +they please, and charging what they like, are apt +to stand grumbling at their doors, with their +hands in their pockets. But what you have to +do with, sir, is the new-comers, in the new part +of the town, who will be glad of the opportunity +of keeping a-head in the competition, and doing +your work out of hand.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I had rather employ the old ones who used +to work for my father, if they will bestir themselves +to serve me properly.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I doubt they won’t, sir; and I would not +have you think yourself under obligation to employ +them. They have made, and are making, +provision enough for themselves out of your property +already.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>What could this mean? The gentlemen must +ask Morse. Morse, the gamekeeper? Then it +was meant that the tradesmen and work-people +of A—— were poachers. But which? It could +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.14'>14</span>not surely be meant that glaziers and carpenters, +shoemakers and chimney-sweepers, made any +hand of poaching. The steward supposed time +would show what sort of men the gangs were +composed of. This much he knew; that the +people he alluded to spoke of the falling off of +their business for the sake of new-comers, and of +the weight of their taxation, as if they thought +it justified their laying hands on a property which +they did not consider as a property; which was +the case with game all over the world.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Wallace threatened to rectify the notions of +the people of A—— as to property very speedily, +if they ventured to interfere with the present or +future sport of himself and his brothers. James, +meanwhile, was hoping that the poachers had +not, at any time, found the way to the cellars. +If the carpets were left on the floors to rot, and +the books on the shelves to grow mouldy, it +would be very hard that there should be no wine +in the cellars to ripen. He proposed that a +descent should be effected for purposes of search, +and that a supply of any which might be found +should be sent to the inn, as it was scarcely likely +that wine of a good quality could be met with +there. The steward had a word to say in favour +of the wine at the Turk’s Head; but added, that +he knew the cellars under their feet to be well-stocked, +both with ale and wines, which must +now be in fine order.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mrs. Day had more thoughts about the levity +of young people when she saw how the family +issued from the old mansion, after their first +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.15'>15</span>greeting of it. The clergyman seemed to be +taking equal care about the conveyance of his +sister and some crusted port; and Wallace was +vociferating for glasses, as he was bent on trying +the ale upon the spot. The steward was nearly +as grave as herself; but for him there was the +comfort of having employment, and the countenance +and encouragement of a master once more. +He was relieved from the misery of seeing the +property going to ruin; and, after all, as he comforted +himself with saying, let these young men +be as wild as they will, they can never be so +eccentric as their poor father,—at least, not if they +had the least touch of their mother in them.</p> + +<h3 id='ch1.2' class='c012'><span class='sc'>Chapter II.</span> <br> <br> PATRIMONIAL APPENDAGES.</h3> + +<p class='c017'>Whatever the steward might have to say in +favour of the new workmen of A—— over the +old, he did not wish the preference to apply in +the case of a choice of innkeepers. His old +acquaintance, Pritchard, of the Turk’s Head, +was warmly patronised by him, in opposition to +the upstart at the Navarino, who, with all his +show of balconies and a splendid furnishing of +his bar, treated his guests with sour wines and +cold rooms.</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_1.16'>16</span>As might be supposed, so rare a party of +inmates was indulged with all the luxury that +Pritchard could afford. In hopes of diverting +them from their intention of taking their sister +for a little tour among the lakes while a corner +of the house at Fellbrow was being prepared for +her, the host of the Turk’s Head took care that +she should be worshipped as if she had been a +rich ward on her way to Gretna. Every time +she moved, the entire household seemed to start +to anticipate her wishes. She was made so comfortable +at the inn, and she so thoroughly enjoyed +the beauties of the park and neighbourhood +of Fellbrow, that there was little fear that she +would desire to go to the lakes, or anywhere else, +while awaiting her reception in what she wished +to be her future home. The only circumstance +that annoyed her was the notice she excited in +the town, or at least in the neighbourhood of the +inn. Pritchard shook his head over this, as over +a grievance which could only be lamented, when +any one could have told that his bragging, and +his complacency, and his confidences had given +the Cranstons half the consequence which caused +them to be watched through shop-windows, waylaid +by loungers, and talked over by gossips. A +large portion of the remaining half might be +ascribed to the extraordinary accession of goods, +chattels, and followers which they brought into +the place.</p> + +<p class='c001'>The half-deserted street in which Mrs. Barton, +the perfumer, lived had not afforded such a sight +for many a day as might now be witnessed morning +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.17'>17</span>and evening. Maynard, Miss Cranston’s old +serving-man, took the young lady’s spaniel out +for an airing twice a day; and all the inhabitants +who remained in the neighbourhood soon learned +to watch for the approach of the curious pair,—the +prim beau, with his pig-tail hanging down +his back, and the animal, no less spruce in its +jacket of the finest flannel, tied with blue ribbons.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Miss Biggs!—do make haste, Miss Biggs!” +cried Mrs. Barton to her shopwoman. “Did +you ever see such a fine head for powder as the +old gentleman has? Quite one of the old school, +I will answer for it;—the school for manners, as +I say.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Miss Biggs smiled sweetly as Maynard came +up the street, and pronounced the phenomenon +charming. She had not a very distinct idea of +what the old school was; for while Mrs. Barton +was always praising it, and might therefore be +supposed a pupil, she was, in dress, of the very +newest school she could get any tidings of, and, +in manners, of no school but her own. She had +one scholar in Miss Biggs, who had, by this time, +learned to hang her head as far to the left as her +mistress to the right. She had not Mrs. Barton’s +prime requisite—an extremely wide mouth—for +smiling; but she did not fall behind her in drawling +and universal sympathy.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“It is really a privilege,” said Mrs. Barton, +withdrawing her head from between two glasses +of wash-balls, “to see such a fine old relic of +Church and King, which always has my vote.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And mine, I am sure: I am always for +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.18'>18</span>Church and King,” replied Miss Biggs. “So +different, you see, ma’am, from the upstarts, with +not a grain in their hair, that come to the new +inn, and are gone! Do you think, ma’am, we +shall have the gentleman’s custom for powder? +Perhaps if——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mrs. Barton was already sailing round the +counter, and she reached the door in time to prepare +a deep curtsey for Maynard. The old man +looked behind him, to make sure that the obeisance +was meant for him, and then took off his +hat, and offered a bow of the last century. Mrs. +Barton did not leave him long uncertain whether +he was to pass on or stay. Might she presume +to hope that self-love was to be flattered by the +stranger’s approbation of the old town?</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Dear ma’am,” interposed Miss Biggs, “how +can we expect that strangers should feel as we +do towards our old town? Is it reasonable, dear +ma’am?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>All were ready to agree in this; but Maynard +protested that it was not a town to be despised. +He admired enthusiasm in behalf of one’s native +place——</p> + +<p class='c001'>O! how good he was to say so!</p> + +<p class='c001'>And independent of this, he saw much to admire +in A——. The church-tower was a great +ornament; and the market-place was remarkable +for a town of the size. He was sorry to see so +many shops shut up in this quarter; and that +red-brick meeting-house——</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ah! there—there, sir, you touch a tender +point. Our dissenters,—I am ashamed to say it, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.19'>19</span>I assure you,—our dissenters are so——O, dear +sir! You cannot think what a weight it is upon +our minds,—upon loyal minds, sir, that espouse +Church and King.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, sir!” added Miss Biggs, “I hope Church +and King is your motto. I am sure <i>you</i> must +be loyal.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Maynard flattered himself that he was so; and +he had been put to a pretty strong trial on that +head,—so much as he had been in France.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“In France!—in that land of rebellion and +conflagration, and blasphemy!” Mrs. Barton +shuddered, and Miss Biggs followed her example. +They begged pardon,—they did not mean to hurt +his feelings,—but, if they set foot in that place, +they should expect a judgment to overtake them +before they could get back again.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Perhaps so; unless they went in the way of +duty, the old gentleman said: but he went in the +way of duty,—in the service of his young lady; +notwithstanding which, he was very glad to get +back again. He had had an idea, before he went, +that he should find everybody wearing powder; +but, if it used to be so, it was not so now.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mrs. Barton had once found herself in a precisely +similar mistake, which Miss Biggs allowed +to be very remarkable. When our gentry began +to return after the war, there was really very little +more hair-powder issued from her shop than before. +She had looked forward to this as a set-off, +if Miss Biggs remembered, against the increase +of rent which her landlord clapped on in +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.20'>20</span>proportion as people came home to live. Heaven +knew she was loyal in her heart, and ready +to assist the war as long as his Majesty chose +to fight; but she could not but feel that she had +borne her full share. She had renewed her lease +at a higher rent, in the prospect of more custom, +and then found that the tax on hair-powder,—a +tax laid on to help the war,—had put people off +wearing hair-powder!</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And your rent was not low, during the war, +I dare say, ma’am. Though you let it be raised +afterwards, I dare say it was high enough before. +You like these times of low rents much better, I +don’t doubt.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Low rents!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Better!” cried the ladies, looking piteously +at each other.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Why, let me see. There are a great many +empty houses in this street, ma’am. House rent +cannot be high here, though you are in the +neighbourhood of the market.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But my lease, dear sir. Ah! there is the +point, you see. When my lease was renewed, +this street was the great thoroughfare of the town. +It is untold the traffic there was,—it is indescribable +the gentlemen’s carriages that used to pass +my door, before people went out of their minds, +as I say, about the new inn, and all the building +that has gone on in that quarter.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“For my part, I have never countenanced such +doings,” said Miss Biggs, “going so far as to +take my walk the other way on Sundays. To +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.21'>21</span>build new houses, when such as these that you +see are standing——but the rage for building +exceeds everything.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“That came of the high rents,” said Maynard. +“There was too much building by far, in most +places.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And the new road. O! the opening of that +new road! I shall never forget it. And my +lease with six years to run from that very day.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“It was a bad speculation, indeed, ma’am, +Speculators in leases should take care——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mrs. Barton looked full of woe at being called +a speculator. She had the testimony of her conscience +that she did not deserve it.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I mean no offence, I assure you, ma’am,” +continued Maynard. “I mean no more than +that every tenant who takes a lease is a speculator. +If you agree to pay so much rent, and be +answerable for so much tax, for fourteen years, +and the tax happens to be presently taken off——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The bare idea seemed to afford rapture.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Your bargain turns out a good one; and the +same if the neighbourhood improves, so as to +render your situation a more desirable one than it +was before. Your case, you say, is the reverse. +Rent and tax remain as they were, and the +neighbourhood is less desirable than it was; +and so I say it is a bad speculation to you. ’Tis +a pity you can’t take up your house, and carry it +to the new road, and set it down there.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Maynard was easily convinced how clever he +should be thought, if he could put the ladies in +the way of doing this. Such a very capital idea! +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.22'>22</span>the ladies thought it, till told that it was not +original;—that in America such a thing had been +heard of and seen as the removal of a dwelling +on wheels.</p> + +<p class='c001'>The speculation was followed out;—how charming +it must be to the owner of the house to be able +to put it where it would be sure of bringing a good +rent till it was worn out, instead of placing it, as +now, where there was no certainty of how much +or how little it would be in request twenty years +hence.—How charming it would be to the tenant +to have the power of wheeling himself into any +position he liked, or of obtaining a reduction of +rent in case of the desired ground being preoccupied! +(for in those circumstances, rent would be +precisely proportioned to the advantages of the +locality.) How charming, lastly, to the government, +to receive the house-tax in a steady proportion +which none could dispute: for no house-tax +could then be collected unless it were lowered +<i>ad valorem</i>. No one who could move away +would stay in a poor situation, to pay a tax as +high as had been imposed in a favourable locality. +Equity would be the order of the day, Mrs. Barton +decided, if houses went on wheels; and +landlords, tenants, and assessors might be all +loyal and harmonious together.—Miss Biggs put +her head out at the door to take a survey of the +solid front of the dwelling, while her mistress +tried the stability of the foundations with her toe. +There was little hope that this house could be +set upon wheels. The house would be even more +difficult to shift than the lease.</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_1.23'>23</span>Mrs. Barton next declared herself liable to +nearly as much sorrow for her neighbours’ afflictions +as for her own; during which announcement +her companion smiled with arch amiability at Maynard. +Mr. Pritchard, at the Turk’s Head, paid prodigiously +in the articles of rent and taxes; and how +he had suffered from his Navarino rival could only +be known to those who had been formerly accustomed +to see the sporting gentry throng to his +inn at this season. He was once proud of +the consequence of his inn, as shown by the +charges it had to bear; but now, he talked very +differently, poor man, about such charges. He +had been heard to say, more than once lately, +a thing—a fact—something which he would +hardly say to the young gentlemen who were now +occupying his best apartments.—What could this +be?—After much pressing on the one side, and +“Shall I, Miss Biggs?” on the other, it appeared +that Pritchard complained of his house having been +for years taxed nearly three times as much as +Fellbrow itself. No one could believe it, as Mrs. +Barton had told the complainant. It was impossible +that any one could credit it.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I can, ma’am,” said Maynard. “I heard a +good deal of that matter in London; and I dare +say some of the same ridiculous confusion and +partiality,—or I should rather say inequality,—may +exist in this place. But, halloo, what comes +here? Please to let me in, ladies. If you will +let me in, and shut the door—I never could +abide these packs of those animals,—a very different +thing from carrying one quiet little creature +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.24'>24</span>like this. There! look how it hugs me, at the very +hearing and sight of the pack! Now we shall +do!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mrs. Barton rejoiced in such an opportunity +for hospitality. She became suddenly remarkably +afraid of a pack of harriers, and took care that +the door was fastened as securely as if harriers +had been especially addicted to eating and +drinking pomatum and lavender water. Miss +Biggs kneeled to the spaniel, and coaxed it till +sent by a sign from her mistress to bring a little +glass of fine cordial for their guest, whom they +declared they should keep fast prisoner till all +danger of encountering that dreadful pack of +dogs was past. There was an upper window from +which their progress could be traced for some +distance; and the cook was called from cooking +the “little rasher” to take her station at this +watch-post. Maynard had so much to say about +his young master’s love of sport, and his young +mistress’s virtues and graces, and the wealth of +them all, that there was little chance of the spaniel +having its usual airing this morning. The inventory +of Mr. Cranston’s dogs, with the necessary +comments, consumed as much time as would +have carried Fanny’s favourite a couple of miles +on the moor.</p> + +<p class='c001'>The pack and the huntsman were not without +their admirers, meanwhile. Among the many +who looked knowingly or joyously on them, none +were more emphatic than Mr. Taplin,—the lawyer, +as he was called before he failed,—the assessor, +as he had been generally named since his friends +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.25'>25</span>had procured him the appointment. What a fine +set of new subjects for assessment had he in this +family of the Cranstons! How many servants +and carriages! Armorial bearings, of course; +and here was the huntsman; and besides this +pack, there were Mr. James’s pointers, and Miss +Cranston’s spaniel, and the fine terrier of Mr. +Wallace. Then there were horses in abundance +on the road, he understood. It was a pity the +house and window duties could not be made more +suitable in amount to such a mansion as that at +Fellbrow. He must try, for the sake of justice, +as well as of his own pocket, to contrive an increase. +He trusted that such wealthy and high-spirited +young men would not be troublesome as +to the amount of tax they were to pay,—either +for their habitations or their pleasures.</p> + +<p class='c001'>He stood watching the picturesque group for +some time after it had reached the Paddock,—a +place well known to every sporting gentleman +who passed through A——. The Paddock was +the residence of a noted horse-dealer; and Swallow, +the tenant, had had the honour of welcoming +to his stables almost every man of note in +his particular line in the kingdom. Many a +characteristic group might be seen in the shadow +of his spacious gateway. Many an honoured +voice might be heard in oath or laughter from his +range of stables; and many a hero of the field +had trod the grass of the ample paddock in the +rear. The thresher in Mr. Whitford’s barn sometimes +laid aside his flail to watch the curiously-coated +and hatted gentry who were let into the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.26'>26</span>sacred enclosure; and the thresher’s son, a +shepherd-boy on the sheep-walk above, stood to +wonder at the friskiness of the fine animals in +Swallow’s field.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Swallow was not sorry that the dogs had +come by this road, as it was of importance to +him to establish a friendly intercourse with Mr. +Cranston’s huntsman; but the present moment +was not exactly that which he would have chosen +for their arrival. Half an hour later would have +been better. A van, on its way to London, was +at the door. It could not wait; and certain +packages must be put into it whose contents +could scarcely fail to be guessed by the huntsman, +any more than by the gamekeeper. It was provoking +that the girls were out. They would have +got the packages in at the back of the van very +cleverly, while he was amusing the huntsman +with a glass of liquor and conversation. He +must try whether George could take the hint.</p> + +<p class='c001'>George was less quick at taking a hint than +he would have been if he had not been accustomed +to depend much on his sisters. He was not +ashamed of being excelled by them, and, in a +manner, taken care of by them, they having, as +he always said, each a double mind, with which +his single one could not pretend to compete. +These girls were twins, and more perfectly alike +in mind (if possible) than in form and feature. +Their brother, still a rough and sadly careless +boy, laughed at them, was proud of them, and +depended upon them. The book which every +horse-dealer is by law obliged to keep open to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.27'>27</span>the inspection of the assessor was left in George’s +charge by his father, who had him educated sufficiently +to qualify him for making the necessary +entries of sales. George was perpetually warned +of the heavy penalties to which his father would +be liable if the due entries were not made, if the +book was not always kept open to the observation +of the assessor, and regularly delivered in, +every quarter, for examination and discharge; +but it is probable that his father would more than +once have been compelled to disburse the penalty, +if Anne and Sarah had not been on the watch to +guard against his carelessness. It was indeed a +pity that they were absent now. George was so +busy forming friendships with the dogs that his +father’s coughs and winks were disregarded; and +package after package was brought out and left +within sight and scent, while room was being +made for each in the van. In vain did Swallow +interpose his broad shoulders and offer snuff. +The huntsman was mounted, and could see what +was passing in the rear; and he was moreover +not to be persuaded to take a pinch. Swallow +saw that his new acquaintance had picked up a +notion at the Paddock which would not be long +in reaching the owner of the Fellbrow preserves.</p> + +<p class='c001'>George’s mind had risen a flight too high to be +brought down this morning by usual influences. +He was off with the harriers, in the midst, and +almost as fleet as any of them, before his father’s +angry voice roused his ear. He looked back a +moment, saw the assessor entering the gateway, +supposed his father would find the book if it was +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.28'>28</span>wanted, and immediately heard nothing more +than the greetings of the dogs.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“There is no knowing now,” growled his +father, “when we shall get the lad back again. +He had rather kennel with the dogs than come +home to his business, any day of the year.—The +book! O, it is at your service, I don’t doubt.—Let +me see: where can the boy have hid it? +My family are all out, you see, sir. If it is +equally convenient, I will send one of them with +the book, this afternoon.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Show it me now, Swallow. I don’t call this +keeping the book open for my inspection at all +times. Make haste, and find it, if you please. +Your boy is not the only one of the family, I +fancy, who has the taste you describe,—for sport +rather than business. Hey, Swallow? But you +will remember the gentlemen are on the spot now, +and take care of yourself, I suppose. Remember +they are on the spot, I advise you.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“It would be rather hard to forget it,” replied +the horse-dealer; “so many shows as they have +brought into this quiet place. There is not a +soul in A—— but is watching them from +morning till night,—except, indeed, the people +(and they are not few) that are swarming about +the Fellbrow house, like bees building their comb. +Here’s the book, sir; and when I have added the +sale I made half-an-hour ago——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>While Swallow was laboriously scrawling +his two lines, the assessor walked off. There +was no room for talk of penalties in his department +this day. He would come again when all +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.29'>29</span>the Mr. Cranstons’ riding-horses should have +arrived, and would want to be discussed. Swallow +looked after Mr. Taplin, saying to himself, +“Fine talk that, of my taking care of myself +against the gentlemen, when he himself is in as +deep as any of us! If he threatens me, I can +bid him look to his own share.”</p> + +<h3 id='ch1.3' class='c012'><span class='sc'>Chapter III.</span><br> <br> CLERICAL DUTY.</h3> + +<p class='c017'>October was not half gone before a sufficient +portion of the Fellbrow house was made habitable +to accommodate the family. Fanny’s rapture was +great when the ugly high wall was in process of +being demolished, to give place to the light fence +which would not exclude such a view as her eyes +desired to rest upon as long as the sun was above +the horizon. These October mornings were glorious. +One especially, when the whole family +were anxious for fine weather, equalled any that +she had enjoyed in a southern climate. It was to +be a morning of fishing,—the first regular fishing +party since their arrival; and Fanny was at her +window before the rich hues of the sunrise had +melted from the northern mountain tops, or the +white frost evaporated from the unsunned lawn. +The face of the limestone rocks opposite was grey +in the shadow, and the stream below was yet black +as if it had no bottom; but the rays were abroad +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.30'>30</span>which would soon make it gleam at every bend, +and paint in it the reflection of the autumn leaves +that yet danced above it when the breeze sported +in the overhanging coppice on the hither side. +Some of the loftiest trees in the park already +began to be lighted up; and on a green platform +of the retiring rocks, the blue roofs of a little +hamlet glistened in the gush of sunshine poured +upon them through the chasm which brought the +waters from the heights to the cisterns at the doors +of the inhabitants. Already might the hind be +distinguished, pacing forth warily from the thicket, +and looking from side to side, while her fawn +bounded past her, breast-high in the hoar grass. +Already might the shepherd and his dog be distinguished +on the faint track of the sheep-walk, now +driving their scudding flock, and now letting them +disperse themselves over the upland. Already were +lively voices heard below the window, and already +were busy hands making a picturesque display of +nets and wicker baskets on the grass. Never was +there a lovelier morning seen; and Fanny’s spirits +were braced to their highest pitch when she +threw open her lattice,—(how much more willingly +than she would have thrown up the sash!) +and sent a greeting down to her brother James +who was talking with one of the men.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Who is going to ride?” she asked, seeing +that a groom was leading a saddled horse. +“Who wants Diamond this morning, James?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I do. Ah! it is a great plague that anybody +should want to be buried this morning, of all +mornings. But I put the people off before, and +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.31'>31</span>I cannot do it again. I can get it over, with +what else I have to do, before you have finished +your sport, if you will only make me sure where +I may find you. That is what I am settling now; +and then I am off.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But what else have you to do? A marriage +or two, perhaps?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Very likely; and three or four more funerals. +They find they must make the most of me when +they can catch me. But the business I mean is, +looking about to see where I shall build my +house. You ought to be with me for that. If +your mare was but here, I would make you give +up the fishing for to-day, and ride over with +me.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I will do that when you know there is to be +a wedding or two. The little brides will not object +to my seeing them married, I dare say; and +I should like to make acquaintance with these +mountain brides that you used to talk so finely +about before——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Before I saw them:—before I knew how +confoundedly they would come in the way of +sport. I have seen none yet that it would be +worth your while to ride seven miles to make acquaintance +with. I don’t see how they are better +than the Easter-Monday brides in Birmingham, +in tawdry shawls and flying ribbons. If they +have not such gay shawls, they are ten times +more dull and silly: so, if you mean to keep your +romance about them, you must keep your distance, +too. Good-bye: only be so good as not to leave +Moystarn before two, unless you see me sooner. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.32'>32</span>I’ll make Diamond do his duty this morning. +Good-bye.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Diamond had no other inclination than to do +his duty. Once having cleared the park, he +brought all the little children out of the cottages +by the sound of his firm and rapid trot on the +hard road. Their mothers curtseyed at the doors +and windows, inspired with an equal respect for +the handsome rider and his sleek steed; and the +labourers turned round from their work on the +fences and in the fields to smile the vacant smile +with which they honoured passengers who took +their fancy. It was not Diamond’s fault that he +was urged on so nearly over a child as to be +obliged to bolt to avoid the sin of manslaughter. +It was not his fault that he could not, before he +reached the brook, slacken his speed sufficiently +to avoid splashing the fair horsewomen who were +crossing at the time. For this last offence he received +a more severe punishment from his master +than for any preceding. The flogging was so +vigorous, and Diamond’s resentment of it so +strong, that he bolted once more into the water, +and there made a splashing which sent the ripples +of the clear stream in chase of one another, +high and low. The boy on the foot bridge +shrank from the wetting, and the horsewomen +retired right and left to watch the issue. Each +patted her pony’s neck; each laughed as Diamond +turned round and round; each prepared to use +the switch, when her own pony began to exhibit +signs of restlessness. James was so far struck +with this amidst his contest with Diamond, that +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.33'>33</span>he looked curiously at the pair when he came up +finally out of the brook. He was as much amused +as surprised at what he beheld. No twins that +he had ever seen could compare with these for +likeness. It was not only the colour of the eyes +and of the hair, and the frame of the features; +much less the perfect similarity of their dress, +and of the animals they rode. The glance was +the very same, revealing an identity of mind. +They were now side by side, and he perceived +that every touch of the rein was the same. +Smiles came and went as if from one heart; and +yet they did not look at each other, except to +agree which should utter the words that were on +the tongues of both. If they had been less pretty +than they were, James could not have pushed on +his way as before. His curiosity was so amused, +that he laughed without restraint; and could +scarcely repent having done so when he saw the +blush and confused gravity of each little face +which filled up its close straw bonnet.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“That boy is like you, though less like than +you are to each other,” observed James. “I +suppose he is your brother?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Yes, sir; our brother George. People think +him most like father.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And you most like your mother? Your +mother must be a very pretty woman. Is not +she?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>There was no answer. The girls were too +busy trying to help laughing. In order to find +out whether this arose from the mother being +otherwise than pretty, or from the daughters +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.34'>34</span>liking to be complimented, James went on to +praise their riding. They took this as a matter +of course, having been in the habit of riding +almost as regularly as of dining, all their lives. +How could they contrive rides for every day?</p> + +<p class='c001'>“We have always some place that we must +go to, especially at this time of the year; and +sometimes it is a weary round before we can get +home. We are going one of our longest rides +to-day.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“To some market, I should have thought, if +your pack-saddles had not been empty. Why do +you use empty pack-saddles?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“They will not be empty long, sir. Anne has +begun to load her’s, you see.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“So her name is Anne. What is your’s? +Sarah? Very well; I shall know Anne from +Sarah by her having a load on her pack-saddle. +Pray do your parents know you from each +other?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Dear, yes, Sir! except just in the twilight.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Yet your voices are the same. I would give +a crown-piece to know whether one voice ever +gets above the other,—whether you ever quarrel. +I do not see how you can well help it; for you +must often want the same thing at the same time—something +that you cannot both have.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>What sort of thing did he mean ? Almost +everything that could not be divided might be +used by them together.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And do you always wish the same thing, and +think the same thing?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“We do presently, if we don’t directly. Good-bye, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.35'>35</span>sir; we are going down this lane to the +farm-house.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But you will have to come out upon this +road again: there is no other path away from +that farm-house. I shall go with you.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You must not; they will not want you. We +shall not stay two minutes.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Then I shall wait for you.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Oh, thank you, sir! We will make haste. +George has run on already, you see: he goes no +farther than here; so we can get on faster than +we have been going.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Stop! Why should you both go? There +is George to take care of one. Anne, do you +stay with me, and let the empty saddle go down +the lane.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Left alone with Anne, the gentleman began to +animate her with praises of her native district. +She agreed that it was a pretty part to ride in for +pleasure. She supposed the gentleman rode for +pleasure.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Not exactly so to-day, though I do not pretend that my +ride is not a very pleasant one just +now. I am going to bury a child. Yes: you +need not look so shocked; I did not say I was +going to kill a child. You would have children +buried when they die, would not you?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Yes, sir; but we did not know that you were +a clergyman;” and she looked as if she had +thoughts of dismounting to make a curtsey.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O yes, I am a clergyman; and besides burying +a child a good deal younger than you, perhaps +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.36'>36</span>I may have to marry a girl very little older +than you.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“That will be Catherine Scott, perhaps,” observed +Anne; “she was eighteen last July. Do +you think she will be married to-day, sir? I +think she might have told us, however.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You had better ride on with me, and take +her by surprise. Come, give your pony the switch +a little. Never mind Sarah,” seeing her look +back; “she will overtake us presently. Her +saddle is not loaded, you know.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Anne shook her head: Sarah was not in sight; +and the faithful twin evidently meditated turning +back. If the gentleman would go forward, she +said, and not keep the family waiting for the +burial, Sarah and she might come up in time to +see the marriage, if it should be Catherine +Scott’s. James muttered something about being +late, and gave her pony such a cut with his whip +as sent the animal forward at a rate that Sarah +was scarcely likely to surpass; and, by keeping +half a length in the rear, he sustained the pony’s +panic, and baffled all the damsel’s attempts to +check its speed. This lasted till they came within +sight of a row of cottages, at the door of one of +which was a funeral train, just beginning to form. +It would not do, even James perceived, for the +mourners to see him galloping to the churchyard +in a race with a country girl. He turned her +horse, as well as his own, into a field, and then +stopped to laugh. In answer to Anne’s reproaches, +he declared that he only wanted to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.37'>37</span>make her do something unlike her sister for once. +He rode between her and the gate of the field, +saying that, before she went, she must tell him +whether she did not think this field the very place +to build a house upon. If she would only look +up at the view to the north, and measure with her +eye the distance from the church——</p> + +<p class='c001'>“There’s Sarah!” cried Anne, cleverly wheeling +her pony round, and effecting her escape. +She was off, like an arrow from a bow; and +Sarah might be seen hastening hitherward over +a heath, about a mile and a half distant.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“They will come together point-blank, like +knights in a single combat,” thought James. “I +must be there to pick them up, if they are unhorsed. +I must find a gap in the fence, lower +down, that these people about the cottages may +not be scandalized. I must behave well to-day, +when once I have seen what those girls are +doing.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>When met, they were pacing side by side, +looking equally offended. James could scarcely +appear as penitent as he intended, so infinitely +amused was he at the perfect resemblance of the +twins being preserved and made more striking +amidst their change of mood. If Anne looked +heated by her violent exercise, Sarah was not +less so through fear and resentment. Both +glanced away from him; neither would turn the +head when he spoke. The tendency to ponder +the ground was rather the strongest in Anne: +as she had lost out of her glove the sixpence she +had brought to pay the turnpike. What turnpike?—where +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.38'>38</span>was it? Half a mile beyond the +church.—Oh! that would do very well. If they +would go on, and wait for him there, he would +come to them when his service was done, and +take their opinion about where he should build his +house, and then Anne should not be left behind +for want of a sixpence: they would proceed all +together. He heard Anne say to her sister that +he would serve her the same trick that he had +played Sarah, and that she did not believe he +had any child to bury, nor any such thing.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Only come on and see, Miss Anne,” said he. +“You shall get into the grave yourself, if you +like, to make sure; only I suppose you would +not go in without your sister. But, really now, +if you will help me to settle where I shall build +my house, I will help you with your business +afterwards, if you will only tell me what it is.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>And he looked narrowly at the sacks with +which the saddles were provided.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Picking up poultry,” the girls replied, “to +send to London by the van.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Poultry! I shall begin to listen for a cock-a-doodle-doo, +such as once kept me awake all the +way to London, when I went in a stage-coach. +Shall we have a cock-a-doodle-doo presently?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“We take the poultry up dead.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ah! dead. Now, does this belong to a +chicken, or a turkey, or what?” drawing out a +long pheasant’s feather, whose tip had just peeped +out of a hole in the sack. Sarah snatched the +feather, and tickled Diamond’s nose with it, so +that Diamond’s master had no attention to spare +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.39'>39</span>for more questions for some time. There was no +doubt that Anne would have done the same, if +she had chanced to be next him; for she did not +laugh with surprise, but smiled, as at a corroboration +of an idea of her own. The act was +Sarah’s, however; and she had immediately the +advantage of Anne in the gentleman’s estimation. +He now saw that there was certainly a something +more in the one sister than in the other,—a +drollery in the eyes—an archness about the +mouth. It was to Sarah’s side that he returned +when Diamond was once more subdued. Before +he sent them on to the turnpike, he had been +almost whispering to her, saying something +which Anne had not heard, though she now +stooped forward on her saddle, and now leaned +over behind her sister, and finally rode round to +James’s other side to listen, being as yet unaware +that anything would ever be said to either +which the other might not share.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You must go now,” said she, tired at last of +not being able to catch what he was saying. +“Those people are the weddingers. See to the +bride’s silk gown! and it is no more like Catherine +Scott——How came you to tell me so?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>When James had explained that he did not +pretend to know brides’ names till they asked +him to change them, he drew off from his companions, +with a final glance in the direction of +the turnpike, and directed his horse, with all sobriety +of demeanour, towards the vestry. The +sisters were at last convinced that he was a clergyman, +when they saw the uncovered heads of +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.40'>40</span>the men, and the obeisances of the women and +children, amidst which he moved to the discharge +of his duty.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“There, I knew it would be so! How people +do plague one—some with wanting to be married, +and some with their squeamish troubles, as if +nobody but the parson could do anything for +them,” said he to himself when, on reaching the +turnpike at last, no horsewomen were to be seen. +“To be sure, I don’t know who else should serve +the people’s turn hereabouts, unless they would +step across the border to the blacksmith, and +advertise for a methodist to hear them confess. +But here are the blessings of having a living! +These pretty creatures are tired of the very idea +of me, I don’t doubt, after being kept waiting +till they had no patience left.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>He was mistaken; the girls had not waited at +all, but gone straight through, rather in a hurry +than not, the gatekeeper said. One of them had +explained that she had lost her sixpence on the +road, and had left her silver thimble in pledge of +payment, to be redeemed the next time she should +pass that way. James, of course, redeemed the +thimble, which he tried on his little finger end +before he consigned it to his waistcoat pocket. +It betokened as small a finger as need be seen; +but that only made it the greater pity that the +thimble was not Sarah’s.</p> + +<p class='c001'>The gatekeeper was deplorably stupid about +the girls. He did not seem to know which was +meant by the pretty one; and could give no +further account of them than that they set off, at +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.41'>41</span>a brisk trot, along the cross-road to the right. +He could not even tell whether they meant to go +to the large farm-house that might be seen standing +back from this road. There was nothing for +it but going to learn on the spot; so James left +the situation of his house to be discussed hereafter, +and was presently at the gate of the farm.</p> + +<p class='c001'>The farmer knew the girls, he acknowledged; +could not deny he had seen them to-day—just +for a minute—an hour ago or more;—supposed +they were at home by this time;—advised the +gentleman to come in and have a snack and a +glass of ale, and he would talk to him about +ground for his house. James recollected, now +that the chase had escaped him, that he really +was hungry, and had some miles to ride, at the +end of which he might find nothing in the shape +of provisions but fish in their dying agonies. It +was true, he had refused the hospitality of others +of his flock;—of the old schoolmaster, who stood, +hat in hand, at his humble door, ready to usher +in the clergyman; of the late clerk’s widow, who +had taken pains to spread her board for him; of +the mourners, who had hoped to receive at home +a confirmation of the words of solace which had +been spoken at the grave. All this he had declined, +on the plea of extreme haste; but this was +no reason that he should not now avail himself +of the farmer’s cakes and ale. He gave his +horse to the boy who had just stopped from +swinging on a gate, and entered the dwelling.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Don’t let me disturb you, I beg, ma’am,” +said James to the farmer’s wife, who was hearing +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.42'>42</span>her little boy say his letters when her husband +and the clergyman entered. “While you go on +with your lessons, Mr. Riley will tell me where +to look for a piece of land to build upon. Your +little boy will be all the sooner ready to say his +catechism, you know, if you go on steadily. So +do not let me disturb you.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mr. Riley bowed; Mrs. Riley blushed, and +took up her scissars once more to point with: +but apparently little Harry did not appreciate the +desirableness of soon knowing his catechism, +for he called every letter F, whether it stood at +the top, bottom, or middle of the page. According +to him, F stood for apple, F for fig, and +F for window. He was told to turn his head towards +his mamma, instead of quite away from his +book; and the head was soon in its right place; +but the eyes still wandered off to the extreme +left, and F once more stood for pie. Then came +loud whispers,—“Who is that gentleman?” +“Will that gentleman fly my kite for me?” +“May I look through that gentleman’s spy-glass?” +“Is that the parson that will frown at +me if I don’t behave well at church?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>This was too much. Mr. Riley lost the thread +of his discourse; Mrs. Riley escaped from the +room, and James laughed, while the boy stood +staring at him.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“So you have got a kite. Will I help you to +fly it? Yes, that I will, some day.” And thus +was the guest entertained, till the tray made its +appearance, and the cloth was laid for a substantial +luncheon.</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_1.43'>43</span>“My dear sir, make no apologies. Here is +quite a feast, I see. By all means, ma’am; a +sausage, if you please. Your sausages are irresistible; +and especially with such game as this. +A leg, if you please, sir. A pheasant’s leg and +sausage is the most superb thing in the universe.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>No wonder the Rileys were flattered. The +most superb thing in the universe was under their +humble roof!</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I will try some day,” James continued, “if +I cannot supply you with another luncheon to +equal this. I will send you in some game as I +pass, the first time I shoot in your neighbourhood. +You relish game, I presume, Mrs. Riley?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mrs. Riley assented; then hesitated, and hoped +Mr. Cranston would not trouble himself to do as +he had said. The farmer declared that Mr. +Cranston was welcome to shoot over his farm, +but they could not accept any game. While +James was insisting, little Harry, who had been +sent away, ran in crying, and complaining that +he had lost his tail, and he could not get another.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“His tail? What sort of tail?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mrs. Riley explained that Harry was indulged +with the tail feathers of pheasants, and that he +therefore disliked the disappearance of game from +the pantry.</p> + +<p class='c001'>There were so many this morning, the boy +complained, and now they were all gone! There +were a great many indeed, hanging all in a row, +and Nancy had promised him all the tails. Now +there was not one left. “O dear, O dear! what +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.44'>44</span>shall I do without my tail?” was the boy’s pathetic +lamentation.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“If you will let me carry you on my horse +after those young ladies who were here this +morning, I dare say they can give us the very +tails that were in the pantry,” observed James, +looking askance at the farmer as he spoke. “But, +Harry, don’t you like fur tails as well as feather +tails? If you were a girl, you might make a +fur tippet for your doll’s throat of a pretty, soft, +white rabbit’s tail.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Harry made a hop, skip, and jump to a cupboard, +and brought out a string of hares’ and +rabbits’ tails, tied together with string, which promised +to be soon as long as the leech-line of a +fisherman.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I see how it is,” said James, smiling. “I +am not the only person, I fancy, Mr. Riley, that +you make welcome to shoot over your farm and +in your neighbourhood.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Why, sir, to speak out, what else can we +farmers say to those that help away with the +vermin that do us all sorts of mischief?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ah! I suppose the birds plague you with +the people they bring upon your ground. I saw +one cover, I remember, standing alone in the +middle of some very wide fields of yours, with +not a hedge near enough to tempt a bird to stray; +and I thought I would try my luck there next.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You will be sure to find luck there, sir, +however many may come before you. You may +chance to see three hundred cock pheasants +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.45'>45</span>walking about there in one day. But the birds +are nothing to the hares, sir; I was very nearly +quarrelling with my farm, on account of the +hares; and should have done so, if my landlord +had not made me an allowance for them.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“How much does he allow you?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Two sacks of wheat per acre, sir.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Upon my word, you have a very kind landlord.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Not on this head, sir. My loss is much +greater than two sacks per acre, I can assure you. +Take the year round, and a hare is as expensive +as a sheep;—for this reason,—that the hare picks +the last particle of vegetation. If my grain +springs an eighth of an inch one day, and the +vermin nips seven hundred of the sprouts in a +day,—what sheep will ever cause me such damage +as that? I can stand and see the pheasants picking +up their berries and acorns, at this time of +the year, without wanting to wring every neck of +them; but, if you’ll believe me, sir,—and my +wife will bear me out, I never see a hare cross +the field I am in without swearing an oath at +her.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mrs. Riley not only corroborated this, but +added that Mr. Riley was still more cross with +rabbits.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“The rabbits! And well I may! They do +such mischief round the outskirts of my coppices, +that the wood will not be so fit to cut at the end +of twenty years as it would at the end of sixteen +without them. You cannot wonder, sir, that we +farmers cannot see poachers. They are a sort of +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.46'>46</span>thing we are blind to. If you consider, sir, that +there are six hundred acres of wheat land in this +parish, and that hares consume, at the least, two +sacks per acre, there are twelve hundred sacks of +corn taken from men to be given to hares. I +cannot think it a great sin, at this rate, to let +alone anybody that helps to root out the hares.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You should get your landlord to allow you +to shoot over your farm.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“’Tis done, sir; and what comes of that? +Every labourer in the parish may go and inform, +unless I do him some favour that will keep his +good-will; and if his liking should be for sport, +why, what can we do but let each other alone?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Then I am afraid the landlord’s only dependence +is on his own servants,—the tenant and +poacher being leagued against him.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“That sort of dependence is but small, especially +when gentlemen are not on the spot in +all seasons; as I may say to you, sir. There +may be such a thing as a league between the +poacher and the woodman;—just such a sort of +league to break the laws as there was till lately +between gentlemen and their woodmen.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“My dear, what are you saying?” interrupted +Mrs. Riley.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Only what Mr. Cranston knows to be true. +He knows that, till the sale of game was allowed +by law, gentlemen encouraged their servants +to sell the game the gentlemen themselves +shot. The woodmen that I have known used to +receive a quarter of the money so brought in. +And, after a sporting bout, when their masters +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.47'>47</span>had company staying with them for the purpose, +there was a higher allowance to the woodman, +from the consideration of the difficulty of disposing +of a large quantity of game at once.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I wonder how much a servant might make in +this manner?” observed James. “It is a pleasant +way enough of making a fortune.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You must consider, sir, how many the gains +have to be divided amongst. Where poaching +is done by gangs, as it is here, there are a great +number to share in the first instance. Then +there are the coachmen or van-drivers that +carry the game up to London, and the porters +that take charge of it there. Then the poulterers +must have their commission; double what +they have on poultry, on account of the risk. +And then there is the waste,—which is more +than is easily counted,—what with the game +being mangled, and killed out of season, and sent +up in a bad state. Pheasants are sent up long +after January, and hares with young; and sometimes +half a sackfull is good for nothing when it +is unpacked. All this can leave but little gain for +the woodman’s share.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And his gains must be most uncertain, too. +When he sends up a fine batch of game, he may +chance to find that the market is overstocked. +There can be no regularity of supply where it is +carried on in an illegal and underhand manner.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“That is true, sir; and I have heard from +people here, disappointed in the way you speak +of, that in the very middle of the season, when +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.48'>48</span>every dinner-table in the London gentry’s houses +had game upon it, full one-third of what was sent +up was thrown away. After hawking about what +was not quite past cooking, and selling birds for +a few pence to anybody that passed by, one +poulterer alone threw two thousand partridges into +the Thames. This makes our people here so +united as they are. They keep up a perfect understanding +all the way to London, that there +may be the less difficulty in poaching to order,—which +is the surest way to make money.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“To the poulterer’s order?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Yes. He sends down a message, perhaps, +that he has engaged to furnish some thousand +head a week for three weeks, and that he depends +upon this district; and then poaching is the order +of the day. By the time the job is done, the +newspapers begin to cry out. There is often +work for the coroner, before all is over; and account +is laid for a few going to prison; but where +all are banded together in prospect of this, the +going to prison is no disgrace, and not much of +a hardship; and the manslaughter comes to be +looked upon as a matter of course.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I shall tell my brother all this,” said James, +rising. “Not so as to implicate you,” he added, +perceiving that Mr. Riley looked alarmed. “Now +is the time, while I am at Fellbrow, to keep a +watch over our poaching neighbours. Pray do +they meddle with deer?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Your gamekeeper can tell you that better than +I can,” replied the farmer, now grown wary as to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.49'>49</span>his communications. “Would you like to step +abroad, sir, and look at the bit of ground I told +you of?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Why, yes: if you think the people below +have got no more funerals ready by this time.—Yes; +let us go,” he added gravely, upon seeing +Mrs. Riley’s glance of astonishment. “Mrs. Riley, +I owe you thanks for your hospitality. If I have +injured your son’s learning, I must do my best +to help him to make it up, by and bye, when he +may come to church without fear of being +frowned at.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mrs. Riley pronounced him a pleasant-mannered +gentleman, as she peeped between the climbers +that covered the window to watch him and her +husband up the hill at the back of the house.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You will not be troubled with a heavy ground-rent, +you see, sir, in a situation like this,—(if you +should pitch upon this place, where the land is +not to be sold.) You will find the difference between +building here, and building near the falls +in the hills yonder, where the gentry are rearing +their boxes and their villas. Here you will have +to pay no great deal more than if the spot of +ground was to be under the plough instead of +under a roof.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ah! you country folks know little yet of the +difference in value of bits of land that measure +the same to a hair’s-breadth. A friend of mine +has been building a villa at Chiswick lately, and +he pays four times as much for the ground as +he gets as the ground-rent of a capital house in +Winchelsea. This is all very fair. People must +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.50'>50</span>pay for good situations; but I dare say you have +no idea of such differences here?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Enough to wish that the land-tax went a +little more according to situation than it does. +’Tis really ridiculous, how one has to pay five +times as much as another, without any reason +that ever I heard tell.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“We south people beat you there, too. The +very place I was mentioning, Winchelsea, where +there are not more than fifty houses that yield the +house-tax, pays, within thirty pounds, as much +land-tax as Bath; and if you could look down +upon Bath as we now do upon your parish, you +would see the absurdity of such a taxation. In +London, the difference is wider still. I know of +two parishes that pay above 9000<i>l.</i> in land-tax, +with a rental of 116,000<i>l.</i>; while another parish +that has now a rental of 720,000<i>l.</i> pays—how +much land-tax, do you think?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“To be in the same proportion with the parishes +you mention, it should be 55,000<i>l.</i>”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Instead of which it is under 500<i>l.</i> This is +the fault of the way the tax was managed at first, +and not of anything that is done with it now: +but it sets one to inquire, before one begins to +build or to purchase. While some parishes pay +2<i>s.</i> 4<i>d.</i> in the pound, and others half a quarter of +a farthing, one likes to look into the matter.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I see no end to the inequality, sir; that is +the worst of it. If a valuation once made is never +to be altered, I don’t see but that every improvement, +every new bit of waste that is tilled, and +every new quarter of a town that is built, must +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.51'>51</span>increase the inequality. There is our neighbouring +county of Lancaster, with all its fine towns and +villages, almost as busy as London itself, paying +no more land-tax than some four or five such +London parishes as you mentioned just now. +You see, its being made perpetual, some five-and-thirty +years ago, and allowed to be redeemed, +and half of it being redeemed, makes it difficult +to touch now.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Except to redeem the remainder. That was +what Mr. Pitt wanted, no doubt—to have done +with this, without loss, and then to be free to lay +on a new tax. For my part, I like neither making +valuation nor tax perpetual; and to allow redemption +is worse still, in principle. The sacrifice +made in redeeming a tax is made for ever +and ever. See what a scrape we are in now, in +the case of this land-tax! The only way of +escape the sufferers can think of is by violating +the valuation which was declared unalterable. +They cry out for a new assessment; leaving the +redeemed portions of land exempt, and equalizing +the rest at the same rate as formerly—4<i>s.</i> in the +pound. They say that this would bring the Government +between one and two millions a-year +more than at present; and that if the assessment +was kept equal, the whole would be gradually redeemed.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“If the tax is to be got rid of, it may be more +easily done now than by and by; and a farmer +may be allowed to wish it done with.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Why? It does not fall upon you?”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_1.52'>52</span>“Ask the assessor, sir, if I do not pay it into +his hands, year by year.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Yes; but you pay it for your landlord, and +you stop it out of your rent. You know, if you +run away to-night, the assessor comes upon your +landlord for it, instead of running after you. You +know it is levied on empty houses. Why, Mr. +Riley, I never before heard anybody question +that the land-tax falls on the landlords, however +much the point might be doubted about the +house-tax.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I assure you, sir, there is less corn grown, +by far, than there would be without this tax; and +is not that a bad thing for the farmer, when a tax +is the cause?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“A bad thing for everybody: but this is, so +far, only like every other tax. Every tax stints +production in its way; yet there must be taxes. +If we are to go on taxing classes of people, I do +not know that we could have a better tax than +this, if it was but made equal.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“It will never be that, sir.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Perhaps so; but a direct tax, like this, is the +only kind that can be made equal; so we ought +to take care how we quarrel with it, and show a +preference for indirect taxes,—a kind which never +can be made equal. Besides its capacity of being +made equal, it has other good qualities. It is certain. +It is levied in a convenient way; and it +goes pretty straight to the Treasury. So that, +(except that I should like to see a simpler method +of taxation, which should save us from laying a +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.53'>53</span>burden on one class, and then balancing it +with a burden laid upon another class,) I have +nothing to say against a properly-managed land-tax.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But, sir, how are you to make it equal, while +the land is so unequal? If you tax all land at so +much per acre, the owner of those bleak hills +above will pay much more than his share; and +the fine land in our best counties will yield much +less than its share. Then, if you tax according +to the produce, people will not be long in finding +out that your tax is a tithe, sir; and you and I +both know what they think of tithe.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What should prevent its being levied—not +in proportion to surface, or to produce—but to +rent? It would be thus thrown on the landlords, +as I said before. The exclusive taxation of a +particular class is a bad principle to go upon. +But, while we do go upon that principle, and while +the poorer classes pay so much more taxes than +their share, this tax (equalized) is one of the last +to be complained of. Rent, you know, is naturally +always rising.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Then I wonder governments do not maintain +themselves on rent. If a government was a great +landowner, it might live without taxing anybody.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“The governments of new countries, where +land enough is left without an owner, will be +sufficiently wise, perhaps, to see this, in course of +time. If a government kept a portion of land, +and behaved to its tenants like a good landlord, +it would find its revenues perpetually on the increase, +(with no other checks than would, at the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.54'>54</span>same time, reduce its expenditure), and not a +farthing would be taken from the profits of the +farmer or the manufacturer; not a particle from +the rewards of anybody’s industry. A fine prospect +that, for a new country, is not it?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“A fine dream, sir.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“A dream that might as certainly come true as +my dream of a white house upon this slope, with +a wood behind, and a sheet of water spread out +where that stream is now wasted. No spot that I +have seen compares with this, certainly. I +should set about securing it before I leave the +place, but that,”—and he half laughed, as if +ashamed of his thought,—“I must bring somebody +to see it first.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I hear, Mr. Cranston, that your sister——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“No, not my sister.—But, what were you +going to say?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Only what you have heard often enough +before, I dare say. I hear that your sister is the +prettiest and kindliest lady that has ever been +seen here since——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>He was going to allude to her mother, but +stopped.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“It depends upon how you happen to see her. +If you find her in the clouds, you may speak to +her ten times before you get an answer; and I +doubt whether she looks pretty then. But when +she is——I will positively get her a horse from +Swallow’s. I am more tired than she is of waiting +for her favourite mare. Nobody knows what +Fanny is like that has not seen her ride,—seen +her hunt. O, yes! I will bring her here when +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.55'>55</span>she begins to ride; and she will hear your little +boy his alphabet. You should see her with children.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The hour struck, and the sound came from the +church tower below to remind James of his fishing +engagement. He had ceased to care about +the fishing; but he had some lingering hopes of +falling in again with the twins, if he pursued the +circuitous road (over moorland and through a +park) which they had taken.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Once on his way, he relaxed his speed no more. +To judge by the starting and shying of Diamond, +Diamond’s master was nervous, or in excessive +haste. The moor-hen and her brood fled away +uncoveted from beneath the hoofs of the steed. +The goats browzed unnoticed, or skipped from +point to point of the grey rocks under which the +road wound for a part of the way. The startling +echo of the sportsman’s fowling-piece, sent +back by these fells, only made James look round +to see if any timid girls were in sight who might +be alarmed by the shock. He was as much +startled himself as any timid girl, when he heard, +in his passage through the park, a rustling among +the underwood and high ferns in just such a corner +as the twins might have chosen, for its shade +and retirement, to rest in. But it was only a fawn +which burst away from his doubtful call, as Sarah +had done from his appointment. He was sorry +and out of humour at coming so soon in sight of +the party he proposed to join.</p> + +<p class='c001'>They did not see him—so busy were they with +their sport. The horses, which were loose and +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.56'>56</span>grazing near, looked up, tossed their heads, and +began to graze again. A boatman, sitting in a +skiff that lay in the dark reflection of the oaks +and hollies which clothed the island in the middle +of the river, touched his hat. But the party about +Moy’s-pool (the most promising pool in the whole +length of the river) were too much occupied with +their sport to look behind them, or to listen for +horses’ hoofs. Fish lay heaped and scattered on +the grass; and more was being drawn. Richard, +who was stretched at length, showed himself interested +in as far as he had raised himself on his +elbow. Fanny herself had hold of a net; and +Wallace and the servants were as active as the +occasion of so large a prey required.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“They do not want me,” thought James, +half sulkily. “I shall ride on to the Paddock, +and see about a horse for Fanny, and—whether +those girls are home.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Diamond’s hoofs made a crash on the small +pebbles as he turned back to the road. Fanny had +so much to tell and to show, about how long they +had been expecting him, how they had wished +for him, and what feats they had performed without +him, that James dismounted to admire the +plumpness of the char, and to verify Wallace’s +boast that that fat old fellow that he had just +caught weighed two pounds. It was not long +before James was trying whether he could not +draw one which would weigh two pounds and an +ounce.</p> + +<div> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_1.57'>57</span> + <h3 id='ch1.4' class='c012'><span class='sc'>Chapter IV.</span><br> <br> CLERICAL RECREATIONS.</h3> +</div> + +<p class='c017'>James was indefatigable in his exertions to get +his sister suited with a horse. He was at the +Paddock every day for a fortnight; and he would +not be satisfied without Fanny’s going there too, +to try one and another horse in the fields behind +the stables. Sometimes the girls came out, curtseying +to the young lady, and giving an opinion +when asked. Fanny delighted her brother by a +spontaneous exclamation about their beauty, the +first time she saw them: but she presently vexed +him by being extremely amused at their perfect +likeness. If it had not been that a young greyhound +was for ever in attendance upon one, +Fanny could not have pretended to distinguish +them. James told her she had no eyes.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“They are all stupid alike,” muttered he. +“That greyhound has more sense than any of +them. It is only three days since I gave him to +her, and <i>he</i> never mistakes Anne for her, in the +dusk or in the daylight. To talk of their eyes +being alike! as if colour was everything in eyes! +Anne’s are pretty enough; but they never had +such a light in them as Sarah’s. And then the +blush——I thought Fanny had been fond enough +of her garden to know the difference between a +folded convolvulus (which is a graceful thing +enough in its way) and one that is glowing in +dew when the sun has just expanded it.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_1.58'>58</span>A very short dialogue showed Fanny which it +was that James preferred. It would not have +been necessary, if she had known how Sarah +came by the greyhound.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What a pretty creature Anne is!” observed +Fanny, when, with a smile, Anne opened the +gate, for her horse to pass into the field.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Beautiful,” cried James, with enthusiasm. +“O, she is a beautiful creature!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You think her the prettiest,—you like her +the best of the two?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“No,” said he, with sudden quietness; “I +admire Sarah the most.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>This made Fanny turn her head to take another +look; but it was Anne who gazed after them. +Sarah was busy with her dog Fido.</p> + +<p class='c001'>James was not wrong in his observations on +eyes. A new light had fixed itself in Sarah’s; +and if he did not perceive something of the same +kind in Anne’s, it was perhaps owing to the light +being often troubled, and sometimes dimmed. +The serenity of both was gone. Sarah did not +wish it back again. Anne did; every hour between +rising and rest.</p> + +<p class='c001'>They had ceased to move together,—unavoidably, +when one had a dog and the other had not,—but +neither was yet awake to the fact that they +no longer thought and felt alike. One morning +they sat, like the reflection of each other, on either +side of a work-table: each making herself a frill +of the same material; each with her footstool: +and that the left foot of the one, and the right of +the other was advanced, only made the resemblance +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.59'>59</span>more complete. The difference was that +Anne attended to her work, while Sarah peered +anxiously through the glass door which communicated +with the office, where her father might be +seen reading a letter. After a while, Anne +reared her chin to try on the frill.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Let me see how yours looks,” said she. +“Sarah! here is mine finished; and yours is +not done!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Sarah began to ply her needle, uneasy at +being left behind. Anne amused herself with +stroking and coaxing the greyhound. She did +not think of beginning any other employment +till Sarah should be ready.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I wonder why Mr. Cranston did not give me +a greyhound!” observed Anne.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I dare say my father will,” replied Sarah.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But I had rather Mr. Cranston had. I am +afraid,—I am pretty sure, Mr. Cranston does not +like me.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O yes, he does.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“How do you know? Did he tell you so?—Why +did not he tell me? He never told me that +he liked you.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>A deep blush spread itself over Sarah’s cheeks.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I never saw anybody like Mr. Cranston,” +pursued Anne. “None of the gentlemen that +have passed through A—— have been the least +like him.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, no: nor ever will.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“His manner is so—I don’t know what. And +his voice——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You may know it among a hundred;—as far +off as you can hear it.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_1.60'>60</span>“It goes through one’s heart.—How dull the +day is now when he does not come!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But he does come every day.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“No: not last Wednesday.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O yes! he did. But he did not stay very +long: and you were in the field with George, +looking after the foal. He has never once +missed a day yet.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Anne’s face was crimson while she asked why +she had not seen him; why she had not been +told: why——she stopped because she could +not go on, and Sarah had nothing more to say +than that she did not see that there was any +particular occasion for telling.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Where did he come?” demanded Anne. +“Was he in this room, or in the paddock, or +where?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I had my bonnet on, just coming to you in +the field,” replied Sarah:—“my bonnet <i>was</i> on; +and so I went with him;—he wanted to show me +something in the park.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Why did not you call me? I could have +come in a moment.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Sarah did not raise her eyes while she said in +a low voice that Mr. Cranston did not wish it. +She was not very much taken by surprise when +she saw Anne, an instant after, in a passion of +tears. Her own were streaming immediately, +while she hoped Anne was not very angry with +her. Indeed she could not help it.—Whatever +might be the mixture of feelings which embittered +Anne’s tears, she spoke only of her sister’s +reserve. Her reproaches were very grievous, till +Sarah’s patient sorrow softened her in spite of +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.61'>61</span>herself. She had had no comfort of her life, for +some time past, she declared. There was always +something to expect and be afraid of. She could +not help wishing Mr. Cranston to come, and yet +she was often glad when he went away. He +never came but something disagreeable passed. +She did not think he would have been so careful +to give her back her thimble, that he had got +from the turnpike-house. It had prevented her +daring to give him anything, for fear he should +refuse it; and yet he had seemed to be very much +pleased with the purse Sarah had netted for him. +She supposed Sarah had found out that she had +felt mortified often lately; for nobody could help +seeing that Sarah had taken a great deal upon +her lately;—more than anybody could have expected +that had always known them.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Sarah tried to speak calmly while she answered +that she had never intended to take more upon +her than she should. She could truly say she +had been more sorry for Anne than she had +ever been for any one in her life. She had +hoped, every time that Miss Cranston came, that +either the eldest Mr. Cranston or Mr. Wallace +would come with her, instead of the one that did +come:—she was so certain that either of them +must like Anne quite as well as the one that did +come liked her.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Anne saw that all was over. She declared +she did not want to be liked by anybody, sent +the dog away from her knee with a rebuke, and +left the room.</p> + +<p class='c001'>It was not long before Sarah was again by her +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.62'>62</span>side; not to comfort or condole, but to consult +with her. She had been so completely thrown out +by the failure of what she meant for sympathy, just +now, that she did not venture to touch upon any +matter of feeling with Anne. She had, in ten minutes, +grown almost as much afraid of her as of +a stranger: but she felt herself less able than +ever to act without Anne’s opinion.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Do you know, Anne, I do believe there is +going to be an expedition to-night or to-morrow +night!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I dare say there is. I saw my father reading +a letter from London; and he sent George +out to A——, directly after. Why should not +there be an expedition, as there has been often +before?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“It is so different now from what it was before, +when the family were not here!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Yes: our party will not have all their own +way any longer. I suppose the woodmen must +take some notice, now; and Mr. Morse has +grown violent against the poachers, they say, +since there has been some use in keeping up the +game, as he says. Alick Morse says his father +has as good a mind to dodge a poacher now as +a stoat has to dodge a hare.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“That is a bright thing for Alick Morse to +say. But I am afraid of their coming to a fight, +Anne.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, I’m not afraid of what would come of a +fight. Our party is too strong to take any harm; +and they will do none to Alick and the other +woodman; and Mr. Morse won’t run himself +into danger against the party.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_1.63'>63</span>“I was not thinking of the Morses,” replied +Sarah, wondering at her sister’s dulness. “If the +Mr. Cranstons mean to do what they say——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ah! to be sure,” cried Anne. “They can’t +know what a party they would have to come out +against.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“So, let us go and tell them,” said Sarah, +briskly.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Anne stared in astonishment. To go and inform +against their family and their neighbours; +to provide for the discomfiture of their own +party; to prevent their father from executing +the orders which brought him in as much as his +trade in horses;—to do this confounded all +Anne’s notions of right and wrong. Sarah must +be out of her mind to think of such a thing. +The more vehement she was in saying this, the +more inclined Sarah was to go and entreat the +family not to enter the woods at night, whatever +might be going on there. If she could prevail,—(and +if she saw James, she had no doubt of +prevailing,)—all danger to both parties might be +avoided. If Anne would not accompany her, she +thought she should go alone.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You shall not,” said Anne. “If you think +of such a thing, I will run and tell my father.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“No, you will not,” said Sarah, with quivering +lips. “We never told my father of one +another in our lives.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You never thought of doing such a thing as +this in your life. I shall make haste and tell +him.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>They did not know that their father had just +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.64'>64</span>gone out. The moment Anne had turned her +back, Sarah seized her bonnet,—(her field bonnet +and gloves, for there was no time to run up +for those in which she would have wished to +appear at Fellbrow,)—and was gone from under +the archway before any one noticed her escape, +except Fido, against whom, in her hurry, she had +shut the door, but who found his way to his mistress +through an open window.</p> + +<p class='c001'>While she was breathlessly crossing a corner +of the park, she fell in with Alick Morse, who +sheepishly smiled and pulled off his hat.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, Alick, I am glad I met you. Can you +tell me where the gentlemen are? Are they +abroad to-day?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Alick pointed towards the mansion, as much +as to say that they were there. His smile had +vanished: for if she was going up there, among +the gentry, he could not walk with her, as he +was about to offer to do.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“How is your father, as relates to the game?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Very cross, Miss Sarah. But now that I +catch you alone, by a chance,—for I never had +the chance before,—I want to say——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But I want to hear about the game and +your father.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Well, the long and short is, I think he gets +no rest for the game, night nor day. The gentlemen,—the +two younger,—are after his own +heart; for they have him up early every fine +morning, after some sport or other; and he likes, +as he says, making up for all the years he has been +idle. But, dear me! ’tis at night he makes up +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.65'>65</span>most for all the sleep he had all those years. +There’s not a bough can rustle, nor a gust moan, +but he is up, and out to watch.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And there has been no cause, lately.—You +look sly, as if you thought there soon would be.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Perhaps you know as much about it as I, +Miss Sarah, and perhaps more. But there is no +use in disturbing my father’s mind, if you should +chance to meet him. Well now, if there be not——Dear +me, I suppose I must go! Who +would have thought of any gentry sitting reading +out of doors to-day!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Yes: it is Mr. Cranston and Miss Cranston. +You must go, Alick.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Alick withdrew within the verge of the wood, +and Sarah and Fido advanced to the bench where +Richard and Fanny were sitting in the late +autumnal sunshine, each with a book, and neither +of them reading.—Sarah said that she came to +speak to Mr. Cranston, the clergyman; but if +he was not at home, she would speak now what +she meant to say. Richard was always afraid of +the propounding of any matter of business; and +was therefore as willing to help her to an interview +with James as Fanny was, because she perceived +that James was the one whom Sarah +wished to see. James had just gone towards the +stables, and was coming directly in his gig to take +up his sister, whom he was going to drive over to +his living. If Sarah went straight from hence +towards the stables, she could not miss him.</p> + +<p class='c001'>She did not miss him. He was approaching +in his gig; and in another minute, notwithstanding +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.66'>66</span>an abundance of protestations, blushes and +tremors, Sarah filled Miss Cranston’s place in the +vehicle, and a circuitous road was found to the +park gates, by which another sight of the reading +party was avoided. James never used any +ceremony with his sister; he declared she had a +sort of pride in not keeping her appointments; +so she was fair game. Ten to one, too, that she +preferred dawdling with Richard till dinner-time; +and Sarah could say what she wanted much +better in the gig; and, besides, James had always +wished to show her the house he was building, +and to see how she liked it; and there could not +be a better opportunity than now.</p> + +<p class='c001'>When Sarah returned, hoping, but not assured, +that James would leave the poachers to +their own devices, her sister asked her no questions +as to where she had been all this long time. +Anne had also repented, before her father appeared +again in the office, of her resolution to +inform against her sister. There was peace between +them, and they were at liberty to communicate +their speculations upon the expedition +which they were now certain was intended for to-night. +There was more than usual preparation +made, as soon as it grew dusk, in stocking the +office with bottles and cans, with stools, pipes +and tobacco, and sawdust, strewn lest any feet +should bring in marks of blood—the blood of +man, or of beast or fowl. The girls were sent +up to bed earlier than usual. They found it extremely +vexatious that their chamber looked towards +the street, so that they could not see the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.67'>67</span>poachers drop in through the Paddock. Mr. +Taplin, the assessor, called between nine and ten—as +they supposed, at a very inconvenient time; +and they could imagine how vexed their father +must be at his staying so long. He certainly did +not go away before they gave over watching for +his departure.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Sarah little knew her lover yet if she really +confided in his keeping at home when he knew +that poachers were abroad. All the evening he +was rousing, or trying to rouse, his brother to +the due degree of indignation at being despoiled +of his property in so provoking a way. He paid +as much for every family of pheasants as would +bring up ten broods of fowls. Large sums were +stopped off his rents for damage done by his +hares. His deer were kept within bounds at a +great expense. He paid duty for gamekeepers, +horses, and dogs used in his sports; and yet the +game, for which all this cost was incurred, was to +be taken by a set of wretches who would be beneath +notice but for their power of doing mischief. +If they were stout young men, who came for the +frolic of the thing, he should not be so angry; +but, as far as he could learn——</p> + +<p class='c001'>Nobody could imagine where and how James +managed to learn who and what the poachers +were.</p> + +<p class='c001'>That did not matter; he had good authority +for what he said,—that one boy, at least, was +sent out to set snares—sent out by himself, or +with only his father,—not amidst any bustle and +frolic, but coolly, and as the agent of a theft. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.68'>68</span>Then, of those who went out at night, some enjoyed +the sport; but the greater number joined +to get drink and money for their services as +guard. The shoemaker, and the chimney-sweeper, +and the constable——</p> + +<p class='c001'>The constable!</p> + +<p class='c001'>Yes. The constable went out to break heads, +if need were, in defiance of the law. These men +were considered too clumsy to be employed in +taking the game: but they could carry bludgeons, +for the consideration of a glass of gin, and a +dividend from the poulterers; through what hands +delivered, his brother might be surprised, some +day, to learn.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Richard was willing to wait for that day. As +long as they let him alone, they were welcome +to anything that was in the park. If they left +him deer enough to please his eye as he sat under +the trees, and birds enough for his brothers’ sports, +his purposes were answered. He was glad they +could amuse themselves with his property while +he was asleep. This last word brought on him +an appeal under the head of morals. Poachers +were always utterly corrupted, if their practices +were long unchecked; like most people (unless +the members of the House of Commons might +be excepted) whose work is done at night instead +of in the day. Instead of the shoemaker taking +up his awl, or the chimney-sweeper his sack, with +the spirit that the morning naturally brings with +it, these creatures would stagger home at dawn, +and be thrown into bed for the day, while their +wives must invent lies which their children are to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.69'>69</span>tell, in excuse for their not being seen at their +work. Richard could not deny that such an order +of affairs was a bad one; but did not see how +his arm could arrest a host of poachers; and he +could not possibly be answerable for the morals +of the shoemakers and constables of A——.</p> + +<p class='c001'>As nothing more was to be made of Richard, +his brothers left him, and prepared for a long and +wary walk. Mrs. Day turned pale, and Fanny +was very grave when the bustle of assembling +their home forces began in the hall; when strips +of something white were called for to be put +round the hats, to distinguish friends from enemies; +when pistols gleamed; and when deep +voices from the court pronounced it a sharp, starlight +night.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Who is that tall man, James?” whispered +Fanny, who was looking on from the stairs. +“The one on the steps, I mean.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Who are you?” asked James, going up to +the person.</p> + +<p class='c001'>It was Richard. Of course, he did not mean +to stay behind, if his brothers chose to spoil +sport. Thus, Fanny and Mrs. Day were to be +left to listen from the windows, without the support +of any person qualified to laugh at what was +really foolish in their apprehensions. With +chattering teeth, with shawls drawn over their +heads, did they lean out of the window of the +darkened drawing-room, trusting that, if there +should be any shot, they should have notice of it +from the face of the rock below.</p> + +<p class='c001'>The gentlemen and their servants proceeded +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.70'>70</span>first to Morse’s cottage. He was not at home; +but Alick was,—looking out of the window, as +was the fashion this night. His father had gone +out some time ago, he said, fancying, as he did +every night, that he heard a noise somewhere. +The wonder was that he was not back yet. Alick +was pressed into the service to go and seek for +him.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Nothing could be more exciting to the young +men than their walk through the wood, treading +cautiously on the thick strewn leaves, and mistaking +every sigh of the gust among the naked +boughs for the coming forth of an enemy from +ambush. The stars, bright as they were, gave +too little light to be of much service amidst the +trees; and a guide was appointed from among +the servants to lead the way to the woodman’s +cottage. When he reached the fence which surrounded +it, he turned to whisper,</p> + +<p class='c001'>“They can’t be far off now, sir. There is a +man up in that tree. If you will stand where I +do, you will see him.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Come down, whoever you are!” said James. +“Come down, or I’ll fire!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“For mercy’s sake, sir, don’t!” cried a voice +which had nothing very manly in it; and the +dark form was seen to be descending with all +speed.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What was he doing there?” asked Richard, as +a boy was pulled by the collar into his immediate +presence. “Stealing walnuts! What brought +you out, you little wretch, to steal walnuts?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>He had been told by his father to stay here till +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.71'>71</span>the party came past on their way home, lest he +should get a mischief; and he thought he might +as well be doing something, like the rest of them. +He had tried the hen-roost first; but some of the +party had been there before him, and there was +nothing left for him but the walnuts; and they +were only the gleanings, after the best part of the +crop had been gathered. He had news to give +of the keeper. He had seen him taken.—Taken?—Ay; +skulking behind this cottage, to watch the +poachers. It seemed to him that somebody from +within had given notice that he was there. However +that might be, Morse’s gun was taken from +him, and he was carried off. Such was the story +told by George Swallow.</p> + +<p class='c001'>The inmate of this cottage was sound asleep, +if prodigious snoring might be taken as a test. +He was not allowed further repose, but summoned +to bring out his gun; and George Swallow was +left tenant of the house,—tied by the leg to the +bed-post.</p> + +<p class='c001'>If the gentlemen had come out in pursuit of +game, they could have started none more tempting +than the fine stag which, being roused from +its lair, stood for an instant gazing on them from +a distance of forty paces. Wallace had a cry of +admiration ready as the graceful creature stood +in the dim light; but before he could utter it,—before +the animal could bound away, a perfectly +aimed shot came from some other quarter; and +instantly a large body of men crowded round the +fallen stag. In vain was the signal of silence +given by Mr. Cranston, and most earnestly propagated +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.72'>72</span>by Alick and the other woodman. Wallace +shouted, James echoed him, and the servants +followed. The poachers rushed forward. A gun +was fired; by whom, and with what effect, nobody +knew at the moment. A second shot ensued, +whose consequences were immediately perceived +by Mr. Cranston’s party. Alick sunk down with +a cry like that of a woman. His father knew +the voice, and sprang from among his captors to +the side of his son. The fight which ensued was +very harmless, the poachers perceiving that they +were in no danger from such a handful of enemies. +With the most provoking coolness, they +retreated, carrying their game with them, and +only laughing at the pursuit of their foes. If +they would only have been angry, and gone on +fighting, there would have been some consolation. +But they would fight no more.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Neither did they sport any more; at least, not +visibly nor audibly. As it was undesirable that +they should be tracked to their place of carouse, +and as it was necessary to cut up their venison into +a more portable state, they retired behind Whitford’s +granary, and there took up a strong position, +rightly supposing that the enemy would see +no use or safety in watching them for any length +of time. While knives were being plied with +skill upon the venison, those who were not wanted +for the work thought it a pity they should be idle. +A sheep of Whitford’s was abstracted from the +flock by one detachment, while another sought +the place where the granary had been last tapped, +and drew a further supply of fine wheat which +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.73'>73</span>was pretty sure not to be missed. In these expeditions, +it was a rule of morals to employ every +man according to his capacity. Those who could +neither kill game nor cut it up delicately were +very capable of boring a hole in the floor of a +loft full of corn, and, when the bag was filled, of +stopping up the hole with a cork till next time. +This done, all proved themselves capable of +swearing fellowship and drinking more or less +gin or other spirit in Swallow’s office, whether or +not they could sing such songs as frightened the +twin sisters from their sleep in the farthest corner +of the house.</p> + +<p class='c001'>On this occasion, the sisters were spared the +panic suffered by Mrs. Day and Fanny, when a +wounded man was brought in to be put to bed, +and supposed dying till the surgeon could be +summoned to see him. Fanny’s satisfaction at +her brothers’ coming home safe was much impaired +by the moodiness of their countenances, +which seemed to betoken that the strife with +their neighbours was not at an end.</p> + +<h3 id='ch1.5' class='c012'><span class='sc'>Chapter V.</span><br> <br> VOWED SISTERHOOD.</h3> + +<p class='c017'>Poor Alick Morse died in three days. The brothers +did not wait for the event to show their +determination to put down the practice of poaching +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.74'>74</span>in their neighbourhood. Several suspected +persons at A—— were brought up before the +magistrates, the morning after the adventure; +some of them being caught (before they had +completely emerged from their drunken fit) with +sheep’s wool or grains of corn stuck with blood +to their shoe-soles, or their hands blackened with +powder, or smelling of venison. George Swallow +was committed, with all ceremony; and the +county was pledged to prosecute him for his theft +of five walnuts. His father offered to whip him +to any extent their worships might think proper; +but it was decided that he should be consigned to +vagabond society in gaol for a couple of months, +and cause the county an expense of the requisite +number of pounds, in order to his being finally +condemned to four days’ imprisonment. When +poor Alick died, (after having been removed, by +his father’s peremptory desire, to his cottage,) +Morse was much cheered by seeing his natural +office of avenger of blood so well filled as it was +by his two younger masters, who actually dogged +the heels of the reluctant constable, to see that +he did his duty in taking up the suspected. The +only thing that vexed the gamekeeper was Mr. +James’s obstinacy in disbelieving that Swallow +had anything to do in the affair. There was more +reason for arresting Swallow than many another +that was marched before their worships: but +James quashed every hint in this man’s disfavour; +and Swallow might be seen exhibiting himself +about his own premises with an air of triumph +equally offensive to his accomplices and to him +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.75'>75</span>whom some believed him to have most deeply +injured.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Come, come, my poor fellow,” said James to +Morse, “let us have no more of this. I cannot +listen to an information that has so little in it as +yours. Tell me of anything else that I can do +for you, Morse. Would it be a satisfaction to +you that I should bury your son?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Morse uncovered his grizzled locks, and a +deeper red than usual burned in his jolly cheeks, +as he acknowledged the young clergyman’s kindness. +He did not think Alick had supposed his +young master would do him this honour, though +the poor lad had brought himself to ask whether +his father believed that a funeral sermon would +be preached for him.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“There shall be one, certainly, if it will be +any satisfaction to you. I should not wonder at +your desiring it; but what could make Alick +wish it?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“He liked the idea that Sarah Swallow would +hear him made much of, sir. In fact, sir, he left +his silver-topped gin-bottle to the parson, if he +made her cry at his funeral sermon. Hope no +offence, sir?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>James had an idea that he had a better chance +of making Sarah cry than any other parson in the +world. He was pretty sure of the gin-bottle, if +he chose to try for it: but he was heartily vexed +that he had promised the sermon. While he was +meditating his next evasion, Morse went on,—</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And since you have been so ready about the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.76'>76</span>sermon, sir, perhaps you have no objection to be +accommodating about the text?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“None in the world,” replied James, hoping +that the matter would end in the necessity of +making Sarah laugh. “Let me hear.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Perhaps you remember, sir, the text about +the soul——something about the bird and the +snare of the fowler. My son thought that text +would tell that the manner of his death was by +poachers.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“As if everybody did not know that already!” +muttered James. “Well, Morse; make yourself +easy.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And you may depend, sir, on having the +gin-bottle on the Monday morning.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And when is the funeral to be, Morse?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Why, sir, they say it must be to-morrow, sir. +The undertaker says so, sir; or else——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“To-morrow! D—n it!” muttered James. +“Wallace and I had fixed to-morrow for a morning’s +shooting; and it is the last day we shall +have this week. Morse, did your master say he +could spare you to-morrow?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“He did, sir. I am as sorry as you can be to +spoil sport in such a way. But the undertaker is +positive.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Then there is no help for it. I am not going +back from my word, Morse.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>It was a most delicious morning for sport. +James came down with a countenance as black +as night. Wallace was making ready to go forth. +He only waited to know whether James meant to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.77'>77</span>meet him in A——, some hours hence, on business +relating to these poachers. Certainly. +James thought he might as well get two irksome +engagements fulfilled in one day. He would +meet Wallace at the Turk’s Head in the afternoon.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Bless me! I’m late, I suppose,” cried he. +“Here’s poor Morse himself coming to look after +me. That punch was so confoundedly strong last +night, I could not wake for the life of me this +morning. Coming, Morse. I’m sorry if I’m +late; but I dare say you have got a methodist or +two from A——, and they will entertain your +company with a hymn till we get up to beat their +cover. Don’t hurry yourself, my poor fellow.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“By no means, sir. But what I came for +was——I hate to spoil sport, sir, and it is a rare +morning; and so, sir, if you will make me sure +of the sermon, I’ll let you off this morning’s +work, and secure you the gin-bottle, all the same.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Now I call that kind, Morse.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And when I have seen him earthed, sir——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ah! you will hardly know what to do with +yourself. Suppose you look for the text you +mentioned; and by the time you have found it +for me, we shall have something to amuse you +with—about what is done with the poachers at +A——.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>It did not appear, in the sequel, that looking +out texts was precisely the occupation that best +suited Morse, even on this occasion. As Fanny +and Mrs. Day were walking, a little after noon, +in a field at some distance from the park, they +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.78'>78</span>saw Morse, with his gun on his arm, and his dog +snuffing about at a little distance. Fanny’s feelings +for the bereft father would have led her to +avoid intruding upon him to-day; but he bent +his steps towards her. He evidently meant to +accost her, and she therefore broke the ice.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What brought you here, Morse? Where +have you been walking?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I’ve been no farther than Lye Wood. I’ve +been to my son’s funeral not far from there; and +I thought I would try the cover as I came back. +Now I’ve happened to meet you, ladies, I am +glad I let off the young parson from the funeral. +He would have been with me, as I’ve taken the +sporting circuit instead of the straight road; and +it is of him that I am going to speak. No harm, +or no great harm,” said he to Mrs. Day, who had +turned pale through some undefined apprehension +of evil. “No greater harm, ladies, than his +making love down yonder; making love, as all +young men do.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What do you mean? Making love to whom? +What sort of person is she?” hastily inquired +Mrs. Day.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You may guess it is to no unfitting person,” +replied Morse; “for my poor son meant to have +had her himself, if he had but lived. ’Tis Sarah +Swallow that I mean; and all I tell you for is, +that he may not make her his lady, as the folks +have it he means to do. Her father looks boastful +enough to put it into every one’s head; and +I myself saw them in the gig together when, it +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.79'>79</span>is my belief, she had been to view his new house, +where he will be taking her to live, one of these +days, if you don’t look to it.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I was pretty sure he was in love,” said +Fanny. “I have thought so this fortnight past.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Breast-high,” observed Morse.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“This young person must be sent away immediately,” +declared Mrs. Day. “We must speak +to Mr. Cranston directly, Fanny, and get it done.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You will hardly manage that,” said Fanny, +“unless the girl has done something wrong. +How can we send her away? What right have +we to quarrel with her having a lover?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“The scent will lie too strong; you’ll never +break it. He will start after her,” solemnly declared +Morse.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But, Fanny, you would not send away your +brother; you would not attempt it, if you consider +this new living that he has to attend to. +Besides, I believe he would not go.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Certainly not, if he is in love. Why send +away either of them? Why roughen the course +of true love?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“My dear, think of the consequences! You +are so strangely wild, Fanny, sometimes. Think +of the consequences, if they stay in the same +neighbourhood,—one of the Mr. Cranstons marrying +the daughter of a country horse-dealer!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Fanny thought the real wildness and folly was +in people’s loving one person and marrying another. +If James and Sarah loved each other, +she, for one, should not dare to interfere between +them. Once convinced of the fact of their attachment, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.80'>80</span>she would offer herself as a sister to +Sarah Swallow, even if Sarah were herself a +horse-dealer, and rode to the fair at the end of a +string of her own quadrupeds.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I suppose, then, you will be for going to +vow sisterhood with this girl, this moment,” +said Mrs. Day, with much vexation in her tone. +“You will do your best to assist the scandal +against your family, Fanny.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I shall vow nothing till I know whether +they are in love. If they are—(I put it to you, +Mrs. Day)—if they are in love, which is the +greater scandal—that the wedded in heart should +be wedded in hand, or that he should break this +poor girl’s heart, and give his hand to somebody +else?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You do not choose to look into consequences, +Fanny; you will not, or you would see what would +become of society, if young men of family are to +marry in such a way, on pretence of being in +love.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Fanny would not allow the word “pretence.” +Pretence is not used to secure disadvantages—of +alliance or anything else. She also declared that +she did look very far into consequences,—into +the cold married life of the lover, and the dreary +lot of the deserted, and all the crimes which must +be perpetrated on all hands before hearts that +cling can be separated.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But, my dear, only look at what will happen +in such a case as this. The——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I see,—the endless troubles of a horse-dealer’s +daughter in polished society; (for I suppose we +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.81'>81</span>Cranstons are more or less polished in London, +however wild we may be here.) I grant you all +these troubles; but they are better than broken +or hardened hearts. Depend upon it, Mrs. Day, +these are cases for prevention, not cure.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What else have I been saying, Fanny? I +want to send her away before it is too late.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“It is too late, in this case,—always provided +that they really love. God has joined them, and +I will not help to put them asunder. What I +mean about prevention and cure is, that people +should be prepared to love in the right place—where +there is equality, not of rank, but of mind. +Till then, I am for love—true love—leading on +to marriage, sooner or later, as naturally as dawn +leads on to perfect day.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But I have no doubt this is a mere fancy of +your brother’s,—a mere pastime while he is in +the country.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ah! that is altogether another question. I +agree with you that it is far too likely: but in +that case, it is particularly necessary that I should +make a friend of this good girl; for I am sure +she is a good girl.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“She is, Miss Cranston,” averred Morse.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I may save her from a bitter disappointment, +or prepare her, in some degree, for it,” added +Fanny. “But, Mrs. Day, I rather think my +brothers, and thousands more, would never dream +of such cruel sport—would have no such fancies—if +it was a natural and a settled thing that they +should marry where they love.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“So you are going to run down to this young +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.82'>82</span>person, and put it into her head that it is her duty +and your brother’s that they should marry!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“If that is not in her head already, Mrs. Day, +she will spurn me for trying to put it there, you +may be quite sure, if Sarah has the true woman’s +heart; and she is too young to have a more sophisticated +one. I am going; but I am afraid +you will not be my companion.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Certainly not, till I have spoken to Mr. +Cranston.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Poor Richard!” thought Fanny; “it would +be rather burdensome to him to have to alter the +laws of nature, to evade the talk of our London +acquaintance. I don’t think Mrs. Day will persuade +him to try.——Good-bye, Mrs. Day. If +this news is not true, perhaps I shall be as glad as +you; if it is true, I really advise you to try to be +as content as I shall be, and (I think I may say) +Richard too.”——</p> + +<p class='c001'>Of course, Mrs. Day shook her head. She +turned back in the direction of Fellbrow; while +Fanny proceeded towards the Paddock—not with +her usual step, but sometimes lingering under the +hedges, and sometimes hastening. Her heart +was in a kind of tumult,—now fluttering with +pleasure—a new kind of pleasure—at the idea of +a brother being in love, (an event which she had +long looked for in vain in Richard’s case,) and +now full of anxiety lest there should be a lowness +of heart and mind, as well as of birth, in Sarah, +which should injure or extinguish the love. Fanny +was a somewhat partial sister; and she was not +aware how essentially vulgar was the mind of +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.83'>83</span>him before whom heads were uncovered, as if, +because he was a clergyman, he must be a wise +and good man.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Fanny was herself surprised at the time she +had lost when the church clock of A—— gave +out the hour, just as she had succeeded in dragging +down a lofty hazel-bough, and in obtaining +the last nut that danced in the air with it. She +reproached herself duly for the divers blackberry +stains she had incurred, and crossed the last stile +of Whitford’s fields, into the road which led to +the Paddock and to A——. Here she walked on +with all sobriety, pondering the ground rather +than the high hazel-boughs, till she was roused +by a shout of many voices—a din which alarmed +her. Looking up, she saw the twins, preceded +by Fido, flying along the road towards her; +while, some way behind them, just at the entrance +of the town, appeared a rushing crowd, +from which proceeded the clamour. The girls +eagerly waved to her to turn back, and were evidently +exhausting their own strength in flight. +“An over-driven bullock,” thought Fanny, turning, +and making for the stile she had crossed. +She reached and passed it; and then, supposing +herself in a perfectly safe place, she leaned over +to make a signal to the girls that here their flight +might end. They could not speak when they +approached; but they made vehement signs that +she must not stand there. It was, indeed, a dog, +and not a bullock, that was being chased. She +saw the creature making along the road, and +could recognize the peculiar carriage which denoted +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.84'>84</span>its madness. She was in agony for the +exhausted girls, who were actually stumbling +amidst their attempts to reach the stile. The +dog might take it into his head to fly at them +over, or through, the stile; but it was worth any +exertion to get them out of the direct path of the +animal. She stood on the middle rail, and +stretched out her arms to them; while Fido +leaped backwards and forwards between her and +them. They made another effort, when they +heard from her the words—“A barn! here is a +barn!” One reached and threw herself upon +her, was dragged over, and fell on the grass; the +other, Sarah, was somewhat stronger, and helped +to lift up Anne, and pull her towards the barn, +whose wide doors stood open. The thresher was +wondering what all this could mean, when he +stopped work, so as to hear something besides +his own flail. The dog appeared, leaping through +the stile, and explained everything. The girls +were rudely pushed into the barn, and the doors +closed upon them. Fido would not come in. +“Tie him up! tie him up!” cried Sarah through +the door. “Ay, ay,” answered the thresher from +without. They hoped that Fido was safe at the +back of the building; and were spared the sight +of the dashing out of the mad creature’s brains +by the flail of the thresher.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Do give us air,” cried Fanny, when he put +his head in to tell them all was safe. “These +girls seem suffocating. May we have the doors +open?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Each pretty creature lay panting on the great +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.85'>85</span>heap of straw, while their friend fanned them +with her hat; they looking as if they would intreat +her not to trouble herself, if they could but find +voice. How fresh came in the cool air,—how +bright did the pale sunshine look,—when the +doors were once more thrown wide! When the +crowd were convinced that nothing more was to +be expected from the dog, and that the best +chance of amusement lay in finding out how +many people he might have bitten in the town, +the field was presently cleared, and the thresher +returned to the barn.</p> + +<p class='c001'>While wiping his flail, preparatory to using it +again, he growled and grumbled about the danger +from mad dogs, and its increase of late. In his +young days, nobody thought of dogs being mad +later in the year than September. We should +soon be subject to them all the year round, he +supposed.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Fanny supposed this individual dog had been +driven mad by some particular accident or ill-usage. +As for the rest, how was it to be helped? +Did the thresher mean to say that it was any +body’s fault that there were more mad dogs than +formerly?</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ay, ay,” replied the thresher. “If dogs +were taxed as they should be, they would not +swarm as they do in the dog-days.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But I thought there was abundance of taxation +of dogs: I am sure my brothers pay as +much for theirs as would maintain a poor man’s +family. There is a duty of six-and-thirty pounds +on their pack of hounds, in the first place; and +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.86'>86</span>then fourteen shillings a-head on all their other +dogs, which are not a few.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Very well—very right,” observed the thresher. +“Your brothers are not the gentlemen to grumble +at paying for luxuries, I dare say, any more than +these young ladies have hitherto grudged their +pound a year for the pretty creature behind there,” +nodding towards the back of the barn. The girls +looked at one another, not having been aware +that the possession of Fido would bring upon +Sarah or her father the expense of a pound a +year duty.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Fanny thought nothing could be more proper +than that her brothers should pay duty for their +luxuries, whether of dogs, horses, or any thing +else. If they grew displeased with the expense, +they had only to give up the indulgence, which +was more than the poor man could do in regard +to the taxed articles used by him. She only +mentioned what her brothers paid because the +thresher seemed to think dogs were not sufficiently +taxed.</p> + +<p class='c001'>The thresher thought so still. He did not +want that dogs used for such real and useful +service as his boy’s dog on the sheep-walk above +should be taxed. When Mr. Taplin had tried to +make out, last appeal day, that that dog belonged +to Mr. Whitford, and ought to pay duty, the +thresher had successfully opposed him, and the +Commissioners had decided that a shepherd’s dog +used in the shepherd’s business, should be exempt. +But it was a very different thing, allowing dogs to +go free of duty because they belong to the poor; +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.87'>87</span>and letting a vast number go unaccounted for in +compounding for taxes. If poor men keep dogs +for a luxury, let them pay more or less for this +luxury, since it is one that brings mischief after +it if too extensively used; and it is not difficult +to draw the line between these dogs and those +which help the poor man in his occupation,—such +as butchers’ and drovers’ dogs.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I am sure,” said Fanny, “I have seen hundreds +of dogs in London, whose masters can pay +no tax, to judge by the plight of the poor animals.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Just so, ma’am. Half-starved and neglected +as they are, they roam the streets just in a condition +to turn mad as soon as hot weather comes; +and as this is a sort of luxury that cannot be left +to the poor man with safety to his neighbours, it +is only fair, in my opinion, to put some restraint +upon it. I would let the charge of eight shillings +a year lie on all the inferior kinds of dogs +but those used in business; and to make sure, +every dog should by law have a collar with his +master’s name upon it, and the place where the +duty is paid. If this was done, and the constables +had power to destroy all dogs that have no +collars, and that are not owned after due notice, +we should hear little more of deaths from mad +dogs, and the government would find its profit,—and +a fair profit,—from such a plan.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“There would be more to pay the duty, you +think, as well as fewer to keep dogs?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“No doubt of it, ma’am. Mr. Taplin says +the number of dogs accounted for to the assessors +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.88'>88</span>in this country is between three and four +hundred thousand, besides packs of hounds,—which +are about seventy. Now it is pretty sure +that, of the many thousands more that the assessors +cannot touch, some good number would +pay duty, instead of all being put out of the +way.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“There would be a prodigious slaughter of +lurchers, I fancy,” said Fanny, “to the great +displeasure of poachers, and of some who make +their dogs do business, though the business may +not be accounted for to the assessor. One +cannot go ten yards in this neighbourhood without +seeing a lurcher. I suppose it is that dog’s +cunning that makes it so common near gentlemen’s +seats, and in poor men’s service.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The thresher turned suddenly to his work +again; and the girls arose. They were all the +sooner ready to go for poaching having been +mentioned.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“If you will just tell me where you tied up +my dog,” said Sarah, after duly thanking the +thresher.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, just behind there; you can’t miss him. +I dare say he is dead and half-cold by this +time.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Dead!” murmured both the girls. The +thresher turned round quickly.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Why, you bade me tie him up, did not you? +What would you have?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“He has hanged the dog!” cried Fanny. “O, +how could you do so?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The thresher was all amazement. He had +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.89'>89</span>supposed that the young ladies were afraid of +their own dog after it had been in company with +the mad one, and he had saved them the trouble +of hanging it; that was all.—A kind of trouble +he seemed disposed to save the constable, Fanny +thought. Had he drowned any pups, this day?—He +could not say but he had,—before he came +to work in the morning.—If the thresher went on +at this rate, drowning pups in the morning, and +slaying two dogs at noon, this district was likely +to be pretty safe during his life. Fanny would +take good care, however, to keep her spaniel out +of reach of his cruel hands.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, his cruel hands!” repeated Sarah, catching +the last words as she reappeared from behind +the barn, whither she and her sister had +run to see if poor Fido had any life left in him. +The first glance at the suspended animal, in an +attitude of convulsion, was too much for Sarah. +Anne ran on to cut him down with a sickle she +had seized in the barn. Sarah returned, and +threw herself at length on the straw, hiding her +face, and sobbing till even the thresher’s soul +was moved.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Lord love her! how her fright about the mad +dog must have shaken her! There is no mischief +that may not be mended, more or less, wise folks +say; and he would get her another greyhound, +if she would not take on so. Nothing easier +than to get a pretty pup of a greyhound for her; +and he would christen it Fido, like the last. He +would christen it himself: for all he was known +not to be overfond of encouraging dogs.</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_1.90'>90</span>“You!” cried Sarah, with flashing eyes. +“You bring me a dog! It shall go straight into +the pond if you do.—But it was all my own +fault,—for letting you touch him.—I wish—I +wish he had been bitten, and that he had bitten +me again, before I asked you to touch him.—I +will never have another dog as long as I live!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, yes, you will,” whispered Fanny; “you +will take another from the same hand that gave +you this.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, Miss Cranston,” wept poor Sarah, “he +will never give me another; and I shall have +no heart to take it, after having used this in such +a way.—How shall I tell him?—I’m sure I +hope he will not come to the Paddock to-day.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Yes, he will. Let us go and be ready for +him.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Did he say he should come? Did he tell +you——”—Sarah’s blushing face now looked +infinitely less miserable.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You must tell me,—yes, everything,” said +Fanny, smiling. “There is nobody in the field +now. Come and take a walk with me.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The thresher was furiously at work as they left +the barn without remembering to say another +word to him. He swore to himself that the +young gentlemen were welcome to try to please +pretty girls, if they chose. He had had enough +of it. There was nothing to be got but abuse +for doing just what they desired.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Anne was the next person to be discontented. +When she had completely tired herself with attempts +to resuscitate Fido, with a vague idea in her +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.91'>91</span>mind that she was doing something generous, she +came back to her companions, with a heavy heart +and a faltering tongue, to tell that poor Fido was +irrecoverable. She found Sarah smiling consciously, +and looking the picture of happiness, +while Miss Cranston’s arm was round her waist, +and it was plain that neither of them was in any +want of her, or in any distress about Fido. She +was about to turn in and scold the thresher, as +the most natural way of letting off her wrath, +when Miss Cranston called her.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Come, Anne, we want you. You are Sarah’s +only sister. We want your leave that she may +have another.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, Anne!” said her sister, in sorrowful reproach, +when Anne silently turned her head +away to disperse her tears.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Indeed, I don’t mean——,”—Anne declared,—“I +was only taken by surprise. We +did not know, Miss Cranston, what it was right +to expect,—what you might think——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Miss Cranston did not answer for any one but +herself. How matters were to stand with her +she did not leave doubtful. If James had taken +Sarah to see the new house, and learn her wishes +about its arrangements, she could not be wrong +in taking Sarah thither once more, to hear what +had been planned, and how she might help to +advance everybody’s wishes.</p> + +<p class='c001'>How rapid are the changes of feeling that all +are subject to; and how the most interesting +communion of friends may be instantly transformed +into a mere contagion of mirth! An +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.92'>92</span>exclamation escaped from all the three girls, as a +hare burst from the dry ditch beside which they +were walking, and made across the field. On +passing the barn, she seemed to be taken possession +of by a sudden thought. She turned and +sprang in upon the very heap of straw on which +Sarah and her sister had reposed from their terrors +of the chase.—At that moment, two pointers +sprang through the hedge, and followed precisely +on her track, while Wallace appeared in a gap, +and James’s voice was heard behind the fence.</p> + +<p class='c001'>With quivering lips, Sarah entreated that +nothing might be said of Fido; and she was +assured in return that James would be too eager +about this hare to remember the greyhound, so +that she might keep the topic for some occasion +when she could privately explain the whole to +James, and when she would be better able to bear +the subject than at present. James had no attention +to spare for the ladies till he had ascertained +why his dogs fidgetted about the barn in so +strange a manner. He seemed to be peremptory +with the thresher as to which way the hare +was gone, while the man looked more sulky than +ever. Instead of wasting words upon him, +Wallace made bold to search; and in a minute, +the poor animal was exhibited,—its skull having +been fractured with his very handy and diligent +flail, and the carcase pushed in beneath the +straw. The poor thresher seemed likely to have +no rest from animadversion this day. One brother +now threatened him with an information for +killing the animal sacred to the qualified, while +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.93'>93</span>the other heaped curses upon him for spoiling +the sport. No wonder the thresher pronounced +his neighbours hard to please. He was not even +allowed to keep the hare,—“to roast the game +that he had killed.” James wanted it,—of +course for Sarah; and then came a race about +the field, he trying to throw the carcase, as if it +had been a tippet, over her shoulders, and she +naturally wishing to escape such an adornment +She was happily looking away in a struggle to +escape, when he said—</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You had better have brought Fido with you. +He would have carried your game home. As it +is, you see I shall be obliged to go with you +myself. Now, don’t you think that is very +hard?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Fanny explained that she was going to carry +off Sarah from Fellbrow for a long ride, instead +of letting her go home with her game. James +must now be satisfied why he found the three +girls together like sisters; and it was not long +before he was walking between Fanny and Sarah, +talking of his new house.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Do you know, Fanny,” said he,——“(hold +your tongue Sarah, I told you I would make +them laugh at you;) do you know, Fanny, she +would have my house built after the fashion of a +shopkeeper’s house in the city. She thought of +nothing but a room or two on the ground-floor, +and others built over them,—and more piled up +till we had got as many as we wanted; with a +window stuck here and there wherever we could +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.94'>94</span>not possibly do without one. That is Sarah’s +notion of a house.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Sarah declared that she did not wish the house +to be anything but what Mr. Cranston liked. +She was only looking for the house being something +like the new ones on the new road.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Not knowing the why and because of the +case, my dear. Houses run up like maypoles +where ground rents are high: (which is reason +enough, Fanny, why the house-tax should not +proceed upon a measurement of square feet, as +some would have it;) and, as for windows, what +can be the reason, do you suppose, that there are +not as many in our new houses as at Fellbrow, +where the walls are chequered with lattices? Is +it because Fellbrow is particularly ugly, do you +think?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Sarah had little to say in praise of the beauty +of either the many-windowed Fellbrow mansion, +or the new houses where a window appeared here +and there amidst an expanse of red brick.</p> + +<p class='c001'>We might all think there was most beauty in +a proportion between the two, Fanny conjectured, +if all were at liberty to consult their taste. But +Richard had told her that it was owing to the +window-tax that those architects were the most +popular who put the smallest possible number of +windows into their plans for building. Thus, we +might arrive in time at a national preference for +dead wall. But Fanny could not bear the idea +of English streets looking like those of Damascus +and other eastern cities, where you may walk +for a mile in an avenue of blank edifices.</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_1.95'>95</span>James laughed at the notion of such an evasion +of taxes as this. The people of England +must become poor indeed, if they denied themselves +light and air to avoid a duty of sixteen +shillings and sixpence upon the lowest,—viz., a +house of eight windows,—and of no more than +thirty pounds upon the palace of a hundred windows. +The people must, before this, become as +poor as Sarah must suppose him to be, judging +from her anxiety to have his house as dark as +she could persuade him to make it.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Sarah had had no such thought as of his being +poor. She only judged from the way that houses +were often built now. It must be very bad for +the poor, (who are seldom disposed to be too +cleanly,) to be stinted in air and light. She +wished the days would return when houses might +be half made of glass, like that at Fellbrow.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I do not,” said James: “for there was a +worse tax then. The window-tax indeed was +laid on to relieve us from that. There was a tax +of two shillings on every hearth, Sarah. Only +think of the bore of having a tax-gatherer come +round, insisting upon going into every room, to +see how many hearths there were! It struck +somebody that if windows were made to pay, instead +of hearths, the tax-gatherer might walk +round the outside to count them; which was infinitely +less disagreeable than his presence within. +At that time, the poor were not very heavily +burdened by it, and now they are not so burdened +at all. Houses with no more than seven windows +then paid twopence a window; and now they +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.96'>96</span>pay nothing. So, for once, you may spare your +pity for the poor on account of a tax. This does +not touch them.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Then I call it a good tax,” declared Fanny. +“Richard shall pay his share without any murmurs, +as he does for his hounds and his horses, +if he means to begin his housekeeping with a +good grace. It makes me quite uncomfortable +to think that we pay no more tax upon every +pound of soap or sugar than the poorest of Whitford’s +labourers. There is some comfort in paying +for something,—even if it be light and air,—which +may come to them free. I like this window-tax. +It seems, too, as if it must be fair towards +those on whom it does fall, if it rises with +the number of windows.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“It is not so, however. A tenant who takes +a 10<i>l.</i> house in A——, an old-fashioned house in +one of those half-deserted streets, may have to +pay for sixteen windows, while a London shopkeeper, +in a 70<i>l.</i> house, in a first-rate situation, +may have to pay only for ten windows. This is +not fair. I like the tax in so far as it is direct,—a +prime virtue in a tax,—and because it falls on +none below the middling classes; but I cannot +call it equal.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Why, no: the London shopkeeper ought to +pay more instead of less (whether his house be +modern or old-fashioned) for living in a good situation. +But, to be sure, he does this in his rent, +and, I suppose, in his house-tax. And yet it +seems as if the landlord must at last pay both the +house-tax and the window-tax. How is it? It +is a great puzzle.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_1.97'>97</span>“Not at all. When a man is choosing a +house, he takes the expense of the whole into +consideration,—the rent, and the house-tax, and +the window-tax. The tenant of the house with +many windows in A—— would have taken a +house with fewer windows, if he had not been +tempted by the lowness of the rent; and the +London shopkeeper finds himself able to pay a +higher rent for his house than he could have done +if it had been more abundant in windows. Thus, +though the tenants may pay the tax into the collector’s +hand, it falls upon the landlords. The +one landlord obtains a lower rent because his +windows are many; and the other a higher rent +because his windows are few.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Then, if this tax were to be taken off, it +would relieve the landlords, not the tenants?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“When the tenant’s leases had expired. Till +then, the tenant would pocket the amount of the +tax; but, the lease expired, the rent would rise. +If the tenant could before afford to pay so much +to live in this particular house, he will pay it again +rather than quit a situation which suits him. But +there is one way in which the tenant will gain. +He can have more air and light.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And families who live in their own old houses +in the country,—families who are not rich enough +to afford themselves many luxuries,—would find +the relief great. If Fellbrow had been left to +fall into ruins because we were poor, and not because +we were wild,—if we had come back to +live cheap,—we should have found the window-tax +a great burden, and should be glad to be rid +of it.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_1.98'>98</span>“Yes: it is not nearly so good a tax as its +companion, the house-tax.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I hope, however,” said Sarah, “some other +tax that falls upon the poor will be taken off first. +It is a pity that landlords should pay unequally +for their windows; but I think it is far worse that +the poor should pay as much for some things as +any landlord. But I suppose these taxes will +make your house worth more than it would be +worth without them.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“In general, the value of houses must be +raised by these taxes, because it will not be worth +while to build till the ground-rent is high enough +to pay the taxes as well as remunerate the landlord. +But much depends upon situation, you see. +The ground-rent of my new house is very low, +because it stands in a situation that nobody cares +about but myself; and the ground-rent of a house +in the Strand is very high, because people bid +against one another for the advantage of living +in the Strand. If the taxes were taken off to-morrow, +the value of the houses in the Strand +would not be lowered till the Strand began to be +deserted for some other great thoroughfare.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But if the taxes were to be taken off to-morrow, +the value of your house would be lowered.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“If I had not secured my bargain with the +ground-landlord. If we were only beginning our +negotiation, he would say, ‘You will be at so +much less expense for your house than you calculated +upon and can afford; and you must therefore +pay me more for your ground.’ But Sarah +knows that my house is too far advanced for any +such speech to be made to me.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_1.99'>99</span>“Besides that the taxes remain.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“For how long? You know what an outcry +there is about them in London?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“From landlords or tenants?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“From tenants chiefly;—from shopkeepers +who will pocket the amount of tax for the time +their leases have to run, and will then be just +where they are now.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But they ought not to be indulged, while so +many worse burdens are pressing on a larger and +more suffering class. They surely ought not to +be indulged.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Not as to the repeal of the house-tax, which +is, if people would but examine and judge, perhaps +the very best tax we have. But then, it +wants to be equalized. The London shopkeepers +are right enough in saying that. But its being +unequally laid on is no reason for its being taken +off altogether.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“How does it want to be made equal? between +houses of a different rank in London? or +between houses of the same rank in London and +in the country?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Chiefly between houses of a different rank, +in London and in the country. It seems to me +ridiculous to make such prodigious complaints as +we hear about the enormous amount levied on +London in comparison with the country. London +may measure no more miles than there may be +seen lying below my new house; but the property +of London is more than our whole county; and +the property on which the tax is levied is the +question; not the space within which it is levied. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.100'>100</span>The number of houses assessed in London and +Middlesex is above 116,000; and in the county +of Rutland 240.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“People must pay for the privilege of living +in London,—for the thousands of comforts and +conveniences which are to be had there only. +Here, if people want to send letters a few miles, +two or three times a-day, they must dispatch two +or three messengers, for want of a twopenny post. +If they want to buy meat, they must go a good +way to a butcher, and take the chance of getting +what they want, if it be not market-day, instead +of having an universally-stocked market at hand +every day of the week. If they want to ride any +distance, they must hire horses, for want of omnibuses +and stages; and they have none of the +luxuries of fine buildings, inexhaustible libraries, +and the best of pictures, and of music, and of +theatrical and other exhibitions at hand. O, +people ought to pay for living in London.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And the most natural way is to pay in rent, +and therefore in house-tax also. In as far as +the country improves,—as provincial towns approach +more nearly to the glory of London,—rents +and house-tax will rise much more certainly +than by any law that shall attempt to equalize +them with the metropolis. I would not interfere +between the shop-owner of Charing-Cross and +the shop-owner of A——. The real grievance +lies between the noblemen of Charing-Cross and +of Yorkshire, and the landlord of a shop in the +Strand. While the shop-owner pays a house-duty +of 80<i>l.</i> a-year, and the peer in the park no +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.101'>101</span>more, and another peer in his country palace +less than half, there is certainly ample room for +complaint.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Without proving that the tax itself is bad. I +should think some test of value, other than the +rent they would bring, might be found out for +those country palaces which, with all their splendour +and convenience, might be difficult to let. +Very rich men would not mind having the value +of one article of their property ascertained, in +order to be taxed, however disagreeable the inquisition +may be to a less wealthy man, whose +credit depends on the amount of his property. +The house-tax would become a property-tax in +this way.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“It is a property-tax already; and therefore a +tax of the best kind; and therefore to be parted +with only when swallowed up in a general property-tax. +Yet I am afraid it will be parted with, +on account of the clamour of people who live near +enough to the Treasury to make their clamour +seem very terrible. If the sum which will then +be taken off——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“How much?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“The house and window taxes together are +between two and three millions.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“That would go a great way towards relieving +the poor of some really bad taxes, and particularly +if great houses were taxed as they should +be, so as to allow of more reduction in a right +place.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Besides that the excise,—the really bad +taxes, some of which press so heavily on the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.102'>102</span>poor,—cost such an amazing deal to collect, +that the saving in taking them off would be +much more than the amount that comes into the +Treasury.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“If the house-tax is taken off,” said Fanny, +“I shall persuade Richard to rebel at not being +asked for it, as vehemently as some people in +London threaten to rebel for a contrary reason. +I should like to see a higher tax laid upon Fellbrow. +I think we do not pay our share.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You have nothing to do but to give Mr. +Taplin a hint to that effect. He will be very +thankful for it.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Why?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“He will gain a per centage upon the increase. +These surveyors of the assessed taxes have so +much per cent. upon all that they can lay hold +of, which would not have been paid but for their +exertions.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“That is what makes Mr. Taplin so disliked,” +Sarah observed. “He squeezes every shilling he +can get from people who do not know how to +answer him, or resist him.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Let them come to Richard,” cried Fanny. +“He knows the law. He will help them, I am +sure.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“He cannot,” said James. “There is nothing +for it but applying in person to the Commissioners; +and many people do not think the matter +is mended by going to the Commissioners at all.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But Richard might keep Mr. Taplin in awe.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“That depends on whether Taplin has most +reason to wish to stand well with Richard or to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.103'>103</span>have his per centage on increases. He will soon +be taxing you for Fido, Sarah. I will answer for +it he has Fido down in his memorandum-book +already.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Fanny dreaded a burst of grief from Sarah; +but she did not know Sarah’s power of self-command, +or appreciate the strength of the motive +to keep back the sad tale till the lovers should +be alone. Wallace had sauntered near them, so +as to hear the last sentence, and be struck with a +bright idea in consequence.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What do you think I have a good mind to +do?” said he to Anne. “It would be capital fun +to send an anonymous letter,—very solemn,—to +Taplin, to bid him look to your sister’s dog, and +tell him of half a hundred more taxable articles +that she never had or will have.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, don’t do it, Mr. Wallace! You will +make him so angry, and my father, too!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And then,” pursued Wallace, “she will have +to come before the Commissioners to tell her +story, and——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, Mr. Wallace, pray do not!” entreated +Anne.</p> + +<p class='c001'>The more alarmed she looked, the more Wallace +was amused with the idea of bringing up, +not only Sarah, but half the neighbourhood, before +the Commissioners. He suspected that +Taplin’s avarice about his per centages would +carry him a great way in demanding what he had +no right to. In answer to her “Pray do not,” +Anne obtained a “Well, well,” which satisfied +her. In all innocence, she allowed him to extract +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.104'>104</span>from her everything she knew about the +little concerns of her acquaintance among the +small housekeepers of A——, and the cottages +on Whitford’s lands. She was charmed by Mr. +Wallace’s close interest in such trifles, and so +engrossed by it that her father’s voice startled +her when he called to her over the hedge. He +was mounted, leading a string of horses which +he was conducting to a fair at some distance. +As George was otherwise engaged, it was necessary +for the girls to be at home to keep the +books, he said, and they had been out a very long +time. Where was Sarah?</p> + +<p class='c001'>When Anne looked round, Sarah and her companions +were not to be seen. Till lately, nothing +so wonderful had ever happened as that the one +sister should not know where the other was, or +should have to go home alone. Wallace’s gallantry +was exhausted. After explaining the improbability +of Anne’s meeting another mad dog +this day, he loaded his piece, and declared he +must have a turn through yonder cover before +he showed himself in A, though the hour for +business appointed by himself was already past. +He supposed James was there; and he would +serve the purpose at present. If James was gone +elsewhere after his amusement, why the people +at A—— must wait a little.</p> + +<div> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_1.105'>105</span> + <h3 id='ch1.6' class='c012'><span class='sc'>Chapter VI.</span><br> <br> BATTLES AT NAVARINO.</h3> +</div> + +<p class='c017'>“Who said James was at his living?” asked +Fanny of her brother Richard, as she sat at a +window of the Navarino, waiting till he should +have settled his business with the surveyor and +the commissioners, and be at liberty to finish his +walk with her. “Who said James was at his +house this morning?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Not I,” said Richard. “I know nothing +about him. Where is he?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Riding over the moor with the Lees. You +may see them from this window. Now look? +Just turning down towards Bray Fells. He wants +to show Mary Lee that ride under the crags; +and they could not have a finer morning.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“When did the Lees come? I heard nothing +of their being here.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“They only arrived yesterday; and they will +be off to town again in a month. They spend +Christmas here, that is all. Mary Lee little expected +such weather as this,—little expected any +rides so near Christmas, I should think.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“James will take care that she has one every +day, I dare say, while the roads are in their present +state. He will make the most of a party of friends +while they are to be had. How long are we to +be kept here, I wonder?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“There is no knowing. There is quite a little +crowd below, and more are coming up every +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.106'>106</span>minute. If all these people are here on business, +like you, there is no telling when it will be done.” +Leaning forward to whisper, she added, “The +Swallows are here, I see. Let me ask the girls +to this window. I want you to see Sarah. I +don’t call it seeing her, to sit in the park, and +take a curtsey from her as she passes.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Nor did Richard: but he did not wish to be +aiding and abetting in deceiving the poor girl. +From this hour James’s head would be full of +Miss Lee——</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Of Mary Lee! he never cared for her in +London.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Because he was taken up with other things +then. At Fellbrow, he fell in love for want of +better amusement——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“If I thought that——”—cried Fanny.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I do not mean but that he would be as angry +as you, if he heard me say so. He is fully persuaded,—at +least he was yesterday,—that he has +lost his heart in that direction,” glancing towards +the girls; “but before Christmas-day, he will +find that he has it to lose again.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Fanny spoke not another word. She repeated +again and again to herself how glad she was that +she had warned Sarah against the infirmity of +some of James’s purposes, though she had believed +as fully as Sarah herself that he was really +in love. She had prepared Sarah for his house +never being finished,—for his betaking himself +to the turf when he should be tired of the field,—for +his putting a curate into his living, and carrying +Sarah to London, never perhaps to visit A—— +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.107'>107</span>again: but that he would give up Sarah,—that is, +that he did not really love her, was a danger that +Fanny herself had not anticipated since she had +witnessed the courtship. Her spirits were sunk +fathoms deep in a moment.</p> + +<p class='c001'>It was Sarah who had said that James was to +be at his living this morning. She could not go +with him, because she had to appear before the +commissioners to plead against paying duty for +the dog she had lost. She was now not in the +best spirits. The errand hither was not a pleasant +one: her grief for Fido was still fresh; and +a strange trouble connected with him was in her +mind. James had not been half so angry, or half +so sorry, as she had expected, when she told him, +the day before, of Fido’s fate. She had dreaded +his anger so much that she was not sorry that he +had been detained by his clerical duties all Sunday, +and that Monday was a pouring rain, so that +she did not see him. Yet on Tuesday, when she +told him, she was as much surprised at his indifference +as he was at her tears. He could easily +get her another dog, he said; and she had been +almost as much offended at the words as when the +thresher had said the same thing. As if another +could be the first gift! She was not much cheered +at this moment by what she saw from the window,—the +riding party lightly winning its way over +the moor towards the very rocks whose echoes——O, +what had not been confided to those +echoes! But he was coming this afternoon, to +consult her about a Christmas feast he was planning +for the poor people in his parish, and then +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.108'>108</span>she should hear who these gentry were, and why +he was obliged to ride with them. What a bustle +there was below!</p> + +<p class='c001'>The Navarino indeed looked something like +the rallying point of a host of hoaxed persons. +When the commissioners arrived, they saw at a +glance that to-day they must not dawdle about +for a quarter of an hour, hat in hand, and yawn, +and go away again, but prepare for the transaction +of real business. Was there a rebellion +against Taplin and his customary charges? or +had an informer been stimulating Taplin to make +new charges which were to be resisted?</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Let Swallow speak first,” said Richard. “His +time is more precious than mine.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Whose is not?” asked his sister, laughing.</p> + +<p class='c001'>It ended in every body’s business being dispatched +before Richard’s. His main occupation,—that +of observing men and manners,—proceeded, +however, to his satisfaction.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Mine is a very extraordinary case, gentlemen,” +pleaded Swallow. “The surveyor fixes +the assessment of my premises at 70<i>l.</i> Gentlemen, +I was never asked for more than 20<i>l.</i> till +now.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Taplin thought he ought to be very thankful +for escaping the larger payment so long. His +ranges of stables,—all his large back premises,—had +been hitherto overlooked, and the house +alone charged for.</p> + +<p class='c001'>The plan of the premises was produced. Swallow +insisted that there was no connexion whatever +between the house and the back premises;—merely +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.109'>109</span>that the house-door opened under the +gateway. No witnesses could be heard as to the +supposed value of the property compared with the +neighbouring houses, or as to any of the points +Swallow wished to establish. The rent of the +entire estate was sworn to, and that the house +was not considered separate from the back premises +on any occasion but when the house-tax +was to be levied. Swallow’s case was pronounced +a bad one. He must pay the 70<i>l.</i> Swallow was +very cross,—declaring that taxation was enough +to ruin any man. No man was more burdened +than he. His very calling was taxed. Who else, +he wondered, but horse-dealers, paid 12<i>l.</i> 10<i>s.</i> +a-year for following their business?</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Come, come; that won’t do,” said Taplin. +“We all know well enough that it is your customers +that pay that tax, and your interest upon +your 12<i>l.</i> 10<i>s.</i> ’Tis a very good tax; and you +won’t succeed in making people discontented +with it. If every thirteen thousand pounds of +tax was as pleasantly raised as that, we assessors +should hear few complaints.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Move off, sir, unless you have any other complaint +to make,” said one of the commissioners +to Swallow.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I have, sir. Here is a charge of a pound for +a dog of my daughter’s. Neither of my daughters +has a dog; as they are both here to testify.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“A pound charged! A greyhound then. +Will these young ladies swear that they have not +been in possession of a greyhound?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“That is the point,” declared Taplin. “The +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.110'>110</span>young ladies will not deny that a greyhound, by +name Fido——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Never mind the name,” said the commissioner.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But he is dead,” murmured Sarah. “I had +him only——only——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, you grant you had one: then you must +pay.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Swallow muttered that if his daughter had had +the impertinence to deny, or equivocate, or battle +the matter with the surveyor, she might have got +off. He now vented his displeasure upon the +girls, desiring them to accept of no more dogs; +unless somebody else could be found to pay the +duty: for he could not and would not.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Yet it was owing to Sarah that he escaped a +far heavier and more expensive vexation. Horse-dealers +are bound to deliver in accounts of the +exercise of their trade (as they do not take out +licenses) once a quarter, to the assessor. Partly +from his having delivered the book into George’s +keeping, and having a short memory for what +was not before his eyes, and partly from the hurry +and bustle consequent on George’s commitment, +and his own narrow escape, Swallow had forgotten +all about this quarterly report. It was +Sarah who remembered it, just in time, and saved +the fine. Swallow took occasion, in the midst of +his wrath, to ask the surveyor if he was not +grievously disappointed that this fine of 50<i>l.</i> remained +safe in the horse-dealer’s pocket. The +surveyor declared it was no concern of his.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mrs. Barton! the loyal Mrs. Barton! what +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.111'>111</span>could she be here for? She might have been +expected to pay the last half of her last cup of +tea in tax, if the king had been graciously pleased +to call for it. What could bring her here?</p> + +<p class='c001'>A very aggravated distress about windows. +She and Miss Biggs could use no more than one +window each to look out of; and when the maid +had appropriated a third, far more remained than +were necessary for the ventilation of Mrs. Barton’s +small house. Four windows had for years been +shut up. The surveyor had now taken it into his +head to charge for these windows. He pretended +to suppose that these windows might be opened +the day after he had turned his back. Such a +dreadful supposition! that Mrs. Barton would +cheat the king! She,—the most devoted to +Church and King——</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Please to tell us, ma’am, how these windows +are closed up.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Sir, the shutters are put to, and painted black, +sir; and then there is lath and plaster erected +within; so that not the minutest particle of light——not +the most piercing eye——O, who could +suspect me? But I cannot, you see, gentlemen, +when the commerce of the place has so +fallen off, and such a revolution and transition is +going on; and when four windows are in question——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Taplin only knew that he had received information +that Mrs. Barton’s dead windows could +let in any convenient portion of light upon occasion. +As for her business failing off, everybody +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.112'>112</span>knew that she had fresh customers for hair-powder——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What is that to us, Taplin?” said the surveyor. +“Do keep to business. It is the least +you can do, after bringing all these people about +us to-day.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“They brought me; not I them, gentlemen. +If they had chosen to pay at once, there would +have been none of this trouble. But her selling +more hair-powder has to do with business. She +cannot deny that she has starch in her house.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I!—Bless me! Starch in my house!” cried +Mrs. Barton, looking from side to side, as if not +knowing whether to admit or deny that she had +starch in her house.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Remember your oath. You have sworn to +speak the truth, remember,” said Taplin, terrifically. +“Your having starch gives me a strong impression +that I shall find alabaster there, one of these +days.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“We have nothing to do with strong impressions,” +declared the commissioners. “If you +have nothing more to say about these windows, +Taplin,—if you cannot overthrow Mrs. Barton’s +evidence of their being completely shut up, we +must decide in her favour.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What is all this about starch, and alabaster, +and strong impressions?” asked Fanny of her +brother.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Those who sell hair-powder (which is made +of alabaster and starch) are prohibited from +keeping alabaster in their houses. Taplin chooses +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.113'>113</span>to suppose Mrs. Barton has alabaster, because +he is told she has starch. But that is an excise +inquiry, and has nothing to do with the +assessed taxes, as he knows. He only wants to +frighten her, and make her give up about the +windows.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“They assess Maynard’s white head, however.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Yes, I have had to pay 1<i>l.</i> 3<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> for your +serving man’s white head.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Must I make him leave off powder?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Not unless you wish to send him to his grave. +No, government shall have the advantage of +Maynard’s taste in dress as long as the old fellow +lives with us. How Mrs. Barton’s head shakes! +How triumphant she looks! I am afraid she +will grow disloyal, after all. The commissioners +are offering her a direct premium on resistance +to——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ah! to what? To Taplin, not to taxation. +I am sure it must be a very bad thing for a government +to have such servants as Taplin,—so +prying,—so grasping!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“There will be such till people grow as honest +about paying their taxes as their other liabilities.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Stay, ma’am, we have not done with you +yet,” said Taplin to Mrs. Barton. “There is a +gentleman below, that I find travels for your +house,—a commercial traveller, ma’am; 1<i>l.</i> 10<i>s.</i> +is the tax, ma’am, which I hope he brings you +orders enough to enable you to pay. I shall by +no means give up the claim for the windows, but +refer it to the six judges: but I conceive you will +hardly contest the traveller.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_1.114'>114</span>“If you mean Mr. Taylor, who brought me a +message from cousin Becky that she wanted +some eau de Cologne, I am happy to tell you +that gentleman never rode a mile out of his way +for me.” And Mrs. Barton related that Mr. Taylor +and her cousin were engaged, and that Mr. +Taylor, being a commercial traveller, called on +Mrs. Barton as he passed through A——, to give +her news of Becky; but she offered to swear that +he never took an order for her, or paid her any +money, in his life. Some wag had imposed upon +Taplin. Everybody laughed. Mrs. Barton had +better have stopped here. Emboldened by the +success of her eloquence, she went on to complain +of the distresses of the times to commercial +people, and of the favour shown to the agricultural +class over that to which she belonged. She +was afraid his Majesty forgot that kings formerly +lived upon the land, and at the expense of those +who held it. It was quite an innovation, their +now living upon their trading subjects. Farmers +had no house-tax to pay. There were actually +near 137,000 farm-houses in England and Wales +exempt from the house-tax. Farmers’ horses +were to pay no tax, forsooth; and her friend +Mr. Whitford had insured his farm-stock, and +been charged nothing for the stamp. If a rich +man’s wealth did but happen to be land, he was +not charged the inventory and legacy duties; +and so it was in these degenerate days, that traders, +the most useful set of subjects the king could +have——</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You say so because you are a trader, and +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.115'>115</span>not a farmer, Mrs. Barton,” observed her friend, +Mr. Whitford. “If you had to pay such burdens +as I have, or even such a charge as I am here +about now——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Come, let us hear it, Mr. Whitford,” said +the Commissioners.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Of all unconscionable things, the surveyor +wants to charge me for my market-cart.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Because you use it to ride in, I suppose?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“The horse cannot go to market without somebody +to drive him; but we have a gig for our +pleasure; and that I pay for.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Your gig for pleasure, and your cart for +convenience, I suppose. Does nobody ever ride +in your cart for convenience?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Whitford could not deny that if his wife and +he wanted to go into A——, or to the village of +M——, they took the opportunity of a lift when +the good wife and her boy were going with mutton, +eggs, and butter; but the cart was a market-cart, +and he already paid for a gig. It came out, +however, that the cart was painted so as to look +very pretty; and there was a seat which could +be strapped on, to make the vehicle convenient +for more persons than could be wanted to drive +it to market.—The assessment was confirmed.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Whitford hoped Mrs. Barton perceived that +agriculture was not too much considered. She +saw the treatment he met with to-day; and if she +was aware how Taplin was on the watch whenever +the farm-horses went to drink, to find out +that they were used for some purpose which +might justify a charge,—if she knew how nearly +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.116'>116</span>he prevailed with the Commissioners last time to +tax Whitford for his shepherd’s dog, she would +to think trade particularly aggrieved.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Taplin declared that Whitford’s horses went +to drink oftener than any horses at the Navarino +or the Turk’s Head thought of drinking. It had +become quite a joke, Whitford’s horses going to +drink; and the dog was certainly seen feeding +off one of Whitford’s sheep.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Because the sheep happened to die, Whitford +declared. In that case, the Commissioners had +done justice to agriculture.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“These people are a specimen of how people +talk, the wide world over,” observed Richard to +his sister. “You see how they argue upon the +vast interests of vast bodies from the temporary +aspect of their own little affairs. Agriculture is +protected or oppressed, according as Whitford +has to pay thirty shillings more or less; and +Mrs. Barton’s windows are to be the test how +trade is regarded by King, Lords, and Commons.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I wonder how King, Lords, and Commons +are ever to know what to depend upon, if all +interests are urged in this partial way,” observed +Fanny.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“There are always principles to be depended +upon in this matter of taxation, as in everything +else; and there can be no other safe guides. +Amidst the inconsistent, the bewildering representations +offered, a certain number must be in +accordance with true principles; and it is these +which must be professedly acted upon.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_1.117'>117</span>“But if foolish representations abound, and +wise ones are scarce, what must Government do +then?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“The last thing it ought to do is to ground +its proceedings on the ignorance of the people,—to +yield them that which they will hereafter despise +the donors for granting them.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“The house-tax, for instance, which some +people in London are clamouring to be rid of.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“The house-tax, indeed, is an instance. The +house-tax is one of the best taxes that ever was +imposed. It is one of the very few which falls +only on the wealthy and substantial—on none +below the owners of houses. It is a direct tax, +and might be made an equal one; and is particularly +convenient as to the time and mode of +payment, to all who are not such babies as to +prefer having their money taken from them without +their knowing it. This tax is unpopular with +a portion of a particular class; and an immense +proportion of the nation knows nothing, and has +nothing to say, about it. This gives a favourable +opportunity to the highest classes, who have not +paid their due share, to get rid together of the +question and the odium of not paying their share; +and thus the Government is tempted to silence +clamour and please the aristocracy, on the plea +of yielding to the popular wish. But if the Government +yields to this temptation,—if it takes +off the best-principled tax we have, and leaves +the worst,—I hope it is preparing itself for that +retribution which, sooner or later, overtakes every +government which founds its measures on popular +ignorance.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_1.118'>118</span>“But what can be done? Is not its unpopularity +a sufficient reason for the abolition of a tax, +when some tax is to be abolished?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Its general unpopularity. But, in this instance, +the opposition, though harassing, is partial, +and only such as might easily be diverted, by +equalizing the pressure of the tax. If it were +now to be thus equalized, and if any pains whatever +were taken to exhibit to the people the comparative +qualities of this duty, and of any one of +our worst excise taxes, the very shopkeepers of +London would soon worship the footsteps of the +Chancellor of the Exchequer for preferring to +their dictation the unurged interests of the +many.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“The taxes that have been in question to-day +have none of them fallen on the poor.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“None of the direct taxes do; yet they are +so few, that the poorer classes pay five times as +much as the classes above them. Now, mark +our consistency. We admit (because nobody can +deny) that an equitable taxation leaves all parties +in the same relative position in which it found +them. We know (or might know) that the +poorer classes are made, by indirect taxation, to +pay five times as much as others; and yet, as +soon as there is a tax to take off, we leave the +excise untouched, and relieve the upper classes +of the very heaviest which bears particularly on +them, and the very fairest which our long list +can exhibit. This injustice could not be perpetrated +if the poor had their rights, either of enlightenment +or of parliamentary representation.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_1.119'>119</span>“I do wonder that these assessed taxes are +so unpopular, even among those who pay them; +for, however disagreeable it may be to have the +tax-gatherer come and take a certain sum, which +the owner would like to keep for some other +purpose, the tax-payer is, at least, master of his +own house and his own business. The brewer, +and the paper-maker, and the glass-manufacturer +have much more reason to complain, liable as +they are to be watched and persecuted by excisemen, +and insulted by anybody who chooses to +inform.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“These direct taxes are difficult to evade; +and this, which is a real virtue in a tax, makes it +disliked by those who entertain ‘an ignorant impatience +of taxation.’ But it ought to be known +that the most ingenious person that ever evaded +the payment of his share of tax would part with +less of his money by manly payment, under a +system of direct taxation, than by paying no more +than he could possibly help under an excise and +customs’ system. Mr. Pitt lowered the duty on +tea in 1784; and, to make up for the deficiency +to Government, laid on an additional window-tax. +What happened? The same classes who had to +pay an additional window-duty found that they +had more money than before to spend on tea. +The consumption of tea increased so marvellously, +that the amount of revenue it brought in +was not much less than before; and Government +was, on the whole, a great gainer, and the people +not losers. Less was lost between the people’s +pockets and the Treasury. If we could but take +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.120'>120</span>a lesson from this event, and go on diminishing +our indirect and increasing our direct taxation, +both Government and people might be astonished +at the apparent creation of wealth to them both. +It is grievous to think of 2,000,000<i>l.</i> being levied +on our own manufactures, and 6,000,000<i>l.</i> on the +raw materials in the country, while only five millions +and a quarter are raised by direct taxation, +while the cost of collection of the one is three +times that of the other. If, out of this five millions +and a quarter, the house-tax is yet to be +taken, we must bear to be taunted with ‘the +wisdom of our ancestors,’ and be sure that our +posterity will not have much to say in praise of +ours.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And yet people talk of absentees being +brought home by the doing away of direct taxes.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“The absentees will hardly talk of coming +home for any such reason. They see that there +is now a smaller proportion of direct taxation in +this country than in any other in Europe; and +they know that out of our government revenue +of between forty and fifty millions, scarcely one +million and a half is raised on expenditure peculiar +to the rich, and that they did not go abroad +to escape this very slight burden. If they did +not go abroad to escape it, they will not be +brought back by a small reduction of their small +share.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And if they could be brought back, their +return is not for a moment to be set against any +advantage given to the lower and more heavily-burdened +classes.—But see! there are some poor +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.121'>121</span>people standing before the Commissioners; some +really poor people, Richard.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Who can yet afford some luxury which Mr. +Taplin has got scent of, perhaps.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Do you know, I think some informer has +been busy among us. Mr. Taplin can never +have had the wit to find out so suddenly all these +liabilities.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“There are informers for profit, and informers +for fun, Fanny. I have seen somebody enjoying +the joke as the tax-payers came up to appeal; and +the more cross they look, the more he enjoys the +fun. He is a good deal annoyed, I fancy, at our +sitting here so quietly, waiting to let my case be +the last.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Wallace! Do you think he would connect +himself with Mr. Taplin?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Anonymous letters would serve the purpose. +But I will not forgive him for wasting the time +of these poor people, if they are not liable; and +I cannot think they can be liable.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The group consisted of a poor woman and her +two sons, the elder of whom resembled her in his +evident dread of being sworn, while the younger +seemed likely to fail in nothing for want of courage. +The mother might safely swear, however, +that the mule for which she was to be taxed, if +Mr. Taplin was to have his way, was given by +Mr. Whitford to her elder lad, and that it was too +young to be used yet; and when it should be +strong enough, it would not pay its own tax of +half a guinea. If she might be let off now, she +would get rid of the beast before night, if the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.122'>122</span>gentlemen pleased. Any of them should be welcome +to the mule, which was of no use to her, +but only cropped its living along the lanes. Mr. +Taplin was made duly ashamed of this charge.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Perhaps the being upon oath tied the tongue +of the elder lad; for he would not say that he +had not carried a gun any day this last season; +that he had not, in any manner, knocked down a +hare or a rabbit; that he had not been seen +coursing when Mr. Cranston’s harriers were in +the field. He declared that he was there merely +as a spectator; that he had no dogs; and that he +was returning on horseback from an errand on +which he had been sent by his master, and had +merely joined the sport because the horse he +rode wished to do so. These excuses were not +admitted: he was requested to pay 3<i>l.</i> 13<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i>; +on hearing which request, he turned as white as +ashes, and looked apprehensively at his mother. +It was clear that they could not raise the money.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“For God’s sake, Richard, tell me how I may +get this poor fellow off,” said Wallace, coming +up to his brother, in much perturbation.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Suppose you pay the fine. It is hardly fair +that the Government should not have something +out of your pocket to-day, when you have managed +to extract more or less from almost every +body else. I do wonder you could bring yourself +to waste the valuable time of these poor +people; and pray observe how their consciences +are racked about the oath. I fancy a little bold +swearing would have brought off that good lad. +Stop, Wallace!” as Wallace was darting towards +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.123'>123</span>his victim. Wallace returned. “I am pretty +sure the Commissioners are wrong here. You +can offer to refer the case to the six judges, if +you think proper: I feel sure they will give it +against the Commissioners.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You must make the offer, Richard; I will +take all the trouble, I faithfully promise you. But +you would not have me be thanked by these +people, when they do not know that I brought +them into this scrape: you must speak up for +them.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Richard did so; and Wallace whispered to +them that, happen what might, they would have +nothing to pay. The younger lad swore to all +and everything that was convenient, in order to +escape what his brother had been threatened with. +He had not carried a gun. Well, if he had, it +was only to shoot crows. O yes; he had shot +at something besides crows,—he had brought +down a paper kite that had stuck in a tree. +That which he brought home in his bag was a +weasel, which his master thanked him for destroying. +Thus did he get rid of every question; and +he evidently took credit to himself for his superiority +over his brother in cleverness. Fanny +thought it all very bad, and was glad to be convinced +that the fault lay, not in the principle of +the taxes in question, but in the methods of managing +their collection. Even now, all this was +far less disagreeable and pernicious than the management +of the excise and customs’ duties; and +the remedy would certainly arrive whenever the +race of tax-gatherers should improve, which will +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.124'>124</span>be whenever the people shall learn their duty in +respect of paying taxes. When all shall be done +openly, and persons shall subscribe to government +as they subscribe to any other institution, +as a condition of sharing the privileges, there will +be an end of secret informations and of perjury. +Till then, as it is clear that there is far less of +these grievances and crimes under a system of +direct than indirect taxation, let those who dislike +underhand enmity and false swearing advocate +the utmost possible simplification of the system,—the +imposition of few and direct, in place of +many and complicated, taxes.</p> + +<p class='c001'>It was a sad necessity for Mr. Pritchard of the +Turk’s Head to have to appear in the house of +his rival of the Navarino; but it was necessary, +not only to show himself, but to lose his cause. +The Expedition stage-coach had started from the +Turk’s Head from the time when Pritchard was +the smartest of young innkeepers till now, when +he was losing his energy and going out of +fashion; and, during many a year, had he, the +proprietor, paid the tax upon the two coaches +which daily passed each other on the road. It +had now suddenly occurred to Mr. Taplin that +there must be a third coach always ready for use, +in case of any accident happening to the other +two. No protestations of the impossibility of +more than two being wanted were of any use. +The existence of the third could not be denied, +nor its having been seen on the road within a +month. Pritchard was compelled to pay for +three.</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_1.125'>125</span>And now was Richard’s turn. He happened +to have a seal with a horse’s head and his initials +upon it. Taplin charged him for armorial bearings. +Richard paid for these on his carriages, +and he thought this enough. He stoutly argued +his point about crests and coats of arms; and even +went so far as to talk of appealing to the six +judges if the commissioners decided against him. +It was in vain. He threw down his 2<i>l.</i> 8<i>s.</i> at +last, to save further trouble to himself and other +people, and sighed over the seal, with the use of +which he should indulge himself no more while +in Mr. Taplin’s neighbourhood. He had nothing +to say against the tax. There could +hardly be a better, particularly as it was improving +in productiveness; but he could not submit to +use a seal in so expensive a way.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“It rather gives one pleasure to see you suffer,” +observed Fanny, when one considers a surcharge +on ourselves as a kind of reparation to the +poor for their bearing, as a class, so much more +than we do. It is a comfort to think that Mr. +Taplin has not laid a finger on one poor person +to-day, except——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Except the poor fellow whose suffering, if +inflicted, would have been ultimately owing to +our game-laws. Those game-duties are fair +enough while our gentry go on preserving their +game, and bringing upon their heads the blood +and moral destruction of the hundreds and thousands +that are lost for their indulgence.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Fanny observed that she had never thought so +much about the old French nobility as since the gaol +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.126'>126</span>at A—— had been tenanted by offenders against +Richard’s game.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I cannot bear it,” said Richard. “I must +go through with the affair, now it is begun, I +suppose, for the sake of the country gentlemen in +the neighbourhood: but it is the last time poor +men shall first be tempted by me into what they +do not consider crime, and then punished in a +way which makes them criminal. I feel already +as if I must be answerable for all the real crime +and all the misery which must result from these +men being separated from their families and their +employments, and thrown into the corruption of +a prison. I cannot bear it.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What will you do?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Leave off preserving my game; give it up +as property; do anything rather than foster night +meetings of poachers, and cause an annual transformation +of some of them into burglars, or lawless +wretches of some proscribed class or another. +Ah! I know James and Wallace will be very +angry. But let them go and sport elsewhere, if +they must sport. They shall not have my countenance +in spoiling my neighbourhood. When +they have to go a long way to find a bird, and +have tried in vain to start a hare, they may invite +themselves somewhere else, and leave me with +my rooks, which I like better than my pheasants, +after all.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But is it not rather a pity?” Fanny had +some regrets.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Certainly it will require some self-denial, +even in me, who am careless about sport: but are +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.127'>127</span>we rich people so very sorely exercised in self-denial +that, living in a country where food is the +one scarce thing, we must forbid the half-starved +labourer to touch the tempting flesh and fowl +that spring from beneath his feet, as he walks +where no eyes see him?—flesh and fowl which +he regards as common property, because they +are by nature wild? Be the labourer right or +wrong in his notion, as long as his want and his +notion co-exist, I will surrender to the weakness +of his condition what I am not at all sure that I +should deny to the strength of his arguments. +No man shall in my time go to gaol for offences +against the Fellbrow game. Maynard may teach +Mrs. Barton to set springes if he pleases; and +Swallow may carry away his dozen hares in broad +day, instead of at night. If George comes out +no worse a boy than he went in, his pretty sisters +shall hold him at his post in the office for me. +We must think of some way of keeping Morse’s +heart from breaking. That is the thing most to +be dreaded. He cares more for the pheasants +than for poor Alick, I believe.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Those game-duties must be given up, if every +gentleman followed your example. But, to be +sure, there are more important things involved in +the question than the game-duties.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Taxes on luxury are excellent things, when +that part which is paid in money is all. But when +reputation, innocence, the comfort of some entire +families, and the actual subsistence of others, are +the tax paid for one factitious luxury enjoyed by +those who revel in luxuries, the cost is too great. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.128'>128</span>James says that one of our neighbours will be +transported; that he has evidence of something +worse than the mere poaching. For my part, I +conclude that most of those concerned will be +either transported or hanged, sooner or later. +Such is the common issue of poaching.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“One would think some man-hater had ingeniously +planned this method by which to slide +from mere carelessness or frolic into crime. Here +is just the intermediate step between honesty and +dishonesty, without which many an one would +never have transgressed. Here is a property +which is so peculiar as not to be considered a +property by those who are tempted to take it. +Punish them as for taking property, and they +become wilful thieves, and all is over. But who +is the one neighbour James means?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You will be surprised to learn; but it is a +secret at present. Now, shall we walk?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“As soon as Mrs. Barton is gone from before +the door. I think she will never have done talking +to Maynard.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Not till you go down. She is waiting to +speak to you, and you may as well take it graciously.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, but I bought some lavender water of her +only yesterday.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Never mind! I dare say she has something +new to say to you to-day about Church and +King.”</p> + +<div> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_1.129'>129</span> + <h3 id='ch1.7' class='c012'><span class='sc'>Chapter VII.</span><br> <br> LOUNGING AND LISTENING.</h3> +</div> + +<p class='c017'>“I never said anything so decidedly to you before, +James, but you must stay,” said Richard to +his brother, the clergyman, who was lounging +from window to window of the library.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Such a place to keep one shut up in, in the +midst of winter!” muttered James. “It is +enough to make one melancholy to look at that +black frozen water under the rocks, and all the +trees within sight loaded with snow, and not a +twig stirring to shake off so much as a flake. ’Tis +so desolate when one compares it with London, +I declare my spirits won’t stand it.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“One week cannot make much difference. It +was all your doing that any stir was made about +these poachers at all, and you must stay a few +days longer to carry the matter through. What +difference can one week make?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“All the difference in the world. The journey +up to town with the Lees signifies more than any +thing I shall meet with when I get there. The +happiness of my whole life may depend on those +three days of travelling——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“How little you know of yourself, James,” +said his sister, “if you think that anything that +can happen in three days can make you happy!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You can make me preciously unhappy, I +know, if you keep me three days longer in this +miserable place. Why, ’tis a place only fit for a +hermit to live in, in winter.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_1.130'>130</span>And he glanced at a green stain which was +still conspicuous on the ceiling. It was convenient +to overlook the thick new carpet, the roaring fire, +and the ample provision of books, whose arrangement +had been just completed under his own eye. +“It is very strange if you cannot transport a +man without my help. I am sure I wish Taplin +had gone on thumbing his Ready Reckoner for +many a night to come before I had meddled with +him. It will end in my being full as much +punished as he, or any of his gang.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Thumbing his what?” asked Fanny of +Richard.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“The Ready Reckoner. Taplin has been the +head of the poaching gang. It has been organized +by him,—made into a kind of club, sworn +to co-operate. Taplin administered the oath; +and his excuse is, that the men were sworn, not +on a Testament, but on the Ready Reckoner. +We have evidence enough to transport Taplin. +It was James that obtained it; (you had better +ask him how;) and now he wants to be off to +London, at the critical moment, (you had better +ask him why,) and leave me to manage the matter +in which I have never stirred, except in as far as +I was forced by him.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I know the how and the why,” observed +Fanny, gravely. “The greatest wonder of all +is to hear him talk of the happiness of his future +life, with such a how and why lying on his conscience.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Now, you just show, at this moment, the +folly of meddling in other people’s affairs, and +preaching about other people’s consciences,” said +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.131'>131</span>James, turning round from the window. “I can +tell you that Sarah Swallow is going to be married. +I know it for fact; for her intended told +me of it himself. Indeed, he asked me to marry +them. What do you think of this, Fanny?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I think just as I did before. If Sarah proved +herself as light-minded and fickle as yourself,—if +she so injured and betrayed the interests of her +sex,—how does that excuse your treachery to——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Now, if you say another word about the +sanctity of the church, and the dignity of the +clerical character, and all that, I will never set +foot in my living again to the end of my days.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I was not going to make any appeal to you +which I know to be so useless. The clerical +character has no dignity in your keeping; and +you take care that the church shall have no +sanctity in the eyes of your people.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“That is not my fault.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I know it. You can no more be a clergyman +than you can be a musician or a sculptor. +Your misfortune and that of your people is that +you are called a clergyman.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ah! I saw two old women dreadfully scandalized, +the last time I came from the hunt. +They thought I was over the ears in a pitcher of +ale; but I heard them say, ‘There’s our parson, +with not a thread of black on him but his neck-cloth.‘”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“The sin of the case lies with the church that +makes a point of a black coat while she tempts +in——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Black hearts?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Hearts that must needs come out black from +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.132'>132</span>being steeped in the hypocrisy of a professed +sanctity.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I am sure I never professed any sanctity.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Therefore your heart is not of the deepest +black of all. But what has been your only alternative? +Leading your people to think that no +sanctity exists.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“That is the fault of the system,—not mine. +The system made it a matter of course that I +should be a clergyman. Here I am. I must +either set my face at its full length, and play a +damned deep part when I talk of righteousness, +and temperance, and——and all that—-”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And judgment to come,” said Richard, +gravely.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Or, if the people see I am thinking of anything +but what I am saying, they can hardly believe +that such threats signify much. You should +lay the blame on those that put me into the church.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“They would plead that you were put there as +a matter of course;—that you were born to it. +They would refer the blame farther back; where, +indeed, it ought to rest. The day must come +when faithless parents must be arraigned by their +injured children: and then will your people, +among a countless multitude besides, rise up in +judgment against mother-church for having made +an elaborate provision for, not only desecrating +the gospel, but generating infidelity towards both +God and man.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“That may be all very true; but I cannot +help my share of it now.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You can stop the spread of the mischief +which has sprung up through you. Come out +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.133'>133</span>of the church. You look more astonished than +there is any occasion for. Remember——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Remember, sister, how it is with other professions. +A bad physician does not give up +practice; nor does an ignorant lawyer, because +of incapacity.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Remember that the physician and lawyer +who are as well known to be as unfit for their +business as you are for yours, are not employed. +In the profession of the church alone are the +incapable sure of their occupation and its recompense. +But no one is more aware than you that +the days are coming when, if the unqualified do +not step out of the church, they will be plucked +out; or, if time be promised them to die out, it +will be a chance whether the impatience of the +long-betrayed people will not unroof the sanctuary +from over their heads. You well know +this, James. Your duty to your church, then, +requires that you vacate your place: that at least +one——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Knave? Hypocrite? Come. Out with it!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“At least one unqualified person may give +place to a true-hearted one who may help to +restore what has been laid waste. If you owe no +duty to your church, you do to your people; and +both the one and the other require you to vacate.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And Mary Lee forbids. If you had said all +this a month ago——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Then Sarah Swallow would have forbidden. +Your people must be betrayed in order to enable +you to marry, while, at the same time, you cannot +make up your mind whom to marry. You +will persuade yourself, when you have been +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.134'>134</span>married a month, that you have made the wrong +choice, after all. If you would give up your +living, and work with your conscience in some +other employment, instead of sporting with it in +this, you might find at last that you had a heart, +and that there was some one person who alone +could satisfy it. You might be happy, James, +after all.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“There is no use in that sort of thing now,” +urged James. “Sarah is disposed of, and +Mary Lee——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Disposed of!” said Fanny, fixing her eyes +upon him so that his were immediately turned +away.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Upon my honour, I had nothing to do with +it. It was all their own doing. It was as much +news to me as to anybody when Morse came to +ask me to marry him.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I believe you. I acquit you of providing +for the prostitution of one whose innocent heart +you had just gained, and found it convenient +to throw away.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But the winning and casting off led to the +rest,” observed Richard.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I tell you, she threw herself away. The +old man sought her because his son loved her,—not +because I did. But he is a good old fellow; +and after all——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Silence!” cried Fanny. “Go on, if you +dare, to say that to be the slave of an ignorant +old man,—the household drudge of a being she +despises for marrying her almost as much as she +despises herself for marrying him,—say, if you +dare, that this is a good enough lot for one whom +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.135'>135</span>you yourself taught to feel that she had a mind +and a heart, to be free in action, and devoted in +affection——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Her eyes rained tears, and her voice trembled +so that she could not go on to say that with +which her heart was overfull. James began to +ask himself whether he had not committed a +great mistake in deserting one for whom Fanny +seemed to feel so passionate an affection. In +the midst of her agitation, Fanny saw his misapprehension.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“It is for my sex,—it is for our nature, that I +feel it so much,” she struggled to say. “That +no more should be understood of what love is by +those who are acting in the very name of love! +That any one should dare to open only to darken,—to +expand only to crush! Anne says, ‘I +did say a great deal, but Sarah is so much cleverer +now than I am, that I dare not say all that +was in my mind. She sees how foolish many +things are that we never used to doubt of, and +that I do not understand any better now.’ Nothing +can be truer. The whole being of the one +sister has been awakened, in order to be tortured; +and the other can no longer console.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>To carry off some emotion which could not be +helped, James began to jest. He thought it was +only fair,—for the purpose of restoring the sympathy +between the sisters,—that he should flirt a +little with Anne.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Try;” Fanny said; and she spoke no more.</p> + +<p class='c001'>James next made an attempt upon Richard.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I am sure you ought to thank me, Richard. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.136'>136</span>You wanted to have Morse’s heart kept from +breaking, if you should give up preserving your +game. The thing is done, you see, thanks to +me.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Richard took no notice.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I never saw such a brother and sister in my +life,” cried James, with a heavy tread up and +down the room. “I believe you do not care for +anything that happens to me.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“We do,” said Richard; “but we are bound +to care for others too.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And for your future self,” added Fanny. +“James, do promise that you will not seek Mary +Lee. I do not know why you should look +amazed. You must know that she would not +think of you, if she knew all; and that you cannot +make her life happy, if you could persuade +her that you love her now. Do not crush another +heart.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>James was, of course, quite sure that he loved +Miss Lee, and pretty confident that he could attach +her, and absolutely certain that they should +make one another perfectly happy. He should +go now, and learn whether her departure could by +no stratagem be deferred till he could accompany +her; if not, he should fly after her the very hour +that sentence should be pronounced on Taplin.</p> + +<p class='c001'>He returned in two hours, very much out of +humour. The Lees were going the next morning. +He should hasten to Brighton, or somewhere, +till the spring; any where (after Fellbrow) except +London. He hated London at this time of +year almost as much as in the autumn. He +should speak to Riley about getting so much of +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.137'>137</span>the new house ready as should fit it for the residence +of a curate. It might as well go on so +far, now it was begun; but he could not think +what had possessed him to begin building in +such a place.</p> + +<h3 id='ch1.8' class='c012'><span class='sc'>Chapter VIII.</span> <br> <br> CHARACTERISTICS.</h3> + +<p class='c017'>Sarah seemed quite disposed to allow Morse’s +plea that a long courtship was not so suitable to +his years as it might have been to those of his +poor boy. She left him the choice of the day, +and called on her sister to assist her in speeding +the necessary preparations. Anne humbly obeyed +all directions. She might wonder,—she was indeed +lost in wonder, at all she heard and saw; but +Anne was by this time persuaded that she was +very stupid in comparison with Sarah, and that +she had been very wicked in envying Sarah a +happiness which Sarah had parted with so much +more easily,—with so much a better grace than +Anne herself could have done. She was angry +with herself, too, for not respecting and liking +good Mr. Morse as she had done. The more +love-letters Sarah threw into her lap to be read, +the more presents Mr. Morse brought for Sarah, +and the more carefully he spread them out to be +admired, the less did she like him; and she could +not sit quiet, like Sarah, under his jokes and +pretty speeches, while she remembered things +that Mr. Cranston had said. She wished Sarah +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.138'>138</span>would not laugh when people said it would be +Anne’s turn next, and when they talked about the +new tax-collector,—of his honesty and civility, +and his wish to be comfortably settled;—as if +that was any business of hers. She had seen +enough of love and marriage. She was not very +fond of the bustle there always was about the +Paddock, and she should find living there very +forlorn when Sarah would be half a mile off; +but she would be content with her lot; and she +now knew how to deal with any Mr. Cranstons +that might come in her way.</p> + +<p class='c001'>When the wedding-party had encountered a +good many acquaintances who had accidentally +happened to take their walk, on the bridal morning, +past the gamekeeper’s cottage and towards the +church—when they had slipped past Mrs. Barton +at the moment when she was relieving Maynard +from the charge of the spaniel, and had received +Mr. Pritchard’s smiling bow, and heard his promise +to drink their healths after dinner, they fell +in, at a cross path, with James himself, who was +riding to the church in company with his curate, +to whom he introduced the bridal party.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I should have said,” observed James, walking +his horse by Anne’s side,“that—You remember +that you were the first I became acquainted with,—when +your sister rode down the lane, and left +you with me;—you remember?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Yes, sir, I remember.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Well, I should have said then that you were +likely to be the first to be seen at the altar. I am +sure it must be your own fault that you are not. I +cannot think what you are to do without your sister.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_1.139'>139</span>Anne was vexed that tears would spring.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ah! It will be sadly lonely. I am quite +sorry for you. You shall have a dog to keep you +company. No better company than a dog, when +one is melancholy! You shall have a spaniel as +pretty as my sister’s; and I dare say you will take +better care of it than your sister did of hers. I +will bring it myself in a day or two.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Anne said she should be busier than ever after +her sister’s departure, and should have no time +for dogs or visiters. She showed no regret when +he talked of going away; no pleasure at his +doubt whether he might not be induced to stay. +She looked up, as for an explanation, when he +sighed about misunderstanding and precipitation, +and the blindness of some people to their own +attractions. How Anne wished, at that moment, +that Sarah had ever happened to look full in the +face of her late admirer, and seen how he could +be confused by such silent questioning!</p> + +<p class='c001'>James put as little sanctity into the service +as could be desired by the strongest foe to hypocrisy, +or lamented by his astonished curate. Why +Morse should be so proud as he was of being +married by anybody who could marry him in +such a manner as this, was more than a stranger +could comprehend. In the midst, the cry of +hounds was heard. The clergyman stopped a +moment, and went on uneasily. Another cry +followed, and he halted again. Morse made bold +to step forward and whisper.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“If there had been no other clergyman here, +I don’t know that I should have offered such a +thing as to put our affair off till to-morrow; but +<span class='pageno' id='Page_1.140'>140</span>perhaps that gentleman——I think it is a pity, +sir, you should lose the hunt, sir, on our account; +that’s all. But you are the best judge, sir.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>In another minute, James had leaped upon his +horse at the church-door, and his curate had taken +his place at the altar,—so discomposed as to find +it difficult to proceed as if nothing had happened. +When all was done, Sarah was still pale +with the sense of insult, while her husband was +congratulating himself on his own good-breeding +in not standing in the way of his young master’s +pleasure.</p> + +<p class='c001'>This was the last marriage service attempted +by James, except in the instances of gay friends, +who liked to be helped through the ceremony by +one resembling themselves. He was better +known, as a clergyman, in the newspapers than +in any other way. Mrs. Barton now and then +read a paragraph to Miss Biggs which showed +that “our young clergyman” was still in existence, +and still a clergyman; and Mr. Pritchard’s +guests were on such occasions enlightened as to +James’s connexions, and the family estate, and +the tenure of the living in the vicinity. But thus +alone was James heard and spoken of among the +neighbours of those who would have been happy +to forget that they had ever seen him. He never +gave his curate any trouble about the living, or +cared about Fellbrow when better sporting was +to be had elsewhere.</p> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> + <div class='nf-center'> + <div>THE END.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> + <div class='nf-center'> + <div><span class='small'>London: Printed by <span class='sc'>William Clowes</span>, Duke-street, Lambeth.</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='pbb'> + <hr class='pb c000'> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> + <div class='nf-center'> + <div><a id='work2'></a><span class='large'>ILLUSTRATIONS</span></div> + <div class='c000'><span class='small'>OF</span></div> + <div class='c000'><em class='gesperrt'><span class='xlarge'>TAXATION.</span></em></div> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class='c018'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> + <div class='nf-center'> + <div>No. II.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c019'>THE <br> <br> TENTH HAYCOCK.</h2> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c006'> + <div><span class="blackletter">A Tale.</span></div> + <div class='c000'><span class='small'>BY</span></div> + <div class='c000'><span class='large'>HARRIET MARTINEAU.</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class='c020'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c021'> + <div>LONDON:</div> + <div>CHARLES FOX, 67, PATERNOSTER-ROW.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class='c008'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c011'> + <div>1834.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c009'> + <div>LONDON:</div> + <div>Printed by <span class='sc'>William Clowes</span>,</div> + <div><span class='small'>Duke-street, Lambeth.</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c004'> + <div>THE</div> + <div class='c000'><span class='large'>TENTH HAYCOCK.</span></div> + <div class='c000'><span class="blackletter">A Tale.</span></div> + <div class='c000'><span class='small'>BY</span></div> + <div class='c000'><span class='large'>HARRIET MARTINEAU.</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class='c005'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c021'> + <div>LONDON:</div> + <div>CHARLES FOX, 67, PATERNOSTER-ROW.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class='c008'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c011'> + <div>1834.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> + <div class='nf-center'> + <div>CONTENTS.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<table class='table1'> +<colgroup> +<col class='colwidth7'> +<col class='colwidth76'> +<col class='colwidth15'> +</colgroup> + <tr> + <td class='c013'> </td> + <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>Chap.</span></td> + <td class='c015'><span class='sc'>Page</span></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c013'>1.</td> + <td class='c014'>Perambulation</td> + <td class='c015'><a href='#ch2.1'>1</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c013'>2.</td> + <td class='c014'>Interlocutory Decrees</td> + <td class='c015'><a href='#ch2.2'>14</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c013'>3.</td> + <td class='c014'>Intrusion</td> + <td class='c015'><a href='#ch2.3'>31</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c013'>4.</td> + <td class='c014'>Heresy</td> + <td class='c015'><a href='#ch2.4'>55</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c013'>5.</td> + <td class='c014'>Extortion</td> + <td class='c015'><a href='#ch2.5'>68</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c013'>6.</td> + <td class='c014'>Commutation</td> + <td class='c015'><a href='#ch2.6'>88</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c013'>7.</td> + <td class='c014'>Dimission</td> + <td class='c015'><a href='#ch2.7'>112</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c013'>8.</td> + <td class='c014'>Benefit of Clergy</td> + <td class='c015'><a href='#ch2.8'>136</a></td> + </tr> +</table> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c004'> + <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_2.1'>1</span><span class='large'>THE TENTH HAYCOCK.</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class='c005'> + +<h3 id='ch2.1' class='c016'><span class='sc'>Chapter I.</span><br> <br> PERAMBULATION.</h3> + +<p class='c017'>Widow Lambert liked to be told, a very +few years ago, that the Abbey Farm was as +great an ornament to her native district as the +abbey itself could ever have been in the days of +its splendour. She recalled the tales with which +she had been struck in her childhood, before her +sober father forbade her climbing old apple-trees, +and her strict mother ordained the adoption +of the quaker cap, and the handkerchief she had +worn ever since;—tales of the former grandeur +of this religious house, with its eighty monks +and its hundred and ten servants: and it gratified +her maternal pride to be assured that her two +comely sons and their labourers kept the estate in +as flourishing a condition as their predecessors,—the +ecclesiastics and their lay brethren who +were subordinate to them.</p> + +<p class='c001'>This abbey was believed to have held a distinguished +rank among the religious houses +which existed before there was any division of +land into parishes, or when a parish meant the +same as a diocese does now: when every man +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.2'>2</span>paid his ecclesiastical dues to any church he +thought fit, provided he paid them to some; and +when these dues were delivered into the hands of +the bishop, to be divided among the four objects +to which they must be appropriated,—the ease +of the bishop, the aid of the church, the relief of +the poor, and the support of the administering +clergyman. Nor was it afterwards in less repute, +when the dignitaries of the church were +otherwise amply provided for, and the tithes were +appropriated to three objects instead of four. +The monks were of opinion that a very small sum +was sufficient for the maintenance of the officiating +priest; and they were active in gathering in +their dues on the plea of the wants of the poor, +while their train of servants was lengthened, the +beauty of their abbey improved, and their fields +and gardens were made to abound in the means +of luxurious living. By a liberal expenditure of +their peculiar purchase-money, masses and obits, +and sometimes by a sacrifice of solid gold, they +obtained all the advowsons within their reach, +and became patrons of a great many benefices. +It was made worth while to royalty to grant its +license for such appropriation; and the consent +of the bishop was regularly granted in return +for the promise that the service of the church +should be duly cared for. The brethren, therefore, +were enriched from year to year with tithe +and glebe; while, instead of presenting any clerk, +they themselves contributed as much as they +chose to the spiritual aid of the flocks they had +thus gathered into their own ample fold. This +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.3'>3</span>process of appropriation went on very smoothly, +(to the brethren, however it might be to the +people under their charge) till this spiritual corporation +was dissolved by Henry VIII; his bluff +majesty constituting himself parson in their +stead. There was little wonder that he busied +himself about the Faith when he became at once +parson of more than one-third of the parishes of +England. However zealous he might be in his +office, it was too burdensome for any man. The +work of appointing vicars to so many benefices +was more than the king could undertake. He +sold the appropriations,—not always to holy +men, (for he had himself deprived the holy of +the power of bidding high for the property he +had to sell,) but to laymen who transmitted +them to their children, or disposed of them to +other laymen, without any scruple as to thus +alienating the pious contributions of believers to +the church. This alienation was made the more +extensive by a statute of the same monarch +which ordained that the church lands purchased by +laymen should remain exempt from tithes, as if +they still belonged to the ecclesiastics. In this +respect alone did the Abbey Farm of Mrs. Lambert’s +time resemble the abbey domain of the day +of Henry VIII. Instead of the cowled company +whose members issued in state from the +splendid building, to mount their sleek steeds to +go forth and counsel the punctual payment of +their dues, there was now Sir William Hood, the +impropriator of the parish, marking with quick +eye, from the rectory window, the luxuriance of +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.4'>4</span>the abbey fields, and calculating the loss to himself +from their being tithe-free. Instead of the +shaven priest who went down when required to +perform some spiritual service, there was the +gowned student muttering Hebrew in the little +vicarage garden, or allowing himself to be talked +to by his daughter Alice, when she tempted him +abroad among his people. Instead of travellers +of high and low degree craving hospitality at the +portal of the monastery, there was the staid +widow Lambert moving quietly between the +poultry yard and the dairy, while her sons were +training their fruit-trees against the grey unroofed +walls which had once echoed back the +prayers of the devout and the jests of the convivial. +All these things were changed; but the +neighbouring soil still yielded its produce, as formerly, +unquestioned as to the amount of its +tenths.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Very unlike indeed was any thing that passed +in these grounds in monkish times to the preparation +now made by the Lamberts for the reception +of the minister, the churchwardens and +the parishioners on occasion of their annual perambulation +of the parish. The widow, more +neat, if possible, than usual, in her plaited cap, +silk mittens and muslin handkerchief, consulted +with her son Charles as to the sufficiency of the +beer and buns provided for the host of visiters +they were expecting: while Joseph gave another +brush to his broad brim before he went to station +himself at the gate by which the crowd must +enter. The intercourse between the vicar and this +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.5'>5</span>family was not very frequent, and of a somewhat +strange character. He could not help admiring +Mrs. Lambert’s kindliness of spirit as much as +he marvelled at her thrift; while she, distinguished +above all things for good sense, was no +less astonished at the manner in which he passed +his time, and the mode in which he brought up +his little daughter. She was at the same time +drawn towards him by the simplicity of his manners +and the evidence which his whole demeanour +bore to his piety. On Sundays, he woke out of +a reverie on his way to the church, when Mrs. +Lambert passed him and bowed her head with a +cheerful “Good morning to thee;” and on week +days, the young men, however busy, were always +ready to listen to the vicar’s suggestions in any +affair which concerned the interests of their +neighbours. Charles was his favourite of the +two, when he had once learned to distinguish +them; for Charles listened without distraction to +what was said. Joseph wished to do the same; +but he could not conquer his confusion when +Alice looked likely to laugh at his calling her +father Mark Hellyer. He was apt to twist his +sentences, and be thinking how he should avoid +Quaker peculiarities of speech, when Mr. Hellyer +wanted his whole attention; and Charles was +therefore pronounced by the vicar the more promising +young man, and the most like his mother.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Joseph, however, was the first at his post this +morning. When, standing at the gate, he heard +the shouts from a distance, and could distinguish +the tips of the white wands carried by the churchwardens, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.6'>6</span>he took one more survey of his well-brushed +suit, smoothed once more his sleek +beaver, and was ready with a broad smile to +welcome the crowd. The vicar was in the +midst, smiling as broadly as any one, and as +heartily amused as he had ever been by the +choicest Greek epigram. The men and boys +about him were equally diverted by the fulfilment +of their prophecy that the vicar would not know +the bounds of the parish any better this year than +any preceding year. All possible pains had been +taken, from his first entrance upon the vicarage, +to instruct him in the localities which he had a +direct interest in understanding; but he looked +as much astonished as ever when informed that +he must not go along this path, or through that +gate, but must lead the way in traversing this +fallow, and climbing the gap in that hedge. Mr. +Peterson, a neighbour, who took a kind interest +in his affairs, was now on one side of him, and +Byrne, a labourer of the Lamberts, on the other; +and all the little boys in the parish were at their +heels, watching for his reverence’s mistakes, and +daring each other to offer him cowslips from +every field they passed. While in full progress +towards Joseph, Mr. Hellyer was carried off to +the right, to make an unwilling circuit before he +could reach his young friend; and while he was +performing this task, Joseph learned something +of the events of the morning;—how there was +no difficulty to-day about their crossing the rectory +garden, Sir William Hood not being there +to murmur at the ground lying half in one parish +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.7'>7</span>and half in another, and his lessee not having +arrived: how Miss Alice had earnestly wished to +be one of the perambulating party, and had been +pacified under the impossibility only by being +permitted to view the ceremony from the cottage +of her nurse,—Byrne’s wife, who had married +from the vicarage. The young lady had amused +herself with the annual joke of throwing water +upon the perambulators; and it was thought +that her own father had not escaped a sprinkling. +No such greeting had awaited the party as they +passed Miss Fox’s school, where not a window +was opened, and nothing could be seen but the +sudden apparition of a dozen curled heads above +the blinds, and their equally sudden disappearance. +The poor young ladies there were kept in better +order than Miss Alice. Mr. Parker had been +more surly than ever, this morning, about the +churchwardens crossing his hop ground; though +the boys had been sent round by the lane, and +not half a dozen hop poles thrown down. The +vicar’s spirit had been roused, and it was thought +he had made Mr. Parker ashamed of himself. +He might take a lesson from old Mrs. Beverley. +The gentlemen were very sorry that her house +stood on the boundary, so that they had to pass +through her little hall and out at her back gate; +but the poor old lady made light of the disturbance, +and desired her maid to let every body +through that wished to pass, and always had her +glass of gooseberry wine ready for the vicar and +the churchwardens, even when (as was the case +this year), she was too feeble to be brought down +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.8'>8</span>stairs to bid them welcome. She had said nothing +about having lost one of her bantams last year. +It would not have been known, but that the maid +was observed to look very anxiously after the +fowls this morning. The gentlemen were duly +concerned, and had alarmed the maid with promises +of such reparation as she feared would +bring her mistress’s anger upon her for having +betrayed the circumstance. The narrator concluded +with an opinion that Mr. Parker might +also take a lesson from Charles and Joseph Lambert, +who always threw open their gates cheerfully +on these occasions.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“My mother hopes thou wilt rest at the farm,” +said Joseph to the vicar, justifying the compliment +which he had just received, “and any of +thy friends will be welcome also. My brother is +expecting the whole company at the farm.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The whole company poured into the field, appearing +fully disposed to accept the invitation.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“If thou hast no objection,” he presently +added, “I will step to John Byrne’s for thy +daughter, and bring her to our summer house on +the hill. We conceive that the finding the +boundary this year, among the new enclosures, +will be amusing; and I could conduct thy +daughter and Jane Byrne to the summer house, +while our friends here are refreshing themselves +at the farm. Have I thy permission?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Alice? Yes; it is a pity Alice should not be +here. You are very good. I think it is a pity +Alice should not be here.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The obliging Joseph only waited to see his +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.9'>9</span>guest under his brother’s charge, and then set off +for Byrne’s cottage. He knew how fond the +little girl was of this summer house on the hill, +when the dog was silenced and chained up, and +she was at liberty either to gather the wall-flowers +which grew around as profusely as common +grass, or to look abroad over the vast prospect +which was spread out below the high hill +from which this building projected. As two +fields and an extent of down had to be traversed +before the hill could be climbed, no time was to +be lost; and Joseph made all speed: and though +Alice overheated herself with running, and left +Mrs. Byrne to clamber up the ascent as she best +could, she was only just in time to see the crowd +leave the Abbey Farm house. When she had +taken courage to rush past the chained dog, and +was at length leaning out of the middle window, +she said amidst her panting,</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What a little way they have to go now! It +will be all over presently. I wish I had come +here at first.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Joseph pointed out to her that the extent of +the landscape had led her into a mistake. The +church, the vicarage, and Mr. Parker’s hop-ground +were as far apart as usual, though from +this height they appeared to lie close together.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And all this farm of yours looks like a bit of +a garden,” observed Alice; “and there is the +farm house where uncle Jerom lives, and his +little church. They seem to belong to us,—they +lie so near.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_2.10'>10</span>“Dost thou see thy uncle Jerom himself?” +asked Joseph.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Alice looked every where, she thought, and +could not see him;—down the steep white path +which descended from the summer house, past the +sheep-fold to the stile, but no one was there but +Mrs. Byrne, mounting step by step;—along the +grey abbey wall,—but nothing cast a shadow there +in this fine May sunshine, but a ladder placed +against the wall among the fruit-trees:—into the +farm yard,—but if uncle Jerom was one of the +moving group there, she could not distinguish +him. Mrs. Lambert, with her white cap, and the +churchwardens with their wands were alone recognizable. +Somebody was stealing about in +the churchyard, but so feebly, that he must be +thirty years older than uncle Jerom. She saw, +finally, a black dot or two on the green meadow +which stretched far away to the right; but +whether these were horses, cows, or men, she +could defy Joseph to pronounce. She had not +looked every where yet. Mrs. Byrne had by this +time entered; but she was too breathless and +dizzy to supply any effective eyesight. Alice +must try again, assisted by a broad hint from +Joseph. “O, I see, I see! but who would have +thought of looking there?—in that bare field,—all +in confusion with new banks and ditches. +That is uncle Jerom, however; I know by his +leaning backwards upon his stick, with both his +hands behind him. What is he standing there +for, as if he was looking for the stars to come out?”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_2.11'>11</span>“I dare say he is waiting for our friends,—perhaps +to shake hands with thee across the +boundary. The boundary passes along those +new enclosures, as we shall see presently.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“There, Jane,” said Alice to her nurse; “you +are the only person, I do believe, that would not +let me go the rounds. I am sure papa would +have let me go, if you had said nothing about it; +and there is uncle Jerom waiting for me now. I +will go, after all,” she declared, jumping down +from the chair on which she was lolling.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mrs. Byrne believed uncle Jerom would be as +much surprised to see his niece under such circumstances, +as to behold the stars come out which +Alice supposed him to be looking for through +the sunshine. Joseph declared that the whole +ceremony would be over before Alice could reach +the new enclosures.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Thoud’st better stay, and see what thou +canst from this place, if I may advise,” said he. +“It is my opinion that they are going to leave +our farm yard now.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“There they go! how slowly they seem to +move!” cried Alice. “Those boys with the +green boughs are certainly running as fast as +they can go; but they scarcely get on at all. +Though you say I must not go, there is Mrs. +Lambert following them, you see. Look, Jane! +why should not we be walking there as well as +Mrs. Lambert?—O dear! she is turning back. +She only went to see that the gate was shut,—that +those staring calves might not take it into +their heads to go too, I suppose.—No. They +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.12'>12</span>had rather stay with her. Do look how they +rest their heads on her shoulders!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mrs. Byrne was now rested; and she came to +see what was the reason of the shout which +seemed to be prodigious, however faint it was +made by distance. Joseph believed that there +had been some jealousy between this parish and +the next about the tithes being unequal, or something +being wrong about the provision for the +clergyman. He did not well understand the +matter, as he paid no tithes, and did not interfere +in disputes which arose out of them: but he +hoped all jealousies were to be buried in these +new enclosures, and that this must be what the +people were shouting for.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Then, if you do not pay tithes,” said Alice,“But +you will have quantities of hay, I am +sure; and you see you have calves. Why do +not you pay like other people?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Joseph and Mrs. Byrne answered at the same +moment. “My brother and I do not think it +right to pay tithes. The Friends never pay tithes.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“No body that rents the Abbey Farm pays +tithes.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Well: if you do not pay tithes, I suppose +there will be no hay-making for me to do in your +meadows. I am to help to make papa’s haycock +in the rectory field.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Has the vicar any claim upon the rectory field?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Yes; because papa says he is a specially +endowed vicar.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Dost thou know what that means?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“No: I only know that we have had three +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.13'>13</span>dear little chickens from Sir William Hood’s +broods; and papa says we are to make a haycock, +and to have some turnips by and bye, from +the glebe.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And he has some glebe land too, has not +he?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Yes to be sure: you know our field very +well. I have not forgotten what a race you +once gave me there, when you made me run +over the young beans.—How they do shake +hands!—papa and uncle Jerom. Uncle Jerom +is going home with papa to tea, I think. He +steps over the new bank into the field, you see. +I wish I might gather some wall-flowers to carry +home for them.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mrs. Byrne begged Joseph to be Alice’s guardian, +as he knew best how to silence the dog +which would certainly bark, and frighten Alice. +He must be particularly careful not to let her +go too near the edge of the projection on which +the summer-house was built, and where the very +finest of the wall-flowers grew. She, meanwhile, +would watch from the window, and call them if +any thing more was to be seen.—It was not long +before she gave notice that the boys had thrown +their green boughs into a corner of the churchyard, +and that the ceremony seemed to be +finished, as many were dispersing to their homes. +As soon, therefore, as Alice had gathered more +wall-flowers than she could conveniently carry, +she was ready to proceed towards the vicarage, +provided her companions could settle whether +she was to rest on the way at the Abbey Farm, or +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.14'>14</span>at Mrs. Byrne’s cottage. It was certainly the +Lamberts’ turn, as she had been at her nurse’s +already to-day: but Mrs. Byrne had a little +cream-cheese in readiness for the vicarage table, +and she must go home with Alice, for the sake +of carrying this cheese and a bunch of radishes +for the gentlemen’s supper, as they were to sup +together to-night. So Joseph had no more to +do than to see his charge safe down the hill, before +he hastened home to refresh himself with a +draught of the ale that might be left, and to tell +his mother that cream-cheeses were liked at the +vicarage.</p> + +<h3 id='ch2.2' class='c012'><span class='sc'>Chapter II.</span><br> <br>INTERLOCUTORY DECREES.</h3> + +<p class='c017'>Alice did not reach home before she was wanted. +She found her father making tea;—the single +domestic accomplishment in which the most abstracted +student is seldom deficient. Mr. Hellyer +knew his way to the tea-caddy, however he might +lose himself in any other destination; and the +tea made by him was never to be complained of, +however much might be spilled by the way. His +brother seemed to have intuitions equally bright +respecting bread and butter. He could cut up +a loaf with as much speed as he could demolish +a bad argument; and the provision of the tea-table +had half disappeared before Alice entered. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.15'>15</span>A look from her uncle towards the radishes +seemed to ask whether it was necessary that they +should be left for supper. The fact was, that +uncle Jerom had been on one of his literary excursions +this day;—that is, that he had dined on +a crust of bread which he had put in his pocket +in the morning, to be eaten while looking over +some books in the bookseller’s shop at Y, +where he had liberty to go, from time to time, +to keep himself on a level with the age, without +buying any thing. Uncle Jerom rarely bought +any thing; for the sufficient reason that he had +scarcely any money to spend. When he had +paid the low sum required for his board and +lodging in a farm-house, he had just enough left +to purchase a coat every two years, and new +shirts when the old ones would hold together no +longer. Hats were obliged to take their chance; +and a poor chance it was, as any one might see +who happened to meet him in the lanes with the +brown, crooked-brimmed covering which hung +down almost over his eyes. When his engagements +allowed him to sit down to the common +farm-house diet, his heart was strengthened with +solid fat bacon, or bread and milk: but when he +chanced to be elsewhere at meal times, he was +sure to repair before night to his brother, with +desponding views of the prospects of the church, +and of the interests of mankind in general.—Thus +it was to-day; and while the vicar gave half his +mind to investigating whether the water boiled, +Jerom required of the other half to prove that +the spirit of innovation which was spreading +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.16'>16</span>over the land was not threatening to uproot the +very foundations of religion, as incorporated +with the church of England. His spirits were +not cheered by the apparition of Alice, ornamented +with the hat he had left in the hall,—the +very brownest and most misshapen of all that he +had ever exhibited.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Papa, what a pity uncle Jerom’s hat did not +lie in the way when you spilled all that ink, this +morning! I am sure it is browner than the carpet +you spoiled.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The vicar believed that he and his brother +ought both to be thinking about new hats. It +had occurred to him several times lately.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Then you must let me have your old one, +uncle. You cannot want it any more when you +have a new one; and I want one for a scare-crow, +for my radish bed. I shall never get another +so ugly. Let me put it on you. Do be +my scare-crow for a minute?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Jerom put the little girl away, bidding her +pour out his tea, and occupy herself with her +own. He could not spare the hat. The clergy +were fallen on evil days, and had not need give +away any thing till something was done for +them, instead of the little they had being taken +away.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I have reason to complain of the last,” observed +the vicar; “but can you exactly say that +nothing is done for the church? I suppose you +mean, new measures. But this Bounty is something +to you, is not it? You were very eager +for it, I remember.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_2.17'>17</span>“It is Queen Anne that we must thank, if we +must thank any body. But this bounty ought +not to be so called. It is a mere restoration of +the property of the church, which had been +usurped. It is folly to call it a gift.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Still, it is something done for the church, to +take these first fruits and tenths from the rich +clergy and give them to the poorer. It is something +done for you, Jerom.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“My first consideration is the church at large: +and in that view, what is this bounty, after all? +Its operation is slow and inconsiderable. Let it +be managed as well as you will, it will be between +two and three centuries before all the +livings already certified will exceed 50<i>l.</i> a year. +In the meantime, I must come back out of my +grave, if I am ever to have 50<i>l.</i> a year from my +living.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But it will be a great thing to see you settled +in a parsonage house. It will be but a small +one that can be built for 200<i>l.</i>: but I confess I +am concerned for the dignity of the church; and +I agree with you so far as to desire to see every +living with the parsonage house and glebe land +to which it is entitled by common right. I shall +look with pleasure on the building of your little +parsonage, and thank Queen Anne.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You will see no such building in my time, +brother. What am I to do with a parsonage, +when I have not the means of living in it? As +soon as I heard that the lot had fallen upon me, +I requested that the 200<i>l.</i> might be applied in +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.18'>18</span>some better way than building me a house that I +could not afford to live in.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Do you mean to exchange it for tithes, or to +let it be invested in lands? I hope, as you have +objected to the house, that you will accept the +amount in land.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Why? The rules allow me to exchange the +bounty for an equal or greater amount of tithes, +as well as for a different portion of land.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“True: but I cannot make up my mind,—I +have been long trying to make up my mind,—as +to how far any traffic in tithes is agreeable to the +divine law. I am sure, also, that you will be +wise to keep clear of all unnecessary dealings +with so uncertain and vexatious an article as +tithes are now made. This last is only a secondary +consideration; but——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I am not sure of that,” replied Jerom.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“The dignity of the church must be first consulted, +Jerom: and I have a certain repugnance +to any thing like speculation in so sacred a property +as tithes. In my opinion, the worst omen +for the church is this peculiar revenue being in +the hands of any laymen: and I much question +whether the royal act of allowing lay impropriations +be not the cause of the present adversity +of the establishment.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Alice looked up from her cup of tea, on hearing +that tithe property was sacred. She asked, +with a look of mortification,</p> + +<p class='c001'>“May not I play with the tithe lamb Mr. +Parker sent this morning, papa? And he sent +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.19'>19</span>some eggs, too; and I bade Susan make a custard +with them. Must not we eat any custard?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“To be sure, my dear child. Why not?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I thought you said that what was tithe was +sacred, papa.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Well, my dear, that does not prevent its +being used. Do you forget what your Latin +lesson was about, this morning?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“About the bullocks that were offered to Jupiter. +People did eat them, to be sure; and +they were sacred. But those people were not +Christians.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Which only shows, my dear child, that there +are some things which are inherently sacred,—shown +to be so by the light of reason and nature: +and among these are tithes. You will find, +hereafter, that the Phenicians paid tithes. So did +the Egyptians and the Hindoos, as well as the +Greeks and Romans: all which seems to prove +that these nations must have been under one common +guidance as to this institution. This is confirmed +by a reference to the attributes of some of +the heathen deities. Thus Apollo——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, Apollo! The author of light——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Exactly so. Now mark what is conjoined +with his being the source of light. He was emphatically +called the ‘tithe-crowned,’ the ‘taker +of tithes,’ and so on.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Then, papa, I will put some of Mrs. Parker’s +mint and sage and parsley upon your head, +and then you will be like Apollo.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“As the Jews paid tithe in consequence of a +divine revelation,” observed Jerom, “I should be +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.20'>20</span>disposed to doubt whether the tithe system arose +from the light of nature.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Whether we so consider it, or conclude that +it arose from some unrecorded revelation made to +Adam,” returned the vicar, “my doubts remain +as to whether this kind of property may be made +the material of speculation, like any other kind of +property.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But, papa, who took Adam’s tithes? Did +he pay them to Eve, or to the angels? or, perhaps, +to himself? Only, there would not be much +use in that. If every body did so, I don’t know +what would become of <i>us</i>.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I do not speak as from knowledge, child. I +only mention what seems to me the most probable +solution.—But, brother, there is further evidence, +from its wide extension, of this being an +institution of the highest origin, whether natural +or revealed;—evidence which has not yet been +duly improved. Governments have been supported +in a vast majority of countries, by contributions +analogous to our tithes;—contributions +from the produce, not from the rent, of land.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ancient Egypt, for instance. There the +sovereign appropriated the fifth part, I believe, +did not he?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“A fifth, I believe: and the same was the +case under the Mahomedan government in Bengal. +In China, they take our exact proportion, +one-tenth, which is a remarkable coincidence. +Not that they are able to raise one-tenth——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Any more than ourselves.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Any more than ourselves; which extends +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.21'>21</span>the coincidence. In some provinces, a thirtieth +is the utmost that can be levied.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Then I hope the coincidence will extend no +further.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Indeed I don’t know,” sighing: “but my +proportion becomes less every year. Those +Asiatic governments have a power which we +English clergy have not. They can help to +improve the country from which they levy their +tenths, while we can only claim the tithe, without +having any title or power to aid its production. +There is no inducement to a vicar, like +myself, to plan a road, for instance, to some new +market for produce, though my tithe might be +much increased in value thereby. If I were a +prince, on the other hand, I should do this directly, +and profit by it.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And the land also; which seems to point +out that this method of raising funds is better +for a state than for a church, whose ministers can +never have the same power of promoting improvement +with those of a government.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But, papa, does the emperor of China take +his fortune in hay or fruit, like you and Apollo, +not in money? I should think it would be +very easy to cheat him: and what a quantity of +things he must have to stow away! And so +must a clergyman in a very large parish.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Yes,” replied Jerom; “and that is the +reason that tithes are generally paid in money, +in large parishes. The tax would be so in China, +too, I dare say, but that the mandarins like to +have the collecting of it.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_2.22'>22</span>“I think papa had better get a mandarin to +collect his for him, if he finds that people cheat +him, and do not pay him so much as they ought. +Papa, I wish you would make me your mandarin +I should like to go about gathering eggs, +and apples, and all the things that people pay +you.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“The mandarins have a different reason for +liking to make these collections. They can +cheat as well as the people under them. But +yet, collecting under my own eye, as I do, mine +is a hard case;—it is hard that I cannot get my +tenths of the articles which are as much the property +of the church as of the farmer who refuses +me my due.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Mrs. Byrne says, however, that her husband’s +is a hard case. He has all the trouble of +planting and rearing, she says; and ever so +much goes to those who have had none of the +toil and the cost.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Mrs. Byrne shall have a rebuke from me, +my child, if she talks so to you. So long as +she has lived in this house, she must have heard +me say, that the whole of what grows out of the +ground is no more the property of the grower, +than the parsonage is the property of the brick-layer +that builds it. Mr. Parker’s hops never +were all his; and it is quite wrong in him to +murmur about any of them being taken away. +He has a partner. Sir William Hood is his +partner; and yet Mr. Parker repines at every +payment, as if he were obliged to give something +that belonged to himself.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_2.23'>23</span>“I would give something to Sir William Hood +to persuade him to leave off being a partner,” +Alice observed: “for it must be very provoking +to have so much trouble about another person’s +share of hops.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Our first duty is, child, to maintain the +claims of the church; and now that discontent +is spreading, every good minister of the church +will assert his right rather than suit his convenience.—And, +besides, I doubt whether any clergyman +or other tithe-holder, has a right to make +any arrangement which would be objected to by +those who will come after him. The property is +that of the church, not of the individual; and he +must keep it inviolate, for his successor: not +even planning any disposal of it which the +church may not approve a thousand years +hence.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“That was precisely the argument used by +our predecessors,” observed Jerom, “when they +scrupled about paying their first fruits and tenths +to any but the Pope. They feared not only excommunication, +but what the church might say +five hundred years afterwards. But we hear +little now of excommunication, and nobody +wishes to pay to the Pope. Seeing, therefore, +how little can be known of what is to come +after, and that nothing is at present done for the +relief and aid of the church, I should be disposed +to make such agreement as should yield advantage +in our own day, leaving it to Heaven to +protect its own gospel in time to come.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Would you really, then, advise my letting +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.24'>24</span>my tithes to Peterson, as he desires? Is that +what you would say?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Jerom knew nothing of Peterson’s desire to +be the lessee of the vicar’s tithes. He was +thinking now of his own affair,—the application +of the share of Queen Anne’s Bounty which had +fallen to him. He had the power of getting it invested +in the land now in course of enclosure in +his parish. An inducement to such an arrangement +was added in the wish of the landlord of +the Abbey Farm to give Jerom a slice off his new +fields, in lieu of tithe for the remainder. The +Lamberts were taking in these new fields, and +were evidently watching, with some anxiety, +what would be done about the tithe. Being +quakers, they would not countenance this claim +of the church; and it was natural that they +should be desirous of the matter being settled in +a way which should save the necessity of resistance +hereafter on their part, and aggression on +that of the neighbouring clergyman. The matter +remained in Jerom’s choice,—whether he +should seek the consent of the patron and ordinary +to his accepting, for the period of his incumbency, +an addition to his allotment in lieu of +tithe on the Lamberts’ new fields, or levy tithe +upon his quaker neighbours. This was the argument +which his spirit was revolving when +Alice saw him from the summer-house, and +thought he was watching for the stars to come +out, while the sun was yet high.</p> + +<p class='c001'>The vicar looked full of consternation when +he asked his brother whether he really meant to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.25'>25</span>turn farmer. He knew the present law allowed +the clergy to cultivate their allotments; but, in +these evil days, when the holiness of the profession +had suffered in the eyes of the people, no +true church minister would run the risk of +offence, by giving his attention to secular cares.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Very true, Jerom thought, if the church were +duly protected: but, till its humblest ministers +were sufficiently provided for, they must use the +means that God put before them, to obtain +bread. The employment of tilling the ground +was a remarkably innocent and a primitive one, +and there was less disgrace to the church in pursuing +it, than in appearing in such a garb——in +such——</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, yes, your hat is very shabby indeed, +uncle,” observed Alice. “But you would not +object to uncle’s fishing, papa: would you?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Fish, my dear, do not yield tithe of common +right, though, in some places, they are titheable +by custom. Where tithed, it is only a personal +tithe, and must be paid to the church where the +payer attends divine service and receives the sacraments; +and in your uncle’s parish, or mine, +where there is neither sea nor a river where fish +is taken for profit, there is no such tithe due. +We have only ponds near, where fish are kept +for pleasure; and it is agreed, as the law is uncertain +on the point of such preserves of fish, +that no claim for tithe shall be preferred. I have +reason to know——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But I did not mean all this, papa. I asked +you whether you would object to uncle Jerom’s +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.26'>26</span>fishing. I suppose farming is no worse than +fishing, and some of the Apostles were fishermen.—And +you are often busy about other +things besides your preaching, papa, or your +books either. Remember the battle you had with +Mr. Byrne, about the turkey, in the winter. +Mrs. Byrne could scarcely help laughing, though +you and Mr. Byrne seemed likely to pull the +poor thing to pieces between you. O, uncle, you +should have heard the noise, when papa was +talking very loud about the church, and Mr. +Byrne was in a great passion, and the turkey +gobbled as loud as either of them.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Why, brother,” said Jerom, “did not you +know that it was decided in the case of Houghton +and Prince, that turkies are to be ranked among +the things that are <i>feræ natureæ</i>; and consequently +not titheable?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“On the other hand, it was affirmed in the +case of Carleton and Brightwell, that it does not +appear but that turkies are birds as tame as hens, +or other poultry, and must therefore pay tithes; +and this was in the face of the plea that turkies +were not brought from beyond sea before the +time of Queen Elizabeth. My distinction is between +their being sold and spent in the house. +However, I am willing to acknowledge that it +would satisfy me well to place this part of my +duty in the hands of a lessee, if I could be +thoroughly persuaded that I should not thereby +betray my responsibility and the dignity of the +church.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Jerom thought that if turkies must be wrestled +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.27'>27</span>for, it was more for the dignity of the church +that it should be done by Peterson than by the +vicar. He was by no means bent on farming +his own land. He was rather disposed to let it. +If the vicar would also let his tithes, he believed +that both might be easy in conscience as to the +guardianship of their trust.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Moreover,” observed the vicar, “it will be +in some sort an advantage to the church that +Peterson should have the collecting of its dues +in this parish, inasmuch as, with all my endeavours, +I am compelled to forego many claims +which I know to be just; and for another reason +which I will presently relate. As to foregoing +my claims,—I am well assured that I do not recover +more than two-thirds of that to which I +have a just claim; and I thus become guilty under +the article of the ecclesiastical constitution which +declares that those who, from the fear of man, +shall not demand their whole tithe with effect, +shall be liable to pay a fine to the archdeacon for +disobedience.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“If that article were put in force, how many +of our brethren would be proved liable! On the +average, they are thought to forego forty, and +some say fifty per cent. of their dues.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“God knows I have laboured diligently to +avoid this sin! No pastor has brought more +actions for an equal amount: and I have written +to the justices so often that they begin, I fear, to +be weary of my informations. But what can I +do else for the ease of my conscience? The +distraint and sale of Stratten’s goods last year +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.28'>28</span>caused me to lie awake a whole night from +concern for the recusant; and I believe I could +not have gone through with the affair but for the +fear of being myself disobedient to the law of the +church.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I saw little Mary Stratten to-day, sitting at +the workhouse gate as you went by,” observed +Alice. “She is not nearly so puny now,—since +they all went into the workhouse,—as she was +when you brought her in to be warmed and have +a bit of bread that day in the winter. But, papa, +Mr. Peterson will not prevent my making your +hay, will he? You know you promised that I +might make up your haycock in the rectory-field: +and I told Joseph Lambert so, this afternoon.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“It will be Mr. Peterson’s haycock, my child: +but he will allow you to make sport with the hay-makers, +I do not doubt. And this reminds me, +brother, of my other reason for allowing Peterson +to become my lessee. I may thereby avoid all +intercourse (unless on purely spiritual matters) +with the person who is about to inhabit the +rectory.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ah! I heard that Sir William had let the +rectory to a gentleman for two or three years; +and I hoped he might be a prop to the church in +this neighbourhood.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“So far from it, that I must be incessantly +vigilant lest he should poison the streams at +which our flocks must drink.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Poison!” exclaimed Alice. “O, papa! is +Mr. Mackintosh a bad man?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Go, my dear child, and occupy yourself in +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.29'>29</span>something pleasant till we send for you,” said +the vicar.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Papa, uncle Jerom has not done eating yet: +and you know if you once send me away, you +will forget to send for me again. You always +do.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The vicar, however, did not choose that his +little daughter should have her mind contaminated +by any ideas about infidelity, and uncle Jerom +therefore resolutely pushed from him the last remains +of the loaf, and Alice withdrew, full of +curiosity about poisoning, and the dreadful thing, +whatever it was, that was the matter with Mr. +Mackintosh. She chose to employ herself in +watering the flower-bed below the parlour window,—not +for the purpose of overhearing, which was +out of the question,—but that her father might, +by seeing her, be reminded, in the midst of his +affection for mother-church, that he had a daughter. +She could not give up her privilege of being +called ‘dear child,’ the last thing before she +went to bed. She saw that papa and uncle had +drawn their chairs close together, and that they +looked very much like people talking secrets. +And so they were.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What! absolutely deistical? Well; such +an open boast is better than concealed infidelity. +Will have nothing to say to a clergyman? Then +we are saved the trouble of declining his acquaintance. +But how came Sir William to let his house +to such a man? Living upon the church, as Sir +William does, he might refrain from setting her +interests at defiance by showing any countenance +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.30'>30</span>to such a man. You will begin a course on the +Evidences directly, I suppose.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Immediately; though my custom has been +to deliver them in the winter. But, Jerom;—your +hat. It is not becoming that such a hat +should be seen within the precincts of your +church; and I would not give occasion of scandal +to this unbeliever. I am afraid, Jerom, that +you have no money.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Jerom threw down two half-crowns,—the whole +of his present wealth. The vicar shook his head, +and drew out of an unlocked drawer his canvas +money-bag. It was not very rich; but he concluded +that it should furnish Jerom and himself +with new hats, and that the supply of their +further wants should be left to the evolution of +circumstances.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And now, about the purchase of them,” said +the vicar. “One of us may as well put the vicarial +office upon the other: for it is disagreeable +to buy a hat; and no more awkward to buy +two than one.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But our heads are not of the same size,” +objected Jerom. “If it were not for the +shabbiness of my own hat, I should propose that +we should go together to the hatter’s, the next +time I am called by the new literature to Y——. +As it is, I propose that you should make the adventure +first; and then I will borrow your hat +for the occasion, and follow your example.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>It was finally settled thus; and that Jerom +should accept an allotment in the new inclosures, +to be cultivated by a tenant, while the vicar was +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.31'>31</span>to let his dues, consisting of his endowment of +hay, and of his small tithes, to Peterson; it being +kept a secret from his parishioners that Peterson +had anything to do with the tithes but to collect +them. The vicar feared lest the bargain being +known should lessen the little respect there was +among the people for the claims of the church. +All this had long been settled, and the brothers +were deeply engaged in an argument upon a +point of ecclesiastical history, when Alice tapped +at the window, and asked disconsolately if she +might not come in, because she had left her doll’s +right shoe under the parlour table, and she could +find nothing more to do in the garden. Susan +said she would drown the flowers if she went on +watering them any longer. And, besides, it was +almost time now for the cream cheese: they had +been so long, Susan said, over their tea.—Leave +granted.</p> + +<h3 id='ch2.3' class='c012'><span class='sc'>Chapter III.</span><br> <br>INTRUSION.</h3> + +<p class='c017'>Mr. Mackintosh came and took possession of +the rectory at Midsummer. He was a single +gentleman, everybody was surprised to find. +Nothing was heard of either mother or sister who +might make his home comfortable; and why such +a handsome gentleman, rich enough, it was supposed, +and certainly not past middle age, should +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.32'>32</span>be still single, was more than could be comprehended +by the people of the parish. His housekeeper +was questioned; but the housekeeper knew +nothing of the how and the why. She could +only tell that her master was sometimes low-spirited, +and apt to find fault with people; and +that he was so fond of his books and of business +that he did not seem to have time for the society +of ladies. She had never heard anything of his +being engaged to be married; and, for her own +part, she could not believe that it was so at present; +for her master seemed to be as anxious +about matters within his little domain as if he +had nothing to look to beyond.</p> + +<p class='c001'>It was indeed true that he looked into his business +with a keen eye;—with the keen eye of one who +wants occupation, and therefore vehemently takes +up whatever comes before him. He was the +owner of the Abbey Farm, and of another in the +neighbourhood,—the Quarry Wood farm,—which +was now out of lease; and there were no +bounds to the diligence with which he walked +over both, from day to day, in order to investigate +the condition of every part in every conceivable +respect. Both the Lamberts were sure +to tell, every day at their early dinner, that they +had met their landlord in two opposite directions, +while their mother had nearly as often to mention +the variety of questions she had been requested +to answer, and the odd kind of chat she had had +with friend Mackintosh. He was incessantly +visiting the cottage at Quarry Wood, to know if +any one had called to view the vacant farm; and +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.33'>33</span>his housekeeper believed he knew almost every +blade of grass in the rectory garden, and was +sorry he did not rent the glebe as well as the +dwelling, as it would have afforded him something +more to do. He was no favourite with the +neighbours; for his manners were haughty and +careless. Byrne was the only person known to +take heartily to him: but Byrne seemed on such +friendly terms with him that there must certainly +be something kindly in him; for Byrne was not +apt to attach himself easily. He had actually +left his work at the Abbey Farm, several times, in +order to serve Mr. Mackintosh. When tried by +the common and best test of kindliness, Mr. +Mackintosh, however, was found wanting. He +was not always kind to children; as Alice could +testify.</p> + +<p class='c001'>She ran in, one day, at her nurse’s, in tears,—in +a passion of mingled anger and woe. She +had been watching, this fortnight, for the symptoms +of an intention to cut the grass at the rectory. +She had looked through the garden paling, +every day, and had seen the grass growing longer +and longer on the lawn, till the wind waved it as +if it had been ripening corn. Papa had promised +for a whole year, that she should make his haycock; +and Susan had given her a hay-rake, just +tall enough for her, on her last birth-day. Mrs. +Byrne herself had told her on Tuesday, that the +grass was to be cut this day, if the weather +should be fine. Alice had jumped out of bed an +hour before Susan called her, to see how bright +the sun was shining; and now, after all, Mr. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.34'>34</span>Mackintosh would not admit her to make hay +because she was the vicar’s daughter.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“My dear, that cannot be the reason. There +has been no time yet for Mr. Mackintosh to +quarrel with your papa. I dare say he does not +like to have little girls running about his grass +plat; though I see no great harm that you could +do him and his grass.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But he said himself that it was because I +was the vicar’s daughter; and that he would have +nobody belonging to a clergyman go near him.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Well, that does agree with his saying that +he would not let the Quarry Farm to any religious +people; superstitious people, as he calls +them.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I don’t think I am very religious. He might +as well let me go in and make hay,” murmured +Alice, relapsing into tears.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Come and look at my bees,” said Mrs. +Byrne. “You should see how they have got +on with the comb since you were here. Since +we laid out the bed for the thyme——Take care, +my dear; you will upset the milk. There! there +goes your hat into it! Dear! dear! how came +you not to see the milk pail?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>While she plunged the straw bonnet in water, +to get rid of the milk in which it had already +been dipped, Alice asked how the milk pail happened +to stand there, full in the sun, where the +milk would be sure to turn sour before night. +How could she help stumbling over it?</p> + +<p class='c001'>And she was about to remove it into a better +place; but Mrs. Byrne stopped her. Byrne +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.35'>35</span>would be angry if it was moved. She had promised +that it should stand in that place and nowhere +else. If Alice’s bonnet should be quite +spoiled, Byrne and Mr. Peterson must settle it +between them which should buy her another, for +Mrs. Byrne could not take upon herself to say +which was answerable for the milk standing there. +It did seem a sin and a shame that the milk +should be turning sour there, when the neighbours +she usually supplied were doing without.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Then why do not you let them have it?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“It is tithe milk. As we do not make cheese, +Mr. Peterson will have us set by every tenth +milking for your papa’s tithe. There is a dispute +between him and my husband as to which ought +to carry the milk. Mr. Peterson says that my +husband is bound to carry it, either to the vicarage +or to the church porch; and I would have taken +it myself to the church porch, to save quarrelling, +but my husband stopped me. He is sure that he +has the law on his side in making the tithe-taker +send his own pails for the milk; and so here it +stands spoiling. I make the less stir about it +that Mr. Peterson now collects the tithes instead +of the vicar himself.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Alice was immediately bent on going to tell +Mr. Peterson that he had better send for the +milk; or, perhaps, authorize her to carry it. +This was exactly such an enterprise as suited +Alice. She seized every opportunity of following +a swarm of bees, or of driving pigs, or of +helping to push sheep into the water before +shearing. She had never recovered the prohibition +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.36'>36</span>to go the bounds of the parish; and had a +secret plan to do it by herself some day, to show +that she could. Mrs. Beverley would let her +through her house, she was sure; and Joseph +Lambert was too good-tempered to quarrel with +her for climbing his hedge. Meantime, it would +be good entertainment, in a small way, to haul a +full milk-pail half through the parish, without +spilling a drop; and she could sit down in the +church porch to grow cool when the task was +done.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mrs. Byrne would not allow this; that was the +worst of it. Alice grew cross. Nobody would +let her do as she liked this day. She would not +now look at the bees; nor gather herself a nosegay; +nor try whether she could not find green +peas enough ripe to make a little dish for her +papa’s supper; nor dust Mrs. Byrne’s prized +collection of shells and birds’ eggs. Nothing +would she do but go down again to the rectory +garden, and peep through the palings to watch +the mowing, and the process of tedding the grass, +the delicious process which she must not aid. +Mrs. Byrne foresaw that the smell of the hay +would be a provocative to melancholy, and sighed +when she found all her blandishments in vain, +and that the wilful girl would have her way.</p> + +<p class='c001'>She was still looking grave over the kneading +of the dumpling for her husband’s dinner, when +Alice came back, seeming much disposed to fly +but for the care she was taking of something in +her frock, which was turned up round her, and +made the depôt of something very precious. The +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.37'>37</span>hay-making seemed all forgotten, with every +other grief, and Alice was trembling with pleasure.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“The milk-pail! the milk-pail, my dear,” +cried Mrs. Byrne. “Bless me! how nearly +you were in again, you giddy thing! What can +you have got in your lap? What a lot of eggs! +Partridge’s eggs! What a number!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, they will get cold, if you don’t make +haste,” cried Alice. “I came as quick as ever +I could without breaking them. Mr. Byrne says +they will be hatched, if you put them near the +fire before they have grown cold.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I did not think he would have ventured to +take them from under the hen. I wonder what +Mr. Mackintosh will say if he finds it out,” observed +Mrs. Byrne, bustling about to seek a +shallow basket, which, lined with a flannel petticoat, +and placed near the fire, might serve as a +warm nest for the fourteen eggs.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“The poor hen partridge is dead,” said Alice. +“She was sitting on the eggs when Mr. Byrne cut +off her head, poor thing, with his scythe. He +saw me through the pales, and gave me the eggs, +and bade me come to you with them; but before +I left, the cock partridge came home; and there +he is walking about, poor fellow, in the middle +of the grass, just as if he was too unhappy to be +afraid of any body. But when do you think these +eggs will be hatched?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Very soon, if at all, Mrs. Byrne thought. She +advised Alice to stay here and watch, instead of +going down to the rectory any more to-day. It +was not likely that more partridges’ eggs would +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.38'>38</span>be found; and she had remembered since Alice +left her—(she was sorry she had forgotten it before)—that +she might make hay, after a manner, +in this garden, though she did not pretend +that it could compare with the rectory garden.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You see, however, that it is very well I went,” +said Alice, with a superior air. “Now I should +like to stay and watch the eggs. Papa will not +mind about my going home to dinner, just to-day.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mrs. Byrne forthwith made another dumpling, +and Alice stood, growing hotter every moment, +close by the fire, peeping in between the folds of +the flannel, in the incessant expectation of seeing +a tiny bird’s head pop up. Mrs. Byrne soon +perceived that she would at this rate totally exhaust +herself before anything could come to pass, +and opened up again her proposition about hay-making +in the garden. The grass borders were +somewhat overgrown, and there was a little plat,—a +very small one, to be sure,—behind the cottage, +where Mrs. Byrne hung out the linen to +dry. From this plat a good deal of grass might +be cut with Byrne’s shears; if they could be +found; and Alice could be called in the first moment +that a bird was hatched. It would be a fine +thing to show people that Alice could make hay +in other places besides the rectory garden.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Alice looked at the borders, and thought it +would be a prodigious condescension. The sight +of the rusty shears, however, subdued her pride; +and as soon as Mrs. Byrne’s coarsest blue apron +could be tied over the young lady’s frock, she +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.39'>39</span>was down on her knees, clipping and hacking at +the dry grass, and severing as much as a handful +in a quarter of an hour. She actually forgot her +new property of eggs till Byrne came home to +dinner, and startled her with his gruff voice, while +she was trying to clip a bunch which was too +obstinate for her shears. She looked up, vexed +at being interrupted, but sufficiently exhausted to +be in need of her dinner; and no vexation could +withstand the news that three little partridges +were huddling together and tumbling over one +another in the basket.</p> + +<p class='c001'>No vexation of hers could withstand this news. +Byrne’s was too highly wrought to be conquered +so easily. He came home in a most terrible +temper indeed. His wife was aghast when she heard +how he abused Peterson, the church, and even +the vicar himself, before Alice. Peterson had come +down to the rectory to demand tithe of the mown +grass, which Mr. Mackintosh had contemptuously +refused, on the ground of there being no claim. +Mr. Mackintosh had said that while the church +had taken care that every other party should pay +to the church, it had also taken care of itself, +and had decreed that the church should not pay +to the church. The parson might not pay to the +vicar, or the vicar to the parson. Much as he +hated the church, therefore, he was now sheltered +under its wings; and not a blade of rectory grass +should the vicar touch.—Well; what answer did +Peterson make? Why; it was the most provoking +thing in the world; he had his law-book in +his pocket, (as he seemed always to have,) and he +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.40'>40</span>showed that in the case of a vicar being specially +endowed, (as Mr. Hellyer was,) small tithes, and +even hay, might be levied upon the impropriator’s +ground, as well as other people’s. Mr. Mackintosh +said some very sound, good things, Byrne +thought, when he found he really was liable. He +said he thought it would be no more than fair to +leave people to choose whether they would have +a religion or not; and that they might as well +demand from him his meat and drink to maintain +Punch in a puppet-show——</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mrs. Byrne stopped her husband by throwing +a bit of partridge’s egg-shell at him to make him +look up, just when Alice’s eyes began to open +wide with expectation of what it was that was to +be likened to Punch in a puppet-show. It was +grief enough to Mrs. Byrne that her husband +should snatch up Mr. Mackintosh’s revolting sayings +about religion; she would not have this child +exposed to the evil under her roof; and so she +had told her husband. He went on muttering, +while he tore his dumpling to pieces, that he did +not believe Mr. Mackintosh would allow the grass +to be carried away; and, for his part, he hoped he +would not. It was time somebody was beginning +to resist encroachment, or there was no saying +what pass the parish would come to. He had +seen, and so had his father, how the burden of +tithes grew and grew; but it was not till he told +the facts to Mr. Mackintosh, and Mr. Mackintosh +explained them, that Byrne knew the reason +why the burden must always go on to increase, +unless the church should——</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_2.41'>41</span>Here he was again stopped. His wife wondered +whether Mr. Mackintosh could explain why tithes +were only half the amount in the next parish. If +the soil was really equally good in the two parishes, +it was very odd that wheat land should +yield twelve shillings per acre of tithe here, and +only six shillings in the next parish.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I have known a worse case than that; where +fourteen shillings were paid for an acre on one +side a hedge, and five and sixpence for an acre +on the other side, of precisely the same quality of +soil. But, bad as it is to have to depend on parsons’ +tempers, and such accidents, it is not so bad +as seeing the tithe go on growing and growing, and +knowing that it will never stop, unless such men as +Mr. Mackintosh put a short stop to it. Ah! you +look frightened; but you had better look frightened +at the tithes than at any thing that I say about Mr. +Mackintosh. In my father’s time and mine, I’ll +tell you what has happened. Rent is higher, as you +know only too well from every farmer you meet. +The rise of tithe helps rent to rise; and the tithes +have trebled while rent has risen one-fourth. +Rent has risen fast enough; but tithes have +risen twelve times as much.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mrs. Byrne thought this must be a mistake; +because if matters went on at this rate, there +must come an end of tithe, and tillage, and all.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And so there will, if tithe goes on. Tithes +are higher than the rent now, in some spots hereabouts, +where hops and other expensive articles +are grown. And the reason why it must be so is so +plain, that Mr. Mackintosh does not believe but +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.42'>42</span>that those who made tithe foresaw all that is coming +to pass. The tithe is part of the crop, which +cost a vast deal of toil and expense to raise; and +as the toil and expense of raising a crop increase, +the tithe must become a larger and larger share +of the profit. Don’t you see?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“To be sure, the more it costs to grow a bushel +of corn, the dearer the corn will be, and the more +value there will be in the tenth part. But if the +tithe makes corn and other things dearer, and +their being dearer raises the value of the tithe +again, there can be nothing but ruin before us.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Except to the church, which is to fatten on +our starvation, Mr. Mackintosh says.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But this makes a fine profit for the Lamberts, +and those who pay no tithe, and yet sell their corn +as dear as other people.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“To be sure it is; for every farmer, in Wales +or Scotland, or wherever else in the kingdom he +may be, that holds tithe-free land. Where some +are obliged to sell dear, as the tithe-payers are, +those few that could sell cheaper are sure to follow, +as long as there is too little instead of too +much of what they have to sell; and the tithe-free +thus profit at the expense of those who buy +bread and hay. However, we should not talk of +the farmers profiting, except as far as they can +get their burden of tithes lightened during their +lease. The Lamberts pay a fine rent for the Abbey +Farm, in consideration of its being tithe-free; +and if tithes were to be done away by the time +their lease is out, their rent would be lowered to +meet the fall of prices that would take place. So +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.43'>43</span>it is their landlord that gains from their land being +tithe-free, except for the convenience of having +no mischief made in their field, and for the price +of corn rising as tithe rises while their lease runs. +Their rent will be raised again, Mr. Mackintosh +says, if tithing goes on at the present rate in the +parish.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I always think no people look so like prosperous +folks as the Lamberts.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ah! the old man was a thrifty one; and ’tis +said there are no better farmers in the county than +his sons. Sir William will make no difficulty of +letting them keep the Abbey Farm in the family +as long as he and they have to do with lands, as +long as they keep on this side Sticks, as Mr. +Mackintosh says; but I don’t know what he means +exactly.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I do,” said Alice; “Styx is the river where +dead people get across in a boat.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Well; do you believe that, now? I would as +soon believe what your father preaches——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, no, nobody believes about Styx now,” +said Alice. “Mr. Mackintosh only talks as some +people used to talk, hundreds of years ago, because +he does not choose to talk as people talk +now.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Byrne shook his head. His opinion of Mr. +Mackintosh was lowered. It was a pity Mr. +Mackintosh did not speak of something that he +really believed, instead of something that had +been already disbelieved hundreds of years ago.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“How neat Mrs. Lambert looks now! and +how quick she always walks!” said Alice, quitting +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.44'>44</span>her dinner. “I will call her in to see my +birds and the eggs.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>There was no occasion to make haste to call +Mrs. Lambert. She was coming to Byrne’s cottage. +She had a smile for Alice, though she was +evidently in haste to say something.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I wish, friend,” said she to Byrne, “<a id='corr2.44.8'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='that that'>that</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_2.44.8'><ins class='correction'>that</ins></a></span> +thou wouldst make haste down to the rectory. +They want thee there; and thy dinner will keep, +I dare say.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What’s the matter?” cried Byrne, seizing +his hat. “Is that scoundrel Peterson kicking up +a row?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I scarcely know,—being a little dull of apprehension, +compared with thee, as to who is +the scoundrel when people fall out, and whether +there must be one. However, I can tell thee +this;—that there is a great empty waggon, with +five horses in it, at the rectory gate, and Peterson +is making a show of it; and George Mackintosh +stands at his garden pales, trying how provoking +he can look, as it seems to me. The people are +gathering, and the quarrel runs high. If thou +canst bring either to a soft answer, thou wilt do +a good deed. But, Byrne,” (calling after him,) +“I assure thee they are ready enough with the +word scoundrel already. Do not thou help +them.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Alice flew after Byrne. Mrs. Byrne thought +it necessary to follow Alice; and Mrs. Lambert +had been on her way to Mr. Mackintosh on business, +when the gathering of the crowd made her +turn back. She therefore walked down the road +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.45'>45</span>once more, hoping that her landlord would soon +be able to listen to what she had to say.</p> + +<p class='c001'>All was in uproar at the rectory. The garden +gate was laid by itself on a bank in the road. +The heavy waggon was making deep ruts in the +grass plat, which the feet of the five cart-horses +had already torn up. The tithe of grass was +being thrown in, amidst the laughter of the spectators, +any one of whom could have carried it +home in a well-packed wheelbarrow. The housekeeper +was crying at one window, and her master +was standing at another, with his hand in his +bosom, no word on his tongue, but awful threatenings +of the law on his brow. Byrne was +evidently in a fury, though a sign from Mr. +Mackintosh positively forbade his offering any +opposition to Peterson and his team. He struck +his toe into the cut turf, as a bull would have +struck his horns; and like a bull, threw up clods +into the air.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Peterson coolly expounded the law, the whole +time, though none seemed disposed to take note +of it, unless it was the horses, who certainly +strained their muscles more zealously, and struck +their hoofs deeper, and jingled their harness more +emphatically, when he cracked his whip in the +pauses of his lecture.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I have spared you some of the trouble I +might have given, if I had enforced my right,” +said he. “By common right, the tithe grass +may be made into hay upon the spot, and I might +have turned in labourers to work on the ground +for a couple of days. And then, again, I have +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.46'>46</span>not suffered my horses to touch a blade of your +grass, Mr. Mackintosh.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Somebody observed that he would have had to +answer for it in law if he had permitted his horses +so to act.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“By no means,” replied Peterson. “What +does the law say?” (Reading.) “‘And when +he comes with his carts, teams, or other carriages, +to carry away his tithes, he must not suffer his +horses or oxen to eat and depasture the grass +growing in the grounds where the tithes arise; +much less the corn there growing or cut. But,’” +(with emphasis,) “‘if his cattle do in their passage, +against the will of the driver, here and there +snatch some of the grass, this is excusable.’”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Against the will of the driver,” repeated +some. “No thanks to you, Peterson.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“It seems to me that making little laws like +this is quite fit work for the pharisees,” thought +Mrs. Lambert. “The weighty matters of the +law seem to find no room here, any more than +among those that were so busy with their mint, +and anise, and cummin.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Peterson proceeded. “‘If any person do stop +or let the parson, vicar, proprietor, owner, or +other of their deputies, or farmers, to view, take, +and carry away their tithes as above said; he +shall forfeit double value, with costs; to be recovered +in the ecclesiastical court.’ 2 and 3, +Edward VI. c. 13. s. 2. ‘And if the owner of +the soil, after he has duly set forth his tithes,—’”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I wish the devil had taken me before I set +out the tithe, let the law say what it will,” thought +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.47'>47</span>Mr. Mackintosh. “I wish I had bid defiance +to the law and the fellow at the same time.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“‘Will stop up the ways,’” proceeded Peterson, +“‘and not suffer the parson to carry away +his tithes, or to spread, dry, and stack them upon +the land, this is no good setting forth of his +tithes without fraud within the statutes; but the +parson may have an action upon the said statute, +and may recover the treble value; or may have +an action upon the case for such disturbance; or +he may, if he will, break open the gate or fence +which hinders him, and carry away his tithes.’ +Which is what I have been and am doing, Mr. +Mackintosh.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“So I perceive.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Well, sir. What do you say to what I have +just read?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“That you shall hear in court.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You cannot say that I have not, in the words +of my authority, been ‘cautious that he commit no +riot, nor break any gate, rails, lock, or hedges, +more than necessarily he must for his passage.’ +You cannot say so, sir.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I have nothing to say to you,” replied Mr. +Mackintosh, stepping out upon his mangled lawn +from the window. “Whatever I have to say +relates to your principal and to his church.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Take care how you blame my principal, sir,” +said Peterson; concealing, as desired by the +vicar, the fact that these tithes had become his +own property. “My principal, sir, asks no more +than his right: and if he is guilty at all in the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.48'>48</span>eye of the law, it is for requiring much less than +his due.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Well, if your principal chooses to live by +such a right, let him. If he chooses, for the sake +of a mere life interest in such an institution, to +pay his rent of servility and dependence to the +oligarchy, I wish him joy of his contentment in +his holy office. The church is the patrimony of +the oligarchy,—that is, the emoluments of the +church;—and these emoluments purchase support +for the oligarchy. If your principal hopes for +salvation while he is helping his employers to +confirm their own corrupt dominion, for the oppression +of the people, he is even a greater +simpleton than I take him to be. And so you +may tell him, if you happen to understand what +I say.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Everybody present understood that something +was said about the vicar and being a simpleton; +and a smile went round. Byrne had no doubt +that, so much being true, all the rest must be very +fine; and he was vehement in his applause. +Peterson turned round to him, and declared that +he had some business with him which he would +not be long in disclosing. With an air of defiance, +Byrne invited the lessee to come and hear +his opinions on his own premises. Mrs. Byrne +trembled for the consequences of the proposed +visit; and earnestly hoped that it would not take +place till the minds of both parties had cooled. +She would do her utmost with her husband to +convince him of the uselessness of contending +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.49'>49</span>with the law. If Mr. Mackintosh chose to go +into court, that was no reason why a labouring +man should incur such expense and vexation. It +would be far better to pay tithe out of their garden, +which was what Peterson was going to demand, +she supposed, than to run any risk by refusal. +The vicar had always paid her wages +readily when she was a servant in his family, and +she should be sorry to make any difficulty about +paying his dues, now that it was her husband’s +turn to recompense service.</p> + +<p class='c001'>The throng of gazers and mockers naturally +followed the waggon. Byrne and another labourer +began lifting the gate, in order to set it +again upon its hinges; but Mr. Mackintosh desired +that it might lie where it was, till a legal +opinion should have been obtained as to whether +more force had been used than the occasion required, +and than the law could justify. Presently, +no one was left but the gentleman and Mrs. +Lambert, who was not disposed to leave her +business to be propounded on another occasion, +merely because Mr. Mackintosh had lately been in +a passion, and was now out of humour.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I thought thou hadst been wiser,” observed +Mrs. Lambert, in her plain way, “than to cause +thyself all this mischief. It seems to me a pity +to spoil a pretty place in this manner, without +doing any good that I see?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“No good! It is doing good to resist paying +tithe.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I agree with thee there. We Friends think +it not lawful to pay tithes.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_2.50'>50</span>“No; you let the parson come and seize +them. This is a degree better than paying them; +but what good has been done by such a resistance +as that?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I might ask what good has been done by your +resistance. Here is your little lawn spoiled; and +ill-will confirmed between the vicar and his people. +It will not affect thee so much as me, perhaps, +that there has been a scandal to religion, too. +Ah! I see thee smile; and I am far from thinking +that there is religion in taking tithe: but the +man who preaches religion in this parish has +been held up to scorn; and I fear the contempt +may spread to what he preaches. Thou wouldst +not object to this? Well, now, if thou wilt let me +say so, I do wonder that one who talks of liberty +as thou dost, should be so unwilling to allow liberty +of judgment to others.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mr. Mackintosh protested that the one thing +he was always striving after was to emancipate +people’s judgments from the monstrous superstitions, +the incredible follies which they called +faith and religion, and so on. He was for ever +trying to set people’s judgments free.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Rather, to make them think like thee, shouldst +thou not say? There is a contempt in thy way +of speaking of Christians, and others who differ +from thee, which I should be apt to call oppression, +dost thou know? No person hinders thee +from saying what thy own opinions are, and where +other people’s are wrong; and, therefore, what +occasion is there for trying to persuade thy +neighbours that their clergyman must be a bad +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.51'>51</span>man, if he be not a fool. I think thee wrong in +doing this, and I say so when opportunity offers, +though I have no better an opinion than thou of +his clergyman’s gown, and of all the forms which +he mixes up with his public worship.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Then you must let me declare you wrong.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“That such is thy opinion. Certainly. But +I wonder thou art easy in making thyself answerable +for mixing up with Martha Lambert’s follies +some things which are of graver importance;—things +which, true or false, make or mar a great +deal of happiness, and cannot, therefore, be +whiffed away, like trifles, with a joke. Thou +wert free, last Sunday, to go into the fields instead +of the church, and to tell every one that +passed why there should be, as thou thinkest, no +church going: but I do not see that it was more +proper for thee to point at thy neighbours of the +church and the meeting, and say that they differed +only in going to see Punch in a wig and Punch +in a broad-brim, than it would be in the Lamberts +to say that thou desirest the perdition of +mankind because thou dost not worship as they do.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Whoever told you of that speech of mine +should have added what I said besides;—that the +Quakers are the only Christians I respect, on account +of their——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“That is all very well in its way: but I do not +ask for compliments to the Friends, but for justice +to everybody. I could wish to see thee go +to law, (as thy conscience allows it,) rather than +hold up the good vicar to scorn. Thou wilt allow +the suggestion.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_2.52'>52</span>“Ah! you have not that resource. The +Friends do not go to law when they believe +themselves wrongfully tithed.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Their reference is to the divine, not to human +law. Their pleas against tithe are three, which +would avail nothing in a court of law;—that the +interference of civil governments with spiritual +concerns is unauthorized and unholy——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“True, true.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“That the tithe system is a return to the +Levitical law, which can have no place under a +profession of Christianity.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mr. Mackintosh smiled his utter contempt of +both Judaism and Christianity.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And that religion can never be lawfully made +a trade; the rule of the case being the precept, +‘Freely ye have received; freely give.’ If thou +dost not agree in this last, but thinkest, as the +generality do, that the setting forth of spiritual +things deserves hire in the same way as the +teaching of the mathematics, and other things +that belong to the mind, there is the less reason +for thy pronouncing that the vicar must be a bad +man or a simpleton for requiring the maintenance +that the law allows him.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“It is an infamous practice! The oppression +is intolerable. The injustice is what nobody +ought to endure. That we should have the +church of Rome over again at this time of day! +Your favourite vicar may be just such a simpleton +of a priest as one might find in the old Popish +days, in country villages: but what a poor wretch +to set to teach the people!</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_2.53'>53</span>“Suppose, then, we try to mend the law that +displeases us both so much. If the law makes +the vicar do and expect what thou thinkest folly, +a wiser law might enable him to conduct himself +more wisely in thy eyes. My sons will be happy +to conduct thee to affix thy name to a petition of +the Friends against tithes, which is lying for +signature in the next town.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mr. Mackintosh would have a petition of his +own, whenever he signed one for such a purpose. +He would not mix himself up with Christians in +any way. He should petition at once for the +overthrow of all superstition in this country.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And, of course, that thou shouldst be appointed +judge of what is superstition, and what +is not; for I fear thou art not else likely to be +satisfied. Meantime, I fear thou wilt not let the +Quarry Wood farm to superstitious people.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Not unless I were sure that their superstition +did not make them cheats: as superstition generally +does.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Have the Lamberts cheated thee in their +management of the Abbey Farm?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“No. I had rather let your sons have the +Quarry Wood farm than any soft, sneaking tithe-payer. +Every man that is a slave to the church +is an enemy to me.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And all who pay tithes are slaves to the +church. I am sorry for thee, George Mackintosh, +for I think, at this rate, no man has ever +had so many enemies. I presume that thou, as +a scholar, hast as long a list of the tithe-payers +of all the world from the beginning, as the vicar +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.54'>54</span>himself. He would make one believe that the +Friends alone are, as thou sayst, not slaves to +the church, and therefore thy allies.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I offered the Quarry Wood farm at a very +low rent, if I could find a tenant that I approved,” +said Mr. Mackintosh. “Your sons shall have it +at that low rent, in consideration of—of——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Of their opinions on one point happening to +suit thy own. This is the principle by which +thou wouldst secure perfect liberty of thought +and speech. However, I shall be glad if my +sons can come to an agreement with thee in +time to prevent any one from professing himself +an infidel in order to obtain thy farm at a low +rent. It is creditable to the public that thy advertisement +to such persons has not already answered +to thy satisfaction.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Superstition was too strong and too popular +yet for individuals, Mr. M. replied. Most men +had not the courage to put themselves in a position +of defiance, such as he had in this case +offered.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Thou wilt now withdraw thy advertisement,” +urged Mrs. Lambert. “There is no fear of my +sons being taken for any thing but what they +are by those who know them: but I should be +sorry they should be obliged to disclaim in the +public papers any character that thou mightst seem +to fix upon them.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Not only was this promised, as a matter of +course, and an arrangement made for an interview +at the Quarry Wood farm, when all the +terms might be discussed; but Mrs. Lambert +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.55'>55</span>obtained permission to call upon the crying +housekeeper, and the gaping foot-boy, for aid +towards securing the pretty garden from the intrusion +of pigs and other trespassers. Before +sunset, the gate swung once more on its hinges; +and the grass was rolled and rolled again till half +its disasters were repaired. It was as much a +labour of love as teaching in a school, or cooking +broth for a sick neighbour; and when Mrs. +Lambert found she must go home, the foot-boy +ran before her to open the gate; the housekeeper +blessed her; and even Mr. M. sent a message +after her to beg that she would not go till she +had rested herself.</p> + +<h3 id='ch2.4' class='c012'><span class='sc'>Chapter IV.</span><br> <br>HERESY.</h3> + +<p class='c017'>Peterson was not long in performing his promise +or threat of visiting B.’s cottage. Indeed, +he had so much to do now that it was necessary +to fulfil his engagements as they arose, if he +meant to discharge them all. He was not only +the lessee of the vicar’s tithes, which cost him no +small trouble to gather in. He was also the +collector of Sir William Hood’s; and the time +approached for making the usual valuation of the +crops before harvest. Some of the land was, as +has been said, tithe-free. A small portion besides, +which seemed to lie within the verge of the +parish, caused him no trouble. It had never +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.56'>56</span>been included, with certainty, within the bounds +of any parish; and the tithe thereof, being extraparochial, +was the prerogative of the king, with +whom Peterson had nothing to do. A composition +had been agreed upon for the tithes of +other lands, for a certain number of years; but +there still remained a large extent of ground on +which the great tithes had either to be compounded +for on a valuation, from year to year, or +where the contribution to the parson was to be +levied in kind. His own property by lease, the +small tithes and hay which he rented from the +vicar, he determined to levy in kind: and his first +step was to study the precise extent to which they +were due, and to levy them to the utmost. Of +the prædial tithes,—those which arise merely +and immediately from the ground, the grain and +wood had to be valued in order to a composition. +The hay, being the vicar’s by special endowment, +had to be levied in kind with the other prædial +tithes which came under the denomination of +small tithes; viz.: fruit, vegetables, and herbs. +He had not only been the round of the hayfields, +but was looking into all the gardens, and casting +a calculating glance over the orchards, in anticipation +of a tenth of their produce. Then the +mixed tithes gave him much trouble; tithes of +produce which arises not immediately from the +ground, but from things immediately nourished +by the ground, and which, according to the +murmuring parishioners, paid tithe twice or three +times over. When they had paid tithe of grass, +they contended, it was hard to have it to pay +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.57'>57</span>again in the shape of a calf, and again in that of +milk. In like manner, the grain on which their +poultry fed paid tithe; and then the poultry; +and also eggs. In like manner, the sheep pasture +paid tithe; and then the tenth lamb must be +given; and lastly, the wool. Endless disputes +arose out of the lessee’s claims, and he was perpetually +sent to his tithe gospel, as he called his +law-book. There he found a provision by which +he might annoy Byrne, and every parishioner in +Byrne’s rank of life. There was another kind of +tithe, besides the prædial and the mixed;—the +personal tithe, which might be made, if possible, +more offensive than the mixed. He knew that +by a claim for this kind of tithe, at least, he could +punish Byrne for his partisanship with Mr. +Mackintosh in the morning.</p> + +<p class='c001'>When he arrived at Byrne’s, both the labourer +and his wife were occupied in helping Alice to +feed her little birds, the twelve young partridges +which bore testimony to the efficacy of flannel +and fire in June. Byrne did not trouble himself +to look up when his foe entered; but observed, +while guiding an infant beak to the mess which +was prepared, that Peterson need not flatter himself +that he would be permitted to carry away any +of Miss Alice’s birds. The little girl’s own father +should not rob her of her pleasures. Peterson +thought it a pity such a defiance should be +wasted; but he really never thought of such a +thing as tithing wild birds. Pheasants and partridges +are decided by law to be <i>feræ naturæ</i>, +and therefore not titheable. Though their wings +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.58'>58</span>be clipped, they would still fly away if they +could; and if they should breed, their young, +though imprisoned, are still wild, and therefore +not bound to support the clergyman. Alice’s +pleasures were safe.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, I am so glad!” cried Alice; “and now +we need not be afraid about the bees either, I +suppose.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ay; your bees, Mrs. Byrne,” observed Peterson, +smiling. “You need not twitch the +young lady’s sleeve, Byrne; I thought of the +bees before; and, in fact, they made part of +my errand. I see you have a fine range of beehives +at the south end of your garden; and that +spreading jessamine, and the thyme bed, and the +tall honeysuckle must yield plenty of wax and +honey. You must keep my share for me, remember.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“If partridges are wild, so are bees, I +should think, Mr. Peterson.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“So the law says: and I am of opinion the +law is therein defective: since, though bees can +fly away individually, they are stationary, as a +swarm, when once fixed in a hive. I should recommend +that every tenth swarm should be set +apart for tithe: but the law does not so ordain. +The wax and honey, however, do not fly away, +and it is of them that I spoke when I said you +must remember the vicar’s share.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“The vicar would have been sure enough of +his share,” said Mrs. Byrne, somewhat heated, +“if you had let me alone to offer it. Miss Alice +will tell you that every year she has had much +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.59'>59</span>more than a tenth of my honey; and so she +would still, without your interfering to make +that a debt which was much more precious as a +grace.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Mr. Peterson shall not bring me my honey,” +protested Alice. “I won’t take it, unless you +let me carry it home myself, Jane.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Peterson wondered what would become of +religion, if it was to be left to be supported by +free will, instead of by dues.</p> + +<p class='c001'>How little was he aware what was included in +this question! How little was he aware with +whom he identified himself while asking it! This +has been the faithless question of all the perverters +of the quenchless religious principle in +man, from the beginning of time,—of all the +priests of all the trinities that the world has +known. This is the question asked by the wise +man of the Egyptian temple, when he unveiled the +hawk-headed Osiris, and the swaddled Orus, and +the crocodile-shaped Typhon, and told the prostrate +people what to pay for housing the triad of +creators that they came to adore.—This is the +question asked by the ancient Hindoo priest, +when he finished his evening meal of rice in the +echoing recesses of the rocky temple, and waited +only for the departure of the last impoverished +worshipper, to go and see how much wealth was +deposited for Brahma, and how much for Vishnu, +and how much for Siva, and how many bribes +were offered for admission into each of the seven +paradises of the seven seas. This is the question +asked before the Greek altars, when goats and +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.60'>60</span>horses and black bulls were sacrificed there, to +the gods of the earth, and the sea, and the infernal +regions, and tithe was demanded to be yielded +to the one on his ivory seat, and another in his +car of sea-shell, and the third on his throne of +sulphur. This is the question asked by the skin-clothed +ministers of the Gothic deities, Odin, +Vile, and Ve, when they called upon their barbarian +brethren to offer the hides of wolves, and +the flesh of boars, in homage to the three sons +of the mysterious cow. This is the question +asked by the Mexican priests of old, when they +forbade the feathered and jewelled warrior companies +to come empty-handed to the sanctuary +of the father-sun, the brother-sun, and the son-sun; +the trinity of unpronounceable names. This +is the question asked by the monastic orders of +the Catholic church, when they ordained, as +penance, that the children’s inheritance should +be made over to the church, to the glory of the +Gnostic triad which they enthroned on the Seven +Hills, and to which they dared to invite adoration +in the name of Christ. This is the question +now asked by our Episcopal preachers of the +three-fold deity, the Avenger, the Propitiator, +and the Sanctifier; and enforced for the support +of their tri-partite form of religion, compounded of +Heathenism, Judaism, and Christianity.—This is +not the question asked by Jesus, when he sent +forth the Seventy, bidding them have faith that +they should be supported by free-will offerings +better than by dues; or when he cleansed the +temple from the defilements which but too +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.61'>61</span>soon returned to harbour there; or when he sat +on the well in Samaria, and declared who it was +that the Father sought to worship him; or when +he strayed in the wilderness, despising the kingdoms +of the world, and the glory of them, and +asking instead, the heart of man; or when he +sat on the mountain-side, gazing on the temple +towers which were bathed in the evening light, +and telling of the time when the young pigeons +should try their first flight from the summit of +Moriah, instead of fluttering in death on the +altar of sacrifice; and when the husbandman +should plough up the foundations of the sanctuary, +finding, through the gospel, that his own +heart was a holier place.—What is included in +this question,—whether religion can be supported +by free will, and not by dues? To ask it +is to doubt whether God has vivified the human +heart with a principle of faith, and whether man +be not really made to grovel with the beasts which +perish, or, as the only alternative, to pursue +shadows till the grave swallows him up like a pitfall +in his path. It is to suppose that by mere +accident alone has the northern barbarian been +found watching for signs in the driving clouds; +and the western Indian looking abroad over the +blue Pacific; and the Persian hailing the sunrise +from the mountain-top; and the Greek lawgiver +waiting upon the voice of the oracle; and +the Christian child praying at the knee of its +parent. It is to question whether there be more +in a sunrise than yellow light, or in a pestilence +than so many dead, or in a political revolution +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.62'>62</span>than a change of actors in an isolated +dramatic scene, or in the advent of a gospel +than the issuing of a new and fugitive fiction. +It is to deny that every man needs sympathy in +his joys, and consolation for his sorrows; that he +ever questions whence he came and whither he +must go; that he ever feels the weight of his +own being too vast to be sustained without reposing +on Him who called it forth. It is to +question whether there be faith on the earth, except +within the pale of two or three churches; +whether, for the rest of the world, the sea does not +raise its everlasting voice, and the starry host +hold on their untiring march in vain. It is to +question whether the decrepid can truly worship +in the aisles of our churches; or the lordly care +for the things of the Spirit, unless those things +are joined with worldly pomp. It is to pronounce +the apostles profane in their fishing and tent-making, +and foolish in their fully-justified reliance +on the faith and charity of their disciples. +It is to declare Jesus wrong in saying that to +the poor the gospel is preached, and that his +kingdom was not of the old world,—belonging +to the formal Judaical dispensation. It is to put +his gospel for correction into the hands of the +prelates who legislate for its security, and +who predict its permanence, if it be sustained by +the means they prescribe,—by gifts and offerings +wrung from the reluctant; by endowments, +by bounties of first-fruits and tenths, by tithes +and oblations. To question whether religion +can be supported by free-will instead of by prescribed +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.63'>63</span>dues is to libel man, to doubt the gospel, +and to stand with a sceptical spirit amidst the +temple of God’s works.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Would that the vicar had had sufficient faith in +the gospel he preached to believe that it might +be supported without exactions which it does +not sanction! Would that he had been wiser +than his tithe-gatherer, and had foreseen the +consequences, as well as been aware of the guilt, +of alienating the spirits which it was his express +office to win! He looked very grave at his little +daughter, when she loudly complained that Peterson +wanted to take away some of Jane’s honey +for him, when she knew he had much rather +that Jane should give it him herself. He told +her that she must not speak of matters that she +did not understand:—a rebuke which astonished +Alice more than all the rest, as she thought she +had never heard of anything more easy to be +understood.</p> + +<p class='c001'>There was little show of respect to the vicar, +this evening. When he entered Byrne’s cottage, +Peterson was traversing the garden, making +notes of potatoes, turnips, and cabbages, of +onions, parsley, and sage. He counted the currant +bushes, and looked up into the cherry-tree. +Mrs. Byrne attended, in terror lest there should +be a quarrel. She tried to persuade her husband +to go and make his bow to the vicar; but Byrne +would do no such thing. He dogged the tithe-gatherer’s +heels, disputing where he could, and +threatening where he could not dispute. He did +not mean to pay tithe these seven years, for the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.64'>64</span>new bit of garden which he had just taken in. +He would contest it to the death. He hoped the +turnips would prove tough enough to choke the +tithe-gatherer. He would not gather his cherries +at all, if he must pay tithe of them. They should +be left for the birds, and for any village children +who might come to take them.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“That is all very fine talk,” replied Peterson: +“but I can tell you this. If your fruit is taken +by the birds, or other downright thieves, I must +bear the loss with you: but if it be taken with +your knowledge and consent, whether by school-children +or anybody else, you must pay me the +tithe of what was taken: and if left to drop +from the tree, I must have the tenth of what so +falls. Pray, are these peas and beans for sale, +or for domestic use?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Byrne could not tell till they were gathered; +and his wife did not pretend to have made up +her mind, any more than he.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Well; if you won’t tell me, I must be on +the watch to see whether your hog touches any +of them, and how many find their way to other +people’s tables. And then, you will have no +right to call me prying, remember. I asked you +the fair question, which you would not answer.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Byrne thought he might as well live under +Bonaparte, or any other tyrant, at once, as be +liable to sow and tend and reap for another, in this +way; and to be watched by a spy, as if this was +not the free country it prided itself on being.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What would you say if you were a farmer?” +cried Peterson, with a smile. “Here you have +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.65'>65</span>only to pay a little honey, and a few vegetables, +and a little fruit, and—one thing more, for which +I find the vicar has strangely omitted to charge +you hitherto. See here,” producing his law-book. +“By a constitution of Archbishop Winchelsea, +and the statute, 2 and 3 Edward VI., +c. 13., tithes are payable for profits arising from +personal labour or merchandise. They are +payable, you see, where the party hears divine +service, and receives the sacraments; but only +the tenth part of the clear gain, after all the +charges are deducted. Now I find your wages +are per week——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Do you dare to want to strip my husband of +his wages?” cried Mrs. Byrne. “I will call the +vicar to put an end to this.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Peterson’s triumph was complete. The vicar +was full of concern that anybody suffered pain +or inconvenience about the matter: but it was +not for him or his parishioners to alter the constitution +of the <a id='corr2.65.21'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='church..'>church.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_2.65.21'><ins class='correction'>church.</ins></a></span> His duty to his church +and to his successor required that the ecclesiastical +law should be obeyed in all its provisions. +Two or three zealous clergymen had lately revived +this claim, after it had lain dormant for +very many years, throwing into gaol the labourers +who opposed themselves; and he would +support them through evil report and good report.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Then you may throw me into gaol,” cried +Byrne. “As for attending your services, neither +I nor mine will ever do it more, Mr. Hellyer: +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.66'>66</span>and I never wish to see you within my +gate again, sir.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, John!” cried the terrified wife.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I am not going to be angry,” said the vicar +to her, with his usual air of quiet complacency. +“I have long feared that the infidel who has +come among us would corrupt your husband, +and I see he has done so completely. Nay: do +not cry so, Jane. All our hearts are in the +hand of God: and you should trust, as I do, +that he will sustain his church under the attacks +of the unbelieving.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Not if such as you have the management of +it,” cried Byrne. “You talk of Mr. Mackintosh: +but I tell you that nothing that I ever +heard him say turned my heart from you and +your religion as you yourself have done to-day; +and I rather think that Mr. Mackintosh owes to +you much of such power as he has. We shall +soon see that. Send the labourers of this parish +to gaol for their tithe of wages, break gates, and +pry into gardens, and you will see what a congregation +Mr. Mackintosh will have on his lawn, +to hear what he has to say about a religion that +teaches such oppression.—Be pleased to hold +your tongue, sir, and walk out of my garden.—Hush, +Jane!” he cried to his weeping wife. +“There is nothing in their tithe-law that prevents +my saying that.—Go, go, and milk the cow.” +And he turned over the pail, which still stood +with milk in it, as in the morning. He declared +that he knew something of tithe-law as well as +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.67'>67</span>Peterson, and therefore claimed the liberty of +spilling the milk which had not been removed, +after due notice, so as to restore the pail in time +for the afternoon milking. Peterson could not +deny the correctness of Byrne’s law.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Well; but, why not come to church?” +mildly inquired the vicar.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“To hear you thank God that you are no extortioner, +I suppose. I am sick enough of that.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But, John,—do listen, John!—He can’t help +it: it is no fault of his: he only asks what the +law gives him.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Then let the law leave off making a man +contradict in the pulpit on Sunday all he has +been doing during the week. ’Tis a hypocrisy +that I am sick of, and I’ll never enter the church +door till there is an end of it. You see the gate, +sir. You are welcome to go away as soon as +you choose.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>There was nothing for the vicar to do but +to walk away, however Mrs. Byrne wished to +detain him till her husband had cooled. Peterson +had found his way over the fence, rather +than cross the path of the angry man. Byrne +saw this, and shouted after the vicar, loud +enough for Peterson to hear,</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You are mightily afraid of a deist, Mr. +Hellyer: but if you care for your church, look +to your tithe-gatherer.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Run after your papa, my dear,” said Mrs. +Byrne to Alice, who was contemplating the +spilled milk: “never mind your birds; I will put +them under a coop till you come again.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_2.68'>68</span>“Papa looks so odd!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“The more reason you should go. Run after +him, and talk about every thing you can think +of.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Alice hopped and skipped down the road, +while Jane wept as if her heart would break. +Her grief could scarcely have been greater if she +had known the truth that time revealed,—that +from this hour, her husband hated the vicar with +an intense hatred.</p> + +<h3 id='ch2.5' class='c012'><span class='sc'>Chapter V.</span><br> <br>EXTORTION.</h3> + +<p class='c017'>Before two years were over, the experiment of +a close exaction of tithes was considered by good +judges to have been fairly tried, and to have produced +consequences as apparent as could be expected +to arise in any given case.</p> + +<p class='c001'>First. There were three law-suits.—The vicar +was plaintiff in a cause where his late friend, Sir +William Hood, was defendant. He claimed +tithe for the produce of a portion of the Abbey +Farm; (or suffered under the imputation of doing +so, from still keeping the secret of having let his +rights to Peterson.)</p> + +<p class='c001'>The Lamberts were not a little astonished at +such a claim being made on their tithe-free farm: +but the vicar alleged that the exemption ceased +when the land was turned to other uses than +those which prevailed when the exemption was +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.69'>69</span>granted. The prescription was at an end, he +contended, when, as in this case, land which was +in a state of tillage when exempted was converted +into pasture land. Much trouble was +given to the Lamberts, at the same time, by +their being called upon to show the requisites for +the exemptions which had never been disputed;—that +the lands they held had been really abbey +lands, and that they had been immemorially discharged +of tithes. Another suit was instituted +against Mr. Parker, to set aside a modus with +which all parties had hitherto been pretty well satisfied. +By this modus,—or composition whereby +the layman is discharged from rendering his +tithes, on his paying in lieu thereof what immemorial +custom, or the custom of the place, directs,—Mr. +Parker paid fourteen pounds for produce +which, paid in kind, would have yielded twenty. He +had often thought himself unlucky in his bargain +in comparison with some who had a good bargain +of their modus, paying two-pence an acre, +as their ancestors had done; or a fowl instead of +the year’s tithe of eggs: but he had little expected +that the vicar would lodge a complaint in +a court of law of the modus being too large. It +accorded with six out of seven of the rules which +constitute a good and sufficient modus; but it +violated one. It was certain and invariable: it +benefited the tithe-taker only: it was different +from the thing compounded for: it did not discharge +from the payment of any other species of +tithe: it was, in its nature, as durable as the +tithes discharged by it: and it was immemorial +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.70'>70</span>without interruption; that is, it had existed from +the beginning of the reign of Richard the First, +which is the period fixed by the law as “the +time of memory.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>All this was indisputable; but the seventh +condition was, that the modus should not be too +large;—that it should not be a rank modus. If +Mr. Parker had been paying four shillings, instead +of fourteen pounds, the modus might have +been held a good one; but this was so doubtful as +to be supposed worth contesting, according to +the decision, “the doctrine of rankness in a +modus is a question of fact to be submitted to a +jury, unless the grossness is obvious.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The third suit was of more consequence than +either of the other two. It had always been believed +in the parish that the glebe land, which was +now annexed to the vicarage, had been once upon +a time offered and accepted as a substitute for +the lesser tithes of a farm at present occupied by +one of the most respectable of the parishioners. +Now, however, for the first time, Mr. Pratt was +called upon, either to show evidence of such a +bargain having taken place under all due formality +of circumstance, or to pay full tithe. Mr. Pratt +was indignant when he ceased to be astonished, +and refused to pay the tithe unless he had the +glebe land back again. This was refused; and +the law, as of course, was made the arbitrator +between the parties.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Every body in the parish who paid a composition, +now began to hunt up the evidence of +the ordinary having consented to it; of its being +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.71'>71</span>old enough; and of its not having run on for a +longer term than twenty-one years, or the lives of +three parsons.</p> + +<p class='c001'>These proceedings did not improve the influence +of the clergyman in the parish. One +after another of his flock wandered away to the +Friends’ Meeting house. There was talk of +encouraging the methodists to build a chapel, +though an attempt to do so had failed three +years before. Subscriptions were withdrawn from +the parochial library which the vicar had set up: +and in proportion as the law-suits were discussed, +did the respect with which he was once regarded +change into rudeness. Few heads were uncovered +before him. Men turned their backs at +his approach, and the women did not look up +from their work when the children gave notice +that he was passing by. He bore this, as he +said, very patiently; praying to God to turn the +hearts of the flock once more to true religion +and reverence for the church. He declared himself +resigned to having fallen on evil days, and +could wait till his parishioners should repent of +their treatment of him. He heroically adhered +to his habits, amidst the change of times; taking +his walk past the houses which were chalked +with maledictions on him, and over the green +where every one put on a solemn look as soon +as he came in sight. Alice could never prevail +on him to go round by the back lanes, though +is was evident that she suffered much pain, if +not absolute terror, whenever she was his companion +amongst his alienated people.</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_2.72'>72</span>Those who suffered most, next to the vicar and +his daughter, were perhaps the Lamberts. +Through the exterior of calmness which they +considered it a religious duty to preserve, it +might be discerned that their lightness of heart +was gone. No lads could well be merrier than +Charles and Joseph used to be; and their mother’s +influence was formerly more frequently +exerted in mildly chastening their mirth than in +any other way. When they had masqueraded, +under pretence of amusing Alice, or from singing +a ‘ditty’ in the farm-house parlour had advanced +to some high thoughts about the cultivation +of music, she had told tales of the sobriety +observed in her young days. Now, her endeavour +was to cheer them when they came in +dispirited from their farm. She now asked for ‘a +ditty,’ and taught them two or three which their +father used to sing to her before they were born. +She encouraged Joseph to use his pretty talent +for drawing, and was always ready to be read to +when Charles seemed disposed to take up his +book in the evenings. It was the least she could +do, she thought, to keep up their spirits as well as +her own, since she had sanctioned their taking +the Quarry Wood farm, which seemed likely to +run away with the gains they had made on the +Abbey Farm; and with more besides, if this season +should turn out one of as great scarcity as was +apprehended. It was the least a mother could +do, while discouraging Charles from marrying +Henrietta Gregg till his prospects should clear, +to make his home as little irksome as possible, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.73'>73</span>and occupy his thoughts with other things besides +his love and his disappointments. Some +people thought (and they declared the vicar to +be on their side) that the ill success of the Lamberts +on the Quarry Wood farm was no more +than might have been expected from their having +any thing to do with such an infidel as Mr. +Mackintosh; and they had little pity, in some +quarters, for their failure: but they thought the +whole might be sufficiently accounted for without +supposing that a special judgment had overtaken +them. Thus much, at least, was true: +that no disasters had befallen them in their +management of the abbey farm, though Mr. +Mackintosh was their landlord; and that the +Quarry Wood farm might have been made to +answer if it had been tithe-free. The natural +conclusion was that the tithes of the church were +to blame, and not the infidelity of Mr. Mackintosh.</p> + +<p class='c001'>The rent of the Quarry Wood farm was low; +and this had been the chief temptation to the +Lamberts to take it. They were aware that it +required much improvement, and were prepared +to lay out a good deal of capital upon it. The +composition for tithe which had been formerly +paid was very moderate, and every body had +supposed that it would, as a matter of course, be +continued. But the new tenants had not been +in possession half a year, before Peterson found +means to set aside the composition, and gave +notice that he should demand tithe in kind. They +hoped that, at least, their improvements would +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.74'>74</span>remain exempt for seven years, according to the +statute:—a vain hope; as it was proved that the +land, though long left in wild condition, was not +what the law would call barren. The tithe seized +the first year swallowed up so much of the returns +as to leave by far too little to pay for the +enclosures. There was, indeed, so much capital +thus locked up that the young men declared they +should have let the land alone if they had known +how they were to be taken in about the tithes. +The same was the case with an extent of woodland +which they had stubbed and grubbed, and +made fit for the plough. As it had borne wood, +it was not ‘barren’ land, and it came under the +tax. Of course, the improvements were put a stop +to presently, amidst many regrets that the money +had not been employed on some far inferior land +on the tithe-free farm. It had better have lain +idle in their iron chest than have been thus expended +to a loss. If they had known more than +they did of the history of tithes, they would have +been better aware of the policy of idleness under +such a system;—that idleness, both of labour +and capital, on which tithes offer a direct premium. +They would have known that the cultivation +of flax and hemp in Ireland was suspended +till a low modus was fixed by law, under which +it has flourished ever since. They would have +known that the production of madder was long +confined to the United Provinces, which, being +Presbyterian, offered no ecclesiastical tax on its +cultivation; and that its growth in England began +from the time when, by a special provision, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.75'>75</span>5<i>s.</i> per acre were to be taken in lieu of tithe of +madder. They would have known that the reason +why Edward VI. exempted barren land from +tithe for seven years was, because, without this +provision, the land would never have yielded at +all, either to the public or to the church. They +would have known how tremendous is the waste, +to the public, to the farmer, to the landlord, and +eventually to the church, by a method of taxation +which causes worse land to be cultivated +while the better lies waste—by a method of taxation +which reaches land untouched by rent, and +which, by absorbing a larger and a larger share +of profits which are perpetually decreasing, raises +prices to a degree quite inconsistent with the +prosperity of all the parties concerned. If the +Lamberts had duly studied the tithe question, +they would have foreseen the disasters which +must arise, instead of being taught by bitter experience. +Their case was just this;—and it is a +fair specimen of what is taking place wherever +the tithe system is adopted.</p> + +<p class='c001'>The best land on their two farms yielded an +equal produce. As the Quarry Wood land paid +tithe, they would have been obliged to raise the +price of their corn so high as to cover the cost of +the impropriator’s share, as well as the expences +of cultivation, if this had not been already done +by the body of tithe-paying corn growers. Corn +was already dearer in the market, by the parson’s +share, than it would have been if the parsons had +had no share. The produce of the abbey farm +brought in a larger profit through this elevation +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.76'>76</span>of prices; but this circumstance had been considered +in fixing the rent; and the surplus profit +went, not to the Lamberts, but to their landlord, +in the shape of higher rent. Thus far, they +neither lost nor gained. The consumers of corn +lost, and Mr. Mackintosh gained. The same +took place on a few inferior kinds of land. But +there was soil which would have paid profits of +stock as well as rent, if there had been no tithe, +but which should have been left uncultivated +(because tithe would swallow up the profits) if +the Lamberts had been aware of the claim which +would be advanced by the parson. On this soil +their labour was lost: landlord and parson being +paid, nothing remained for them. This land, +therefore, was to be let out of cultivation; and +the capital and labour employed upon it were +transferred to an inferior kind of land on the tithe-free +farm, which required a much larger expenditure +to produce an equal return. In this case, +the Lamberts lost by their unprofitable expenditure +of labour and capital; and nobody gained. +A yet lower quality of soil was next taken into +cultivation, requiring a yet larger proportionate +outlay of capital and labour, and yielding a sufficient +return to the cultivator only because it was +exempt from rent as well as tithe. The rise of +price, caused by the relinquishment of the better +land for the sake of cultivating the worse, was +injurious to all the three parties, and particularly +to those—viz., the Lamberts—who had to pay +the most wages. It would have answered incalculably +better to have paid over to the church the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.77'>77</span>capital which was arbitrarily buried in the lower +soils, than that portion of produce which caused +it to be so buried. Rent would have been equalised +between the two estates; prices would have +kept their natural elevation; the better soil would +have been tilled, and the worst let alone; the +parson would have had as much gain and cheaper +bread; the landlord would also have had cheaper +bread, and a larger rent for the one estate, as +well as a smaller for the other; and the Lamberts +would not have lost on the one hand by +being deprived of their profits, and on the other +by the rise of wages. The only persons anywhere +who had ground for unmixed rejoicing in +this state of things were the landlords of none +but tithe-free estates. By the rise of rent, they +gained, and they alone: and their gain was by +no means in proportion to the collective loss of +the other parties. But it was a curious fact that, +while the church was complained of (and justly) +on all hands, for the tremendous injury occasioned +by its tithe system, the benefits of it went into +the pockets of landowners amidst the hills and +dales of Scotland, where a commutation long ago +placed them beyond the hazards of the desperate +game; and of all who could take their stand on +abbey lands, or on some lucky ancient modus, or +equally happy modern composition.</p> + +<p class='c001'>From the circumstances of the case, the Lamberts +suffered all the injustice which must accrue +upon the first institution of this most pernicious +tax. When it has been long enough paid to become +calculable, it is allowed for in the rent, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.78'>78</span>and falls next, like other land taxes, on the landowner—the +person most able, from the perpetual +tendency of rent to rise, to bear the burden. But +it is not long a burden to him, except as a consumer; +for, as it operates in increasing the expense +of cultivation, it raises prices; and the +consumer ultimately pays. The hardship of a +new institution, or, as in this case, of a revival +of tithe, is very great upon the tenant, and is a +sufficient exponent of the pernicious nature of the +impost. The lease of the Quarry Wood farm +had not many years to run; but the experience +of the first two years, and the opening of the +third, left the prospect of the young farmers anything +but bright. The present spring had been +most unfavourable to the crops. The doubt was +whether so much rain was not rotting the vegetation +in the ground. The view from the summer-house +was dreary,—of sodden fields, and lanes +lying under water. The very wall-flowers languished +for want of sun, Mrs. Lambert found +when she one day climbed the hill: but they did +not droop like her poor son Charles, whom she +found there, looking out of the window, with his +head leaning on his hand, and listening to the +patter of rain-drops which again began to fall, +and to drop from the broad thatch into the little +dell over which the summer-house projected. It +was a dispiriting thing to wander over the lands +of Quarry Wood farm, and see enclosures deserted +when half finished, and fields from which +golden harvests had been anticipated, grown over +with briars and thistles. It was in such a place +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.79'>79</span>that Mrs. Lambert met Joseph, one April afternoon, +when the twilight was settling down.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What hast thou got there, mother?” said +he: “A heavy load for thee to carry.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Not so heavy as large. These stringy, +branchy roots make a fine blaze to drink tea by; +and I thought it a pity this one should lie and +rot yonder. But thou hast thy hands full, seemingly. +Where art thou taking that poor thing +to?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>It was a ewe, very near its time of yeaning. +Joseph explained that Peterson’s eagerness about +where the ewes couched and fed had put into his +brother’s head and his own a device which it was +very well to have thought of. In the next parish, +tithes were only half the amount that they were +in this; and Charles and he had prepared the bit +of land they had in that parish for their ewes. +The animals were now being transferred thither, +gradually and quietly, lest Peterson should set +up a plea of fraudulent removal. The lambs +would remain there till the tithing was over: and +it was much to be wished that there was room +for all their flocks till shearing time should have +also passed.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But I am afraid we must go a long circuit, +before we can get to the ground,” continued he. +“This field is too deep in wet for the poor thing +to cross. ’Tis like a ditch, from end to end.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I should not have thought there had been +rain enough of late to soak the meadow in this +way,” observed the widow.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Except by filling the drains,” replied Joseph. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.80'>80</span>“They are choaked up, too, from our having +left the whole concern hereabouts to itself, this +year. But how in the world am I to get this +animal over? She will make herself heard with +her bleating after the flock.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“These are strange times, surely, Joseph, +when a ewe may not bleat her own bleat, and +when a son of mine skulks under a hedge on his +own farm.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And the cause is full as strange, mother,—fear +of man. I little thought to fear men; but +there are two that I would go a mile round to +avoid.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And they would say it is because thou art +trying to cheat them;—in the very act of carrying +thy ewes to yean out of their dominions.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Let them say so. It is not such a charge +that I fear. Disclaiming, as we do, the ordinance +of a priesthood altogether, my conscience leaves +me free to put my beasts to couch and feed where +it is most convenient, without regard to the parson. +My fear is that I should hate those men. +They injure me, and I cannot resist; and I have +lost patience of late. I would rather walk close +under my own hedge, and keep my ewe from +bleating than speak, even to myself, as I hear +some speak of the collector, and of the vicar, +who countenances him in his strictness.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I sometimes think that if the vicar’s wife +were still living, she would be rather uneasy +about his terms with his people. She would +hardly like his being much from home after +dark.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_2.81'>81</span>“So, that has struck thee too, as well as +Charles and me. It was only this morning that +I was saying to Charles, that perhaps it is a +blessing that Alice is too young to have such +fancies as she may live to suffer from. I suppose +she is in bed and asleep when he goes and +comes through that lonely lane at the back of +the vicarage, as he visits his brother of an +evening. That lane is hardly the place for a man +who has so many enemies.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I trust thou hast no apprehension of anything +worse than a few insults; or at most a beating, +to show contempt.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Indeed, I thought of something much worse. +There is less contempt than hatred of this man. +He is so persuaded that he is right in all that he +does that it is impossible to despise him as if he +defied the inward witness: but he is the more +hated as people see no end to their troubles with +him. If I am not mistaken, there are some in +the parish who have diligently inquired his age; +and not precisely for the purpose of wishing him +many happy birth-days.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Is the ewe by thy side?” asked Mrs. Lambert, +in a low voice, and peering through the +gathering twilight; “or was it something else +that I heard stirring in this ditch?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>It was not the ewe, but Peterson, who had +come, as he said, over a gap in the hedge. In +the darkness, it would have been impossible to +make out whether he had heard anything of what +had been said. Mrs. Lambert therefore asked +him.</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_2.82'>82</span>“Friend, didst thou hear what we were talking +about?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Tones of voice tell as much as words, mistress: +and I wonder at a plain spoken person +like you calling me ‘friend,’ when both you and +I know that you hate me like the devil. However, +I am going to make you hate me more still, +I fancy. Mr. Joseph, you have let this land go +to waste in a very sad way; and a field yonder, +too. The water stands a foot deep in this meadow; +and my children play hide and seek among +the whins yonder, where you might have corn +growing, if you would.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Joseph supposed he might do as he pleased +with the land till his lease was out.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But my employer is not to suffer for your +neglecting your land. The law makes a distinction +between land that is really barren, and that +which is needlessly inundated, or overgrown with +briars. ‘The field of the slothful,’ you know. +My eldest girl got her frock so torn with your +briars, that she brought a pretty scolding upon +herself, I can tell you.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Send her up to me, and I will mend her +frock,” requested Mrs. Lambert. “I will give +her a new one if thou wilt let my son alone as to +whether there shall be briars or anything else in +his field.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“No objection in the world, ma’am, if he pay +the due tithe.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I’m sure thou art kindly welcome to a tenth +of the water in this field, and of the stones in the +one above,” observed Joseph. But this offer was +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.83'>83</span>declined, and the old composition for these two +fields proposed instead.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Before there had been time for the dispute to +proceed further, a strange sound from the church +tower arrested Peterson’s attention. The bells +seemed about to be rung, and Peterson was gone.</p> + +<p class='c001'>What the occasion of rejoicing could be, the +Lamberts did not know; nor did they very much +care. They had grown listless about good news, +and were now most anxious to conclude the business +of the evening. As Peterson had crossed +the meadow, it must be possible for them and +their charge to do so too. The little ridge which +stood out of the water was found, and, one by +one, several of the teeming ewes were removed +and penned into their new inclosures before Joseph +went home; and no tormentor appeared.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Joseph told his mother that the labourers who +had cut the osiers for hurdles had been questioned +whether the article was intended for sale or gift, +or for use on the farm. The labourers were glad +to be able for once to repulse the tithing man, +whom they were weary of having for ever at +their heels. There was no small pleasure in +seeing the meek animals comfortably provided +for on the outskirts of the farm; as if they were +as conscious as their owners of the inhospitable +character of the parish whose bounds they had +crossed. It does not appear that lambs know a +tithing-man by instinct; but Joseph put expressions +of pity into his farewell for the night which +might seem to imply that he felt them to be fellow-sufferers +with himself under the rule of the +parish tyrant.</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_2.84'>84</span>After running home in the dark, with sleet +pelting in their faces, the mother and son liked +the aspect of their house, with its old-fashioned +windows lighted from within.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“See what it is not to wear curled hair,” cried +Mrs. Lambert, wiping the cold drops from her +short, grey locks, combed straight down on her +forehead. “If I had had such ringlets as some +fine ladies, now, what a figure my sons would +have thought me all this evening, with hair as +lank as a melancholy queen’s in a tragedy! I +call it neat as it is.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Joseph had not observed his mother’s hair, he +was so taken up with examining a letter which +had lain among the tea-things on the table. He +guessed its contents; and they were indeed such +as would have damped a far greater cheerfulness +than could arise from the aspect of a warm parlour +on a chilly evening. Mrs. Lambert’s only +sister, a widow, was dead, and had left five children +with a very inadequate provision, if any.</p> + +<p class='c001'>When Charles entered, a short time afterwards, +he knew from the first glance at his mother, sitting +with crossed hands and a countenance of +placid gravity, that something was the matter. +Joseph was standing in the chimney corner, gazing +into the fire. Charles looked from one to +the other. His mother roused herself.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“We are not made to choose our own duties, +son,” said she. “I know that it is thy wish to +be a husband, Charles; and Joseph and I wish +it for thee. But here are thy five cousins left +helpless. Their mother is dead; and while I live, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.85'>85</span>they must be my children, as much as you. I +must take them into this house, and let them eat +at my table.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And do you think we will not help you, +mother? I will go to-morrow and bring them; +and if it shall please God always to disappoint +me, I must bear it as well as I can.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I hope he will let it be with thee as it has +been with me, Charles. All the worst troubles +that I have known have been unlooked for; and +every thing that I have particularly dreaded has +turned out better than I expected. I know that +this is a blow to thee, though thou bearest it well +at present. I hope that thou wilt not have to +wait so long for Henrietta as we now expect.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I wish thou wouldst not speak of me, mother, +when I know that this death is a matter of great +concern to thee. When my aunt was last here, +and every one said that she looked more like thy +daughter than thy sister, we did not think that +we should not see her again.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The crossing of the hands again, and the +slight change of countenance showed that this +subject was very painful. Next to her sons, +there was no one in the world that Mrs. Lambert +loved so much as this sister—many years younger +than herself, to whom she had been, in early life, +as a mother.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Presently she moved about, much as usual, +doing all that she would have done if no bad +news had come,—only with somewhat more gravity +and silence. She did not forget to put on +the dry root to burn; and it blazed and crackled +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.86'>86</span>as busily as if it had been ministering to the comfort +of the merriest tea-party in the world.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“There are the bells again!” cried Charles. +“I thought I had stopped them. I wish thou +wouldst go down, and try to stop them, Joseph.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>There was an odd reason for the ringing of +these bells. A stranger who had been seen loitering +in the parish for a day or two was supposed +to be the person who had told the publican that +the vicar had received a remonstrance from his +ordinary respecting his strictness in the exaction +of his tithes; and that it was probable that he +might be removed ere long, to give place to some +one more acceptable to the parishioners. The +publican had made the most of the news; and +some of his customers, warmed with his good +ale, had sallied forth, and found easy means of +setting the bells ringing. Peterson was trying in +vain to silence them, when Charles went down +to enquire; but Charles had prevailed where the +tithe-gatherer had met with only defiance. The +bells, however, were now ringing again.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Joseph thought that enough had been done. +In a better cause, he would not have regarded +the sleet and the north wind that he must encounter +in his way to the church; but he now +preferred sitting in the chimney corner, hearing +the merry peal by fits, as the gust rattled +at the window and passed on. Besides, his +mother wanted him to help to lay plans for these +orphan children.</p> + +<p class='c001'>When the Lamberts had been more prosperous +than they were now, they had planned an enlargement +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.87'>87</span>of their house, which was scarcely +large enough for themselves, and would have +required an addition on Charles’s marriage, if +only from respect to Henrietta. It was particularly +conveniently placed for receiving an addition +of two or three rooms on the south side; +and a pretty parlour, with a bay-window, was to +have ornamented the dwelling. Prudential considerations +had caused the scheme to be given +up; but this evening it was revived. Charles +produced the plans which his brother had drawn, +and which he had hoped would next see the light in +Henrietta’s service. He suppressed a sigh when +his mother’s decided pencil scored out the bay-window; +and he roused his best powers of judgment +to discuss the necessary questions of convenience +and economy.—There was some good +brick clay in one corner of the farm, and timber +enough for their purpose; and the young men +thought that, by dint of their working like labourers, +and their mother’s superintending during +their unavoidable absence, the enlargement of +their dwelling might be effected without any very +ruinous expense. The brick making was to be +set about immediately, if the weather should but +prove fine enough. Bricks were very dear this +wet season; and the supply now wanted must be +made at home, if possible.</p> + +<div> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_2.88'>88</span> + <h3 id='ch2.6' class='c016'><span class='sc'>Chapter VI.</span><br> <br>COMMUTATION.</h3> +</div> + +<p class='c017'>The bells, or the rumours of them, made themselves +heard beyond the parish. The vicar was +little moved by them; but uncle Jerom was seen +by Alice, the next morning, approaching in a +state of sad perturbation. As he could not prevail +upon his brother to modify his system through +a consideration for his personal safety and dignity, +he now tried a different kind of appeal. He +asked whether it was not a deplorable scandal to +the church that there should be bell-ringing at +the prospect of a clergyman being taken from +his flock.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“It was less that than the belief that I had +been rebuked by my superior which caused the +exultation,” quietly replied the vicar. “But you +know that neither the one nor the other is true. +I will not, by yielding my own claims, give +occasion for the supposition that my superior +yields those of the church.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But if you allow proprietors to buy up the +tithes on their own lands,—Parker for instance,—you +will cease to have such for enemies; and it +will be a very different thing from selling the +dues of the church to an intermediate layman.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ah! Jerom, there you touch my conscience +in the only tender part. I have long repented letting +my tithes to Peterson, as you recommended. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.89'>89</span>It was bad advice, Jerom, as is all advice to rate +at an average a revenue for sacred objects, of +which revenue it is the primary quality that, as +God’s seasons vary, it must vary. Jerom, <a id='corr2.28.3'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='your’s'>yours</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_2.28.3'><ins class='correction'>yours</ins></a></span> +was bad advice.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Indeed it seems to have been so, by the aggravation +of your troubles since Peterson became +your lessee. But I find from him that Sir William +Hood is about to allow the great tithes to +be bought up, in order to put a stop to the deterioration +of husbandry in the parish; and I +really think you could not do a better thing than +follow his example when so good an opportunity +offers.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The vicar spread both hands before his brother, +in emphatic refusal.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Papa,” said Alice, “I wish you would do as +you are bid, sometimes, as you are always telling +me to do. Why don’t you mind what uncle +Jerom says, and what every body says? Well, +it may not be every body’s business; but I know +what Jane says; and I am sure she is as fond of +you as any body can be.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The being fond of him argued such a right +mind towards the church, that the vicar was immediately +prepared to hear what Mrs. Byrne had +to say.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“She says that she is frightened to hear how +people talk; and that she shall never be easy to +see you out walking till you have somehow put +other people into your place about collecting the +tithes. If there must be tithes, so that Mr. Parker +must always look out of humour, and the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.90'>90</span>Lamberts grow sad, and Mr. Byrne give up more +and more things in his garden, the blame ought +to go where it is due, she says; and that is to +the church, and not to you. And it would be so, +she thinks, if people all bought their own, and +there was an end of the quarrelling that there is +now, twice a year.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I wonder who suggested the idea to her,” +observed the vicar. “If I thought it was Mr. +Mackintosh——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I think it was not Mr. Mackintosh, papa. I +think it was the man that——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I know whom you mean,” said Jerom; +“the stranger who has been hanging about the +parish lately,—no one can tell why. Some of +my people suspect that he is an agent in the rick-burning +plot. I am sorry that Byrne lets him +within his doors.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And so is Jane, I think,” said Alice. “She +always tries to prevent my seeing him, if he happens +to be in the cottage; and once I observed +her cry the moment she saw her husband bringing +him up the road. Perhaps he will go away, +papa, if you will do as they wish you should.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>This was not the very best kind of appeal that +Alice could have used. He yielded so far, however, +as to allow his brother to bring him word how +the bargains for the great tithes between Peterson +and the payers were framed, and what effect they +appeared to produce on the minds and manners +of the discontented. He would determine accordingly +as to revising his scruples, or dismissing +the matter entirely from his thoughts.</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_2.91'>91</span>Of course, those who were visited by Mr. +Peterson and his companion varied in their eagerness +to buy up their tithes, in proportion to the +duration of their interest in the land. A farmer +who had just entered upon a long lease offered a +twenty years’ purchase at 7<i>l.</i> per acre, all round,—arable +and pasture. Others who were near +the end of their lease, and were discouraged by +the unfavourable aspect of the season, desired to +buy up their tithes year by year, if they could +but be secure against competition. Mr. Parker +was willing to make a liberal thirty years’ purchase, +in order to free his own estate, and leave himself +at liberty to improve it without discouragement, +or bequeath it to his son without disadvantage. +The sum demanded from him, as a hop-grower, +was, however, so enormous, that he declared +he would rather give up growing hops, as +others had done before him, than pay such a +merciless impost. Peterson asked him what he +would have; and showed him that other people’s +hop-grounds had yielded at the rate of 3<i>l.</i> per +acre. Mr. Parker wished to proceed upon the +basis of an average of the last five or seven years; +but this was declared to be the most fallacious of +guides. Peterson contended that the seasons +had been peculiarly unfavourable, and that the +modes of management had so varied within six +years as to leave no reasonable average. He +proposed to value the land and the tithe, deducting +the poor-rate and a per centage for the +owner’s trouble in stacking, thatching, and +threshing his farm produce, and carrying his hops +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.92'>92</span>to market. He considered it very liberal to offer +a further reduction of 20 per cent. in consideration +of the security of the impropriator from the +accidents of chance and change: but Mr. Parker +hesitated and grumbled, and treated Peterson’s +companion with nearly as fine a lament over the +assimilating qualities of the church as Mr. Mackintosh +himself could have offered. He related that +he had a pretty farm near town which had never +before been let by him for less than 5<i>l.</i> per acre. +It was with difficulty that he could now get 3<i>l.</i>, +on account of the enormous tithe. It was bad +enough to have the poor’s-rate as high as 13<i>s.</i> +per acre, and the sewer’s-rate perhaps 7<i>s.</i> or 8<i>s.</i> +more; but the amount of tithe paid in addition +was intolerable. The three rates together +amounted to nearly 3<i>l.</i> per acre over the whole +farm. He hoped Mr. Hellyer thought he contributed +his share towards promoting the piety of +the nation, when his land thus paid 3<i>l.</i> per acre +to maintaining a single clergyman.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Peterson wished to know in what proportion +the different kinds of produce yielded. Mr. Parker +was remarkable for a good memory as to the +several amounts of tithe.</p> +<table class='table2'> +<colgroup> +<col class='colwidth71'> +<col class='colwidth10'> +<col class='colwidth17'> +</colgroup> + <tr> + <td class='c014'>Wheat paid</td> + <td class='c013'>20<i>s.</i></td> + <td class='c022'>per acre.</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c014'>Barley and oats</td> + <td class='c013'>16<i>s.</i></td> + <td class='c022'>”</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c014'>Clover</td> + <td class='c013'>24<i>s.</i></td> + <td class='c022'>”</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c014'>Tares</td> + <td class='c013'>16<i>s.</i></td> + <td class='c022'>”</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c014'>First crop of potatoes</td> + <td class='c013'>25<i>s.</i></td> + <td class='c022'>”</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c014'>After which (on the same land) turnips</td> + <td class='c013'>16<i>s.</i></td> + <td class='c022'>”</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c014'>Second crop of potatoes</td> + <td class='c013'>20<i>s.</i></td> + <td class='c022'>”</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c014'>Hay</td> + <td class='c013'>8<i>s.</i></td> + <td class='c022'>”</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c014'><span class='pageno' id='Page_2.93'>93</span>Onions</td> + <td class='c013'>40<i>s.</i></td> + <td class='c022'>”</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c014'>Collards</td> + <td class='c013'>16<i>s.</i></td> + <td class='c022'>”</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c014'>A sow</td> + <td class='c013'>10<i>s.</i></td> + <td class='c022'>6<i>d.</i></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c014'>A cow</td> + <td class='c013'>15<i>s.</i></td> + <td class='c022'> </td> + </tr> +</table> +<p class='c003'>And garden and farm-yard poultry according to +circumstances. A certain amount was to be paid +for all small tithes, whether the tenant produced +the titheable articles or not.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“There are plenty of men like you,” observed +Mr. Parker to Peterson, “who talk of an average +of a few years on each separate estate,—five or +seven years,—and would have any commutation +that is proposed proceed upon such an average. +Now, here is a case which shows you the injustice +of such a principle. My interest in my land +would be almost annihilated if I allowed it to be +calculated to yield 2<i>l.</i> per acre to the church. +To perpetuate such a charge as this would be to +ruin the owners of land near London, and in +many other situations. They say the price of +produce would rise accordingly; but before it +could rise enough to repay me for such a sacrifice, +the people would be boiling acorns and stewing +nettles for food.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And it would ruin the church in some other +districts,—” Jerom was going on to say; but +Mr. Parker interrupted him with,—</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Not so completely as the present plan, sir. +The worst enemy of the church,—Mr. Mackintosh +himself,—could not desire more than to see +the church consuming the state, as it is doing +now. As for men that we think wiser than Mr. +Mackintosh, they are of opinion that religion was +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.94'>94</span>given us to bless our bread, to prosper us in +basket and store, and not to devour our plenty. +The people cannot but see that the reverse is the +case with the established religion of this country;—that +in plentiful seasons, the clergy take much, +(legally, I allow,)—and that in bad seasons they +take more, (legally, and therefore the more gallingly.) +The people cannot but feel that as the +net produce of the nation grows smaller in proportion +to the gross, and as the clergy seize a +larger proportion of the net produce, the question +must come to this,—whether the people shall +have state-priests or bread. How the clergy are +likely to fare in such an alternative, I leave it to +you to guess.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“So, you allow that this is a question pertaining +to the people. You allow that the landlord +does not alone support the church.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Look at the owners of tithe-free lands, and see +the folly of such a question. They are getting rich +under the operation of our precious system of inequality. +And how? Not merely because their +farms are in an universally better condition than +the tithed: not only because the abbey farm is better +worth 20<i>s.</i> per acre rent than the Quarry Wood +farm is worth 13<i>s.</i>, for the reason that the one does +not pay tithe and the other does,—and so on, +through all farms that bear this distinction; but +because these landowners are profiting by the +high prices of produce which must cover the +sacrifice of the tithe-payer. No, no: landowner +as I am, I never was heard to say that the landlord +pays the tithe, in a general way, any more +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.95'>95</span>than the farmer. They both have their grievances, +and their occasional losses under the system;—they +are vexed from month to month, and eat +dear bread and meat in their own families, and +pay high wages to their labourers; but these +sacrifices are made by them in their character of +consumers; and it is the people who pay the +tithes; the poor Stockport weaver in his garret, +and the half-starved apple-vender in her cellar, as +truly as the Lamberts and myself.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You would sweep away tithe, at once and +for ever, I suppose, in pity to these poor people; +and set your vicar and myself to weave in a +garret, or sell apples in a cellar.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“No; it may be left to Mackintosh to preach +up such a scheme of spoliation as that. If the +clergy alone were concerned, I might be willing,—not +that they should weave and sell apples,—but +that they should obtain their support, like +other servants of society, from the hands of +those whom they serve. But tithe property has +become so complicated with other property as to +be equally sacred with that other property: and I +should cry out as vehemently against its abolition +(without compensation) as against reducing the +interest of the debt. No wise man—no man of +honour—can advocate either kind of public robbery.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Since there is this complication of tithe with +other property, it had better be let alone. You +can no more disentangle it than you can pay the +debt. You will never achieve a scheme which +will satisfy both tithe and land owner.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_2.96'>96</span>“Probably. It would be strange if a perfectly +unobjectionable plan could be formed to lead us +out of the mischiefs of a pernicious system whose +evil influences have been accumulating for centuries. +But, if the church and the landowners +understand anything of their own state and prospects, +they will be anxious for a final settlement +of their accounts within a defined and early period. +Such a settlement must take place, sooner or +later, since this tax involves the very principle of +perpetual growth. Nothing but absolute transformation +can prevent it enlarging till it swallows +up everything.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I am sure my brother and I do not find it +so.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Because you cannot recover your dues; but +the farmer can instruct you here. My father +had a favourite little farm of a hundred acres, +which was left to him in 1791, and came into my +hands in 1812. When he first let it, the rent +was 80<i>l.</i>, and the tithe 14<i>l.</i> 9<i>s.</i>; in 1798, the +tithe had risen to 17<i>l.</i> 12<i>s.</i>; in 1805, rent was +95<i>l.</i>, tithe 23<i>l.</i> 7<i>s.</i>; in 1812 the tithe had risen +to 29<i>l.</i> A farm of mine, which let, a few years +ago, for 240<i>l.</i>, then paid 30<i>l.</i> in tithes. It now +lets for 689<i>l.</i>, and the tithes are 140<i>l.</i>: that is, +the tithes are nearer five-fold than the rent three-fold +what was paid before. And, in like manner, +there must be an increase all over the country, +since the same proportion of the gross produce +must be paid in tithe, through every increase of +the expense of such production. Therefore, +above all things, let us know, in rectifying our +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.97'>97</span>tithe system, that we really are to have done with +it by and by; and when.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And how do you propose to reconcile the +clergy to the tithe system thus being brought to +an end?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Those of them who understand their own +position see, like other men, the folly of the +clergy stickling for tithes. The clergy have only +a life-interest in tithes; and the possession of a +certain income is the circumstance which is of +most consequence to them. Some contend for +tithes as if they were the most secure source of +income in the world, or as if they were an inheritance +for a future generation; but many more +would be glad to depend on a fund less precarious, +and less odious in the collection.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Do you allow nothing for attachment to +ancient ecclesiastical institutions?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“In your simple brother: but there are faithful +churchmen, just as much attached as he to +ancient ecclesiastical institutions, who have eyes +to see the different effects of the tithe systems of +Ireland and Scotland, and who reason from them. +They see how, in Ireland, the farmer becomes a +peasant, and then is hunted out of house and +home by the <a id='corr2.88.26'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='tithe-procter'>proctor</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_2.88.26'><ins class='correction'>proctor</ins></a></span>, and then turns on the +proctor to maim and murder him; while in Scotland, +the farmer carries home his harvest without +interruption, and looks with compassion on his +English brother. In the first case, appears an +aggravated repetition of the abuses of the +English system; in the other, the tithes are +drawn with comparative harmlessness, whether +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.98'>98</span>by the crown, the clergy, or laymen, in the form +of a fixed rent. So long ago as Pitt’s time, +there were not wanting bishops to approve of the +church being supported by a civil fund. It is +true, the plan would have been all for the benefit +of the clergy, in the very point in which it is +most important to obtain relief.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“In that of the perpetual increase of which +you complain?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Yes. When the tithe should have been +bought up, in the same way that it was intended +that the land-tax should be, and the proceeds invested +in the funds, the people were not to flatter +themselves that they had done with the tax. The +income was to be so adjusted as to admit an increase, +from time to time, in proportion to the +rise in the price of grain. The bishop who recorded +this scheme breathed no syllable about +the desecration of the church by this mode of +augmenting its funded income: and the objections +of his brethren were of a different cast.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“As different, probably, as mine from my +brother’s, when we sit down to talk over the prospects +of the church. I have not the least objection, +as he will tell you, to an alteration in the +source of our incomes, if the change could be +innocently brought about; but I never could see +how injustice and tyranny, towards one party or +the other, are to be avoided. It is tyranny to +the landowner to compel the universal and immediate +purchase of the tithe; and it is injustice +to the clergy to prohibit that natural increase of +their revenue which they consider to have been +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.99'>99</span>guaranteed to them by the very institution of +tithes?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Suppose a plan which should contain an +alternative by which both these objections should +be answered. Suppose a scheme of commutation +under which a tithe-rate should be instituted, +subject to increase upon a demand for a revaluation +of land, from time to time; while an option +should be given to the landowner, to be subject +to this increase, or to make a twenty or thirty +years’ purchase,—that is, a final purchase of the +tithe. I think there might be such a plan.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And then those who paid the most tithe +would be the first to redeem. But how would +you set about ascertaining a <i>tithe-rate</i>, afraid as +you are of taking an average of a few years as a +rule?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“That objection applies only to perpetuating +the limited average of an individual estate. If +the average is extended over a parish, or over a +county, the calculation becomes a much fairer +one. I see no other principle to proceed upon +than that of taking an average; and the question +of fairness lies between taking in a longer period +of time and a larger extent of space. I feel that +it would be hard upon me to perpetuate the tithe +of my farm near town at 2<i>l.</i> per acre; and though +it would be fairer to take for a basis the average +of tithe which it has paid for fifty years, a better +plan still would be to find out the proportion of +tithe to yearly value of land all through the +county, and to fix the tithe-rate according to this +proportion.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_2.100'>100</span>“You could never get such a valuation made +fairly. When you meet with a modus, what are +you to do with it? And how are you to settle +what is arable land and what pasture? And every +farmer will protest against some kinds of produce +that are particularly profitable being no +more taxed than others. There would be complaints +of you,—a hop-grower,—being let off as +easily as a grower of corn.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“All these matters of detail might be settled +when once the general principle is agreed upon. +If hop-grounds now pay considerably more, from +the nature of their produce, than other lands, let +them be subject to a fair extra charge. Let a +term be fixed,—five years, perhaps,—within +which the tillage of lands shall cause those lands +to be called arable. And what is easier than to +deduct any modus from the tithe-rate? Give us +the principle of a good scheme, and its application +will not be long delayed by difficulties +about these minor matters of detail?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Your plan would be to have an ascertainment +of the annual value of the land, and of the tithe, +upon an average of a few years. You would +settle their relative value, and declare it in the +form of a poundage upon rent for the county. +You would allow a periodical revaluation on the +application of the tithe-owner——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Or of the landowner.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Of either party, of course. So the tithe remains +liable to increase or decrease——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“It would be increase. The nature of the +tax insures its perpetual increase. But the bad +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.101'>101</span>effects of this increase would be guarded against +by obliging the tithe-taker to accept from the +tithe-payer a twenty-five years’ purchase of the +tithes, as a final redemption of his land from +tithes. If this tax be really the grievance it is +declared to be, the permission to redeem will be +made ample use of. And the church——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ah! how do you propose to reconcile the +church to the extinction of tithes?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“To the perpetuation, I suppose you mean. +If you should happen to live a few years longer +under the present system, you might chance to +be taught a little more correctly what extinction +is. If you now find it impossible to collect all +that is due to you, you may have no chance of +collecting any thing twenty-five years hence. +The church may be very thankful to have its +present amount of revenue secured to it, and to +be allowed the opportunity of making a permanent +property of it. My great doubt is——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Under what agency the commutation is to +be effected so as to satisfy the parties. Who +will undertake it?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Agents so various as to secure impartiality. +Royal Commissioners, perhaps, might make the +original valuation: and they might be followed +by arbitrators who should settle disputes. Then +the mechanical part of the business,—the ascertainment +of the tithe-rate,—might be done by the +justices. The business which most nearly concerns +the church,—the final bargain with the +landowner, and the investment of the purchase-money +either in land for glebe, in the funds, or +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.102'>102</span>in mortgages, might be managed by a corporation +of churchmen.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But how many landowners who may wish +to redeem will be ready with the cash?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Why must the church be paid in cash? A +mortgage on the land to be redeemed, with a +good rate of interest,—say 4 per cent.,—would +suit the convenience of all parties. A small +per centage on the tithe-rate collected would +defray all expences.—I do not see how any difficulties +which can attend a scheme like this can +be shown to bear any comparison with the evils +daily endured under the present system. The +doubt I spoke of is whether the great body of +the people would not complain of the church +being too well treated, its chances of existence +being too favourably computed, under such a +scheme as I have given you an outline of. I, +for one, should say so, if I supposed that the +church must either retain its present form or +perish. But, believing that there is an alternative, +I am willing to do my part in such a compromise +as I have proposed.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What kind of an alternative?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“The transformation of the church, so that it +may fulfil the original purposes of its establishment. +When the church was established for the +promotion of religion, religion was the only kind +of education which could be given to the people. +The time is come when not only must the church +be made an educational institution, in order to +fulfil its original design, but the religion which it +professes to protect cannot be supported without +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.103'>103</span>the aid of education. If it could be, it would be +superstition, and not religion.—Yes, the days of +the present mode of existence of the Church of +England are numbered. Religion flourishes so +much more eminently, so much more extensively +when supported by the free-will of the worshippers, +and has been so indisputably proved incapable +of an incorrupt union with the state, as to +leave no doubt that the Church of England, already +a very minute sect among the worshippers +of christendom, will soon become too insignificant +and weak to maintain its place, unless it quits +the ground of its present monstrous assumption, +and takes its stand on the cultivated reason of its +supporters. I do not know why you,—a clergyman +as you are,—should look surprised at what +is far from surprising to those who are not clergymen. +Look at the map of christendom, and +see what space is occupied by our church. Look +at Great Britain alone, and mark what proportion +the dissenters bear to the church. Observe +how many are coming forth from her,—and those +the zealous and the dissatisfied, while, from the +very nature of the case, the lukewarm and indifferent +remain in the bosom of the establishment. +Mark the certainty that the worldly and careless +will go over to the dissenters from the moment +that dissent reaches the point of ascendancy over +conformity, and then say whether there be any +other alternative than this,—that the Church of +England must enlarge its office, and improve its +ministrations, or fall.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_2.104'>104</span>“My brother will preach against you for a +person as dangerous as Mr. Mackintosh.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“He will not make Mr. Mackintosh less dangerous, +but more so, by preaching against him; +and as for me, he might perhaps do more wisely +in hearing me than in marking me out to be +questioned by those in this parish who do not love +the church as they once did.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And you would tell those questioners that +they must not love their church any more till it +is no longer a church, but a school.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Till the vices of the institution are exploded,—till +the clergy cease to be the organs +and tools of the oligarchy, for whose purposes +the corrupt system of church patronage is kept +up. If the clergy were paid according to their +services by those whom they serve, instead of +being made the pretext for keeping up an ecclesiastical +fund useful for filling the pockets and +disposing of the younger sons of the aristocracy, +there would be an end of the overgrown wealth +of some of our dignitaries, and the disgraceful +poverty of too many of our working clergy. There +would also be some chance of the clergy ceasing +to be below every other class of men in a reputation +for moral and political independence.—‘By +teaching, we learn;’ and there may yet be hope +that such of the clergy as shall be qualified to +begin imparting the elements of the morals required +by an advancing age, may be able to bear +the ark of christianity through the troubled waters +which they must soon encounter. Such of them +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.105'>105</span>as are unfit for this office will sink, and, while +sinking, will cry that the ark has perished. But +there will not be many to believe it.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“God will support his own church.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“God will support the true faith; and his +support must be looked for in the usual mode of +manifestation,—in the support of man,—in the +recognition by man of what is just and right.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Your proposed method of commuting some +of the property of the church is to be recognized +as just and right, I suppose.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I believe it has a pretty good chance of being +so, if one great consideration be attended to in +time;—a consideration which is at present by far +too little regarded. This measure can hardly be +called just to the people at large, unless it be followed +up by another.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ah! that is the way. Every innovation +brings another after it.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“How else is the race to advance? You +yourself believe that the great innovation of +christianity brought many others after it; and, +you may believe me, these of which we are +speaking form part of the sequence. Justice +requires that there should be an alteration in our +corn-laws, to meet the enlargement of demand +that must follow upon the relief of land from the +burden of tithe.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You do not mean that the clergy now eat +more corn than they will eat then?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“No; but the price of corn is now higher +than it will be then. No one knows better than +you, as a clergyman, that not above one half of +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.106'>106</span>the sums drawn out of their natural channel under +the tithe system goes to the clergy. Half of +it goes into the pockets of the owners of tithe-free +land, in the shape of increased rent. This +rent would fall; and after it, the price of produce; +and the fall of price would be followed by +an increased demand; and this demand would be +supplied,—not only by increased importation, +(the import duties having previously risen with +the fall of prices at home,) but by the cultivation +of inferior soils, now no longer subjected to the +burden of tithe. A quantity of the capital of the +nation must thus be buried in inferior soils, and +tend to increase rent,—<i>i. e.</i> to enrich the landlord, +and, once again, the church, at the expense +of the people.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But the great obstacle to the repeal of the +corn-laws at present is the amount of capital +which is invested in inferior soils.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“The very best reason for not tempting or +compelling a further investment of the same sort. +The whole benefit of the commutation depends +upon this. If the import duties be so lowered as +to admit of the usual supply from abroad, our +people will obtain the desired relief from the +change of system. If not, it will matter little to +the weaver and the apple-vender, at the end of +five years, whether they pay their tax to the +clergy, or to the barrenness of the ground. It +should not, in this conjuncture, be forgotten that +the plea of landlords for maintaining the corn-laws +has always been the taxes upon agricultural +production,—and tithes above all the rest. If, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.107'>107</span>when tithes are commuted, the landlords should +change their plea, and declare that it was not +they who formerly paid tithes, but the public, and +that they therefore need the protection of the corn-laws +as much as ever, I trust the legislature will +perceive that the corn-laws ought not to have +been kept up thus long, instead of fancying that +they must be maintained yet longer.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You are hard to please,” observed Jerom, +with a grim smile. “Though a landowner, you +are no more fond of corn-laws than of tithes.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I grant that you and I should find it difficult +to settle which is the worst,—for ourselves, and +for the people at large. I only wish I could +make you, a clergyman, as discontented with +tithes as I, a landowner, am with corn-laws.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Some people,” observed Jerom, “complain +of tithes as being bad in a deteriorating country; +but you have been murmuring at their operation +on your father’s improving farm.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“For the good reason that tithes are injurious +in the extreme, in either case. In an improving +country, where there is capital ready for application, +tithes are bad as discouraging the application +of that capital. Witness that pretty field of +mine which must lie waste till I can cultivate it +without having all my profit swallowed up by the +church. In a deteriorating country, the tithe is +bad, because it tempts to the cultivation of inferior +in preference to superior soils, and raises wages, +and augments, both in value and amount, with +scarcity. Witness its effects upon the Lamberts,—the +poor ground they have sown this +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.108'>108</span>year, and the better that they have let alone, and +the general air of deterioration caused by the +higher price of labour. I am afraid Peterson is +plaguing them again about some new claim or +another. He left us long ago, and walked that +way. He is fond of doing business with them, +because, as Quakers, they can offer no resistance. +Shall we go and see?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>As was anticipated, Peterson was found worrying +the Lamberts. Wherever the axe and +mattock were heard, there, as a matter of course, +was Peterson; and his quick ear had caught the +sound of the chopping of wood while Mr. Parker +and Jerom were arguing. The Lamberts’ labourers +were busy in making faggots of a good +deal of wood which had been cut some time before; +and of these faggots Peterson was claiming +his share.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Do look at him!” said Parker. “He is +going to measure trees, I do believe, to see if +they are of the required twenty years’ growth. +He carries his measure about with him, as a surgeon +does his lancets.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“If thou wilt only go and ask any lawyer,” +said Joseph, who was much heated, “he will tell +thee that thou hast no more right to the tops and +lops of our pollard oaks than thou hast to the +tenth chamber of any house. With all thy boast +of law, thou mightest know that, I think. The +loppings are exempted as much as the bodies.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“We shall see that, friend. Meantime, I +shall take leave to measure what I call, in a legal +sense, underwood, and you timber. You will +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.109'>109</span>please to show me the beeches from which all this +wood was cut.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Thou mayst try and find them out. But, friend, +I give thee notice that it will do thee no good, if +thou shouldst chance to find the right tree, and +that it is twenty-five inches in the girth. Thou +hast apparently forgotten some purposes that wood +may be cut for.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“By no means; but you cannot deny that +these ash-poles are for sale to Mr. Parker for his +hops, and these faggots for the market.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mr. Parker denied that he meant to purchase +any ash-poles of the Lamberts; and Joseph declared +that the faggots were for use on the farm. +Peterson would not believe it, so great as the +quantity was. Was he to believe that these half-dozen +men, all chopping and binding, as if to +supply the parish with fuel, were merely preparing +wood for farm purposes?</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Yes: we have to burn bricks; and, in this +rainy season, there is no time to be lost. And +now, friend Peterson, art thou satisfied?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“By no means, till I know what the bricks +are for. They may be for sale.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“They are for enlarging our house on the +Abbey Farm.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Enlarging. Hum. Not repairing. If it +had been mere needful reparation, the wood for +burning the bricks would not, as you say, have +been titheable. But enlarging is a different +matter, as my book will show you. You must +set out tithe of this billet wood, and these tops +and lops.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_2.110'>110</span>“I assure thee, it is not for our pleasure, or +for any purpose of vanity, that we are going to +enlarge our house. Indeed, the times are not +suited to such an intention. We are merely preparing +to receive a family of orphans who have +no other home to look to.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Peterson had nothing to do with this. Sir +William Hood was not to suffer for there being +orphans in the parish.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Cannot you contrive, now,” asked Mr. Parker, +“to tithe these orphans, as well as the wood +that is to burn the bricks that are to build them +a dwelling? If there happen to be ten of them, +I dare say Mrs. Lambert will not grudge one of +them to the church.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Joseph could have made a long and eloquent +reply to this; but he was particularly anxious +not to detain the tithe-gatherer, lest any accident +should lead the conversation round to his precious +ewes, so as to put Peterson upon missing them +from their accustomed places. He briefly said +that he and his brother should, as usual, decline +to set out tithe of wood; and if the agent chose +to seize it, the proceeding must be at his own +risk. He took up a hatchet, and made noise +enough to show his troublesome visitor that no +more conversation was desired. There was no +use in entering with the Lamberts on the subject +of a sale of their tithes, as their principles forbade +their admitting the right to levy a tax for the +support of religion.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mr. Mackintosh could not bend his spirit to a +compromise. His tithes must be taken by seizure, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.111'>111</span>if at all, so long as he remained at the rectory. +Others were more ready to compromise,—particularly +those who wished to free land of their +own from an interference which made them feel +very much as if the land was not their own; but +there was so much trouble in settling the averages, +in agreeing about the deductions, and determining +the proportions according to the longer +or shorter term of years for which the purchase +was to be made, that, before it was over, all parties +began to wish that some principle had been +established for general guidance;—that, in a case +so peculiar, the negociators could have been assisted +and protected by government sanction.</p> + +<p class='c001'>There was no hope of the vicar’s becoming +such a negociator, when a reduction of 20 per +cent. in consideration of contingencies, had once +been mentioned as one of the grounds of an +agreement. He would never consent to surrender +any of the dues of the church,—more especially +as a letter from a lawyer this day gave high +hopes that the authority of the church was about +to be vindicated by the issue of his lawsuits with +his parishioners being in his favour. This was +an encouragement to his firmness and zeal which +he could not disregard.</p> + +<div> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_2.112'>112</span> + <h3 id='ch2.7' class='c016'><span class='sc'>Chapter VII.</span> <br> <br> DIMISSION.</h3> +</div> + +<p class='c017'>Two of the law-suits were soon decided. The +vicar lost that which related to the Abbey Farm, +and gained that which disputed the reality of the +composition by which the defendant declared the +glebe-land belonging to the vicarage to be held. +The defendant firmly believed that the evidence +of this composition existed; though, from its +never having been disputed before, it had been +taken no care of; and to lose the cause and pay +the new claim of tithe would, he found, be a less expensive +process than recovering the evidence on +which his defence must be based. He declared +that he should assert to his dying day that the +vicar, like many another litigious priest, paid +himself twice over, keeping the land and taking +the tithe. The parishioners only waited, it was +said, for the decision of the third cause, to toll +the bell, and give their pastor his second warning +of the consequences of making war against his +flock.</p> + +<p class='c001'>There were now, however, some peace-makers +in the parish,—five little peace-makers, who might +be seen on a Sunday, walking hand in hand, all +in a row; three of them in sleek brown coats +and overshadowing drab beavers, and two in +plain white frocks and close straw bonnets. The +parties between whom quarrels ran highest were +united in showing kindness to these orphans. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.113'>113</span>The new rooms at the farm being yet scarcely +begun, many friends of the widow Lambert +wished to take in the children till she could comfortably +accommodate them. Mrs. Byrne begged +hard for one of the boys, if he would not mind +sleeping in the little bed that Miss Alice had had +good rest in, many a time. It would be an +amusement to her husband, who had been much +out of spirits of late; and the little gentleman +would be a companion for Miss Alice when she +came to watch the bees, and do what she liked +with the garden. Mrs. Beverly thought that she +and her maid could make the two girls happy, by +setting them to work upon some extraordinary +patchwork, and to play with the baby-house which +had been Mrs. Beverly’s amusement on birth-days +when she was their age; but Mrs. Beverly +spoke too late; the girls were already promised +to the vicarage.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Well; she and her maid would have liked +the girls best; but, since they were engaged, +they thought they could manage the two little +ones,—the youngest now running alone very +prettily. But Mrs. Lambert could not part with +them all; and those she kept must be the two +little ones, who could sleep in her room. With +her they therefore staid; and whenever they had +the rare luck of a fine morning, this rainy season, +they might be seen, the one trotting at cousin +Joseph’s heels, in loving company with the dog, +and the other riding to the field on cousin Charles’s +shoulder.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Mother,” said Charles, on the day of their +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.114'>114</span>arrival, when he had succeeded in stopping Rachel’s +tears,—the tears of the stranger,—by employing +her to sew a button upon his gaiter,—“Mother, +dost thou not think that people may +be too tender-hearted sometimes?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Is thy mother too tender-hearted? Then I +am afraid thou art too like thy mother, Charles.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I should not have been like thee to-day. If +it is really right that Rachel and Margaret should +go to the vicarage, I am glad that the vicar did +not fall in with me on his way here. I should have +refused his offer; and, I really think, so wouldst +thou, but for the thought how the children would +enjoy one another’s company.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I do not see what harm can befal them at +the vicarage. It is a very sober place. At least, +I never heard of any dissipation that was going on +there; and the vicar reads the Bible in the family +every day. They will not have any gaiety beyond +gardening with Alice, and playing with her old +doll. Will they?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Charles was thinking of something quite different +from this. He could not have brought himself +to accept a favour for these children from +one who had conducted himself as the vicar had +done.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Well, now, son, I do not see much reason +in that speech of thine. If the vicar has done +ill by us, why should we hinder his doing better +by somebody else? I am afraid there is a little +pride in thy objection. What dost thou think?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Perhaps there is some pride; but I do not +much value the kindness of one who can be so +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.115'>115</span>hard as he has shown himself in many instances. +I should be apt to think it flattery.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Not in this man. He cannot flatter; and +where he has been most wrong, he thinks himself +right. Ay; it is a strange delusion; but I +think him as sincere as he thinks me,—and thou +knowest what reason he has to think that. Dost +thou know, I felt glad of the opportunity of +letting his people see how well he means, and +what kind things he does when he is a Christian; +that is, when nothing puts him in mind that he +is also a churchman.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Charles was once again surprised at the deceitfulness +of the human heart. He was actually +wishing to return evil for evil when he thought +he was consulting the dignity, (or other welfare,) +of the children. He would take them down himself +to the vicarage, and go in to make his acknowledgments +on their behalf to the vicar.</p> + +<p class='c001'>No children could be happier than Rachel and +Margaret during their stay;—patronised by Alice, +stroked on the head by the vicar, kept in no more +than due order by Susan, visited by aunt Martha, +invited by Mrs. Beverly to make patchwork and +play with the babyhouse; smiled at by Miss Fox +and all her school when they passed in the lanes; +and allowed to gather peas for Mrs. Byrne, when +they went to her cottage to see Jonathan. A +long-expected day was, however, approaching, +which was to throw into shade all other days of +delight.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Alice had not yet been permitted by Mr. +Mackintosh to make hay on his lawn. Last year, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.116'>116</span>indeed, she had felt herself too old and too proud +to ask the favour. Finding herself, from her +parentage, shunned by other people in her neighbourhood +who were liable for tithes, she had not +yet attained her wish of once more handling a +rake, and tedding the sweet-smelling grass. This +year, however, there was a prospect,—if the sun +would but shine so as to give the grass a chance +of being dried. Mr. Pratt, whom her father +had conquered at law, was to pay his dues to the +vicar direct, and not through Peterson; and +Alice persuaded her father to prefer the tenth +haycock, to be prepared and carried at his own +cost, to the twelfth, delivered at the loft. She +and her five little friends could almost make the +hay: and O! the anticipations of the day! +Rachel and Margaret could never be sufficiently +instructed and enlightened as to what they were +to do and to expect; and Susan had no rest till +she had promised buns and a bottle of cider, to be +eaten and drunk upon a haycock. The farmer +took them by surprise with his notice at last, and +no buns were ready: but Susan promised that the +young folks should not die of famine in the hay-field, +but that something eatable should follow +them at noon. She shrewdly perceived that this +would be the more necessary, as the children could +eat but a small breakfast. They sat still, and +looked calm, as little quakers should: but they had +not much appetite.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“How hot the sun is here!” cried Alice, laying +her hand on the window-shutter, which had +been but too little noticed by the sun this year. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.117'>117</span>“Come and feel, Rachel! That sun will do for +hay-making, if any will.” And she stood on tip-toe, +peeping over her papa’s shoulder, to see how +much tea he had forgotten to drink while absorbed +in his book.</p> + +<p class='c001'>She whispered to her companions that they +might go and get ready, and that they should not +have to wait for her long. Because she whispered, +her papa heard her. He looked round +him, and particularly at the room door, as if +wondering whether that slam was its own: then +gulped down his tea, and desired the dear child +to go and make herself happy.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But, papa, you are going with us.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Impossible! What could the dear child be +thinking of? There was an absolute necessity +for his clearing up a doubtful point which he had +promised uncle Jerom to solve; and he expected +letters——</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ah! about that law-suit that makes everybody +so rude to you! I wish you would not have +any more of those law-suits. People would like +you much better if you would go and make hay. +Let this be the very last law-suit, papa.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>She could not wish this more than he did. If +his people would only not fail in their duty to +the church, he should be the last person in the +world to resort to law.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Well, but do make hay, at any rate, papa.” +And before her long string of good reasons was +fully drawn out, Rachel and Margaret were +standing, side by side, before the vicar, ready to +say—</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_2.118'>118</span>“We wish thou wouldst go.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The vicar had seldom known Alice so eager +and urgent; and if it would really spoil the dear +child’s pleasure that he should be absent, he +would put off his gown, and put on his coat, and +go. It was particularly inconvenient. He +thought he must carry his book in his pocket, and +read in the shade</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But thou wilt let us topple thee,” remonstrated +Margaret.</p> + +<p class='c001'>This might be determined in the field. He +supposed this was Alice’s inducement to press +him so earnestly to go. Here his opposition +ceased. He remembered how perpetually he +was thwarting his daughter’s desire that he should +stay at home after dark, and resolved to gratify +her much more reasonable wish that he should +walk abroad in the morning sunshine. He was +ready nearly as soon as she, and only stipulated +for being allowed to go whither he pleased, when +he had been “toppled” to their full satisfaction.</p> + +<p class='c001'>It was indeed a glorious day,—a day of more +genial sunshine than had been seen during the +season,—the first day which a kindly shepherd +would acknowledge to be warm enough for the +washing and shearing of his flock.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Look, look!” cried Rachel, who had run on +before the rest of the party. “What are those +cruel people doing to the sheep? I do believe +they are going to drown the sheep in the pond! +Canst thou not make haste and prevent them?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Alice looked rather contemptuously on the +town-bred child, and was anxious to lead her +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.119'>119</span>companions round by another way;—not that +any one could enjoy a sheep-washing more than +she; but she dreaded that further disputes about +tithe, and more hatred to her father might arise +out of his being present at the shearing. She +need not have hoped to prevail, however. Her +father stalked on, unconsciously resuming his +official air; and the little girls were too anxious +to know what became of the sheep to think of +staying behind.</p> + +<p class='c001'>It was a great relief to discover that the sheep +came out safe at the other side of the pool; and +that the dogs, however much noise they might +make, did not eat the poor animals. The men +and boys, too, looked merry; and presently +Charles was seen giving his baby cousin a ride on +a sheep’s back into the water; which feat would +hardly have taken place amidst any desperate +intentions towards the flock. Margaret next concluded +that all this was pure play.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I am sure cousin Joseph told me that old +Sam had no time to play with me, and that nobody +had time to play at the farm till afternoon; +and there they are,—cousin Joseph, and old Sam, +and plenty more, playing with brothers, though +they will not with us, Rachel.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I don’t think it is any fun to the sheep,” observed +Rachel. “They bleat as loud as the dogs +bark. But I never saw such large sheep in my +life. Look at that big thing, standing dripping +on the grass! Didst thou ever see such a fat +creature, Margaret?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“It will be thin enough presently,” said Alice, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.120'>120</span>“when the shearers have cut off all that load of +wet wool. Come, now, you have seen all you +can see. Let us go over this slope, where we can +get as many cowslips as we please, instead of +passing all those people.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The little girls had not, however, seen half +as much as they wanted. They wished to make +out whether there was any soap in the pool to +wash the wool so white; and they were willing to +take the chance of a ride into the water; and +desired to persuade their brothers to go on to the +hay-field with them. Alice perplexed them with +signs that she wished to pass on.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Thou squintest thy eye,” observed Margaret. +“What dost thou mean?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Never mind now,” replied Alice, somewhat +sharply. “It is too late now. If you had +minded me a little more than the sheep, papa +would not have thought of anything but going +straight on.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Art thou afraid of that man? He is not +gaylooking,” remarked Rachel. “He would see +much better if he would come on this side the +hedge, instead of prying.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Alice now saw the man whom Mrs. Byrne +disliked as a companion for her husband, peeping +through the hedge, and evidently watching the +vicar, while he handled the fleece of one and +another of the flock, and looked on more like a +proprietor than a spectator. She ran down to +tell her father,—she scarcely knew why: but he +was then too busy to attend to her.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Halloo, parson, what are you about?” cried +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.121'>121</span>one of the many who had long ago put away all +pretence of respect in addressing their clergyman. +“There is nothing about them sheep belonging +to you.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“How so, friend? You are going to shear +the flock, I see.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ay: but this flock belongs to another parish. +They are only brought here to be washed. +You will find, for once, that some things are out +of your reach.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The vicar argued the point for some time; +could not understand the case; must send Peterson +to see into it; had been struck with the +non-appearance of his tithe of lambs this season; +and should expect the Lamberts to reconsider +the matter, and employ somebody to set out the +tithe of wool before he should pass that way again +in the evening, if they would not do it themselves. +He should be firm, as they had found, on other +occasions, he could be.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Alice persuaded him to leave the rest of his +argument to be finished in the evening, and ventured +to tell him, as soon as he began to walk +away with her, that she thought, and so did Mrs. +Byrne, that the Lamberts had taken that bit of +land in the next parish for the very purpose of +putting titheable produce out of his reach. If +he would ask no more than was asked in the +next parish, he would not be altogether cheated +of his lambs and his wool in this way. As usual, +she was told that she knew nothing about the +matter. She was sorry for it. She wished she +could do some good. It was much wanted. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.122'>122</span>When she now looked behind her, she saw that +many were laughing at the Lamberts’ victory, +and some sneering at her father; and the renewed +shouts and barkings and bleatings seemed to have +something of mockery in them.</p> + +<p class='c001'>No one was to be found behind the hedge +when Alice would have pointed out the peeper: +but the grass of the dry ditch was laid in a way +which showed that some one had been stretched +at length there. The vicar was not surprised. +Bread was so dear, this year, and wages in consequence +so high, that a great many people were +out of employment. He had never before seen +so many idle people lying about in the fields on +dry days, and under sheds in wet weather: and +Alice was aware that in no former season had the +vicar’s alms been so liberally distributed.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O dear! they have half made the hay, I do +believe. See how busy they are!” cried Alice, +when her party came in sight of the gay scene +where a long row of men and women were +tedding the grass; the women with their gowns +tucked up, and their arms made bare, and the +men uncoated, and frequently resting their rakes +against their shoulders to wipe their brows. The +usual pastimes of the hayfield were going on. +Children were shouting with delight, and rolling +one another in the grass, or pretending to make +hay with rakes far too unwieldy for their strength; +while the bigger girls who were sitting under the +shade of the hedge with babies on their knees, +looked on enviously, and began to wonder whether +their charge would not be very safe sprawling +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.123'>123</span>on the ground. Baskets and cans helped to +make a show in the corner with the discarded +coats, and the dog that sat as guard, perking its +head at every noise, and looking fully satisfied +with its own importance.</p> + +<p class='c001'>This dog alone seemed to undergo no alteration +when the vicar entered the field. The first +hay-maker who saw him sent the news along the +line, and laughter gave place to instant silence. +It came full into every one’s recollection that +this gentleman would claim a tenth of the fruits +of this day’s toil. Byrne was only one of many +whose wages were tithed. The children got up +from among the hay, and stared at him,—each +with thumb or finger in its mouth. They had +seen a pretty little chicken, or a yellow gosling +taken from the rest of the brood, in the vicar’s +name. The boys stood in greater awe of him +than the girls; for some wag had told them that +they had better take care how they played when +the vicar was abroad, lest he should tithe their +marbles. The deputy nurses under the hedge +elbowed each other, and laid their heads together +to whisper. They were telling how grandfather +taught them where to put the eggs they found +among the nettles, and never, on any pretence, +to count them; and how uncle forbade them ever +to tell how many pigs the sow farrowed of; and +how it was a shocking thing for a gentleman to +pretend to give charity, when all he had to give +came, mammy said, out of the labour of people +quite as poor as some he gave to.—The party +from the vicarage soon saw that there was no +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.124'>124</span>fear of the vicar’s hay being made for him. There +lay the grass, untouched. Moreover, it might +be observed that no hay was allowed to remain +where the vicar walked. As soon as he approached, +the labourers turned a shoulder or back +towards him, and whisked away the hay, so as +to leave him standing alone. He could not help +feeling this, and, as usual, he tried to conciliate +by kind words: as usual, he received impertinent +answers, and, as usual, comforted himself with +the thought that he was suffering for conscience’ +sake.</p> + +<p class='c001'>In these circumstances, it would not do to let +himself be “toppled.” Rachel and Margaret +were told that they must not expect it. They, +therefore, began to look about for rakes, in order +to obtain the second best amusement in their +power.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Papa, what shall we do for rakes?” asked +Alice. “The last time I made hay, Byrne lent +me a rake, and I thought we should certainly find +rakes with the hay.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Dear child, we should have thought of that. +It is a negligence of ours; for the fair construction +of the law is that the parson, or endowed +vicar, should, in making his own hay, provide +the instruments necessary for making it. But +these people have doubtless rakes to spare, and +will lend them.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>He tried whether it was so. He was sure the +labourers must have rakes to spare.—They looked +at one another, and nobody made answer.—He +was sure they would not let Alice be disappointed;—Alice +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.125'>125</span>came to make hay.—No one +looked up.—That little boy appeared very tired +with trailing his long rake; perhaps he would +lend it to Alice till he had rested himself.—The +child began, at his mother’s bidding, to make hay +more diligently than ever.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“See, dear child——” the vicar was beginning +to say, when Alice came up to entreat him to +ask no more favours. She had far rather not +make hay to-day: indeed, she did not wish it.—This +was more than Rachel and Margaret +could, for their part, aver. There is no saying +what aunt Lambert would have thought, if she +had seen how nearly they were crying. The +vicar perceived it, and, advising them to sit down +and rest themselves during his absence, said he +was going in search of rakes, and would bring +some from the shop, if not from a nearer place, +within an hour.</p> + +<p class='c001'>They did not rest themselves so much as a +minute and a half. They began showering grass +upon one another: but, the very instant that the +vicar disappeared from the field, more rakes were +offered than they could use. “Papa! Papa!” +cried Alice, in hopes of bringing her father back: +but one of the women held up her finger in a very +forbidding way; and Alice saw that if she was +to hope for hay-making, she must leave papa uncalled +for. She almost wished now that he +would not return.</p> + +<p class='c001'>He did return, however, when the work was +far advanced. Upon his own shoulder he brought +three rakes, which he offered,—not to the Quaker +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.126'>126</span>boys, who had arrived and were eager for them,—but +to the labourers or their children who had +accommodated Alice and her friends. But they +lay disregarded till the Quaker boys were allowed +to take them up, because it was clear that no one +else would.</p> + +<p class='c001'>The little folks had been offered some of the +contents of the baskets and cans; but had declined +eating and drinking till they should have +made something like a haycock on which to sit +and refresh themselves. Just in the right point +of time, appeared a messenger from Susan, with +a savoury-smelling basket, and two cool-looking +green bottles.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I am sure we may make our cock now,” +said Alice. “These people have made some of +theirs, you see, before they sat down to dinner.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And we can spread it out again afterwards, +if it is not dry,” Margaret observed.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Dost thou find thyself hungry with seeing +those people eating in the corner?” Rachel inquired.</p> + +<p class='c001'>So the basket was unpacked by some, while +others drew the grass together near the hedge, +and piled it up till it appeared the largest in the +field.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“One, two, three,—seven,—nine,—yes, papa, +ours is the tenth haycock. Do not you think +there will be another for us to make? Do not +you think there will be ten more at the other end +of the field?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The vicar feared that the remaining grass would +be made into seven, eight, or nine cocks, to avoid +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.127'>127</span>paying the church its due.—Alice was immediately +anxious to change the subject; and she made a +prodigious bustle,—calling one to sit here, and +pushing down another there, and raising the +youngest little fellow, in the nankeen frock, to sit +on the top of the haycock, as on a throne. While +she was carving the pie, the child called out +“Man! man!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Yes, dear; a great many men, and a great +many women too,” said Alice, over her task, supposing +the child was amused with the circle of +labourers.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Her father had not sat down. He was contemplating, +perhaps calculating, the size of the +field. His back was therefore turned to the party +of merry children. The next moment came something +which stunned them like a thunder-bolt,—the +report of fire-arms as if among them,—as if +out of the haycock. They sat immoveable, for a +second or two, till the vicar, who seemed to be +balancing himself on his feet, staggered, fell sideways, +and rolled over on his face. None who +heard Alice’s shriek ever forgot it. She alone +started up; her companions sat mute; the haymakers +were all looking, but they did not come. +How the poor thing pulled her father’s arm, in +the attempt to raise him! How the complaining +sound “I can’t! I can’t!” went to his heart,—which +had not ceased to beat. He tried to turn +himself, and did so.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Turn me, dear child; do not raise me,” he +said.</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_2.128'>128</span>“Come, come! O, why don’t you come?” +cried Alice, waving her arms towards the haymakers. +Her companions joined her in shouting +for help; and, at length, several men came forward. +Nobody asked who had done this; but +one offered to go for the doctor, and another for +her uncle Jerom, and a third for Susan. Her +father himself settled what should be done. His +brother and the surgeon were to be summoned, +and he would not be removed till they came; only +propped up with hay, so as to breathe a little +more easily. He asked if any one knew who had +done this?</p> + +<p class='c001'>“It is more like you can tell than I,” observed +the man he seemed particularly to address. +“Perhaps you may recollect having offended +somebody.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Alice sprang to the child on the haycock, and +asked where he had seen a man just now. The +child pointed to the other side of the haycock. +Somebody had been crouching there; and he +must have entered and departed through a hole in +the hedge, which seemed to have been made for +the purpose.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Half a dozen of the haymakers passed through +this hole; but they all came back with the same +story,—that no trace of any person was to be +found in the next field. Alice believed, in her impatience, +that she could have found the murderer if +she had been the pursuer; but who but she would +chafe her father’s clammy hands, and pass an arm +beneath his head, and fan him as his faintness increased? +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.129'>129</span>While listening, in hope that he would +speak, a distant sound smote her heart,—the +tolling of the church-bell. Her father felt the +throb of her heart, and smiled as he said,</p> + +<p class='c001'>“It is not so, dear child. They are not tolling +for me before I am dead. It is the lawsuit—I +was aware—I expected a letter to-day, +you know.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O yes; and I brought you out. I made you +come here when you wished to stay at home,” +cried she in agony.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“My dear child, it would have happened to-morrow +if not to-day. It would have happened +in my pulpit if not in this hay-field, Alice. Times +and seasons are not in our hands, my child.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The surgeon soon came, and pronounced that +his patient had judged rightly in refusing to be +removed. There were several hours of daylight +left.—Every one felt that this was the same as +saying that the vicar could not live till sunset.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Half the parish were in the field before Jerom +appeared. Every one looked grave, and some +changed countenance on witnessing Alice’s despair; +but there was no expression or semblance +of grief for the approaching departure of their +pastor. Everything was done that could be done; +but more as an office of humanity than of affection. +This was not lost on the dying man, and +must have caused him the keenest pang of all.—He +eagerly welcomed Jerom; for he had much +to say to him.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“This is a sad ending of my ministry,” said +he; “but it is by no means a new thing for +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.130'>130</span>Christ’s ministers to die in upholding the rights +of his church. God knows I have always been +willing; but I grieve, (may he pardon me!) that +he has seen fit to make crime the instrument.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Can we forgive the criminal?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I do from my heart, and have long done so. +Yes. I thought it would end in this way, and +prepared for it, as you will see when you come to +undertake the charge of Alice. You will go home +with her, Jerom, and stay till she has to leave the +vicarage. See that she has her full right,—that +she stays till she has fulfilled the month’s warning +of my successor, after his induction. Do not let +her remove a day earlier than the law obliges her. +I am urgent about this, because I believe the people +will run riot against the church as soon as I +am gone; and I am anxious that all decencies +and proprieties should be observed.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Jerom promised.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I have left enough, I trust, for her support; +and I bequeath to you the corn and other crops +in the ground. If my successor should be inducted +before the severance of any crops in which +he has an interest, you will, of course, aid him in +recovering his dues, as you would aid me. If not +inducted till after severance, he may be spared +the battle till next year. But, Jerom, be mindful +that the clergy must fight, side by side, like +brothers, in the present fearful state of the church, +when its rights are evaded, and its claims mocked +at, and its ministers murdered in the scene of +God’s bounties!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Jerom checked his vehemence; and the dying +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.131'>131</span>man presently declared himself willing to leave +the care of the church in the hands of Him who +founded it. He died without one suspicion that +the church for which he had sacrificed himself +was not indeed the church of Christ in all its +parts, as much as in the name which it has dared +to assume. Not a doubt entered his mind that +his devotion to his office and its claims was not +of the true apostolical character. It never occurred +to him, that he or his church might be answerable +for the degradation of Christianity and +the deterioration of morals in his parish.</p> + +<p class='c001'>He died,—just as the sun was declining over +the scene of God’s bounties, as the vicar had +truly described this place. There was a joyous +twittering of birds in the hedges, and the light +breeze which fanned the hair of the dead man +brought sweet scents to those who surrounded +him. The cattle in the meadows rose from their +grassy couch, and moved homewards as the shadows +of the willows lengthened. The sheep that +had been shorn stood bleating on the slope, or +beside the pool, as if wondering why the shearers +had left them alone after stripping them of the +fleeces that lay strewed upon the grass. The old +church looked beautiful, dressed in ivy, and +brightened with the latter sunshine, and overshadowing +the tombs around it. Yet this fair +scene was one of misery. The very church-bell +was tolled in malice. The hedge concealed a +murderer. The milk-maids and the shearers were +gone to gaze with more awe than love on the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.132'>132</span>passing away of him who should have taught +them a better evening thanksgiving than this. If +there was any acknowledgment of God and his +bounties, it was in one or two who made it in +humiliation rather than in joy. What kind of +Christianity could have been here taught, producing +such a result as this?—a Christianity mixed +up and defiled with superstition and worldliness; +and which could therefore no more bring forth +the peaceable fruits of righteousness than a sun +in eclipse can shed broad day.</p> + +<p class='c001'>As the body was carried home, all the people +who had not been in the field came out of their +houses. Mr. Mackintosh was seen standing at +his gate, looking grave, but unmoved. He had +something to say on the occasion, though there +was less of triumph in his tone than some who +knew him would have expected.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“This comes of making a clergyman a revenue +officer,” he muttered. “Poor Hellyer might +have made a very good clergyman, or a very +good revenue officer; but it is beyond any man’s +power to be both, without betraying the one trust +or the other.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>His housekeeper appeared,—tearful,—to ask +leave to bring Miss Alice into the house. She +ought not to be in such a crowd as that, in all +her grief, and none of her friends with her.—Leave +was eagerly given: but the housekeeper +hesitated.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Why don’t you go? Do not lose a moment.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“If I was sure, sir——if you would promise +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.133'>133</span>not to be very ready to tell Miss Alice that there +is no chance of her meeting her father any +more——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Certainly not. Certainly not. I am not +clear on the point myself, and never professed to +be so. It is only when they build up upon their +absurd superstitions——But go.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Alice was brought in, and was not long without +a friend by her side. Mrs. Lambert, who +had been too far off to hear the news, had observed +from the high summerhouse the crowd +just leaving the field, and moving along the +road. She had hastily descended, and had +joined the people just as they were passing the +church,—just in time to hear the remarks upon +the tolling of the bell.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ay; that’s for the gaining of his lawsuit,—and’ +much good it will do him now! They +say he was loth to come abroad this morning, +because he expected good news of his lawsuit.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“He did worse in beginning that lawsuit than +in coming abroad this morning. “’Tis my opinion +that it was that lawsuit that killed him.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Did ye hear his order about the wool-tithe, +as he went by the pool this morning? So proud! +He desired it might be set out for him against he +came back.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I hope, friend,” Mrs. Lambert had observed, +“that thou art observing these things rather as +a lesson on the frailness of life, than as taunting +the departed.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The man thought that if the vicar had been +paid like the dissenting ministers of the next +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.134'>134</span>town, and had given himself up to his office, +without extorting tithes, his life would have been +no more uncertain than any other man’s. He +should not say this the less now that the vicar +was being carried dead before him, than he had +always said it when the vicar was standing up in +the pulpit on Sundays, or handling fleeces on +Mondays.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Where were all Alice’s friends?—Uncle +Jerom was following the body. Mrs. Byrne was +nowhere to be seen. It was many days before +she visited Alice; and when she came, she could +do nothing but weep. Mrs. Byrne was remarked +by every one to be an altered woman +from that day.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Byrne was in the crowd; but Alice was afraid +of him, and always kept out of his way. Charles +and Joseph were in pursuit of the murderer,—whom, +however, they could not find. It +is believed to this day, that he was harboured by +some one in the neighbourhood; or he could +not have evaded the strict search instituted by +the magistrates, as soon as the event became +known to them.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I am glad you are come, Mrs. Lambert,” +said Mr. Mackintosh, when she made her appearance, +after delaying a moment to recover an +appearance of calmness. “I am glad you are +come. We do not know what to do with this +poor child.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Thou hast not the heart to attack her faith +at such a moment; and thou dost not know how +to speak on matters of faith, but in the way of +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.135'>135</span>attack. Is that it, friend Mackintosh?—I agree +with thee, that there is no worldly comfort which +will to-day soothe this poor child.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“All you say about my fondness for attack +may be very true; but see whether it has half +the effect in this parish of the superstition of its +pastor,—or of the system which made him its +pastor:—I care not which may claim the honour +of doing most mischief.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I grant that thy principles have led to no +murder here, and that the vicar would have been +wise to ask himself, while censuring thee, whether +he was not playing thy game for thee better +than thou couldst do it for thyself. But, friend, +that is no excuse for thy being as intolerant to +others as the church has been to thee. Between +you, religion (or, as thou wouldst say, +morals) has had so little chance, that I would +not advise either of you to boast of the other’s +delinquencies, lest the argument should end in +the display of thine own.—I will only just mention +the name of Byrne, as a sanction to my +charge.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You do not think he is the——” And Mr. +Mackintosh’s countenance now showed some +emotion.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I have heard no one named as the murderer,” +Mrs. Lambert quietly replied.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mr. Mackintosh presently repented having allowed +Alice to be brought in. It made him +completely wretched. Whether her grief was +ungovernable, as at first, or mild and reasonable, +as it was when Mrs. Lambert had been with her +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.136'>136</span>awhile, it was equally painful to him. He +could do nothing with minds but question and +taunt them; and here, where the mind was too +childish to be questioned to any purpose, and too +much harassed to allow of taunting, there was +no inducement to him to bear to witness the suffering. +When he was tired of being first +ashamed of his own helplessness, and then of +being cross with his housekeeper, (who would +not quarrel with him, because she saw he was +trying to carry off some troublesome tenderness) +he seized his hat, and walked out.—Mrs. Lambert +observed, that he went in the direction of +Byrne’s cottage.</p> + +<h3 id='ch2.8' class='c016'><span class='sc'>Chapter VIII.</span><br> <br>BENEFIT OF CLERGY.</h3> + +<p class='c017'>Sir William Hood (who was travelling abroad) +supposed, like everybody else, that the vicar was +alone to blame for what had happened. Nobody +but those on the spot,—none but the sufferers,—dreamed +of finding fault with the system +under which precisely the same grievances might +recur. They saw but too well that the virtues of +the clergyman must, under such a system, injure +himself or them. If his virtues were like those +of the late vicar, centring in zeal for the church, +he would oppress the parish as the late vicar had +done. If they consisted of disinterestedness +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.137'>137</span>and mercy, they must injure himself in his +worldly interests. The same temptations must +also again beset the parishioners;—temptation +to withhold the extreme dues of a moderate +pastor, and to defraud a strict one. The sufferers +agreed, in short, with him who said of the tithe +system, “It has made the clergyman’s income +to fall with his virtues, and to rise with his bad +qualities; just as it has made the parishioner to +lose by being ingenuous, and to save by dishonesty.”—They +mourned over their liability to +a repetition of their grievances; and their only +comfort was in the hope that Peterson would +not be again appointed to rule over them.</p> + +<p class='c001'>In this hope they were not disappointed. It +was thought fitting by the ordinary and impropriator, +that the circumstances of the scene +should be changed as much as possible, in order +that future irritation might be avoided; and Peterson +received notice that his services would +not be required by the future incumbent. He +quarrelled with the vicar’s executor, before going +out of office, respecting the amount of rent due +for tithes received up to the day of the owner’s +death, which unfortunately left room for a dispute +of this kind, from not having happened on +a quarter-day. The vicar’s tithes were collected +in kind by the churchwardens, for the benefit of +the future incumbent, the services of the curate +being meantime paid out of the fund. Sir William +Hood appointed another agent to collect +his tithes.</p> + +<p class='c001'>During Jerom’s residence at the vicarage,—that +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.138'>138</span>is, during the few weeks which Alice’s +friends thought long enough for the assertion of +that dignity on which her father had bestowed +some of his last thoughts,—it occurred to many +people that Jerom would like very much to be +the future incumbent of this vicarage.—Jerom +did indeed wish it. The allotment of new land, +in which he had invested his share of the bounty, +did not answer. The tenant did not, he thought, +cultivate it properly; and he had no influence +over the tenant, whom he had allowed to build on +the ground, and from whom he had no means of +purchasing the new erections. He was almost +as poor as before he obtained the bounty; and +could not well have got through the year but for +his brother’s legacy of the little crops that were +in the vicarage-ground.—He must get on, however, +on this little wealth, as well as he could; +for the parishioners had no intention of allowing +anybody connected with the late vicar to be +their pastor. They gave Jerom to understand +this very plainly.</p> + +<p class='c001'>That wealth of his was indeed but small. The +season turned out even worse than was expected; +and so generally, that its effects were felt by +every class in society. Wages had been rising +all the year, and this occasioned a further rise in +the price of produce; and these things all together +proved to such as had eyes to see, the essential +vices of the tithe-tax. Never had there +been a greater outlay with a smaller per centage +of gain to the cultivator than this season: never +had tithe been so expensive to him as this year, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.139'>139</span>when he could least afford it: never had the labourers, +whose increased wages would not suffice +to buy them a sufficiency of bread, so enviously +regarded the increase in the revenue of the +church;—an increase which arose from the +same cause as their privations. Many were now +convinced who had not been convinced before, +that the bread-eaters of Britain pay a capitation +tax to the church. The average consumption of +grain being commonly allowed to be equivalent +to a quarter of wheat a head, wheat pays a shilling +a bushel as tithe, when wheat sells at 80<i>s.</i>; +so that, at that price, the church exacts a capitation-tax +of 8<i>s.</i>; it being clear that 72<i>s.</i> would be +a remunerating price to the grower, if he had +no tithe to pay. Many now allowed, who had +not been fond of the subject before, that it is +unjust that the religion of little more than half +the nation should absorb a larger portion of the +national resources, in proportion as these resources +fail. Many now hinted, that if the +preachers of the gospel had no power to feed the +hungry with loaves in the wilderness, they ought +not to be entitled to exact larger tribute from +their hearers, the more their hearers hungered.</p> + +<p class='c001'>There were many dreary days this autumn; +but it was on one of the very dreariest that Joseph +ran out of the farm-house to invite his landlord +to shelter till the storm should be over. “Indeed,” +he added, “we wish particularly to speak to +thee on a matter of some importance.” Mr. +Mackintosh was not so fond of a pouring rain as +to be unwilling to let his horse be led to a stable, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.140'>140</span>and himself to a crackling wood fire, from which +orderly children moved away to make room for +him.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I hope you have not heard of another suspected +murderer,” said he. “I am quite tired of +receiving intimations on that head, convinced as +I am that we shall never be any wiser.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“We have nothing to say to thee of any new +suspicion: but why shall we never be any +wiser?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Because we all have a pretty clear notion +that there are many who could tell if they would: +and if they have not told yet, notwithstanding +the fair opportunity that has been given +them, and the high reward offered, it is scarcely +likely that they will change their minds now. +Every new information is meant to put us on a +false scent, depend upon it. I hope the people +will leave off playing such a farce. We have +all our own guesses, I dare say, as to which was +the fellow, and where he might have been found +the next night, and why a stranger should have +been the one to deal the blow. He considered +himself perhaps, as others have done before him, +as filling an office like the hangman’s,—putting +the finish to a criminal.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I call this unprofitable talk,” observed the +plain Mrs. Lambert. “Wilt thou hear the favour +my sons have to ask of thee?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mr. Mackintosh was not fond of being asked +favours; but he could not refuse to listen, in return +for shelter, warmth, and good ale. The +young men were very urgent to be released from +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.141'>141</span>their agreement about the Quarry Wood farm. +Three years only of their lease had run; but +their losses had been so great that they earnestly +desired to give it up.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mr. Mackintosh thought he had great reason +to complain;—so much reason that he did not +feel himself bound to consider the interests of +the Lamberts in any such way as this. Was it +not a subject of complaint that the land was ill-managed? +Might not any one see at a glance +how far inferior its condition was to that of the +Abbey Farm?</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And whose fault was that?” Charles asked. +“Did it not arise from the one being titheable, +and the other, tithe-free?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Which was known to thee when thou gavest +thy money for it, I suppose,” added the mother.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I would really advise thee,” interposed Joseph, +“to find another tenant who does not +labour under our scruples regarding the tithe, +and who has therefore a better chance of making +the undertaking answer.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You seriously advise me. I really am much +obliged to you, Mr. Joseph.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I seriously advise thee,—for this reason: +that if we do contrive to pay thee rent, it can +only be by cropping and exhausting the best +land on the farm in a manner which will not please +thee, but to which we shall be driven. Therefore, +if thou canst find a capitalist who will diligently +set himself to contend about the tithe in a +way which we, for conscience sake, cannot do, +it may be equally for thy interest and ours.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_2.142'>142</span>“If you choose to find such an one, perhaps I +may listen to what you have to say.—But I +won’t promise.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Why? does it give thee pleasure to hold +us to a bad bargain?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Or to have my sons for tenants, perhaps,” +said Mrs. Lambert, who sometimes accused herself +of being a partial mother.—Mr. Mackintosh +nodded at her, and said he had so little to complain +of with respect to the Abbey Farm, that +he would offer this much;—to let the young men +have the Quarry Wood Farm rent-free for the +remainder of the lease, they bearing the charges +on the land.</p> + +<p class='c001'>They were obliged by this offer of compromise, +but as far from hopeful as ever. They +had much rather give up the undertaking altogether: +but Mr. Mackintosh would go no further. +He had every reason to believe that the +farm would not let rent-free, on condition of the +tenant paying the taxes, civil and ecclesiastical.</p> + +<p class='c001'>The lease must run out before it changed +hands, even at the risk of its being left in bad +condition,—half neglected and half exhausted.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Come, cheer up, sons!” said their mother. +“Gloomy faces are not becoming in us who +profess to be more free of the world than some +others. You know I never encouraged high +notions in you when we thought we were growing +rich; and I will not praise you for being low-spirited +while you are doing your best——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“For these children, as well as yourselves,” observed +Mr. Mackintosh.</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_2.143'>143</span>“These children will grow up to take care of +themselves, and help us in turn, if we want help. +And before that time, let us hope, other +Christians will find, as we do, that they can +worship without taking the bread out of one +another’s mouths. There will be more people +willing to worship then, I fancy. My sons may +live to see the gospel esteemed as able to support +itself as when Christ preached it.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And you may live to see it, ma’am. It is +an experiment which cannot be very long delayed +in this country,—as I believe a large +majority of thinkers agree in deciding, however +they may differ as to what is superstition and +what is not.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Thou wilt not find many who will agree +with thee, friend, that there must be superstition +in believing in things unseen;—no, not if thou +shouldst live a thousand years. But thou art +pretty secure of good company in declaring some +things to be superstition which were so a thousand +years ago,—such as asking in God’s name +for gifts that are not gifts, and setting up a +priesthood in Christ’s name, when, if Christ said +one thing more plainly than another, it was that +there should be no more priesthoods.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And to suppose that men will care for any +matters of faith, be they what they may, when +the bread of these men is taken to uphold that +faith—it is folly!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Worse folly than any faith can be, I agree +with thee in thinking. This is what we call +shutting up the kingdom of heaven against men. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2.144'>144</span>It occurs to me, friend, that though thou hast a +taste for being singular, thou art of the same +mind with some who took these matters to heart +very long ago. I ask thy pardon for observing +(I know thou dost not like to agree with any +thing in Scripture,)—that some one said before +thy time and mine, that the Lord is not pleased +with offerings, such as thousands of rams and +calves of a year old. He had rather have justice +and mercy. I wish the church could be persuaded +to go back to this old Scripture.”</p> + +<hr class='c023'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> + <div class='nf-center'> + <div><span class='small'>London: Printed by <span class='sc'>William Clowes</span>, Duke-street, Lambeth.</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='pbb'> + <hr class='pb c000'> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c004'> + <div><a id='work3'></a><span class='large'>ILLUSTRATIONS</span></div> + <div class='c000'><span class='small'>OF</span></div> + <div class='c000'><em class='gesperrt'><span class='xlarge'>TAXATION.</span></em></div> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class='c018'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> + <div class='nf-center'> + <div>No. III.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c007'>THE <br> <br> JERSEYMEN MEETING.</h2> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c006'> + <div><span class="blackletter">A Tale.</span></div> + <div class='c000'>BY</div> + <div class='c000'><span class='large'>HARRIET MARTINEAU.</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class='c020'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c009'> + <div>LONDON:</div> + <div>CHARLES FOX, 67, PATERNOSTER-ROW.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class='c008'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c011'> + <div>1834.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c004'> + <div>LONDON:</div> + <div>Printed by <span class='sc'>William Clowes</span>,</div> + <div><span class='small'>Duke Street, Lambeth.</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c004'> + <div>THE</div> + <div class='c000'>JERSEYMEN MEETING.</div> + <div class='c024'><span class="blackletter">A Tale.</span></div> + <div class='c024'>BY</div> + <div class='c024'>HARRIET MARTINEAU.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class='c020'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c009'> + <div>LONDON:</div> + <div>CHARLES FOX, 67, PATERNOSTER-ROW.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class='c008'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c011'> + <div>1834.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='pbb'> + <hr class='pb c000'> +</div> +<h3 class='c016'>CONTENTS.</h3> + +<table class='table3'> +<colgroup> +<col class='colwidth7'> +<col class='colwidth76'> +<col class='colwidth15'> +</colgroup> + <tr> + <td class='c013'> </td> + <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>Chap.</span></td> + <td class='c015'><span class='sc'>Page</span></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c013'>1.</td> + <td class='c014'>A Phenomenon</td> + <td class='c015'><a href='#ch3.1'>1</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c013'>2.</td> + <td class='c014'>A Legacy</td> + <td class='c015'><a href='#ch3.2'>18</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c013'>3.</td> + <td class='c014'>Life in Lambeth</td> + <td class='c015'><a href='#ch3.3'>40</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c013'>4.</td> + <td class='c014'>The Phenomenon again</td> + <td class='c015'><a href='#ch3.4'>61</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c013'>5.</td> + <td class='c014'>An Economical Project</td> + <td class='c015'><a href='#ch3.5'>76</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c013'>6.</td> + <td class='c014'>Lessons in Loyalty</td> + <td class='c015'><a href='#ch3.6'>93</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c013'>7.</td> + <td class='c014'>Harder Lessons in Loyalty</td> + <td class='c015'><a href='#ch3.7'>109</a></td> + </tr> +</table> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c004'> + <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_3.1'>1</span><span class='large'>THE JERSEYMEN MEETING.</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<h3 id='ch3.1' class='c016'><span class='sc'>Chapter I.</span> <br> <br> A PHENOMENON.</h3> + +<p class='c017'>The moral sense of some people is shocked by +the sentiment that it is pleasant to stand in safety +on the shore to watch the effects of a storm at +sea; but perhaps none were ever found to dispute +the pleasantness of standing idle on the +heights above a shore to watch the proceedings +of busy people at sea. There are parts of the +coast of Jersey where this luxury may be enjoyed +in absolute perfection; where not only the features +of nature are full of beauty, but where the +spectator is unmolested by the presence of any +less happy than himself, and where the industry +which he witnesses is sure of its due reward.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Such a station is the height of Anne Ville, +which overlooks the thriving village of Gorey +in Jersey. It is luxury to sit on the remains of +the Druidical temple there, and think of nothing +less animating than the congregation of objects +near; the bay of St. Catherine behind, where +green lanes lead from the very brink of the tide, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.2'>2</span>each to its own snug farm-house and blossoming +orchard on the hill-side, and the solitary tower of +Archirondel, surrounded on its rocky station by +the blue waters of the bay: close at hand, Geoffry’s +rock, from which, instead of criminals being +cast into the sea, as it is said they once were, +white sea-birds take their flight, scared by the +laughter of children near their haunts: the noble +castle of Mont Orgueil overhanging the waters, +and casting upon them the shadow of its ruined +battlements, while its mantle of ivy waves in the +evening breeze:—the fishing village below, sending +out and receiving back the oyster boats which +throng about the pier in the season;—the villages +on the distant coast of France, when the western +sun lights them up into brilliant contrast with +the intervening expanse of dark blue; and far +beyond these, on the extreme horizon, the dim +cathedral of Coutances. To spend a May +evening in the centre of this scene is a luxury +to a stranger whose heart is not, like that of a +native, in one of the farmhouses in the interior, +or among the oysters on the beach below. A +stranger is pretty secure, however, of having this +Druidical seat to himself on a May evening. So +many repairs are wanted for the boats, so much +sail-cloth and cordage is called for, and so large +a portion of supplies is required for the little +market of Gorey, towards the close of the oyster +season, that the men are more likely to be +guiding their creaking carts through the bowery +lanes, and the maidens carrying down the hills +the produce of their far-famed cows, than to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.3'>3</span>be looking abroad from the heights of Anne +Ville.</p> + +<p class='c001'>On such an evening, however, a few seasons +ago, some one might be seen keeping a look-out +from the poquelaye, (as the Jersey people call a +Druidical remain like that at Anne Ville,) whom +no one could doubt to be a native. He was a +young man of about twenty, whose sallow face +bore testimony to his diet being that of a Jersey +farmhouse, while his knitted garments pointed +him out as the son of one of the thrifty dames of +the island who look suspiciously on all manufactures +which threaten to supersede the work of +their own hands. Aaron le Brocq looked indolent +enough as he leaned with his elbows upon the +great stone, and his dull eye wandered over the +ocean, never once lighting up when a sail caught +the yellow ray which slanted from the west: but +Aaron came hither on business. Never was cordage +so much wanted as now; and Aaron’s stock +of hemp was exhausted; and day by day he +came hither to watch for the arrival of some one +of the friendly vessels which must be on the way +to supply his need. There were barks innumerable +within sight; but even Aaron’s dull eye +could perceive, almost at a glance, that none of +those near were what he wanted. Besides the +native-built boats, there were many English +vessels sailing hither and thither. Several which +had been accustomed to navigate the broad, +smooth Medway, were now tossing and turning +in the currents and eddies caused by the ridges +of low rocks which nearly surround the island, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.4'>4</span>and have proved its surest defence during the +wars of the two countries between whose grasp +it seems to lie. French homeward-bound vessels +were gliding between the shores; and a few of +other countries, bringing supplies as much needed +as hemp, were crossing Grouville Bay on their +way to St. Heliers. Aaron would go to St. Heliers +too, in the morning, if he saw no vessel before +dark which might be supposed to come from +the Baltic. He would go and learn what other +people thought of this scarcity of hemp.</p> + +<p class='c001'>It is to be supposed that Aaron fell into a +reverie about this projected trip to the port, and +that he was thinking more of the market-place +or custom-house of St. Heliers than of anything +within ken on sea or land; for he started as if at +the touch of the conjuring rod that he was taught +to fear in his childhood, when his friend, Charles +Malet, laid one hand on his shoulder, while with +the other he pointed southwest, saying,</p> + +<p class='c001'>“There will be no time for growing drowsy at +the poquelaye after sunset to-morrow, if yonder +vessel be from Riga, as they say she is. She will +be in port as soon as we can get there, and perhaps +we may find her cargo all gone in the +scramble.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Aaron was on his feet in a moment, wondering +how his thoughts could have wandered away so +far from the Baltic as to let a sail from that +quarter cross the wide bay, and almost disappear +behind La Roque Point unperceived by him. But +there were many things besides hemp which this +ship might be bringing to Jersey; tallow for the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.5'>5</span>candles, or oil for the soap which some of the +islanders were enabled to manufacture for a far +larger market than their own; or corn for home +consumption, while they sent their own to England. +This may seem to some an ingenious +project, designed to benefit the shipping interest. +To permit ships from Russia to sail by the coasts +of England, and land their corn in Jersey and +Guernsey, from whence an equal supply has at +last to be brought to England, seems like a benevolent +scheme to give employment to some +who would otherwise be paupers. It looks like +an approach towards the fulfilment of the aspirations +of the ship-owner, that every merchant-vessel +should be permitted to sail three times +round the island of Great Britain before landing +its cargo. But, for whomsoever the plan was +first devised,—whether for the ship or land owners +of Britain,—its effect is to enrich the inhabitants +of Jersey and Guernsey at the expense of the +bread-eaters of England. These islands are +exempt from the bread-tax, as from all the bad +taxes of Great Britain, except tithes. Their +inhabitants, being allowed to buy wheat, without +restriction, wherever they please, can purchase it +at 45<i>s.</i> per quarter, while that which their fields +produce is bought by the English labourer at +some price between 60<i>s.</i> and 70<i>s.</i> The benefit +which accrues to the Jerseyman is the difference +between the price he pays, and that which he receives +when the amount of duty is deducted;—a +benefit marked enough to induce him to call for +supplies from a distant shore, and to retain the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.6'>6</span>merchants of his own port in his service. No +wonder that any foreign vessel which passed +within sight of the heights above Gorey might +be supposed to be bringing corn to the port of +St. Heliers. No wonder that Aaron was bewildered +in a manner which would have stamped +him a half-idiot in England, when a perfectly new +incident presently occurred.</p> + +<p class='c001'>As soon as the sea became dusky in the twilight, +the two friends turned their backs upon it, +in order to pursue their way to the dwelling of +Aaron’s father,—a small farmhouse in the valley +on the other side the first ridge of hills which +stretched north and south. They had not proceeded +far over the down when they were accosted +by a person whose appearance excited their +wonder, while his business surprised them yet +more. Scarcely half-dressed, and unattended, +though he was blind, he was a mystery to +Aaron.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What sort of charity do you wish me to show +you?” he asked, in answer to the beggar’s petition.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What you please, sir,” replied the beggar: +“but I have not had a morsel to-day, and I have +no place to lay my head in to-night.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“How happens that? I’m afraid you have +displeased Mr. De la Mare?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Mr. who, please, sir?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Mr. De la Mare, the hospital governor. You +don’t know who he is? How came you here, +then?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Malet had seen more of the world than Aaron. +He suggested that the beggar might have come +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.7'>7</span>over in some of the oyster vessels from Kent,—perhaps +even from London; and that he might +never have set foot in St. Heliers.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Would he get into the hospital among the +blind? Aaron would take him to St. Heliers the +next morning, and try to procure him admission. +Stephen did not exactly wish this. He could +find his way about, and did not like being shut +up. If the gentleman would only bestow a little +charity, that was all he asked;—by charity, he +meant a little money for present use.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But what will you do when it is gone?” +asked Aaron. “You cannot work, I suppose, +without the use of your sight.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Stephen (for so the beggar called himself) had +not been able to do a stroke of work these ten +years. He trusted to the charitable and humane +to take care of him.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But you will not take their charity. You +refuse the hospital! I don’t see what you would +have.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“He would live by begging, I dare say,” observed +Malet, by way of elucidation.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What! by asking every day for bread! I +never heard of such a thing.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Charles Malet had once been told that this was +a very common thing in England. Besides the +number of poor who were admitted into charitable +houses, like those at St. Heliers, there were many +who did not know, any morning of the year, +where they should rest at night. Aaron thought +this a miserable lot; but Stephen the beggar +seemed wonderfully cheerful under it. He did +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.8'>8</span>not look ashamed, as a native would have done, +of his being only half-clothed;—perhaps the not +seeing his tatters had something to do with this. +He had certainly been humming a tune, as he +ambled along, when the young men were approaching +him; and even now, though he spoke +of hunger, he seemed ready to break out into +singing or joking in the intervals of the piteous +looks he assumed. Aaron, as a matter of course, +took him home, but felt rather uncomfortable in +doing so. He was afraid that his father might +be displeased if it should turn out that the beggar +was playing off a hoax; and that his mother +might be alarmed if Stephen should prove a halfwit, +or to be under a spell; and Aaron could +scarcely doubt the one or the other to be the +case. He took Stephen by the hand, however, +and led him on; not failing to remark how marvellously +his charge happened to escape hurting +his ill-shod feet against the large sharp stones +which lay in the road.</p> + +<p class='c001'>An opportunity occurred of introducing the +stranger to a part of the family before reaching +the farmhouse; an opportunity which Malet was +the first to discern. Jersey is a land of trotting +brooks. As every dwelling has hills somewhere +near it, every dwelling has a stream within reach. +There was one at the bottom of Le Brocq’s orchard; +and there were the women of the family +assembled this evening, when the young men +crossed the ridge and descended into the valley—assembled +on an occasion of great importance. +It was the first day of washing week; and as +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.9'>9</span>washing week came but twice a year, it was sure +to be a busy time. The profusion of snow-white +caps spread on the grass formed the chief light +in the landscape, for the grey stone farmhouse, +roofed with dark thatch, nestled dimly among the +trees; so that even if all had not been alike mantled +with ivy, the dwelling would scarcely have +been discernible. The brook was more heard +than seen, and the high ferns on the opposite side +presented the appearance of a smooth green carpet. +But few blossoms remained in the orchard +to distinguish it from the oak copse which sheltered +it towards the east. Little could be distinctly +seen but the heaps of linen on the bank, +and the moving figures beside it. They were the +two daughters of Le Brocq, and a damsel, the +servant at the farmhouse. They were finishing +their work for the night; and when Malet ran +down to them with a lover’s speed, he found +Louise rising from her knees beside the little +pool which had been her station all day, and declaring +that she could see no longer, and that it +was time to go home to supper. Anna was meanwhile +spreading more linen on the ferns, where it +might be bleached by the morning sun; and Victorine, +the maid, put the materials of their next +day’s work in an appointed place, among the roots +of an old oak. The brook, meanwhile, rippled +and splashed, carrying down the defilements of +soap which had offended it all day, and washing +out the pools in which the work had been performed. +Stephen made bold to ask his conductor +what all this was about, and to declare what +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.10'>10</span>shameful waste it would be thought in England +to wash linen in a running stream, where as much +soap would be lost as would buy much of the +linen. Stephen was right; but this was a consideration +which the Jersey people had little occasion +to regard. Their soap was not taxed either +in its materials or its manufacture; and few articles +can be obtained with more ease or less cost +than soap, when this is the case. Any person +in Jersey was at liberty to buy oil or tallow direct +from the Baltic ships in the ports, without asking +the leave of any custom-house officer. If he +chose to buy the cheap potash furnished by the +interminable Russian forests, he had no duty to +pay. If he found sea-weed enough on the nearest +shore to supply this as well as other purposes, +he was subjected to no other interference than the +injunction to cut it at the right season. He +might make his soap when and where, and in +whatever quantities he pleased; and the cost of +it was next to nothing. No one there was obliged +to sigh either at his children’s dirt, or at the cost +of keeping them clean. The amount of soap used +was little more thought of than that of the water +which ran past his own door.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Stephen seemed much disposed to join the +group beside the brook,—another proof to Aaron +that he was not aware of the state of his costume. +He was not allowed to descend, as he wished; +but must submit to be led across a back field, +and through the orchard, that he might reach the +house, and be clothed before he was presented to +the family. Aaron could not think of showing +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.11'>11</span>him in a state of such degradation as that in which +he had found him.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Who is this?” inquired Le Brocq, who was +drawing cider from the cask which was niched +near the door. “How can De la Mare let any +one come to such a pass?” Then, as Stephen +came within hearing, the farmer told him he +should be welcome to supper and shelter for the +night, and that he might depend on being forwarded +to St. Heliers the next morning. In an +aside, he desired his wife to fetch an old garment +of his, wherewith to clothe Stephen, instead of +using any of Aaron’s good clothes for the purpose.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mrs. Le Brocq wanted to know when the girls +were coming. It was too dark for them to see +what they were about; and the soup was ready; +and she was sure Louise would be over-tired if +she staid at her work so long. She was comforted +with the news that they would presently +come in, and that Malet was with Louise, to take +care of her.</p> + +<p class='c001'>By the time that Stephen was dressed, and +seated somewhat nearer than he liked to the great +fire of vraic (a sea-weed which is used, first for +fuel and then for manure, in Jersey), the young +washerwomen appeared. Mrs. Le Brocq and +Anna took charge of the supper table, while +Louise, who was, or was fancied to be, rather +delicate, was tended by her lover, and Victorine +was at every one’s call, besides having to lay down +a bed for Stephen, as the hour of rest approached.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Stephen seemed less disposed for mirth at the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.12'>12</span>supper table than when he was first met in his +destitute condition. Hungry as he was, he could +not eat the soup, made of lard and cabbage, +which the rest of the party seemed to relish as if +it had been made of gravy meat, and peas. After +many attempts, he gave it up; and was so nauseated +that he had little relish left for the bread, +cheese, and cider with which Mrs. Le Brocq +compassionately supplied him. He was sensible +of the incessant motion of knitting needles all +around him, in every interval of eating. All the +four women were indeed knitting when doing +nothing else; and Stephen felt rather awkward +in the midst of so much industry. Nobody was +very merry; there seemed to be some cause of +discontent among the party, though Aaron showed +that he was well pleased at the prospect of obtaining +on the morrow the materials which would +enable him to supply his customers with ropes.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I am glad some luck has befallen you,” +observed the mother, “since Charles is never to +have any. I wonder whether there be another +lad in the island so shiftless as he; to have +courted my Louise, and not have a home to take +her to.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Le Brocq shook his head and muttered; Charles +looked abashed, and Anna said, hesitatingly, and +only loud enough for her sister and Charles to +hear, that such ill-fortune could not, she trusted, +last long. Such a thing had never happened +before, she believed, as a sober man being disappointed +of a settlement three times over. She +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.13'>13</span>hoped it would please God that the hand of the +diligent should make riches, and that Charles +would not lose heart.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Charles had lost heart many times lately; and +now he left his supper unfinished, and sat pondering +the charms of the various cottages of +which he had missed the acquisition. He was +not in poverty, being employed with Aaron in +ropemaking, but the parents of Louise would +not let him have her till he could take her to a +home as comfortable as that which she must +leave. He began sometimes to fear that he +should be sent about his business, as being no +proper match for Louise. Stephen made such +advances of sympathy as the little conversation +enabled him to do. He took up his glass of +cider, and turning to Malet, begged to drink to +the young man “finding something to set his +hand to,” and to his “carrying the day with his +lass, at any rate,” and he should be pleased to be +at the wedding.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Malet thanked him kindly; and Stephen went +on to suggest that it was a thousand pities to lose +heart and let the time go by. Charles should +do as people in England did, marry when the +young lady was in the mind, and see what would +come of trusting.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And what comes of it in England?” inquired +Malet, lending an attentive ear.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Stephen made rather a lame story of the happy +consequences of this sort of trust, except on the +point that he was quite sure of,—that there was +always the parish to depend on at last. He +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.14'>14</span>helped out his explanation with a song about +love and banishing care, which Malet would have +ventured to praise very highly, but that Mrs. +Le Brocq began to look angry. She muttered +something about seeing Charles, some day or +other, borrowing another man’s coat and craving +another man’s supper, and then singing songs +about not caring.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Charles showed by a gesture that there was +the main difference between Stephen and himself, +that the one was blind and the other not. Le +Brocq was offended by his wife’s gross breach of +hospitality; Louise was crying; and all went +wrong. Stephen took the liberty of beginning +another song by which he hoped to make every +body laugh and grow good-humoured; but before +it had had time to operate, he was obliged +to break off by the entrance of some person +whose horse he had heard stop before the door.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“If you are come to supper, Mr. Janvrin,” +observed Le Brocq, “I am afraid you will not +enjoy yourself as we could wish. If you had +come half-an-hour earlier——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I am come on business; and when I tell +you that I was at St. John’s this morning, and +am now come from St. Martin’s, you will guess +what I am here for.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Well; out with it! What is in hand now?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Why, you know very well. You heard of the +rate laid upon you and your neighbours, for the +help of the government in the new improvements.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But I offered horse and cart and man for a +week. That is enough for my share, surely.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“For the new road. Yes. But the States +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.15'>15</span>call for money, too, as you must be aware: and +here is what you must pay,” showing his list.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Le Brocq said something about the many calls +on people for money in these days,—what with +daughters marrying, and governments making +new roads. Nevertheless, he sent Aaron for his +money-bag, and counted out the sum, while the +tax-gatherer refreshed himself with the remains +of the supper. When Stephen heard the clink of +the coin, he observed that the people in his country +would never submit to pay taxes in this manner. +It would be as much as the tax-gatherer’s life would +be worth to ride about the country, taking money +out of people’s pockets like a footpad. Janvrin +wondered what the gentleman could mean; and +Aaron inquired whether the English paid no +taxes.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Pay taxes! to be sure they do. How should +such a fine country get on without taxes? +But, bless your soul, paying taxes there is the +easiest thing in the world. There’s no trouble +whatever in it. The government takes all the +trouble, and the people don’t so much as know +when they are paying taxes.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The family all thought this must be charming; +and Aaron whispered to Malet that, after all, it +might be better for him to go to England: for +taxes were a consideration to a man who was +going to marry. But Malet wished to hear a +little more first. How was it that taxation was +such an easy matter in England?</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, I only know I never paid a tax in my life. +I have not paid a tax these ten years. Why, yes: +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.16'>16</span>some people pay them; but it is only by giving +a trifle more,—nothing worth speaking of,—for +things that they buy.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Like our duty on spirits,” observed the collector, +nodding to Malet, who was all ear.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“That is a very good plan,” observed Le +Brocq. “I always liked that plan of laying a +tax on spirits.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Well you may,” observed the collector, +laughing: “for I believe you have never had +a gallon of spirits in your house since its roof +was on.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, it’s a wise tax,” replied the farmer. “So +the government in England is kept up by a tax +on spirits.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“They must drink a deal of spirits,” said +Malet, “or there must be other dues;—harbour +fees, like ours, or the like.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Stephen did not deny that the spirit-tax was not +the only one: but whatever the others might be, +it was only laying a farthing or two here and +there which nobody minded paying; and which, +indeed, none knew that they paid. What were +the taxed articles? Malet inquired.—O, there +were several. Lace and silk stockings, he had +heard: and a gentleman in Kent was saying that +hops paid some sort of charge. Malet and Louise +looked at each other. This would suit them exactly. +They had never seen silk stockings or lace, +except in the shop-windows at St. Heliers; and +they drank cider.—Well: anything else? Any +common articles? Mr. Janvrin asked. Bread or +sugar, timber or linen, soap or tobacco? Any +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.17'>17</span>of these? Why, some of them: but the merest +trifle! and it was uncommonly pleasant to live in +a free sort of way, without any tax-gatherer to +come to the cottage-door, and ask for so many +shillings out of the poor man’s earnings.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Uncommonly pleasant,” repeated Le Brocq, +with a sigh, as Janvrin pocketed the money on +the table, and made an entry in his book. “I +think I shall ask one of the Constables to speak +to the Bailly, and try whether we can’t get the +States to think of taxing us as easily as the English. +An uncommonly pleasant way it must be, +to be sure.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Uncommonly pleasant,” observed Janvrin, +“if the poor man does not pay pounds without +knowing it, instead of shillings when he is asked. +Your guest said something about footpads: but +I had rather be robbed by a footpad than by a +pickpocket.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The girls asked their mother what was a footpad, +and what was a pickpocket. She frowned, and +whispered to them not to ask: it was something +very bad indeed. They blushed, and could only +hope that nobody had heard their question.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Upon Stephen’s half-smiling and saying, with +a turn of the head towards Janvrin, that every +man was in honour bound to defend his own occupation, +but that he was proud to say, the +English had no relish for getting out their money-bags +when the government bade them, and preferred +paying their little matter of tax their own +way, the good-will of the family towards Janvrin +was visibly overclouded. Nobody pressed him +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.18'>18</span>to stay; and when, on his departure, he once +more mentioned that Le Brocq’s cart and horse +would be expected to appear on the new road the +next Monday morning, the farmer looked very +grave in giving his assent.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Stephen was abundantly questioned about +England before he was allowed to go to rest: +and when, at length, Aaron led him to the corner +where he was to sleep, and promised to leave no +stone unturned to get him into the hospital, Malet +was mourning with Louise that he had wasted +so much time in seeking an establishment in +Jersey; and the farmer determined that he would +not close his eyes till he had calculated how +much money he had paid over to the States since +he began housekeeping, without reckoning the +use the island had had of his horse and cart, as +often as improvements had been carried on in his +parish.</p> + +<h3 id='ch3.2' class='c016'><span class='sc'>Chapter II.</span> <br> <br>A LEGACY.</h3> + +<p class='c017'>When Aaron stole to the bedside of his guest, +early the next morning, to rouse him for his journey, +he was surprised to find nobody there. Not +only had the guest disappeared, but half the bedding,—the +whole of which would not much encumber +a strong man. The only supposition +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.19'>19</span>that could be entertained was that Stephen had +gone out, with a blanket in addition to his scanty +clothing, to please himself with the morning sunshine; +an amusement to which there was no impediment +of locks and bolts, in this any more +than in the neighbouring farmhouses. But Stephen +was not to be found in orchard or field; nor +did he answer when his name was called, though +everybody in the house was wakened by the +shout. Louise appeared with her milk-pails, and +Anna tripped down to the brook. Mrs. Le +Brocq appeared at the window, knitting, and the +farmer came out to harness his team, while Victorine +swept the kitchen, and prepared to light +the fire. Everybody appeared but Stephen. A +general admiration of his talents prevailed when +it was remarked as a singular thing that a blind +man should be able to find the door, and pursue +his way over ground that he had traversed but +once. The fear was lest he should have lost +himself, got entangled in the copse, or soused in the +brook;—or,—suppose he should have fallen down +the quarry! If he had escaped all these dangers, +he must be as acute about finding his way +as he had shown himself about taxation, and love +and marriage. While this admiration was being +expressed, up came Anna from the brook, with +a gentle reproof prepared for Victorine, for carrying +away the bleaching linen from the place +where they had been left the evening before. +There was no place where they could bleach +more favourably, and Victorine had received no +orders to remove them. It was not long before +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.20'>20</span>the conviction was forced upon everybody that +the linen was stolen. The most valuable part of +the clothing of the family was gone. Nearly +eighty of the best caps belonging to the four +women of the household were carried off, and so +many other useful things that the maidens might +do nothing but spin, knit, and sew, from this time +till Christmas, and yet be obliged to have three +or four extra washes. It was a dreadful misfortune. +Louise leaned her head against the cow +she was milking when the tidings were brought +to her. Let Charles be as fortunate as he might, +her wedding might be considered as deferred for +an indefinite period. Anna hoped against hope +that some happy explanation would arise. It +seemed impossible that any one should be so +wicked as to take, without payment, what did +not belong to him. Father and son and Victorine +were off in different directions to look for +traces of thieves in the fields and highways. Not +a cap was to be seen dropped on the grass, nor +any shirt frolicking by itself on any bush. Victorine +turned back panic-struck, only too well convinced +of what she now thought she had suspected +all along,—that the guest of the last night +had arrived from a far more distant place than +England, and that he needed no ship to bring +him over the sea. She trembled to think what +sort of feet might have been enclosed in her young +master’s shoes, and what might have been the effects +of his eyes, if he had not happily chosen to +keep them shut. Aaron did not know that he +could do better than pursue his way to St. Heliers, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.21'>21</span>where it was possible that he might meet with +either Stephen or the thief, if they should, after +all, not happen to be the same person. So he +harnessed a strong little horse of his father’s to +the cart, drove to his rope-walk, wished that +Malet would not be so late in the mornings, but +would be at his business in time to help people +with advice when they were in a hurry, and drove +off. He had not gone far when his sister’s voice +hailed him. She was running after him with a +list of messages from his mother about articles +that he was to purchase in the market at St. Heliers, +and with a request that if he should be able +to learn anything about the lost property, he +would take particular care to recover Louise’s +share first, as poor Louise was in sadder distress +than anybody else.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You will go to Gorey,” she suggested. “Some +of the English may think there is no harm in +taking our caps, and will give you them back +again.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ask Charles to go there. It will be as much +as I can do to make this harness hold out, if I +go as straight as an arrow and back again. I +had better have kept the last coil of cord I sold +to young François; this is as rotten as if the tow +had never been twisted.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>It was provoking that the harness should break +at this moment; and Aaron showed that it was. +He twitched the horse’s head in its straw collar, +knotted the rope rein with some very petulant +gestures, told his sister that she deserved to be run +over for coming in the way of the long axle of +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.22'>22</span>the cart, and finally urged on his rumbling vehicle +without a word of farewell.</p> + +<p class='c001'>His haste did not, however, prevent his pausing +on some high ground, where an opening in +the ridge of hills afforded him a glimpse of the +sea, and a distant view of the pier at Gorey. +The English oyster-boats were departing for the +season. A little fleet of them was standing out +from the bay; and in one of them might have +been found, as Aaron suspected, the lost property +and the blind thief,—if blind he were. The sight +of such means of escape stimulated the youth to +his pursuit, if indeed it were yet possible to hunt +out the guilty from any retreat between Grosnez +and La Roque, and bring him to justice.</p> + +<p class='c001'>No person in the least resembling Stephen was to +be seen on any of the quays of St. Heliers, nor in the +pretty market-place. Mr. De la Mare had not heard +of any blind stranger being in the neighbourhood. +The vessel from the Baltic was in the harbour,—all +safe, and bringing hemp, as Aaron desired. +As it was still too early in the morning for the +transaction of business on the quay, he thought +it best to make his purchases in the market-place, +telling every person he met of the family loss. +Several people from the country had already +taken their places under the piazzas, and had set +out their butter, eggs, and vegetables; and the +butchers’ carts were being unpacked in the centre. +Every one was soon in possession of the +story. While the early housewife was arguing +with the butcher whether she should pay 3<i>d.</i> or +3½<i>d.</i> per lb. for his prime beef, she stopped to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.23'>23</span>shake her head over the depravity of the age, in +which an open theft had come to be committed +in return for hospitality. The maid-servant, who +took in the tale with open mouth, while the market-woman +counted eggs at 4<i>d.</i> a dozen into +her basket, promised to mention the circumstance +wherever she went. The townsman who had +risen early that he might have the first choice of +fish, spoke of alarming the magistracy and rousing +justice.—Then, when Aaron stepped to a shop +or two within sight, to buy two pounds of three +shilling tea (his mother made a point of having +the best tea), and a supply of fine sugar at 4<i>d.</i>, +half the little boys that were abroad followed +him, as if expecting that the thief would be found +under the counter or in one of the canisters; +and the shopman put on a countenance of concern; +and the head of the firm looked mysterious; +and altogether the impression was very +profound.</p> + +<p class='c001'>All was known at the custom-house before +Aaron betook himself thither to inquire about +the arrival and departure of vessels. Every man +in the establishment,—the principal, the comptroller, +and the two subordinates,—was eager to +question Aaron as he approached with an air of +peculiar gravity. The unlading of Christiana +deals upon the quay had proceeded without their +notice, while engrossed with the tale of the Le +Brocqs’ misfortunes;—not that it was any part +of their duty to watch the unlading of Baltic +timber; for here the people were allowed to get +their timber from any part of the world they +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.24'>24</span>pleased, and to give no more than the natural +price. They were neither compelled to pay the +King for the liberty of using foreign timber +at all; nor obliged, by the high duty put upon +Christiana deals, to take up with the inferior +wood of Canada. The custom-house officers +looked upon the landing and sale of timber with +their hands in their pockets, and as if they had +no more concern in the matter than in a bargain +about a bunch of asparagus.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Equally indifferent were they about the proceedings +of the vessel which brought hemp and +tallow. Indeed, the bustle of the port of St. +Heliers,—a bustle which increases from year to +year,—takes place altogether among the buyers +and sellers. Tax-gatherers have little concern +in the matter. When the harbour-master has +collected the harbour dues, and the custom-house +officers have ascertained that no wine or spirits +are on board, or have levied that single tax, the +government is satisfied, and no further impediments +exist. The Jersey people could not possibly +stand more in need of hemp than the English. +Without rigging for her merchant-ships, +England is impoverished: without cables and +sails for her vessels of war, she is defenceless. +How did she then supply this great necessity? +But little hemp is grown at home; and, +in order to obtain more, government adopted the +means precisely adapted to defeat the end. Instead +of facilitating to the utmost the obtaining +of an article from abroad which is deficient at +home, difficulties were thrown in the way of +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.25'>25</span>getting it from abroad, in order to force the production +at home: a very high duty was laid on +imported hemp. This made it less expensive to +buy sail-cloth and ropes ready made from abroad +than to manufacture them at home; and thus our +manufacturers were ruined. It also stimulated +the use of iron cables, so that the government +found that there is a slip between the cup +and the lip,—between laying on this tax and receiving +the produce. The result of the whole +was that government derived little from the tax; +our manufacturers could not make their business +answer; and we employed foreigners to prepare +our ropes for us, while those at home, who would +do the work cheaper, were standing idle. If +government would have admitted hemp free, the +multitude who were standing idle, and the larger +multitude who paid for the collecting of the tax +and for the dearness of the article, would have +been thankful to subscribe the 70,000<i>l.</i> which +was all that found its way into the Treasury. It +is but lately that the consequences of such a policy +have been recognised by the government and +the country, and the duty on undressed hemp +repealed; but it is now fully acknowledged that +the country need never have paid the high prices +demanded for hemp manufactures from 1808 to +1814, or any of the burdens which this absurd +tax has imposed till now. It is to be hoped that +this conviction will lead to the repeal of other +taxes as bad in principle, and almost as mischievous +in practice: but custom-house officers +still interfere between the English builder and +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.26'>26</span>the timber of the Baltic, and demand so heavy a +tax upon every cask of tallow or oil that is on +its way to the soap-boiler as to involve hundreds +or thousands in the factitious guilt of a breach of +the revenue laws.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Aaron had a favourite phrase at his tongue’s +end, whenever he was out of his father’s sight. +Le Brocq had carried his authority over his son +a great deal too far:—so far that Aaron was in a +state of unremitting bondage to one person, +while he was apt to carry his freedom to an extreme +in every other presence. ‘What is that to +you?’ was his invariable reply when questioned +by sister, friend or stranger;—an expression +which would never have occurred to him, if he +had not been racked with questions by the only +person whom he could not refuse to answer. His +sisters were so well aware of his sensitiveness to +the tone of interrogation that whatever was uncertain +was put by them into a form of conjecture; +and even Victorine appeared to be thinking +aloud whenever she wanted to know anything +which she believed her young master could +tell. Custom-house officers cannot be expected +to show such consideration for individual peculiarities, +and it would have been scarcely safe to +have allowed Aaron to go down to an English +port to transact business about hemp or tallow. +Ladies going to France now find it vexatious +to be asked, “What have you in that bag?” +“What do you carry in this little box;” and +gentlemen turn restive under the inquiry what +fills out their pockets, and whether they carry anything +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.27'>27</span>in their boots. Such inquisition, intolerable +as it is, is less vexatious by half than that +which the English merchant, priding himself on +the dignity of his vocation, has to undergo when +the amount of his purchases, and the value of +his merchandise have to be investigated, and +made known to those who ought to have no concern +in the matter, that they may watch whether +he discharges his duty to the state. These sufferers +may not say (what they are incessantly +prompted to exclaim,)—“What is that to you?” +they may not make as free as Aaron did on the +quays of St. Heliers.</p> + +<p class='c001'>The comptroller accosted him with,</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Your concern is with her,—yonder,—I see.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What’s that to you?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Why, no more than that I can tell you, within +a minute and a half, how soon she will be alongside +the wharf. You won’t have to wait long, I +fancy; for there are half a score of people come +in from the country at the first news of her being +moored off the old castle. You must have found +it a great vexation to be waiting for hemp when +the time of the fishery was passing away.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What’s she?” inquired Aaron, pointing to a +vessel which was making her way out of the +harbour, before the anxious eyes of a group of +men, now resting from the toil of putting the +finishing stroke to her lading.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What’s that to you?” replied the comptroller, +smiling. “I see you do not like other people +to take a fancy to your words. Well, then, she +carries stone to the port of London; and a fine +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.28'>28</span>voyage she is likely to have with this wind:—a +better one than the Riga vessels that have been +in the Channel this fortnight, I fancy, and cannot +get here. They will be all coming at once when +you will want them less than you have done. +But you have always a good market for cordage +in England, I suppose.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Aaron muttered that whether he sent his ropes +to England or anywhere else, people in all places +wanted cordage, and always would want it, he +supposed.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“No doubt; and when one hears of young +men’s sisters being seen turning the wheel in the +rope-walk, and of young men themselves standing +every evening by the poquelaye to look for +ships that bring hemp, one can’t help, if one +cares for the island, hoping that the manufacture +is prospering.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Certainly; if one is thinking of the island. +But what is to become of the island, if it is to be +overrun with thieves? You heard of our being +robbed last night.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Yes. Some London rogue that came by an +oyster-boat, no doubt. What have you lost by +him?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What’s that to you?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Why, really, Mr. Aaron, I don’t see how +you are to find your property again, if you have +an objection to say what you have lost. I must +leave you to find the thief in your own way, and +wish you good morning.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Well; but that is not what I meant to say,—if +you think you can help me to the thief.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_3.29'>29</span>“Nobody could, if many were to take up your +way of speaking. Only conceive, now! ‘Pray, +sir, have you any knowledge of the people that +came by the Medway boats?’—‘What’s that to +you?’ ‘Have you happened to see a blind man +pass your way, Mr. So-and-so?’—‘What’s that +to you?’ ‘Where was it——?’”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Aaron half-laughed, and wished people would +never be tiresome with their questions, and +then——</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And then you would not make it a great +mystery whether the thief took two pairs of stockings +or six. Well, if I find Mr. Stephen and +his booty in an empty wine-cask, I will make +bold to let you know, if you will only allow me +to ask whether the property belongs to you.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Aaron gravely thanked him, when the comptroller +began saying one thing more before they +separated.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Just bear this hint in mind, Mr. Aaron. +Don’t be tempted to go and follow any business +in England, till you have taken as great a fancy +for being questioned as you have now taken +against it. This is the country for you,—where +nobody fingers your tow, or counts your strands +or measures your cables. Don’t be persuaded +to go and live in England.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Aaron stared. He had never had a thought +of even crossing to England for a week’s pleasure. +Had his companion heard of any scheme——? +What could put it into his head to offer +such a caution?</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What’s that to you?” answered the comptroller, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.30'>30</span>laughing as he retreated. “Only mind +what I say.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Aaron was not fond of minding what anybody +said. He had had enough of that kind of observance +enforced by his father. He looked +dogged; and if any one had on the spot offered +him a passage to England, he would probably +have gone, at all hazards.</p> + +<p class='c001'>The fancy possessed him all day. While engaged +in the purchase of his hemp, he made inquiries +of the Russians whether they had been in +England, and how they were treated there, and +after what fashion purchases of hemp were made +in the ports. He was in the midst of a reverie, +deciding that it could be no more really necessary +to answer impertinent questions in England than +anywhere else, when he was stopped on his way +out of town by an officer of justice who wanted +a description of Stephen’s costume; and then by +a housewife who had a mysteriously-obtained cap +to show, which she supposed might be one of the +missing stock. Over hill and over dale he jogged +and jolted, letting his horse carry the cart after +its own fancy, while he reviewed in his mind all +the trades and professions he had heard of as being +practised in England; and recalled the countenances +of two Isle of Wight men who had looked +far from being harassed to death. He was pretty +sure it must be very possible for him to live in +England: and what the comptroller could mean +by so earnest a caution, given at this very time, +he could not imagine.</p> + +<p class='c001'>The first person he saw on his arrival in the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.31'>31</span>neighbourhood of home was Victorine. She was +awaiting him on the orchard bank; and very +sorry she was that she could venture no further +on the road by which he was to approach; but +the thief of the preceding night was as a lion +in the path. No one of the women had this day +gone out of screaming distance; and it was +rather a stretch of boldness to have attained the +orchard bank. There had been terrors to be +sustained;—a toad had made the grass move in +one place; and a large black bird, (Victorine did +not look again to see of what species,) had rustled +in the hedge, and flown out before her eyes; and +a gruff voice had been overheard in the ditch on +the other side;—a voice which made her heart +beat so that she could hear nothing else, or she +would soon have discovered that it was the grunting +old sow. The greatness of the occasion alone +enabled her to take her stand, notwithstanding all +these alarms.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Mr. Aaron,” cried she, “there is news at +home. Mr. Aaron, the uncle is dead.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What uncle? Whose uncle? Our uncle? +What uncle?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Uncle Anthony is dead. I thought I would +tell you, sir; lest you should see the mother first, +and fear something worse. Have you got news +of our caps?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Aaron did not answer the last question, he +was so busy trying to remember who uncle Anthony +was. He remembered having heard the +name in childhood, and believed that the person +it belonged to lived somewhere a great way off; +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.32'>32</span>but no passing thought of either name or person +had been in his mind for so many years, that he +was ill-prepared to take the news as it seemed to +be expected that he should.</p> + +<p class='c001'>He found his mother moving about with a +countenance of the deepest solemnity, and the +same step that she would have used in a sick-room. +Le Brocq was quiet and thoughtful, and +Malet evidently in gay spirits.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“We have had a great loss, Aaron,” declared +the mother. “You remember our uncle Anthony.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Did I ever see him, mother?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>He was told that this was a very ungrateful +question, for that uncle Anthony had been his +godfather. When it pleased God to send afflictions, +it became people to be more sensible of +them than Aaron seemed to be. By way of setting +an example, Mrs. Le Brocq gave all the house-business +in charge to Victorine, and sat down with +her knitting to sigh very heavily, and look up +reproachfully as often as any one spoke. Anna +saw Aaron’s perplexity, and its near approach to +a sulky fit, and found an opportunity of whispering +a little desirable information.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Uncle Anthony was father’s uncle, and he +gave mother a tea-chest when she married; and +he was your godfather, and lived near London; +and he wants us to go and live there now.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But I thought he was dead.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“So he is: but he left a letter, which I suppose +father will tell you about. I am afraid +we do not know how to take this dispensation as +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.33'>33</span>we ought: but pray God those may be supported +that will miss him more than we can!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What does father look so grave for? Is it +sorrow? or is he thinking of London?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Charles let drop that he should like to go to +London; and he says ’tis like a providence, after +what passed last night. Such a business offered! +and so pressing! Father is turning it over, +perhaps.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Why for Charles more than me? Everybody +is thought of before me.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You would not have thought so if you had +known how father was calling for you, three or +four times before you came home. Whatever +he may be thinking, he is not forgetting you.—But, +Aaron, don’t be eager after changes. We +are over-apt to like changes; but see the grave +faces that we have had since this time yesterday, +when our changes began!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>A change was meanwhile working to which +Anna could not object, any more than her brother. +Her father’s heart was opening towards +Aaron under the influence of a strong excitement. +He held out the letter at arm’s length, with the +encouraging command, “Read that.” Aaron +read as follows:—</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Dear Nephew—The reason why you have +never heard from me for these seventeen years +past is because I had a son and daughter of my +own, as you know, to care for; and you were +too far off to do me any good in the way of attention, +which I always remembered in your favour +when in want of it when my son turned +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.34'>34</span>disobedient. Also I remembered the overalls +your wife knitted for me, and always determined +you should hear of them again, sooner or later. +But I had no mind to give up my business to +anybody else before I had done with it myself; +and for this same reason, though I am writing +this letter now, I don’t mean that you should +have it till after my death. Never mind my +missing being thanked by you! I can fancy all +you would say very well, and set it down to your +credit.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You are to come and take my business, instead +of living in your outlandish place any longer, +which is only a place for such as are half French +in their hearts,—confound them! You have +nothing like this Lambeth neighbourhood, let me +tell you; and the sooner you come and see, the +better. Indeed, the business can’t wait long for +a master, though Studley will do very well to take +care of it for the few weeks after my burial till +you come. But make haste, lest you miss more +than you think for. There is little in the pottery +business that you may not learn, and teach your +little boy after you, with Studley to help you: +and it is a very pretty concern, and one which it +is a mystery to me that my son should have +sneezed at, and gone abroad, I do believe to get +away from me, where he is doing very well, they +say, with his wife and family in America; and +so nobody can allege I do an unkind thing in +showing my displeasure against him by leaving +my business to one who never disobeyed me. +My daughter, I should have said, died twelve +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.35'>35</span>years ago, and is buried in the same churchyard +with my wife.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You may be thankful that I have lived to +this time to get up a pretty business for you. +The stone pottery is a very different affair now +from what it was when I first came into it, forty +years ago. Not but that it was in one respect +more flourishing twenty years ago than it is now;—viz., +in soda-water bottles, of which we used +to send out a great number till cut out in that +respect by the glass, which is more secure of +being clean, they say, and does not sweat, as +stone used to do, though we have now cured the +sweating. It is a pity, too, that glass is preferred +for beer that is sent abroad. I don’t mean ginger +beer or spruce beer, both which are bottled +in stone, as being less apt to burst; and the +people in Van Diemen’s Land and other foreign +parts are very fond of such brisk drinks, as you +will find to your profit. We made 130 cwt. with +E X upon them last year. But this is a poor +test, since a bare twelfth of our article is duty-paid. +We send as many figured jugs to Ireland +as ever; and what we make for ink and blacking +is prodigious. There is an increase in spirit +casks and large oil bottles; and the state of +chemicals has improved in our favour since I +took the business; so that I should scarcely have +believed then what I should some time sell to +chemists, and also for filtering. So here, you +see, is a pretty sort of business, and only, I assure +you, ten or eleven to divide it among them +in London, and only sixty-nine in all England: +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.36'>36</span>and if prices have come down somewhat, it is +quite as much because the clay can be got +cheaper, and coals are lower, as on account of the +meddling of the glass-bottle makers,—which you +will perhaps wonder at my owning, considering +what a grudge we owe these last: but I am for +fair play on all occasions. So now you know +what you have to expect, except about the house. +It is a pretty pleasant house, joining the pottery, +and opening into the yard: and there being only +outhouses behind for some way, it is what I call +airy; and the furniture you will find just as I +leave it. So all will be ready for you to come +directly.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I think this is all at present. You may expect +me to say something serious, as people generally +do when they are settling their affairs to leave +the world. But I am not particularly ill, though +I have taken this opportunity of writing this +letter, and finished my 75th year yesterday; and +those things come time enough when the time +comes: and my business now is, being of sound +mind, to arrange matters for you, in case of my +being cut off suddenly. So I shall just leave this +open, in case of having anything to add at any +future time.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>It appeared that nothing had occurred to be +added in any future time, for this was all. Anna +was sorry for it. While her father was talking +about the letter being that of a good, kind, old +soul, she was turning it round to find in some of +its odd corners some word of relenting towards +his disobedient son. Aaron waited in silence an +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.37'>37</span>intimation that Malet was to be presented with +this “pretty business” in a country where people +paid the merest trifles in taxes, and without +being aware of it. The idea had even struck him +that he would work upon Malet to let him become +a partner, and thus free himself from his +father’s strict rule, and settle himself where, as +he grew older, no one would make him pay down +money for the use of the State.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Malet looked blank when Le Brocq announced +his intention of going to St. Heliers to-morrow, +to inquire about a passage for England. The +young man was asked the cause of his surprise. +Why should any time be lost?</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Do you mean to go?” asked all the family.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Certainly. What else should he do? Malet +should rent the farm, and take Aaron’s rope-walk, +if he would. Aaron would be wanted at the +pottery. Malet would fain have discovered that +he should be wanted too. No one who had seen +and heard Stephen thought anything so hard as +to have to live in Jersey, when there was such a +place as England to go to. Even with the certainty +before them of being able to marry immediately, +Malet and Louise looked grave. Any +one would have thought that their marriage had +been put off for a twelvemonth at least.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You shall have the farm at a reasonable rate, +in consideration of its being a place for my wife +and Anna to come back to, if anything should +happen to me before I have settled well in this +business in London. You shall have the six +acres for 40<i>l.</i>, and no other charges but for the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.38'>38</span>orchard; and you shall be married directly, that we +may be gone. We will settle about Aaron’s +rope-walk to-morrow, when I have questioned +him a little more about it.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Aaron did not slip away, as he usually did +when there was talk of questioning. He was too +happy in the prospect of living in England to +throw any impediment in the way of getting rid +of his rope-walk.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And what are we to pay for the orchard, +pray?” asked Louise, repiningly. “I’m sure +I shall have no time to make cider, if you all go +away and leave me.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Victorine will stay; and that will be just so +much more help than your mother had when we +married,” replied Le Brocq. “I shall not ask +above 3<i>l.</i> an acre for the orchards, and cider +enough for our own drinking, which I expect +you will send us every year.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Anna and I shall make our own cider, I +suppose,” declared Mrs. Le Brocq, forgetting her +solemnity in the interest of the topic. “It will +be a long way to send cider.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Not farther than cider was sent every season, +her husband replied; and he doubted whether it +would be quite convenient to make cider on the +premises of a Lambeth pottery; but as Mrs. Le +Brocq was sure that, wherever she went, she should +have an orchard at the back of the house, the +point was left to be determined after their arrival.</p> + +<p class='c001'>There must now be entire silence, for the farmer +was about to study over again the letter from +uncle Anthony’s lawyer in which the foregoing +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.39'>39</span>epistle was enclosed. Louise therefore withdrew +to meditate over her milk-pail, and Anna to take +in the linen from the green bank, lest there +should be a further theft this night. As she +passed the hydrangeas at the door, and the flowering +myrtles that half-concealed the paling, she +felt sad at the prospect of leaving them;—at the +prospect of leaving these particular hydrangeas +and myrtles, not of quitting the region of +flowers; for she never doubted there being a +green path to the house in Lambeth, and a vine +growing up to the thatch, and blossoming shrubs +clustering on every side. She hoped they should +all be happier when they were rich; but she +could scarcely see how: for Louise must be left +behind, and Victorine; and her mother’s head-ach +and pain in the shoulder might perhaps continue, +however rich they might be. But if Aaron should +look lighter, and father be as kind to him as to +Louise and herself, they should certainly be all +much happier; and perhaps the being rich might +bring this about. At any rate, it was God that +raised up as well as brought low; and so all +must be right: but this was a dear place to be +obliged to leave. Aaron silently devoured his +mess of conger eel, stewed with milk and young +green peas, and grew in his own estimation every +moment. When Victorine had done serving him, +she placed herself where she might watch the +family party, and perhaps discover what made +her mistress sigh as she had never heard her sigh +since the late king died.</p> + +<div> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_3.40'>40</span> + <h3 id='ch3.3' class='c016'><span class='sc'>Chapter III.</span><br> <br> LIFE IN LAMBETH.</h3> +</div> + +<p class='c017'>It is needless to explain that there were neither +myrtles nor vines about the pottery-house. Not +that there was any deficiency of scent around the +dwelling. A soap manufactory near obviated +every charge of this kind. It had given out its +odours in full power at the moment of the Le +Brocqs’ first approach to their new abode, and +had greeted them just when they paused to admire +the symbols which were erected on their +pottery wall. It was by uncle Anthony’s taste +that the establishment bore this refined character. +It was he who had mounted a huge filterer on +one angle; and on another a ladle which seemed +made to fish up Truth out of a well. Uncle +Anthony had done much. Would he had done +one thing more!—removed from the neighbourhood +of the soap manufactory, or got it removed +by indicting it as a nuisance. But he had lived +for fifty years on good terms with this establishment, +and never dreamt of hurting it. Indeed, +when he had been persuaded, on rare occasions, +to give himself a day’s airing at Hornsey, he +relished the atmosphere of his native street on +his return, as the fuller’s heart leaps at the sight +of the dust about his mill, and the weaver’s at +the sound of the click-clack of his loom. Mrs. +Le Brocq did not take it so easily, nor believe +what she was told of the certainty that she would +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.41'>41</span>enjoy the nuisance in time, as much as her +neighbours. Anna felt it a sad addition to the +excitements under which she had to labour from +dawn till night. Every morning she was startled +from sleep by the workmen knocking at the gate +of the yard; and then came the peevish bell of +the dustman, and then a gradual increase of street +noises. If it rained, the sprinklings of white +earth in the yard became mud; if the sun shone +in, the dust danced thick in its beams, and she +felt as if she drew it in with every breath. At +her former home, little dust was to be seen, as +everything was green around, except the gravelly +lane; but here no efforts to keep the furniture +in a seemly state availed anything. It would +have been as easy to parry one of the plagues of +Egypt. There was a good deal to be admired, +however, when it was not boiling day at the +soapery, or when the wind was south. The river, +as seen from the wharf behind the pottery, was +not so fine, she thought, as the channel between +Jersey and France; but the bridge was very +grand, and nothing could be more beautiful than +her father’s finely arranged stock of stone-ware. +Mr. Studley, the foreman, had assured her that the +process of the manufacture was in some parts very +elegant; but her father would not let her see it +till Aaron should be competent to the exhibition, +on some holiday, or other occasion when the men +should be absent. Through the stock-room, +however, she was allowed to range; and her awe +of London, as a place of civilization and wealth, +was much increased by what she saw there;—such +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.42'>42</span>beautiful jars and pitchers, and so enormous +a congregation of blacking bottles! Thither she +carried her knitting, when not wanted in kitchen +or parlour. She thought she must leave off +knitting, as her mother could do all that was +now required. Nobody seemed to wear knitted +smallclothes or petticoats in London, nor even +shawls. If it was really true that she must no +longer make her father’s and Aaron’s coats, she +feared she should want occupation: but it was +difficult to credit that in a fine country like England +the men would condescend to such womanish +work as tailoring. She had no doubt she should +find this to be a joke upon her, as a new comer. +She had, indeed, seen a young man sitting upon +a table, and doing tailor’s work; but he was very +small and pale, and most likely permitted to do +this because he was fit for nothing else.</p> + +<p class='c001'>While deep in thought over her work, she was +planning how to make her mother more comfortable +than she could possibly be at present. +Mrs. Le Brocq could not live without apples, +and was very much discomposed at having to +purchase them; and when she went to the shop, +or stepped out after a fruit-woman in the street, +the neighbours invariably followed to stare at +her costume. The butcher had given out that +the new family were preciously stingy people, +eating meat only once or twice a week, which +was a sin and shame in the owners of a pottery. +Mr. Studley cast a look of disgust at her, the +only time he had entered the house,—which happened +precisely at the moment when the dinner +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.43'>43</span>of lard and cabbage soup was being served up. +If Mrs. Le Brocq could not be made more popular +in the neighbourhood, it was to be feared that +the possession of a pottery would not insure +perfect happiness to the family.</p> + +<p class='c001'>How different from Studley had been another +visitor who entered at a similar important point +of time! “A gentleman,” who did not declare +his name, called to speak to Mr. Le Brocq, a few +days after his arrival, and walked in, as a matter +of course, without waiting to hear whether the +person he sought was at home. He uttered a +cry of delight at the spectacle of the soup, and +kissed Mrs. Le Brocq and her daughter, in sign +of being a countryman. Before he could be +asked, he drew a chair, rubbed his hands, and +sang a verse of a song in the French of the island,—the +language which it refreshed their ears to +hear. He had not done when Le Brocq came +in, expecting to find a customer for his stoneware +rather than his dinner.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ha! countryman!” cried the stranger. +“Don’t try to remember me. For my own sake, +don’t try to remember me. There’s no use in +looking back too far, when all is done; but I +could not slink away when once I had seen the +hem of your wife’s Jersey petticoat. My name +is Durell: there is no occasion to remind us all +that you have heard it before.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mr. Le Brocq looked grave. A farmer, of the +name of Durell, had committed an assault on +the King’s highway, in the neighbourhood of +Gorey, and had anticipated his sentence of banishment +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.44'>44</span>by making off in a fishing-boat, within +an hour of the information being laid against +him. Every one had been sorry for the offender, +who was known to be of a passionate temper, +and to have received such provocation as would +have gone far to justify him. Every one was +sorry that he had precipitately given up his pretty +farm, and compelled his wife and child to wander +after him to another land; but Le Brocq now +wished to have some evidence of the respectability +of Durell, before he admitted him as a guest +on terms of familiarity.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You should have such a love of country as +mine, man, and then you would not look so cold +upon me,” cried Durell. “If you knew how +my heart longs for a word about the deep shady +lanes, and those blessed little coves, where the +sea comes to kiss one’s feet, and slips away +again! I have not seen what I call a dell any +where else; and the pastures, with a green that +makes one’s eyes water! Heaven keep them +so! And how are they?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Did you come to hear this sort of news?” +Le Brocq inquired.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“The devil take what I came for! that will do +afterwards. Can’t you tell me whether the doves +coo as they used to do when the wind dropped? +For the soul of me, I can’t believe you are a +Jerseyman! If I had not thrown open my doors +wider to poor Stephen, I should have doubted +my being a Jerseyman myself.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Poor who?” inquired Le Brocq, hoping to +obtain something in the form of a reference,</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_3.45'>45</span>“A poor helpless body that lives with me, and +tells me every night what makes me dream that +I am leaning against a mossy stone gate-post, +or throwing pebbles into the ivy to bring out +the birdies. You shall see him; and we will +make ourselves all of a company.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Le Brocq was going to rebuke this familiarity, +when Studley put his head in, and respectfully +told Durell that all was ready for him when he +pleased to come. Durell’s air was immediately +as sober and business-like as that of Studley.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I believe,” said he, “you have not told your +principal what I am here for. Ay, you think he +must know by instinct; but let me tell you that +no more is heard of the excise in Jersey than +there is here of knit small-clothes. Had he told +you to expect me?” he inquired of Le Brocq.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“He said something yesterday about sending +a notice to the excise; but I do not rightly see +what the excise has to do with my manufacture.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“That you shall see presently. We have only +to visit you once a day, and to see your bottles +come out of the furnace, and make you count +and weigh them, if we choose, and measure +them across the neck, to see if they are of the +legal size, and——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What is all that to you?” cried Aaron, who +had just entered.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“In order to determine the payment we are +to take from you.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Payment! What payment? People are to +pay us for our bottles, I suppose, and not we +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.46'>46</span>them, or I see little use in making bottles. What +payment can you mean?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“The excise duty,—the tax on home manufactures. +In your case——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But we were told that the people in England +paid no tax, except a mere trifle that they give +without knowing it. Father, did not you understand +that the English pay no tax?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“That is a little mistake,” averred Durell. +“Their paying without knowing it is partly true. +What you are going to pay me, for instance, is +not the same kind of contribution as you have +paid out of your own pocket in Jersey, when the +States wanted to erect a new pier, or other public +building. You will repay yourselves by putting +such a price on your bottles as will defray the +tax, besides yielding you a profit; and the buyers +of your bottles will not know the amount they +pay for the tax from that which buys the bottle. +You advance the tax for them, that is all.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But that is very hard,” observed Aaron. +“Why are we to be obliged to advance money +for hundreds of people that we do not know or +wish to serve?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Oh! you must pay yourselves by charging +interest upon this advance. Studley will tell you +that you clap on a little more still upon the price, +as interest upon your advance.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Well, I think that is hard upon our customers, +I must say. I don’t call it any favour +to them to take their money in such a way, +instead of giving them a choice whether they +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.47'>47</span>will pay directly, or wait awhile and pay the +interest too.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“The buyer of your bottles pays no more +for interest than he gains in time. There is no +cheat in making him pay interest upon this kind +of loan, any more than upon other kinds of +loans.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But there is a cheat in not letting him know +how the matter stands, so that he may have a +choice. It is like putting physic between bread +and butter for a grown man, who had, perhaps, +much rather swallow a pill of his own accord.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Well; every man has the power of looking +between his bread and butter. Every buyer may +know how much duty is paid upon any article he +buys.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But he is not able to choose between the pill +and the powder. If he won’t take the powder as +it is spread, he must go without both physic and +bread and butter.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And I am far from sure,” observed Le Brocq, +“whether our customers be not cheated, after all. +I was frightened enough when I came, as Studley +knows, to find what wages we have to pay. I +set down the concern as ruin when the first Saturday +night came; and I like the plan but little +better now I find that these high wages are paid, +in the same manner as the tax and the interest, +out of the price of the article. I believe that the +high wages are owing to this very tax. I must +think so, because our workmen are not nearly so +well off with their high wages as our Jersey labourers +with only half the sum.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_3.48'>48</span>Mrs. Le Brocq wondered that English labourers +used so many stone bottles as to make all this +difference. Her husband explained that the same +tax was laid on other articles, more used by labourers +than stone bottles—on soap, and beer, +and spirits, and tea. Now, if the tax made the +articles on which the labourer subsists much +more expensive than they would otherwise be, +the labourer’s wages must be much higher to buy +the same comforts than they would otherwise be; +and the wages being high acts again on the price +of the article made by the labourer; and so the +buyer pays twice over, and everything is put out +of its natural course.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Le Brocq heaved a deep sigh, which was +echoed by his son. They had calculated, from +the price of their wares, compared with the expense +of production, that they should be abundantly +rich in a year or two. They had been +startled by the amount of wages; and now, when +they found that the price of their bottles was also +to cover the tax, and interest upon its advance, +their golden visions began to melt into the twilight +of doubt.</p> + +<p class='c001'>The first object now was to finish dinner, and +go over the premises with the exciseman, to see +what his visit was like. Durell declined all +further hospitality on the present occasion, declaring, +with a look of gravity very unlike what +he wore when Studley came in, that though he +had tasted a favourite old dish for once, to show +his goodwill, it was but for once. He always +avoided occasion of misinterpretation in his office, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.49'>49</span>and should therefore desire his visits to be strictly +confined to business. Considering how frequent +they must be, it was necessary to come to an understanding +from the beginning, especially with +strangers who might not be aware of the strictness +of the rules by which excise officers must be +guided. He requested Mr. Le Brocq and all +his family to take notice that it would be better +to offer no kind of favour to him or his excise +brethren, since none could be accepted.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“So we are to have the pleasure of seeing you +often?” observed Le Brocq.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You will see me often,—one or other of us +every day; but I advise you not to call this a +pleasure. It can never be a pleasure; but you +may prevent its being a plague by letting us go +and come, and by being perfectly correct in your +conduct——Ah! I perceive you are offended at +the word; but when you have lived here a few +months longer, you will see that I mean nothing +more than a friendly caution. Finish your dinner; +and I will go with Studley, and learn what your +people are doing.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Aaron was on the point of saying once more, +“What’s that to you?” but his father desired +him to dispatch his meal, and follow as soon as +he could, to take a lesson in excise visitations.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You may wonder now that you have not +seen us before,” observed Durell to Le Brocq, +as they passed into the manufactory; but your +predecessor was on very good terms with us; and, +from his long connexion with us, could be trusted +to send for us on all proper occasions, so as to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.50'>50</span>save himself from a daily visitation; and the +same favour was continued to Studley till we +found that the management had gone into other +hands. You cannot do better than follow his +advice. He will inform you of all that is necessary +in your dealings with us. Ho! ho! +what a brickmaking here is! For how many +thousand are you going to account to us, Studley?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Sir, we do not sell bricks,” protested Le +Brocq.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Nor tiles. But those tiles that are now +burning in every one of your furnaces would have +paid tax a few months ago.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What! tiles that are used only for our ware +to stand upon while it is burning! Bless me! +are all these charges to be paid by the article +when sold? Our bottles may well be called +dear.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Though I fancy you take a little off the price +of the bottles, and put it upon the jars which are +not taxed. Hey?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Studley observed that this was a very fair way +of defeating the intentions of the glass-manufacturers, +to whose jealousy it was owing that stone +bottles were taxed at all.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Le Brocq was quite out of humour at being +threatened with a charge of 5<i>s.</i> 10<i>d.</i> a thousand +for his bricks. Was he to be expected to buy +bricks to build that upper story, while he had the +clay on his premises? He might do which he +pleased, he was told: he was to pay the duty +either way,—in the price of bought bricks, or into +the exciseman’s hand.</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_3.51'>51</span>“By the way,” observed Durell, “that new +upper story is not entered. How comes that?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“We keep that for articles that are not exciseable,” +answered Studley. “You have no concern +with that floor. There is not an exciseable +article in it.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Take care that there never is, then. You +may find that your walls have tongues, if you give +them anything to tell. You know, friend,” turning +to Le Brocq, “that for each and every of +premises not entered according to law, there is +a heavy penalty. If you did not know it before, +you know it now; and heaven help you to keep +out of my hands! Ah! here are your tiles!—pitiful +things to pay tax upon, indeed. I am +glad to leave you to your own devices about that +article.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Studley looked very impatient while the visiter +went on talking, and turning over the burnt tiles. +When Durell next entered a kiln that was cooling, +and looked round at the streaks of glazing that +the salt had left upon the sides, and afterwards +descended to the place where the clay was being +milled, and watered, and trodden, and conversed +with the blind horse, and joked with the boys, +the foreman thought it time to speak out.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Pray, sir, do you know how long we have +been waiting for you? Do you please that we +should proceed without you?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“By no means. Are you going to fill the +kiln, or draw?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You seem to forget our notice, sir. We +drew five hours ago; and your officer weighed +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.52'>52</span>the wares in due form. They are standing now +for you to weigh; and if you keep us here to +the end of the six hours, it will be too late to +pack them off by the present opportunity. Another +half-hour is our last chance this week. I +told you so before, sir,” continued the vexed +foreman, following as Durell skipped up the stairs, +taking two at a time. “If I told you once, I +told you thrice; but that stinking hotch-potch +put everything else out of your head, I think.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You will pack off the larger articles, I suppose, +Studley,” observed Le Brocq, “whether +the bottles are ready or not? You will get off +all but the exciseable articles to-night?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Studley explained that the bottles were to be +packed in between the larger articles, as in the +kiln, thus saving carriage in the one case as they +saved fuel in the other. If the officers meant to +grow very strict just now, it might become necessary +to have a separate kiln for burning, and a separate +package, rather than keep eleven twelfths of +the manufacture waiting for the rites to be performed +on the exciseable portion.</p> + +<p class='c001'>The weighing was more a matter of show than +use; for Durell was anxious not to prevent the +departure of the goods. He even tried his hand +at packing, and was not out of humour when +plainly told that they could do better without +him. Studley hinted that he might be more acceptable +among the ladies, who had probably +something to tell him about Jersey cows and +orchards; but Durell took his stand near a boy +who was beginning the practice of his art. The +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.53'>53</span>exciseman crossed his arms, and leaned against +the wall while watching and commenting upon +the progress of the lad, in shaping his little pots +upon the wheel.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Very fair! very fair, lad! Round it,—with +a delicate rounding,—and coax it,—and bulge +it,—and draw it narrow. ’Tis as if it made itself, +or grew with a touch of magic. Pshaw! +you have brought it off awry. ’Tis but a slovenly +piece, after all. I should think myself a +clever fellow, too, if I could come as near the +mark as that. You are a lucky one to have that +kind of work under your hands.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The boy looked up with an intelligent smile. +He had lately been promoted from turning the +lathe, and the sense of his new dignity shone in +his countenance as the gentleman looked on. +The gentleman still soliloquized.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Young thoughtless things like you see no +more in such occupation than making so much +clay into so many pots, for so much wages; and, +perhaps, the pride of being a skilled workman. +But those that have spent their first years in the +fields, and have wandered about the world since, +see much blessing to you in having beauty before +your eyes, and growing up under your hands. +’Tis well for you that there is something to keep +you fresh in all the dust of this place, and all the +glare and noise of the street. The spirit of +beauty that hung the cloud curtains of God’s +throne may look bright down upon you, even +here. Blessings on her, and Him that made +her!”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_3.54'>54</span>The boy’s rising colour seemed to show that +he heard and partly understood, though he proceeded +diligently with his work.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Did you ever go into the country, lad?” inquired +Durell. “Did you ever see a green +field?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Not he, I’ll be bound,” answered the little +boy at the neighbouring lathe, who became impatient +to be noticed. “My father took me to +Tottenham once, and I had some ale; but <i>his</i> +mother never lets him go anywhere.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“She does,” asserted Brennan, turning red +again. “She lets me stay out on the wharf till +bed-time; and when I got a new coat given me, +she went all the way into the Park with me, one +Sunday afternoon.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You saw some green grass, there?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Yes, Sir, and the swans.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And plenty of ducks?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I did not care so much about them,—just +like soda-water bottles with wings, when they are +flying. But I made a swan, sir, when I came +back.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What do you do out on the wharf till bed-time?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Look at the boats passing under the bridge, +sir. And there are heaps of things that look +better as it grows dark.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What sort of things?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Baskets of things on the wharf, heaped up; +and barrows and packages——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The boy at the lathe interrupted his companion +by laying an information against him. There +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.55'>55</span>was not such a thing as a bit of slate ever found +upon the wharf that was not covered over with +Brennan’s drawings of barrows, and boats, and +baskets, and sometimes Mr. Studley’s greyhound.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I made a greyhound,” observed Brennan, +looking up; “and when it was baked, Mr. Studley +knew it for his own.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“When shall you have a new coat again?” +asked Durell. “Confound the question! just as +if we could not get you a coat among us! You +shall go to a place, Brennan,—I will take you to +a place where you will see something prettier +than that pitcher you seem to be admiring so +much;—something that I think you will like better +than green fields.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“On a Sunday, sir?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“No; I believe not. Studley! The British +Museum is not open on a Sunday, is it?—No, +boy; it must be some other day.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But I can’t go any other day,” said the boy +mournfully,</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O yes; cursed be he that shuts out such as +you from feeding your genius,—from adoring +God in using his gifts”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Perhaps you would ask for a part holiday, +sir?” suggested the boy.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Will I? Ay——” But Durell remembered +that he was an exciseman, and must not +ask favours. In a cooler tone, he promised the +boy to remember him; and desired that the greyhound +and the swan might be ready for exhibition +the next time he came. He left the boy +happy in devising an opportunity for asking some +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.56'>56</span>of the wise men about the pottery what the British +Museum was. The information gleaned in +the course of a week did not give him any clear +comprehension of what he should see that he +should like better than green fields. “There’s +a monster of a wild beast on the stair, as I’ve +heard,” said one. “There’s a power of stones, +laid out in rows, as my own eyes saw,” attested +another. “Gold and precious stones! Lord bless +ye! nothing like it. Only what you may pick +up in the road any day.” “You forget the skin +of the head with the hair on it,” observed another. +“A wild man’s hair and the skin of his head.” +The boy could not conceive how any of these +things could be prettier than swan or greyhound. +He could only wonder whether the gentleman +was in earnest about giving him a new coat, and +would remember to take him to that odd place.</p> + +<p class='c001'>The ware was precisely in time for the waggon. +It was as near missing as possible; and while +Le Brocq wiped his brows after his toil and +hurry, he looked reproachfully at Durell. He +found that no farming labours were so fatiguing +as waiting the pleasure of an exciseman, in the +heat and dust of a pottery.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You look at me,” observed Durell. “You +wish me a hundred miles off, I see: but I can’t +help the system; and I tell you, you are better +off than many of your neighbours. Only one-twelfth +of your manufacture is exciseable, and——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“That is the very thing I complain of,” said +Le Brocq. “To be worried and watched for +such a little matter!”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_3.57'>57</span>“I think it our business to complain of that,” +replied Durell. “There is some satisfaction in +one’s supervision when one collects enough to +make it worth while—a hundred pounds or two. +But it makes us feel like so many fools to be +trudging here, and riding there, to collect less +than would mend our shoes or feed our horses. +In your business, there are but nine men that pay +more than a hundred a-year in duty; and of that, +they get back a third part when they export.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“No more than nine?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“In all England; and seven pay less than 1<i>l.</i> +a-year. Here are we bound to visit their potteries +every day, and as much oftener as they choose to +call us, to collect fifteen-pence, or seven shillings +and sixpence, or a guinea a-year! ’Tis a farce.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I should think these people would pay three +times the sum to have you keep off their premises, +every day of the year; and that would save your +salary;—for I suppose you have one.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“To be sure; and hundreds more of us. How +would you have the whole kingdom watched,—every +maker of glass, and soap, and beer, of +bricks, and paper, and starch, and spirits,—every +grower of hops,—every maltster and seller of +tea and sweet wines and hides,—how would you +have all these people watched and made to pay +their fines and forfeitures, without an army of +excisemen? and who will be an exciseman without +pay? You may talk of the church,(heaven +preserve it!) but I know one thing like it. The +church has its hierarchy,—its gradation from the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.58'>58</span>archbishop to the curate, all salaried. The excise +has its hierarchy, too,—from the gentlemen that +sit as judges in the court, with their messengers +always in waiting, down to the poor devils that are +for ever tramping in the outrides and footwalks.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Le Brocq would not hear another word in the +way of comparison of a hierarchy which existed +for the purpose of supplying the people with religious +aids, and one which levied a most vexatious +tax. Durell could not refrain from going +on to magnify the body to which he belonged. +He told of the fifty-six collections into which +England and Wales are divided; and the subdivision +of these into districts, each with its supervisor; +and the further division into outrides and +footwalks, with a gauger or surveyor in each;—as +elaborate a spy-system, at the utmost possible +cost, as had ever been invented, his Jersey friend +thought.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“By no means,” protested Durell. “The +Customs beat us in expense, in more ways than +one. In one respect only, the difference is more +than 180,000<i>l.</i> We excisemen can live in houses +that were built for other people: but the coast-guard +must have cottages for themselves alone; +and this 180,000<i>l.</i> is what they cost. And then, +if we have excise duties that yield less than any +customs, they have a vast number more that +yield but little. When 566 articles pay customs +duties, and 510 of them yield under 10,000<i>l.</i> +a-year, the expense must be greater in proportion +to the gain than in any folly that the excise can +practise.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_3.59'>59</span>“They are not quite foolish enough yet, I +suppose, to interfere with an entire branch of +trade, for the sake of raising a few shillings or +pounds here and there?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“The two are pretty much on a par there. If +we plague all the stone-bottle makers in England +for the sake of little more than 3000<i>l.</i> a-year, +our brethren of the Customs pry into all the +cordage that comes into the kingdom for the sake +of less than 150<i>l.</i>”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Aaron could speak to the annoyance of having +his cordage taxed at the custom-house on the +south coast, when he had two or three times +wished to sell in England such produce of his +rope-walk as was not wanted in Jersey. Yet, as +a Channel Island man, he had been treated +leniently; being charged no more duty than would +countervail what the English had paid in tax +before they could bring their article into the +market.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Well; I am gone,” said Durell. “I only +stayed to show you Jerseymen that we are not quite +the worst set of tax-gatherers in the world. If +you are willing to be on good terms, so are we: +but I must tell you, Mr. Aaron, that it is not every +man of our tribe that would bear to be scowled +at, as you have scowled at me to-day; nor could +I always bear it myself: for I do not boast of +my temper. If you will consider your interest——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What’s that to you?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Very true: so good bye till to-morrow. If +you should want me sooner, it may give you the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.60'>60</span>least trouble to send to Finch’s glass-house, near +at hand. I am going there now; and one or +other of us will be on the premises till night. I +wish you joy of that lad Brennan. If you make +the most of him, you may find yourselves in luck. +Good day.”</p> + +<h3 id='ch3.4' class='c016'><span class='sc'>Chapter IV.</span><br> <br>THE PHENOMENON AGAIN.</h3> + +<p class='c017'>Mrs. Durell was the only acquaintance Anna +wished to have in the neighbourhood of her new +home. From what Durell had dropped about +her, and from her being a native of Jersey, it +seemed desirable that the women of Le Brocq’s +family should know her. They gave broad hints +to this effect; and Durell frequently promised +that his wife should come and offer neighbourly +assistance to the strangers: but she never came.</p> + +<p class='c001'>This neglect could not appear wonderful to +any one who knew the parties. Durell projected +more achievements for his wife than she could +have executed if he had himself imposed no toils +and cares upon her: and, besides, she had long +learned to distrust his opinions of new people, +and to dread his introductions to strangers; and +for his sake as much as her own, she deferred to +the last moment the forming of any new connexions, +even of common acquaintanceship. She +never reminded him, otherwise than by distant +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.61'>61</span>allusion, of the delightful family whom he had +bidden her receive as friends, not thinking of +doubting their honour because some mystery hung +about them,—the family of dear friends who were +afterwards all hanged or transported for coining. +She never spoke of the runaway apprentice who +had been housed by them that he might have the +advantage of a fair trial on the stage, and who +disappeared with his host’s best suit of clothes, with +which to figure on some other stage. She allowed +her husband to forget the scrape she had been +brought into when taken up as a receiver of stolen +goods, because she had been daily seen in company +with the gipsies in whose society he delighted. +She did not trouble him by a recurrence +to past misfortunes; but she naturally grew +more and more careful to avoid any future ones. +On the present occasion, she held back, partly +with the desire that something should be ascertained +respecting the character of the Le Brocqs +before she involved herself with them, and partly +that her husband’s quarter’s salary might be in +the purse before she was called upon to exercise +hospitality. As often as Durell extolled +Anna as the sweetest and softest of maidens, with +a cheek which shamed the report that the lasses +of a Jersey farm-house blush yellow, and an eye +whose timid glance never fell before another, +the wife assured herself that she should only +see one more of the multitude of divinities +who had caught her husband’s fancy without impairing +his constancy to her. As often as he +told her what she lost in not witnessing the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.62'>62</span>initiation of Le Brocq and his partner into life +in Lambeth, she felt that she could wait for the +spectacle of their peculiarities till she wanted that +variety at home which her husband’s caprices incessantly +provided for her.</p> + +<p class='c001'>She was glad that his employment took him +abroad during the early part of the day, that he +might escape witnessing the toils which he imposed +upon her. One morning, for instance, +when she had evaded his question whether she +would go that day to see Mrs. Le Brocq and the +blessed Anna, she had to assist her maid in baking +an extempore batch of bread, because one +hearty person after another had been invited in, +the night before, who had eaten up warm all that +had just come out of the oven. An array of +glasses, with remains of spirit and water, stood +to be rinsed and put away. His coat lay craving +mending in the flap, which had been almost torn +off by the snappish dog, brought home because +he thought it had lost itself. A beautiful piece +of French china was to be put together again, if +possible, the child having broken it after warnings +duly repeated. Nobody could be more +sorry for the disaster than Durell himself. He +seemed ready to weep over his mother’s favourite +bowl; but he really did not suppose the child +would have let it down, and he had not the heart +to take away any beautiful thing from before its +eyes. It might please Heaven some day to take +away the child’s eyesight, and then who would +think of the china being broken, while in the +sufferer’s mind it remained entire, an additional +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.63'>63</span>form of grace. It was impossible to dispute this +reasoning while such a sufferer sat in the chimney-corner; +and the bowl was carefully laid +aside to be mended.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Mother,” said Mary, “do let me take my +work into the parlour. I can stitch and wait +upon Stephen too.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Stay where you are, my dear. Jack can +wait upon Stephen. If you finish your wrist-band +in half an hour, you shall help to mend the +bowl.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mary knew there was no use in repeating her +request. She could only sigh when she heard +Jack’s bursts of laughter at Stephen’s droll faces, +and wish that Stephen would come into the +kitchen, and make faces there. When Stephen +began to sing, all went well; for he could be +heard, not only in the kitchen, but across the +street. Some time after the song had come to an +end, when two inches of stitching still remained +to be done, Mary heard a tinkling among the +unwashed glasses, and looked up.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, mother,” cried she, “there’s Jack draining +the glasses!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The little fellow explained that it was in behalf +of Stephen, who had asked for these remains +of spirit and water, because he was dry with singing. +Mrs. Durell shook the flour from her hands, +filled a fresh glass of spirit and water, and carried +it herself to Stephen, requesting him to be +so kind as not to offer a drop to the child. If he +would call when he had done his glass, Jack +should return to wait upon him. She meantime +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.64'>64</span>encouraged the boy to talk to her, in order to +prevent his stealing back to Stephen before he +was called. Jack was already as like his father +as an infant can be to a grown man; and it was +undesirable to give him any pleasant associations +with a dram. Jack began with his usual question,</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Why can’t Stephen see?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>He had been told by the maid that it was because +Stephen had no eyes; and he wanted to +see whether this would be the reply now given. +His mother told him that Stephen’s eyes were +not like other people’s. Jack was now baffled. +He had prepared his answer,—that Stephen had +two eyes, for he had walked round Stephen and +counted his eyes.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But,” said he, “if his eyes are not like ours, +how did he see Betty just going to let down the +milk?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“He never did, my dear. He never sees anything.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, but he did: for he pulled away his coat +tail, for fear the milk should fall upon it. Besides, +he has two eyes, for I saw them myself.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Whether Stephen’s ears were as serviceable as +his eyes were the contrary, may be left to conjecture: +but, before Mrs. Durell could question +the child as to what he meant about the milk, +Stephen was groping his way into the kitchen, and +jokingly asking whether he could not assist in the +baking. He had kneaded bread in his day, he +said, and no one was more fond of the steams of +the oven. He and Jack were presently busy +with blind-man’s-buff, while Mary made a finish +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.65'>65</span>to her wrist-band with terrible long stitches, in +order to put away everything that might be +knocked down, and join in the sport, till mother +should be ready to mend the china.</p> + +<p class='c001'>While she stood breathless to see what would +become of Jack, now penned in a corner, stifling +his screams and stamping, as Stephen’s broad +hands seemed descending on his head, a tap at +the door was heard, and Mary was desired to +open it. As Anna stepped in, with a gentle inquiry +whether she might speak with Mrs. Durell, +Jack had an unexpected escape. Stephen relinquished +his search in the corner, and slipped +cleverly into the back parlour to search for his +victim, though the child shouted,</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I am not there, Stephen: indeed I am not +there. I am here.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mary pushed the noisy child into the parlour, +and shut the door, that her mother might be able +to hear what the visitor had to say.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I hope you will not take it amiss that I +came, Mrs. Durell; but Mr. Durell told us we +might ask you anything we wanted, as strangers, +to know. Our name is Le Brocq.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“A name I know very well, through my husband. +Pray sit down, and tell me if I can be of +any service to you. Mary, set a chair.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Mr. Durell said you would come, or I should +have come before,” observed Anna. “He thinks +as we do, that God makes men love their country +that they may help one another when they chance +to be far away from it. That is,—I don’t know +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.66'>66</span>that we can help you; but you may like to talk +about Jersey sometimes.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, yes. We are very fond of thinking of +Jersey. But can I assist you? As new-comers, +you may want to be put in the way of something.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Why, we do; and my mother thought you +would tell us where you buy your tea. We are +sure they cheat us as new-comers, and I don’t +know what we shall do if it goes on.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You do not expect to get fine tea at half-a-crown +a pound, I suppose, as you did at St. +<a id='corr3.66.13'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='Heliers.’'>Heliers.”</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_3.66.13'><ins class='correction'>Heliers.”</ins></a></span></p> + +<p class='c001'>“We did not know—I don’t exactly see—Nobody +told us there would be such a difference.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“The difference there always is where the +king lays on taxes.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, yes: but the taxes are such a mere +nothing, we are told! And there is such a difference +between half-a-crown and seven shillings! +The king can never spend all that difference on +all the tea that is sold; especially as they say +the Company get as much as they wish, selling +it at half-a-crown in Jersey and Guernsey.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“The Company has not to keep excisemen in +the neighbourhood of every tea-shop, to take +stock, and weigh the tea, and measure the canisters; +and to see that prosecutions are set on foot +when the excise laws are broken. All this cannot +be done without money; and so the king +does not get all the difference we have to pay.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“So you pay seven shillings a pound for tea?”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_3.67'>67</span>“We did; but now we find we must be content +with a lower-priced tea. We pay 5<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i>, +and we don’t take it three times a day, or make +it so good as we did in Jersey.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ah! but my mother has no idea of any +change from what we used to do at home; and +my father says we shall be ruined presently, if we +go on paying away money as we do now. Till +we came here, we had seldom anything to pay +for but tea and sugar, and the tax; but now we +have to buy almost everything; and we get quite +frightened. The tea cannot be done without, on +my mother’s account: but I must see whether I +cannot manage to make some things at home +that we now pay high for.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“That will hardly help you much; for if you +happen to miss the tax on the manufacture, you +will have to pay the tax on the materials. In this +country, you can scarcely use anything that is +not taxed either in the material or in the making; +and there is the difference between this place and +Jersey. But, to set against this, what you sell +is dearer, as well as what you buy.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But not in a way that profits us, my father +says. If he reckoned only the clay, brought +from Devonshire, and the mill, and the wheel +and lathe, and the furnaces, and the salt, these +would not cost enough to prevent the ware from +being very cheap. But the coals pay tax, and +the bricks pay tax, as well as the ware itself; +and, especially, the men’s wages are high, because +all that those wages buy is taxed: and my father +has to pay all these taxes, and wait so long before +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.68'>68</span>he is paid again, that it requires a great deal +of money to carry on his business, just at the +time that we have to spend more for our living +than we ever did before.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ah! my dear, you have not yet got used to +the ways of living in England. You never knew +in Jersey, nor we either, what it was to fall short +of money, though there was never much more +than enough for present small purposes. Here +it is the custom to receive larger sums, and to +pay away largely also: so that it requires very +close calculation to avoid being out of cash sometimes.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You find it so!” cried Anna, in a delighted +tone. “Now, let me mend that china bowl for +you, while you tell me all about it.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mary put in her claim to be allowed to help; +and while she worked the cement, and Anna +nicely joined in bit after bit of the fragments, +Mrs. Durell explained that she did not mean to +say but that her husband was very properly paid; +but that in a country whose custom is to charge +the prices of commodities with a variety of taxes, +the prices are not only high, but high in different +proportions; and the charges get so complicated +that people cannot at all tell how their money +goes, and can with difficulty frame their calculations +of expense when they come from a country +where they have been accustomed to pay their +contribution direct to the state. The only certainty +is, that the articles they most need will +bear the heaviest tax charge; because, in its +choice of taxable articles, government naturally +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.69'>69</span>fixes on those which must be most extensively +bought. And, as she shaped her loaf, she told +how much bread, yielding duty, had been consumed +within those walls since yesterday morning. +Her husband had told her of a cruel method +of taxation in Holland, in old times, when so +much was paid to government for every loaf that +passed the mouth of the oven. Disagreeable as +this method must be, she doubted whether it could +be so costly as the management by which the +price of bread was raised in this country.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ah! I see you look surprised at the quantity +of bread we bake: but my husband likes to be +hospitable.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Such a man must like it,” replied Anna.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What kind of man do you mean?” asked +the wife, smiling.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Men that give their best attention to what is +of most consequence, instead of least. Mr. Durell +looks very grave and attentive when he is talking +to Mr. Studley, and counting the pots that come +out of the kiln; but his mind is given to very +different things from those. If Mr. Durell had +but the shoes on his feet in all the world, he +would give them to the first lame beggar he met, +and go barefoot.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“He would. You know him,” replied the +wife. “He does as he would be done by.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“He would leave the gleanings of the field, +and the missed olives, for the widow, and the +fatherless, and the stranger, if he lived in the +Scripture land,” continued Anna; “and the reason +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.70'>70</span>why is, because he had rather see people happy +than grow rich himself.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You should hear him when he speaks the +piece of poetry that he loves above all others, +though he knows a vast deal. It is about mercy +that ‘blesses him that gives and him that takes.’”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“That is Scripture,” replied Anna, gravely. +‘And how the Lord Jesus said that it is more +blessed to give than to receive.’”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“The one comes of the other, no doubt; but +it is in poetry that he tells it to me. He has +mercy for ever on his tongue. It is a sort of +rule of his, in judging of other people. But people +are very apt to say that justice and mercy do +not agree.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“How can they think of God, then?” asked +Anna. “But if such a man as Mr. Durell is not +always as just as he should be, it may be owing +to something else than his being merciful.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“How do you mean ‘not just?’” inquired +the wife, rather coldly.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I am sure we have no reason to think him +otherwise than just in the business he has to do +in the pottery,” replied Anna. “He is very +strict and honourable to the king; and when he +seems hard on my father, we know it is not his +fault. But he speaks a little unfairly of people +sometimes——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Only when they do mean things.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Well: but still harshly; and if he puts more +upon you than is quite your share, and gives +away money, now, don’t pretend to think +such things right——it may be owing to his having +been badly taught, or more sorely tempted +than we are, and not to his tender heart.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I would not hear so much from another,” +said Mrs. Durell; “but you mean no pain to +me, nor slight to him, I see. And so I will say +that I am so much of your mind, that I do not +grudge baking bread even for those that eat it +only for the sake of the spirit that is to wash it +down; and as to the money we owe, God knows +how vexed I am when I cannot pay it without +putting my husband in mind of it. There is a +poor creature with us now——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Here’s papa,” cried Mary.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Durell entered, looking not quite so full of +mercy as Anna had sometimes seen him. He +asked his wife sternly, why she had allowed a +stranger to come and ask as a favour that which +she ought to have offered?</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Well, John, I am sorry. I can truly say it. +I am sorry I missed knowing this young woman +till now.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Anna interposed with a piece of information +that she had lately gained,—that it was dangerous +to make new acquaintances in London, without +a very precise knowledge who people were; and +how should Mrs. Durell know who they were?</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What more has she learned of that since +breakfast?” inquired Durell. Anna looked bashful +while she acknowledged that Mrs. Durell had +yet had no further testimony than her own word +for her respectability.</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_3.71'>71</span>“But she has,” replied Durell. “The impress +of truth upon the brow—God’s own seal. She +might have trusted me for knowing it at sight.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“It having never deceived you, John,—do +you mean to say? Ah! you are going to protest +that you knew all the time when people were +cheating you. I ask no more than that you +should let me see for myself when there is truth +sealed upon the brow. I will not be so long in +looking for it, next time.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Mr. Durell,” said Anna, “Aaron has been +with you this morning; did he——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I beg your pardon. Your brother has not +been with me this morning.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I heard him directed to go, and to give you +notice of something. I was going to ask whether +he told you that Brennan is to be let off his work, +as you wished, for some reason,—I don’t know +what. He said something about it to Mr. Studley,—that +you were going to get some new +clothes for him.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Did I promise that? O, I remember. The +lad’s a genius, my dear,” (to his wife,) “and we +must find up a suit of clothes for him, in some +way; and then——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mrs. Durell shrugged her shoulders, while +Anna explained that after the clothes should +come the holiday.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I thank you much. I thank your father as +for a favour done to myself,” replied Durell. +“My very best thanks to your father.——Jack, +my boy, what’s the matter now?” cried he, +snatching up the child, who was whimpering, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.72'>72</span>and only wanted encouragement to burst into a +loud cry.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Stephen won’t let me go with him. Stephen +is getting out of the window, and he won’t lift +me out that I may lead him.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>True enough; Stephen was found stepping +out of the low parlour window into the street.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Poor fellow! what fancy has taken him now?” +said Durell, running into the parlour, followed +by every body from the kitchen. “He is a singular +character,” he proceeded to explain to +Anna. “It has pleased the Almighty to lay a +heavy hand upon him, and to permit us to lighten +the burden. I always held that this outward +darkening of the man was like the shrouding of +the firmament in midnight,—making all that +moves in it the brighter and clearer; and, since +I have known this man, I am sure of it.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“He is not blind,” said Anna, quietly. “We +know him well; we have too good reason to +know him. He carried off half our stock of +linen.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You are mistaken,” averred Durell, with +sparkling eyes. “He has been living in our +house,—never out of our sight, ever since you +came to London.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Anna explained that she referred to a time before +her family left Jersey. Mrs. Durell looked +at her husband, as if appealing to him whether +Stephen had not proved himself familiar with +Jersey.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Damn your suspicious glances!” cried +Durell. “You give glances that you know the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.73'>73</span>poor fellow can’t see, because you are afraid to +speak your thought in words that he can hear. +Curse your cold-hearted way of giving ear to +every slander you hear!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Do not say slander,” replied Anna. “I +charge Stephen before his face. Let him say +how he left our farm. Could a blind man, seen +to his rest at night, find his way through the +kitchen and out at the door of a strange house, +and through the yard, and past the orchard down +to the brook, and over the narrow foot-bridge, +before he could even get to the winding lane, +and then——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Stuff! All nothing to do with it!” cried +Durell. “It was another man.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Even my Jack found out that Stephen could +see,” interposed Mrs. Durell.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Shame on you! Shame to oppress an afflicted +man on the word—the fancy of a child that has +a fancy for marvels!” cried Durell. “God forgive +me for such a scandal happening in my +house! As if it was not enough that God’s +blessed light is taken away, so that the afflicted +cannot know his country by its lying green in +the midst of the blue waters,—as if it was not +enough that he must return daily thanks for daily +bread to strangers that bestow charity, instead of +to God that rewards toil,—but he must be insulted +before those from whom he has his all! Have +done with your sly looks, and your hinting that +he is not blind! Bring me a dumb man that shall +swear a perjured oath, and a deaf one that shall +leer at a foul song, and I will believe that this +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.74'>74</span>sightless creature is he that robbed you. Then I +will turn him out; but till then I will protect +him. Sit down, Stephen.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I must go,” said Anna. “I say nothing +now, Mr. Durell, about protection being every +body’s right; and, as to insult——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The tears sprang to her eyes, and she found it +best to hasten away. She did not think she could +stand another fiery glance from Durell, or bear +to look again at Stephen, as he stood, the personification +of resigned meekness.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You will come again,” said Mrs. Durell, +anxiously, as she followed Anna to the door.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I don’t know, indeed. Mr. Durell would +make one think one’s self wrong, in spite of every +thing. He means only to be generous. He +almost frightens me, lest I should have made a +great mistake. I am sure, in that case, I could +not do enough to make up for it. But, if ever I +was certain, it is now.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“There is no mistake, my dear, depend upon +it. I have been suspecting, for some time, that +Stephen is not so blind as he seems. Do not fret +yourself about anything my husband said: but I +am very sorry——the first time of your coming——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, don’t be sorry. If it had been you, I +should have minded it much more. Do you +know, Mrs. Durell, I often wonder what would +become of us all, if women quarrelled as men do.——Well; +I know it is said that women’s quarrels +are very sharp; it may be so, though I have +never been in the way of seeing any: but there +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.75'>75</span>is something so deep and awful in men’s quarrels, +that I can hardly fancy their being heartily made +up again.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mrs. Durell looked as if waiting for a further +explanation; but Anna caught another glimpse +of Durell, and was gone.</p> + +<h3 id='ch3.5' class='c016'><span class='sc'>Chapter V.</span><br> <br> AN ECONOMICAL PROJECT.</h3> + +<p class='c017'>Anna spoke from strong feeling when she reported +ill of men’s tempers. In her own family +the maternal despotism had been very quietly +borne; and the paternal rule, however strict, +could not materially interfere with the objects +and pleasures of the young women in a retired +farm-house. But Aaron had never been quiet in +the yoke; and Malet sometimes forgot the policy +of the lover in resenting the dictation of the +father of his beloved. Since the removal of the +family to London, there had been frequent contests +between Le Brocq and Aaron, each of +which was more bitter and more useless than the +last. It was as absurd in Le Brocq to treat his +son as a child, as it was in Aaron to conclude +that every order given him by his father must be +more or less wrong. The effect of the mutual +folly was to throw Aaron into league with Studley,—a +league which began when Studley smiled +at Le Brocq’s instructions to his son on matters +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.76'>76</span>which neither of them understood; and which +was strengthened in proportion as Le Brocq became +discontented with Studley’s assumption of +authority in the establishment where he was only +foreman, after all. The proprietor was now frequently +heard to say that he had no power over +his own workmen, and that his foreman and his +son carried every thing their own way; while +Aaron had so far advanced in his progress to independence +as to refuse to answer every question +because it was a question, and to consult Studley +before he acted on any suggestion whatever. +There was, in consequence, so much constraint +in every meeting of the household, such grave +silence or painful bickerings at every meal, that +it began to be a doubt in the mind of each member +of the family, whether it would not be better +for the father and son to separate at once than +to go on in the high-road to an irreconcilable +quarrel.</p> + +<p class='c001'>On returning home, Anna walked straight +through the yard into the manufactory, hoping +that the emergency of the occasion would be a +sufficient excuse with her father for the intrusion. +She gave unintentional notice of her approach by +jingling a pile of ware as she passed.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Here they come,” said one and another +within hearing, as she advanced to the kiln where +some knocking was going on, and three or four +persons seemed to be busy. A man, who was +holding a candle stuck in a lump of clay, observed +hoarsely, “Here they come.” “Here they come,” +repeated the treble voice of the boy who was receiving +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.77'>77</span>the blocks of baked clay which had filled +up the arch. “Are they coming?” asked the +mounted man who was removing the blocks, and +letting out the hot air of the kiln. “Let them +come, if they can’t let us alone for once,” growled +Le Brocq, who was satisfying his sight with the +piles of spirit casks ranged one above another in +the kiln, with each its four rims of brown ochre, +while jars and bottles were nicely packed in the +spaces between, no one touching another, but +with scarcely room for a hand to pass.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Back! back! Go in!” exclaimed Le Brocq, +when he saw Anna’s timid face, instead of meeting +the bright brown eye of Durell. “This is no +place for you. You know I desired——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But, father, I have something very particular +to say. I have seen Stephen.—No, I have not +got back our linen. I am afraid we shall never +get it back. Perhaps if you spoke to Mr. Durell——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I will—I will: when he comes this afternoon. +Go in, child. Go!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But I rather think Mr. Durell is not coming +this afternoon. He says he has not seen Aaron, +nor heard from him.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Not seen Aaron! Not had the notice! +Bless my soul! what are we ever to do at this +rate? No more of him!” suspecting that Anna +was going to say something for her absent +brother. “He shall know my mind when I see +him. Booth, do you think we may go on?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Booth considered that it would be a vexatious +thing to be informed against for such a trifle. It +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.78'>78</span>was an ugly thing, too, to run the risk of the +penalty. He stood with the bar in his hand, +ringing it against the bricks.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You can bear witness that I did all I could, +by sending my son with a notice,” observed Le +Brocq. “I dare say we shall find it is some +mistake of Anna’s. It is too late now to defer +the drawing.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“As you please, sir: not that I can exactly +say I witnessed Mr. Aaron’s being sent with the +notice; but I dare say it will be all safe enough, +sir. Shall I go on?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You could not draw all the large, and leave +the duty-paid, could you? No, no; I see that +would not do. You may go on.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Studley came up while the hot ware was being +quickly handed from man to boy, and from boy +to the ground where it must stand to cool.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“So! No spies to-day! We are in luck. +I thought Durell would oblige me so far as to +consider you, as I made a point of requesting +that he would. I congratulate you on having +your premises to yourself, sir, for once. I shall +take care and thank Durell.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Speak for yourself, if you please, sir, but not +for me. I am quite capable of thanking any person +that I feel obliged to.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Studley made a ceremonious bow; and immediately +asked Booth whether, in his old master’s +time, it had ever been allowed to place the +ware for cooling in such a manner as he now +beheld.</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_3.79'>79</span>“Why, no,” replied Booth; “but such are +my orders.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Do you mean to talk to my men about their +old master before my face?” asked Le Brocq.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“A rather superfluous question, sir, if you +heard what I said.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, father!” interposed Anna, breathlessly. +“How I wish you would take us back to Jersey, +and let Malet and Louise come here. My mother +is always talking about the cows, and——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And you want to be milking them again, +child? Go away. Go to your mother. Nobody +can leave me to my own business, I think.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“If you think so, sir,” said Studley, “perhaps +we had better part.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“With all my heart, Mr. Studley. I should +not have made the proposal first, as you are an +old servant of my uncle’s; but since you offer +it, I am quite willing; and the sooner the better, +if I may declare my opinion.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The work-people within hearing had all suspended +their business to listen to this amiable +dialogue; and the having an audience determined +Studley to finish with dignity. He thought it a +pity that Mr. Le Brocq had not been more explicit. +He would have conferred an obligation +by being so; for an office of high honour and +profit had been within reach of his humble servant +for some little time past, which he should +certainly have accepted but for the promise he +had given his old master not to refuse his best +services to the new proprietor,—with a sort of +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.80'>80</span>understanding, moreover, that some acknowledgment +in the form of some kind of partnership +would follow.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Out of the question entirely, Le Brocq declared. +While he had a son and a son-in-law——</p> + +<p class='c001'>Beside the question entirely, Studley averred. +The son-in-law being in charge of the Jersey +farm (unlike all other farms, if the family report +were true), and the son being in course of establishing +himself in a distinct line of business, +there could be no competitor;—not that he now +desired a partnership. He would not accept the +largest share that the nature of his services could +be supposed to authorise; the office he spoke of +being, to a man of ambition like himself, so far +preferable. He would take leave to commence +his canvas immediately; explaining to all his +friends (meaning no offence) the reasons of his +appearing so tardily in the field.</p> + +<p class='c001'>A pang shot through the heart of Le Brocq at +the intimation that his son was about to leave +him. He made no inquiry, and had the resolution +to avoid showing that the intelligence was +new to him. While he commanded every man +to resume his employment, Studley stalked out +of the manufactory by one door, while Anna stole +back by the way she had come.</p> + +<p class='c001'>In the yard she met Aaron. Her immediate +object was to prevent his meeting his father at +present. She wanted to know whether he had +delivered the notice a sufficient number of hours +before. No: he had had something else to do +first. He meant to go presently. When told +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.81'>81</span>that it was too late, he supposed that it would +not signify, but did not see why there should +have been such a prodigious hurry about drawing +the kiln. He was sure Studley could not have +authorised it.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Anna had so much to ask and to tell that she +wished Aaron would now go with her, as he had +promised, on an expedition which must not be +much longer delayed. It was time to be thinking +about a washing of clothes; there having +been none since the unfortunate one which Stephen +had turned into an occasion of disaster. +Anna and her mother knew nothing yet of English +society which could lead them to suppose +that there was anything peculiar in their methods +touching the purification of their apparel; but as +their stock had been somewhat circumscribed +since the trespass of the thief, Anna began to +think of arranging the circumstances of time and +place; and in a few minutes, when she had accounted +to her mother for her proceedings, her +brother and she were on their way in search of a +clear stream where the operation might be conducted +after the only method she had yet heard +or conceived of.</p> + +<p class='c001'>It seemed a pity to wander so far from home, +when a prodigious river was running near the +back door: but Anna had watched the Thames, +through all its moods, for a fortnight, and had +never found it sufficiently pure for her purpose. +Besides, there were so many people always about +that she should not have courage to sing at the +pitch which was necessary to insure good washing. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.82'>82</span>Her having seen no washing in the river +since she came was a strong presumption that +the Thames did not afford the proper bath. It +must be some pure brook between two green hills, +with alder bushes on which to hang the linen to +dry, and some quiet nook where it might be deposited +for a night or two in safety. Such a +brook were the brother and sister now in +search of, on a hot day in June, when alders +and green banks would be peculiarly refreshing. +They were prepared for having some way to go, +which was very well. They were in no hurry, +and promised each other not to return till they +had accomplished their object. They little +knew what they promised; for, though they +were cured of the fancy of myrtles before the +house and an orchard behind, they had no +doubt whatever that “country” meant hill and +dale, wood and stream. When they arrived at +Kennington Common, they stood and laughed +at the entire absence of trees, quite as much as +from the pleasure of seeing an expanse of green +once more. While panting with heat, they wondered +that the Kennington people did not prefer +high banks with overhanging hedges to white +palings which fatigued the eye under a summer +sun. The stream which flanks the Brixton road +was the first thing they saw which could at all +answer their purpose; and this was decided to +be too public. On they wandered, tempted by +the sight of rising ground, to some lanes near +Herne Hill and Dulwich; and in these lanes, and +the fields which bordered them, Anna found +something at last which nearly satisfied her heart. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.83'>83</span>There was a carpet of daisies under foot; and +wild roses, some blushing and unfolding, others +flaring and bleached in the sun, bloomed in the +hedges. There were no sleek Jersey cows, with +their delicate taper horns and countenances more +refined than ever cows had before; and Anna was +disappointed as often as she unconsciously looked +for the blue sea through a gap in the hedge: +but the smell of hay came from some place near, +and a thorn which stood in a damp nook had +still blossom enough to remind her of an apple +tree. This thorn suggested a happy thought; +and Anna was glad to perceive, on looking round +her, that thorns were abundant in the neighbouring +field. She had heard something of thorn leaves +being dried to mix with tea. The most terrifying +of the many fearful household expenses of the +Le Brocqs was tea; and it would be a great relief +to lessen it one-half by mixing a large proportion +of English tea with the foreign.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And there is the kiln to dry it in,” suggested +Aaron. “The frying-pan full can be dried in +no time; and I will look to the shaking the pan, +if my father does not like that you should have +anything to do with the kiln.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And if we find it really good tea, I may +perhaps mix some for sale, and get enough profit +to find us in tea. I am sure that would please +my father; and my mother might drink as much +as she likes.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Anna lost no time in spreading her shawl on +the ground, and plucking leaves from the lower +boughs, while her brother climbed somewhat +higher, and chose the most juicy sprouts from the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.84'>84</span>youngest shoots. They agreed that some good +might arise out of the extravagantly high prices +which prevailed in England. In Jersey, where +they paid for tea only one-third what was +charged in London, they should never have +thought of making use of the leaves of the thorn; +and they supposed that, as they had been made +inventive in this one particular, the people of +England might be generally ingenious in a similar +manner.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Several persons passed through the field before +the green heap on the shawl had grown very +large. A woman with a basket on her arm and +a little boy at her heels looked back again and +again, all the way to the stile, and then had to +return to fetch away her child, who stood staring, +as if longing to help.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You have a basket, I see,” said Anna, smiling. +“If you like to carry away any leaves, +pray help yourself.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What may they be for?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“To mix with tea. Tea is so very dear now! +I suppose you drink tea?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, yes, ma’am, we take tea,” said the woman: +but, instead of filling her basket, she shook +a handful of leaves from her child’s grasp, and, +disregarding his roaring, took him up on one +arm, and her basket on the other, and carried +him till he was fairly past the stile.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Presently came two men, bustling along, as if +it had been the coldest day in January. They +halted, however, near the bush.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I say,” cried one of them, after a whisper +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.85'>85</span>from his companion; “what are ye arter +there?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>From out of the bush, Aaron made the same +answer that his sister had before given.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Smash me! if that baint a good ’un!” cried +he, looking at his companion; and all the way +as they proceeded, they were evidently talking of +what they had seen.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Next approached a stooping old labourer, in +a smock-frock, and with a scythe over his shoulder. +He walked painfully, and stopped near the +thorn to wipe his brows.</p> + +<p class='c001'>He kindly warned the young people to take +care what they were about. He considered them +very bold to do what they were doing by broad +daylight, in a field which was a thoroughfare.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“We have just done,” replied Anna, colouring. +“We are going away directly.” And she +drew close to Aaron, to call him away, and tell him +her fears that the owner of the thornbush would +not like their gathering the leaves, if he knew of it. +They had better go somewhere else for as many +more as they wanted. As they tied up the shawl +by the corners, and sauntered away, the old labourer +shook his head at them several times; but was +silent as an unquestioned oracle. There was no +disturbance of the kind when they had transferred +their exertions to a more private inclosure; and +they obtained as large a supply as the shawl +could possibly hold before they stopped to rest.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Now, let us sit down, and I will tell you +something,” said Anna.—Aaron stretched himself +out at length on the grass, using his bundle +for a pillow.</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_3.86'>86</span>“You must not go to sleep,” continued Anna. +“I have been to Mrs. Durell this morning,—(what +an odd thing that she did not put me in +mind of this way of getting tea, when I was complaining +of the price!)—and there I saw somebody +else, besides Mrs. Durell and her husband. +I saw Stephen.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Stephen!” cried Aaron, starting up, now in +no danger of going to sleep. “You silly girl, +why did not you tell me that before?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Because I was afraid you would go and be +in a passion with Mr. Durell,—as I am afraid you +will be when I have told you all he said,—though, +I’m sure, I am very willing to excuse him. But, +Aaron,—do sit down, Aaron. It will do just as +well when we get home again.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>As if a man who had escaped once could not +escape again! Aaron said. If Stephen was above +ground, he would get hold of him,—not only +because he had betrayed hospitality, and stolen +the linen, but because he had told lies about the +ways of going on in England,—with all his talk +of nobody paying taxes in England, or merely +such a trifle that they never found it out.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But indeed he will not get away,” declared +Anna. “Mr. Durell said he should keep him, +and was so angry with me for being sure that it +was our Stephen, that I quite expect Stephen will +stay and brave it out. We will go together, and +try what we can do to get back the linen, if——O, +Aaron! if you will but try to keep your temper. +But, indeed, Aaron, I had rather lose all +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.87'>87</span>the clothes I have left,—everything I have in the +world,—than see you lose your temper as you +do sometimes.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What is it to you?” asked Aaron.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You have asked me that very often before, +and I have always told you——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Yes; I know—I know. But I am not half +so likely to be surly even to Stephen as to——I +tell you, Anna, you have no idea what it is to be +under my father, every hour of the day.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Have not I? I think I have; for, though +I do not want more freedom myself, I know what +it must be to you to want it. It makes me turn +sometimes hot and sometimes cold when I hear +him answer for you to strangers, as if you were +a child, or settling all your little matters at home, +without so much as ever looking in your face to +see how you like what he is doing.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Really! Do you always see that? If I +had known that——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You might have known it. You did know +it; for I have told you so a hundred times.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But one can never be sure of it at the moment; +and you always keep your head down so, +when my father and I have any words.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Because I am always thinking what a pity +it is that neither of you is ready with a soft answer; +and I must say, you ought to be the +readiest, from your being the son. But is it +really true that you are going to leave my father?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Who said such a thing?”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_3.88'>88</span>“Mr. Studley told my father so, before several +of the men, and they must have seen that he +did not know it before.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“My father must have put him into a passion, +or he would not have let it out till next +week. How much more did he tell you?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Nothing; but you must let me know all +now; and my father as soon as we go home.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“There is no reason for its being a secret, +further than that the plans are not all settled yet. +Studley happened to know of a glass-bottle work, +where they will be glad to take in an active young +partner, with the prospect of his joining the +stone-bottle making with it, by and bye. Now, +you need not look so shocked, as if anybody was +thinking of making away with my father. The +thing is this;—that Studley is sure my father +will soon be tired of carrying on his pottery business +by himself, and will be off for Jersey again; +and then the business will come to me: and no +two businesses can be more fit to go on together +than the black-glass and the stone-ware. +Studley says I shall be one of the first men in +London, some day.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But where is it? Who taught you to make +glass? What can you know about it?” asked +the alarmed sister.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“If I told you I was going to break stones for +the roads, I believe you would ask who had +taught me. Why, it is not so difficult to make +bottle-glass as our fish-soup. Put river sand and +soapers’ waste into the furnace, and there you +have it;—or, if you like it better, common sand +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.89'>89</span>and lime, with a little clay or sea salt. What +can be easier than that? And where is the risk, +with materials that you may pick up from under +your feet almost wherever you go?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“If that were all;—but there are so many +things besides the making and selling that have +to be attended to in this country!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Why, that is true; or I fancy we should see +twice as much glass in people’s houses as we do. +Everybody thinks glass beautiful, and everybody +who has tried it finds it convenient; and yet, I +hear, though there are nearly twice as many +people to use it, and twice as much money to buy +it with, there is less glass used in this country +than there was fifty years ago.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Then I am sure I would have nothing to do +with it.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I would not, unless I saw the reason, and +was pretty sure that the state of things would +change. ’Tis this meddling of the excise that +plagues the glass-makers, and makes them charge +the article high,—far higher in proportion than +we have to charge our stone bottles.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“That is what I meant when you laughed at +me for being afraid. I did not doubt that you +might melt sand and the other stuff properly; +but I thought you might not understand all about +the taxes.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Why not as well as another man? to say +nothing of a particular good reason I shall have +for knowing. O, I shall only have to give notice of +drawing out bottles; taking care that the notice +is given between six in the morning and eight in +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.90'>90</span>the evening; and that the pots are charged with +fresh materials while the officers are by; and +that the material is worked within sixteen hours +after the time mentioned; and that I put down +the right number of bottles when I write the declaration, +for fear of being taken in for a fine of +100<i>l.</i>; and——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Why, this is worse than what my father has +to attend to!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But not so bad as if I were going to make +other kinds of glass besides the common black +article. There are thirty-two clauses in the Act +that the glass-makers have to work by; and +several of them will not concern me.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I should think that is very lucky; for, you +see, you don’t always remember to give notice, +when you are sent on purpose.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I declare I did not forget it. I had something +else to do first, that was all; and my father +was in one of his hurries. However, if any mischief +comes of it, I will bear the blame and the +cost; and no man can do more.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I doubt that: I mean that you might be +careful not to ruffle another mind as well as your +own. I am sure, Aaron, if you were standing +on our poquelaye, as you used to do, and could +with a breath bring up or blow away thunder-clouds +that were ready to blacken the old castle, +and set the seafowl screaming, and throw a gloom +over the wide sea and the green land, it would +be your pleasure to keep all bright, and send the +ugly shade down the sky; and yet, if my father +and you find each other ever so calm——”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_3.91'>91</span>“What does it signify? The blackest clouds +are soon gone, one way or another.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But it is not with our minds and our passions +as it is with the sky and the sea. It is +God’s pleasure that when the sky is cleared, the +face of the earth should be brighter than ever: +but when a quarrel has overshadowed kindness, +the brightest of the sunshine is gone for ever.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Aaron found it convenient to look up into the +actual sky for something to say; and he declared +that it was well he did, for some such clouds as +his sister had described were making their appearance +above the tree-tops which were beginning +to rustle in the rising wind. They lost no time +in returning, resolving neither to look for more +streams, nor to turn aside to call at the Durells’.—Before +they reached home, the streets were as +plashy as any lane in Jersey, (which is saying a +great deal,) and the wind roared among the +houses like the fiercest furnace which was to be +under Aaron’s charge. The wet was dripping +from all the corners of the bundle they carried; +and Aaron undertook to spread out its contents +in the manufactory to dry, while his sister hastened +into the house.</p> + +<div> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_3.92'>92</span> + <h3 id='ch3.6' class='c016'><span class='sc'>Chapter VI.</span><br> <br>LESSONS IN LOYALTY.</h3> +</div> + +<p class='c017'>In the house sat a merry party;—a really mirthful +set of countenances surrounded the table. +Anna wondered for a moment what could have +called up a hearty laugh from her father, this +day; but when she saw that Durell was present, +there was no longer any mystery. He and a +companion seemed in a fair way to demolish +a pie which Anna knew her mother made a great +point of for to-morrow’s dinner; and (of all odd +companions) he had seated beside him Brennan, +the poor boy who wrought at the wheel. Brennan +sometimes made a little progress in diminishing +the savoury food which his patron was heaping +on his plate; and then drew back behind Durell’s +broad shoulders, to hide the laughter which he +could not restrain when jokes went round. Master +Jack was upon the table, on hands and knees, +looking into the pie and the ale pitcher by turns. +Mrs. Le Brocq was plying her needle with all +imaginable diligence, only stopping when an +agony of mirth shook her ponderous form. Le +Brocq himself had a glass of ale in his hand, and +a twinkle of good humour in his eye. What +could all this be about? Durell had been applying +some of his natural magic to kindle hearts +and melt resolves. He had so vehemently thanked +Le Brocq for consenting to spare Brennan for a +few hours, that he had obtained possession of the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.93'>93</span>boy for this evening as well as to-morrow; had +set Mrs. Le Brocq to work to diminish some +hoarded clothes which Aaron had outgrown before +they were worn out, and which would now +be a treasure to Brennan; and had caused dull +care to vanish before the spirit of genial hospitality +in Le Brocq’s own heart.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Hey, Anna!” cried he. “Look at her, +dripping like a fish! Get yourself dry and warm, +my dear, before you sit down. We wondered +what had become of you. I fancied you were +up in the clouds somewhere; and, I suppose, by +your look, I was right.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Have you been up in the clouds?” demanded +Jack, opening his eyes wide upon her.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Not to-day, dear: but I was once in the +middle of a cloud, Jack.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Were you? How? Where? Had you a +ladder? Did you climb? Did you fly?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>A burst of laughter followed, which amazed +poor Jack. His father stroked his head, and +bade him not be ashamed. The last was a good +guess, whatever might be thought about the +ladder.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I was on a high hill,” said Anna, as soon as +she could be heard; “and the cloud came sailing——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Was it all golden and bright? Did it make +you shut your eyes?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Before Anna could answer, her mother sent +her to change her clothes and bring her work-bag, +undertaking to satisfy the child about the +cloud. This she attempted in the antique method,—that +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.94'>94</span>is, by saying some brilliant things +that were not true. She appended an account of +such a thunder-storm as had just happened;—how +two angry clouds ride up against each other, +and when their edges touch, they strike fire, +which is the lightning; and then one rolls over +the other, and makes a great rumbling, which is +the thunder. The frowning child, with his +mouth open, took it all in, and might have got a +desperately wrong notion of a thunder-storm for +life, if his father had not interfered.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Bless my soul, madam, what do you mean +to tell the child next? That the clouds open and +let down dogs and cats to worry naughty boys, +I suppose? I will not have my boy made sport +of, I can tell you.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Sport!” exclaimed the perplexed old lady. +“I am sure I only meant to tell him what my +mother told me.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Tell him nothing of the kind, if you please. +Fairy tales, if you like,—as many as you like,—pretty +allegories of God’s doings, which will +speak one kind of truth to him in proportion as +he finds they have not the kind of truth that he +thought. But no lies, madam;—especially, no +lies about God’s glorious works. Jack, you are +not to believe a word the lady has told you. She +was only joking with you, boy. When you have +forgotten what she said, I will tell you a true +story about a cloud.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Jack looked offended at being thus at the mercy +of two people who contradicted each other. Mrs. +Le Brocq, who did not clearly understand what +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.95'>95</span>was the matter, not knowing any more about an +allegory than about an alligator, and seeing no +great difference between a fairy tale and an +embellished fib, hung her head abashed over her +work. This showed Jack which way his vengeance +should be directed. He gave a sort of +kangaroo leap, which brought him in front of +Mrs. Le Brocq on the table, seized the top of +her cap (the high Norman peasant cap), and +pulled at it with all his might; albeit he held a +handful of hair with it. Brennan was the quickest +in rescuing the complaining lady. Durell +caught up Jack, crying—</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Bravo, boy; thou’rt as like thy father! +Never take a lie quietly, boy. But, Jack, you +have hurt the lady; ask pardon for hurting her, +Jack.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Jack asked pardon; but he would not kiss Mrs. +Le Brocq. Instead of urging the point against +the child’s evident dislike, Durell made the propitiation +himself. He respectfully replaced the cap, +delicately stroked the hair on the forehead, and +kissed the cheek;—precisely at which moment +Studley entered the room.</p> + +<p class='c001'>He professed that he was extremely sorry to +disturb the party, whom he perceived to be very +agreeably engaged; and particularly as it happened +to be a little affair of his own which +brought him into their presence. The fact was, +he had been a long round in search of Mr. Durell, +who would be found, Mrs. Durell had told +him, in the prosecution of his duty, as usual.</p> + +<p class='c001'>The office which Studley had referred to in the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.96'>96</span>morning as being his object of desire in preference +to remaining with Le Brocq, was that of Messenger +of the Excise Court, with a salary of 78<i>l.</i>, +to which he added, in his own imagination, certain +‘advantages.’ He knew that the Court +prefers candidates who are experienced in the +manufacture of exciseable commodities; and he +flattered himself that, in conjunction with other +circumstances, his having been concerned in the +glass and stone bottle manufactures, and having +mastered the secrets of soap-making, might be +powerful recommendations. In the excise, as in +all spy systems, the rule of action is, ‘set a thief +to catch a thief.’ None are found so apt at detecting +revenue frauds, and so eager in informing +against and punishing them, as those who, in +their day, have defrauded the revenue. Studley’s +pretensions were excellent, in this point of view; +and he believed that if he could make sure of the +interest of two more high personages, besides +those whose good word he had already solicited, +he should be pretty secure of the appointment.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I have merely to ask one little exertion from +you, Sir,” said he to Durell. “Everybody +knows what interest you have with the gentleman +who befriended you,—who procured you your +appointment.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Everybody but myself and he, I suppose. +Well, Sir.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Your influence is undeniable, I am well assured. +I believe I am tolerably certain of being +made messenger in the place of poor Haggart; +but it would set my mind entirely at ease if you +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.97'>97</span>would speak in my favour to the gentleman in +question.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Nobody can be more ready than I am, Sir, +to set people’s minds at ease, when I can; but +let me tell you, from the day you get this office, +you will never have a mind at ease.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ha! ha! very good! That is my own concern, +entirely, you perceive. As I was going to +say, you can speak to my fitness for the office, I +am sure. As to politics, for instance, though I +should never think of meddling, you are aware, +(which a servant of the government is understood +never to do,) yet I am decidedly a government +man. Decidedly so. You remember the part I +took in Gardiner’s election?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Perfectly well; from the pains I took on the +other side to counteract you.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Well, well; that is past and gone. You will +not object to a government servant being of government +politics, or to bearing testimony that +he is so. Your known liberality——Your humble +servant, Miss Le Brocq,” setting a chair for +Anna, as she appeared with her work-bag. “Let +none depreciate the air of Lambeth who looks +upon you, Ma’am.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I won’t detain you, Mr. Studley, to discuss +my liberality or any thing else, now your time is +so precious. I have no doubt, Sir, of your qualifications, +from the little I have seen of you; and +it gives me pleasure to serve my neighbours; but +it is against my principles that one officer in an +establishment like the Excise should stir to procure +the appointment of another. A man should +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.98'>98</span>enter his office unfettered by obligation to any of +the parties with whom he will have to do. This +has been my reason before for declining to interfere +in similar cases; and it is my reason now.—And +now, Miss Anna, I have humbly to ask your +pardon——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Excuse my interrupting you,” said Studley; +“but I trust, Sir, you will let the matter remain in +your mind, and think better of it.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“My decision is final, Mr. Studley. God +knows there is so little opportunity of acting +freely on one’s principles in such an office as +mine, that I am little likely to give up my liberty +of conscience when by chance I can use it.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>And he turned to Anna, to seek forgiveness for +his vehemence of the morning. His soul was so +sick with the sight of oppression, that he lost his +self-command (if ever he had any) at the remotest +appearance of bearing hard on the unfortunate. +He really had great confidence in Stephen. +He would lay his life that Stephen was +an honest fellow; but he admitted this to be no +reason why he should have behaved like a brute +to a lady, who had spoken under a mistake. +Studley meanwhile had turned smilingly to Le +Brocq.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I shall have better success with you, I fancy, +Sir. There is one little requisite, perhaps you are +aware, which I believe I must be indebted to you +for. This office of messenger is an office of trust. +Infinite quantities of money pass through the +hands of the messengers of the Court——”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_3.99'>99</span>“Though taxation is a mere trifle in England.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“When I speak of infinite quantities of money, +I do not, of course, intend to be taken literally; +but the recovery of common charges, as well as +of fines and penalties, is committed to the messengers; +and theirs is a situation of infinite +trust,—requiring security, of course;—small security;—not +above 500<i>l.</i> Now, where should I +look for this security but to the respectable house +which I have served,—I will say, faithfully served, +for so many years?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“To any place rather, I should think. To +say nothing, on my own account, of the doubt +whether the extravagance of living in England +will leave 500<i>l.</i> at my own disposal, it is a clear +point that an officer who has to levy charges +should not be under obligations to a man who is +subject to such charges. You must know, Studley, +that on the first disagreement, you must betray +your duty to government, or do an ungracious +thing by me; and if——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, we shall have no disagreements.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I was going to say that if we have no disagreements, +we lay ourselves open to the suspicion +of collusion. If Mr. Durell is clear on his point, +I am doubly so on mine. I cannot be your security, +Sir; which I am sorry for, as I should +be happy to show that I bear no malice on account +of what passed this morning.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Bear no malice! you do,” exclaimed Studley, +unable any longer to keep his temper. “Collusion, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.100'>100</span>indeed! You talk of suspicion of collusion, +when here I find you heaping favours upon +favours on the surveyor,—a man you never heard +of till you were in his power! Suspicion won’t +be the word long.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What does the fellow mean?” asked Durell, +his eyes lighting up.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I mean, Sir, that here is an empty pie-dish, +and an empty ale-jug; and that this is not the +first time I have seen you feasting in this house; +and that the very working boys are taken from +the wheel, and dressed and feasted too at your +request; and much besides, Sir. Little things, +Sir, which you may call trifles, Sir, are indications,—are +symptoms of great things, Sir——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Nothing truer,” said Durell, contemptuously. +“Paltry things like you, Studley, are indications +how despicable must be the little-great system to +which you will presently belong. A writhing +maggot is a symptom that the carcase is stinking.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, Mr. Durell! Don’t provoke him,” cried +Anna. “Do think of the consequences!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“’Tis such angel-tempers as yours, my dear, +forgiving rough men’s brutality, as you forgave +me this morning, that encourage us to be brutal +again. Don’t let me off so easily next time, if +you wish me well.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>And he turned to Studley, as if about to apologize +for the offensiveness of his language, when +Studley observed, trying to conceal his passion,</p> + +<p class='c001'>“It is very kind of you, Madam, to bid him +think of the consequences. He will not have +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.101'>101</span>long to wait for the consequences, if he blazes +abroad his disaffection in this manner.—Disaffection! +yes.—Do you suppose, Sir, that your exertions +in favour of a certain anti-ministerial candidate +at a late election passed unnoticed? We +don’t want to be told that you could not vote; +but there is little use in denying that you declared +your opinion,—daily, hourly, wherever you went,—your +opinion as to which principles ought to be +supported. Join this with your avowed contempt +of the establishment in which you serve, and +what is the inference,—the clear inference? It +is in vain, Sir, to deny the part you took in the +election I refer to.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Deny it! I glory in it!” thundered Durell, +who had started up in the midst of this attack +upon him.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Indeed!” muttered Studley, quite perplexed.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Indeed! yes, indeed! What should a man +glory in but in the use of that which God gave, +and which men dare to meddle with only because +they know too little of its force to dread it. +When men once talked of shutting up the four +winds in a cave, it was not from dread of their +force, but because it was mortifying not to know, +when those winds were abroad, whence they came +and whither they went; and so when our masters +would put a padlock upon our opinions, it is not +because they guess the danger of shutting in +what is for ever expanding, but because they +covet the power of letting them fly this way and +that, to suit their own little purposes, and puff +away their own petty enemies. But this flying +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.102'>102</span>in the face of God Almighty is such child’s play, +as well as something worse, that perhaps He may +forgive in the infant what He would sorely visit +upon the answerable man.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What is all this?” asked Le Brocq, while +the countenances of those present corroborated the +question.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Why, just this,” replied Durell, putting a restraint +upon himself, and stopping his rapid walk +through the apartment. “The object of taxation +is to support government. The object of government +is to afford liberty and security to every +man that lives under it. Yet those by whom the +taxation of the people is managed are to be +abridged of their liberty, if they mean to keep +their security. In the most important point of +all others,—in the choice of those who are to +govern, they are to have no liberty of action, and +their very thoughts and speech are to be prescribed. +We excisemen are to do nothing towards +providing that the oppressed shall be set +free, and the industrious rewarded, and the ignorant +enlightened, and an empire blessed:—we +are to do nothing in the only way in which we +could do much. Not only must we surrender +our political rights while receiving our bread; +but we must not stimulate others to do what we +must leave undone. Even this is not enough: +we must hush to sleep the will that has been +wakened within us, and seem to believe that +which we hate as falsehood, or hang on the foul +breath of a spy, like that fellow, for our bread +and our good name.—But, so be it! We are +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.103'>103</span>spies; and it is fitting that we should be at the +mercy of a spy.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But why?” interposed Anna. And Jack +seconded the question with, “Why are you a spy, +I wonder?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You may well ask, boy. However, they shall +never bind my thoughts, and chain my tongue,—come +of it what may. They heard no complaint +from me, from first to last, about the +surrender of my right to vote; but if they think +to prevent me from avowing who is the people’s +friend and who the people’s enemy,—if they suppose +I will submit to have it thought that I am +with them when my heart is against them, I will +fling back in their faces the mask they would put +upon mine; and go with an unveiled front where +God’s works are for ever drawing out their long +tale of truth to shame man’s falsehoods.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Take me with you then, papa. Do take me +with you,” cried Jack.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“The little master had better make sure of +what sort of place he would have to go to,” observed +Studley. “He might not altogether like +a jail.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“A jail!” cried every body.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I mean no more than this,—that the penalty +for certain excise offences is 500<i>l.</i>; and all people +are not always ready to pay 500<i>l.</i>”</p> + +<p class='c001'>And Studley went out, now the confirmed +enemy of the whole party he left behind.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I am not going to justify that man’s spying +and threats,” observed Le Brocq: “but I really +do not see why the government should not make +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.104'>104</span>a point of its own servants being of its own +political opinions; and, as for their not voting +at elections, it is a favour done to the people, I +conclude, from the consideration that so large a +body of persons, supposed to be biassed by their +dependence on the government, would often turn +the scale in a close contest.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And where can there be a stronger proof of +the badness of the system? Is there no better +way of the people paying for government than +by their supporting a host of tax-gatherers, who +are first compelled to harass their supporters by +daily ill offices, and then become the slaves of +rulers in proportion as they become hated by the +ruled? Let the people of England come forward +like men and Christians, asking to have their +state-subscription levied in the form of a periodical +contribution, rather than wrenched and +filched from them after the manner of a theft,—so +that the gang of wrenchers and filchers, of +whom I am one, may support themselves by a +more honest labour, and once more become men +in their social rights and their liberty of speech.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Do you mean to remain in your office till +that day?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“If they will let me exercise ordinary freedom +of opinion. Yes: while the system exists, it is +the duty of those who feel its evils to soften their +operation as much as possible. If I resigned to-night, +the next best-drilled spy would take my +place, and in some lower rank there would be +room made for some mischief-loving, shabby-souled +tyrant;—for who but such would accept +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.105'>105</span>the most hateful of offices with the meanest of +salaries? Frightful as is the sum which Englishmen +pay for their standing spy-army, the forces +are so numerous that the pay of each (considered +in connexion with the odium of the office) is not +enough to command the services of honest men. +But if you had seen the half of what has come +before my eyes, you would value the blessing of +a tender heart, here and there, among such a +tribe as hold the tyranny of the excise in their +power; and you would entreat such an one to +keep in his place for love of the widow and the +fatherless, and the poor, and such as have none +to help them.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>When Durell was persuaded to sit down again, +and fill his glass, and Aaron had been summoned +by his sister to come and listen, there were no +bounds to the interest with which the surveyor’s +tales of sorrow and crime were listened to. He +set out with declaring that there was scarcely a +possibility of a trader’s escaping persecution, loss, +or even ruin, if the excise officer who was over +him happened to be his enemy. He unfolded +such scenes of strife, fraud, hardship, and bitter +woe, as terrified the tender-spirited women, and +made even Aaron look grave at the thought of +committing himself to be acted upon by such a +system. He trembled at tales of masters being +betrayed by faithless servants; of false oaths +taken by men who appeared weekly at church in +a frame of decent piety; of fathers selling their +children’s beds from under them to pay arbitrary +penalties innocently incurred; of a widowed +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.106'>106</span>mother following her only son to prison, eagerly +explaining to all who beheld his shame, that it +was not for any “real fault,” but for a factitious +offence,—a boast alas! never repeated; for it +is they who are imprisoned for factitious crimes +who come out broken-hearted and reckless, apt +to become, first smugglers, and then felons, like +the youth whose tale Durell was telling. The +more he told, the more he had to tell,—the more +impassioned became his speech, and the more +eager his recourse to his glass. Brennan had +not yet moved from his attitude of fixed attention, +and even Jack was still frowning and gazing +in his father’s face, when Le Brocq perceived that +his guest was no longer in a state to be listened +to as one who knew what he was about. Perhaps +he was overcome as much by intense feeling as +by what he had taken; but he slid from his tone +of solemn and reasonable denunciation to senseless +invective, to ridicule, to mirth, to nonsense, +till his friends could bear the humbling scene no +longer. Anna hastened, in an agony of fear and +shame, to tell Mrs. Durell that Aaron and his +father were bringing her husband home. It was +the only thing that could be done with him; for +he had taken some imaginary offence, and would +not remain in their house for a moment longer, +and was too riotous to be kept on any other part +of the premises.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I know what you are come for,” said Mrs. +Durell mournfully to Anna. “It is not the first +time by many, since he was made an officer. If he +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.107'>107</span>should be cut off in his drink, I shall always say +his office was answerable for it.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Anna could not leave the unhappy wife when +Durell was lying in the next room, breathing hard, +and angrily muttering in his drunken sleep.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You must not be too hard upon him to-morrow,” +said she, thinking that she saw signs of +wrath in the burning tears which could not be +repressed. “You have reason to know the tenderness +of his heart; and it is my belief that it +is that tenderness that betrays him.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“To be sure it is. Every day of his life he +crosses somebody that he wishes well to, and feels +that he can do nothing for others that he sees +oppressed, and that as often as he shows mercy, +he is betraying his trust. Hard upon him! +When he begins to make light of God’s providence, +and to slight the sorrows that he sees, I +will be hard upon my husband.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You deserve to be the wife and the comforter +of such a man.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Thank you for saying so while he is lying +there!” exclaimed the wife, looking up through +her tears. “You and I know that he is more fit +to hold some friendly rule over the people than +to dog them as an enemy. Some would laugh +at such a thought, and say he cannot rule himself. +But, depend upon it, if it were not for the +misrule that is every day before his eyes, he +would govern himself like the most moderate of +them all; and then he would never be so wretched +in his shame as he will be to-morrow.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_3.108'>108</span>“Do you think Mr. Durell will be better to-morrow, +so as to take me where he promised?” +asked Brennan, who had silently followed into +the room, and was now watching the rain-drops +chasing one another down the window-panes.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mrs. Durell shook her head, and the boy’s +heart sank at the sight. He was told that he +might sleep here to-night, to take the chance. It +was not very likely that Stephen would come +back to-night, having been abroad since he +slipped out by himself in the morning. Anna +did not now ask any question about Stephen, +fearing that it might seem like reminding Mrs. +Durell of her husband’s roughness on that subject +when she was last within his doors.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Will you please to come here, ma’am?” +said Brennan, beckoning her to the window.</p> + +<p class='c001'>She saw Studley standing under a gateway, as +if for shelter, but laughing, and pointing very +significantly at Durell’s house. Brennan whispered +that Studley had met master and Mr. Aaron +when they were trying to make Mr. Durell walk +straight; and that he had followed them all the +rest of the way, talking about fair traders’ luck +in choosing their time for making surveyors +drunk.</p> + +<div> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_3.109'>109</span> + <h3 id='ch3.7' class='c016'><span class='sc'>Chapter VII.</span><br> <br>HARDER LESSONS IN LOYALTY.</h3> +</div> + +<p class='c017'>While Durell, as much ashamed of himself the +next morning, as his wife had foretold, made an +exertion to perform his promise to Brennan, notwithstanding +a desperate head-ache, Anna was +making experiments with the new tea her brother +had helped her to manufacture. It was so good +as to make her wonder why all but the wealthier +classes in England did not mix a larger or smaller +proportion of those leaves with the genuine tea. +She resolved to try a variety of herbs for the +same purpose; and hoped that when she had +satisfied herself that she had obtained the best +article in her power, she might make a profitable +little business of her manufacture. Perhaps the +reason why she did not hear of others doing so +was that few had the advantage of a kiln in +which to dry the material quickly, equally, and +in large quantities. Meantime, there seemed to +be customers ready before she asked for them. +A woman, whom somebody pronounced to be +Mrs. Studley, came to inquire, and carried away a +pound, which she insisted upon paying for before +she tasted it. The example once set, several of +the people on the premises, or their wives, made +similar purchases in the course of the next few +days.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Aaron meanwhile recovered from the temporary +alarm about his new business connection +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.110'>110</span>into which Durell’s disclosures had thrown him. +He trusted that the perils of glass-makers had +been exaggerated in the heated fancy of the surveyor; +and would not believe Anna when she +averred that Durell was perfectly sober when he +told of the extent to which glass-masters are dependent +on their servants. He had made a clear +distinction between the present and the former +times of the manufacture; showing how the present +are an improvement upon the former, though +restrictions and hardships enough remain to +account for the manufacture being stationary +while all circumstances but the interference of +the excise are favourable to its unlimited extension. +Durell had told a story of a respectable +glass-manufacturer who had suffered cruelly, +some years ago, from having accidentally affronted +one of his men. The man put material +into several of his master’s furnaces, and then +went and laid an information against the proprietor +for charging his furnaces without notice. +The consequence was, that George the Third, by +the Grace of King, &c., greeted poor Mr. Robinson, +and “commanded and strictly enjoined” +him (all excuses apart) to appear before the Barons +of the King’s Exchequer, at Westminster, +to answer his Majesty concerning certain articles +then and there, on the king’s behalf, to be objected +against Mr. Robinson. These articles of accusation +were thirty-one! No wonder the king +wished to know what Mr. Robinson had to say. +There was, besides charging the furnaces without +notice, a long list of other offences, (all, however, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.111'>111</span>committed by the workman without his master’s +knowledge,)—putting in metal after <a id='corr3.112.2'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='guage'>gauge</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_3.112.2'><ins class='correction'>gauge</ins></a></span>, unstopping +a pot without notice, taking down the +stopper without notice, filling five pots each +day for fifty days without notice, omission +of entering five hundred makings, and so on. +Who can wonder that the father of his subjects +was grieved at such a want of filial confidence? +The king, however, had less reason to be grieved +than Mr. Robinson; for the penalties on the +thirty-one offences amounted to 138,700<i>l.</i> His +Majesty, through his Barons, had compassion; +or rather, perhaps, it might be evident to them +that to throw a man into jail for the rest of his +days, after stripping him of all that he had, for +such a crime as his servant beginning to make +glass without his knowledge, might be going too +far for even excise-ridden England. They made +him answerable for one only of the accusations, +and let him off for 50<i>l.</i>—liable, however, to a +repetition of the same misfortune, unless he chose +to stand day and night beside his furnaces, to +see that none of his people violated the law touching +glass. Matters have mended since that day. +Absurdity and hardship do not now reach such +an extreme: but the principle remains. The +tyranny of interference still subsists. The morality +of glass-making is still an arbitrary morality,—complicated +and annoying in its practice, and +mercilessly punished in its infraction. There was +still enough of peril and disgust to make Anna +wish that her brother would think again before +he entered upon glass-making. She prevailed no +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.112'>112</span>further than to induce him to bespeak a short +trial of the business before committing himself +irrevocably as a partner. She heard so much +more of the ingenuity and taste of the manufacturer +he was about to join, than of his experience +in business, that she was in perpetual fear that +the firm would not long be able to escape the +clutches of some of the revenue laws, which +seemed to be lying in ambush everywhere to entrap +the unwary. Her father, too, was for ever +prophesying that the wilful youth would fall into +some scrape, and get into jail, sooner or later.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mrs. Durell observed her husband to be particularly +gloomy one evening, when he desired +to have his supper earlier than usual. He sat +looking at the wall, as he always did when his +mind was full of something painful. He seemed +relieved when Stephen left off singing in the next +room, though he would not have taken such a +liberty with a dependent guest as to interfere with +his singing when he was in the mood. When the +spirit-bottle was put down near him, he pushed +it away. This was good as far as it went. He +was not going to drink away his cares, whatever +they might be.——A knock at the door.—</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Let him in. It is the constable,” said +Durell.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, then, I know. You are going to watch,” +said Mrs. Durell, being aware that entering premises +by night could be done only in the presence +of a constable. “I am afraid, love, you +are going to distress somebody that you wish no +ill to.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_3.113'>113</span>“I wish ill to nobody but that cursed race of +informers that is as much cherished in this country +as if we had a Nero over us.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Only about the taxes, love, surely.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Only about the taxes! Well, what would +you have, when almost everything that is bought +and sold is taxed?—Sit down, Simpson. Have +you supped? We may be detained some time.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The wife probably still showed anxiety; for +he said, while buttoning up his coat,</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You have no acquaintance among the soap-boilers, +my dear, that I know of.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Oh, is it soap-boiling that you are going to +watch?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>He nodded, kissed her, bade her not sit up for +him, and left her relieved.</p> + +<p class='c001'>It was true that the first errand was to a soap-boiler’s,—a +man who kept a chandler’s shop, +and professed to do nothing else, but who had +long continued to carry on an illicit trade in +soap. His candles bore the blame of the scent +with which his near neighbours were sometimes +incommoded; and his being possessed of two +handy daughters saved the necessity of his having +servants who might betray him, protected by +that odious clause of the Act which provides that +participators in the offence shall be rewarded instead +of punished, if they will inform against +their masters or companions. This man found +that he could make, very cheap, a particularly +good soap, as long as he could evade the excise; +and he had, of course, no lack of customers. In +his shop, he sold none but dear, duty-paid soap; +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.114'>114</span>but nobody knew but himself how many packages +went into the country from the back of his premises. +The temptation was enough to overpower +any man who had his opportunities. His privacy +afforded him the means of trying experiments to +improve the article,—too expensive a practice +for makers who cannot return the material to the +coppers, in case of failure, without the sacrifice +of the whole duty upon the portion so returned. +Relieved from the duty, he could use better and +more expensive materials than the regular manufacturer +can employ. Instead of barilla, or the +still inferior article, kelp, he could use common +salt, which requires much less labour in its application +to use, and, from its smaller bulk, might +be smuggled into his premises and kept there with +greater safety. Besides this, he liked to be able +to take his own time about the production of the +article, and to use such vessels as might be best +fitted for his purposes, instead of having an exciseman +standing over him to see that his soap +was ready by a certain time, whether it was properly +made or not; and that his utensils were of +the shape and size required by law; whether or +not the having them of that shape and size caused +waste of the material. The mere circumstance +of being able to discharge the alkaline <a id='corr3.115.27'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='ley'>lye</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_3.115.27'><ins class='correction'>lye</ins></a></span> from +the copper by a cock inserted near the bottom, +instead of by pump and hand, as ordered by law, +was of no little consequence, regarding as it did +an operation which was perpetually occurring. +This chandler had, with an easy conscience, made +a pretty little competence by his illicit manufacture; +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.115'>115</span>but his day of prosperity was over. Some +keen nose or eyes had made the discovery, and +the consequence was that the constable visited his +premises by midnight.</p> + +<p class='c001'>How the girls started at the first gentle tap at +the door! How relieved were they when, having +called from the window, they were told it was only a +neighbour wanting to light his lamp! How dismayed +again, when four men rushed in, the moment +the door was opened, and made their way +direct to the place where the sinner was pouring +off his curdling soap into the troughs! There +was nothing to be said,—no license to produce,—no +tokens of having paid duty. The whole apparatus +and product must be seized, and the man +taken into custody, and the daughters left to comfort +themselves, and explain the matter to the +world in the best way they could. They dreaded +the loss of money far more than the loss of character, +which could hardly be great in a country +where the population professes (judging by the +duty) to use no more than 6½lbs. a head per annum; +while it is well known that half a pound a +week each is the lowest quantity actually consumed. +In a country where three-quarters of the +soap used is not duty-paid, there can be no very +deep or extensive horror of the sin of illicit manufacture. +It is far more likely that the ignorant +poor should be thankful to him who, in their inability +to make soap at home, enabled them to +buy for 1½<i>d.</i> what the law would prevent their +having for less than 6<i>d.</i> Even some rich might +be found who would pronounce it a monstrous +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.116'>116</span>thing that, while the cost of making soap is only +12<i>s.</i> per cwt., the duty should be 28<i>s.</i>, and the +expense of excise interference 16<i>s.</i> more; but +the rich are not concerned like the poor in this +matter. Not only is cleanliness,—and so far +health,—less difficult, less a matter of question +to them, but they pay a much smaller proportion +of the duty than the poor. The duty amounts to +two-thirds of the price of the soap which the poor +man buys, while it forms only an inconsiderable +portion of the cost of the refined and scented +soaps of the luxurious. While these things are +so, who can wonder at the reliance of the illicit +trader on the support and good will of society, +and his expectation of being blamed for nothing +worse than imprudence in carrying on his work +in a place liable to detection?</p> + +<p class='c001'>When the daughters had watched their father +down the street, after helping to cleanse him from +the tokens of his late toil, and had gone crying up +to bed, knowing that a guard was left on their +premises, Durell and the constable proceeded on +another errand, much more painful.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Durell had received a hint from his superiors +that all was not right on the premises of the +glass-bottle maker, with whom Aaron was becoming +connected. It was his belief that Studley +had been the informer, both from the date of +the occurrence, and from Studley’s knowledge of +the concern. Whether it was his design to implicate +Aaron, could not be known yet; but, if +he really believed Le Brocq to be a rich, close, +old fellow, it seemed very probable that he might +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.117'>117</span>adopt this means of squeezing a little money out +of him; or, possibly, he might nourish revenge +against more than one of the family because Le +Brocq had refused to be his security for the office +for which he was still waiting in uncertainty. +However these things might be, Studley was with +the men who stealthily let themselves in at a side +door, during the twilight, and hid themselves behind +some planks which happened to be set on +end against the wall. He was with them when +they skulked about, after the workmen were gone, +peeping into the closets where the stock was +placed, and whispering as often as they met with +anything which could possibly be construed into +a token of fraud. He was the one who called +them hastily back to their hiding-place when steps +were at length heard approaching. He watched +and followed the proprietor when he hastily +passed through, with a flaring candle in his hand, +as if about to light himself to some dark place. +It was Studley who beckoned the men to pursue, +and burst into the portion of the premises which +had been so contrived as hitherto to elude the notice +of the excise. There they found the proprietors, +Aaron, and a trusty servant of the establishment, +all at work about a small furnace.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Studley stood afar off, and was left to his own +reflections, when the door was shut. Durell and +Simpson presently afterwards arrived.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Has this apartment been duly entered?” inquired +Durell of the offenders. Nobody answered.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Has this furnace paid duty?”—No answer.</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_3.118'>118</span>At length, the elder partner began to explain.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“The fact is, we think we have devised an +improvement in our manufacture; and nobody +knows better than you, Mr. Durell, that it is impossible +to keep any secret to ourselves in our +business, while the same excisemen who watch +us, see half a dozen other establishments of +the same kind in a day. There is really no +possibility of improvement but in doing what +is constantly done,—working a little in private +before we make known our discoveries to the +excise.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“The expense, too, of wasting material, which +must pay duty whether we obtain the desired +product or not, is an insurmountable obstacle to +improvement,” observed the other partner. “You +will not deal harshly with us, sir. If you do, we +shall suffer for the patriotic attempt to advance +our manufacture.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I am certain,” declared the first, “that government +will gain more by allowing us to complete +our experiment, than by fining us to our +last shilling.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>With all this Durell had nothing to do. His +office was plain. His accustomed duty lay before +him,—seizure of the goods and custody of +the offenders. He was grieved that his friend +Aaron could not escape, though he was not one +of the partners. Studley was again at hand to +insist that Aaron was liable to fine or imprisonment +for being found working on an exciseable +product in unentered premises. The informer +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3.119'>119</span>(for so he was) was very unwilling that Aaron +should be permitted to return to his home for the +night. He hoped to have seen him marched +through the streets to some place of confinement. +But Aaron’s peril was not such as could induce +him to abscond; and he was dropped at his +father’s door, after having given his promise to +appear when summoned before the court.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Studley need not have grudged him his home. +There was little comfort in it. Before he had +well finished his tale, the next morning, and before +his father had well begun the series of reproaches +which must be expected to follow, a +messenger from the Court appeared, summoning, +not only Aaron, but Le Brocq, to answer for +drawing his kiln without notice, and Anna for an +illicit adulteration of tea.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Le Brocq replied only by flinging the summonses +under the grate, and by a deep curse +upon Durell. Anna, who had sunk into a chair, +exclaimed,</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, father, why is he to blame? How has +he wronged us?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Never tell me that this is not all his doing;—or, +at any rate, that be might not have prevented +it all, if he had pleased. What is his +office for,—what is his power worth,—if his best +friends and his countrymen,—strangers that he +ought to protect,—are to be persecuted in this +manner?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I will answer for it, he is more sorry for us +than we are for ourselves: but he must do his +duty, father.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_3.120'>120</span>“I should like to know what way of doing +one’s duty would please my father,” observed +Aaron. “Whatever may happen is sure to be +somebody’s fault.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Whose fault was it, pray, that my kiln was +drawn without notice?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, father! Aaron! all this cannot be helped +now. Do not let us quarrel now. We must +think what must be done.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“We must go to prison,—that is clear,—unless +my father can pay the fines,” said Aaron.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“If anybody goes to prison, it must be you, +Aaron. My first duty is to your mother, and +my next to your sister, who has never been a +disobedient child to me.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Pray, father, don’t,” cried Anna. “Perhaps +we may none of us have to go to prison.” Her +voice faltered at the last dreadful word.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“It is my belief that I can never pay the fines,” +replied Le Brocq: “and if they throw me into +jail, I shall find some means of telling the king +that they give him bad advice who encourage +him to use such means as his of getting his taxes. +I would willingly have paid him three times as +much as he has yet got from me for leave to +follow my business in peace. There is that fellow +Durell skulking about before the window +now!—to see how we take our troubles, I suppose.—Anna, +come back! I won’t have you +speak to him. I forbid everybody belonging to +me to speak to him.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Your own countryman, father!”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_3.121'>121</span>“What does it matter to me whether he was +born in Jersey, or any where else? He is an +exciseman, and that is enough. How in the +world to tell your mother of all this!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Perhaps we shall not be hardly used, when +they find that we are strangers, coming from +a place where nothing is known of the excise,” +said Anna, trying to command her voice. “Perhaps +the king will be merciful when he hears all +we have to say; and I still think Mr. Durell is +our friend. Perhaps we may not all have to go +to prison together; and, at any rate, I suppose +we shall soon know the worst.”</p> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c004'> + <div>END OF THE FIRST PART.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='pbb'> + <hr class='pb c000'> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c004'> + <div><a id='work4'></a><span class='large'>ILLUSTRATIONS</span></div> + <div class='c000'><span class='small'>OF</span></div> + <div class='c000'><em class='gesperrt'><span class='xlarge'>TAXATION.</span></em></div> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class='c018'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c006'> + <div>No. IV.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c007'>THE <br> <br>JERSEYMEN PARTING.</h2> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c006'> + <div><span class="blackletter">A Tale.</span></div> + <div class='c000'><span class='small'>BY</span></div> + <div class='c000'><span class='large'>HARRIET MARTINEAU.</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class='c005'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c009'> + <div>LONDON:</div> + <div>CHARLES FOX, 67, PATERNOSTER-ROW.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class='c008'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c011'> + <div>1834.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c004'> + <div>LONDON:</div> + <div><span class='sc'>Printed by William Clowes</span>,</div> + <div><span class='small'>Duke-street, Lambeth.</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c004'> + <div>THE</div> + <div class='c000'>JERSEYMEN PARTING.</div> + <div class='c000'><span class="blackletter">A Tale.</span></div> + <div class='c000'>BY</div> + <div class='c000'><span class='large'>HARRIET MARTINEAU.</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class='c020'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c009'> + <div>LONDON:</div> + <div>CHARLES FOX, 67, PATERNOSTER-ROW.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class='c008'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c011'> + <div>1834.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<h3 class='c012'>CONTENTS.</h3> + +<table class='table4'> +<colgroup> +<col class='colwidth7'> +<col class='colwidth76'> +<col class='colwidth15'> +</colgroup> + <tr> + <td class='c013'> </td> + <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>Chap.</span></td> + <td class='c015'><span class='sc'>Page</span></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c013'>1.</td> + <td class='c014'>A Busy Man at Leisure</td> + <td class='c015'><a href='#ch4.1'>1</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c013'>2.</td> + <td class='c014'>Knitting and Unravelling</td> + <td class='c015'><a href='#ch4.2'>20</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c013'>3.</td> + <td class='c014'>A Mate for Mother Hubbard</td> + <td class='c015'><a href='#ch4.3'>44</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c013'>4.</td> + <td class='c014'>Friend or Foe?</td> + <td class='c015'><a href='#ch4.4'>51</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c013'>5.</td> + <td class='c014'>The Darkening Hour</td> + <td class='c015'><a href='#ch4.5'>79</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c013'>6.</td> + <td class='c014'>The Land of Signals</td> + <td class='c015'><a href='#ch4.6'>96</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c013'>7.</td> + <td class='c014'>Welcome to Supper</td> + <td class='c015'><a href='#ch4.7'>117</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c013'>8.</td> + <td class='c014'>A Wanderer still</td> + <td class='c015'><a href='#ch4.8'>133</a></td> + </tr> +</table> + +<p class='c025'>For some of the materials of this and the +preceding No., I am indebted to Mr. Inglis’s +very interesting volumes on the Channel Islands.</p> + +<p class='c026'>The next No. will conclude my work.</p> +<div class='c027'>H. M.</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c004'> + <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_4.1'>1</span><span class='large'>THE JERSEYMEN PARTING.</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<h3 id='ch4.1' class='c016'><span class='sc'>Chapter I.</span> <br> <br>A BUSY MAN AT LEISURE.</h3> + +<p class='c017'>There are but too many people in London who +look upon a prison very much as they look upon +any other building: but of such people few are +from Jersey, or from any place where, as in Jersey, +the inhabitants are prosperous, and the +temptations to crime are therefore few. The +family of Le Brocq had not been accustomed to +see a sentence of death lightly received as implying +nothing worse than a gratuitous removal to +a country where, whatever other hardships there +may be, there is no difficulty in procuring food +and spirits. They had not been accustomed to +the language of penal justice in England, where +“transportation” may mean nothing more than +removal to Woolwich, to sleep in a stationary +vessel at night, and rest upon a broom in the +dock-yard during the day, in the intervals of +being watched. They had not been accustomed +to see convicts adjusting their leg chain in the +presence of strangers, as if it had been a boot or +a gaiter; nor to hear the merriment of the disgraced; +nor to witness calculations as to the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.2'>2</span>economy of living in a prison for a while. To +have seen an offender after conviction was to them +a rare circumstance; and when such a chance +had befallen, there had been a conflict of feeling +between their extreme curiosity to see any one in +circumstances so peculiar and interesting, and +their fear of insulting the fallen.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Durell, though a Jerseyman, had lost some of +this feeling through the familiarity with jails which +was induced by his office. The idea of depriving +a man of his natural liberty, of using force upon +him in any way, was as repugnant to him as it +will be to everybody a few ages hence; but, the +outrage being an actual fact, the attendant circumstances +had lost some of their power. If it +had not been so, he would not have pronounced +that Aaron might go home for the night of his +arrest, as his peril was not such as could induce +him to abscond. He was wrong. Aaron’s peril +for working on unentered premises was of being +taken before two magistrates, and sentenced to +three months’ hard labour in prison. Whether +three months, or three years, or three hours of +hard labour, it would have been much the same +to Aaron, if within the walls of a prison. Before +daylight he was on the cold, foggy Thames, +hastening he knew not well whither, and cared +little, so long as he was out of reach of the arm +of the law.</p> + +<p class='c001'>His father did not abscond, because he had a +wife and daughter; but never was any man more +perplexed how to choose between two dreadful +evils than Le Brocq. Equal to a Jerseyman’s +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.3'>3</span>horror of a prison is his repugnance to pay +money. Having at home but little money and +an abundance of all that he really wants, he will +make any shifts with his materials rather than buy. +He will first impoverish his live stock rather than +go to market to purchase proper food for them; +and then, his live stock failing, he will impoverish +his land rather than pay for manure. Thus, Le +Brocq’s grand inducement to come to England +having been the supposed exemption from paying +taxes in money, he could not endure the idea of +laying down a heavy sum as a fine, while any +alternative remained. He persuaded himself, and +declared to the court, that he could not raise the +money; and went to prison. This was against +Durell’s judgment, and in the firm persuasion +that Aaron would appear in a day or two, to conduct +the business and take care of the women. +It seemed to him so utterly ridiculous to consider +Aaron’s accident of working on unentered premises +as a punishable offence, that there could +be no danger of the young man’s being inquired +after when he had been found “not at home” +for twenty-four hours.</p> + +<p class='c001'>He also was wrong. Anna was alone when +she drew near the prison to visit her father, after +a few days’ confinement. She had never been +out on so painful an errand. She walked past, +two or three times, in hopes that the disagreeable-looking +people about the gate would have gone +away and left a clear path for her: but they stood +a long while, leaning against the wall with folded +arms, some chatting and laughing, and others +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.4'>4</span>abusing the powers within for keeping them +waiting. Before they had disappeared, more +came; and Anna saw that the time during which +she might obtain admittance would pass away +if she waited to go in alone. Nobody seemed to +mind her, after all, and the turnkey was civil +enough; so civil, that she found courage, after a +moment’s struggle, to do what she considered +justice to her father, and assure the turnkey, as he +showed her the way, that it was for no crime that +her father was there, but only for a mistake about +a tax. The man seemed to think this no business +of his; and indeed there was nothing in his +manner to any of his charge to indicate that such +a distinction signified at all.</p> + +<p class='c001'>It was a great disappointment to Anna to find +that she could not see her father alone. Two +persons were in the same apartment with him,—a +dingy, close room, where it must be extremely +irksome for three people to pass the day +without employment. Anna saw at a glance +how irksome it really was. Nothing but the +extreme of ennui could have placed her father +in the position in which she found him,—trying +to play at cards with his companions. Such +cards! such companions! and he, ignorant as +he was known by Anna to be of modern card-playing! +He had borne his part in a single +ancient game of cards (though he preferred +dominoes) on the gay nights of Christmas or +New Year in his Jersey home, when the punch-bowl +was steaming and cakes were heaped on +the hospitable board round which he had gathered +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.5'>5</span>his family and neighbours; but his game and +his card-playing notions were little suited to his +present place and companionship. It was a dismal +amusement here, in this cheerless room, with +sordid accompaniments of every kind, and two +of the players impatient at the incompetency of +the third. Their voices were none of the most +harmonious when first heard on the opening of +the door; and when it appeared that Anna came +to interrupt, Le Brocq’s partner threw down his +cards in a pet. Le Brocq cast away his, exclaiming—</p> + +<p class='c001'>“My dear, what are you here for?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Only to see you, father. But I am in the +way, I’m afraid,”—looking at the peevish man +opposite.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Never mind him,” replied her father. “We +have time enough and too much for that sort of +thing. Why did not you send Aaron, instead of +coming yourself into such a place? You know +I do not like——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I knew you would be vexed with me for +coming; but my mother was so unhappy about +nobody seeing you. When Aaron comes home——But, +father, we have not seen him yet.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Not yet! Do you mean that he has never +come back at all?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Never.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Nor written? What can the lad mean? +Whenever he does come back, he shall learn——I +will teach him what he may expect by playing +such pranks.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>He saw by Anna’s downcast eyes that she +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.6'>6</span>thought such threats, if they could be overheard, +were not the most likely means of bringing her +brother back again. They put her too much in +mind of the scolding mother’s address to her offending +child, which she had overheard in the +street,—“Come here, you little wretch, and let +me flay you alive.” Le Brocq added more gently,</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You are not afraid of any harm having happened? +Have you asked anybody?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Mr. Durell says——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Durell! That you should go and disgrace +our family before that man, of all people! What +has Durell to do with us, beyond getting us into +mischief?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“My mother asked him, because we thought +he knew most about what people do when they +get into trouble with the Excise.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Not he. He thought I should pay the fine +rather than come here. That shows how much +he knows. But what does he say?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“He does not think Aaron will come back,” +said Anna, with a faltering voice.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“He has enticed him away somewhere, then. +What should make the lad stay away?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“When they run away, they get disgusted +with the law, Mr. Durell says, and set themselves +against it. Too many, he says, turn to secret +distilling, or to braving the law in some other +way. And that is what we fear for Aaron.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Nonsense: he is safe enough with Malet by +this time, I have no doubt. He has been ropemaking +there this fortnight, depend upon it.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“He was not there four days ago, as we learn +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.7'>7</span>by a letter from Louise this morning. We were +so glad to see the letter! But there is nothing +about Aaron, except their supposing that he must +be managing the business while——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I don’t think I need read the letter,” observed +Le Brocq, pushing it away from him. +He was afraid of the pain of seeing what his +daughter might say about his being in prison. +“Your mother is happy for to-day, I suppose, +now she has heard from Louise?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Not very,” answered Anna, with a tear or +two. “Father, she is always crying out for +Louise to come. She seems as if she thought +everything would be right if Louise was here. +But I am sure I dare not think of it. It is +something to think that one of us is safe; and +why should Louise be more safe than anybody +else, if she came? There are other snares yet, +Mr. Durell says; and where no stranger can do +anything hardly without falling into a snare, is +not it much better that Louise should stay away? +Is not it, father?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“To be sure. It was mistake enough for us +to come.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Then, you will let us go away again? May +I tell Louise so?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, yes. Tell her that, as soon as you hear +of my being buried, you shall see if you can raise +money enough to get back to Jersey; and that I +charge her——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Buried! father.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Yes. I am very ill, and it is my belief that +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.8'>8</span>I shall die here. So your mother is very unhappy?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Yes: but you don’t mean that you are really +going to die? I am sure something might +be done to persuade the king to take some of +your stone-ware, if you have not the money. I +am sure they would let you out in that way. And +my mother is so miserable! Every footstep that +I am apt to take for Aaron’s, she thinks must +somehow be Louise; and then she thinks of how +proud it would make her to see Louise’s husband +setting all right, and——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Poor child! She taunts you with having +no lover here! No wonder you look for Aaron +back! She finds fault with you again for sending +away poor François, who would indeed have +been a great help to us now. But no wonder +you look for Aaron back!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“It was such a disappointment last night, +father! There was a soft tap at the door, just +before we went to bed; and we never doubted its +being Aaron. I told him through the key-hole +that I would open the door in a minute; and +when I did, it was Mr. Studley. And now he +will have it, from what I said, that Aaron is with +us sometimes; and he would stay——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Your mother would not let him in, to be +sure? She would not let the rascal in?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“She could not lawfully prevent his coming +in; but she would not allow him to stay there. I +never saw such a spirit in her before. But we +heard him outside for three hours after. If I +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.9'>9</span>could have persuaded my mother to go into the +back room, so that he could not have heard her +cry, I should not have minded it so much.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What! has the fellow overheard our lamentation? +I thought your mother had——That +should never have happened if I had been at +home.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Then I wish you would come home, father. +Never mind the loss. Never mind the ruin, if it +must be ruin.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Le Brocq answered doggedly, as he had always +done before, that he had not the money. If any +body had told him, when he took the business, +that, independently of his scrape with the Excise +Court, he should now be without money, he +would not have believed it, after all that had been +held out to him about the quantity of money he +should make. It was not from spending. He +had pinched and toiled more than he had ever +done in Jersey; and all to plunge himself deeper. +If he had been out of business, dressing his wife +in velvet, and feasting on foreign fruits and +claret, he would have paid less to the state than +he had done as an employer of workmen, denying +himself and his family, meantime, anything beyond +the commonest comforts of life. It was the +paying several times over that was enough to ruin +any man. The workmen could not pay the taxes +upon everything that they ate, and drank, and +wore. Their wages were raised in proportion; +so that their masters paid. No man should judge +of his fortune by his returns till he knew what he +had to pay in wages. O, yes; he charged these +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.10'>10</span>wages in the price of his bottles, so that the bottle +consumers paid in their turn: but he, as a consumer +of other things, paid in his turn, in like +manner; till, among so many outgoings, he had +no money left. And all for what? To contribute +his share towards the expenses of government, +which he might have paid, if he had been +properly asked, at half the cost, and a hundredth +part of the pain and trouble!</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But you did not like that way of paying +when you were in Jersey, father.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Because I was told there was a better, and +was fool enough to believe it. It is the most +shameful hoax, the making me pay as I have +paid since I came here! You need not look so +frightened, as if I was talking treason,” he continued, +seeing that Anna was uneasy at his being +overheard complaining of being hoaxed in state +matters. “I am saying no harm of the king; +for he loses more than I. If I am hoaxed, he +is double-hoaxed, as I could easily prove.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Could you? Then perhaps,” said Anna, +timidly, “perhaps, if you told him so——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ay; I could set the case plainly enough +before him, if I could see him; but there’s the +difficulty.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I will ask Mr. Durell, and he will ask the +Board, I dare say,” exclaimed Anna. “We +could say that you would not detain his majesty +very long,—not more than half an hour, perhaps.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Not so much; but I am afraid that would +not do. If you consider how many hundreds of +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.11'>11</span>people are in prison, or otherwise ruined by the +Excise, it seems hardly likely that the king should +give half-an-hour to each.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>One of the inmates of the apartment, who was +keeping himself awake with playing Patience with +the dirty cards, while the other dozed, here put in +his word.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“If his majesty gave his time to every body +that is injured by the Excise, there would be no +time left for any other business; and you are +simple people if you do not know that.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“There is another thing,” observed Le Brocq. +“If the king was on our side, there are his ministers +to convince. Now, it seems to me that +his majesty might not exactly carry in his head +all I might say, to repeat to them; and it would +be as well that he should have it in black and +white.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, a letter to him!” cried Anna, brightening. +“Let me write down to your speaking, +father; now, while I am here; and I can put it +into the post-office as I go home. They say +letters are most sure to reach people when they +go through the post-office.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Anna laid aside her bonnet, put her hair back +from her face, and looked round for something +wherewith to dust the shabby, rickety table. The +card-player picked the pocket of the sleeper of +his handkerchief, and handed it to Anna, who +used it without scruple, rather than that the king +should have to open a dirty letter. But where +was the paper? If she went out to buy a sheet, +perhaps they would not let her come in again; +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.12'>12</span>and her father had none. The card-player again +offered to be their resource. He proposed to let +them have a sheet of paper, and the use of his +ink, pen, and penknife for a shilling.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Money again!” exclaimed Le Brocq. “The +English go on ruining one another, even in jail, +with asking for money, money, for ever. I shall +pay away no more money, I assure you, sir.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Well, then, money’s worth will do as well. +That young lady has brought something for you +in her basket, I believe?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I have, sir. I have brought something for +my father, as you say; and for no one else. +When we lived in Jersey, it was a pleasure to +make and bake for those that wanted it, and to +give it even before they asked for it. But what +I have brought is for my father’s eating, and not +to pay away for a sheet of paper, when it happens +to be his need to write a letter. Father, I like +this place less and less for you. I did not think +there had been a place, even a prison, where +people who sit at the same table would so take +advantage of one another’s wants.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Even a prison!” said the man, smiling; +“why, ma’am, I hope you don’t think the worst +people are found in prisons? Let me tell you +that those whom you would call the worst have +the sense to keep out of prison. If you had +lived in London as long as I have, you would +see how a prison has lost its bad name; as it +ought to do, if it is to be judged by the people it +holds.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I should be afraid it would give a bad name +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.13'>13</span>to the people it holds, instead of getting a good +one to itself,” observed Anna, sighing.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“No, no. You Jersey people know nothing +about our English prisons. In your island, a +man must be a really bad man, or have done +some one very bad deed, to get himself shut up. +But here, what do you see? Almost all the prisoners +are in for debt, or for crimes against property, +or for revenue offences. The first and +last are not reckoned crimes in a country where +it is so difficult to a great number to keep clear +of money entanglements and of tax-gatherers; +and under the other head come those who would +not have done worse than their neighbours, but +for such want as you do not see in Jersey. In +our prisons, you meet more of the poor and the +ignorant than of the guilty; and, this being +seen, prisons are losing their bad name, as I +said, among the people. You will hardly speak +ill of them, from this time forward, your father +having been in one, and hundreds more as good +as he.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Anna saw that there must be something very +wrong about all this. It perplexed all her notions +about guilt and punishment. She had till now +looked upon her father as an injured man, and +regarded him as an innocent person, detained by +mistake in a horrible place, and among vile companions; +and now to be told that the only mistake +was in her notion of a prison, and that her +father was no more than an ordinary inmate, +dismayed her so that she desired to hear no more. +She spread out Louise’s letter, and proposed to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.14'>14</span>write on it in pencil what her father had to say +to the king; and to copy it out fair at home. The +card-player found it to no purpose to reduce his +terms. His first overcharge had deprived him +of a customer for his dingy paper and dusty ink. +The letter was as follows:—</p> + +<div class='quote'> + +<p class='c001'>“I, John Le Brocq, have something to say +to your majesty which may prove of equal +consequence to us both, and to many more. I +am sure your majesty cannot be aware how +much harm is done by the way in which your +majesty’s taxes are collected. I really think that if +any one had set himself to work to devise a way +for taking as much as possible from us people, +and giving as little as possible of it to you the +king, and hindering manufactures and trade at +the same time, he could not have hit upon a +cleverer scheme than that of the excise system +of taxation. As for myself, I have only to say, +that I would rather have paid twice over as much +as your majesty has received of my money, than +have been deluded and cheated as I have been; +of which, however, I beg to add, I believe your +majesty entirely innocent. The fault is in the +system, sir; and I believe you did not make it. +But here I am in prison. My son is gone away, +we do not know where; and my daughter is +under prosecution, having (as I will say, though +she holds the pen) never had an evil thought of +your majesty in her life. All this is from our +having fallen into mistakes about taxes which I +am sure we never made any difficulty about paying. +Not having been told what a large capital +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.15'>15</span>I should require for advancing the tax on the +stone-bottles I make, and for paying the high +wages my men must have to buy taxed articles, +I should have found it difficult to get on, even if +I had not been fined for breaking laws which I +defy any man to learn in a day; and which, I +must say, do not tell much to the credit of those +who made them. And how much of this goes +into your majesty’s pocket, after all? for that is +the chief point. I, for one, know of a crowd of +fellows that have to be paid out of the money in +question for spying and meddling about our +premises in a way that hinders our work terribly. +One in ten or twenty,—ay, one in fifty of these +men would be enough to collect what we should +have to contribute, if we each knew our own +share, and might pay and have done with it. +And these men are not all that profit by the +plan. It affords a good excuse for making +people give higher prices than the tax of itself +would oblige them to give. Your majesty may +have heard what the tavern-keepers did when a +tax equal to twopence a bottle was laid on port +wine? They clapped on sixpence a bottle directly; +something in the same way that we put +a higher price on our stone pots, which are not +taxed, to make them more nearly equal with the +bottles which are taxed. This saves us in part +from the spite of the glass-bottle makers, who, I +fancy, were the parties that got our article taxed; +but it has the effect of stinting the use of them. +Your glass-bottle duty brings you in a very little +more than 100,000<i>l.</i>, and that on stone-bottles +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.16'>16</span>little more than 3000<i>l.</i> a-year; while, if there +were no such duties, there would be so much traffic +in foreign mineral waters, and other liquids that +people cannot get on account of the duty, as +would much improve the affairs of the shipping, +and the wealth of your majesty’s subjects, who +would then easily make you welcome to more +than the sums named above, if you could not do +without them. Then the army of excisemen (who +can hardly be a sort of persons much to your +majesty’s taste) might be employed in helping +instead of hindering others’ business. Then +again, please to think of the injury to thousands +of men from trade being cramped and put out of +its natural order. To make soap and glass and +my particular article, there is much coal wanted; +and for paper-making, iron machinery; and for +all, houses, and furnaces or coppers. Now, if the +trade in each were not cramped by the dearness +of the article, there would be more work for the +woodcutter and the carpenter, for the miner and +coal hewer, for the brickmaker and the shipmaster, +and a great number more. O, your +majesty may depend upon it, however much +may be said about the riches and glory of this +kingdom, it might be richer and more glorious, +and far happier, if your people were allowed to +pay to the state in a less wasteful and pernicious +way; while you would find your advantage in +it before the year was over. If you should please +to consult your ministers about this, and to order +them to let me out, I think I could engage to +show them the difference, as far as my own share +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.17'>17</span>is concerned: though the experiment is by no +means a fair one when tried on only one article. +If your majesty thinks of travelling, perhaps you +may manage to take Jersey in your way; and +there I think you will own that the advantage of +steady natural prices and a free trade are very +evident in the comfortable condition of the +people.”</p> + +</div> + +<p class='c001'>“Had not we better stop here?” asked Anna. +“I am afraid if we make it longer he will not +read it.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Le Brocq was sorry to leave off just when he +was about to describe his own country; but he +acknowledged the propriety of doing so. Anna +just slipped in a postscript of her own.</p> + +<div class='quote'> + +<p class='c001'>“Perhaps your majesty will consider the mischief +of a man like my father being shut up and +treated like a criminal, in such a place as a +prison, where he can only play cards to pass the +day, (and that with disagreeable people,) instead +of being industrious in his family, as he would +wish. Perhaps this may lead you to take pity on +my mother, who, for all her Bible can say, is +worn down with grief; and on my brother, who +is a wanderer from fear of a prison; and on me, +who am in the like danger. Next to Him who +bindeth and looseth, your majesty is our only +hope,—not only for present pardon, but for +altering the laws, that we may not fall into the +like trouble again.——Your obedient servant,</p> + +<div class='c028'>”<span class='sc'>Anna Le Brocq</span>.”</div> + +</div> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_4.18'>18</span>“How much of that letter do you fancy the +king will ever read, if he gets it?” asked the +card-player, smiling.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“It is hardly long enough to tire him much, +if it is nicely copied; and ours is very good ink,” +replied Anna.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But I mean, do you think he will find it +worth attending to?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“They say he used to write frequent letters to +his father and mother when he was young; and +so he must know that when people write a letter, +they like to have it attended to.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Then, if I write to you, ma’am, I shall expect +an answer.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You can have nothing to say to me which +you cannot say now to my face—an opportunity +which we have not with the king,” replied Anna, +quietly. She then turned to her father, and +offered to bring him dominoes, which she thought +he would like better than those cards. She also +hoped she could borrow a book or two from the +Durells. Permission was given to try; but she +was warned that her request might be refused if +it was really Durell’s doing that the family were +persecuted and distressed. She knew that this +was so far from being the case, that Durell himself +was under extreme vexation from an imputation +of Studley’s, that he had allowed himself to +be bribed in his office by the Le Brocqs; but +there was no hope of persuading her father yet +that Durell was not an enemy. She succeeded +better in another direction. She got leave to +consult with her mother, and see whether the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.19'>19</span>fine could not be raised. Le Brocq really looked +and felt very unwell; and the unlimited prospect +of confinement, dust, disagreeable companionship +and dominoes, was far from cheering.</p> + +<p class='c001'>The sun now shot its level rays upon an opposite +roof which glittered back into the apartment.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“This is just the weather and the time for +seeing Coutances Cathedral,” observed the prisoner, +as Anna was about to leave the room. She +also was just thinking of Jersey, its wide views +and pure atmosphere; but she had said nothing +to tantalize him who was confined in a space of +twenty square feet.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You may leave me Louise’s letter, after all,” +said he, forgetting what was written on the back. +He was chafed at the circumstance, but would +not read the epistle before witnesses. He would +wait till Anna’s next visit; but, as soon as she +was gone, he gave away the supper she had +brought him, and rejected all amusement in +his pining for news of his blossoming orchard, +and of the fruitful pastures of his native island. +While he settled within himself that Anna was +an unexceptionable daughter, his mind’s eye was +occupied with Louise, hailing her graceful kine, +or pacing on her pack-horse through the deepest +of the lanes. When he looked round him, +he wished that it was dark, that he might fancy +himself there.</p> + +<div> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_4.20'>20</span> + <h3 id='ch4.2' class='c016'><span class='sc'>Chapter II.</span><br> <br>KNITTING AND UNRAVELLING.</h3> +</div> + +<p class='c017'>The pottery business was not brought quite to a +stand in consequence of the master’s absence. +The women could not undertake to carry it on +as usual; and there was not money enough +coming in to pay the people’s wages: but Anna +was on the spot to read the letters that came; it +was thought a pity that the horse should either be +sold or stand idle; and, what was more, the boy +Brennan seemed to have gained ten years in +spirit and wisdom since he had been taken notice +of by Durell. One of the workmen, who had +been on the premises a good many years, and +who cordially disliked Studley, was willing to do +his best to keep the concern going, either till +Aaron should appear or Le Brocq be released. +The little fellow at the lathe remained, and one +furnace was employed, just to execute the most +pressing orders, and preserve something of the +credit and custom of the establishment. Nothing +more than executing orders was attempted; for +it was very undesirable to add to the stock. +Anna’s wish was to dispose of enough of this +stock to pay her father’s fine and the law expenses, +which together made no small sum: but, +whether from a suspicion respecting the fair +dealing of the family, arising from Le Brocq’s +imprisonment, or from the absence of all the +parties who could push the business, no sales +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.21'>21</span>could be effected. Durell put her in the way of +advertising in the newspapers; from which +nothing accrued but the expense of the advertisements. +Brennan exerted all his ingenuity to +embellish his handy work; but his endeavours +brought no new customers. He was chidden by +the man under whom he worked for his fancies +about new patterns. He was grumbled at by +his comrade at the lathe for keeping him after +working hours, to finish some fresh device. He +was gravely questioned by his mother about +spending a portion of his hard earnings in buying +some new runners which formed a remarkably +pretty ring-pattern for his jars; and, after +all, nobody bought a jar or a flask the more. +Hour after hour, Anna sat amidst her stock, +growing nervous over her work in listening for +footsteps. Day after day, she came in to dinner, +without any news for her mother, and almost +afraid to meet her inquiring eye. The stock was +offered at a low price. If she could have sold +the duty-paid part of it, her father would have +been injured by being compelled to sacrifice his +interest upon the advance of duty he had made +for his customers. As it would not sell, he was +more injured still. He could not get back the +principal of this advance. It seemed as if Le +Brocq could not escape in any way from being +injured by this excise system. So it was; and +so it is with all who in this country buy any +thing, or make any thing, or live in any less +primitive manner than Robinson Crusoe or Little +Jack.</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_4.22'>22</span>There was another reason for Anna being +nervous over her work, besides listening in vain +for customers. The affair of the tea had never +come to an end. From the quantity of business +before the court, and from other circumstances, +it had been postponed; and one or two of +Anna’s friends had tried to persuade her that +she would hear no more of it. But she was too +anxious to be easily comforted. She knew +Studley too well to believe that he would stop +short of injuring the family to the utmost. She +found that she was legally guilty; and she suffered +little less than if she had been morally +guilty. Day and night was the idea of approaching +exposure and punishment before her. There +were but few people,—not half-a-dozen of her +nearest neighbours,—who would believe in her +utter ignorance of the excise laws; and her character +for fair dealing would be gone. If Aaron +had not run away, she almost thought she should. +She could now fancy how people might be driven +to destroy themselves. The old feeling which +had embittered her childish disgraces now came +back upon her,—that if she could but get out of +this one scrape, she would go somewhere where +she could never get into another. If she forgot +her apprehensions for an hour in her concern for +her parents’ troubles, they came back to plunge +her into redoubled misery. It may be doubted +whether many criminals suffer so much in the +prospect of their trial and punishment as did this +innocent girl from the consequences of a factitious +transgression. They who prepare the apparatus +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.23'>23</span>for such transgression can little know +what demoralization and misery they are causing, +or they would throw up their task.</p> + +<p class='c001'>She knew Studley best. She was the least +surprised, though infinitely the most dismayed, +when the crisis came at last. She heard her +mother’s heavy tread in the shed below, and +could trace her progress to the foot of the stairs +by the jingling among the wares.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Anna! Anna, child!” exclaimed the old +lady, out of breath with her exertions. “Here +is Mr. Studley! you must come down; he won’t +leave his business with me.” After an interval, +“Anna, child, do you hear?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Yes, mother.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Then, are you coming?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Yes, mother.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Well, make haste.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Studley was there in his capacity of messenger. +His errand was not, to his taste, so +good as if he had come with a levy warrant, +or a body warrant;—a summons was but a +poor infliction; but, such as it was, he enjoyed +it.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“When must I go, sir?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“To-morrow, at eleven. You must be at the +court by eleven precisely, remember.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And may I take any body with me, sir?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Do you mean as counsel, or merely as a +support to your spirits?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I have nothing to defend, sir. I have no +other excuse than my not knowing the law; and +I can as well say that myself as get anybody to +say it for me. I only mean that I should not +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.24'>24</span>like to be quite alone, if the law allows me to +take any friend with me.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, if you can persuade any body to appear +with you, I have no idea that the court will +make any objection.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Will you please to stop a moment, sir? Is +it the same court that my brother was to have +appeared in, or some other?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Bless me, what an idea! You do not take +me for a servant of the police magistrates, I +suppose? It was before two police magistrates +that your brother was to have gone; and I +summon you before the Excise Court of Summary +Jurisdiction. There is all the difference +in the world.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>It might be so; but to Anna’s ringing ears +and bewildered comprehension they were much +alike. Studley applied himself to explain. The +police magistrates were, according to him, far +less awful personages, inasmuch as they tried all +sorts of people for all sorts of offences; while +the Commissioners deputed from the Excise +Board to sit as judges in the Court of Summary +Jurisdiction concerned themselves in nothing but +excise offences or complaints. They had a vast +deal of business to do, and sat twice a week for +nine months in the year.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Then I think,” observed Mrs. Le Brocq, +“there must be more breaking of the excise +laws than of any other kind of law.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“There is a great deal of that sort of thing. +Miss Le Brocq will find herself by no means solitary. +The court settled eleven hundred cases +last year, do you know?”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_4.25'>25</span>“Well, if I were the king,” said the mother, +“I had rather go without some of my money +than have eleven hundred of my subjects brought +into one court in one year, for not paying me +properly, through mistake or otherwise.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>When Anna could think, she remembered her +former determination to ask Mrs. Durell to go +with her before the court. She lost no time in +proceeding to her house to make the request.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Sit still, Stephen,” said she mournfully, when +she saw that Stephen was trying to shift out of +sight, as was his wont when any of her family +were known to be near. “Sit still, and put away +your meek look before me. You have nothing +to fear from any of us, even if I held proof in +this right hand that you had done what we +thought you did. We are ruined now. We have +no heart to defend ourselves, or to try to punish +our enemies.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Pooh, pooh! this is all about the tea. +They have been troubling you about the tea,” +said good Mrs. Durell; “and so you can see +nothing but what is dismal this afternoon.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Indeed, Mrs. Durell, it is too true,” replied +Anna, struggling with her tears. “I just came +to ask you to go with me to-morrow morning—to +be at the court by eleven o’clock.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I have no objection in the world, my dear, +but this. It might not be thought well for the +surveyor’s wife to be with you, perhaps. It +might give occasion for something being said. Is +there no other friend who might do you more +service?”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_4.26'>26</span>Anna had no other friend. She could not +think of taking her mother into a place so strange +to her, and to see such a sight.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Such a sight! Why, what sort of sight? +How my husband would laugh at you, if he +were here! One would think you were going +to be tried for some foul crime. You will be +surprised to find what a simple, easy thing it is, +after all you have been fancying. O, I will go +with you, my dear, if you can’t find a better +person.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I do not think we need mind your being a +surveyor’s wife,” said Anna, “when we consider +how the court is made up of people that are connected +together. The people of this court accuse +me; and the people of this court summon me, +and bear witness against me; and the people of +this court judge and punish me. I never heard +of such a court before; and I cannot say I think +it a just one.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“There you are only of the same mind with +everybody else, Anna. It is a kind of court +which might better suit some slavish country than +Great Britain. Without finding any fault with +the gentlemen who sit in it, one may venture that +much. The gentlemen understand their business +very well, people say; and there is great +convenience, in so complicated a system, in our +having a place where excise matters may be +settled speedily and cheaply, in comparison with +what they might be under some other plan: but +all this does not mend the principle of the court; +through which the court might, if it chose, ruin +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.27'>27</span>half the traders in London. It is too great a +privilege for any set of men to have,—that of +meddling with thousands of traders in the heart +of the empire, and taking the accusing and +judging and punishing all into their own hands. +There now! there’s a sigh! as if they were conspiring +against you. If you will believe me, it +will be over in a few minutes; and everybody +will forget all about you the moment you have +turned your back, and a new case is called on.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“No; not Mr. Studley.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, yes: Mr. Studley too; and, what is +more, you yourself. You will have forgotten +what took you there by the time you come away +again. At least, I never went there without +seeing or hearing something that took me out of +myself for the whole day after.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>There was not much comfort in this; and +Anna found she must wait till the next day to +know fully what it meant. Mrs. Durell’s next +piece of advice undid all the little good she had +done by making light of the occasion. She +thought the intended visit to the prison had +better be deferred till to-morrow afternoon, or the +day after; as Le Brocq would perhaps lose his +night’s rest in thinking about what was to +happen in the court. This proved to Anna that +she was not the only one who saw something +serious in the affair.</p> + +<p class='c001'>How should she dress? If she wore her best, +it might be taken for defiance. If her everyday +dress, (now shabby,) it might look like +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.28'>28</span>wishing to attract compassion. Mrs. Durell assured +her that there would scarcely be time for +any one to note her dress; but she did the kindest +thing in inducing Anna to look altogether +Jersey-like, so that her true account of herself +and her error might be corroborated by her +costume.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Did not your mother say kindly that she +would teach Stephen to knit?” said Mrs. Durell.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ay, who should forget old quarrels, if not such +good people as you? And think of the benefit +to Stephen to have such a resource! to have +something to employ his hands upon in rainy +weather, when my Jack is gone to school! It +would be a good time to begin this evening, I +think, if you like to take him home with you. +Stephen will be glad to do his part towards the +forgiving and forgetting, I have no doubt.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Anna saw at once what a happy thought this +was. Her mother liked nothing so well as teaching +people to knit; and if a blind person, so +much the better;—it took twice as long. It +would help off this heavy evening, and save Anna +from the <i>tête-à-tête</i> with her mother which she +dreaded nearly as much as what was to follow. +Stephen seemed on the eve of a yawn at the proposal; +but he knew his own interest too well not to +seize this opportunity of placing himself on good +terms with the Le Brocq family; and he consented +to accompany Anna home.</p> + +<p class='c001'>He made himself particularly agreeable, and +fancied that he might have been more so if they +would but have invited him to sing: but he did +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.29'>29</span>not choose to offer it, remembering where he had +once volunteered a similar service before. As he +could not sing, he told some of his adventures, by +bits and snatches, in the intervals of letting down +stitches and waiting to have them taken up again. +The reserve of the old lady melted away under +the glow of conscious benevolence, while imparting +her own favourite accomplishment to another; +and Anna relented as she saw her mother +cheered; and the faster in proportion as she became +so herself.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Nothing is so strange to me,” she said, +after a pause, when the evening was far advanced, +“(and I cannot help thinking that it is a thing +too strange to last,) how people shut their minds +up,—how much they hide from one another, when +they are brought as close together as face to +face in water.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ay, mistress, there you have Scripture for +its not being so for ever.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And other signs, too, besides that Scripture +saying. But, for an instance of what I mean, +Mr. Stephen, here are you sitting between my +mother and me; and for want of a window in +your breast, we know no more of what we want +to know, and of what you could tell us in two +minutes, than if you were at one end of the world +and we at the other.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I thought of that,” replied Stephen, “when +I saw John Baker standing to take his trial for +murder, when he had been beside me, and both +of us like brothers, for a month. There, thought +I, stands the man, with the secret in him: and +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.30'>30</span>when he was questioning and cross-questioning +one and another, it seemed a ridiculous beating +about the bush, just for want of a window in his +own breast, as you say. But I wonder what +makes you think it will ever be otherwise. If +men were all made alike, I grant you there would +be a chance of all being known; for they are the +fewest, I fancy, who can never be melted into +telling everything. I am sure when an old comrade +gets me beside him under a sunny hedge, +or when Mr. Durell and I are over our spirit +and water, there is nothing that in some moods +I can keep to myself.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Anna inwardly wished that it might be so when +he was sitting between two knitters, sociably +learning their art.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But,” continued Stephen, “there are, and +always will be, men whose taste is for secrecy. +There will always be men who will no more make +a clean or an open breast than they would pull +their hearts out.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“They will be read, like others, for all that,” +Anna said. “The longer men live together, and +the more their eyes are turned upon each other, +the more they learn to gather from signs. See +how much doctors learn from marks which signify +nothing to us, and the deaf from countenances, +and the blind from tones of voice, and then tell +me whether, if we were as observant as all these +together, we might not read more of a man’s +mind than we now think of. And if we also +study the make of the mind as some have learned +to do, we may get to know of things unseen, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.31'>31</span>something in the way of the wise men who can +tell us, years before, when a comet is coming,——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Or of the common man who knew the exact +spot where a lion was, miles off, before it could +be either seen or heard.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“How was that?” asked Mrs. Le Brocq, with +some scepticism in her tone.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“He saw a large bird of prey in the air, so +far off that it seemed but a speck. It hovered, +which showed that there was a prey beneath; and +it did not drop, which showed that something +was beside the prey which prevented the bird +from seizing it; and, from the nature of the +country and of the bird, that something could be +nothing but a lion; and a lion it was. It was +by putting things together that the man knew +this; and it is by putting things together that +men will be known, if ever they are known.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I am sure it is much to be wished that they +should be,” sighed Anna.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Well, now, I don’t agree with you there. I +think half the fun in life lies in men puzzling +one another, and watching one another in their +puzzle.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“It has been the amusement of your life, we +have some reason to think: but we have only too +much cause to wish that hearts could be laid open +to man as they are to God, The greatest support +that we have in God is in being sure that he +knows all; and if men could read us as thoroughly, +and be sure that they read aright, there would be +an end of our troubles. My father would be +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.32'>32</span>seen to have meant no mistake, and I to have +never had such a thought as cheating the king; +and we should know where Aaron is, and exactly +why he went away. It seems to me that men +make almost every sin and trouble they suffer +under; and that it is done by making mysteries +and laying snares for one another.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mrs. Le Brocq had hitherto looked rather less +solemn than had been her wont since the afflictions +of the family began: but now her tears +were falling on her knitting needles, and Stephen +overheard a little sob. He entreated her not to +vex herself, and to hope that all was well with +Aaron, and so forth. But this is not the kind +of consolation which will satisfy any mother’s +heart; and Mrs. Le Brocq said so.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“If you would comfort me,” said she, “you must +tell me where he is. How should I believe that +all is well with him when there is the sea where +he may be drowned, and the workhouse where he +may find his way as a beggar, and plenty of +prisons where he may be shut up, and snares +spread every where for him to fall into? I never +hear of any evil happening but I think that he +may be in it; and when I pray——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, mother, hush! Don’t speak so, mother.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I say, child,—it may be a sin, but I can’t +help it,—I have often lately in my prayers fixed +a time when I will despair of God’s mercy if my +boy does not come or send: and always as the +time passes away, I do the same thing again; and +cannot set my mind either to give him up, or to +hope with any certainty to see him more. You +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.33'>33</span>are a good child to me, Anna; and all that you +say about trusting is very right; and I dare say it +comforts you, though I have overheard you crying +in the night oftener than you know of. But for +myself I say, if you wish to comfort me, tell me +where Aaron is.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Well, then, I will tell you where he is,” +cried Stephen, throwing away his handywork. +“I don’t know what I may get for it; but I can +no more help it than I could help telling anything +to poor John Baker, when we sat under a +hedge, as I said, and he kept all his own secrets +while I was telling him all mine.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Neither Anna nor her mother spoke a word. +It had never occurred to them that Stephen could +know more of their nearest concerns than they +did themselves.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I will tell you where he is,” continued Stephen, +“and you may trust me for knowing; for +it was I that helped him off, and put him in the +way of a flourishing business. But you must +promise me to tell nobody what I say. That is, +I suppose you must tell Le Brocq, but not till he +has engaged to let it go no farther.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The promise was readily made, and then Stephen +told that, so far from its being reasonable to +expect Aaron when any one approached the +house, Aaron was far off on the sea. He was +plying in a smuggling vessel between one of the +Channel islets and the south coast of England.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Aaron a smuggler!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Yes; and with all his heart. He had very +little reason to like the law, while he was within +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.34'>34</span>its bound; and was not at all sorry to get out of +its bound. Would it not be just the same with +your father, now, if he could get away? Has he +any reason to like the law? and do you think +even he, though he is an orderly man enough, +would hold it any great crime for a persecuted +man to go beyond its reach?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I call it coming within the reach of the law, +not going beyond it,” said Anna, mournfully. +“The way to get out of reach of its oppression +is to go back to Jersey; and that is what I trust +my father will do. O, why did not Aaron do +that?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“He was afraid of being laid hold of either by +the law or by your father,—and Aaron has no +taste for tyranny, either way. The open sea, with +a lawless calling, is much more to his mind. +While he was here, he had no more chance for +freedom than a midge in a field of gossamer; +and now, he is like a roving sea-bird, lighting +on a rock to rest when he likes, and then away +again over the waters.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You will not deceive us any more, Stephen, +by your way of hiding ugly things with fine +words. The plain truth, dress it up as you will, +is, that Aaron is living by braving the law. You +know that he cannot show himself fearlessly among +men: you know that he comes abroad at night +because his works will not bear the daylight. +You must have taken advantage of him in his +distress, or he could never have thought of such +a step. But I think no distress that I could ever +fall into would make me follow your bidding, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.35'>35</span>seeing how you have already deceived us to our +ruin. O, why did not Aaron go back to Jersey?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I wish, mistress, you would be a little less +hard upon me. I did the best I could think of +for your brother. When he came to Mr. Durell’s +to learn what was likely to befall him, I thought +it only kind to tell him, as soon as Durell had +turned his back, that there were means at hand +for getting away, and leaving the tread-mill far +behind him.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“So far we are obliged to you, I am sure,” +observed Mrs. Le Brocq. “I should not have +liked to see my boy on the tread-wheel.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“So I knew, and I asked no reward beyond +what it cost him nothing to give. I went +with him myself, and introduced him on board +a boat that you may have chanced to see off +Gorey in the season. It is all very well to go +and get oysters; but there is another more profitable +sort of business to be done in those seas,—and +will be, as long as the Customs duties of +this country remain as they are. So, Aaron was +off with a fair wind and tide; and I suppose he +may now be cooling himself in a sea-cave, without +leave of the law, since the law took him off +from broiling himself beside a glass furnace.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Does Mr. Durell know where he is?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“He never asked me; and, depend upon it, +he will never ask you.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And what was the reward you desired of +Aaron that it cost him nothing to give?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Only just a promise that I should hear nothing +more of certain caps and handkerchiefs that +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.36'>36</span>you lost, once upon a time. You will have a +letter from Aaron, (when he can send it so that +you shall not know whether it comes from east +or west,) to ask you, for his sake, never to mention +that matter more.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“So you did take them! I do believe you +are a smuggler yourself,” declared Anna. There +was a tremor in her voice which showed Stephen +that she was more or less alarmed at sitting next +a smuggler and a thief.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Don’t be thinking of shifting your chair, +Miss Anna. My pranking days are past. A +cursed bitter wind, one cold night, inflamed my +eyes, and brought me to the pass of being scarcely +able to tell bright moonlight from pitch darkness; +and then I could be of little use on the sea. +I tried what I could do for our company on land, +by discharging an errand or two for them, one +of which was at your farm. But the hue and +cry you made after me through all the island +spoiled my game; and there was nothing for it +but giving up and coming here, that I might not +hurt those I could not help. So my pranking +days are over.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Then you are only half blind? Where is +our linen? How did you get away?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I shall tell you, because you cannot recover +the goods, in the first place: in the next, your +credit is none of the best, just now, and would +not overbalance my denial in any court; and +lastly, I consider that I have paid off my debt in +saving your brother. Come, come: no sighing +over my plain-speaking, or I shall leave off +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.37'>37</span>speaking plain. I am full three quarters blind, +and so only one quarter a knave. I can see the +candle on the table; but I should not know you +from your mother, except by the walk and the +voice. I can see a field from an orchard, but I +could not have found my way if your brother had +not first guided me. As for your linen, I did +not steal it to make money by. It is bleaching +on certain rocks beside the sea, or worn by some +of the sun-burnt damsels that Aaron knows by +this time,—who can keep watch as well as any +coast-guard, or broil a fish handily when there is +notice that the boat is creeping home through +the land-shadow. They wanted a supply of such +things; and I promised to bring some ready-made: +but I went to the wrong place. In England, +one may carry off a crammed washing +basket, and nobody thinks it much of a wonder; +but in Jersey, one might almost as well steal the +island charter, to judge by the hue and cry that +was made after me. I never saw such simple +people.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“That comes of not making crimes of things +that are innocent in themselves,” said Anna, +proud of her native island. “If it was treated +as a crime to make soap or burn glass in one way +rather than another, people would soon grow +careless of so common a thing as crime, and +make much less difficulty about breaking the law +whenever it suited them. They are the most moral +people who know of no crimes but those which +God has called such, and who, while they pray +‘lead us not into temptation,’ take care to add +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.38'>38</span>none to the temptations that God thinks enough +for their strength.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But how did you get away?” asked Mrs. +Le Brocq. “I was awake a long while that +morning, and I never heard you stir.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“That was because I was gone, I suppose. +Knowing that it would take me some time to +get down to the shore, I only waited till you all +seemed sound asleep. The finding the latch of +the door was a long job, wishing as I did to +make no noise. When it was done, I expected +to have come back again, for I made a great +stumble on the threshold.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I wish you had done it as you came in,” +observed Mrs. Le Brocq. “It would have been +a token to us to look more closely after you.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“If you had dogs,” continued Stephen, “they +were so obliging as to be very quiet. There was +only one creature that made a great noise,—and +that I had no objection to,—an owl in the ivy +about your chimney. I could not for the life of +me help standing to shriek like an owl, to keep +it up. I have often thought since how I stayed +leaning over the palings, hooting, when my proper +business was to slink away. Well, when I +had got down to the brook-side, it took me some +time to gather the linen together.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“We have often wondered how you managed +to carry it all away.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“It was a heavy load for some way; but I +left the half of it on the ridge, when I was once +clear of your place,—left it for my comrades to +fetch when I had got down to the boat, and told +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.39'>39</span>them where to go for it. Luckily for me, you +had been washing a large bag——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“My wool-bag!” exclaimed the old lady, +piteously.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Your wool-bag, was it? I am glad it had +wanted washing that time. I crammed it full of +the smaller things, and the rest made a great +bundle tied with a coil of Aaron’s cord which I +found in his coat-pocket. You remember I had +his clothes on?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>This was a fact not likely to be forgotten.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I went down with the bag, and left the +bundle just on the off-side of the ridge. The boat +was dawdling within hail, all as it should be, +though they had nearly given me up; for I had +been so long groping about that it was nearly +time for you early Jersey people to be up and out +of doors. Two of our comrades went up for the +bundle, and carried——I dare say you will not +believe what I am going to say now?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Why not?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Because in Jersey you are not up to the +smuggling ways which are well enough understood +everywhere on the south coast of England. +We expected that you would do as the people do +there;—if your horses were found tired in the +morning, or any convenient thing taken away, +look round to see what was left in exchange, or +trust that something would come, and hold your +tongues about the trespass. Supposing you understood +all this, we sent up a choice cask of +spirits and a package of tobacco, and some prettier +things for you ladies than any we took away. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.40'>40</span>These were to have been left for you on the +ridge; but we soon saw it would not do.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“We should never have guessed,” said Mrs. +Le Brocq; “and indeed I do not well understand +it now. But how do you mean that it +would not do?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“By the fluster you made, our people saw +that it would not do,—that you would have us +followed, if we left any sign of who we were, +and what part of the coast we had been upon. +It was easy to see that you were not the folks +who could take a hint. There were your fowls +fluttering, and men’s and women’s voices shouting, +and Le Brocq thumping with his great stick, +and one of the poor young ladies leaning her +head against her cow to cry.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Did they see Louise do that?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Miss Louise, was it? Yes, they saw it; +and very sorry they were when they found how +the thing was taken; but it showed them that it +was time to be off. So they crept round under +the rocks till they could stand out among the +boats from Gorey, being pretty sure that they +would pass unquestioned through the Thames +and Medway men, who know something of what +must happen on the Channel waters while the +Custom-house interferes between the French and +English as it does. Now, Miss Anna, let me +have the pleasure of hearing that you believe my +story,—that you perceive that I am not a common +thief, and that you will fulfil your brother’s +wishes in sparing me all future allusion to my +Jersey adventure.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_4.41'>41</span>“I cannot help believing your story, Stephen; +and I only wish the King and his Ministers +could hear and believe it; and see how, through +their way of taxing, a man that scorns being a +common thief is proud of being an uncommon +one. Yes, Stephen, you are a thief, and you +have helped to make Aaron one. You were a +thief towards us, and Aaron is one towards the +Government, getting his living as he does by +robbing the State of some of its dues. God +pardon those that made dishonest men of you +both! I had rather see Aaron on the tread-wheel +for an offence of mere heedlessness than +out on the free waters on a guilty errand. You +have done him no real good, Stephen. Boast no +more of it.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I swear that I have,” said Stephen, with his +usual good humour; “and I can do more: I +can make the good extend to you. I know you +want to get rid of some of your stock; Durell +told me so. I can put you in the way; but +Durell need not know that. It is a pity that +your bottles, and your pretty stone spirit-casks +should stand piled upon one another here, of no +use to anybody, while Aaron and his party are +bringing over liquors——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Now have done, Mr. Stephen. One might +think you were a tempting spirit, sent to try us. +You would sink my mother and me next, I suppose?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Not sink, but raise you, my dear;—get your +father out of gaol, your fine paid (for I suppose +it will end in your being fined to-morrow)——Plague +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.42'>42</span>on it! here is Durell,—come for me, I +suppose. Very kind of him to come himself! +Always kind, I am sure: but if he had left me +another half hour.——Not a word before him, +remember.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I was afraid you would find Stephen a bad +scholar, Mrs. Le Brocq,” said Durell, taking up +the knitting from its dangling position over the +side of the table. “Offer to give Stephen a lesson +in anything, and it always ends in his giving +you a story instead.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“That is what I have been doing to-night, +indeed,” replied Stephen. “But you never saw +two people more in need of a story than these +ladies. They are as frightened about this little +matter of to-morrow——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“My wife sends her love to you, Miss Anna,” +said <a id='corr4.42.18'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='Le Brocq'>Durell</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_4.42.18'><ins class='correction'>Durell</ins></a></span>, “and she has been thinking, +ever since you saw her, about going with you +to-morrow; and she has made up her mind that +it will be against your interest, that she, a surveyor’s +wife, should appear with you. She adds +that if you still urge it——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“By no means,” said Anna, quickly. “I can +go alone. If it is God’s will that I should have +no friends, I trust it is His will that I can do +without them.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You will never be without friends while my +wife and I live,” replied Durell, calmly; “but I +was going to add, for my own share, that I could +not think of any member of my family appearing +in that court as the friend of any offender. +We know perfectly well that you are as innocent +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.43'>43</span>of any intended offence against the Government +as my boy Jack; but the offence is real in law. +I owe duty to the Government, and it would disgrace +me in my office, it would be a failure of +duty to appear to countenance any transgression +of the law which it is my business to enforce. +One of the penalties of such an office as mine is +to have to speak and act in this way to a friend,—to +one whose offence is merely legal, not +moral—but you see——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I see.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Well: you shall not go alone. Brennan’s +mother is a very decent good woman; and she +is so obliged to your family for your kindness to +her boy, that she will go with you with all her +heart.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Do not say ‘with all her heart.’ Say rather +because you asked her,” said Anna, feeling the +humiliation of owing this kind of obligation to a +stranger.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Nay. Hear from the boy himself, if you +will, whether his mother is not pleased to be of +use to you; and if there is anything, my dear, +that we can do for you without compromising my +duty, only send for me. If you want any more +law knowledge, I may be able to help you, knowing +how little is learned and wanted in Jersey; +and if you should happen to fall into further +trouble, you may look far and wide for a better +comforter than my wife. Come, Stephen, are +you ready?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Anna’s heart sank as they closed the door behind +them. She and her mother looked at one +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.44'>44</span>another without speaking. They had been beguiled +for a time by Stephen’s strange stories; +but, this being over, they now found that the best +thing they could do was to go to bed.</p> + +<h3 id='ch4.3' class='c016'><span class='sc'>Chapter III.</span><br> <br>A MATE FOR MOTHER HUBBARD.</h3> + +<p class='c017'>Do criminals feel glad or sorry when they wake +and find it broad morning, two hours before their +execution? Are they thankful to have been beguiled +with sound sleep, or had they rather have +had broken slumbers, finding again and again +that it is still dark, or only just dawning yet? +To those who love their beds, and dread the coming +of the hour of rising, and nothing worse, +there is something pleasant in being thus repeatedly +reminded that it is not time to get up; but +how it may be when a worse evil impends has +perhaps never been told. Anna’s experience +(and she felt that her case was very like a going +to execution) could not throw any light upon +the matter; for she did not sleep at all.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Breakfast was as much out of the question as +sleep. She did not pretend to take any, even to +please her mother, for she had something to do +which would occupy her whole time till Mrs. +Brennan came for her. During the night it had +occurred to her that there could be no harm in +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.45'>45</span>carrying with her a copy of her father’s letter to +the King, lest that which she had put into +the post-office should not have reached its destination. +The employment was good for her. +It prevented her being in quite so disagreeable a +state of palpitation and thirst as she might have +suffered if she had been quite at liberty for watching +the clock. The Brennans came at last before +they were expected.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Your boy with you, Mrs. Brennan! Do +you mean him to go too?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“He is so very anxious, ma’am, to be of use +to you; and it struck him that you might wish, +in the middle of the business, to send for somebody, +or to have some kind of messenger at +hand.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Anna shook her head. Whom could she send +for at her utmost need?</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I wonder,” said Anna, when she had put on +her shawl, and was casting her last fluttered look +around her,—“I wonder whether I should take a +pound or two of that tea with me. The gentlemen +may require to see it.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I should be disposed, ma’am,” said Mrs. +Brennan, “to leave it to the informers to show +the article that they complain of. It is not your +part, I should think, to be aiding their cause.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Anna had opened the door of the cupboard +where her packages of adulterated tea were +ranged as neatly as every other article which the +house contained. She now quickly closed it, and +seeing that there was no further pretence for lingering, +solemnly kissed her mother and departed.</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_4.46'>46</span>As they walked, Mrs. Brennan showed herself +to be a partisan of Anna’s. In this leaning towards +the defendant she was only like other people. +Where the King is prosecutor, not paying +for his law, the popular inclination is usually +against him; and especially when he sues for his +moneyed rights. This indicates the policy of contracting +instead of multiplying such proceedings +to the utmost.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I am afraid the judgment will go against +you, ma’am,” said the good woman, “and it is +the best kindness to tell you so beforehand. +There is little hope for you against the King, +especially when he makes other people pay his +lawyers. A gentleman that I knew was fined +50<i>l.</i> and the costs came to 500<i>l.</i> In this court, +however, there are often no costs, and the business +is done pretty quickly and cheaply,—which does +not, as I say, make it the less a pity that it should +have to be done at all. You are lucky, too, +ma’am, in not having to do with a jury, as juries +were, on excise cases, some time ago. Ma’am, +the jury used to have two guineas and a dinner +when they found a verdict for the Crown, and +only one guinea, and no dinner, when they found +for the defendant. You may suppose the accused +seldom got his cause.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And yet juries seem generally to be thought +good things for the accused,” observed Anna.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Some people consider it a great stretch of +power to do without them in excise cases, +ma’am; but, dear me, there would be no end of +trials by jury, if all that are informed against +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.47'>47</span>were so tried. The court would have to be open +all day from the first of January to the last of +December, and a thousand people a year would +be ruined for law expenses. Besides, they say +that the quick judgments given by these gentlemen, +on the information of their own servants, +strike a wholesome terror into folks, without +which the laws would not be observed.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Anna could answer for the terror. Whether +it was wholesome was another question.</p> + +<p class='c001'>How she reproached herself for her terrors +about her own fate when she witnessed some of +the cases presented this day in court! She could +have been amused at some, from the apparent +frivolity of the charges, if the consequences had +not appeared more grave than the accusations: +but there were others which could be viewed only +with intense commiseration.</p> + +<p class='c001'>What had Dennis Crook done that he was +called upon to pay 4<i>l.</i> 15<i>s.</i> 4½<i>d.</i>? Dennis Crook +was a paper-stainer, and had neglected to pay the +duty of 2<i>l.</i> 7<i>s.</i> 8¼4<i>d.</i>, and he was therefore called +on for the double duty in order that the single +might be recovered, with costs. Poor Dennis +declared that he had told the collector that he +would pay the duty, and the costs with it, the +first day that some money which was due to him +should come in. It was very cruel of the collector +to bring him here, knowing that he had no +wish to evade the duty, and that the bringing +him here was enough to ruin his business. It +had got abroad already, and he had lost two +customers by it. God forbid that he should +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.48'>48</span>be so inconsiderate to the person who had +brought him to this by not paying him to the +day! Dennis could not pay the penalty till this +person yielded him his due,—not a bit the more +for being brought here; but that person should +not be exposed by him as he was exposed in this +court, to the destruction of his business. If he +should never pay another shilling of duty to the +king, the court might ascribe it to his difficulties +being laid open in this way,—difficulties which +might have been got over easily enough if the +court had not stepped in between him and his +customers.—The court did not see what it had to +do with all this. The single duty, with a small +increase for costs, was squeezed out of poor +Dennis, who went away, pulling his hat over his +eyes, and saying that this would be the signal +for his landlord to turn him out of the little shop +in which he had carried on his business for many +years; and God only knew where he was to +establish himself next.</p> + +<p class='c001'>What could have brought hither that respectable +elderly woman, who looked as if she could +never in her life have broken a law or a rule? +She came to save her son from a prison, if it +might be within her small means to do so. On +his coming of age, she had given up to him the +small tenement she possessed. She had better +have kept it till her death. He had been seduced +into a “speculation,” and had set up a private +still. The still and all the spirits on the premises +were seized, and the mother was now here to pay +the penalty of 100<i>l.</i> which was just half of the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.49'>49</span>little portion she had destined for her daughter. +She knew that it was more likely that she should +have to maintain John than that he would ever +repay this 100<i>l.</i>, for his character was gone. She +cast down her eyes while she held out the money, +with a trembling hand, and did not speak to John +as they went away, though he looked as if he +longed above everything for a word from her. +Mrs. Brennan found that much explanation was +necessary before Anna could believe that all this +ruin was caused by the act of distilling spirits +without the leave of the government</p> + +<p class='c001'>A widow, in shabby mourning, with a babe in +her arms, was quietly crying in a corner. She +had sold her furniture by auction, and had +neglected to get a license. She had better have +kept her furniture; for the penalty swallowed up +nearly all the proceeds of the sale. Anna +thought this the most cruel levy of a tax she had +ever heard of; for this poor woman would not +have sold her furniture if she had not been in +want. To be compelled to pay for permission +to do what was in itself a hardship, was a +stranger piece of oppression than Anna had witnessed +yet,—much as she had seen. She followed +the widow, to make sure of the facts, and +found that the poor woman had been on the +point of setting up a little shop, and sharing a +cheap lodging with a brother: but now that her +money was almost all gone, she could see +nothing before her but selling fruit in the streets; +but, in that case, she must look about for some +one who would take care of her baby, while the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.50'>50</span>other two little ones must tramp the streets with +her. If she had but sold her furniture in any other +way! But her brother advised an auction, and +had taken upon himself to be auctioneer; and +how could she suspect what would happen?</p> + +<p class='c001'>The wonder was how those to whom the public +money came at last could enjoy it if they knew +of its being wrung in ways like these from the +ignorant, the simple, and the distressed. The old +and obvious question recurred,—why not ask the +nation for the money that is wanted, instead of +filching it? Why not settle openly how it is to +be paid, and take it directly, as rent is taken, or +as contributions for any other object are collected? +Surely no objections to this simple +method of taxation could long stand when our +great nation of buyers and sellers had once +found the comfort of natural and regular prices, +of wages not arbitrarily and uselessly raised,—the +luxury of being rid of the oppression of +Custom-houses and Excise courts, and of the +plague of a spreading host of revenue spies. +Little could be said of the dignity of the circumstances +out of which the State funds arise by any +one who had seen others of the cases which Anna +witnessed, and which really amused her, and beguiled +her of her apprehensions for a time. It +seemed ridiculous that the king should, by his +officers, be seriously complaining of being injured +by one man selling pepper without a license, +and another removing wine without a permit, +and a third having more brandy in his cellar +than he declared he had, and a fourth having rum +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.51'>51</span>under a certain strength among his stock, and a +fifth forgetting to keep an entry-book, and a sixth +tying up his pasteboard in a wrong way, and a +seventh having neglected one night to put down +how much black tea he had sold in small quantities. +It did not seem very dignified in any +government to concern itself and worry its subjects +about such matters as these. Anna could +have laughed once, when the mention of black +tea brought her back to a consciousness of her +own awkward predicament.</p> + +<p class='c001'>What she had seen had much abated her +horror, however. She was able, when called +upon, to say that she found she had committed +an illegal act, but that she was not the least +aware, at the time, that she was doing anything +improper, as was shown by her offering some of +her thorn leaves to persons who were passing +through the field. She could not think it very +kind of those persons to pass by without giving +her warning of what she was doing. She saw, +to be sure, that they looked grave upon her; +but how was she to know why, unless they told +her? In Jersey they would not have treated a +stranger so.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And pray do they make tea of thorn leaves +in Jersey?” asked one of the gentlemen.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Very rarely, because tea is so cheap there +that it would not be worth while; but anybody +may do it that likes. I should not have thought +of doing it here but for the dearness of tea; and +I never could have supposed that the custom of +the country was first to render tea so dear as to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.52'>52</span>tempt us to make it for ourselves, and then to +punish us for so making it;—a thing we should +never otherwise have thought of.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Studley, on whose information, supported by +witnesses, the whole proceeded, smiled maliciously, +and said that the young woman showed +what family she belonged to by her enmity to +the Excise. It went in the family; her brother +having absconded to escape an excise charge, +and her father being now in prison in consequence +of one. This statement made the +expected impression. How could the gentlemen +do otherwise than think ill of such a family of +delinquents? Studley followed up the matter by +declaring what trouble the Excise had with the +Le Brocqs. There was no other set of people +that he had had to watch so closely; no other +premises that he had been obliged to enter so +often.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“It is very easy to watch people, Mr. Studley,” +said Anna, “without showing that they have done +wrong; and entering premises by day and night, +week after week, does not prove that anything +amiss is found there.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“It answers another purpose, if I may say +so, gentlemen,” interposed Mrs. Brennan. “If +an excise officer has a spite against a family, +nothing is easier than to take away their character +by frequent search, which I believe is what +Mr. Studley is trying to do with this family. I +wish, gentlemen, that you would ask Mr. Studley +what he has found in any of his searches from +the day that Mr. Aaron went away.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_4.53'>53</span>“Impossible,” said one of the commissioners. +“We have nothing to do with the character of +these people; as you, Studley, ought to have +remembered before you entered upon matters +with which we have no concern. The charge +was admitted. That is all we have to do with.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Studley was ordered to recover a fine,—a +small one, for the gentlemen saw something of +the nature of the case,—and to destroy or see +destroyed the adulterated tea. Anna humbly +listened to the unnecessary admonition not to +repeat the offence, and then begged the gentlemen +to let her father out of prison, where his +health was suffering materially from the confinement. +This kind of petition must be sent to +the Board, accompanied by a medical certificate +of the state of the prisoner’s health, one of the +gentlemen was informing her, when Studley interfered +to allege that Le Brocq was well able +to pay the fine,—better able than a hundred +men who had petitioned the Board in vain for +their release.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“If that be the case,” said a commissioner, +who had a little attention to spare from the case +which his colleagues had now called on,—“if +that be the case—Is it the case, young woman? +Tell me the truth.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“If my father’s stock could be sold, he might +pay,” Anna declared: “but nobody comes to +buy; and nobody will come now that Mr. Studley +has taken away our good name by following +us for evil as he has done.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“He must do his duty. I can hear no complaints +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.54'>54</span>against him for doing his duty. If he +has given you cause of complaint, you can have +redress by applying in the right quarter.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But, sir, what can I do about the fine? My +mother and I are willing to work night and day +to raise the fine, if we knew which way to turn +ourselves: but there seems to be so much danger +in employments here that we are afraid to begin +any new ones.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, any one will tell you the law, if it is that +you are afraid of. What sort of employment +were you thinking of?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“My having been asked for so much of my +own tea made us think of selling tea and groceries: +but I have seen people fined to-day for +selling pepper without leave, and having tobacco +in a private room, and forgetting to set down at +night what they sold in the day, and also for +finding that they had more on hand than they +had given an account of. I should be afraid, +sir, to sell groceries. But there is another thing +that was partly put into my head, and partly +thought of by myself, owing to our having a great +quantity of duty-paid bottles unsold. My +mother and I have always been used to make +cider, and some kinds of sweet wine. There is +talk of a great deal of ginger wine being likely +to be drunk this year, for fear of the cholera. +We might make it at little risk, as ginger is so +cheap an article, and we have the bottles.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Well: you can but try. You are aware, I +suppose, that ginger is not so cheap here as you +can get it in Jersey? Ginger pays duty here.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_4.55'>55</span>“And sugar is taxed too, and so is your little +matter of spirit, ma’am,” interposed Mrs. Brennan. +“You must not go to work, reckoning +the cost of all your materials at what you might +get them for before you came here.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“She may easily learn the prices of things,” +said the condescending commissioner; “and +then she has only to take care to give in her +name and place of abode, and of her rooms and +utensils; and to renew her license (which will +cost two guineas) every year; and to give notice +when she intends to draw off her wine; and to +be careful not to send it out in less quantities +than a whole cask containing fifteen gallons.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Anna looked dismayed, and asked,</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And should we have anything to do with +Mr. Studley in that case, sir?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“If his superiors find that he has reason for +suspicion, he may enter at any hour, provided he +takes a constable, at night. He may also break +walls and pull up floors, if he believes that anything +improper in his line is concealed there; +but you would be careful to avoid dangers of this +kind, and get yourself visited daily, according to +law, to obviate suspicion.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Every day, sir!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Yes; if you make wine. If you only retail +it, once in twenty-eight days is all you are subject +to; and the annual license for mere retailing +is only a guinea, the notices and entries being of +the same kind required of makers. If you combine +the two——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I cannot, sir. I dare not. Your gentleman +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.56'>56</span>would be bringing me up and fining me once a +week, sir.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, you could not get very deep into any +scrape, I assure you; the state gets only between +two and three thousand pounds from all the sweet-wine +makers in the kingdom. There are four +who pay less than 1<i>l.</i> a year, and no more than +six who pay above 100<i>l.</i>; and only twenty-three +makers altogether. Even the retailers are under +nine hundred in number. It is an insignificant +concern altogether.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“To the king, perhaps, sir; but not to me, if +I have to pay tax upon what my wine is made +of, and a tax for making it, and a tax upon the +bottles that hold it, and a tax for selling it; and +if I am liable to be watched and tormented by +Mr. Studley, or men like him. I think, sir, the +government might really give up such a vexation, +if it brings in so little—so very little.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And employs a good many people like Mr. +Studley, at a hundred a year,” added Mrs. Brennan. +“I think, ma’am, you must give up your +idea of making wine.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Yes, indeed,” replied Anna. “Perhaps, sir, +as it is for the king’s sake that I am prevented +getting money for my father, as I otherwise +might; and as you are one of those who manage +these affairs, you will not refuse that this letter +should go to his majesty. It is from my father, +sir, copied by me, and asking no charity at all, +but only consulting about what is best for both.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The commissioner was unwilling to let such a +curiosity escape. The letter was wafered, so that +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.57'>57</span>he could not ask to glance his eye over it. He +would fain keep it, but did not like to deceive +the poor girl with false hopes. Anna was pleased +to see him hesitate. Studley stopped his laugh +of ridicule. Mrs. Brennan could scarcely refrain +from nodding triumphantly at him. The commissioner +turned from them to say a few words +to his colleagues, so that Anna could not see his +face. He soon returned, quietly saying,—</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I am not sure that I can get this letter into +the king’s hands; but you may leave it with me; +and if your father cannot pay his fine by this day +week, you may come here again, and we will consult +upon his case. Studley, the fine to which +this young woman has made herself liable is remitted. +It is clearly a case of remarkable ignorance. +The adulterated tea must be destroyed, +of course. You will see to it; but treat her +gently, if you please.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The commissioner then explained to Anna that +all who were discontented with any decision of +this court might seek redress in the Court of +Appeal. Anna found it difficult to understand +exactly what was meant. The only clear idea +she carried away was that nobody ever applied to +this Court of Appeal; so that most people began +to wish that it might be done away as one of the +useless burdens of the Excise. She was sure +that she should not be the next person to appeal. +The court might be done away for anything she +had to say against it. Its being seldom or never +applied to seemed to show that the court she was +now in was thought to conduct its business well; +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.58'>58</span>but it appeared to her that it would be a happy +thing to sweep away both, and all excise jurisdiction +whatsoever.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Where is Brennan?” asked Anna, when she +and her companion had made their low curtsies, +and turned round, with lightened hearts, to go +away.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“He was off some time since,” Mrs. Brennan +replied; “to run and tell your mother how matters +were going, I dare say. They have been +merciful to you, ma’am; and I give you joy.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, Mrs. Brennan, I think I never will dread +anything again. I have often said so before, +finding what I most dreaded come to a very +little. I never was so frightened in my life +before; but I really will try never to be afraid +again.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>She spoke a moment too soon.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And what do you want with us pray, Mr. +Studley?” inquired Mrs. Brennan, perceiving +that that person walked close to Anna, as if he +regarded her as more or less in his custody.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Going to discharge my duty,” replied Studley. +“The adulterated tea is to be publicly destroyed, +you know, as bad books are burned by the common +hangman.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Publicly!” repeated Anna, in consternation. +“Where? How?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“In your father’s yard. There cannot be a +more convenient place for a bonfire.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Do you mean to burn the tea in sight of all +the neighbours?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“That depends on whether they choose to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.59'>59</span>look. I shall certainly not try to hang up any +sort of blind.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I wonder at you, ma’am,” said Mrs. Brennan, +“that you go on asking him questions, just to +give him the pleasure of making sharp answers.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Anna said no more. She was thrown back +into her former state of trepidation. It was as +much as she could do to walk straight. Mrs. +Brennan seemed to think it a waste of time (or +perhaps she considered it bad for Anna) to keep +silence for so long a space. She began talking +of her boy, and fished for a few compliments +for him; but her companion seemed strangely +careless of what she was saying.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What a smell of burning!” Mrs. Brennan +exclaimed when they drew near the pottery-yard. +All three looked round for tokens of fire; and +Studley observed that one might have thought +the furnaces were all employed, as they had been +in his time. Smoke was coming out of the +window of the kitchen, and even oozing from +under the door. Anna really believed that the +place was on fire, and exclaimed accordingly; +when Brennan put his head out at the window, +and Mrs. Le Brocq opened the door. Both +seemed terribly heated, and made a display of +scorched cheeks which would have done honour +to a Christmas fire. It was evident from their +looks that nothing was the matter.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Let me in,” said Studley, in a voice of authority. +“Clear a space in the yard for the fire. +Boy, call the workmen (if there be any now-a-days) +to clear the yard for the burning; and if +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.60'>60</span>nobody is on the premises, fetch some of the +neighbours.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What may you be pleased to be going to +burn?” asked the boy, briskly.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“My tea,” faltered Anna. “Come this way, +Mr. Studley, and I will show you the cupboard +where every grain of it is; and if you have any +kindness in you, you will be quick with the job, +and finish it before the neighbours can gather +about us. Mother,” continued she, as she entered +the kitchen, whose atmosphere was rapidly +clearing, “what have you been about? The +hearth is piled up with ashes as high as the grate, +and the grate is heaped half way up the chimney; +and you look ready to faint with the heat and +the vapour.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Mistress won’t mind it, since we have got +done in time,” observed the boy, cheerfully; and +then he began humming a tune. Studley had +meanwhile advanced in slow dignity to the place +which Anna had indicated to him. There was +nothing in it. While he took an astonished survey +of the shelves, Brennan went on from his +humming to singing, and his words were some +that every child is familiar with,—</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c029'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“And when she came there,</div> + <div class='line'>The cupboard was bare,</div> + <div class='line in2'>And so the poor dog had none.”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c003'>“The poor dog, ha, ha!” repeated Mrs. +Brennan, laughing. “And so the poor dog had +none! So he put his tail between his legs, and +slunk away, I dare say. Did not he, my dear?”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_4.61'>61</span>Studley was now obliged to do something very +like this. The boy had been quick. The moment +he heard the tea condemned to destruction by +the court, he ran with all speed to discharge +Studley’s errand for him. The last packet of tea +was smouldering when he heard Anna’s exclamation +that there must be a fire somewhere. +Studley would have Mrs. Le Brocq’s tea-caddy +brought down; and he fingered and smelled the +contents. They were perfectly unexceptionable; +and nothing remained for him but to go away. +He felt to his back-bone the slam of the door +behind him, and to the bottom of his soul the +significance of the buzz of voices that came +through the open window as he passed it. That +Anna should escape thus easily was the last +thing he had designed. And what an impudent +little wretch that boy was, to be insulting him,—so +lately his superior at the pottery,—with his +nursery rhymes! All day, nothing would stay in +Studley’s head but</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c029'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“The cupboard was bare,</div> + <div class='line in2'>And so the poor dog had none.”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<h3 id='ch4.4' class='c016'><span class='sc'>Chapter IV.</span><br> <br>FRIEND OR FOE?</h3> + +<p class='c017'>Though Anna’s adventure in the court had +ended much less unpleasantly than she had +expected, she had no strong inclination to appear +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.62'>62</span>upon the scene again. The words “this day +week” were for ever on her mind; and hour by +hour she revolved the possibilities and improbabilities +of her father being able to discharge the +fine within the time specified. The first day +passed over pretty well. Her mother and she +were full of the satisfaction of her own escape. +On the second day, they consulted about advertising +their stock again, and wished they had +done it yesterday. Anna went to get the +Durells’ opinions; but nobody was at home +except the maid, who could or would give no +account of her master and mistress, and was not +over civil in her manner. Night came before +the question of advertising or not advertising was +settled; and the next morning, Mrs. Le Brocq +seemed rather disposed to have an auction, at +which the stock, the household furniture, and +the pottery business might be all sold together, +so that the family might be off for Jersey the +moment Le Brocq should be released. Anna +was alarmed at the idea of an auction, fearing +some difficulty or danger about the duty. +Mr. Durell had offered to assist her with his +knowledge of excise law, in all cases of need; +and once more she sought him. This time the +Durells were at home: but the maid scarcely +opened the door three inches, and was positive +that her master and mistress could see no person +whatever, even for two minutes. Jack’s face +was visible for an instant, peeping under the +maid’s arm; but, on being spoken to, he disappeared +behind her skirts, and would not be +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.63'>63</span>persuaded to show himself again. Mrs. Le Brocq +was more bent than ever on having the auction +when her daughter came home bringing no +opinion against it. She had got a glimpse of +the prospect of seeing her Louise again, and had +much to say that had been said often before on +the hardship of not having seen poor Louise ever +since the first week of her marriage. Who +could tell whether, if this auction should go off +well, she might not, even yet, be with Louise +before her confinement? She was not sparing of +her reproaches to Anna because she would not +begin her preparations this very evening: but +Anna would do nothing without consulting her +father, whom she could not see till the next +afternoon; and so the third day passed without +progress being made towards paying the fine, +and there was every prospect of the fourth +elapsing without any further advance than the +formation of a plan. Her mother hurried her +away, when the time drew near for her visit to +her father; and so did her own inclination; +though she hardly expected that the prison-doors +would be opened any sooner on account of her +impatience. Her mother and she had better +have been more reasonable. She had not been +gone more than four minutes, (and she had to +wait ten at the prison gate,) before a stranger +arrived on business. He came from the Board +of Excise, on a little affair which would be easily +transacted,—over in a quarter of an hour; there +was no occasion to trouble any of the family +further than just to show him the way to the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.64'>64</span>stock-room. His people were behind with the +cart; and he had desired them to be as quiet as +possible, and give no trouble. He was an excise +officer, come for the purpose of levying the fine +for which Mr. Le Brocq was now imprisoned.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Nothing could exceed the old lady’s consternation. +Her first idea was that it would be politic +to carry herself high. She therefore declared +that she could not think of admitting a stranger +on any such errand. Mr. Durell was the +gentleman they always employed on this kind of +occasion.</p> + +<p class='c001'>The officer half smiled while he explained that +it was the Board, and not traders, who were said +to employ officers on excise business; and the +Board must choose what officers it would send on +particular pieces of service. He was aware that +Mr. Durell was an intimate friend of the family; +but Mr. Durell would not be seen by them on +this occasion.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And now, ma’am, here come our people. If +you will just show us the way, as I said, we will +not trouble you to stay. You may trust the +affair to me. I have orders to be considerate; +and you shall have no reason to complain. I will +look in upon you when we have done, and leave +with you the order for release, which you will +allow me to wish you joy of.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>No such thing. Mrs. Le Brocq saw no joy in +the affair. Here was Studley: there was the +cart with another attendant; and her husband’s +beautiful jars and filterers were being handed +into it, to be carried off. She declared she +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.65'>65</span>would appeal to the neighbours. She would +raise the neighbourhood.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Let me advise you not, madam. I have +desired my men,——Studley, be more quiet, will +you?——I have desired my men to make no disturbance: +and, if you make none, the neighbours +will take us for customers, and you will be +spared all disagreeable remarks. Be quick, +Studley!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mrs. Le Brocq loudly exclaimed that they +might well desire quietness when they came like +thieves to carry away her property. They had +good reason to fear being mobbed; and mobbed +they should be. The officer quietly and civilly +showed his warrant, and cited that clause of the +Act which provides that all persons who oppose, +molest, or otherwise hinder any officer of excise +in the execution of his duty, shall respectively, +for every such offence, forfeit two hundred pounds. +The good woman dared do nothing worse after +this than turn her back upon the trio and their +occupation, and shut herself into her house. +There she sat, rocking herself in her great chair, +and not even knitting, when, in less than a quarter +of an hour, the officer tapped at the door, and +requested admittance. At first, she would not +hear; and when she dared be deaf no longer, she +became lame, and made him wait, on account of +her rheumatism, as long as she possibly could. +It gave him pleasure, he said good-humouredly, +to deliver to her the order he held in his hand, +his little business being now finished. Her hands +were too busy, as she pretended, fumbling under +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.66'>66</span>her apron, to be at liberty to take the note. She +bade him carry it back to those that sent it; and +when he declined doing this, she sullenly nodded +towards a table where he might lay it down. +He obeyed orders, touched his hat, and departed.</p> + +<p class='c001'>She was still rocking herself in her great chair +when Anna returned.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, mother, what has happened now?” cried +Anna, seeing that matters had gone wrong during +her absence. “Mother, speak! Have the +Excise been upon us again?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“To be sure: carrying off all we were going +to sell by auction. They want to put me into +prison, too. I shall never see Louise more.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, mother, did they say so?” cried Anna, +sinking into a chair. “I hope, at least, they +will put you beside my father;—and me, too,” +she faltered, as the idea crossed her of her being +left alone on the premises, her parents in prison, +and the Durells, from some cause, inaccessible. +“Mother, how could they have the heart to tell +you that you must go to prison? Was it +Studley? I suppose it was Studley. And when, +mother? When——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Her mother let her go on tormenting herself till +the frequent repetition of the question “when?” +compelled her to admit that nobody had exactly +said that she was to go to prison. But they +could mean nothing else by robbing her of all +that she had left. By degrees it came out that +Studley had been very quiet, and in fact had said +nothing at all; that if he had, it should have +been the worse for him; that the officer who +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.67'>67</span>was set over him would not soon forget his visit, +for Mrs. Le Brocq had shown him, when he +offered that bit of paper (lying on the table there) +that she would not touch with a pair of tongs +anything brought by him.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Without the intervention of a pair of tongs, +Anna took up the paper. Minute after minute, +she stood with it in her hand, her mother not +condescending to take any notice. She leaned +against the table, and again began to ponder it, +the intent of the whole proceeding opening upon +her more and more distinctly.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I could wish, mother,” said she at length, +“that the gentleman had asked you to read this +paper, or had told you something of what it +means, that we might not seem to the Board to +be ungrateful. As far as I can make out,—I +am pretty sure,—our fine is paid, and my father +may come home directly.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mrs. Le Brocq was in due amazement: but, +when she had taken out her spectacles, and read +the order for the release of her husband, his fine +being paid, she comforted herself about her own +manners by observing upon the improbability of +her receiving any civility from the Excise; and +that, after all, there was no occasion to thank them +for letting her husband out of prison, when they +had done him such a wrong as ever to put him +in. She now found that it was possible for her +to get as far as the prison; a thing hitherto not +to be thought of. Anna would gladly have left +her behind, so impatient was she of every moment +which must elapse before her father could +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.68'>68</span>know of his release. Her mother was terribly +long in getting herself ready for her walk; and +such a walk Anna had never undergone, except +in a dream. At last the moment came when the +door of the well-known apartment was opened +before her.</p> + +<p class='c001'>She had hitherto seen her father only at an +hour when she was expected; and then he was +always sitting at the table, or pacing up and down +the room. She now found him lying at length +along a bench, his face resting on his hands.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“He is ill!” cried Anna, pressing forward.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Far from it, ma’am,” said the man who had +offered to sell her a sheet of paper. “No worse +than usual, ma’am. That is the way that he +spends most of his time, except when he is expecting +you; and then, who could look doleful?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Le Brocq had started off his bench on hearing +Anna’s voice, and shaken himself, to get rid of +his sloth or his emotion, whichever it might be +that kept him lying there. When he saw his +wife, he was sure that something remarkable had +happened; and most probably of a disastrous +nature: for Mrs. Le Brocq’s leading taste, next +to knitting, was for telling bad news. He was +not sorry, however, to find that good news would +serve her turn when there was no bad to be had.</p> + +<p class='c001'>It is surprising how people get good manners +without teaching,—some very suddenly, on particular +occasions of their lives. Le Brocq had +been considered by his prison companions an +under-bred, churlish sort of person: but now he +was full of courtesy, from the moment he knew +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.69'>69</span>that he was going to leave them. He hoped +they would find the improved space and air they +would have in consequence of his absence a great +advantage. He sincerely trusted that nobody +else would be put there to intrude upon them as +he had done. He was flattered at the groaning +sigh and melancholy look with which this was +received, not suspecting the nature of the regrets +felt by his comrades,—regrets after the dominoes +which he had not forgotten to pocket, and after +the relief they had enjoyed from the irksomeness +of double dumbie, if they played whist at all. +They would now have willingly buried in oblivion +all the faults of his playing, for which they had +often pronounced him to his face incorrigibly +stupid,—all would they gladly have forgiven and +forgotten, if he could but have stayed to save them +from double dumbie. But it could not be. Le +Brocq was on the point of saying that he should +be very happy to see them if ever they should +chance to be travelling near his place in Jersey; +but he remembered in time what was due to his +family, and what had arisen already out of the +visit of one questionable personage. He was +sorry now that he had beguiled some irksome +hours with exact accounts, perhaps too +tempting, of his farm, and of his mode of life in +Jersey, with all its advantages; and when his +prison-mates asked what he meant to do with +himself now, he gave an answer implying an +intention to remain in London,—not a little to +the dismay of his wife and daughter.</p> + +<p class='c001'>He seemed, when he came out, to be suddenly +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.70'>70</span>smitten with London. Brennan was waiting +outside, with a smiling face. He had come, +thinking he might carry his master’s clothes-bag. +Le Brocq was sure there was no such place as +London for having little services done for you, +almost before you can wish for them.—The party +crossed one of the bridges. Really, he believed +there could be no such river in the world as this +river in London; and he defied anybody to +match St. Paul’s as he saw it now.—What a +beautiful sunny evening it was! How the sun glittered +on the water! His wife, who was puffing +and blowing, wished it was not so hot; and +Anna ventured to hint that he might perhaps +think the more of these things from having been +shut up so long. For her part, she liked a strait +of the sea better than any river. This hint threw +her sober father into an ecstacy about a strait of +the sea; notwithstanding which, it was still difficult +to get him off the bridge. When this was +accomplished, however, the shops and carriages +did as well; and a bunch of fresh flowers at a +greengrocer’s made him mentally drunk. Anna, +thinking him now in the best mood for friendship, +paused when they came to the turn which led to +Durell’s house, and proposed that they should go +round, and tell their friends the good news.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ay, to be sure,” replied her father. “It +would be a pity to go home yet,—such a fine +evening as it is.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Brennan observed that he could still carry +something more, now he was so near the pottery. +If Miss Anna would trust him with the basket, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.71'>71</span>he would step on with the things. Anna gave +him also the key of the house-door, and asked +him to see that the kettle boiled by the time she +should arrive to make tea. She saw by her father’s +countenance that the very words were delicious +to him, and he owned as much as that nothing +gave such an appetite as the fresh air.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But I am sure Mrs. Durell is at home,” said +Anna, when the little girl once more declined +letting anybody in. “I saw her cap as I passed +the window. Tell her, my dear, that if she is +offended with us, we wish she would tell us why; +and, whether she is offended or not, I should like +to see her for two minutes, to tell her something +that I am sure she would be pleased to hear.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The little girl looked behind her, and Mrs. +Durell appeared, thin, and anxious-looking. She +cast a glance up and down the street before she +spoke, and then merely said that there was no +quarrel; that her husband was ill and out of +spirits; she would thank them to be so good as +not to come in now; and as soon as she could, +she would call in upon them, or send to know if +Anna could spare her a quarter of an hour. But +not now.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“We could not now, Mrs. Durell. Here is +my father—going home with us to tea, you see. +We have a great deal to tell you; and perhaps +we shall have but a short time to tell it in. You +must come and talk with us about Jersey. But +I am sorry Mr. Durell is ill. Is it only just to-day? +or has he been ill long?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“He has had enough to make him ill these ten +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.72'>72</span>days. God knows what will become of us all! +But he has done nothing wrong, Anna, if you +will believe me. Good bye, my dear. I cannot +tell you any more now.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Poor Mrs. Durell!” sighed Anna, as she +left the door. “I wonder what has happened +now. I am sure it is something very terrible. +But I knew she could not have quarrelled with +us.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Poor woman!” said Le Brocq, complacently. +“This evening would be hardly the time to +quarrel with us, however it might have been +while I was away. They will keep on good +terms with us now, I dare say. Poor woman! +She looks very pale. She looks as if she had +been shut up. She cannot have been much out +of doors lately, I fancy. Ah, ha! Here we come +near the soapery. We are near home now. There +is the great ladle still! You have let the ladle +stand, I see.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I hope it will stand there long after we are +gone out of the way of the soapery and the pottery, +and all the places here,” Anna ventured to +say.</p> + +<p class='c001'>What could be the reason that they could not +get into the house? Brennan was not visible +and the door was locked. On looking through +the window, the clothes-bag might be seen, and +the fire was blazing, so that he had certainly been +home. What could have become of him and the +key? It was impossible to be angry with anybody +this evening; so Anna found a seat for her +mother in the yard, and she and her father went +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.73'>73</span>to the rear to look at the river from the wharf. +There was so much to see and admire as the +boats put off and returned, so much wondering +how that wooden-legged waterman would manage +to keep his footing, so much speculation as to +whence such and such vessels came, and whither +they were going, that tea was forgotten, after +all, till Brennan came running to tell them that +it was ready.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“There, now; this is what I call comfortable,” +declared Le Brocq, as he entered the parlour, and +saw, not only tea, but a pile of hot cakes and a +jar of flowers. “How in the world do you get +such flowers here? They might have grown in +a Jersey meadow.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“They seem to me the same that you admired +in the shop as we passed,” said Anna. “And +I know the pattern of the jar. It is one that +Brennan has been making after his own fancy.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Le Brocq could not but have thought this jar +a very beautiful one, in any of his moods. This +evening he was disposed to pronounce it the most +elegant that had ever proceeded from any pottery; +but Brennan modestly disclaimed this. It +did not come up to the one that put the idea of +this into his head,—one that he had seen at the +British Museum.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Bring the other one that you made after +this,” said Anna; who explained to her father +that there was one other jar which Brennan himself +thought superior to this; and that a third +had come off the wheel this morning which was +likely to be the best of all. These jars were all +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.74'>74</span>the boy’s own property, as he had paid by extra +work for the clay and the use of the apparatus. +The boy did not bring the second jar, for the +good reason that it was no longer within reach. +He had parted with it to the green-grocer for +the flowers, and money enough to buy these hot +buttered cakes.</p> + +<p class='c001'>It was difficult to make the boy sit down to +table near his own flowers; and then he was too +modest to be easily persuaded to taste his own +cakes. It was not for himself that he got them, +he said.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Did you ever get anything for yourself?” +Anna inquired of him.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, yes, ma’am; many a time.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What was the last thing you got for yourself?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Some new runners for the jars. If you +please to look, ma’am, this here is a new pattern +quite.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“If you had a great deal of money, what +would you do with it?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I would belong to the Mechanics’ Institution, +and learn to draw; and then I might get the +prize,—a good many guineas.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And what would you do with those guineas,—help +your mother, or marry a wife, or what?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I would get some marble to cut. Marble +is very dear, they say; but I saw a good many +marble things in the British Museum.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Le Brocq, always ready with a word against +Durell, wished he had taken the boy anywhere +but to the British Museum, if he must meddle +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.75'>75</span>with him at all. He had heard the proper place +to take boys to for a holiday was Sadler’s Wells. +If he had gone there, Brennan would have had +no extravagant notions about getting marble, or +anything else that would come in the way of his +being a good potter; and he reminded Brennan +that the Scripture told of a potter at the wheel.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Anna looked at the jar before her, and wondered +whether it would have been produced if the +boy had been taken to Sadler’s Wells instead of +the British Museum.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You had better be a journeyman potter, boy,” +said Le Brocq. “You may make money by informing +against your master, if you watch him +closely enough.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Brennan coloured indignantly, and only said +he should like to cut things in marble, because +the excise had nothing to do with that, he believed. +When the marble was once paid for, +duty and all, there was no more meddling from +anybody.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You had better go with us to Jersey, then, +if you don’t like the excise; and there you will +be free of the customs too. There you may +get what you want, without paying even duty. +You had better go with us to Jersey.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Neither Anna nor her mother attempted to +conceal her delight at the mention of going back +to Jersey; whereupon Le Brocq put on a grave +countenance of deliberative wisdom, and, premising +that he had no wish to exclude so discreet +a boy as Brennan from hearing what he had to +say, went on to declare that his conscience had +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.76'>76</span>long been uneasy about uncle Anthony’s son +Anthony. He could not approve of parental +displeasure going so far as to deprive an only +son of his father’s flourishing business, and leaving +it to comparative strangers.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, father, that is the best word you have +said since uncle Anthony died!” exclaimed +Anna, with clasped hands. “That is,” she continued, +recollecting that she had uttered a speech +of extraordinary freedom, “I have wished, this +long while, that you might be thinking sometimes +of how we came into this business, and whether +it did not rightfully belong to another.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“One could not see in a day what kind of a +legacy it would prove,” observed Le Brocq; +“and I have no doubt that, though it is not exactly +the thing to suit us, it will be as fine a business +to those who have been brought up in a +taxed country as uncle Anthony said it was. +Uncle Anthony did very wrong in leaving away his +property from his only son. The wonder would +have been if, being so bequeathed, the business +had prospered. The proper thing to do next is +to find out where the young man is, and to write +directly to him to come and take possession.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And if he will not come?” said Mrs. Le +Brocq, dreading delay.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“If he will not come, he must dispose of the +business in his own way. That is his affair, not +mine.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Then you do not mean to wait till you can +hear from America? I am very glad,” observed +Anna. “It would take some months to settle +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.77'>77</span>all about the giving up the property, as the owner +is so far off. I am very glad you do not mean +to wait.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I cannot think of waiting for him; or any +longer than to settle two or three little affairs. +Brennan, what has been done about those bottles +that are to go abroad? that large order for +bottles, you know.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“They are almost ready, sir. We have been +doing our best for them with the few hands we +have: and they may be got off this week, if you +so please, sir.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Very well. I shall just finish that and one +or two others of the larger orders before I date +my letter, and make an auction of the furniture; +and then write my letter and be off.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Of this furniture?” said Anna, looking round +her.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“To be sure. Then this boy’s mother, or +somebody, will either come in, or agree to look +after the place till the young man arrives or +writes.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But,” said Anna, timidly, “if the business +is rightfully his, are not the orders and the +furniture his too? I thought we should have to +pay him, if he requires it, for using his right so +long.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Le Brocq muttered that he ought rather to be +paid for all that he had gone through with the +pottery business, though he could not fix the +payment which would compensate to him for +what he had suffered. But he had no doubt, as +he said before, that the young man would make +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.78'>78</span>a fine thing of it; and the young man should +have it.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Then we shall go very soon indeed, shall +we?” said Anna. “Brennan does not like to +hear us say so.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The boy did indeed look grieved. He was +too modest to interrupt their deliberations with +the question what was to become of him; but it +was struggling in his heart. Perceiving him +just about to give way, Anna asked him to see +whether it was a dog that was making a little +noise against the door. Before he could get to +the door, there was a shout which informed them +that it was not a dog but a child. Jack Durell +was not tall enough to reach the knocker, and +he had tried pushing and tapping in vain; so +now he shouted,</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Father says you are to come directly, and +hear the damned bad treatment the people have +given him.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Hush, my dear! hush!” cried Anna. “That +is not the way you should ask us to go.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“That was what father bade me tell you,—that +you are to come directly, and hear——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Well, well: we will come. Did your father +mean all of us, or which of us?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You are all to come directly. Father says +every body shall know.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“’Tis his turn with these fellows now, I +suppose,” Le Brocq observed, looking rather +pleased than otherwise. “Come, wife.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mrs. Le Brocq was still sipping her tea. As +she cast her eye over the table, and saw how +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.79'>79</span>tempting the remnants of the cakes looked, she +felt a distaste to moving away. She sent a long +apologetic message to the Durells about being +very tired after the agitations consequent on her +husband’s release, and was left behind, much to +her own satisfaction.</p> + +<h3 id='ch4.5' class='c016'><span class='sc'>Chapter V.</span><br> <br>THE DARKENING HOUR.</h3> + +<p class='c017'>How strange it is that the inanimate objects +with which people surround themselves appear, +even to strangers, to put on a different aspect +according to the mood of those whom they +surround. It is quite as much the case with the +scenery of a house as with that which is not +filled and arranged by the hand of man. The +natural landscape varies in its aspects from other +causes than the vicissitudes of clouds and sunshine. +There may be a human being sitting in +the midst, through sympathy with whose moods +the observer may find the noon sunshine oppressive, +or may feel his spirit dance with the brook, +or carol with the birds under the murkiest sky. +An infant’s glee at the lightning may almost +make the thunderstorm a sport; and the full +moon may shed no light into the soul of one +who is watching with the mourner. So it is +with the artificial scenery of our houses. There +are ague-fits of the spirit when the crackling fire +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.80'>80</span>imparts no glow of mirth: and the coldest and +dingiest of apartments may, when illuminated +with happy faces, put on something of the light +and warmth of a palace. Durell’s dwelling had +always appeared to Anna a very cheerful one,—with +the employments of an active mistress and a +willing maid; Mary’s work-bag on the table, or +its contents scattered under a chair, as it might +be: Jack’s toys heaped up in one corner; drawings +by the hands of many fair friends hung +round the room; and Durell’s flute lying with +his music books and a few of the poets on the +book shelves. Thus were they arranged this +evening; and there was a small clear fire, and a +sufficiency of light; and yet the aspect of the +apartment struck as deep a sense of gloom on +Anna’s heart as the scene of her father’s +imprisonment had ever done. The children +were not there; Mary keeping by Betty’s side in +the kitchen, officiously helping, in order to escape +being called to her work in the parlour; and +Jack slinking away as soon as his errand was +discharged, to look for Stephen, he said. There +were only Mrs. Durell, hovering about her +husband, with a countenance in which there was +as much terror as grief; and Durell himself, in +his easy chair, looking so wasted, and even +decrepit, as to make the Le Brocqs doubt, for a +moment, whether he was the man they came to +see. Anna did not attempt to conceal that she +was shocked, and asked Mrs. Durell why she +had not sent to their house for aid.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Her husband’s illness had come on so rapidly, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.81'>81</span>she said, that she had scarcely known what to +do: and he had been so unwilling to see any +person whatever! Besides, it was only within a +few hours that he had sunk to what they saw him +now. Every ten minutes lowered him; and, +notwithstanding what the doctor said, she did +not know how to disbelieve her husband when he +declared himself that he was dying.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“His eye is not the eye of a dying man,” +said Anna,—the only consolation she could +give. “Unless it has lighted up with our coming +in——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“It is not so,” replied her friend. “His eyes +have been as bright as diamonds all to-day; and, +I think, quite unnatural. O, my dear, if you +could help me to find out what should be done +for him——His heart is quite broken——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>She could not go on.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I was afraid, by the message he sent——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, my dear, that was nothing to what I +have seen him go through. If you had been +here when he threw himself on the floor because +they told him he would never be allowed to serve +the king or his country in any way again; if +you had heard his prayer for those he must not +serve, you would not wonder at his being as you +see him now.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I am sorry to find you looking poorly, sir,” +said Le Brocq, feeling that he was making a +stretch of complaisance, but having in his mind +something about not trampling on a fallen enemy. +“I suppose these excise devils have been +plaguing you as——as——”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_4.82'>82</span>“As I used to plague others, you were going +to say, sir. Yes: I have had a few messages +from the Board—a few gentle messages. They +sent me word——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>He seemed scarcely able to speak, and Anna +interrupted him with</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Perhaps, as you are so hoarse, Mr. Durell, +you had better leave telling us that till another +time.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“No!” cried he, forcing his voice. “I can +tell you, and I will, what their messages were. +The first was that my business was to act and +not to think; and that, whatever may happen, +my part is to be silent and obedient. There’s a +pretty message to a free-born man! That came +out of what I said at the election where I could +not vote; and of my defending it afterwards at +your house.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, dear! that is a great pity.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Not at all a pity, sir, I don’t repent a +syllable I said there. I am only sorry (as sorry +as they are), that they did not hear of that +election affair before three months were over.—Why?—Because +then they could have done +worse with me than sending me a reprimand. +They could have thrown me into prison for a fine +of 500<i>l.</i>, and declared——But they kept that +for their next message. They could then have +made a martyr of me, sir; such a system must +have martyrs: and I had rather have died in jail, +so that a few people would have asked why, than +just be carried from my own door to my grave +without having my revenge on those devils in +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.83'>83</span>power,—without any body supposing any thing +but that I died, as other people die, in their beds.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But you will not die yet. You are almost +a young man. You must not think of dying +yet.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Only with a hope to live,” interposed Anna, +to whom it was painful to hear people told that +they must not think of dying.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Hope to live!” exclaimed Durell, contemptuously. +“What should I hope for? The only +prospect that could ever have tempted me to +make myself one of their vile crew, they have +blighted and blasted. They took care I should +know, after that election business, that I should +never rise any higher,—that the best I had to +expect was to be graciously allowed,—in return +for promising not to think, but to be silent and +obedient,—to go on being a king’s spy and a +trader’s tormentor for life,—to keep my wife and +children alive with scanty bread soaked in the +tears of my degraded and broken manhood. +This is what they offered in return for my +promising not to think, but to be silent and +obedient.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“They little knew whom they were speaking +to, indeed,” observed Anna.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Did not they know they were speaking to a +man? There are some men that would sooner +watch an ant-hill than a hidden distillery, and +that think of a lark’s nest when they wake in the +morning, and are apt to be looking out after the +stars when they should be asleep: and there are +others that are never so happy as when they are +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.84'>84</span>smelling out soap, and sending a panic before +them. The rulers have nothing to do with these +men’s different tastes, as long as the poet and the +meddler both do their work. But both these, +and all between them, are men: and it is a foul +crime to strip them of their sight and their +strength,—of their reason and their will: and if +it be true that the service they are on requires +such outrage, it only follows that the service +itself is foul. If it would but please God to +restore me my strength for a little while, I would +find a way yet to pull down their despotism upon +their own heads.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>He made an effort to rise, but the ground +seemed unsteady beneath his feet, and he sank +down again.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“They have struck me a deeper blow still,” +said he, “or you would not see me as I am now. +They have believed in my dishonour, on the +information of a scoundrel. They believe that +you have bribed me.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“That was the reason why my husband could +not think of seeing you before: the only reason,” +Mrs. Durell was in haste to explain. “But it is +over now. They have turned him off, on what +Mr. Studley said; and now they want him to be +thankful that he is not fined 500<i>l.</i> Thank God +we have done with them, I say. We shall be +able——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“We have not done with them. We shall +not be able,” cried Durell. “The hounds can +hunt me out of my rest wherever I may choose +to seek it. They boast that they can. They give +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.85'>85</span>me notice that if ever I make an attempt to +serve my country, they shall bring out their +evidence to prove me incapable of ever holding +any office or place of trust under the king.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But if they cannot do it, Mr. Durell?” +suggested Anna.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“They can. Ay: you look surprised: but +they can. I never forgot my honour. I never +took a bribe; for you know that your Jersey pie +and ale were no bribe. But they can prove +against me some things which they can no more +pardon than I can pardon certain of their practices. +If a base wretch joins a better man in +evading the law, and then turns traitor, he is +excused and rewarded: but if a man with a +heart in his bosom gives a friendly warning to +the careless, or passes over the first offence of +the widow that toils for her little ones, he is +under ban, and can never again serve his king. +Such things they may prove against me.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I doubt whether you may not still serve the +king better than you have done yet,” observed +Anna. “I cannot call it doing the king any +service to make the people hate their duty to +him, and to teach them to defraud him. People +should love their king very strongly, for instance, +to wish to yield him their cheerful duty through +all that my father has undergone in paying +his taxes. If you do not collect the king’s +money any more, there are other ways of doing +him service, which must be open to such a man +as you are. Whatever makes his kingdom a +more honourable and a happier place; whatever +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.86'>86</span>makes his subjects a better or more contented +people, is, in my mind, a true and faithful service +of the king.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“That is what I have been saying,” observed +Mrs. Durell.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And what was my answer?” said her +husband: “that not all that the wisest and the +most true-hearted of the people can do to promote +science, and public and private morality, +can make any stand against what these——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Pray do not call them names,” entreated +Anna. “They are men,—men said to be of +honour and principle, whose lot it is to administer +a bad system which they did not make. Do not +let us blame them till we see that they take no +pains to alter that which they cannot approve.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Well: call them men or devils, or what you +will. They administer a system which is enough +of itself to keep us back in knowledge and art +till all the world besides has passed us, and to do +worse for our morals than all our clergy can +cure. I can prove it. As for knowledge, only +look at the paper tax, keeping books and newspapers +out of the reach of those who want them +most, and stinting the class above them of their +fair share of that which God has given every +man as free a right to as to the air of heaven. +As for art,—when was there a nobler triumph of +it than when man fixed a yellow star out above +the sea, to gleam on the souls of thousands of +tempest-tost wretches, like the gospel they +trusted in, and to give the wanderer his first +welcome home?”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_4.87'>87</span>“Indeed we can say that,” said Anna. “Such +a light through the fog was the best sight we +saw in all the sea, in coming; and I never shut +my eyes to sleep now but I could fancy I see +that light, hoping to pass under it before long.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Well: there might now be a light far better +than that, or any light that yet hangs above the +sea; a light that would shine through the thickest +fog, like a morsel of the copper sun that rises +on an October morning,—a light that would +save thousands of poor wretches that must now +go down into the deeps with the moans of their +orphaned little ones in their ears; and this light +we may not use.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Because of the excise?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“For no other reason. Glasses of a new +construction would be required for the light-houses: +and this new construction is not such as +is set down in the excise laws. No glass-maker +dares venture it, and the only hope is that we +may get some foreign nation to do it for us.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Anna thought it was a poor way of serving +the king to drown his subjects, and employ +foreigners to work upon discoveries made at +home,—and all under pretence of taking care of +the money of the state.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“This is only one instance out of many,” +Durell declared. “As for what I said about +morality, I know of cheats enough to fill a jest +book.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“A jest-book!” said his wife, in a tone of +remonstrance.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Nay, my dear, it is their fault, not mine, if, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.88'>88</span>when they have sharpened wits to cheat, the +witty cheats are laughed at as good jokes. Last +year, a very good joke was spoiled. The wits +who made it laughed in their sleeves as long as +it went on; and when it came out, every body +else laughed, the excise and all, though the +crime is really as great as robbing the widow of +her mite, since the widow’s mite must go to +make up for the fraud. There is no duty on +soap in Ireland; and some cunning Englishmen, +who had made soap without paying the duty, +packed it up for Ireland, got the drawback of +28<i>l.</i> a ton, just as if they had paid the duty, and +sent it off, smuggled it back again, packed it +afresh, got the drawback again, and sent it off, +and again smuggled it back; and so on, four +times over. Now, for the idea of this cheat, for +the lies that were told, for the false oaths that +were taken in carrying it on, and for the making +a sordid crime into a joke, the excise is answerable. +And this is what the excise does for +morality.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And this is the way the money of the people +is managed,” observed Le Brocq; “wrenched +from the honest working man with one hand, +that it may be given away to the fraudulent great +trader with the other!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mrs. Durell had been well pleased at the turn +the conversation had taken, seeing that, while her +husband’s attention was occupied with matters of +detail, he resumed more and more of his usual +countenance, voice and manner. There was less +fierceness in his eye, less effort in his speech, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.89'>89</span>and he sat almost upright. But Le Brocq +spoiled all.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I cannot but wonder at you, Durell, especially +as you are a Jerseyman, that you, knowing the +system so well, should have left it to the gentlemen +to turn you out.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Wonder at me!” said Durell, after a pause, +during which he could not speak. “Wonder at +me! Why don’t you curse me and loathe me for +being an abject wretch, for the sake of my +children’s bread? I thank God for taking their +bread from them before my eyes, if it teaches +them to despise their father and their father’s +business.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, husband!” cried Mrs. Durell.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I mean what I say,” he continued, with a +forced calmness of voice and manner. “I am +going to leave them—to leave them in your +charge; and I command you to bring them up +in horror of everything that is dishonest, and +vile, and cruel; and if you bring them up to +abhor everything that is dishonest, and vile, and +cruel, you must bring them up either to forget +their father and his employments, or to despise +him for being so employed. I give you your +choice, and only pray God that I may hide myself +in my grave before either comes to pass.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Don’t listen to him. Don’t believe him,” +cried the wife, turning first to Le Brocq, and +then to Anna. “You see he is not himself; +you see he is talking like——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Like a man who is waking from a morning +dream,” said her husband, whose excited senses +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.90'>90</span>caught looks and words which were not intended +for him. “I am not drunk, Le Brocq, though +I have no right to complain if you fancy me so; +and I am not mad.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But angry,—very angry,” Anna ventured to +interpose.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Well; if I have been angry, it has nothing +to do with what I am going to say, which is +about you and yours, Le Brocq, with whom I +have no cause to be angry. I am like a man +waking from a dream; and I see many things +that I wish it had pleased God that I should see +long ago.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You cannot say you have no cause to be +angry with us,” cried Le Brocq, moved by a +sudden impulse of sensibility; “that is, with me. +Anna has always been your friend; and if my +wife has not, it is only because she has copied +me. I have doubted you all along till now; +and I am very sorry for it.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Doubted my honour?” asked Durell, bitterly.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Doubted your being the friend you professed +yourself. I thought that you might, with the +power of your office, have prevented some of the +misfortunes that have befallen us. But now I +find——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Now you find that I have been a slave, +obliged to stand by, and see those punished that +I would fain have saved. Now you find that an +exciseman must choose his friends by their trades, +if there be any trades that the curse of his employment +does not light upon. We used to think +that God has shown how friendships should arise,—shown +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.91'>91</span>it by the meeting of the eyes that +glance sympathy; and the grasp of the hands +when men find that they had the same birth-place. +But the power that has stepped in between us +has set aside God’s arrangements altogether. +You and I gathered nuts, as children, in the +same deep lanes, and played about the same +poquelaye; but as soon as I would have grasped +hands upon this, what happened? You believed +it the grasp of a traitor, and our enemies said we +were giving and taking a bribe; and between +you both, I am sunk to perdition, body and soul.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But that is all over now. Nobody will think +any more——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“It will never be over. The stain will be as +lasting as the record of my name in the creation. +When people shall see me carried to my grave, +a few days hence, they will remember how they +saw me last carried through the streets,—a brute, +lower than the lowest of all other brutes. When +they meet my wife in her weeds, they will look +into her face to see if there is not joy hidden +under it, because her torment of a husband is +gone.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Do stop him. I cannot bear it,” said Mrs. +Durell, putting her hands before her face.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You will bear it very well, my dear. It is +true, you will have no bread to give your children; +and when you beg it, people will stop to consider +whether they ought to help the children of the +dissolute exciseman; but all this will not set +against the relief of having got rid of the wretch +himself. Ah! you don’t think so now, because +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.92'>92</span>you pity me, as you would pity a sickly child;—you +pity me for sitting drooping here, with a +perishing carcase and a worn-out spirit. But I +don’t want your pity. I won’t be treated like a +child—I say——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>He rose from his chair, and took a few strides +towards his wife, evidently in a state of delirium. +The urgency of the occasion seemed to inspire +Le Brocq with the very sentiment which suited +the moment.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I say, Mr. Durell,” said he, “no man likes +being made a child of; and I like it no better +than other men; so I am going back,——come, +you had better sit down again; take my arm;——I +am going back to Jersey. Have you any +messages for your old friends there?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“To Jersey: ay; you are right there, Le +Brocq. That was what I was going to say. +Don’t stay here, where there is more misery +caused by mere paying taxes than there is in +Jersey by all God’s dark providences together. +Go and tell them, whatever they do,” he continued, +settling himself in his chair again,——“tell +them, whatever they do, not to dare, for +the sake of raising money for the state, to crush +the simple and high-minded, and exalt the mean +and crafty——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ay; Studley! How that fellow is flourishing +at the expense of us all!” cried Le Brocq.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Anna marked the flashing of Durell’s eyes at +the name, and interposed.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“We shall soon be settled in our farm again, +Mr. Durell; and perhaps you will be well enough +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.93'>93</span>to come and see us by the time we begin shaking +the trees in the orchard.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Shaking the trees in the orchard,” repeated +Durell slowly, as if the words revived some +intensely pleasurable recollections.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Your old friends were very sorry when you +went away, and they will be heartily glad to +hear you are coming back. You will come and +see us, Mr. Durell.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Come, my dear! ay; that I will,—in body +or in spirit. I will be at your apple-cropping. +I will pelt you with apples; and if you cannot +see where they come from, remember who promised +you this. I will echo you when you go to +call home your cows. I will rustle in the ivy +when you pass the Holy Oak;—(that old oak is +the first place I shall go to.) I will walk round +and round you as you sit on the poquelaye; and +if you feel a sudden breath of air upon your face, +remember who it was that said he would haunt +you. God will hear my prayer, and let me see +Jersey again, whether I die first or not.—Jack! +Come here, Jack!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>His feeble voice could not make itself heard +further than half across the room; but Jack +came in from the kitchen, in answer to Le Brocq’s +effectual call. His father desired him to bring +down the flute from the book-shelves; and his +manner of obeying,—as if he was by no means +sure whether he had to do with his father or with +a ghost,—did not help to recover Anna from the +chilly fit into which she had been thrown by +Durell’s promises. She did not think she could +ever go out to call home the cows, or pass the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.94'>94</span>Holy Oak or the poquelaye. She had never +feared Durell till this night; but he was strangely +altered; and she thought that the impression of +this night would be stronger than that of all her +previous acquaintance with him.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Stand here, boy; don’t go away,” said Durell +to Jack, who was most unwillingly pinned between +his father’s knees to hear the flute. Durell +began an air which is sung by the common people +in Jersey every day of the year; but his breath +failed him directly; and he allowed the instrument +to be taken from him.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Then I may go,” said Jack, gently struggling +to escape.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Yes, my dear,” said his mother. “Your +father is tired now; he has done enough for this +evening.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“No, no,” said Durell. “I must tell him what +he is to see at home. I must tell him what little +boys do in Jersey. When I was your age, Jack——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“To-morrow, love,” said his wife. “You can +tell him <a id='corr3.94.22'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='to morrow'>to-morrow</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_3.94.22'><ins class='correction'>to-morrow</ins></a></span>.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I should like to hear what boys do in Jersey,” +declared Jack, his confidence returning.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And so you shall, my boy. Sit still, Le +Brocq. I shall want you to help me. When I +was your age. Jack——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>And then he proceeded to tell how in his childhood +he went out through thickets of the blue +hydrangea to the dells where he spent the whole +day in birds’ nesting; and of the hatfull of wild +flowers that he treated himself with before he +began to climb the trees whose ivy was his ladder. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.95'>95</span>Not two minutes after he had soothed himself +into a state of calmness by these recollections, +he began to speak indistinctly, and to appear +drowsy. Jack was admonished by gesture not +to ask for any thing over again; not to be impatient +for what was to come next. This was a +hard admonition; and when his father sank back +asleep, and he was gently withdrawn from between +the knees which no longer held him, the +poor boy was quietly weeping at having to wait +for the rest of the story. Not even his mother +suspected how long he would have to wait.</p> + +<p class='c001'>The Le Brocqs stole away. Jack was put +quietly out of the room. Mrs. Durell hung a +shade upon the lamp, fed the fire with the least +possible noise, and sat down with her work +opposite her husband, trusting that he was dreaming +of the meads and coves of his native island, +and that he would thus sleep on till morning. +Long before morning, she had discovered that +he would wake no more. The Le Brocqs were +called up early by Stephen to be told that they +had heard the very last words of him who had +died of a broken heart.</p> + +<p class='c001'>It was a great blessing that his last words were +words of peace. There was no need for Anna +to implore little Jack to treasure up what his +father was saying when he fell asleep. When +Jack was grown up into a man, it was still a +matter of mourning to him that he had not heard +the whole of what his father had to tell about +birds’ nesting in the dells of Jersey.</p> + +<div> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_4.96'>96</span> + <h3 id='ch4.6' class='c016'><span class='sc'>Chapter VI.</span><br> <br>THE LAND OF SIGNALS.</h3> +</div> + +<p class='c017'>The Le Brocqs were more anxious than ever to +leave London when they had seen their friendly +countryman laid in the ground. In order to +repay himself as far as he could for the troubles +he had incurred in business, Le Brocq determined +to carry with him to Jersey as much as he could +convey of his manufactured article. The cider-makers +of the islands would be very glad of his +bottles, he knew, if he could sell them cheap +enough; and he believed he could sell them +cheap, and yet secure a profit by obtaining the +drawback on exportation allowed by law. After +all the experience he had had of the duty-paying +in England, it still did not occur to him that +there might be difficulty in recovering the duty +which the law professed to restore. Nothing can +be more evident than that when a tax is imposed +on the consumption of any article, and is advanced +by the maker of the article, the maker +should be repaid what he has advanced when the +article goes to be consumed by the people of +another empire, or by those in some other part +of the same empire who may be particularly +exempted from the payment of the duty. Le +Brocq imagined that all he should have to do +would be to show how much duty he had paid +upon the ware he wished to export, and to receive +the sum back again. He even speculated on +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.97'>97</span>whether the government would allow him interest +on the money he had advanced. He considered +it his due; but he would not delay his departure +on account of any disagreement of this kind. +He would not put off till another day the conclusion +of a business which he supposed might +be transacted in ten minutes. He little thought +that the keenest and most practised exporter +would laugh as much at the idea of finishing the +affair in a few minutes as at that of receiving +interest for the duty advanced. It might be that +because he was discovered to be a novice, he +was more strictly dealt with than those who are +acquainted with the regulations of the excise and +customs; but he found himself much mistaken +in his calculations. It is not for the benefit of +the king’s interests, or for the credit of his +service, that practised persons are comparatively +little watched, while novices are well nigh persecuted +under the perplexing system of the excise +and customs. It is unjust and injurious, but +perfectly natural;—natural, because no human +patience, industry, and vigilance can be expected +to be always equal to the disgusting labour of +spying and detecting. It is natural that those +who have been made fully aware of the dangers +they incur by fraud should be left under the influence +of fear to swear truly and pay duly, +though unexamined. Honour is a word out of +use upon these occasions; or is employed merely +as a word. Fear is the influence to which his +majesty’s officers trust, when they leave a practised +trader to declare his own claims and responsibilities, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.98'>98</span>and show how he wishes his business to be +managed. Fear is the influence they invoke +when they impress the inexperienced with awe, +or worry him out of his temper, with a view to +saving themselves future trouble. Fear is the +influence above all unfavourable to the interests +of a king, and the security of a government; +and that which should be used, not for the levying +of its support, but only for the deterring of +its subjects from crime, against which all other +precautions had previously been taken.</p> + +<p class='c001'>The officers succeeded in inspiring the Jerseyman +with fear, insomuch that he presently +doubted whether he could at last get away without +leaving his bottles behind. While others, +happier than he, paid down small sums with one +hand, and received larger with the other, after +gabbling over oaths which none but the initiated +could understand, and witnessing certain entries +made on their own declaration, Le Brocq had a +much longer ceremony to go through. He had +to swear that the bottles he wished to export +were none of them under the weight of three +ounces; that he had given due notice to the +officer of excise of his intention to ship his +wares; that the contents of the package corresponded +with the document signed by the excise +officer; that they were all marked with an E X; +that none were broken; that none had been used; +that no prohibited article was in the package; +that the wares were packed according to law, +without vacant spaces or other improprieties; +that they were believed to be entirely of English +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.99'>99</span>manufacture, and that they had paid duty; and +so on. He was next told, as a friendly warning, +that if the package was not properly prepared +for sealing, (<i>i. e.</i> with a hollow scooped out for +the purpose,) the goods would be forfeited: if +any brand or mark was erased, the goods would +be forfeited, and the offender would be fined +200<i>l.</i>: if the package was not on board within +twelve hours from the time of branding or sealing, +it would be forfeited; and so on. Moreover, +the searcher had power to open and examine +the package; and if it was found that the exporter +was not correct in every tittle of what he +had sworn, he would be indicted for perjury. Le +Brocq had as much horror of a false oath as any +man; but he now felt how easily a timid or a +hasty man might be tempted into one, for the +sake of escaping as soon and as easily as possible +from the inquisition of the excise. He felt the +strength of the temptation to a trader to swear +to the legal preparation of a box, the packing of +which he had not superintended.</p> + +<p class='c001'>In the next place, he found that, so far from +obtaining interest upon the duty he had advanced, +he must be at some expense to recover the +drawback. The debenture, or certificate of the +customs officer that he would be entitled to the +drawback, is on a ten-shilling stamp; and he +who would recover the amount of one tax could +do it only by paying another. To recover an +excise tax, he must pay a stamp tax. The dismay +of the Jerseyman, thus haunted by taxes to +the last, was highly amusing to a fellow-sufferer +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.100'>100</span>who stood by, and who proclaimed his own worse +fate. He was receiving back the duty upon four +packages of goods, and each debenture cost him +11<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i>; making 2<i>l.</i> 7<i>s.</i> the cost of recovering +10<i>l.</i> But this was not the last discovery that +Le Brocq had to make.</p> + +<p class='c001'>It appeared finally that, as the goods were intended +for the Channel islands, the drawback +could not be allowed till a certificate of the +landing of the goods could be produced, signed +by the collector and comptroller of the customs +on the island where the ware was landed. Le +Brocq was not the less disconcerted by this news +for its being made evident to him that such an +arrangement is necessary under a system of taxation +by excise and customs. It was clear, as +he acknowledged, that without such a precaution, +the drawback might be obtained upon goods +which were not really destined for the Channel +islands: but the arrangement did not the less interfere +with his private convenience.</p> + +<p class='c001'>What was to be done now? He had no inclination +to leave the goods, or to forego the +drawback; and there was no one here to whom +he could commit his affairs. After a long consultation +at home, it was agreed that Le Brocq +should, after all, stay till cousin Anthony, or +instructions from him, should arrive; and that +Mrs. Le Brocq and Anna should proceed to the +islands, conducting and conducted by Stephen. +Stephen was not exactly the kind of escort that +the family would have thought of accepting, +some time before: but circumstances were now +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.101'>101</span>changed. He could guide them to Aaron: he +could secure for them, by ways and means of his +own, a remarkably cheap passage. He was now +adrift, there being no longer a home for him at +Mrs. Durell’s; and he promised, for his own sake +as well as that of his companions, to make the +most, instead of the least, of such sight as he had +left. As he could not expect to meet with another +Durell to house and cherish him, it was his +interest to find his way back to his old comrades, +and see what they could do for him. While +offering his parting thanks and blessing to Mrs. +Durell, he intimated to her that, though he could +not see to write, she should hear from him in a +way which he hoped would be acceptable;—an +intimation which she received with about the +same degree of belief that she had been accustomed +to give to the protestations of others of +her husband’s protégés.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mild were the airs, and cloudless was the sky +when the vessel which conveyed the Le Brocqs +and their escort drew near the Swinge of Alderney, +and when the Channel islands rose to view, +one after another, from the sunny sea. The +stupendous wall of rock which seems to forbid +the stranger to dream of exploring Alderney, +rose on the left; the little russet island of Berhou +on the right; and, beyond it, the white towers of +the three Casket lighthouses, each on its rock, +and all gleaming in the sunset, rose upon Anna’s +heart as well as upon her eye. To her surprise, +she met with sympathy.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“’Tis not often,” said Stephen, “that I care +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.102'>102</span>about storm or calm. Wind and weather may +take their own course for me. But I had a +choice for this evening. I wished for a wind +that would bring us here before sunset, and for +a sky that would let the sun shine.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You see those white towers,” said Anna, +who perceived that he twinkled and strained his +eyes in that direction.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“See them! yes, indeed,” said Mrs. Le Brocq. +“Those must be stone blind that do not get +dazzled with all that glare. I like Jersey, with +the green ivy hanging from the rock over the +sea. I want to be at Jersey, with my Louise.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“All in good time, ma’am,” said Stephen. +“We must land somewhere else first, and find +your Aaron. How like ghosts they stand!” he +continued, still looking towards the Caskets. +“And one taller than the rest.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You see that too,” said Anna. “Then I am +sure you must see Berhou. We are coming +nearer every moment. Hark to the splashing +in the Swinge!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ay, ay; I’ll listen with the best,” said Stephen. +“And I can see something in the Swinge, +though the dark island is all one with the sea +to me.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Which dark island? And what do you see in +the Swinge?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Berhou has nothing to mark it to my eye. I +can just trace out Alderney against the sky; but +the something white that is leaping and gleaming +there, I take to be the foam of the waters in the +Swinge. Ah! here we go!”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_4.103'>103</span>While the vessel pitched and rolled, and took +her zigzag course, as if spontaneously, between +the black points of rock which showed themselves +above the white billows, and seemed to tell +of a hundred dangers as formidable as themselves, +Anna was sorry for him who, either physically or +intellectually blind, could see nothing in Berhou. +Neither man nor child was visible; no human habitation; +no boat upon the strip of beach which +the rocks and the sea spared between them; but +the grey gull sat, spreading its wings for flight, +and the stormy petrel, rarely met within sight of +land, were here perceived to lose the mystery +of their existence. While Anna observed them +going forth and returning, and hovering over the +fissures of the rock in which they make their +homes, she found that Mother Carey’s chickens +are probably hatched from the egg, like other +birds, and not wafted from the moon, or floated +from the sea depths,—the especial favourites of +some unseen power. The slopes of down which +showed themselves in the partings of the rocks, +looked green in contrast with whatever surrounded +them; though no hand of man brightened +their verdure, and they were not even trodden by +any foot but those of the wild animals who had +the region to themselves. While she was thus +gazing, and her mother would look at nothing because +it was not Jersey, the master and one or +two of his crew seemed to be watching the coast +of the other island in the intervals of their extreme +care to obviate the perils of the passage +through the strait. At this moment, a breath of +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.104'>104</span>air brought the faint sound of chiming bells from +Alderney. Stephen instantly turned to listen, +and waited patiently till it came again, and Anna +was sure that it was wafted from a church-steeple, +and not from any region of fancy.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Master,” said Stephen, “you will not be +able to land us in Alderney to-night, I am +afraid.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The master was just going to advise the party +to proceed to Guernsey. The state of the tide +was such that he could not engage to set any +one on shore in Alderney. The party had better +go on to Guernsey.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“The vraicking season begins to-morrow, +master. You have no mind to lose all your passengers +that might like to stay and see the +vraicking. Well; that is fair enough. But we +cannot go on to Guernsey, having no call there. +You may set us ashore on Berhou.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The master supposed he meant some other place. +The honey-bees and the rabbits might make out a +good night’s rest in Berhou, but there were no +lodgings for Christians. Stephen knew better; and +knew, moreover, that the master might feel well +enough pleased at being spared performing his +promise as to Alderney, to land the party, without +objection, in a more practicable place. This +was true. The master had not the least objection +to their supping with the rabbits, and sleeping +among the sea-fowl, if they chose. Moreover, +if they found themselves starving by the +time he came back that way, he would toss them +some biscuit, if they would only hoist a flag of +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.105'>105</span>distress. Stephen did not care a whit for the +master’s mockery of his plans, or for Mrs. Le +Brocq’s complaints at being landed any where so +far from her Louise. He showed so much respect +to Anna’s doubtful looks and words as +to assure her that he knew what he was about, +and that no delay would arise from his choice of +an uninhabited island for a temporary resting +place. Anna had no choice but to trust him; +but a feeling of forlornness came over her when, +having landed the old lady, and seated her on the +sands to recover her breath and dry her tears, she +and Stephen stood to see the vessel recede in the +strait, and at length enter the open sea beyond, +leaving them out of reach of human voice and +help.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Could that bell be heard here from Alderney +if the sea was quiet?” she asked.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I dare say it might; but this sea is never +quiet,” he replied. “Day and night, summer +and winter, it plunges and boils as you see. You +are thinking that the sound of a church-bell +would be cheering in this solitude; but yonder +bell keeps its music for the folks on its own +island; and a merry set they will be to-night on +the south side, watching the tide going down +towards morning, that they may begin the vraicking.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And what are we to do next?” asked Anna, +with a touch of the doleful in her voice which +seemed to amuse Stephen.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Catch Mother Carey’s chickens, and run +after rabbits, to be sure. You know there is nothing +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.106'>106</span>else to live upon here. We shall have +a merry life of it, shall not we?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I wish you would answer me, Stephen. My +mother cannot bear joking. What are we to do +next?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You must watch for the lighting of the +Caskets, and eat a biscuit in the meantime.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>It was a comfort that some biscuits were +secured; for Mrs. Le Brocq was never wholly +miserable while eating, whatever she might be before +and after. The sun was fast sinking behind +the Caskets, so that it could not be long before +their now dark towers would be crowned with +a yellow gleam, and more of Stephen’s little plot +would be unravelled. Anna suggested that if +they had to go any where to look for a boat or a +lodging, it would be better to move before twilight +came on. She concluded they were not to sit +here on a stone all night, looking at Alderney. +Stephen begged pardon. He knew every step of the +way so well that he had forgotten how much more +important daylight was to his companions than to +him. He rose from the vetch-strewn sand where +he had laid himself at ease, loaded himself with +what he could conveniently carry of the family +luggage, saying that the rest might remain where +it was, as there was no chance of rain before +morning, and set forward over the heathery +waste.</p> + +<p class='c001'>This was the first ground the party had trodden +since they left London; and even Mrs. Le Brocq +observed the difference between Lambeth pavement +and the turf on which they were now walking, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.107'>107</span>matted with fragrant heath, with patches +between of blossoming thyme. Little white-tailed +rabbits trotted in all directions to their +burrows; and swarms of the celebrated honey-bee +(called the leaf-cutter, from its hanging its cell +in the sands with rose-leaf curtains) hovered and +hummed over the thyme-beds and the briar-rose +bush which was now closing its blossoms from +the honey-searcher. The dash and roar of the +strait were left behind, and the deepest silence +succeeded. None of the party spoke while they +proceeded with noiseless steps, Stephen leading +the way, with his staff for his protection. He +would go first and alone, lest he should lose his +way by relaxing his attention. At last, his step +slackened, and he felt the ground about him.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Is there a bit of grey rock hereabouts, like +a sofa?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“There is a stone seat that you might fancy +like a sofa, twelve yards from your right hand.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Give me your arm round to the other side of +it. There! now there is a path downwards, +almost from your feet, is not there?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Yes; a very steep path,—difficult to get +down, I should think. The honeysuckles are +like a hedge on either side. You smell the +honeysuckles?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“It was the honeysuckles that guided me, +after we had half crossed the heath. You were +too busy with the thyme to attend to them, I +dare say; but the honeysuckles were what I was +on the look-out for. If we have to go to Serk, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.108'>108</span>you will find the air as sweet as Paradise with +them.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Why should we go to Serk?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I may be able to tell you within an hour or +two, or we may have to wait till morning. In +the last case, I know of a snug cave where we +will light a fire with a little of yonder furze; and +it will be odd if we do not fall in with something +good to eat and drink, and something soft to +sleep upon.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I sleep in a cave!” exclaimed Mrs. Le +Brocq. “I cannot do any such thing. I never +slept in a cave in my life.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“If you see any place that you like better, I +am sure I am very glad,” replied Stephen. +“Yonder sofa would not be a bad place on a soft +summer’s night. Only, a brood of Mother Carey’s +chickens might chance to flap their wings about +you and startle you; or, if you woke, you might +happen to find yourself in the middle of a circle +of strangers, all smoking their pipes; and then +you might wish yourself down with me in the +cave. If you look round, ma’am, you will see +no blue roofs in all the island,—unless they have +altered it since I knew it.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mrs. Le Brocq shuddered as she said that it +was too dark to see blue roofs or any thing else.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And there are the Casket lights,” cried +Anna. “Only two! yes; there is the third. +Look, mother! like three red stars.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Now,” said Stephen, “one of you must be +so good as to help me down this path,—just to +the turning.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_4.109'>109</span>Anna guided him, her mother calling out all +the way, that they must not go far: she did not +choose to be left alone.</p> + +<p class='c001'>While they were for a few minutes out of +sight, she had recourse to her prayers, finding +herself in too strong a panic for tears. Those +nasty birds would come and pick out first her +eyes and then Anna’s; and then they two would +be more blind than Stephen, and could never get +away; and their bones would lie stark and stiff +on the cold ground. Before she had done praying +that she might live to die in her bed, her +companions re-appeared, to save her eyes for the +present from the birds.</p> + +<p class='c001'>When Stephen and Anna had reached the +first turn of the winding path, he desired to +know what was to be seen beneath. “Scarcely +anything,” replied Anna. “Between the Casket +lights and these rocks, there is nothing but the +dark grey sea.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And nothing under these rocks?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Only a little patch of sand, with nothing +upon it; and the white birds sailing out and in. +Not a boat on the sea, nor a living person on the +land! What a place to bring us to, Stephen!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Not a living person on the land! Do you +suppose there are any dead, Miss Anna? Do +you see any white skeletons among the dark +rocks?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“The place gives one as horrible an idea as +any you can speak,” Anna replied. “This is a +place where a poor wretch may be cast ashore, +and drag himself up out of sea-reach, and mark +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.110'>110</span>the sun set thrice while he is pining with hunger +and cannot die, and beholding land far off where he +cannot make himself seen or heard, till all is one +dark cloud before his dying eyes, and his last +terrors seize him, and there is no one to take his +hand, and speak the word that would calm his +spirit. O, Stephen, what a place to bring my +mother and me to!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ay, is not it? You are making up your mind +to die here, I see. Come; this is all I have to +show you yet. We may go up to the sofa again, +and see whether your mother is dreaming about +dead men’s bones, or crying because she cannot +get away.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Anna was not disposed to make any answer. +She led the way back in silence, and said no +more to her mother than to remind her that remonstrance +was in vain. Nothing could well be +more cheerless than the companionship of the +party for the next half hour, while the stars were +piercing the heaven, and the sea-birds dropping +into the caverns below, and the night breeze going +forth on its course, and whispering the rocks +which stood as sentries over the restless tide. +Mrs. Le Brocq sat bolt upright on the stone +sofa; Stephen lay down on the turf, as if to sleep; +and Anna walked backwards and forwards, harassed +by uneasy thoughts. At the same instant, +she stopped in her pacing, and Stephen half +raised his head, as a watch-dog does at any sound +brought by the night wind.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What is it?” asked Anna.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Probably her half-breathed question did not +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.111'>111</span>reach Stephen; for he yawned, and laid himself +down as before. Anna could only suppose that she +had heard nothing. There was no use in asking +her mother; for she must doubtless be fully occupied +with the noise in her head, of which she +complained at all times, and especially when +under any sort of agitation.</p> + +<p class='c001'>In ten minutes more, Stephen jumped up, +saying briskly,</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Now, Miss Anna, I must trouble you once +more.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“To do what, Mr. Stephen?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“To prevent my being lost in the honeysuckles, +that is all.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>With some unwillingness, Anna again made +herself his guide down the path. When she +reached the turn, she stifled an exclamation of +astonishment.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Out with it, Miss Anna!” said Stephen. +“You see none but friends. What are they +doing below?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“They have set up a boat sideways, to prevent +the fire being blown out; or, perhaps, to +hinder its being seen from the sea. What a fire +they are making! and every man has his pipe.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“As is fitting for those that help so many to +a pipe which they could not otherwise get. How +many are there? Do you see any face that you +know?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I can scarcely tell yet. The light flickers +so! One—two—there are five, I think. O, +Stephen!—it never can be,—yes, it is,—Mr. +Prince, the shopkeeper at St. Peter’s, that—”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_4.112'>112</span>“Why should not it be Mr. Prince? The +shopkeepers are as likely a set of men to be out +on a vraicking eve as any. Is he the only one +you know?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Yes. I see all their faces now. There is +no other that I have ever known, I think. How +very odd it is to see Mr. Prince look just as he +used to do when he stood smiling behind his own +counter!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“He smiles, does he? Well; I hope you +ladies will not be afraid to trust yourselves with +Mr. Prince; I have no doubt he will be proud to +take care of you back.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“To St. Peter’s! But we do not want to go to +St. Peter’s. Stephen, I believe we shall never +make you understand how much we wish to get +back to Jersey. I wonder you can trifle with us +so.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Have patience,” said Stephen. “You well +know that there is one thing that you desire even +more than to get back to Jersey.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“About Aaron. There he is! behind the +boat!” cried she, passing Stephen, and flying +down the steep pathway, as if she had thought it +possible for Aaron now to escape her by running +into the sea. Aaron had no wish to flee away. +Before his sister had made her way through his +companions, he had opened his arms to her; and +he had no less pleasure in the meeting than +herself.</p> + +<p class='c001'>He was all surprise at finding Anna apparently +alone on a desert island; and she that +he was not expecting her. He knew that his +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.113'>113</span>family meant soon to return to their farm; but +he would as soon have expected to meet the +queen of England in the wilds of Berhou as his +sister Anna.</p> + +<p class='c001'>His mother there too!—And his father also? +he inquired with an altered voice. His father +not being of the party, he became extremely +impatient to join his mother.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“That is the way by which I came down,” +Anna explained. “There,—by yonder little +opening. Let me show you. And poor Stephen: +I forgot him;—he is there; and he can neither +get up nor down by himself, and I left him alone. +O, Aaron, how could you go away as you did?” +And all the way up the ascent, Aaron had to +justify himself for going away as he did. He +scarcely paused a moment to greet Stephen; but +ran on to find Mrs. Le Brocq. When the first +tears and exclamations were over, the question +was heard again,</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Aaron, how could you go away as you did?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Why, mother, is not being here much better +than drudging on the tread-wheel, or even than +doing nothing in a prison? I tell you, mother, +if you did but know the pleasant sort of life I +have been leading lately——Well; if that won’t +do, let me tell you that it makes me so merry to +see you and Anna standing here,—so free, and +so far out of the reach of such fellows as Studley,—that +I could find in my heart to whiff away +all laws like the smoke from one of those tobacco-pipes.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Anna thought that the use of laws was to enable +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.114'>114</span>people to stand free, and out of the reach of +knaves and revengeful men.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“To be sure, such ought to be the purpose of +laws; but is such the purpose and effect of the +excise laws? Nobody knows better than I, and +the other men below there, that the raising money +for the state is necessary for the security and +quiet of the people; but if the money is so raised +as to spoil their security and quiet, who is not +tempted to wish the laws at the devil, and let the +state take its chance for money? It is a fine +thing for us to be here, at any rate, under this +open sky, and with plenty of meat and drink +below. Come, mother; we will have a good +supper to-night, without asking the king’s will +about what we shall have, or paying for his leave +to enjoy one thing rather than another. We +have plenty of vraicking cakes from Alderney, +and some fine French wine to drink with them.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, Mr. Stephen,” cried Mrs. Le Brocq, “we +are much obliged to you for bringing us here. +Here is Aaron so free and happy! and vraicking +cakes, and French wine! We are much obliged +to you, Mr. Stephen.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Yes, we are indeed,” said Anna, heartily. +“I beg your pardon, I am sure, for doubting +what you were doing for us. But it did seem +very forlorn. How well and merry Aaron looks, +to be sure! If we were but certain it was all +right!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“How can it be wrong when we are all as +merry as children let out of school?” Stephen +asked. “I found out your evil thoughts of me, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.115'>115</span>Miss Anna; but now, perhaps, you will trust me +another time. I may chance to hear more in a +church-bell than the news that the vraicking +begins to-morrow.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Was it that bell that told you that Aaron +would be here to-night? I never thought of +that. I never could have guessed it.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I dare say not. Some people that have +more interest in such matters than you, are no +more aware than you of the sly little markets +that are held in many a cove and cavern, when +an oyster-fishing or a vraicking gives opportunity +for many boats to meet together. Such a bell as +that we heard in Alderney is a signal to more +ears than it is intended for; and lights like those” +(pointing towards the Caskets) “serve many +eyes for a dial, to show the hour of meeting. +Aaron, are there many foreigners off the islands +just now?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Above fifty small sail of French off Guernsey +this morning. The Guernsey folks are fine customers +to the French now; which is no little +help to our business. We can get anything to +order; and when by chance other things fail, +there is always corn and wine for the boldest of +us to carry; and I, for one, have never had to +wait for a port to get them into.——But come; +there will be no supper left if we do not make +haste down. We jumped ashore with fine appetites, +and I would not trust any body with a +cooked supper, after such a pull as we have had +to-day. Besides, we have not overmuch time, +for we must be off Little Serk before the first +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.116'>116</span>farmer is up and overlooking the sea. We have +a private errand there.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And you are going to leave us—all alone!” +exclaimed Mrs. Le Brocq.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Not if you wish to go with us, mother. At +Little Serk you will be all the nearer Jersey, you +know. We will take good care of you. Come, +Anna; you are not afraid of supping with my +partners, are you?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, no; and yet, if anybody had told me——But +they do not look at all wild and terrible, as +I thought people did when they broke the laws.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“It depends much on what sort of people +break the laws,” observed Stephen; “and that +again depends on what sort of laws they are that +are broken. When it is not the violent and cruel, +but such people as thrifty shop-keepers——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I cannot help laughing,” said Anna, “to +think of Mr. Prince. I am sure nobody could +ever dream of being afraid of him. Mother, will +you come down, and speak to Mr. Prince, and +have some supper?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And he will tell us the best plan for getting +to Jersey, I dare say. I wonder whether he has +been in the way of hearing anything of Louise +lately?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The old lady made little difficulty about the +descent; and she and her daughter were presently +so far demoralized as to be supping with +a company of smugglers, almost as comfortably +as if they had been honest men.</p> + +<div> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_4.117'>117</span> + <h3 id='ch4.7' class='c016'><span class='sc'>Chapter VII.</span><br> <br>WELCOME TO SUPPER.</h3> +</div> + +<p class='c017'>The party was off Little Serk, as Aaron willed, +before the first farmer was abroad on the upland +to overlook the gleamy sea. Two of the company +had hastened over the heath, while the +others were at supper, to bring the larger packages +which had been left behind; and all had +put off beneath the moon some time before midnight. +Mr. Prince had found a little leisure for +being civil to his former customers, though he +had much to do, as well as his companions, in +stowing in one of the caverns the goods he had +brought from France, and loading the boat with +the packages deposited there by some friendly +vraickers and lobster-fishers.</p> + +<p class='c001'>It was not that in these islands any danger +attended traffic of any kind; except in the one +article of spirits which had not paid duty. There +were here no guards patrolling the sands, or +perched upon the steep, to look for thieves in +every bark that cleaved the blue expanse, and +anticipate murder when the twilight spread its +shadows. There were here no questionable +abodes,—spy-stations,—niched in places convenient +for overlooking the traffic of housewifes +with the fishermen who furnished their tables. +Here there were no deadly struggles in the darkness, +the comrade going down in deep waters, +with the bitter consciousness that he was thrown +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.118'>118</span>overboard lest his wounds should lead his companions +into danger; or left unclaimed upon the +beach, while wife or parents are secretly mourning, +and longing to give the exposed body the +respectful burial which strangers will not yield. +No such extraordinary arrangements deform the +simplicity and mar the peace of the society of +these islands; but, while the coasts of France and +England cannot enjoy the same freedom, the +islanders are tempted to share in the frauds and +the perils of their neighbours. Not content with +having corn, wine, and tobacco at their natural +cost of production and carriage, they are willing +to help others to the same privilege; and will +continue to be so willing as long as, by their +office of go-between, they can make a profit by +the bad legislation of the two kingdoms within +whose embrace they lie. There is no remedy +for this but rectifying the faults of French and +English commercial legislation. As long as +taxes are levied by raising the prices of necessary +articles so high as to make smuggling profitable, +the island boats will steal along the shores, or +cautiously cross the straits on the dishonest +errands of a mediator between two defrauders; +they will land their passengers short of their +point, because they have something besides passengers +on board; they will make a show of lobsters +to hide tea and tobacco. To impose restraints +on them, similar to those by which they now +profit in pocket and suffer in morals, would only +increase the evil by enlarging the field of temptation, +and adding the demand of the islands to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.119'>119</span>that of the two neighbouring coasts. There is no +remedy but in putting all on an equality, not of +restraint, but of freedom.</p> + +<p class='c001'>The lord of Serk and his people had not yet +opened their eyes on the morning sunshine, when +the boat containing Aaron and his party ran +under the perpendicular rocks of the island, and +several voices announced that they had arrived at +their destination. No landing-place was visible; +but the women had by this time become inured +to wonders, and resigned to whatever of romantic +might come in their way. They asked no questions, +even when their boat grated against the +rock, and moved uneasily in the ripple without +being intended to make any progress. They +made no objection when desired to lay hold of a +rope which dangled from a ledge thirty feet above +their heads; and quietly submitted to be hauled +up they knew not whither. Up and down, forward +and round-about they went, now seeing a +cask taken up from a store-cavern, now dropping +a message in a lonely cottage; and at last sitting +down to repose in a cavern which was lighted +only from a natural opening at the top, upon +which the blue sky seemed to rest as a roof. +Here the echoes were already awake with the +blows of the mattock and the grating of the saw. +Here boat-building went on, early and late; for +a certain Englishman had found out how well +the islanders are off for timber,—the best of timber, +which pays no duty; and many a good +bargain he made by going forth in a worn-out +vessel, and coming home in a boat of Serk workmanship. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.120'>120</span>Aaron was right in supposing that +here he should pick up the means of conveying +his mother and sister home with their heavy +wares. Here he insisted on their resting, after +their many fatigues and long watching; but it +was not that he might himself repose. He had +still a little trip to make.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“My dear, you will be tired to death,” said +his mother. “I never knew you work all night +in Jersey.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Aaron laughed, and said that people are seldom +tired to death when they work at no bidding but +their own: and, as for working at night——</p> + +<p class='c001'>“It is a bad practice, Aaron, depend upon it,” +said his sister. “Honest work is done by daylight.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Carry your objections to those who taught +me to work at night,” answered Aaron. “And +not me only, but hundreds more. They are but +few who would naturally work when their part of +the world is supposed to be asleep;—the nurse +beside the sick-bed, and the watchmen that walk +the streets of cities; the beacon-keeper that trims +the lamps in his high tower, and the helmsman +that fixes his eyes upon those lights far out at +sea. All but these are supposed to be at rest +when God has set his stars for night-lamps, and +drawn the darkness about us for a curtain: but +there are some who contradict his decree that +night is the time for rest;—and they are such as +make harsh and unjust laws.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But for laws,” said Anna, nearly as she had +said before, “we might be subject to the robber +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.121'>121</span>by night, and the violent man by day. Without +laws, none of us could lie down and sleep in +peace.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Without some wholesome laws: but, if it +were not for certain unwise and cruel laws, thousands +more of us would lie down and sleep in +peace. Ask the country justice in England, +whose business it is to enforce the laws, how +often it happens that labourers who cannot get +work during the day because their superiors +have a monopoly of bread, toil unlawfully all the +night because their superiors have a monopoly of +game. He may dispute the wickedness; but he +will not deny what comes of digging pitfalls for +men, lest they should set springes for birds. Ask,—(nobody +could have told better than poor +Durell)—ask any exciseman what time is chosen +by certain traders for their traffic, and makers for +their work; and he will tell you of the burning, +and the boiling, and the distilling, and the packing +and removing that take place by night. He will +tell you that the noblest works that men can do, +and that they ought to do proudly in the daylight, +are done by night, because the law has +fixed a sin and a shame upon them. To make +improvements in human comfort is turned into a +sin and shame, when those improvements are +made too expensive by a tax; therefore they are +tried by night. The exchange of the fruits of +men’s labour is made a sin and a shame, when a +tax comes in to make such an exchange unprofitable: +therefore it is done by night. These innocent +things being made a sin and a shame is the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.122'>122</span>reason why tax-gatherers prowl about, like so +many robbers, when the sun is down; and why +the better men whom they entrap are carried to +prison in the morning, to come out blasted and +desperate, as if they had committed a crime +against God’s majesty instead of against the +king’s treasury.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mrs. Le Brocq stared in astonishment at her +son. With a little hesitation, she asked him +whether he had not adopted a new vocation, and +turned preacher. The kindness of his manner +to her, and the eloquence of his speech, concurred +to impress her with the idea. He smiled as he +answered, that there would be no lack of preachers +or of eloquence upon this subject, if every one +who had suffered were allowed to bear witness. +A voice would rise up from all the land, and go +forth over the sea, if every Briton who is injured +by the mode in which he is obliged to +pay his contribution to the state, might speak +his mind.</p> + +<p class='c001'>But still,—Aaron talked so differently from +what he used to do,—so freely,—so cleverly.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“There is all the difference in the world, +mother, between——But I do not wish to say +anything disrespectful of my father: so I will +only mention that the reason why it is found to +be prudent for governments to allow people to +speak out, is because nothing makes men more +eloquent than a sense of wrong; and the stronger +the eloquence that is suppressed, the more doggedly +will the sense of wrong show itself in some +other way. A whole nation can mutter and be +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.123'>123</span>sullen, as I used to be; and its muttering and +sullenness may prove of more importance than +mine. Now I have got an occupation of my own, +and am under nobody’s management, I could +preach (as you would say) very strongly both to +parents and governments about not being spies +and meddlers,—that is to say,” (recollecting his +father) “about not interfering more than is +pleasant with the doings of their children and +subjects. To make wise and merciful general +laws, and then leave the will and actions free in +particular instances, is the only true policy,—the +only kind of government which is not in its nature +tyranny.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But how do you apply that to the paying of +taxes?” inquired Stephen. “How is the state to +raise money on such a plan of government?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Far more easily than in any other way, in +my opinion. Under a general rule that property +is to pay such or such a proportion of tax, there +is the least possible room for partiality and +oppression; for the derangement of people’s +affairs, and interference with people’s actions. +There is an open and honest calling to account, +at times that are fixed, in a manner that is established, +and for purposes that are well understood: +while, by meddling as excisemen and custom-house +officers meddle, the king is defrauded of +the affections of his people; the state is wronged +in purse and reputation; and its agents are made +masters to teach multitudes a livelihood which +need never have been heard of. Which of us +would naturally have dreamed of living by defrauding +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.124'>124</span>the government, for whose protection +we were ready to pay our share?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Then you will not go on as you have been +doing lately,” said Anna. “You will go home +with us, and serve the government as you yourself +think the government ought to be served.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I will see you home, and do my father’s +errand at the custom-house,” replied Aaron. +“The States shall never have cause to complain +of me, as long as they go on to take our taxes as +they do now. As for cheating them, I could not +if I would: and I am sure I have no desire to do +it while they treat me like a man, and ask no +more from me than is due from a subject.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I am sure I hope they will go on to do so.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You may well wish it. If ever they begin +meddling with your cider or soap-making, or +setting spies upon me when I buy tobacco or +hemp, I shall be off to some country,—Turkey +may be,—where taxes are demanded and not +filched.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Turkey! I thought that was a horrible +country to live in.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“So you would find it in many respects; but +it is wise and free in its mode of taxation; and +the effects of this one kind of wisdom and freedom +on the happiness of the people, our neighbours +on the north and south would do prudently +to study and admit. However, yonder lies +Jersey; as good a place as Turkey in this respect, +and better in many others; so I have no present +wish to sail eastwards.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>It seemed to Mrs. Le Brocq this afternoon +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.125'>125</span>that nothing more was necessary to happiness +than to be sailing southwards, with Aaron trimming +the sail, Anna looking as tranquil as if she +had never been in an excise court or a prison, +and the beloved island rising on the sight, in +which was Louise, probably with a pretty baby +in her arms;—a pretty baby, of course, as every +thing belonging to Louise must be pretty. How +cheerful looked that picturesque coast from +Grosnez to Rozel, as promontory after promontory +came into view, tapestried with verdure, or +crested with cairns or church towers, and casting +each its dark shadow to hide its eastern cove from +the declining sun! How busy were those coves +to-day! how unlike their usual solitude and stillness! +At almost every other time, it was a +wonder to see more than a solitary loiterer on +the narrow path whose precarious line circled the +rocks, and penetrated the bays, now winding up +to the steep, now dipping to the margin of the +water; and, as for the yellow sands, they were +left printless from tide to tide while the islanders +were busy about their farmsteads. But now, all +was as animated as if the land was joyful at the +Le Brocqs’ return. Carts were standing in the +water to receive the vraic; and the red-capped +boy who rode the horse, or the white-sleeved +man who wielded his rake in the vehicle, looked +bright in the evening sunshine. Here and there, +a horse might be seen swimming home from a +distant mass of rock, guided by a youth or +maiden mounted on the heaped panniers. Boats +were plying from point to point; and on every +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.126'>126</span>ledge where marine vegetation could be supposed +to flourish without danger of molestation, +children might be seen tugging at the tenacious +weed, while their fathers did more effectual execution +with their scythes. There was not an +exposed place all along this coast where the +lobsters could safely come up this day to sun +themselves; and when the infant crabs should +next propose to play hide-and-seek in what was +to them a sort of marine jungle, they would find +their moist retreat stripped and bare, and must +betake themselves again to the tide. High on +the beach might be seen parties busy at their +work, or busier at their recreation,—spreading +and tossing the ooze as if it were hay, or +broaching the cider cask, and distributing the +vraicking cakes. Mrs. Le Brocq once nearly +upset the boat, by lifting up her ponderous self +with the view of hailing the mowers on shore;—a +feat about as practicable in her case as shaking +hands with one on the top of Coutances cathedral. +She was glad to reseat herself, and be no +worse, and try to wait patiently till the boat +should have rounded Archirondel tower, and +given her up to tread one of the green paths +from St. Catherine’s bay to the ridge, on the +other side of which was Louise.</p> + +<p class='c001'>From that ridge might be seen the farm-house, +just as was expected. It did not seem to have +lost an ivy-leaf, nor to have gained so much as +a lichen on its pales. The pigeons looked the +very same. The fowls strutted and perched +exactly as formerly; and the brook trotted over +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.127'>127</span>the stones as if it had never grown tired all +these many months.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Who could have thought we had been +away?” was Anna’s first exclamation. Her +mother was toiling on too fast to reply; but +Aaron gave an unconscious answer to her thought +when he presently overtook them, and delivered +the result of the observation he had lingered on +the ridge to make with his boat glass.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Who do you think is in the porch, mother?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Louise!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And who else?—No, not her husband, nor +Victorine; but her baby. There is a bundle on +her arm; I am sure it must be her baby. Charles +is out vraicking, no doubt; and Victorine is milking, +I see, behind there. Not so fast, mother, +if I may advise. Let me go first. She will be +less surprised to see me; and I think she cannot +be strong yet, or she would have been out +vraicking too.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>It was, in fact, Louise’s first evening out of +doors after her confinement. What an evening +it was!—Anna relieving her of all household +cares; her mother overflowing by turns with +affecting narrative and admiration of the infant; +Stephen giving a droll turn to every thing; and +no paternal restraint to spoil the whole! It was +a pity that night was near, and that it would +come to put a stop to the interesting questions +and answers that abounded.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“When do you gather your apples, love? I +have been thinking we must soon be setting +about your cider.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_4.128'>128</span>“But, mother, only think of your coming +away from London without seeing the king!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“My dear, your father did write to him: so it +is not as if we had had nothing to do with him.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And what was the answer like?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Bless me, Anna! we never thought more of +the king’s answer. But, really, my head was so +full of things, I never recollected to send to +inquire at the post-office. However, your father +will be more mindful, I dare say. Well, Louise, +I cannot think how you managed with the calf, +to have such a misfortune happen, my dear. I +never failed with one all the time I lived here.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And you say you never so much as tried in +Lambeth. I do wonder you did not manage it, +one way or another.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Nobody keeps cows there, love, but the +brewers; and then the poor beasts live on the +grains, and seldom taste fresh grass. They +flourish, in a way, too. A great brewer near us +had one brought in, intending that it should have +the range of the paved yard, on Sundays, when +the gates were shut: but the creature had +fattened on the grains so that when the people +would have let her out, she could not turn in her +stall. When they had thinned her a little, so +that she might get exercise, it was thought that +the fumes of the liquor had affected her head, +she capered about so among the casks. But +I never heard but what she yielded very good +cream, which you do not always see in London.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I wonder how they get cream at all, if, as +you say, there are no cows but one in each +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.129'>129</span>brewery. Perhaps the excise makes the difficulty +with taking some of the cream for the king; as +they say the tithing man does for the parson.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Aaron had not heard of an exciseman being +yet instructed to thrust himself between the cow +and the milk-pail; but he should not be surprised +any day to hear of its being made part of +an excise officer’s duty to peep in at a dairy lattice, +and see what the milk-maids were about with +their skimming dishes. Did not he hear horses’ +feet outside? Could it be Charles? No; Charles +was not coming home to-night. What old +friend could it be? And he ran out to see.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“An old enemy,” the guest expected to be +called. It was Janvrin, the tax-gatherer. Every +body was struck with the strangeness of the +circumstance that he should appear on this particular +night,—to a party who had had so much +to do with taxes since they had met him last. +There was something much more astonishing to +him in the cordiality of his reception.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“The last time I saw you all here,” said he, +“you certainly wished me at the Caskets, or +somewhere further off still; and now, you are +heaping your good supper upon me, as if I were +come to pay money, and not to ask it.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“For our former behaviour,” replied Aaron, +“you may call him to account,”—pointing to +Stephen. “You heard him say what taxation +was in England,—just paying a trifle more for +articles when they were bought;—such a mere +trifle as not to be perceived. He is not laughing +in his sleeve now as he was when he told that +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.130'>130</span>traveller’s tale. It is to our having taken him at +his word, Janvrin, and made trial of English +taxation, that you owe your different reception +to-night.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Stephen expressed his sorrow that his words +had taken so much more effect than he had +intended. He really would try,—he would do +his very best, to avoid telling travellers’ tales for +the future.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“The oddest thing is,” said Janvrin, “that +there are some who are no travellers that tell the +very same tale. There are dwellers in England,—even +speakers in her parliament, who ought to +know the condition and interests of the people, +who go on to insist that the filching system,—the +taxing of commodities,—is the best way of +raising a revenue. The wonder to me is why +the mouths of such men are not stopped,—how +such taxes come to be borne.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Because it is the ignorant who have to bear +the worst of the burden,” Stephen thought. +“The payment is made unconsciously by those +who pay in the long run. The trader feels the +grievance at first, and makes an outcry; but +when the time comes for him to repay himself +out of his customers’ pockets, he drops his cry, +and nobody takes it up. It saves some people +much trouble that all should be hush. But the +time cannot be far off when honest men will be +set to inquire, and then——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And what then?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“They will report that the truest kindness to +the people will be rather to preserve the worst +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.131'>131</span>direct tax, be it what it may, that was ever +devised, than to go on taxing glass and soap, +and many other things nearly as necessary.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“If the people are so little aware as you say, +I am afraid that day is a long way off.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I think it is near at hand; and for this +reason; that there has been a beginning made +with the excise taxes. The government has set +free candles, beer, cider and perry, hides and +printed goods. What should hinder their going +on to glass and soap, now that the mischief +begins to be understood?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Especially,” said Janvrin, “when they find +what it is to have fewer officers to pay, and +smaller regiments of spies to provide for, and +less trouble in delivering money backwards and +forwards, as they have to do now with drawbacks +and import duties, and all such troublesome +things. It is a pity they should not come here, +and see what it is to have houses made of free +bricks, and filled with furniture made of untaxed +wood, and cleaned with home-made soap, +andbut I need not tell the present company +what it is to live in Jersey, before or after living +in England. The English may have heard a +little of our meadows, our cattle, and our fruits, +the like to which they cannot make in a season, +at their will; but they can hardly have heard +much of our taxation, or else they would come +and live here by thousands;—or rather, mend +their own plans so as not to be beaten by us in +butter-selling in their own markets,—not to be +obliged to us for helping them underhand with +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.132'>132</span>such corn and oil and wine as we do not want,—not +to reflect with shame that we have in proportion +five newspapers to their one, and one +tax-gatherer to their ten.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“The comptroller at St. Heliers might well +advise me not to go to England,” said Aaron. +“He knew well what he meant in saying it. I +shall tell him so to-morrow; and the more +because I was inclined to take it ill at the time?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Saying, I suppose, ‘What’s that to you?’ +Hey, Mr. Aaron?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Just so. I have had my answer, I assure +you. I hope he knows as well how different his +office is from that of an English custom-house +officer. When he has done his search about +wine and spirits, he may put his hands in his +pocket and amuse himself. I well remember his +doing so, of old. In England, there is not a +package that comes on shore that is not suspected; +and scarcely a thing that is brought over +to be sold for touch or taste, that is not taxed or +to be taxed.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“That is going too far for any body’s interest. +If the English would have no customs for +protection, but only for revenue, they would presently +find out what would bear customs duty +without doing harm to any or all. They would +tax outwards only what their country produced +so much better than other countries that others +would go on to buy, notwithstanding the tax; +and inwards nothing at all. When China taxes +her own tea, and Russia her own tallow, timber, +and hides, and England her own iron and slates, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.133'>133</span>and each country, in like manner, its own best +produce, and nobody’s else, the curse of the customs +will cease from off the earth.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Meantime, if the duties were proportioned to +the natural prices of articles, and made to fall +with the price, instead of rising——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Some of our islanders must change their occupation; +or fish lobsters in earnest instead of +pretence. Then there would be an end of the +crowning curse of smuggling.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Aaron and Stephen made no answer,—the +one applying himself once more to his plate, and +the other pressing the tax-gatherer again to eat. +An interval was left for Louise to repeat to him, +while Victorine stood open-mouthed to hear, some +of the wonders of life in Lambeth;—the nonexistence +of cows, the dearth of baked pears and +vraic, and the actual presence of a river in +which nobody thought of washing clothes. This +reminded Victorine to make haste and put away +every stray article of apparel before Stephen retired +to rest.</p> + +<h3 id='ch4.8' class='c012'><span class='sc'>Chapter VIII.</span><br> <br>A WANDERER STILL.</h3> + +<p class='c017'>“My mother is still asleep, I suppose,” said +Aaron, the next morning, when followed by Anna +as he was going forth. “I do not wonder; for +I was drowsy enough to have slept on till noon, if +I had not had this errand of my father’s to do at +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.134'>134</span>the Custom-house. I will take care that the certificate +gets to his hands; and then you will soon +see him. You shall have news of the pottery +from time to time, Anna. Farewell.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What do you mean, Aaron? Now, do answer +me. Are you not coming back?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, yes; I shall look in upon you now and +then at odd times. I may chance to enter when +you are all asleep, or to drop in for a basin of +soup on a winter day. You do not want me, you +know. The rope-walk is Malet’s; and my father +will take care of the farm.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“No, no, Aaron. Nothing will prosper with +us if you go out again with those law-breakers on +the sea. We shall never be happy if you live by +breaking the laws. God will never prosper us.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“How can you say that, Anna, when I have +prospered already as I never thought to prosper? +The worst that can happen to me is to have my +tobacco seized now and then. I assure you that +is all; for I am only a trader. It is no part of +my business to meet the coast-guard, and get +murdered. They can only seize my goods; and +that signifies little with tobacco, which costs me +next to nothing, and brings me a fine profit from +England, though I sell it far below the legal +price there. Such a loss now and then is no +punishment compared with the having spies +set upon my honest business, as I had in London.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I thought that when we came back here, all +would be right,” said his weeping sister.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And so it is. I am getting rich; and I +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.135'>135</span>love the sea and the freedom I have upon it. +You ought to be glad that I have found a way of +life that I like, and left one that I hated.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Anna only shook her head and wept the more; +and then Stephen came groping out; and, +guided by Aaron’s voice, approached also to say +farewell.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, do not go yet,” cried she to Aaron. “When +will you come back? When will your conscience +be touched about your way of life, about living +by cheating the state?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Whenever the state shows a little more regard +to the consciences of the king’s subjects +than it does now. What I do, I have been taught; +and you know how, Anna. I shall come back to +live by the land whenever they cut off my living +by sea. Whenever the English un-tax corn and +wine and tobacco, I shall come and be a Jersey +farmer, and you shall milk my cows, unless——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Stephen seized the occasion for a joke about +the brown maidens of France, into whose company +Aaron’s wild occupations sometimes brought +him, and about the damsels of the neighbouring +islets, who had learned to know the stroke of his +oar from all others, as soon as its flash could be +seen in the sunshine. Aaron laughed; and +laughing, bade his sister again farewell.</p> + +<p class='c001'>She could not even smile. Little did she once +think that it could ever make her sad to see Aaron +merry; but as little did she then suppose that +Aaron would ever live by a lawless occupation. +Sadly did she watch him, leading away his companion +till both were quite out of sight; and disconsolately +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4.136'>136</span>did she then sit down in the porch, +and grieve over the temptation which drew her +brother away from the blossoming valley where +his days might have proceeded, as they had +begun, in innocence and plenty.</p> +<div class='pbb'> + <hr class='pb c000'> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c004'> + <div><a id='work5'></a><span class='large'>ILLUSTRATIONS</span></div> + <div class='c000'><span class='small'>OF</span></div> + <div class='c000'><em class='gesperrt'><span class='xlarge'>TAXATION.</span></em></div> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class='c005'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c006'> + <div>No. V.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c007'>THE <br> SCHOLARS OF ARNESIDE.</h2> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c006'> + <div><span class="blackletter">A Tale.</span></div> + <div class='c000'><span class='small'>BY</span></div> + <div class='c000'><span class='large'>HARRIET MARTINEAU.</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class='c005'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c004'> + <div>LONDON:</div> + <div>CHARLES FOX, 67, PATERNOSTER-ROW.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class='c008'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> + <div class='nf-center'> + <div>1831.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c004'> + <div>LONDON:</div> + <div>PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES,</div> + <div><span class='small'>Duke Street, Lambeth.</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c007'><span class='small'>THE</span> <br>SCHOLARS OF ARNESIDE.</h2> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c006'> + <div><span class="blackletter">A Tale.</span></div> + <div class='c000'><span class='small'>BY</span></div> + <div class='c000'><span class='large'>HARRIET MARTINEAU.</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class='c005'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c009'> + <div>LONDON:</div> + <div>CHARLES FOX, 67, PATERNOSTER-ROW.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class='c008'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c011'> + <div>1834.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<div> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_v'>v</span> + <h3 class='c016'>PREFACE.</h3> +</div> + +<p class='c017'>In treating of some of our methods of Taxation, +it has been my object to show that they are unjust, +odious and unprofitable, to a degree which could +never be experienced under a system of simple, +direct taxation. Believing that such a system +must be finally and generally adopted, I have endeavoured +to do the little in my power towards +preparing and stimulating the public mind to +make the demand.</p> + +<p class='c001'>If I had consulted my own convenience, and +the value of my little books as literary productions, +I should have written less rapidly than I +have done. My conviction was and is, that the +best means of satisfying the interest of my readers +on such a subject as I had chosen, was to publish +monthly. I am now about to compensate for my +much speaking by a long silence. It costs me +some pain to say this: but the great privilege of +human life,—that of looking forward, is for ever +<span class='pageno' id='Page_vi'>vi</span>at hand for stimulus and solace; and I already +pass over the few years of preparation, and contemplate +the time when, better qualified for their +service, I may greet my readers again.</p> + +<div class='c028'>H. M.</div> + +<p class='c001'><i>July 1st, 1834.</i></p> + +<h3 class='c012'>CONTENTS.</h3> + +<table class='table3'> +<colgroup> +<col class='colwidth7'> +<col class='colwidth76'> +<col class='colwidth15'> +</colgroup> + <tr> + <td class='c013'> </td> + <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>Chap.</span></td> + <td class='c015'><span class='sc'>Page</span></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c013'>1.</td> + <td class='c014'>The Mysteries of Wisdom</td> + <td class='c015'><a href='#ch5.1'>1</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c013'>2.</td> + <td class='c014'>Maternal Anticipations</td> + <td class='c015'><a href='#ch5.2'>15</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c013'>3.</td> + <td class='c014'>Lessons on the Hills</td> + <td class='c015'><a href='#ch5.3'>29</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c013'>4.</td> + <td class='c014'>Signs in the Sky</td> + <td class='c015'><a href='#ch5.4'>42</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c013'>5.</td> + <td class='c014'>Owen and X. Y. Z.</td> + <td class='c015'><a href='#ch5.5'>58</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c013'>6.</td> + <td class='c014'>Press and Post-Office</td> + <td class='c015'><a href='#ch5.6'>73</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c013'>7.</td> + <td class='c014'>The Policy of M.Ps.</td> + <td class='c015'><a href='#ch5.7'>96</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c013'>8.</td> + <td class='c014'>Family Secrets</td> + <td class='c015'><a href='#ch5.8'>117</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c013'>9.</td> + <td class='c014'>The Mysteries laid open</td> + <td class='c015'><a href='#ch5.9'>122</a></td> + </tr> +</table> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c004'> + <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_5.1'>1</span><span class='large'>THE</span></div> + <div><span class='large'>SCHOLARS OF ARNESIDE.</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<h3 id='ch5.1' class='c016'><span class='sc'>Chapter I.</span> <br> <br> THE MYSTERIES OF WISDOM.</h3> + +<p class='c017'>“Come, my maiden: come and tell me. You +know what it is I like to hear of a Sunday evening,” +said Nurse Ede to her little girl. Nurse +was sitting with her hands before her, beside the +old round table from which she had cleared away +the supper. As it was Sunday evening, she +could not work; and nurse had never been taught +to read. Little Mildred was standing on the +door-sill, watching Owen and Ambrose who were +engaged outside. As she turned in at her mother’s +summons, she said she thought it rained; which +the sheep would be glad of to-morrow.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mrs. Ede went to the door to call in her boys, +lest Owen’s best jacket should suffer by the rain.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Bless the lads!” cried she. “What are they +sprawling on the ground in that manner for?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Watching the ants home,” Mildred explained. +“There are more ants than ever, mother: +all in a line. Ambrose found where they went to +at one end; and now he is looking for the other +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.2'>2</span>nest. They are running as fast as ever they can +go.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Though ’tis Sunday,” observed nurse. “Well! +’tis not every body that Sunday is given to: and +it is no rule, my dear, because the ants run as +fast as ever they can go, that you should not +walk quietly to school and to church, as the Lord +bids. Come in, my dears, and leave the ants to +go to their beds. It is coming up for rain, and +mizzles somewhat already. Come in, and tell +me about school this morning. I had not the +luck to be at a school in my day,” she went on +to say, while the boys followed her in, and brushed +the dust from each other’s elbows and knees. +“I had nothing to tell my poor father of a +Sunday evening, of what I had learned. So let +me hear now. I am sure you were steady +children this morning.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>On the occasion of Sunday evening, the children +were indulged with the use of the fine, large +footstool, which the late Mrs. Arruther had +worked with her own hands as a wedding present +for nurse’s mother. When infants, it had been +their weekly privilege to show their mother which +of the embroidered flowers was a rose, and which +a heart’s-ease, and which a tulip; and now that +they were somewhat too old to confound the rose +and the tulip, they took it in turn to sit on the +stool at their mother’s knee, while they imparted +their little learning to her who meekly received +from her own children some scraps of knowledge +which she had been denied the opportunity of +gaining during her own young days.</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_5.3'>3</span>“I warrant I know what set ye to look after +the ants,” said she. “There is a bit about the +ants in the bible that I have heard read in church. +Which of ye can read it to me, I wonder?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Ambrose looked at Owen, and Owen looked +doubtfully at the large old bible which Mildred +reverently brought down from the shelf, at a +glance from her mother. Owen did not know +where, in all that great book, to look for the bit +about the ant. While he was turning over the +leaves, stopping to consider every great A he +came to, Mildred wanted to know whether it was +an ant that had tickled her face at church this +morning, and hung from her hair by a thread +smaller than she could see.</p> + +<p class='c001'>It was of the nature of an ant, her mother +thought. It had much the make of an ant: but +it was called a money-spinner.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Does it spin money?” asked Mildred quickly.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O yes. My father used to tell me it would +spin penny pieces from the ground up as high as +our thatch.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And as high as the mill, perhaps?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I dare say. But my father did not tell me +that, by reason of the mill not being built in his +time.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I wish I had not put the money-spinner +away,” said Mildred, thoughtfully. “I wish I +could get another.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Perhaps one will be sent to you one of these +days, if you be a steady girl. And you will get +penny pieces, and perhaps silver as you grow +bigger, if you look to the sheep as your master +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.4'>4</span>would have you. Now, boys: have you found +about the ant?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>No. They had found “Adam” near the beginning, +and had got past “Aaron,” and found +that “Abimelech” was too long a word to be the +one they wanted. The “Ands” abounded so as +to tantalize and perplex them exceedingly; and +when Owen recollected that “ant” might begin +with a small “a,” both came to a full stop. Their +mother was kind enough, however, to say that +another part of the bible would do as well. They +might read her the piece they had read in school +in the morning.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Owen began. He did his best; never looking +off the book, or sparing himself the trouble of +spelling every word that he did not know: but +his mother gained little by what he read. He +mixed his spelling with his reading so completely, +and varied his tone so little, not knowing that he +should render the stops as evident to his mother’s +ear as they were to his eye, that she could make +nothing of the sense. The passage was about +some priests carrying the ark over Jordan; and +this was a puzzle to her. Her principal idea +about Jordan was that almonds came thence; +and she now therefore learned for the first time +that almonds came like fish out of the water: +and how the ark, which she knew had carried +Noah and his family, and a pair of every living +creature in the world, should itself be carried on +the shoulders of a few clergymen, was what she +could not clearly comprehend. It happened that +Owen had been told that there were two arks, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.5'>5</span>and the difference between them; but he did not +remember to explain this: so his mother, who +would not for the world wonder at anything that +could be found in the bible, supposed that it was +all right, sighed to think that her poor husband +had not lived to witness his eldest boy’s learning, +and then smiled at Ambrose when it became his +turn to try.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Ambrose was in the class below Owen. At +present, he could read only by spelling every +word. While he was about it, Mildred’s eyes and +attention wandered. The rain was now pattering +against the lattice, and dripping from the thatch +in little streams, which a ray from the parting +clouds in the west made to glitter like silver. +Then the light grew almost into sunshine on the +wall of the room, and on the shelf where nurse +laid up the apparatus of her art. Mrs. Ede was +employed by her few opulent neighbours as a +nurse only; but she was regarded as also a doctor +by the poor residents in the village of Arneside. +She held herself in readiness, not only to +nurse them, night or day, when they were ill, but +to administer to them from the phials and bottles +of red, yellow, and black liquids which stood on +her shelf. These medicines now shone in the +western light so brilliantly as to catch her little +daughter’s eye; and, while looking, Mildred observed +two or three new articles of a strange construction +which lay upon the shelf, or hung +against the wall. She could not wait till Ambrose +had done reading to ask what they were; +and she was answered as she might have known +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.6'>6</span>she would be,—by a mysterious look, and a finger +laid upon the lips. It was not only that Ambrose +was reading, but that it was utterly in vain +to question Mrs. Ede about the circumstances of +her art. Whether she was persuaded that knowledge +as to her means would destroy faith in her +practice, or that she wished to preserve a becoming +degree of awe in her little ones by mystery +in the one matter in which she was wiser +than they,—it so happened that they had never +enticed her into the slightest confidence respecting +the furniture of the south wall of her room. +When Ambrose brought in the roots he had been +directed to procure on the heath, the basket and +rusty knife were gravely delivered up, and received +without a smile, and with only a word of +inquiry as to whether the roots had grown on a +moonshiny or shady piece of turf; and whether +the dew was off or on when they were dug +up. Sometimes, when she was believed to be +gone out for the day, one little sinner placed a +stool for another to climb, that the mysteries +might be handled and smelled as well as looked +at. Tasting was out of the question, so dreadful +were the stories which they had heard of little +people who had fallen down dead with the mere +drawing of a forbidden cork. Once, also, nurse +returned unexpectedly when Owen had come in +from the mill, and Mildred from the moor, and +they were trying experiments with the longest of +her bandages; Owen in a corner, holding one +end, and his sister at the opposite corner, turning +herself round and round to see how many times +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.7'>7</span>the long strip would fold about her body. What +she heard said by way of warning to Ambrose, +when the exposure was made to him, might have +taught her the uselessness of questions: but she +forgot the incident of the bandage when she this +evening offended again by her curiosity. She +did what she could to profit by Ambrose’s reading, +rocking herself and crossing her arms in +imitation of her mother; but her eyes would still +turn upon the shelf, and her heart could not help +envying the kitten which had made a daring leap +up, and was now thrusting in its nose, and making +a faint jingle among the sacred vessels.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“This is what you should attend to, my dear,” +nurse explained, laying her hand upon the bible, +when the boy was at length taking breath after +his task. “The Lord gave the bible for little +girls to understand; and they should not ask +what it is not proper for them to know.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“How are we to find out what it is proper for +us to know?” asked Owen.</p> + +<p class='c001'>His mother told him that there would always +be somebody at hand to tell him;—either Mr. +Waugh, or the parson, or herself. She would do +her best, she was sure.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I shall not ask Mrs. Arruther, I can tell +her,” observed Owen. “She never lets Mr. +Waugh alone about the Sunday school; and she +has done all she can to set the parson against it.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“She is very strong in her mind against that +school, indeed, Owen; and many’s the time when +she has been sharp with me for letting you learn, +having herself a bad opinion of learning for such +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.8'>8</span>as we are. And often enough I have been uneasy +about what I ought to do: but, having great +confidence in Mr. Waugh, and having always +heard my poor father and others say that a little +learning is a fine thing for those that can get it, +I hoped I was not out of my duty when I let +you go to the school, as Mr. Waugh desired. +And I hope Ambrose and Mildred are both very +thankful for being allowed to go, as well as you, +though not belonging to the paper-mill, and able +only to take their schooling every other week, +when it is not their turn with the sheep.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ambrose can’t keep up in the class though, +as if he went every Sunday, like the other boys.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“The more reason for his making the best of +his time when he is there. Only think, Ambrose, +what it would have been for you to be out on the +hills every Sunday, away from the church, and +no more able to read your bible than I am. I +trust, my dear, that you will be as well able as +Owen, though not perhaps so soon, (but you will +have time before you to go on learning when he +is done,) to read a chapter to me when I grow +old, and maybe not able to hear the clergyman in +church. But you must none of you be bent +upon learning more than it is proper for you to +know, lest you should bring me to think that +Mrs. Arruther has been right all the time, and +that I have been doing harm when I was most +anxious for your good. Why can’t my little +maiden,” she went on to say, “play with the +kitten, or look out at the door, as well as be for +ever glancing up at that shelf?”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_5.9'>9</span>Mildred lost no time in availing herself of this +permission to play. Puss had disappeared; but +when called, she showed herself through a hole in +the crazy wall of the cottage, and jumped upon +Mildred all the way as she went to the door.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Me! where are all the clouds gone?” exclaimed +Mildred, shading her eyes with her hand, +and looking up into the sky. “’Twas right black +when you called me in; and now it is all blue. +There’s not a cloud.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“They are all fetched up above the sky, my +dear, to make a fine Sunday evening.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I doubt whether the sheep will like it altogether +as we do,” observed Ambrose. “There is +a mist on their walk yonder; and it is my belief +their coats are heavy with wet at this very +time.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Ambrose was very consequential about sheep, +there being no one at home to contradict anything +he might say about creatures that he had +more to do with than either mother or brother. +All that could be done was to question whether +it signified to the sheep whether they were more +in a mist on a Saturday or a Sunday evening. +If it made no difference to them, and they were +hidden and out of sight, it remained a fine Sunday +evening to people below; and that was +enough to be thankful for.</p> + +<p class='c001'>While the whole party was gazing with shaded +eyes towards the upland which was enveloped +with a white cloud, through whose folds neither +beast nor man could at present be discerned, +somebody seized little Mildred by the shoulders +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.10'>10</span>from behind. Of course, being startled, she +screamed.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Dear me, Ryan, is it you?” exclaimed nurse +to the old man who had approached unawares. +“And all dripping with the rain,—your sack +and all—and we have no fire! But I will get +one presently. Boys, bring in some furze from +the shed; and Mildred, strike a light. Don’t +think of standing in your wet clothes, neighbour. +But who would have expected to see you travelling +with your sack on a Sunday?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Ryan would not be blamed for making a push +to see an old friend. He had a mind for an +hour’s chat with nurse Ede, if she would let him +dry his sack, and lay his head upon it, in any +corner of her cottage. As for the hour’s chat, +nurse was quite willing; and Ryan was welcome +to house-room: but she was engaged, she was +sorry to say, to sit up with Mrs. Arruther to-night. +She had promised to be at the Hall by +nine o’clock. No time was lost. The fierce heat +of the burning furze soon made Ryan as dry and +warm as on any summer’s noon, and quite ready +for chat and bread and eggs.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“So the poor old lady is ill, is she?” said he. +“What, is she very bad?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Very bad. With all the trying, there is no +getting down to the wound; and she is sadly +afflicted with spasms in the blood that make her +heart turn round till I sometimes doubt whether +it will ever come right again. She has awful +nights.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“If all be true that is said,” declared Ryan, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.11'>11</span>“there is enough happening to bend her heart +till it breaks.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>How? What? Who was doing any harm to +Mrs. Arruther?—There was no use in the children’s +asking and listening. This was one of the +pieces of knowledge not meant for them. They +could find out no more than that the news related +to Mr. Arruther, the lady’s son, and the member +for a small borough in the district; and that the +gentleman had done something very wicked. +What was his crime could not be discovered. +Whether he had overlooked seams in sorting +rags, or let a lamb stray, or torn his clothes in the +briers, and forgotten to mend them, or played +with the hassock at church, must be ascertained +hereafter: but some one of these offences it must +be, as the children had heard of no others.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And what is your news, Ryan?” asked his +hostess in her turn. “Sure you must have some, +so far as you travel this way and that?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ay; I have news. I have news plenty; +such as you have hardly chanced to hear in your +day, I fancy.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Why, really! and yet I have lived in the +time when all the news about Buonaparte used to +come; when our people used to be hanging the +flag from the church almost every month, for a +victory or something. It can hardly be anything +greater than that. Hark, children, hark! Mr. +Ryan is going to tell us some news. But I +hope, Ryan, it is such as may be told on a Lord’s +day evening.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Certainly. If my news be not diligently +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.12'>12</span>spread, we may chance soon to have no more +Lord’s day evenings. You may look shocked; +but what is to come of all Christian things when +the heathen come upon us? and what heathens +are so bad as the Turks, you know?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mrs. Ede quailed with consternation, never +having heard of the Turks, and having no other +idea about heathens than that the bible called +them very bad people, and that (for so she had +always taken for granted) they lived upon a +heath—probably after the manner of gipsies. +She was afraid this bad news was too true, so +many opportunities as Mr. Ryan had for knowing +what was going on abroad.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Indeed you are right, Mrs. Ede. It was a +man from abroad that told me. He has not been +three months over from Hamburgh with his lot +of rags from the Mediterranean; and he informs +me that the Turks are coming up to take Russia +and Europe, and make Turkish slaves of all the +Christians.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“The Lord have mercy! And then, I suppose, +I had better not let my boy and girl go out +on the hills after the sheep. It will be safer to +keep them at home, won’t it? I would do without +their little wages, rather than that they should +light upon any Turks under the hedges, or in any +lane.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You will have notice in good time, neighbour. +I myself will endeavour to let you know, +the first minute I can. And if I don’t, you will +find it out by all the church bells tolling, and the +battles on all sides through the country. O, yes; +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.13'>13</span>every bell that has a clapper will toll, partly to +give notice, and partly to see what the Turks can +do against the Christian bells of our Christian +churches. Yes, every bell in the land will toll.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Same as when the princess died,” said Mildred. +“I heard the great bell all the way from +P that day, when I was on the hill-top. +Maybe I’ll hear it again, if the wind come from +that way.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Indeed you shall not be on the hill-top, +child, the day that the Turks come. Could you +give us an idea when it will be, Ryan? It would +be a pity but some of the ewes should yean first, +if it is not dictating to the Lord to say so.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The enemy could hardly be coming just yet, +Ryan thought, as the Government was going to +change the Parliament, in hopes of getting one +that would be more fit to preserve the empire +than the present. Mr. Arruther would be soon +coming into the neighbourhood to manage his +election; and that event might serve in some +sort as a token.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Mrs. Arruther would have known all about +the Turks, if everything had been right,—you +know what I mean?” said Mrs. Ede to her guest. +“But I suppose, as it is, I had better not mention +anything of danger to the poor lady, sick as +she is.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“By no means, unless she breaks the subject +to you. Tell her other sorts of news. Tell her +that I and my sack are likely soon to come travelling +at the rate of a hundred miles an hour.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, Mr. Ryan, where will you find the horses +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.14'>14</span>that will bring you at that rate? Why, a hundred +horses would not bring you so quick as that, +if you had money to hire them!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Ryan smiled, and said that he meant to travel +at this rate without horses at all. Ay; they +might wonder at any one travelling at such a rate +on foot; but the way was this:—there was a new +sort of road going to be made, on which never a +horse was to set foot, and where, by paying half-a-crown +to get upon it, a man and his baggage,—and +a woman too,—might do as he had said. +It was to be called a rail-road.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Because it was to be railed in, no doubt, to +keep off those who could not pay half-a-crown. +Now, if the government could keep the enemy +off this road, and let all its own people upon it, +all might run away, so as to leave the Turks no +chance of following. This seemed to open a +prospect of escape; and nurse rose in better +spirits, to put on her bonnet to go to Mrs. Arruther’s. +A curious picture was before her mind’s +eye, of Ryan’s gliding along a rail-road with his +sack on his back, as fast as she had sometimes +gone in dreams,—for all the world like boys +sliding on the ice in winter. The wonder was +that, if Ryan spoke truth, this curious road would +be quite as efficacious on the hottest day of summer +as after a week’s frost.</p> + +<p class='c001'>When she had finished her little arrangements +for the comfort of her guest, and bidden him good +night, she called Ambrose out after her, and desired +him to fetch cheese from the village grocer’s +for Ryan’s breakfast, the moment the shop should +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.15'>15</span>be opened. If he was there by the time the first +shutter was taken down, he might cut for himself +and Mildred a quarter of the cheese he should +bring home. It would give a relish to their +bread when they should have been after the sheep +for a couple of hours, and feel ready for their +breakfast on the hill-side.</p> + +<h3 id='ch5.2' class='c012'><span class='sc'>Chapter II.</span><br> <br>MATERNAL ANTICIPATIONS.</h3> + +<p class='c017'>As there must be no communication with Mrs. +Arruther about the most important article of +Ryan’s news, nurse would have had no objection +to talk it over a little on her way through the +village; but she found no opportunity to do so. +There were no walkers to be seen enjoying the +cool of the evening by the side of the placid Arne, +as it flowed on towards the fall where it turned +the wheel of Mr. Waugh’s paper-mill. There +were no husbands and wives sitting outside their +doors, after having put their children to sleep. +There were no lingerers in the churchyard, talking +over the sermon of the morning. A low, +confused murmur of suppressed voices issued +from the narrow opening of the ale-house door, +as it stood ajar, and let a gleam of light from +within fall across the road. Almost every interior +was visible from being more or less lighted +up; but no one offered encouragement for a +word of conversation in passing. Mrs. Dowley +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.16'>16</span>was slapping her boy Tom because he would not +go to sleep as she bade him; and Mrs. Green, +whose children were more obedient in this one +respect, was dozing with her head upon the table, +by way of whiling away the time till her husband +should come home from the Rose. Kate Jeffery +was reading to her grandfather as he sat in his +great chair; and it would not do to interrupt +her, lest it should be the bible that she was reading. +A knot of lads were gathered about the +churchyard gate; but their voices sounded so +rude, that nurse, who was a somewhat timid +woman, made a circuit to avoid passing through +them. The porter at Mrs. Arruther’s let her in +with a studious haste which seemed to intimate +that he thought her late; and she did not stay +to be told so. In the housekeeper’s room she +only tarried to see that her close cap looked neat, +and to pin on the shawl she always wore when +she sat up at night. Mrs. Arruther had asked +for her six times in the last ten minutes; so there +was not a moment to be lost.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You were to come at nine o’clock, and it is +ten minutes past, nurse,” said the sick lady. +“This is always the way people treat me,—as if +there was not a clock in Arneside.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>There were several clocks in Arneside, by +one of which it was two minutes past nine, by +another it wanted a quarter to nine; a third +was at half-past eight, and a fourth was striking +three as nurse passed its door. But Mrs. Ede +never contradicted her patients. She told of +Ryan’s arrival, and was admonished that no guest +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.17'>17</span>of hers could possibly be of half so much importance +as Mrs. Arruther.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I know how it is, nurse. It is those children +of yours that can do nothing for themselves, any +more than any other children that are educated +as the fashion is now. They will want you to +wash their faces for them, and put them to bed, as +long as they live, if you go on sending them to +that Sunday school.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Nurse was very sorry to hear this. She did +not know, in such a case, what they were to do +to get their faces washed when she should be +gone to her grave, where she hoped to be long +before her three children. But indeed she must +say for her little folks that they could all put +themselves to bed, and had done it, even the +youngest, these two years past.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ay, ay; that was before you sent them to +the school. Keep them there a little longer, and +they will be fit for nothing at all. You never +will believe any warning I give you about it; +but I tell you again, the three last housemaids I +had this year, one after the other, were the worst +that ever entered my doors; and they could all +read and write. What do you think of that? +O, my head! My head!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Nurse thought it was time that the draught +should be taken, and proposed to smooth the pillow, +and shade the light. This done, she wound +up the lady’s watch, and sat down behind the +curtain, in hopes that the patient would sleep. +Of this, however, there seemed but little chance. +Mrs. Arruther tossed about, and groaned out her +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.18'>18</span>wonder why she could not go to sleep like other +people, till nurse was obliged to take notice, and +ask whether there was anything that she could +do for her.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Do! yes, to be sure. Bring out the light +from wherever you have hidden it. It is hard +enough not to be able to go out and see things, as +I have done all my life till now; and here you +won’t let me see what is in my own room. Where +are you going to put the light? Not under that +picture. You know I can’t bear that picture. +And, mind, to-morrow morning——Bless me! +what do you lift up your hand in that manner +for?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Nurse could only beg pardon. She had made +an involuntary gesture of astonishment on hearing +that the lady could not bear that beautiful +picture of her own only son,—that picture which +represented him in his chubby boyhood, standing +at his mother’s knee, with hoop in hand. She +was told not to be troublesome with her wonder, +but to see that the picture was carried up into +the lumber garret to-morrow, and something put +in its place to hide its marks on the wall; anything +that would not stare down upon people as +they lay in bed, as that child’s eyes did. By +rousing the wearied maid, just as she was falling +asleep, nurse obtained a muslin apron, which, +when she stood on the table, she could hang over +the picture: and two or three pins, judiciously +applied below, obviated all danger of the veil +rising with any breath of air, so as to disclose +the features of the boy.</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_5.19'>19</span>“You had better take warning, and look to +your children in time, nurse, before they grow +up to plague you as my boy has plagued me.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>She had drawn back the curtain, and now +showed herself as much disposed for conversation +as if she had taken a waking instead of a sleeping +draught.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And you lay it all to education, ma’am? +You think the university to blame for it? Well! +’tis hard to say.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What put such a notion into your head? +Who ever dreams of objecting to the university +for gentlemen? You would not have my son +brought up as ignorant as a ploughboy; would +you? No, no. I have done my duty by him +in that way. He had the best-recommended +tutors I could get for him, and every advantage +at the university that was to be had; and the +best proof of what was done for him is the credit +he got there, and the prizes, and the reputation. +He is a very fine scholar. Nobody denies +that.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Nurse pondered the practicability of putting +the question she would have liked to have had answered; +whether learning had had the same effect +upon Mr. Arruther that the lady had anticipated +for Owen and Ambrose. Nurse would fain +know whether Mr. Arruther could wash his own +face, and put himself to bed.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Let us hope, ma’am, that the young gentleman +will live and learn. If he is not able to do +little things now, perhaps——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Little things! What sort of little things?”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_5.20'>20</span>“Well, ma’am, I thought if your late house-maids +could not polish the fire-irons, or make your +bed to your liking, and if you fear that my boys +should not keep themselves clean when I am +gone, because of their learning, perhaps.... But +indeed, when I once saw the young gentleman, +his gloves were as white as my apron, and the +sunshine came back from the polish of his boots. +I never saw a neater gentleman.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“He is a puppy,” replied the tender mother. +“I suppose it was that dandy show of his that +caught the eyes of the low creature he has married. +If I never get the better of this illness, +she shall have none of my clothes to wear. No +shopkeeper’s daughter shall be seen in the laces +my mother left to me. I had rather give some +of them to you, nurse, at once.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“God forbid, ma’am! What should I do with +laces? Such as I!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Very true. Now it is strange that a sensible +woman like you, who knows what is proper, +in her own case, should be so wrong about her +children. What have they to do with education +any more than you have with laces?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Nurse took refuge under the sanction of the +clergyman and of Mr. Waugh; and protested +that she had as little idea of sending Owen and +Ambrose to the university, as of asking that +Mildred should wear the lady’s family Valenciennes +and Mechlin.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Well; I wonder what it is that you would +have! I can’t make out what it is that you would +be at!”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_5.21'>21</span>“Ma’am, if I had all I wished for——but I +may as well be setting on a cup-full of broth to +warm, as I fancy you may take a liking to a +little, by-and-by.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The lady let nurse do this. When she was +tired of wondering whether she could take any +broth when it should be warm, she languidly +said,—</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Go on. What would you have for your +children? Pray remember what I have heard +you say yourself—that pride comes before a fall.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And a much greater one than I said that +before me, ma’am. But I would not have my +children made proud, because I should be sorry +they should fall below what they are. If I had +my wish, it would be that Owen should have +work at the mill as long as he lives, so as to be +pretty sure of eighteen shillings a week for a +continuance; and that he should marry such a +girl as Kate Jeffery, who would take as much +care of his house as I would myself; and that +they should never want for shoes and stockings +for their children’s feet. And much the same +for Ambrose.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Is that all? They might have all this without +reading and writing.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Perhaps so, ma’am; but Kate reads to her +grandfather of a Sunday evening, as I saw when +I passed to-night; and the neighbours think, +as well as I, that it is the boys that get on +best with their learning that go straightest to +their work; not swinging on the churchyard +gate, nor swearing, to get a look that they may +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.22'>22</span>make game of from grave people passing by. +As for Mildred, I don’t well know what to wish. +’Tis hard work for poor girls when they settle +and have their families early: but then, I should +be loth to leave her to live solitary in our cottage, +spending her days all alone upon the hills. +However, that will be as the Lord pleases. +Meantime, I should best like that fifteen years +hence, when the boys will be perhaps settled +away, my girl should be keeping our place clean +for me, and giving me her arm to church, and +helping me with her little learning when, as often +happens, I am at a loss to answer, for want of +knowing. I have no wish to be idle, I am sure. +I hope to knit her stockings and make her petticoats +still, if she will clean the cupboard out, +and entertain the clergyman better than I can +do.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The clergyman was not present to start the +inquiry whether such were the sum total of the +purposes for which spiritual beings were brought +into a world teeming with spiritual influences. +If he had been there, he might not, perhaps, +have got a curtsey from nurse by telling her that +her views were quite proper, and that she rightly +understood what to desire for her young folks. +Perhaps he might have thought little better of +Mrs. Arruther’s aspirations.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“My boy has cruelly disappointed me,” she +declared: “and yet I wished for no more than I +had a right to expect from him. I wished that +he should be a good scholar; and so he is. I +wished that he should have the looks and manners +of a gentleman.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_5.23'>23</span>“And sure, ma’am, so he has?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O yes: and I hoped to see him in parliament, +if it was only for once; and I carried this +point, and mean to carry it again, if I can. He +is in parliament with my money, and he shall +have enough for the next election. But there’s +an end. Instead of marrying as I wished, he +has taken up with a tradesman’s daughter; and +he may make the best of his bargain. Not an +acre of my land, nor a shilling of my money +that I can leave away, shall he have. If I am +disappointed in him, I will have my satisfaction. +I will do what I can to show people that they +should take care what they expect from their +children. He sha’n’t have all the laugh on his +side. He sha’n’t say for nothing that my behaviour +to him is unpardonable.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Nurse wondered whether at the university +they taught to forgive and forget. If they did, +perhaps the young gentleman would be bent +upon making up matters, if be thought himself +put upon; and then there might be a coming +round on the other side.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I don’t know what they do there about forgiving; +but I am sure they teach the young men +to forget. He never wrote to me above once, +the last year he was there; and that was for +money. And he never thought more of his +cousin Ellen, though I told him to marry her, +and requested him to send her down a lap-dog +like mine. When I asked him what he meant +by it, he said Ellen and all had entirely slipped +his memory. I told him my mind, pretty plainly; +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.24'>24</span>so I suppose it will slip his memory that I live +hereabouts, when he comes down to his election. +If he tries the gate——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, ma’am! You will not turn him away?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“No: it might cost him his election; and I +don’t wish that. I should miss my own name +from the newspapers then; and it would be hard +to lose my pleasure in the newspapers. I will +do nothing to hurt his election. He shall be let +in to see me; and then I will say to him, ‘All +that lawn and those fields, and all this house and +the plate would have been yours very soon, (for +I can’t live long,) if you had married your +cousin Ellen, as I bade you: but it is too late for +that now; and Ellen’s husband shall have every +——’—What do you look in that way for, nurse? +I am not going to leave it into another name. +Ellen’s husband shall take my name before he +touches a shilling.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And if a judgment should come upon us +meantime, ma’am. If the heathen should——Did +not you say there is to be a new election? +Is not that the same as the government getting a +new parliament?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“To be sure.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And that is done when a danger is thought +to be at hand, is not it?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Not always; and if it was, no harm can +come to my property. The deeds are all in +my lawyer’s hands,—in his strong-box,—safe +enough.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>It was plain that Mrs. Arruther knew nothing +about the approach of the Turks; and it would +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.25'>25</span>be cruel to tell her, when she might very likely +die before they appeared in Arneside.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What are you afraid of, nurse? I am sure +you are in a panic about something. It is too +soon for your boys to be marrying against your +will, I suppose?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Yes, thank God. And they will never be +able to marry so far below them as your young +gentleman may do; for the reason that they will +never stand so high as he. But yet I can fancy +that if my Owen took to a giggling jade, with +her hair hanging about her ears, and a sharp +voice, it would weigh heavy on my heart.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And your money would weigh light in his +pocket, hey?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I shall have no money to leave, ma’am; and +as to——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“No money to leave! I dare say. You never +will have money to leave while you throw away +your services as you do. I did wonder at you +last week, when you managed to find somebody +else to sit up with old Mr. Barnes, that you might +nurse Widow Wilks’s child. I saw beforehand +what would come of it. The child died, just the +same as if you had been with Mr. Barnes; and +you missed your chop, and brandy and water, +and the handsome pay you would have had; and +Mr. Barnes is a nice, mild old gentleman, that +you might have been glad to nurse. I thought +you knew your duty to your children better than +to waste your services in any such way.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Nurse was very sorry the lady was displeased +with what she had done. She had acted for the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.26'>26</span>best, thinking what an aggravation it would be +of the weary widow’s grief for her child if she +fancied, after its death, that it might have been +saved by good nursing. Having acted for the +best, she hoped her children would not remember +these things against her when she was gone.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You seem to be always thinking how things +will be after you are gone. What will all that +signify when you are cold in your grave?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“It seems natural, ma’am, when one has children +to care for. I hardly think that God gives +us children only that we may play with them +while they sprawl about and amuse us, and make +use of them while they are subject to our wills, +having no steady one of their own. I think, by +the yearning that mothers have after their sons +and daughters when they are grown up into men +and women, that it must be meant for us to keep +a hold over their hearts when they have done +acting by our wills. And so, when I talk of +what is to happen when I am gone, it is with the +feeling that I dare not go and appear before God +without doing my best to have my children think +of me as one that tried to do her duty by God +and them.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But if Owen married as you said, how +should he, for one, think pleasantly of you?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Indeed I am afraid the thought of his folly +would rankle. But my endeavour would be to +make the lightest and best of what could not be +helped. I would tell him that there could be no +offence to me in his judging for himself in a case +where nobody has a right to judge for him; and +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.27'>27</span>I should make no difference between him and +the rest. My father’s bible is, as they know, to +go to the one that can read in it best when I am +on my death-bed; and the other few things are +to be equally divided. My girl is to have my +spinning-wheel; and the deal table will be +Owen’s; and the chair and three stools——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Those things are to your children, I suppose, +much the same as my lawn and this house to my +son?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I dare say they would be, ma’am; and, in +some sense, all property that is left by the dying +to the living seems to be much alike, whether it +be great, or whether it be little. To my mind, +it is not so much the use of a legacy to give +pleasures to those that can enjoy little pleasure +when a parent or other near friend is taken away, +as to leave the comfort of feeling that the departed +wished to be just and kind. It is all very +well, you see, that my girl should have the use +of my spinning-wheel; but if it was made of +King Solomon’s cedar wood, Mildred’s chief +pleasure would be to think, while she spun, that +I remembered her kindly when I lay dying; and +for this, a spinning-wheel does as well as a room +full of pictures, or a mint of money. And when +I see a family quarrelling and going to law about +their father’s legacies, I cannot but think how +much better it would be for them if each of the +daughters had but a spinning-wheel, and each of +the sons neither more nor less than a deal table, +or the chair their father sat in.—But,” lowering +her voice, “here am I chattering on without +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.28'>28</span>thinking, while you are just asleep, which I am +glad to see.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Whether from a disposition to sleep, or from +some other cause, Mrs. Arruther’s eyes were +closed; and she did not move while nurse once +more softly drew the curtain. When, in the silence, +nurse began to consider what, in the fullness +of her heart, she had been saying, she was +thunderstruck at her own want of good manners +in uttering what must have seemed intended for +a reproof to the lady about her conduct to her +son. Her heart beat in her throat as one sentence +after another of her discourse came back +upon her memory. What was she that she +should be lecturing Mrs. Arruther?—But perhaps +the lady had been too drowsy to listen. It was +to be hoped so, rather than that she should suppose +that nurse was paying her off for her opposition +to the children’s going to the school.</p> + +<p class='c001'>When sufficiently composed for the nightly +duty which she never omitted, nurse added to her +usual prayers the petition that this suffering lady +might be spared till she could see clearly what it +was just that she should do towards the son who +had displeased her. Before she had finished, +there was another movement, and a mutter of +“O dear!” from within the curtain.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I hoped you had been asleep, ma’am. Can’t +you find rest?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“No, nurse; but you cannot help that. I +will see my lawyer to-morrow. It is too late to be +thinking about wills to-night. But I don’t believe +I shall sleep a wink to-night. Do you take that +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.29'>29</span>broth, nurse. I cannot bear the thought of it. +It prevents my getting to sleep. I believe I shall +never close my eyes all night.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Nurse really thought she would, if she would +only take the other draught, and settle her mind +to trouble herself about nothing till to-morrow.</p> + +<h3 id='ch5.3' class='c012'><span class='sc'>Chapter III.</span><br> <br>LESSONS ON THE HILLS.</h3> + +<p class='c017'>“Fetch down a plate from the cupboard, Ambrose, +and cover up the beer, while I cut the +cheese. I suppose we may have a quarter of the +cheese, as mother said,” observed Mildred to +Ambrose, as the early sun was peeping in through +the upper panes of the cottage lattice the next +morning.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Yes; we may have the quarter. I was at +the shop before the first shutter was down. +Here—here’s a plate for Mr. Ryan’s cheese. +We will carry ours in the paper I brought it in. +How shall I keep puss from getting at the things? +Is not that Mr. Ryan stirring?—Mr. Ryan! Mr. +Ryan!” (calling through the door.) “Please to +look to your breakfast here, that the cat does not +get it. We are going now; and Owen is gone +to the mill; and mother is not home yet.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Off with you, lad!” answered Ryan from +within. “Leave the cat to me. And if you can +pick up any rags for me among the briers, you +know I always give honest coppers for them; +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.30'>30</span>and yet more for tarred ropes, if such an article +comes in your way.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Tarred ropes! How should we get them? +If tar by itself would do, I could help you to +some of that. The shepherds always keep tar +against the shearing. Would tar by itself do?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The loud laugh from within showed Ambrose +that he had said something foolish; and he +hastily departed, supposing that Mr. Ryan had +been making a joke of him.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Cool and moist as all had been in the valley +as they passed, the children found that the dew +was gone from the furze-bushes on the hills, and +that the sun was very warm.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What had we better do?” asked Mildred, +contemplating the yellow cheese, which began to +shine almost as soon as she opened the paper. +“Shall we eat it directly? I think I am beginning +to be very hungry; are not you? And +it will be half melted, and the bread dry, if we +carry it about in the sun.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Mother said we were to keep the sheep for +a couple of hours first,” was Ambrose’s reply. +“And besides, I have some leaves to get for +her; and they won’t be fit if I let them stay till +the dew is off; and it is off already, except under +the shady side of the bushes. Put the breakfast +under the shady side of this bush; I’ll look to +it.—Do you go about and get some rags, if you +can find any. The briers and hedges are the +most likely places.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“There won’t be any Turks under the hedges, +will there?” asked Mildred, lowering her voice.</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_5.31'>31</span>“I don’t know. I don’t rightly know what +Turks are; but if anything happens amiss, call +out loud to me, and I’ll come. Go; make haste. +The sheep are quiet enough.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And how are we to know when two hours +are over?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“We must each guess, I suppose; and if we +don’t agree, we’ll draw lots with a long spike of +grass and a short one. The long one for me, +you know, because I’m the eldest.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>In forty minutes, both were agreed that two +hours were over; and each complimented the +other on the fruits of the morning’s work. Ambrose +exhibited a handful of leaves, which he +placed under a big stone, that they might not be +blown away; and Mildred brought the foot of a +worsted stocking, which she had found in a ditch; +a corner of a blue cotton handkerchief with white +spots, which had been impaled on a furze bush; +and a bit of white linen as large as the palm of +her little hand, with twenty holes in it. How +many coppers would Ryan be likely to give her +for this treasure?</p> + +<p class='c001'>Ambrose rejected the worsted article, to which +his sister gave a sigh as she saw it thrown +backwards among a group of sheep, who scampered +away in their first terror, but soon gathered +together to look at the fragment. The other +two might be worth the third part of a farthing, +if Mr. Ryan should be in a liberal mood, Ambrose +thought.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I wonder how much paper they will make,” +Mildred observed. “Mr. Ryan says they are +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.32'>32</span>to go into his sack with the rest of his rags, for +paper. Mother did not tell you what she wanted +the leaves for, I suppose?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“No; and I sha’n’t ask her. Do you ever +hear people talk about what mother makes?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Why, yes; I do. Molly at Mrs. Arruther’s +was telling the gipsy woman one day about +mother; and she said she had some strange +secrets. And then they asked me what one thing +meant, and another. But they did not mean me +to hear all they said, any more than Mrs. Dowley +when she winked at her husband, and glanced +down at mother’s apron where some green was +peeping out: but it was only cabbage that time. +They all think her a very wise doctor.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“How they do send after her when they are +ill! Mr. Yapp said one day that she would be +wise to bring up one of us to be a doctor after +her: but Mrs. Dowley was there then, and she +said it could not be, because mother’s was of the +nature of a gift that could not be taught.—Here +is your other bit of cheese. Will you have it +now, or keep it till dinner?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mildred had intended to reserve part of her +cheese for dinner; but having now nothing particular +to do, and the sheep offering nothing which +required her attention, the whole of the delicacy +at length disappeared, crumb by crumb. Then +she lay back, looking at a flight of birds that +now met, now parted, now crossed each other in +all directions, high in the air. Ambrose meanwhile +stretched himself at length, with his face to +the ground, watching a hairy brown caterpillar, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.33'>33</span>which he took the liberty of bringing back with +a gentle pinch by the tail, as often as it flattered +itself that it was getting beyond his reach. He +presently wished that they had a pair of scissors +with them.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Won’t the knife do as well?” Mildred languidly +inquired.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“No. I want to cut off the creature’s hair.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What creature?” asked Mildred, starting up, +but seeing no creature with hair, but a remote +donkey and herself.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Here: this young gentleman,” replied her +brother, exhibiting the writhing caterpillar on the +palm of his brown hand. Well might the creature +feel uncomfortable; for this hand which had +carried cheese must have been far from fragrant, +in comparison with the thyme-bed on which the +poor caterpillar had been disporting himself. What +Ambrose wanted was to see whether it would +come out a common green caterpillar, when +stripped of its long sleek hairs. The process of +plucking was tried in the absence of scissors: +but the material was too fine. The knife was +next applied, but the creature was destined never +to be shaven and shorn. A slip of the knife cut +it in two, and fetched blood on Mildred’s finger +at the same time. The perturbation thus caused +completely awakened her, and she was ready for +the sport of shepherd and shepherd’s dog. For +a very long time, Ambrose supported his dignity +of shepherd. He strapped himself round with +his sister’s pinafore and his own for a plaid; took +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.34'>34</span>long steps; wielded a thick stick, and made +grand noises to the flock; while Mildred went on +all fours till her back was almost broken, and +barked all the while, like any dog. The sheep +were silly enough to scud before her to the very +last, as much alarmed as at first, till she was +obliged to stop to laugh at them. All play must +come to an end; and by-and-by the children +were stretched, panting, on the very spot where +they had breakfasted. To panting succeeded +yawning; and it began to occur to both that they +had yet a long day to pass before the sheep would +be penned. It was against the rules of their employment +that both should sleep at the same +time; and, as Mildred could not keep awake, it +was necessary for her brother to watch. She was +not, as usual, wakened by his calling out so loud +to some of his charge as to rouse her before her +dream was done. She finished it, opened her +eyes, sat up and stretched herself; and Ambrose +was too busy to take notice.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I had such a queer dream!” observed Mildred.—Her +brother did not hear.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I say, Ambrose, I dreamt that I was sorting +rags at the mill, and there was a caterpillar +upon every one of them; and—What have you +got there, Ambrose? Did you hear what I said?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Come here,” replied her brother. “Here is +a story! Help me to make it out.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“A story! what, upon the very piece of paper +that held the cheese! What is the story like? +Tell me. You know I can’t read so well as +you.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_5.35'>35</span>“But you can help me with this part, perhaps. +I will tell you what I have read when I know this +word. The man would not go in somewhere; +and this word tells where.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mildred pored over the soiled piece of print, +and pronounced presently that the word in question +signified something about a comb. In her +spelling-book, c-o-m-b spelled comb. But of +the rest of the word,—“inat,”—“in,”——“What +could it be?</p> + +<p class='c001'>“It ends with ‘nation.’ ‘Comb’—‘nation.’ +Well: I must let that alone. There was a man +that would not go into this place,—whatever it is,—and +the people that were in it were angry because +he went to his work.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Because he did not go to his work, I suppose +you mean.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“No; because he would go when they bade +him not. And they watched for him one day +when he was going to work, and his little boy +with him. They call him a little boy, though he +was eleven years old. They flew upon the man, +and thumped him and kicked him as hard as ever +they could. And when the boy cried, and begged +they would not use his father so cruelly, one of +them caught up a thick rope, and beat the boy +till it was a shocking sight to see him.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“They were cruel wretches. I wonder whether +there was anybody near to go for the constable? +Did they get a constable?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I suppose so, for the people were asked how +they dared to beat people so.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And what did they say?”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_5.36'>36</span>“This that I can’t make out, about going in +and not going in: but they got a good scolding,—and +that is as far as I have got.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“See what is to be done to them, and whether +there is anything more about the boy.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Another half-hour’s spelling and consultation +revealed that the child had pulled one of the +assailants down by the leg, and thus turned the +fury of the man upon himself; that it was doubtful +whether the boy would recover; and that, +this being the case, the decision of the magistrates +was that——</p> + +<p class='c001'>Here came the jagged edges of the torn newspaper, +instead of the magistrates’ decision. This +was very disagreeable indeed. Not to know what +became of the aggressors, and whether the brave +boy lived or died, was cruel. Ambrose threw +away the paper, and grew cross. Mildred’s consolations,—that +very likely the boy was well by +this time, and she had no doubt the cruel people +were put in prison,—were of no use. A better +device than to imagine the issue suggested itself +to Ambrose. He would go and ask Mr. Yapp. +The paper having come from Mr. Yapp’s shop, +he no doubt knew the end of the story. Could +not Mildred look after the flock while he ran +down now? No harm could come to the sheep +during the little time that he should be gone.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mildred did not like this plan,—was sure her +mother would not like it. Ambrose had better +read the story over again, to try and understand +it better; and she would go with him to Mr. +Yapp’s when the flock was penned, in the evening. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.37'>37</span>Never did the oriental scholar pore more +diligently over a new tablet of hieroglyphics than +these two children over the fragment of a police +report which had fallen in their way. To no +scholar can it be so important to ascertain a +doubtful point of history, or to develope facts of +the costume and manners of a remote people, as +it was to these young creatures to learn the issue +of a case in which rights like their own were +invaded, and filial sympathies like their own were +aggrieved.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Again, during the day, Ambrose called to his +sister that he had something to say to her, and +Mildred knew that it must relate to the story he +had read, so complete was the possession it had +taken of his mind. He thought the people round +were great fools for not punishing the aggressors +on the spot. If he had been there, he would not +have waited to hear what the magistrates said; +not he. He would have knocked down every +one of them that he could get at, if it were by +pulling by the leg as the poor boy had done.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And then,” said Mildred, “they would have +served you the same as the boy; and if anybody +had taken your part, they would have served him +the same. I don’t think that would do any +good.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Nothing like a battle,” exclaimed Ambrose, +waving his cap over his head. “I like a good +battle better than all the justices and gentlemen +in the world.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I don’t like battles,” Mildred observed. “I +do not much mind seeing you and Sam Dobbs +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.38'>38</span>fight here on the heath, where you only throw +one another down, and the grass is too soft to +hurt you. But I saw the men fight before the +Rose; and one of them lifted the other up high +into the air, and dashed him down slap upon the +pavement; and you might have heard the knock +of his head as far as the pump, I’m sure. There +was such a quantity of blood that I could not eat +my supper! I should not like to see such a +battle often!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, only tell me when anybody does you any +harm, and see how I will fight for you.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I am sure I shall not tell anything about it, +if you go and fight in that manner. I would +ask mother or Owen to go with me to Justice +Gibson. If you consider, there would be fighting +all day long in our place, and much more in +L——, if all people chose to battle it out instead +of going to the Justice. And besides, I think +the Justice can take much better care of this poor +little boy than anybody that just fought a battle +for him, and then went away.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Ambrose saw this; and before dinner was over, +both the children had learned, after their own +fashion, how far superior law is to vengeance, +and security to retaliation. Confined as their +ideas were (the picture of their own little village +and few associates alone being before their eyes), +this was a most important notion to have acquired. +There needed only the experience of +life to enable them to extend their conceptions,—Justice +Gibson standing for the magistracy at +large, and the little village of Arneside for social +life in general.</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_5.39'>39</span>Evening came. The sheep were penned, and +the children were standing before Mr. Yapp’s +shop-door, pushing each other on to the feat of +asking the grocer for the rest of the story. They +saw Mr. Yapp’s eyes turned on them once or +twice; but they could not get courage to make +use of the opportunity. It was Mr. Yapp himself +who at last brought on the crisis.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Come, younkers,” said he, “make your way +in or make your way off. Don’t stand in my +door, preventing people coming in.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mildred moved off; Ambrose bolted in; and +then his sister came up to reinforce him. As +the grocer had nothing very particular to attend +to at the moment, he did not crush the aspiration +for knowledge. He directed the children to the +package of paper from which their fragment had +been taken, and looked over the story himself. +It would have been too long a task for such poor +scholars to seek for what they wanted by reading. +To compare the jagged edges of the paper was a +much readier method; and Mildred did this, +while Mr. Yapp gave her brother some imperfect +idea (for he was not learned on the subject) what +a Combination was, and why a man was ill-treated +for not entering into one. This was worth +coming for; but it was all. Mildred’s search +was unsuccessful. The rest of the story was irrecoverable. +Many customers, some from distant +farms and cottages, had been at the shop to-day; +and it was impossible to say who had carried +it off.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Ambrose begged for his paper back again. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.40'>40</span>There was something on the other side that he +wanted to show to Owen.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Let’s see,” said Mr. Yapp. “Why, this +looks like magic,—all these waves, and dashes, +and dots, and signs. O, ho! it is short-hand, I +see. Somebody advertises to teach short-hand. +There, take it to Owen, and see what he makes +of it.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Ambrose turned the paper about, but could +see nothing like a hand. What could be meant +by short-hand?</p> + +<p class='c001'>A way of writing short, he was told; and he +remained as wise as he was before. But now +Miss Selina Yapp, who stood smiling behind the +counter, was desired to give the children half-a-dozen +raisins apiece; and it was quite time to +be going home.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Their mother was looking out for them from +the door.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Why, mother, are you going to be out again +to-night? Sure the lady must be very bad!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I am not going to the lady till morning, +dears. ’Tis poor neighbour Johns I am now +going to. Sadly sunk he is; and his old woman +is nigh worn out. So I’ve made my bit of a bed +fit for her here; and it is full time she was in it. +So, troop to bed, dears. Get your suppers while +ye undress; and be as still as mice, sleeping or +waking, when she comes in. Put your learning +away till to-morrow, Owen, my boy. Pussy +won’t eat your paper before morning, I dare say, +if you put it where it will be safe. You’ve had +your supper; so now to bed, my boy. You’ll be +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.41'>41</span>fresh all the earlier in the morning. But be +sure you put on your shoes the last thing, lest +you should wake the old woman with your +clatter.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Owen’s eye had been completely caught by the +mysterious figures of the short-hand specimen. He +held it between his teeth while he undressed, and +went on looking at it by the twilight, after he was +in bed, till his brother and sister had done talking; +and then he put it under his bolster. Ambrose, +meantime, stuffed his mouth with his supper very +indefatigably, and yet managed to get out his +story of the little boy who had been beaten for +defending his father. Following his mother +about wherever she moved, he made her mistress +of the whole before he had done.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mrs. Ede was not disappointed at their saying +nothing about her sitting up again to-night. To +them, it was so much a matter of course that she +should sit up professionally, and to her that she +should do what she could for a needy and suffering +neighbour, that the circumstance did not seem +worthy of remark. All were more occupied with +Mildred’s disappointment. It was feared that +Mr. Ryan was gone from the village this evening, +and that he would not come on his rounds again +for half-a-year. He had himself bid Mildred look +for rags; and now he was gone before she came +home! Her bits of blue and white must stand +over till he appeared again; for Owen did not +think any money would be given for them at the +mill. Nurse stayed yet five minutes longer, to +comfort her little daughter under this mischance; +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.42'>42</span>and within that five minutes, all three were sound +asleep.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Bless their little faces, how pretty they all +do look!” thought the mother. “’Tis almost a +pity to leave such a pretty sight. I wonder which +of them will stand so by me, when I am old and +failing like neighbour Johns; if it should please +God I should live till then. But, dear me, what +a puckered old face mine will be then!—little +like their smooth rosy cheeks. ’Tis a cheerless +thing for two old folks to be left without children, +unfit to take care of one another, like poor +neighbour Johns and his dame; and yet worse it +would be for me that have laid my husband in his +grave so long ago. But if God spares me my +little ones, and my girl stays near me, I need +not care what else betides. Bless them! how +sweetly they do breathe in their sleep! And +now, I must go and send the dame to her bed. +I trust she will be thoughtful not to wake the +children; and I’m sure they will be thoughtful +towards her in the morning.”</p> + +<h3 id='ch5.4' class='c012'><span class='sc'>Chapter IV.</span><br> <br>SIGNS IN THE SKY.</h3> + +<p class='c017'>A few years passed away, and Mrs. Ede was in +possession of the blessings she prayed for. Her +children were all spared to her, in health, and, +by her and their own industry, secured from +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.43'>43</span>want. Upon the whole, she had reason to be +satisfied with them, though there was a wider +difference in their characters and attainments than +she could have wished to see. She did not grow +restless about what, she supposed, came by nature. +She concluded it to be God’s will that +Owen should be “as sharp as a briar,” active in +his business, ready about bringing home things +pleasant and wonderful to hear, and looked upon +by his employer and the village at large as a +rising youth who would one day be a credit to +his native place. Nurse concluded it to be God’s +will that Owen should be thus, while his brother +and sister were far from being like him. What +had made them dull she scarcely knew; unless it +was being out so much on the hills without companions, +or anything to do but to look after the +flock, and knit. They had lost their little learning +sadly, and did not now like going to the Sunday-school, +as they forgot during the week what they +had learned the Sunday before, and became +ashamed of growing so tall while they knew so +little of what was looked for in a Sunday-school. +At home, too, it was a great temptation to nurse +to apply to Owen when she wanted to speak about +anything that interested her, or to have any little +business transacted: he comprehended so much +more readily, observed so much more justly, and +sympathised so much more warmly than his brother +and sister. But nurse was very conscientious +about making no differences in her treatment of +her children; and she took pains to bring forward +the younger ones, continually saying to herself, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.44'>44</span>how very steady Ambrose was, and how thankful +she ought to be for a daughter who, like Mildred, +made no difficulty of doing whatever she was +asked, as soon as she understood what was meant.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Contented as she thought it her duty to be, +nurse could not be otherwise than rejoiced when +a change took place in the family arrangements, +which seemed to open to Ambrose some of the +advantages which his brother had enjoyed. Owen +had risen from sorting rags in the mill to offices +of higher trust, and requiring greater accomplishments +than were necessary for the lowest operation +of paper-making. He was now made a +superior personage in the mill. It was his business +to superintend some processes of the manufacture; +to give the necessary notice to the exciseman +when any paper had to be changed, or +to be reweighed by the supervisor before it was +sent out for sale; to see that the excise laws were +observed as to the lettering of the different rooms, +and the numbering of the engines, vats, chests, +and presses; to remind his employer when the +time approached for purchasing the yearly license; +and (fearful responsibility!) to take charge of +the labels which were to be pasted upon every +ream. Nurse used to call Ambrose to listen, +and say how he should like such a charge, when +Owen related that if one label should be lost, his +employer would be liable to a penalty of 200<i>l.</i>; +and that, as it was necessary to Mr. Waugh’s +convenience to purchase five hundred labels at a +time, the destruction of one lot would subject +him to be fined 100,000<i>l.</i></p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_5.45'>45</span>Owen rather enjoyed his responsibility; and, +with a new sense of dignity, set about his studies +in his leisure hours with more zeal than ever.—What +was better, he entered with all possible +earnestness into his mother’s project of getting +his brother into the mill before his honest influence +with Mr. Waugh was exerted for any other object. +Mr. Waugh had not the least objection to make +trial of another son of Mrs. Ede’s. He had +heard that the lad was not over-bright; but he +could but try; and if he did not succeed, there +were still flocks to be kept on the heath as before. +So Ambrose, with a smile on his sun-browned +face, made ready, the next Monday morning, +to set forth, with his brother, for the mill.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“If you find it rather close,” said his mother +to him, “being under a roof from six o’clock to +six——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But I am to come out for breakfast and dinner, +mother.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I was going to say, you can get a good deal +of air in the two hours allowed for meals. And +you won’t think much of the air on the hills +when you have so much company about you. +Think of there being thirty men in the mill, and +ten women, besides the children! You can +never be dull; and you must bring me home the +news, as Owen always did.—The dullness will +be for Mildred, when she has not you for a companion +any longer. I say, Mildred, my dear; +you must take care and not lose your tongue.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mildred did not know that she should have +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.46'>46</span>anything to say all day, except calling to the +sheep.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Why, my dear, I have been thinking that +you and Ambrose have never made yourselves +sociable with other young shepherds, as they +used to do in my father’s time. There must be +plenty, I am sure, from end to end of yonder +hills; and why should you keep within such a +narrow range as you have kept hitherto? The +sheep and you have legs to carry you farther; +and you have eyes to keep your flock from mixing +with another. Why should not you join +company with somebody that may be sitting +knitting like you, all alone, and wishing for a +chat?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“There’s Maude Hallowell of the next parish, +just above the Birchen dale; but that’s a long +way off,” replied Mildred.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“A long way! Well, I wonder what’s the +use of young limbs, to call the Birchen dale a +long way! Try it, my dear; and tell Maude +that she should come over to your side in her +turn. But she won’t see such a sight as you may +see, if the day be clear, when you come to the +high point of the ridge over Birchen dale. How +I once saw the sea glistening, miles off, through +a gap of the hills!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And the island, mother?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Why, no. The island lies off there, they +tell me; but it was too far away, I fancy, for me +to see it. But, do you try, when you go to look +for Maude Hallowell.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_5.47'>47</span>The Isle of Man was spoken of with great affection +by the people here, as untaxed islands +usually are by their neighbours of a taxed country. +Many were the little secret privileges enjoyed +throughout this district, even as far as the village +of Arneside,—privileges of participation in various +good things slily brought from the island, +in opposition to all the preaching of the wine-merchants +and wholesale grocers of L——, and +in Arneside, of the clergyman and Mr. Waugh +the paper-maker. All the children attached ideas +of mystery to the island, which they perpetually +heard mentioned and had never seen; and the +getting any nearer to it,—the actually seeing the +sea amidst which it lay, was regarded as an approach +to the revelation of a great secret. Mildred +thought she should like to go and look for +Maude.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Nobody had imagined what an event these +promotions would prove to the whole family. It +brought more new ideas into their minds than all +their Sunday schooling had done.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Maude was something of a scholar in her way. +She might be found sitting in the heather, her +knees up to her chin, and her plaid drawn over +her head, poring over a particular sort of pamphlet, +which was the only work she was much disposed +to read. Her distaff lay on the ground +beside her, while she was studying; and when +she took it up, she was apt to look into the sky, +or far out seawards, instead of minding her +spinning. She invariably started when Mildred +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.48'>48</span>laid a hand on her shoulder, or shouted on approaching +her.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Why, Maude, what makes your eyes look so +big to-day?” asked Mildred, one sultry afternoon, +after having led her flock to a place where +she might possibly find a scanty shade under a +birch.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“My eyes? I’m sure I don’t know,” replied +Maude, winking, as if to reduce her eyes to their +natural dimensions. “I don’t know what ails +my eyes. But I’ve such a thing to tell you! It +takes away my breath to think of it.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“The heat’s enough for that. The hill-breeze +has hied away, and it is as hot——Me! I wish +the clouds would come up.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“There will be clouds enough by-and-bye, or +water enough at least,—clouds or no clouds,” +Maude solemnly averred. “Has your mother +told you anything about the comet?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“No. If it is anything bad, I doubt whether +she knows it; for she was merry enough, this +morning.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Merry enough, I dare say. Not know it! +These are not the sort of things your mother +does not know, as I heard a person say last night. +Do but you ask her about the comet, in a natural +way, and see what she will say. No, don’t ask +her. Safer not. I’ll tell you.—You see this +book. If you will believe me, there is a comet +coming up as fast as it can come, and it will raise +a flood that will drown——O Mildred, ’tis awful +to think of.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_5.49'>49</span>“What will it drown? Not our poor sheep?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Our sheep and us too. My dear, the sea +will come pouring through that gap, and fill up +all below, and leave us no footing on all these +hills.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Mercy, Maude! I must go and tell my +mother; my poor mother!” exclaimed Mildred, +starting up from her blossomy seat.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Your mother will be safe enough,” Maude +replied constrainedly.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Safe! How? Why?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ahem!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Now, Maude, do tell me what you mean. +Are you sure?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Yes, that I am; and you may know when +it is coming, by the signs. The book tells the +signs; but you must hold your tongue about +them, the book says, for fear of bringing on the +whole sooner than it need. There will be black +storms coming up first, with thunder and lightning. +That is to be this summer, while the stars +stand in a particular way. I’m going to stay +out late to-night, to see how the stars stand. +You’ll bide with me, Mildred?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mildred shivered as she reminded her companion +how far she had to travel home: but Maude +insisted that it would be necessary to see how +the stars stood, in order to find out afterwards +when they began to move on and cross each +other. But before the three great stars came +together in the sky, a cruel enemy was to rise +up against the land, and there were to be some +dreadful battles. This revived Mildred’s old +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.50'>50</span>terrors about the Turks; and Maude looked +more solemn than ever when she heard how +many years it was since nurse Ede had expected +the Turks. By a natural association of ideas, +Maude went on to explain that those who were +in the confidence of the unseen powers, and who +might be said to have brought on these judgments, +would be in no danger. They would be +safe amidst the storm they had raised, floating +on the surface of the flood like straws; while +all others, as far as the flood should extend, +would, it was strongly apprehended, be drowned, +unless they made use of “the precautions recommended +in the supplement to this pamphlet; sold, +&c. &c.” Those who were to be preserved would +have warning of the approach of the crisis by a +tingling in the ancles, while the careless and +confident would have another warning given +them by a slight, dull pain near the nape of the +neck. So, Mildred was to keep watch for any +thing her mother might say about her ancles, +and to take fright directly if she felt anything +about the nape of her own neck.</p> + +<p class='c001'>When she was sufficiently recovered to lay +hold of the book, she found that it was a very +curious-looking book indeed, with a great number +of little moons and stars, and the picture of +a wise man, and of a large comet with a fiery +tail. She could not but believe now all that +Maude had told her.</p> + +<p class='c001'>How they were to get the other information,—about +preserving themselves,—was the next +question. This book had come over from the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.51'>51</span>island; but not direct into Maude’s hands. It +had found its way over the moors from shepherd +to shepherd; and no one now seemed to know +to whom it belonged, and who might be expected +to procure the supplement. Owen, who +had so much to do with paper, and who knew +all about printing and books, was certainly the +best person to apply to; and Mildred earnestly +begged the loan of the pamphlet, that she might +show it to him.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ah, if I might!” replied Maude: “but +William Scott is to have it next; and then +Bessy is to show it to her father. I dare not let +it go direct to your brother; but when the others +have done with it——I’ll quicken them in the +reading, and then hide it under yonder big stone. +See, here is a dry chink where nobody will think +of prying. You may find the book here, early +next week. But, for your life, don’t let Owen +show it. If he goes and blabs, there is no saying +what will become of us all.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mildred did not know what worse could befall +than, according to the book, must happen at all +events; and she thought Owen might as well be +trusted as the many people who were already +acquainted with the prophecy.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I wish,” observed Maude, “the book said +which quarter the first storms would come up +from.” And as she spoke she looked towards +the sea.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ah, how black it is there!” Mildred anxiously +observed. “It is coming up for—for—rain. +Don’t you fear so? O Maude, let us be +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.52'>52</span>gone! Maude, do, for pity sake, go part of the +way home with me.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Impossible. Maude must make the best of +her way to her own home. If Mildred made +haste, she might perhaps get to Arneside before +the clouds burst. And this affectionate friend +hied down the hill as fast as she could, saying +she should send one of her brothers to look after +the sheep. The companion whom she had terrified +to the utmost was left to shift for herself +and her flock. The cry of “Maude! O Maude!” +followed her far on her way; but she only turned +and waved her hand, to advise her friend to make +haste homewards.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mildred’s flock did not seem to have observed +the signs of the sky. It was still bright +sunshine where they cropped the sweet grass; +and they were unwilling to leave their pasture. +Mildred had never known them so slow in their +obedience; and when, at last, the overcast sky +conveyed to them that a storm was coming, they +only huddled together, instead of moving on, +and began to bleat and frighten one another in a +very piteous way. Mildred began to cry a little +in her flutter; but probably the sheep did not +find it out; for it made no difference in their +proceedings. Their mistress was not long in +deciding that she must leave them to their own +wills, and take care of herself; and a crack of +thunder, nearly over head, confirmed her resolution. +On she pressed, along the ridge where +there seemed to be no more air than in the closest +thicket in the dale. She panted with heat so +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.53'>53</span>violently that she was compelled to stop, though +chased by thunder-clouds, and dreading above +all things to encounter the lightning alone. It +came in broad sheets of flame, and not a drop of +rain yet to put it out; as Mildred would have +said. When she reached the point of the ridge +from which she must turn into her own valley, +she cast one more glance behind her towards her +flock. She had never seen the hills look as they +did to-day. Their tops were shrouded in darkness; +and in the bottom all was nearly as murky +as if the sun had long set. The flock might just +be seen in a cluster below the mists upon the +russet hill-side. At the moment when Mildred +discovered them, the clouds seemed to open, and +let out a stream of blue flame upon them. She +shrieked; but there was no one to hear her. In +another instant, the poor animals were seen +scattered far apart; and their mistress believed +that she saw one stretched on its side; the only +one now on the spot from which they had just +fled. She loved every individual sheep of her +flock, more or less; but she could not at present +tarry to see which she had lost. She scudded +on, tossed in mind as to whether she should go +home, or stop at some friendly house in the village. +Her mother’s presence had formerly been +her refuge whenever she was frightened; but +now she hesitated between a desire to see what +nurse said about the storm, and a dread lest she +should have had something to do with it. She +might have left the point to be settled by circumstances.</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_5.54'>54</span>It was impossible to walk the whole way with +her hands before her eyes. The next time she +looked up, she found that the clouds had been +too quick for her: the storm was now before +her. It seemed gathering about the village, and +the grey church looked almost white against the +murky back-ground. Another bolt fell,—fell +into the midst of the large yew in the churchyard, +under which Mrs. Arruther’s handsome monument +stood, looking almost new with its bright +iron rails round it. The tree was riven, as if by +magic. Mildred was too far off to hear the +crash; and to her it seemed as if the wide-spreading +tree had been reached by a finger of fire, at +whose touch it fell asunder, and bestrewed the +ground in a circle. In horror she turned her +back to the spectacle; and the dreadful recollection +came into her mind that some people said +mysteriously, that her mother had somehow obtained +great influence over Mrs. Arruther; and +others, that it might have been better for Mrs. +Arruther to have seen less of nurse Ede latterly. +At this moment, it seemed as if the storm had +been sent on a mission to Arneside churchyard; +for westward all was again bright; and the sea, +which was seldom distinguishable from this +point, lay like a golden line on the horizon. +Mildred could not but turn again to watch the +progress of the storm. On it sped over the hills, +giving out as yet no rain. It was a bleak and +dreary district which now lay beneath the mass +of clouds. A single farm, two miles from Arneside, +was the only visible habitation. Once more +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.55'>55</span>the lightning came down among the group of +buildings; and before it had travelled far, a +tinge of smoke rose among the barn roofs, and +a red glimmer succeeded, which Mildred considered +as kindled by some malicious power which +wrought its will through the elements. The rain +now pattered heavily on the crown of her head, +and she ran, far more swiftly than before, down +to the village. Instead of turning to her mother’s +house, she directed her steps through the village +street on her way to the mill. About the middle +of it she found Ambrose, standing very quietly +with his hands in his pockets, staring at a picture +which headed a bill pasted up against a dead wall.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Look at the fellow! going to fly off from +the sail of the windmill, with a flourish of his +long tail,” said Ambrose to a companion, as +Mildred came up. “I wonder what it means?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Why, read what it means, man; where’s the +use of your learning?” asked the other. “I +am sure those big black letters stare one in the +face so, they might of themselves almost teach a +child to read.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, but I lost my learning while I was a +shepherd. Mr. Waugh was right mad with me +the other day, because I could make nothing of +the directions of the parcels I had to sort out. +I have been getting up my reading a bit with +Owen this week; but you may as well tell me +what that fellow is with the long tail. I shall be +an hour making it out for myself.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Well, then: ’tis a little rogue of a devil +going out to see the world; and——”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_5.56'>56</span>“O, Ambrose, the storm!” cried his sister.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ay, the tree is down in the churchyard. I +have been seeing it; and here is a splinter I +brought away. Me! here comes the rain. A +fine pepper we are going to have.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I hope it will pepper hard enough. Farmer +Mason’s barns are on fire. Won’t you go and +help?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Who told you so?—Which barn?—How +did it get on fire?” and many other questions +which might wait till the next day, had to be +answered before anybody would stir to get the +key of the engine-house; and then, so many +youths ran foul of one another, and differed as +to where the key was deposited, and were each +bent on being the one to tell the clergyman, that +Mildred had given the alarm at the paper-mill +before anything effectual was done.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mr. Waugh and Owen were together in the +counting-house, looking at a pamphlet which +Mr. Waugh had just put into Owen’s hands.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“That’s the almanack, I do believe,” cried +Mildred. “O, I wanted so that you should see +that almanack.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mr. Waugh explained (Owen being too much +absorbed) that this was not an almanack, but a +tract which he was lending to Owen. Owen was +going to take it home, as he was very eager to +read it; but Mr. Waugh feared there would be +little in it to amuse any of the family besides. It +was not so entertaining, he feared, as an almanack +from the island: but he hoped Mildred had +nothing to do with those almanacks. It was not +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.57'>57</span>safe to have anything to do with them, as they +were against the law. It was all very well for +the island people to read them if they chose, as +they were not against the law there: but here +people were liable to be put in prison for them. +“Put in prison!” exclaimed Mildred, forgetting +for the moment her errand. Yes;—Mr. Waugh +knew of twenty-five people who had been sent to +gaol by one magistrate, in one month, for selling +these illegal almanacks.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I don’t believe Maude has sold one to anybody,” +Mildred thought aloud.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Well; tell her (whoever she is) that she had +better not. People should never sell an almanack +till they see that it bears a fifteen penny +stamp. The Government makes 27,000<i>l.</i> by the +almanack-duty; and the Government does not +like to be cheated of the duty. It is but a small +sum, certainly, to punish so many people for; +but let your friend Maude take care of the law. +No, no; your brother will tell you this is no +almanack; though it may tell him things nearly +as wonderful as he could find in any almanack. +Bless me! the people are crying fire!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, I forgot.” And Mildred explained what +she came for. The tract was thrust into Owen’s +pocket: the population of the mill was turned +out to help; and all Arneside was presently on +the road to farmer Mason’s.</p> + +<div> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_5.58'>58</span> + <h3 id='ch5.5' class='c012'><span class='sc'>Chapter V.</span><br> <br>OWEN AND X. Y. Z.</h3> +</div> + +<p class='c017'>From the moment that Owen saw the scrap of +short-hand which his brother and sister brought +home from the hills, he had taken to the study of +the art of short-hand writing. Mr. Waugh had +directed him to the clergyman as the person +most likely to give him information on the subject, +and to show him specimens. The clergyman +acknowledged that the short-hand he used was +not the best yet invented; and that perhaps the +best yet invented might not be nearly so good as +some one not yet devised. This was enough for +Owen to know, in order to excite him to enterprize. +By the help of his friends, he got possession +of three or four kinds, made his selection +of what he considered the best, and introduced +some important improvements. He tried his +success whenever he could find an opportunity. +Many were the curious conversations in the mill +which he took down for his own amusement; +and many the sermons which, to his mother’s +amazement, he read over to her, word for word, +on the Sunday evenings, when she had heard them +in the mornings. She was fast yielding to the +impression that her son Owen was now nearly as +wise as the clergyman.</p> + +<p class='c001'>In the tract which Owen thrust into his pocket +on the alarm of fire being given, there was an +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.59'>59</span>article about short-hand. Mr. Waugh had accidentally +met with it at L——, and had brought +it home for Owen. When farmer Mason’s house +and barns were all burnt to the ground, and no +more was to be done for him, Owen came back +to the counting-house to study this paper. Mr. +Waugh could not help being amused at the eagerness +with which he devoured the arguments about +dashes and dots, as if they had been tidings of +peace or war, or of the greatest political event of +the age. This was not the first time that Mr. +Waugh had had occasion to observe the animation +with which scantily-informed persons read what +is accordant with their particular tastes and pursuits. +He had seen a farm-servant, who happened +to be able to read, excited for a whole day +about some new way of managing a cow, or the +best method of treating a sheep’s fleece; and a +galloon weaver drinking in the news of the alteration +of a farthing a gross in the wages of his +manufacture. He had witnessed the effect of +such appropriate communications in rousing the +sluggish, in soothing the irritable, by turning +the course of their thoughts, and in improving +the arts of life, by stimulating the powers of the +workmen. He had seen none more eager than +Owen.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Sir,” said Owen, “I wonder whether I may +ask if you know who this X. Y. Z. is?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Not I,” replied Mr. Waugh, smiling. “I +only know that I found the article lying on the +bookseller’s counter; and that when I made a +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.60'>60</span>remark upon it, Muggridge told me I might +bring it for you. If you have anything to say to +X. Y. Z., cannot you say it without knowing who +he is?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I—say anything to this person! In print! +I should like—I am sure, if he knew one thing +that I could tell him——But, sir, do you really +think they would put in anything of mine, if I +sent it?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“That would much depend on whether they +thought it worth putting in. If you have anything +to say as good in the eyes of the editor as +what X. Y. Z. has said, I suppose the editor will +be glad to print it: but I hardly think such a tract +as this can pay the writers.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I never thought of being paid, sir! Let’s +see where this editor is to be found.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>It was soon settled that as Ambrose would +have to go to L—— in the course of a few days, +he might carry a packet from Owen to Muggridge, +the bookseller and stationer, who would +forward it, at Mr. Waugh’s request, to the editor’s +office in London. How absorbed was Owen, +from that time, whenever he was not at his business +in the mill! How silent at meals! How +careful in making his pens! It would be scarcely +fair to tell how many copies he made of his letter +to X. Y. Z., nor how many beginnings he invented +and altered. At last, he had to finish in a great +hurry; for the morning was come when Ambrose +must proceed to L, and there was no telling +how long it might be before he would have to go +again.</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_5.61'>61</span>“Now, Ambrose, you see this package of No. +2 has to go to Keely and Moss’s.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Very well,” said Ambrose, turning it over, +as if to fix its dimensions and appearance in his +memory.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You can’t mistake it, for I have printed the +direction instead of writing it, that you may have +no difficulty. See here! ‘Keely and Moss.’ This +little parcel you are to drop by the way, at Mrs. +King’s, near the toll-bar. Then, that other great +package is for Bristow and Son,—you know +where. And then comes Muggridge’s. This, +largest of all, is for Muggridge; and pray see +Mr. Muggridge himself, and give into his own +hands this little brown parcel with Mr. Waugh’s +letter outside. What makes you look so puzzled? +It is easy enough to carry these to their places, is +not it?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“If I can carry in my head which is which. +Let’s see: this big one——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Read the directions, and you can’t mistake. +Why should you burden your memory when the +names are before your eyes?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Ambrose showed that he could spell out the +names, and suggested that, if he should be at a +loss, he might ask each person to whom he delivered +a package to help him to make out where +the next was to go. He would try to be sure to +make no mistake about the little parcel and the +letter for Mr. Muggridge, and would not come +home without a line of acknowledgment from +that important personage himself.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Owen was so evidently fidgety during his brother’s +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.62'>62</span>absence, that his friend Mr. Waugh thought +it right to remind him that his fate did not altogether +depend on the parcel being safely delivered. +There were so few printed vehicles for +what such multitudes of people have to say, that +a very great number must be disappointed in their +wish to be heard. He owned that this was very +hard; he held that printed speech should be as +free as the words of men’s mouths, and as copious +as it was possible to make it. He had reason to +desire this; and he suffered not a little from the +arrangements which prevented the possibility of +its taking place.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Because more paper would be wanted then, +you mean, sir. I fancy, indeed, we might make +a fine business of it; if those troublesome excisemen +were out of our way. There is no saying +how low you might bring the price of your paper +if it were not for them.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“For them, and for the law which gives them +their office. The duty in itself, though the worst +part of the grievance, is bad enough,—from thirty +to two hundred per cent., and actually lower on +the fine paper, used by the few, than on the coarse, +which would be used by the many if it were not +for the tax. It is the coarse which pays the two +hundred per cent., and the fine that pays thirty. +It is bad enough that this duty amounts to more +than three times the wages of all the workpeople +employed in the manufacture.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Do you really believe that to be the case, +sir?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“It is pretty clearly made out, I fancy. There +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.63'>63</span>are within a few of 800 paper-mills in the kingdom; +and about 25,000 individuals employed +about the article; and the value of the paper annually +produced is between a million and a million +and a half. The duty levied on this is about +770,000<i>l.</i>;—a most enormous amount. The +wages of the workpeople can bear no kind of proportion +to it. How much more paper we should +make if this burden was removed, so as to allow, +as far as it goes, of freedom of printed speech, one +may barely imagine; or, if it is beyond our +imaginations, there is a person in my mill who can +tell us. You know the Frenchwoman there. She +will inform you how cheaply her countrymen and +countrywomen can have their say through the +press. The direct interference of the government +with the liberty of the press is, you know, +altogether a different question. Setting this aside, +there is a wonderful difference in the facilities +enjoyed by the French and English for the diffusion +of their knowledge and opinions.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Then I suppose others besides their paper-makers +are better off than we for being without +the duty. There must be far more printing to +do; and that would occupy, besides the printers, +more type-founders and ink-makers; and then +booksellers and stationers and binders and engravers; +then again, more carpenters and mill-wrights, +and workmen of every kind employed in +making the machinery and materials. It must +cause a vast difference between that country and +this, where we see a want of books on the one +hand, and a want of work on the other.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_5.64'>64</span>“Ay; your brother Ambrose and half-a-dozen +more, standing by the hour together before +a placarded wall, for want of something +better to read; and scores of rag-sorters and +vat-men applying to me for work which I should +be glad to give them if the paper-duty was off. +It is really grievous to think how few are employed +in the diffusion of knowledge, compared +with the numbers who are occupied to much less +useful purpose. Look here. This is a list made +out upon the best authority. See the proportion +which employments bear to one another here. +On the one side—<i>Literature</i>; on the other—<i>what</i>?</p> +<table class='table5'> +<colgroup> +<col class='colwidth53'> +<col class='colwidth12'> +<col class='colwidth21'> +<col class='colwidth12'> +</colgroup> + <tr> + <td class='c030'>Printers</td> + <td class='c013'>8342</td> + <td class='c014'>Publicans</td> + <td class='c015'>61,231</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c030'>Paper-makers</td> + <td class='c013'>4164</td> + <td class='c014'> </td> + <td class='c015'> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c030'>Bookbinders</td> + <td class='c013'>3599</td> + <td class='c014'> </td> + <td class='c015'> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c030'>Booksellers</td> + <td class='c013'>3327</td> + <td class='c014'> </td> + <td class='c015'> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c030'>Stationers, (mostly booksellers)</td> + <td class='c013'>2797</td> + <td class='c014'> </td> + <td class='c015'> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c030'>Copper-plate Printers (including calico)</td> + <td class='c013'>2663</td> + <td class='c014'> </td> + <td class='c015'> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c030'>Printsellers</td> + <td class='c013 bb'>593</td> + <td class='c014'> </td> + <td class='c015'> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c030'> </td> + <td class='c013'>25,485</td> + <td class='c014'> </td> + <td class='c015'> </td> + </tr> +</table> +<p class='c003'>So, if we exclude the calico-printers, (who do +not seem to have much to do with literature) we +have not so many as 25,000 persons employed in +literature, while we have above 61,000 who sell +beer. If we add the gin-shops to the number, +what will be the proportion?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I find, sir, that in Manchester they have +1000 gin-shops, and not so much as one daily +paper.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“It is the fact. And as long as members go +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.65'>65</span>into parliament to uphold such a state of things, +while they raise an outcry against beer-shops, +none such shall have a vote of mine. Which +means, that I shall not vote for Mr. Arruther, if +there should be an election; as I hear there will +be.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Owen thought that gentlemen who upheld the +paper-duty in parliament might spare themselves +the trouble of canvassing the paper-makers. He +understood that Mr. Arruther was one who had a +terrible dread of the people knowing too much.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“He would scarcely speak to you, Owen, if he +knew you were trying to get a letter of your own +into print. Well: don’t set your mind too much +upon it, and I wish you success with all my heart. +If we should see this letter of yours next week, +I am sure we may trust you not to neglect your +business for the sake of becoming a mere scribbler +in small publications. I think you will be +careful never to take up your pen but when you +really have something to say.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Owen was internally much surprised that Mr. +Waugh had encouraged him in his enterprize; +for no one had a stronger horror than Mr. Waugh +of the effect of what he called “low publications” +on the minds of his work-people. The whole +question lay in what Mr. Waugh considered to +be “low publications.” If he had meant low in +price, it was hardly likely that he would have +brought this tract for Owen: but, as few publications +then happened to be low in price without +being low in principle and spirit, Owen’s surprise +was natural.</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_5.66'>66</span>One night of the following week, he came +home with a bright countenance; and with a +trembling hand, he laid down before his mother, +as she sat at work at her table, a pamphlet, very +like the tract she had seen him poring over for so +many evenings. He judged rightly that though +she could not read, she would like to see the page +where O. E. was printed.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Long did she look at those black marks; and +now, for the first time, nurse Ede learned two +letters of the alphabet. From that day, she never +passed the placarded wall in the village without +picking out by her eye all the great O-s and E-s +in the bills there pasted up. She had now some +idea that her son’s letter must be altered by being +in print. She had heard it very often already, +(without understanding much more about it the +last time than the first;) but she had now a humble +request to proffer,—to hear it again.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“If you are not tired of reading it, my dear +boy; and then, when you have done, I think it +is not too late for me to put on my bonnet, and +go and show it to the clergyman. But I am +afraid you will be tired of reading it, my dear?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>There never was a more unfounded apprehension. +It was not to be denied that Owen had +read it very often; but he did not yet feel himself +tired. There was no pretence, however, for +his mother’s going to the clergyman. Owen had +met him; and had made bold to stop him, and +show him what had happened.</p> + +<p class='c001'>When all the compliments, hearty, if not altogether +enlightened, had been paid; when Ambrose +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.67'>67</span>had relaxed in his stare upon his accomplished +brother; and nurse had dried her few +tears and resumed her needle, and all reasonable +hope had been expressed that Mildred would not +be long in coming home, the happy young writer +began to look forward to the next week, when there +would or would not be an answer from X. Y. Z. +He had already consulted Mr. Waugh on the probability +of there being any answer at all, if there +was not next week. Mr. Waugh had little doubt +of there being some reply; Owen’s remarks being +made in an amicable spirit, and very courteously +expressed; and if no reply should be ready by +the next week, he thought there would at least be +a promise of one. Owen counted the days as +anxiously as in the times of his childhood, when +Christmas-day and the fair-day were in prospect. +He would have been much ashamed that even his +mother should know how glad he was every night +to think that another day was gone; and yet, +perhaps, if the truth had been revealed, his mother +was little less childish than himself.</p> + +<p class='c001'>The reply appeared, on the earliest possible +day; as courteous as Owen’s own; not altogether +agreeing with him, but modestly asking for further +explanation on two or three knotty points.—Who +was happier than Owen? His immediate +success raised his ambition and his hopes to a +height which he had before reached only in imagination. +He would write an answer immediately; +and when that was done, he would compose a +work on short-hand, giving an account of his own +studies, and the improvements he believed he had +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.68'>68</span>introduced into the art, with all the many ideas +which during his studies had gathered round the +subject. A stray notion or two about a universal +language of written signs had entered his head. +He would pursue the idea, and try whether he +could not do something which would make him +useful out of the limits of his native village. But +how was he to find the money to get a book +printed? his careful mother asked.—This he believed +would be no difficulty: indeed, he hoped +he should make a great deal of money by it. He +would show the probability. In trying to do so, +he proved something else,—that he had already +thought enough on the subject to have made inquiries +as to the cost of printing,—had actually +seen a printer’s bill. He told his mother that the +paper for such a pamphlet as he meditated would +cost 6<i>l.</i>, supposing five hundred copies to be +printed. The printing would cost about 14<i>l.</i>; +not more, for he should take care not to have any +alterations to make after it was once gone to +press. This would be 20<i>l.</i>; and the stitching +would cost a few shillings more; and the advertising +the same, he supposed. Say, twenty guineas +the whole. Then if these five hundred copies +sold for half-a-crown a-piece, there would be +62<i>l.</i> 10<i>s.</i> to come in; above 40<i>l.</i> profit,—out +of which he would pay the bookseller for his +trouble, and there would be a fine sum left +over; and he would tell his mother what he would +do with it. He would——</p> + +<p class='c001'>She promised that she would hear all he had +to say on this head when he should bring Mr. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.69'>69</span>Waugh’s assurance that he was likely to gain 40<i>l.</i> +to divide between himself and the bookseller, by +writing a little book. Meantime, she thought it +too good a prospect to be a likely one; and +could not believe but that everybody would be +writing books, if this was the way money might +be made by such a lad as her Owen.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Owen thought it a little unreasonable in his +mother to doubt him, when he offered her actually +a calculation of the expenses he had fully ascertained, +and when she had nothing to bring against +his figures but an impression of her own. However, +he would send his rejoinder to the editor, as +before, and think the matter over again before +he said anything to Mr. Waugh.</p> + +<p class='c001'>He did so, feeling pretty well satisfied that +his second letter, (into which he put some nicely-turned +expressions of esteem and admiration for +his unknown correspondent) would bring X. Y. Z. +and himself to a perfect agreement: and anxious +beyond measure for an answer to a query which +he proposed in his turn,—a query, upon the reply +to which hung he could scarcely say how much +that was all-important to the art of short-hand +writing. But next week no tract arrived, though +it had been positively ordered; and twice over, to +prevent mistake. It was so evident that poor +Owen was internally fretting and fuming, though +outwardly no more than grave, that Mr. Waugh +kindly found it necessary to send Ambrose to +L——, and even to Muggridge’s shop.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Perhaps, sir,” said the young writer, “you +would be kind enough to send one line to Mr. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.70'>70</span>Muggridge; and then he would write an answer, +if there should be any accident, instead of sending +a message which Ambrose might mistake, +not knowing much about book matters.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Ambrose brought back a written answer,—an +answer fatal for the time to Owen’s hopes. The +tract was not to be had this week, nor at any +future time. It was suppressed. The publisher +had been informed that if he went on to issue +it without putting a fourpenny stamp upon it, he +would be prosecuted. The publisher could not +afford to sell it, if every copy must cost him four-pence +in addition to the other necessary expenses; +and still less could he afford to be prosecuted. +The tract was suppressed.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Well, well; that is all right enough,” observed +Mr. Waugh. “The laws must be obeyed, +and I am sure I should have been the last person +to bring the publication to Arneside if I had +dreamed of its being illegal. I am sorry for you, +Owen; but the laws must be obeyed.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Owen could not bear this; and he went home +the first minute he could. His mother was full +of concern, and utterly unable to understand how +the case stood. She could not help having some +hope that the tract would come down, after all, +sooner or later; and that Owen would surprise +her by bringing it in his hand some day.</p> + +<p class='c001'>No: no hope of such an event! Here was +an end of everything. A most useful intercourse +between minds which would now become once +more strangers was interrupted. The improvement +of a useful art was stopped. There was no +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.71'>71</span>saying what might not have arisen out of this +correspondence,—how much that would have been +advantageous to the individuals and to society +was now lost through the interference of these +Stamp Commissioners. If they had let the publication +go on so long, raising hopes and justifying +expectations, they might——Owen could +not finish what he was saying. He had supposed +himself beyond the age of tears; but he now +found himself mistaken. He put his hand before +his eyes, and wept nearly as heartily as a girl +when the spirit of her pet lamb is passing away.</p> + +<p class='c001'>This reverse had the effect of improving Owen’s +eloquence. He grew very fond of conversing +both with the clergyman and with Mr. Waugh +on the impolicy and iniquity of restraining the +intercourse of minds in society, for the sake of a +few taxes, so paltry in their amount as to seem +to crave to be drawn from some material or +another of bodily food rather than from the intellectual +nourishment which is as much the +unbounded inheritance of every one that is born +into the world as his personal freedom.</p> + +<p class='c001'>All who knew Owen were surprised at the extraordinary +improvement he seemed to have +made within a short time, in countenance and +manner, as much as in his conversation. It became +a common remark among the neighbours, +that there must be a proud feeling in nurse Ede’s +mind whenever she saw her manly and intelligent-looking +son passing through the village, +with a gait and a glance so unlike those of his +former school-companions, who seemed to have +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.72'>72</span>fallen back into a pretty close resemblance to +those who had never learned their A, B, C. Some +of Owen’s sayings spread, and were admired +more than if they had arrived from an unknown +distant quarter. When the housewife lighted her +evening lamp, her husband told how Owen had +said that it was bad enough to tax the light that +visits the eyes, but infinitely worse to tax the +light that should illumine the immortal mind; +and the paper-makers quoted him over their work, +saying that no taxation is so injurious as that of +the raw material; and that books are the raw +material of science and art. For Owen’s sake +all were glad, for that of the village all were +sorry, when it was made known that Mr. Waugh +had resolved to part with his young friend, in +order to give him opportunity for further improvement +and advancement than could be within +his reach at Arneside, and had procured him a +good situation in Mr. Muggridge’s establishment +at L——.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Nurse spoke not a word in the way of objection. +Such an idea as her boy’s leaving his +native village had never occurred to her; but +she bore the surprise and consequent separation +very firmly. She happily felt a secret hope that +Ambrose would now rise into Owen’s place at +the mill, and in the society of Arneside; and +really, when she saw how he was getting on, in +quickness and in the power of reading, she began +to believe that it was not yet too late for Ambrose +to become a great man.</p> + +<div> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_5.73'>73</span> + <h3 id='ch5.6' class='c012'><span class='sc'>Chapter VI.</span><br> <br>PRESS AND POST-OFFICE.</h3> +</div> + +<p class='c017'>Owen promised, on leaving Arneside, not to forget +the old place and his old friends; and though +he soon became a prosperous man, he lost none +of his interest in those who were proud of being +regarded by him. Reports arrived of the importance +of the young Arneside scholar in L——; +in that large and busy town, which was like London +to the imaginations of the villagers. Owen +was Secretary to the Mechanics’ Institute there, +in course of time, after having won two or three +prizes, and introduced the study and practice of +his favourite short-hand. A straggler from +Arneside had met him in the streets of L——; +had been with him when he was stopped by three +people within a hundred yards, all eager to ask +him something about the newspaper,—the Western +Star; and had finally watched him into the +hotel when, well dressed in black, he had passed +in with several gentlemen who were attending a +public dinner there. Owen must have grown +into something very like a gentleman to be attending +a public dinner, and to be consulted +three times within a hundred yards about a newspaper. +One of Owen’s tokens of remembrance +was this weekly newspaper, a copy of which he +sent down regularly to the landlord of the Rose, +Mr. Chowne, to be circulated through the village +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.74'>74</span>when it had been read in the tap-room. This +was considered a very handsome present; and, +indeed, some of his careful friends, remembering +that sevenpence-halfpenny a week is 1<i>l.</i> 12<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> +a year, consulted together about sending him +word that he was too generous, and that they +were scrupulous about accepting so expensive a +remembrance from him. His mother, however, +heard of this, and put an end to all scruples by +expressing her confidence that her son would do +nothing which he could not properly afford; and +it afterwards transpired from some quarter that +Owen had told somebody that this newspaper +cost him nothing, an intimation which certain of +the village politicians interpreted as meaning +that he wrote the whole of it. From the moment +that their version of the story was adopted, the +eagerness with which the “Western Star” was +received was redoubled; and those who could +not read listened with open mouths while those +who could told the news, and magnified as they +went along. The gossip about the Turkish Sultan +and his Ministers now became interesting, as +well as the speculations about the magnetic pole; +and there was no end to the astonishment at +Owen’s learning, which seemed to extend from +courts and cabinets down to razor-strops and +Macassar oil. No day of the week passed without +his being pronounced a wonderful young +man.</p> + +<p class='c001'>The most incomprehensible thing to the whole +village was that Owen sent down warnings in +his letters, more than once, that the “Western +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.75'>75</span>Star” must not be trusted as if it told nothing +but truth. Its reports were declared to be often +unfair, and its politics wavering and unprincipled. +There was some talk in L—— of trying to get +up another newspaper; and it would be a pity if +(as was too likely) it could not be done; as an +opposition might improve the “Western Star.” +This declaration seemed to exhibit an unparalleled +modesty and disinterestedness on the part +of Owen. Nobody would have found out that +his newspaper was not perfectly fair, if he had +not himself said so.</p> + +<p class='c001'>One motive to such transcendent virtue might +be discerned. The reports which, Owen said, +were the least of all to be trusted, were those of +Mr. Arruther’s speeches and conduct in the +House. Owen was known to be no admirer of +Mr. Arruther as a Member of Parliament; and, +that the “Western Star” had always praised this +gentleman, and called upon his constituents for +gratitude, was supposed to be owing to the laws +of good breeding, which might forbid any public +blame of so rich and grand a person as Mr. +Arruther. But Owen’s private letters spoke very +plainly of the Member; of his idleness about +his duty; of his prejudice in favour of the aristocracy; +and of his constancy in opposing every +measure which could tend to the relief and enlightenment +of the working classes. He wished +that he could give his old friends the means of +knowing what grounds he had for saying all +this; but the London papers took little notice of +Mr. Arruther, and nothing would be found +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.76'>76</span>against him in the “Western Star.” He must +beg any of the Arneside people who had votes +to try to ascertain how Mr. Arruther had voted +on such and such questions, and make up their +minds for themselves whether they were properly +represented.</p> + +<p class='c001'>On the days when the “Western Star” arrived, +man after man dropped in at the tap-room at the +Rose, to try for his turn, or to listen to any one +who might be reading aloud. Nurse would +never be persuaded to go and listen too, though +a seat of honour would have been awarded her, +by the window in summer, and near the fire in +winter. She felt that she had rather wait; and +a rule was made that she should have the first +loan of the paper. Such was the rule, if it had +but been kept. But when she had her proper +turn, it did not always happen that Ambrose was +ready to read, or that she was at home that evening; +and she never chose to detain the treasure +beyond a single day, when so many better scholars +than herself were longing for it. And there +was some underhand work about this matter. +The newspaper had sometimes disappeared from +the table at the Rose; which happened because +some impatient person had bribed the pot-boy to +let him or her have it first, or had slipped in +through the open door, and carried it off: and +then, by the time it came round to nurse’s cottage, +it was so thumbed and dirtied and torn at +all the creases, that poor scholars read it at a +great disadvantage; so that, altogether, Nurse +was not much enlightened by the “Western +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.77'>77</span>Star.” Yet, the first thing that she remembered +on waking, every Saturday morning, was that +this was the day of the arrival of the newspaper; +and Ambrose was sure to be reminded of it by +some gentle hint during breakfast.</p> + +<p class='c001'>He went in at the Rose, one Saturday evening, +to see what was doing. There sat Farmer +Mason, looking more shabby than ever; as he +had done each time that Ambrose had seen him +since the fire. He came to learn if the advertisement +and list of subscriptions in his favour +were in the “Star” to-day. Nothing like them +appeared; and he was drowning his disappointment +in a third glass of spirit and water. Some +Job’s comforters were present who asked him +how he could expect that his friends should consume +the little money they had obtained for him +in advertising; and added what they had heard +about the unwillingness of many people to assist +a man who had shown himself so imprudent as +not to insure. Mason did not boast of any more +patience than Job.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“As for the insuring,” said he, “it is all very +well for the rich to talk. They insure themselves; +having several properties which they +make to secure one another; it being the last +thing likely that all or many should be burnt +down. But the very cause which prevents their +insuring should teach them to excuse us poor +men for not doing it.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Besides,” observed the landlord, “there are +so many country people that do not think of insuring +against fire! Indeed, I scarcely know a +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.78'>78</span>farmer that has done it; and why should Mason +act differently from his neighbours?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And why don’t the farmers insure? Why +does not every body insure?” cried Mason. +“Because of the tax which the rich escape paying +by making one estate insure another. As +long as the government is to have 200 per cent. +upon fire insurances, there will be plenty of +people to keep me in countenance for what some +few are pleased to call my neglect.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What business has the government to interfere +with a man, when he is trying to provide +against misfortune?” asked the shoemaker of +the village. “It is a direct reward to carelessness +to tax carefulness. And 200 per cent. too!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Yes: 200 per cent. If the premium is calculated +at 1<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i>, the government imposes a 3<i>s.</i> +stamp. If you go and insure 1000<i>l.</i> worth of +goods at 15<i>s.</i>, we’ll say, you must pay a duty of +30<i>s.</i> to government. Where is the wonder that +a man would rather trust to Providence to keep +the fire from his roof than submit to such a tax? +The true matter of wonder is, that any government +could ever shut its eyes to this!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Something has happened about sea-insurances +which might have opened their eyes, as I +know from my brother, who is now master of a +ship from the next port,” observed the landlord. +“The last time he was here, he told me what I +had no idea of before. While we have more +and more ships passing in and out, the duty on +sea-policies is falling off. Where the business +transacted has increased one-fifth, the duty has +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.79'>79</span>fallen off two-fifths: that is to say, our merchants +and ship-masters go and insure in Holland, +and in Germany, and in the United States +of America, or any respectable place where the +stamp is not so high as in England. The government +might as well take off this tax at once, +with a good grace; for, in a little while, all the +insurers will be driven across the water. Since +the duty will soon yield nothing at all, they may +as well let us keep a useful branch of business +among us, instead of giving it away to foreigners.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I am sure,” said poor Mason, sipping from +his glass, and recurring to the faults which had +been found with him,—“I am sure it is no unreasonable +thing of me to look for another +advertisement or two, considering how little can +be done by one. Only think how many people +may chance to miss seeing the paper that once, +or may overlook that particular advertisement, +when they might be ready enough to give, if it +did but come often enough before their eyes. +And I suppose it cannot cost a great deal to +print ten or twelve lines; and when once it +stands ready for printing, I suppose they charge +less each time, as is done in other cases where +there is less charged in proportion to the greatness +of the custom.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The landlord knew that this was the way in +America. His brother was in the habit of advertising +the departure of his ship from an American +port. He paid for his advertisement +(which happened to be a short one) 2<i>s.</i> 2<i>d.</i> for +one insertion; for 3<i>s.</i> 3<i>d.</i> for two; and only 6½<i>d.</i> more +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.80'>80</span>each time, for as long as he chose. An advertisement +of eight lines, which would have cost +him two guineas in England at the end of a +week, cost him in America only 5<i>s.</i> 5<i>d.</i> It is +the advertisement duty which makes an advertisement +as expensive the twentieth time as the +first in England; and, bad as the duty is +altogether, this is the worst part of it; for, as +Mr. Mason was saying, repetition is all in all in +advertising.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“There is talk of taking off a good part of the +advertisement duty,”<a id='rA'></a><a href='#fA' class='c031'><sup>[A]</sup></a> observed the shoemaker.</p> + +<hr class='c032'> +<div class='footnote' id='fA'> +<p class='c001'><a href='#rA'>A</a>. Since done.</p> +</div> +<hr class='c032'> + +<p class='c001'>“There will be less use in taking off a part +than the government expects,” replied the landlord, +“for the very reason that the principle of +an advertisement duty interferes with the lowering +of the price on repetition. If the government +now make, as they say, 160,000<i>l.</i> a year +by this tax, they would find their profit in taking +it off altogether by——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“The increase of the paper duty, from the +multitude of advertisements there would be.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“That would be true; but I would have the +paper duty off too; and so I should look to another +quarter for the compensation. Much more +than 160,000<i>l.</i> a year would drop into the +treasury from the increase of traffic of every kind +which must happen in consequence of freedom of +advertising. Our greater traffic of late years has +not yielded more advertisement duty. We had +better try now whether giving up that duty +would not cause greater traffic, and so an increase +of duties upon other things.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_5.81'>81</span>“One might easily find out,” observed somebody, +“whether the Americans advertise more +than we do, from having no duty to pay. That +would be the test.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“The only test; and what is the fact? There +are half as many again of advertisements in the +daily papers of New York alone, as in all the +newspapers of Great Britain and Ireland.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Without London. You leave out the great +London papers.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Not I. I include the great daily papers of +London. We have twice as many people as the +United States, and more than twice as much +business; yet we have only one million of advertisements +in a year, and the United States have +ten millions—that is to say, their advertising is +to ours as ten to one. And when you further +consider, as my brother says, how many of +the Americans are busy on the land instead of in +trade, and how many more we have occupied in +trade, from which the greater part of advertisements +come, it is hardly too much to say that +their advertising is to ours as forty to one. Depend +upon it, we are under the mark when we say +that the duty suppresses nineteen out of twenty +of those advertisements which would be sent +to the newspapers if we had the same freedom +as the Americans; and that no mere reduction +will prevent the suppression of millions which it +is for everybody’s advantage should appear.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Yes, indeed; and why we should be compelled +to pay to the Government for making +known that we have something to sell ten miles +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.82'>82</span>off, when a shopkeeper may freely put a bill in +his window to tell what may be had within, it is +not altogether easy to see.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“There is one thing easy to see,” observed +Joy, the builder; “and that is the figure that +people make of our walls, sticking them all over +with bills. I have more trouble than enough +with pulling them down from the end of my +master’s house; and as sure as I next pass that +way, I find it all covered over again with red +and black letters, and ugly pictures. My master +calls it making a newspaper of his gable. And +as for the chalking,—it is said that men and boys +are hired to go about chalking all the walls in +the country; and before ever our mortar is dry, +there is some unsightly scrawl or another on the +new red bricks. ’Tis too much for the temper of +any builder. For my part, I make no scruple of +threshing any one that I catch with the chalk in +his hand, man or boy.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Ambrose stood up for the practice of plastering +the walls with bills; he having been often +amused, and even led to read, by a tempting display +of this kind. But it did not take long to +convince him that he might be better amused, +and more comfortably advanced in his reading, +if he could but be supplied at his own home with +a sufficiency of pictures and articles to study. +He saw that it was pleasanter to sit down at his +mother’s deal-table for such purposes, than to +stand in a broiling sun or drizzling rain, looking +up till the back of his neck ached like that +of a rheumatic old man.</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_5.83'>83</span>Mason was at first equally disposed to advocate +the chalking. He had himself sent his poor +boys about to represent on every conspicuous +brick surface within five miles, a large house in +flames, with the inscription underneath, “Remember +Farmer Mason and his large young +family, burnt out of house and home.” He believed +that he owed nearly as much to this as to +having employed Grice the crier to bawl his +case through two or three parishes.</p> + +<p class='c001'>The shoemaker hoped that fellow Grice did not +take anything from Farmer Mason for doing him +this service. Grice was known to be prospering +in the world; and it was a cruel thing to take +money from a ruined man, the same as from a +fortunate one. Mason sighed, shook his head, +and applied himself to his glass. Perhaps the +landlord winced under the last remark, conscious +of being now actually running up a score against +Mason for drink, which he would never have +thought of tasting if he had not been tempted +to the Rose, for the sake of seeing the advertisement +of his calamity. To have defended Grice +would have been going rather too far; but +Chowne ventured to show that Grice was no +worse than some other people.</p> + +<p class='c001'>The Government, he said, took large sums of +money from all distressed people whose calamities +are advertised. When there was a famine in Ireland, +several thousand pounds of the money +subscribed for the relief of the famishing went to +the Government in the shape of advertisement-duty; +and when the floods of the last autumn +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.84'>84</span>had laid waste whole districts in Scotland, the +profit which the Treasury made by the announcement +would have rebuilt hundreds of the cottages +which were swept away. And this profiting +was not only on rare and great occasions. +There was not a poor servant out of place who +had not to pay to the Government for the chance +of getting a service; and to pay exactly the same +as the nobleman who wishes to sell an estate of +ten thousand a-year, and to whom a pound spent +in advertisement-duty is of less consequence than +a doit would be to the servant out of place.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mason sighed, and said that the thing most +plain to him was that he was destined to be +stripped of all he had, since there was a pluck on +every hand,—first the fire, and then Grice, and +the Government, and everybody. But though +he was disappointed in what he came to see in +the newspaper, he did not mean to go away without +seeing it; and so he would trouble the landlord +for another glass of spirit and water. It +would be hard if he did not see the paper now, +as he had no money to pay the pot-boy, like some +people, for a sight of it. He did wonder, and +he was not the only one that wondered, that +the landlord chose to make a profit of what was +sent him as a present,—taking one little advantage +from one, and another from another; for +nobody supposed the pot-boy put in his own +pocket all the good things he got every week.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Chowne wondered what his friend Mason +meant. If people chose to make presents to his +servants, it was nothing to him: but,—as for his +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.85'>85</span>making anything by the paper,—he could tell the +present company, if they did not know it already, +that there was a law against letting newspapers. +He should now take care to tell his pot-boy the +very words of the law,—“that any hawker of +newspapers, who shall let any newspaper to hire +to any person, or to different persons, shall forfeit +the sum of five pounds for each offence.” If, after +this, the lad should choose to run the risk, it would +be at his own peril; and nobody would now suppose +that a prudent man like himself would run +the risk of being fined five pounds, a dozen times +over, every week.</p> + +<p class='c001'>O, but that must be an old, forgotten law, that +nobody thought of regarding. Were there no +newsmen in London, letting out newspapers at +twopence an hour?</p> + +<p class='c001'>The law was not so very old, Chowne said. +Our good King George the Third had been +reigning just thirty years when it was passed. If +it was disregarded in London, he supposed people +had their reasons for disregarding it; and he was +far from wishing to defend that bit of law; but, +for his own sake, he should not break it. So, +perhaps, friend Hartley, who had been getting the +paper by heart, apparently, while the others were +talking, would have the goodness either to read +aloud, or to hand the sheet over to somebody +who would.</p> + +<p class='c001'>The reader had been anxious to see what was said +about Arruther’s being absent during two nights,—the +most important of any in the session to some +of his constituents,—and voting with the majority +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.86'>86</span>on another question, after having led people to +suppose he was of an opposite opinion. But +this paper was really ridiculous in its support of +that man. Here were a hundred reasons for his +doing as he had done; and not one good one. +Hartley had no idea of being gulled as this paper +would gull him, just for the sake of whitewashing +Mr. Arruther; and he began to read what the +paper said. A good deal of argumentation followed, +which, however animating and wholesome +it might be to the persons engaged, was dull and +useless to Ambrose, from his knowing nothing +about the subject discussed. Seeing no chance +of the party arriving at the accident and murder +parts in any decent time, he determined to go +home and tell his mother that they must wait, +and that he did not know whether the paper was +entertaining or not, this time. All were too busy +leaning over the table and listening, to take any +notice of him when he went away; and, as he +never drank anything, Chowne did not consider +himself called upon to bestow more than a slight +nod on Ambrose, as the lad made his rustic bow +in passing out.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Whom should he meet at the next corner but +Ryan? Ambrose’s wits were certainly brightened +by some means or another; for he bethought +himself of the use Ryan might be of to poor +Mason, by serving as a walking advertisement of +his misfortune. The moment he had heard that +the rag-merchant was going to offer his company +and his news to old Jeffery to-night, instead of +always troubling nurse Ede to entertain him, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.87'>87</span>Ambrose blurted out the story of the fire, the +subscription, the rapacity of the Government in regard +to advertisements, and the advantage it +would be to Mason if the rag-merchant would +take up his cause, and beg for him through the +country.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ay; that’s the way,” said Ryan. “Always +something for me to do as I travel the country! +However, I’ll do it with all my heart. My errands +are not all begging ones, as I will show you. I +give as well as beg sometimes. Here, take this. +This is Owen’s tract (I mean the tract that was +put down) come to life again. I’ll give it to you +this once; and if you can get anybody to join +you in buying it at twopence a-week by the time +I come again, I can order it for you. Not that +you can have it weekly: the carriage would cost +too much; but——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“It can come by post, can’t it? The ‘Western +Star’ always comes by post, and no charge.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Very likely; but this is not altogether like +the ‘Western Star’ or other newspapers that +come by post, as you will find when you look at +it. But you can have four numbers together, +once a-month, when the monthly things come for +the clergyman and Mr. Waugh. Give my love +to nurse, and tell her rags are down. She must +take a penny a pound less if she has any to sell. +The rags from the Mediterranean and the east +are not all wanted, and the American paper-makers +have come here to buy; and while that +is the case, mine will be but a bad business. +Our paper-making is a joke to theirs; and, for +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.88'>88</span>my part, if something does not happen soon to +quicken the demand for rags. I think I shall give +up going my rounds, and bid you all good bye.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“No: don’t say that, Mr. Ryan. We should +be sorry not to see you twice a-year, as we have +done as long as I can remember.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Well; if you wish to help my trade, and so +go on seeing me, do your best to spread this publication. +If you will believe me, there are ten +thousand a-week circulating of it already; and +that requires a good deal of paper,—see!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Ambrose was approaching, as slowly as he +could put one foot before the other, the fifth +time that his mother looked out for him from her +door.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“So, here you are, my dear; and the paper, +too!—and a picture at top of it to-day! That’s +something new. I wonder whether it be Owen’s +drawing. He could draw if he was to try, I’m +sure.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“’Tis not Owen’s paper, mother; but a much +finer one, and not costing scarcely a quarter as +much as Owen’s.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>And he told how he had got it; and helped +his mother to make out the pictures, as she looked +at them over his shoulder.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Who is that lady, I wonder now,” said nurse, +“with her hands fastened, poor thing! and a +great arm out of a cloud whipping her? What +fine feathers she has in her queer hat! and what +a whip! with a man’s face at the end of every +cord.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“That is Britannia and her task-masters, mother. +Those are her task-masters,—those faces +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.89'>89</span>in the whip; and they are our rulers: there are +their names. And below there is—‘Many a +tear of blood has Britain shed under those +tyrants that make themselves a cat-o’-nine-tails, +to bare the bones and harrow the feelings of the +sons of industry.’ How cruel!—Then there is—here, +in this corner——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“A great chest all on fire. I see.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“A printing-press, that is; but what the great +light round about it means, I don’t know; but it +does not seem to be burning away. Then, opposite, +there is a black person, with an odd foot and +a long tail; and see what is flying off from the +end of his tail!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“A crown, I do believe; and what is the +other?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“A mitre. The lines below are—</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c029'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>‘My tail shall toss both Church and State,</div> + <div class='line'>And leave them, shortly, to their fate.’</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c033'>And do look behind! There is the church window, +and two men hanging. I think the fat one +is the parson. Who can the other be?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“But, my dear, I do not like this picture at +all. It seems to me very cruel and wicked.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Well, let us look at the next. Here is a +man that has tumbled into the kennel; and a +woman with a child in her arms falling over him; +and nobody helps them up; but all the boys in +the street are pointing at them. What is written +over behind there? ‘Gin palace.’ Ah! those +people are drunk, poor creatures!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“My dear, don’t say ‘poor creatures!’ for fear +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.90'>90</span>I should think you pity them. They deserve all +that may happen to them; and I hope the paper +says so.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>The paper said something very like it. It +told the story of a man who had beaten his +wife, and turned her out of a gin-shop when she +had followed him there, with her infant in her +arms. In his drunken rage, he had pushed the +door so violently as to squeeze the infant in the +door-way, and cause its death. This was related +very plainly, and followed by some forcible remarks +on the disgusting sin of drunkenness. +Mrs. Ede was much pleased with all this, and +with more which Ambrose read when she had +lighted her candle, and sat down to darn his +stockings. There was a story of a master who +was kind enough to offer to make another trial +of a run-away apprentice; and the rebuke which +a magistrate gave to a mean-spirited wretch who +would have frightened his little daughter into +telling a lie to save him from justice. Then came +a short account of what was doing at the North +Pole; and afterwards, directions how to keep +meat from spoiling in hot weather. In the midst +of this, Ambrose stopped, quite tired out. When +he came to “wiped with a dry cloth,” his breath +failed him, and the lines swam before his eyes. +He had never before read so much in one day. +Nurse was sorry not to hear what should be done +next with the meat; but she hoped Ambrose +would be able to go on to-morrow. Meantime, +she spent a few minutes in glancing over what +was to her an expanse of hieroglyphics.</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_5.91'>91</span>“Ah! here is a song!” cried she. “This is +the way the song was printed in Owen’s paper.—Never +mind, my dear. You have done quite +enough. Never mind the song now.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Ambrose could not help trying, and for some +time in vain, to make out this bit of apparent +poetry. It turned out at last to be a list of +country agents and their abodes: a list so long as +to fill a quarter of a column.—When the laugh at +this mistake was done, nurse began to tell her son +what a very happy mother she considered herself. +It was a pity, to be sure, that poor Mildred did +not get home in time to hear all that her mother +had heard; and, indeed, nurse sometimes wondered +whether her girl did not stay out later than +she need; and whether it was a fancy of her own +that Mildred was not so fond of being at home as +she used to be. But still, everybody knew Mildred +to be a very steady, virtuous girl, unlike two +or three at the mill who might be mentioned; +and, while many mothers were anxious about +their lads, not knowing whether they passed their +evenings at the public-house, or playing thimble-rig +in the lane, or going into the woods after +dark with a gun, nurse was wholly at ease about +her boys. Owen was doing honourably, which +partly made up for his being at a distance; and +here was Ambrose improving his learning by +finding out for her how meat should be kept in +hot weather, and meeting with awful lessons +about drunkenness. It made her feel so obliged +to him! and she knew he had a pleasure in +delighting her: a sort of pleasure that poor Mrs. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.92'>92</span>Arruther and her son seemed never to have had +together, for all his fine education. And there +were many much humbler people than the Arruthers +who were not near so happy as nurse. If +she could but make out whether anything heavy +lay on her girl’s mind——But the present was +not a time to speak of the only great trouble she +had. It would be ungrateful to do so to-night.—There +was one more thing she should like to +know, however; and that was why, when this +paper blamed violence and falsehood in men that +got drunk, and in bad fathers, it was itself so violent +about our rulers, and told so much that she +thought must be false about them. She had no +wish to find fault with anything that Ryan had +brought; but she had rather think the paper mistaken +than believe that our rulers were so cruel +as it declared.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Ambrose looked again at the pictures; thought +the people who wrote the paper must be pretty +sure what they were about before they printed +such things; feared that the rulers and the church +must be a bad set; and reminded his mother how +virtuous this publication had proved itself about +gin.</p> + +<p class='c001'>If nurse had known all, she would not have +felt the surprise she had ventured to express; +and if Ambrose had known all, he would not +have concluded that because some vices were +condemned and some virtues honoured in one +page, the next must be pure in the morals of its +politics. This newspaper was an unstamped, and +therefore an illegal, publication. It was obnoxious +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.93'>93</span>to the law, and therefore an enemy to the +law, and to all law-makers. Moral in its choice +and presentation of police reports, and of late +occurrences of other kinds, judicious in its selections +from good books, and useful in those of its +original articles which had nothing to do with +politics, it was cruel, malicious, and false in its +manner of treating whatever related to law-makers. +It was what in high places is called inflammatory. +Its tendency was, not to enlighten +its readers about the faults of their representatives, +errors in the practice of government, and +the evils arising from former faults and errors; +but to persuade the people that rich men must +be wicked men; that the industrious must be oppressed; +and that the way to remedy everything +was to strip the rich and hang the idle. Its object, +in short, was to make its readers hate an +authority which it chose to disobey.—If no injurious +authority had interfered with the establishment +of this paper, (which establishment it had +not availed to prevent,) the political part of this +paper would have been as moral as the rest. +There is no abstract and peculiar hatred in men’s +minds against rulers, any more than there is +against poets, or jewellers, or colonels in the +army, or any other class; and no one class would +have been selected for reprobation here, if there +had been no provocation, on the one side, to defiance +on the other. If there had been no fear +of punishment for saying anything at all, there +would have been no temptation to say what was +unjust and cruel, to the injury of every party +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.94'>94</span>concerned. But, for the sake of the four-penny +stamp, a temperate and very useful publication +had been put down; and there had arisen from +its ruins,—another, not like itself, but seasoned +high with whatever could most exalt the passions, +and thereby enlist the prejudices of the multitude +in its support against the law. This could have +taken place only under an unwise and oppressive +law; unwise in affording facilities for its own evasion; +and oppressive in debarring the people +from an immeasurable advantage, for the sake of +a very small supposed profit to the treasury.</p> + +<p class='c001'>As Ambrose unfolded the paper, on being satisfied +with what he had seen of two sides of it, two +or three little papers fell out, and fluttered down +to the ground. They contained a puff of the +paper, and were to be circulated by him, no +doubt.</p> + +<div class='quote'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> + <div class='nf-center'> + <div>“<i>The best and cheapest Newspaper ever published in England.</i></div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> + <div class='nf-center'> + <div>“THE TWOPENNY TREAT, AND PEOPLE’S LAW-BOOK.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c001'>“It shall abound in Police intelligence, in Murders, +Rapes, Suicides, Burnings, Maimings, +Theatricals, Races, Pugilism, and all manner of +‘moving accidents by flood and field.’ In short, +it will be stuffed with every sort of devilment that +will make it sell. For this reason, and to make +it the poor man’s treat, the price is only two-pence +(not much more than the price of the +paper.) So that even to pay its way, the sale +must be enormous. With this, however, we shall +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.95'>95</span>be satisfied. Our object is, not to make money, +but to beat the Government. Let the public only +assist us in this, and we promise them the cheapest +and best paper for the money that was ever +published in England.</p> + +<table class='table6'> +<colgroup> +<col class='colwidth85'> +<col class='colwidth7'> +<col class='colwidth7'> +</colgroup> + <tr> + <td class='c034'><span class='sc'>Observe!</span></td> + <td class='c034'><i>s.</i></td> + <td class='c022'><i>d.</i></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c014'>Advertisements under six lines</td> + <td class='c034'>1</td> + <td class='c022'>6</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c014'>Each additional line</td> + <td class='c034'>0</td> + <td class='c022'>2</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c022' colspan='3'>Published by E. Hamilton; and sold by all courageous Venders of the unstamped.”</td> + </tr> +</table> + +</div> + +<p class='c001'>Why did not Ambrose read this announcement +to his mother? Why did he not, the next day, +give her some of the benefit of the other two +pages of this paper? If nurse had been able to +read for herself about the “devilment” with which +the publication was to be stuffed, and about the +nature of the contract between masters and +workmen, she might, by a few words of parental +wisdom and love, have saved her son and herself +from future intolerable misery. One grief lay +heavy at her heart already; a grief which had its +cause in the gross ignorance of one of her children. +Another was in store, arising from the +imperfect knowledge and mistaken credulity of +her second son. In the enlightenment of the eldest +lay her only security for her maternal peace.</p> + +<div> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_5.96'>96</span> + <h3 id='ch5.7' class='c012'><span class='sc'>Chapter VII.</span><br> <br>THE POLICY OF M.Ps.</h3> +</div> + +<p class='c017'>Owen’s visions had not all been realized. He +had not yet got his thirty or forty pounds by +publishing what he had to say on short-hand and +universal language. He had not even published +at all. This arose, first, from certain difficulties +represented to him by Mr. Muggridge, and fully +confirmed by a London bookseller; and, next, +from his having grown modest as he grew enlightened. +He was much less confident at L—— +than he had been at Arneside, that he could say +anything very new and very valuable on a universal +language.</p> + +<p class='c001'>The bookseller’s first difficulty was about +Owen’s remarks being published as a pamphlet. +He was right enough in saying that the young +man did not know what he was about in wishing +to publish a pamphlet. In order to intimate the +risk, Mr. Muggridge told him that not one pamphlet +in fifty pays the cost of its publication; and +showed him how clearly impossible it was that +any other result could take place. Pamphlets +were triple taxed; and by what means could so +small an article pay its expense of production, +three kinds of tax, and the trouble of the publisher, +and leave any surplus for the author? First, the +paper was heavily excised; then there was the +pamphlet duty of three shillings per sheet; and +then the advertisement duty. And the risk of +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.97'>97</span>not selling the whole must not be forgotten. +The duty must be paid upon every copy of the +largest edition, before a single one was sold; +and if no more than twenty were purchased, and +all the rest went as waste paper to the tobacconist, +there would be no drawback allowed: not even +time given to see whether there would be any +sale or not. There were no bonded warehouses, +where books might be lodged between their +manufacture and their sale. To issue a pamphlet +must be a speculation of unavoidable hazard——</p> + +<p class='c001'>To all but the Government, who makes sure +of the taxes beforehand.</p> + +<p class='c001'>To all but the Government! And what did +the Government get by it? The practice tended +to the suppression of pamphlets, and not to the +profit of the treasury. The very oppressive +pamphlet duty yielded to the Government 970l. +a-year. For this mighty sum were hundreds of +intelligent men kept silent who might have uttered +thousands of opinions and millions of facts which +would have been useful to their race, but who +had neither power nor inclination to issue in +expensive volumes thoughts which would have +been worth setting forth in cheap tracts. For +this mighty sum were thousands of rational beings +subjected to that restriction of commerce which +is the most to be deprecated, and the least capable +of defence,—the commerce of thought. What +would be said to regulations of commerce which +should practically prohibit a silver coinage, while +it allowed but a very minute supply of copper? +What would be thought of the injury to those +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.98'>98</span>who had it not in their power to deal with gold? +Yet in the far more important interchange of +knowledge and opinion, this monstrous virtual +prohibition subsisted for the sake of the 970<i>l.</i> +a-year which it brought to the treasury!</p> + +<p class='c001'>Owen could scarcely believe that the produce +of the tax could be so small till it was explained +what its attendant expenses were. Fifty prosecutions +in the year cannot be conducted for nothing; +and the average of prosecutions in a year for the +neglect of payment of the pamphlet duty was +fifty. In some years, the average of prosecutions +had been so much larger, or the horror of +the tax had so availed in deterring from that mode +of publication, that the Government had sustained +an actual loss of 200<i>l.</i> under that head of +duty. If Owen meant to publish at all, he had +better swell his matter into a good thick volume—a +ten shilling octavo, which would escape the +pamphlet duty, and cost no more in advertising +than an eighteen-penny pamphlet.</p> + +<p class='c001'>And what chance was there of his making it +worth his while to publish a book? Owen would +know. Little chance enough of his being recompensed +for his toil, and rewarded for his talent; +though he might perhaps recover the money he +must lay out. If he printed five hundred copies, +the expenses would be about 170<i>l.</i>, of which 30<i>l.</i> +would be tax of one kind or another. Then +eleven copies must be given to various institutions——</p> + +<p class='c001'>But Owen did not mean to give any away, +except two or three copies to old friends.</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_5.99'>99</span>He must. There was a law by which eleven +copies of every work entered at Stationers’ Hall +must be presented to institutions where they are +as sure to lie unread as if they were already the +waste paper they will be some time or other. +The Universities of Oxford and Cambridge are +among the eleven favoured places: those rich +Universities, which are exempted from that paper-duty +which must be paid by every little tradesman +who issues a hand-bill about his stock, and every +labourer who buys his daughter a Bible when she +goes out to service, or puts half a quire of foolscap +into her hand that she may write sometimes +to her parents. Well; these expenses being +all paid, there would remain to be divided between +the author and the publisher, when every +copy was sold, neither more nor less than 20<i>l.</i> +That is to say, the treasury would take 35<i>l.</i>, and +the author and publisher together 20<i>l.</i>, and this +in the best possible case,—that of every copy +being sold.</p> + +<p class='c001'>This statement disposed Owen to refrain from +becoming an author at present,—at least till he +had asked an experienced London publisher whether +Mr. Muggridge did not labour under some +mistake. The answer from London was that +Mr. Muggridge’s statement was perfectly correct; +and added that, in this country, not one-fourth +of the books published pay their expenses, +leaving out of view all recompense of the author’s +ability and industry; that only one in eight or +ten can be reprinted with advantage; and that, +in the case of the most successful works,—works +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.100'>100</span>of which the very largest number is printed and +sold,—the duties invariably amount to more than +the entire remuneration of the author.</p> + +<p class='c001'>From this moment Owen applied himself to +make some other use of his short-hand than +publishing it. He became the principal reporter +for the “Western Star.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Now a power came into his hands of whose +nature and extent he had not formed any conception +before he made trial of his new occupation. +Upon him it now depended how much the +good people of L—— and a wide district round +should know of the law proceedings, of the public +meetings and dinner speechifyings that took +place in the town and neighbourhood. Upon +Owen it depended whether the misdemeanours of +certain citizens should be held up as a warning, +or obligingly concealed; whether the corporation +should be allowed to take its own way in quiet, +or subjected to be watched by the townspeople; +whether one side or both of a political question +should be presented. There was no competition, +as the “Western Star” was the only newspaper +in the place; and nothing could be easier than +it now would have been to Owen to influence the +opinions of the whole reading public in L—— +as to all matters of general concern, by his own. +Nothing could be easier than to give his own +view of any question discussed at a public meeting. +It was only laying down his pencil, and +folding his arms till a speaker had done, and +then making a note of his first and last sentence; +while the best speakers on the other side had +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.101'>101</span>their best sayings put at length, and to the best +advantage. As it was impossible to issue +the whole of what every body said, the most natural +process seemed to be to print what Owen +liked most, and must therefore think the most +worth carrying away. Owen himself felt that +this was an unreasonable and pernicious power +to be in the hands of any man; and, earnestly +as he desired not to abuse it, he was so well +aware that every man must have his peculiar +tastes and political partialities,—he saw so clearly +that no one report of his in the “Western Star” +was in matter precisely what it would have been +if prepared by any one else, that it offended his +judgment and his conscience to be left in a state +of irresponsibility in the discharge of a duty of +such extreme importance. He felt that responsibility +to any one mind was out of the question. +If Mr. Muggridge, or any other censor, had been +set over him, the only difference would have +been that the public would have seen affairs +through Mr. Muggridge’s medium, instead of +through Owen’s: but there was another kind of +responsibility to which he would fain have been +subjected; and that was, public opinion. If he +had known that other papers beside the “Western +Star” would also publish the proceedings he +was reporting, he must not only have avoided +any gross act of suppression or embellishment, +but must have vied with other reporters in selecting +whatever was most weighty, by whomsoever +said, and on whatever aspect of a question. In +free competition alone, he saw, lay his security +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.102'>102</span>for his own perfect honesty, and that of the +public for being truly informed about public proceedings.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Owen was now in a somewhat similar position +to that of the reporters of the London newspapers, +some years ago, when a very few journals, +compromising matters among themselves, +and, secure from competition, sported with public +curiosity as they chose. If a fit of yawning +seized those gentlemen in the midst of a parliamentary +debate, they went to the next tavern to +refresh themselves with a bowl of punch; and +Burke and Fox might take their chance for its +being known beyond the House that they had +spoken at all. Thus, if Owen grew tired, he +had only to go away, and add next morning that +“the meeting separated at a late hour, highly +gratified,” &c. &c. Again, the old London reporters +did not like having to work three nights +together, and gave themselves a holiday on +Wednesdays. In like manner, Friday being a +busy day with Owen, he might have skipped over +all Friday doings, and have allowed a dead +silence to rest on whatever happened on that +unlucky day. He had been rather roughly +treated by one of the opulent friends of the +Mechanics’ Institution; and, if he had not been +too honest, he might have omitted a hundred +notices which he printed of this gentleman’s +zealous exertions for the good of the town; or +have made nonsense of the sentiments he uttered, +or have taken care that his name should not +remain upon record in the local history of which +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.103'>103</span>reporters are the faithful or unfaithful compilers. +This is the way that Mr. Windham’s light was +hid under a bushel for a whole session, when he +was most conscious of his own brilliancy, and +most eager to illumine the public. He had +offended the reporters; and to punish him, the +people of Great Britain were kept in the dark.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Besides the temptation which he had in common +with them,—that of suppressing through +pique and prejudice,—Owen was subjected to +another. Again and again was he insulted by +the offer of a bribe, or by an attempt at intimidation. +One day, when he had been reporting +in court, Mr. Arruther crossed over to him, and +with a dubious manner, between shyness and +condescension, asked him to drop in and take a +glass of wine with him at his inn, that evening, +as he had something to say to him.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Owen had never used any disguise as to his +opinions of Mr. Arruther’s parliamentary conduct; +and he therefore believed that if the gentleman +bestowed any thoughts on him at all, they +could scarcely be very affectionate ones. He +was surprised, of course, at finding himself received +with as much cordiality as a person of +little sensibility could throw into his manner. +The wine on the table was excellent; the invitations +to partake of it hearty; and the object +of the invitation presently disclosed.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mr. Arruther could not conceive why Owen +troubled himself to report all the law proceedings +that took place in the court. Many of them +could interest none but the parties concerned. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.104'>104</span>What had the public to do, for instance, with his +cousin Ellen’s quarrels with him about his +mother’s property? Where was the use of +printing law-suits,—dull things to read, as they +were tiresome to manage? Owen explained that +his business was to report. It was the affair of +the readers of the paper what they would skip as +dull, and what they chose to consider indispensable. +He understood from his employer that no +part of the paper was more narrowly watched +than the law reports; and this was not surprising, +as it was by means of these law reports alone +that a great number of persons could gain accurate +information respecting the laws to which +they were subject. If he were obliged to regard +the representations made to him as to what +should be left out of the paper, there would soon +be nothing left in it: for there were few kinds of +intelligence that it was not the wish of some +person or another to conceal: but, if he had to +choose what particular department should be +omitted, it should certainly be almost any rather +than the law-reports. Other kinds of information +had some chance of travelling round by +some different means; but the newspapers were +almost the only guides of the subjects of the State +as to their duty to the State. He knew that Mr. +Arruther was of opinion that the people had +nothing to do with the laws but to obey them; +but people could not well obey the laws without +knowing what they were: so that Mr. Arruther, +who wished the laws to be obeyed, should +not grudge the people the little they might learn +of them through the newspapers.</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_5.105'>105</span>“Then, pray,” said the gentleman, “do not +cut short that cause about Thirlaway’s road, that +kept us all waiting such a confounded time this +morning. Give it all; let them have every line +of it; and if you find it likely to fill your paper, +you can leave out my affairs, to make room for +it.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I hope to be able to manage both, sir. The +leading arguments on each side of all the causes +tried this morning can be offered without transgressing +our limits.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Better print the other entire. Do you know, +Mr. Owen, I will give you a shilling a line to see +how complete a thing you can make of it, provided +you leave out mine to make room.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You do not know the person you have to +deal with, Mr. Arruther. A man cannot be a +reporter for a twelvemonth without knowing +something of the practice of ‘feeing the fourth +estate,’ as people say. I am upon my guard, sir, +I assure you; and the less you say on this head +the better, for your own sake.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“On your guard! Bless me! What an expression,—as +if I had said anything wrong! Do +you suppose I do not know the customs of your +craft? Till the management of a newspaper +becomes a less expensive affair than it is at present, +I do not know what better plan there can be +than making out the pay of reporters for what +they bring to the compositor, by letting them take +fees for what they suppress. Such a custom is +so convenient to all parties, that I wonder at your +pretending to dislike it.”</p> + +<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_5.106'>106</span>“When you call it convenient to all parties, +sir, you seem to forget the principal party concerned. +However it may be with the proprietor +of the paper, and with the reporter, and those +who tender the fee, it is not very convenient to +the public that their supply of information should +depend on the length of a few purses, whose +owners may wish to make private certain of their +proceedings which ought to be public. It may +prove convenient to some of your constituents, +sir, if not to you, that it should be known exactly +how you stand in that cause which was tried this +morning. It is always convenient to electors to +know as much as they can learn of the character +of their representatives. I believe that I have +no right to keep back such information; and the +report will therefore appear to-morrow, at the +same length as is generally allotted to causes of +that nature.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mr. Arruther explained in vain how particularly +provoking his mother’s will had been; how +unexpected it was that his cousin Ellen should +have been stirred up to sue him; how little idea +he had till this morning of the extent to which +his lawyer had deceived him about the merits of +his own case; how glad he should be if the +whole could now be dropped and privately arranged; +and, finally and especially, how little +the public had to do with whether he tried to keep +his mother’s property, or quietly let it go to somebody +else. It was in vain that he urged all this. +Owen could not see why any of these considerations +should interfere with the advantage which +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.107'>107</span>the readers of the paper would derive from the +knowledge of Mr. Arruther’s proceedings. That +this gentleman had a bad cause to maintain +might be a very sufficient reason for his present +condescension, and for his offering to double and +treble his bribe; but it afforded the strongest possible +inducement to Owen to publish the whole, +for the guidance of those who had it in their +power to withdraw this unworthy man from public +life. Mr. Arruther grew angry when all the +offers he could make for the suppression of the +report were simply declined.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I do not know, sir, what has made you my +enemy,” he observed. “But you are my enemy, +sir. Don’t deny it. Do you think I am not +aware of what you have done, first in trying to +deprive me of the support of the editor of the +‘Western Star;’ and, when you could not succeed +in that, in exposing me privately wherever +you could?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“How do you use the word ‘privately,’ Mr. +Arruther? If you mean that I have whispered +things to your disadvantage, or used any kind of +secrecy in what I have said, you are mistaken. +If you mean that I have printed nothing against +you, you are quite correct; but the reason is, +that I have not had the power. If there had +been any independent newspaper in the district, +where I might have said what you allude to, it +would have saved me the trouble of writing many +letters, and have enabled me to do my duty much +more effectually than it has been done. If you +feel yourself aggrieved from the same cause; if +you desire an opportunity of publicly contradicting +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.108'>108</span>what has been said about your scanty attendance +at the House, and the course of your political +conduct when there; if you really wish for a +fair discussion of your public character, you will +assist those of us who are anxious to set up a +newspaper as nearly independent as the circumstances +of the time will allow.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Not I. We have too many newspapers +already. I shall not countenance the setting up +of any more.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Too many already,” repeated Owen, smiling +as his eye fell on a little table on which lay seven +or eight newspapers, received this morning, and +destined to be replaced by the same number +to-morrow. “Too many! That depends on +how they are divided. Perhaps you forget, sir, +that while Members of Parliament have seven +or eight to themselves every day, there are +seven or eight thousand people who see but +one paper, and seven or eight millions of persons +who never see one at all. You may feel +yourself ready for your morning ride before +you have half got through such a pile of papers +as lies there, and may find it a tiresome +part of your duty to read so much politics every +day; but if you steal into the dark bye-places of +a town like this, and hear what people are saying +in their ignorance against being governed at +all; if you go out upon the sheep-walks, and see +the country folks growing into the likeness of +stocks and stones, for want of having their human +reason exercised; if you will ride down any Saturday +into our own village, and see the scramble there +is for a single copy of an inferior provincial +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.109'>109</span>paper, you will presently lose the fancy that we +have too many newspapers already.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Too many by that one copy you spoke of, in +my opinion, Mr. Owen. The people in Arneside +did very well without any newspaper when I +was a boy, I remember. I wish you had been +pleased to consult me before you took such a +step as sending them one. You should know +better than to fall into the propensity of the time, +for pampering the common people. You talk as +wisely as anybody about putting gin in their way, +and I do not see that they want news any +more than gin. That was one of the few good +things my mother used to say. When some +complaint came to her ears about the price of +newspapers, she asked whether anybody thought +any harm of taxing gin; and whether the common +people could not do without news as well as +without spirits. She was right enough, for once. +The common people can do without news. News +is a luxury, as somebody said.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“O, yes. News can be done without; and +so can many other things. You may lock a man +into a house, and he will still live. You may +darken his windows from the sun at noonday, +and the stars at night, and he will still live. You +may let in no air but what comes down the +chimney, and he will still live. You may chain +him to the bed-post, you may stuff his ears, and +cover his eyes, and tie his hands behind him, and +he can ‘do without’ the use of his limbs and his +senses, and of God’s noblest works: but it was +not for this that God sent his sun on its course, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.110'>110</span>and set the stars rolling in their spheres, and +freshened the breezy hills, and gave muscles to +our strong limbs, and nerves to our delicate +organs. He did not make his beautiful world +that one might walk abroad on it, while a thousand +are shut into a dark dungeon. Neither did +he give men the curiosity with which they watch +and listen, and the imagination with which they +wander forth, and the reason with which they +meditate among his works, that the one might be +baffled, and the others fettered and enfeebled. +And what does any one gain by such tyranny? +Does the sun shine more brightly when a man +thinks he has it all to himself, than when the +reapers are merry in the field, and the children +are running after butterflies in the meadow? +Would Orion glow more majestically to any one +man if he could build a wall up to the high +heaven, and stop the march of the constellation, +and part it off, that common eyes might not look +upon it? If not, neither can any one gain by +shutting up that which God has made as common +to the race as the lights of his firmament, and +the winds which come and go as he wills. That +word ‘news’ is a little word and a common +word; but it means all that is great as the results +of the day, and holy as the march of the +starry night. It is the manifestation of man’s +most freshly compounded emotions, the record of +his most recent experiences, and the revelation of +God’s latest providences on earth. Are these things +to be kept from the many by the few, under the +notion that they are property? Are these things +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.111'>111</span>now to be doled out at the pleasure, and to suit +the purposes of an order of men, as the priests of +Catholic countries measured out their thimblefull +of the waters of life, in the name of him who +opened up the spring, and invited every one that +thirsted to come and drink freely? To none has +authority been given to mete out knowledge, +according to their own sense of fitness, any +more than to those priests of old; but on all is +imposed the religious duty of providing channels +by which the vital streams of knowledge shall +be brought to every man’s door. If, in this day, +any man who seeks to be a social administrator +desires that the few should cover up their reservoirs +lest they should overflow for the refreshment +of the many, it is no wonder if his cistern +grows so foul as to make him question in right +earnest at last, whether there be not something +more poisonous in the draught than in gin +itself; and much that is perilous in the eagerness +of the crowd who rush to lap whatever cannot +be prevented from leaking out.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You mean to say that our universities are +fouled reservoirs, I suppose? It would become +you to speak more modestly till you have been +there.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I know nothing of what is within the universities, +further than by watching what comes +out. The vague idea that I have of the knowledge +that pervades them is perhaps as reverential +as you, or any other son of such an institution, +can desire: but I own that my reverence would +be more ardent and affectionate if I could see +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.112'>112</span>that that knowledge made its partakers happier +than it does.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Happier! How can you possibly tell? How +should you know, when I am the only university-man, +I believe, that you are acquainted +with?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I judge by what I see. When men enjoy, the +next thing is to communicate; especially when +by communicating they lose nothing themselves. +But it is not so in this case. What have the +universities done towards showing the beauty +and holiness of knowledge, as the most universal +and the highest blessing which God has given to +the living and breathing race of man? What +have the universities done to diffuse their own +treasures into every corner of the land? How +have they applied their knowledge towards the +promotion of the happiness of the state,—opening +their doors to all who would come in, discovering +or sanctioning the best principles of legislation +and government, countenancing public and +private virtue, and being foremost in proposing +and enforcing whatever might fulfil the final purposes +of knowledge by making the greatest +number of rational beings as wise and happy as +the circumstances of the age will admit? While +I see nothing of all this attempted by our universities, +I feel more respect and affection for the +studies which are going forward within a Mechanics’ +Institution (crude and superficial studies, +perhaps, but tending to promote the substantial +happiness of the race), than for the pursuits of a +university, or any other place, where intellectual +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.113'>113</span>luxury is reserved to pamper the few while the +many starve.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I do not see much starving in the case, when +we have not only too many regular newspapers, +but scores of unstamped publications, which circulate +their scores of thousands each. Precious +stuff for your common people to batten upon!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“When we once come to the question of quality, +sir, there may be less to be said than about +quantity. Is there anything here,—or here,”—taking +up the “John Bull” and the “Age,” +“that will make the public wiser and better than +they would become by reading the ‘Twopenny +Treat’ or the ‘Poor Man’s Guardian.’ That there +is any such ‘precious stuff’ for readers to batten +on is the fault of those who, by keeping up one +newspaper monopoly, have created another.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“What new monopoly, pray? And what public +would ever endure two monopolies of the same +article?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“There are two publics to suffer by the two +monopolies. While the tax-gatherers take five-pence +out of every seven-pence that is given for +a newspaper; while the practice of advertising is +so kept down by the duty as to deprive the proprietors +of their legitimate profits; while a capital +of between thirty and forty thousand pounds +is required to conduct a good daily paper, no +journal will or can be honest, cheap, and successful; +and the middle classes, who can afford to see +only one paper, will suffer by the long-established +monopoly of the old journals. While men of +more wit than capital are tempted or driven to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.114'>114</span>evade the law; while adventurers below the reach +of the law are virtually invited to defy and vilify +it, the large class of poor readers will suffer by +the pernicious monopoly which not his Majesty +nor all his Ministers can break up, as long as +legal newspapers are made to cost seven-pence, +while illegal ones may be had for two-pence.—Have +you seen any of these illegal publications?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Yes. Precious stuff! Falsehoods in every +sentence; blunders in every line; as any one who +chose might show in a minute.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Unfortunately, no one will choose it, in the +present state of affairs. It must be easy enough +to controvert any publication so bad as you describe; +but the opportunity is not allowed. These +falsehoods and blunders are crammed down the +people’s throats, and no one can unchoke them, +because the law interferes to prevent the free circulation +of opinions. I know of a young man at +Arneside who actually believes that all master +manufacturers make it a principle and a pleasure +to oppress and worry their workmen, and that +all rulers study nothing so regularly and strenuously +as how to wring the hearts of the greatest +number of people. He reads this (among a +hundred better things) in one of these unstamped +publications, which would either have never existed +at all, or have treated very differently of +politics, if the Stamp Commissioners had taught +it no lesson of hatred against the law.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ah! you mean that brother of yours. I +heard how he was going, poor fool!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“If he is a poor fool, what is it that has prevented +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.115'>115</span>his being wise? He has shown his +disposition to become so by his eagerness after +such reading as he can obtain; and if he has got +so far as to learn the strength of a bad argument, +alas for those who step in to prevent his getting +farther, and learning its weakness in the presence +of a better! If he cannot find sound political +teachers, where lies the blame?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“If you had newspapers quite free, who do you +suppose would write for the common people? We +should be inundated with blasphemous and seditious +publications.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“When a man goes with his money in his +hand to purchase a newspaper, do you think he +is asked whether he is one of the common people? +And when newspapers sell for the cost of +production and a fair profit, who is likely to produce +the best, and sell the most,—the respectable +and educated capitalist, or the ignorant and +needy agitator? When newspapers have fair +play, their success will depend, I fancy, like that +of other articles, on their quality; and I never +yet heard of any instance in which any class of +people failed to purchase the better article in +preference to the worse, when both were fairly +set before them. Moreover, I never heard of a +wise and kind government, whether of a single +family, a city, or a nation, that did not desire +rather than fear that its proceedings should be +known and discussed.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Ah! that shows how little you know of the +plague and mischief of being talked over, when +any business is in hand. If you were in the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.116'>116</span>place of those who have to transact affairs on the +continent, and in our colonies, you would be too +much vexed to laugh at the nonsense that people +believe about us. There is nothing too monstrous +or ridiculous to be credited. A plague on the +foolish tongues that spread such things!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Or rather on the policy which allows such +reports to be originated and to pass current. If +a multitude of the King’s subjects at home, and +of his allies abroad, believe all that is monstrous +of his government, and all that is ridiculous of +his people, it seems time that better means of +knowledge should be given to both. While the +world lasts, social beings can never be prevented +discussing their rulers and their neighbours; and +if we are annoyed at their errors, the alternative +is not silence but truth. When newspapers circulate +untaxed, and not till then, there will be +an approach to a general understanding, and to +social peace.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You are not exactly the person to talk of +social peace, I think, Mr. Owen, when you are +bent on setting me and my electors at variance +by publishing my family quarrels, in spite of all +I can say.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Owen did not choose to remain to be insulted +by further entreaties that he would take a bribe. +He rose, observing that this was a case in which +he had no more concern than with a quarrel in +the Cabinet, and no more option than in announcing +an earthquake at Aleppo. He was a +reporter, and nothing more. If Mr. Arruther +had anything further to say, he must make +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.117'>117</span>his appeal to the proprietors of the “Western +Star.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>A few last words were vouchsafed to him before +he left the room. Their purpose was to assure +him that if this report appeared, he need never +apply to Mr. Arruther for assistance, in case of +his fool of a brother getting into any scrape, or +he himself ever being tried for libel, or any disaster, +public or private, befalling him. If Owen +should, on consideration, decide to accommodate +Mr. Arruther, that gentleman would see what he +could do on any occasion when he might be of +service.</p> + +<h3 id='ch5.8' class='c012'><span class='sc'>Chapter VIII.</span><br> <br>FAMILY SECRETS.</h3> + +<p class='c017'>Mr. Arruther’s evil bodings had had some +effect in depressing Owen’s spirits before he +opened the following letter from his mother, +which he found on the table of his little apartment +when he reached his lodgings. Nurse’s +share of the correspondence with her son usually +consisted of cheerful and loving messages, sent +by some friendly mediator who might be likely +to see Owen, or was about to drop him a line on +business. She had never before sent a letter, +but once; and that was when the clergyman had +stopped her in the churchyard, not only to ask +after all her children, but to praise them according +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.118'>118</span>to their respective deserts. On that occasion, +nurse had gone straight to the schoolmaster, +and asked him to give her a seat beside his desk, +while she told him what she wished to express to +Owen. Then, how had her maternal modesty +raised the blush on her cheek while she made +the effort to repeat the clergyman’s words! and +how, while she looked round on the blazing fire, +the superior lamp, the sanded floor, and neat +shelf of books, did she assure herself that her +old narrow cottage, with its brick floor, was just +as happy a place to so favoured a mother as herself! +She now wrote under different circumstances, +as her letter will show.</p> + +<div class='quote'> + +<p class='c035'>“My dear Son,</p> + +<p class='c001'>“This letter does not come out of the school-room +you know so well, as the last did; though +your old teacher is so good as to be still the +writer. I have asked him to come home with +me, though mine is but a poor place compared +with his. One reason is, that I did not wish +anybody to overhear what I am going to tell you; +and there is no fear of being overheard at home, +as I am mostly alone of an evening. And now +I feel the disadvantage of not being able to +write myself,—that I am obliged to get another +to write what I have to say against my own children. +Yet not against them, neither: for that +seems a hard word to say: but I mean I should +have been loth anybody should know that we are +not altogether so happy as we once were, if I +could have let you know it in any other way than +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.119'>119</span>this. The short of the matter is, Owen, that +Ambrose is in such a way that I cannot tell what +to say to him next. He and Mr. Waugh have +been quarrelling sadly. It is not for me to say +which is right; and, to be sure, many of Mr. +Waugh’s other workpeople have been doing the +same thing: but all I know is that there were no +such troubles before Ambrose joined the Lodge, +as they call it; and Mr. Waugh gives the same +wages as before, and living is cheaper. I can +only say now that Ambrose is tramping about, +here and there, when work is over, and at times +when he used to be at home; and that he is +grown fond of show; attending a brother’s funeral, +as he called it, yesterday, and thinking more +of the blue ribbons and the procession, I am +afraid, than that a fellow-mortal was gone to his +account. Indeed, he said in the middle of it +that there is nothing like ceremony after all; +which is not just what the Lord would have us +think when he calls a brother away. I lay it all +to the newspaper that Mr. Ryan brought; and +the more that Mr. Ryan was taken up for selling +it, and is now in prison on that account. I little +thought that a child of mine would ever have to +do with what was unlawful; and I never would +have looked at the pictures in this paper if I had +guessed what the justices would think: but Ambrose +was pleased with what Ryan did when he +was taken up; though folks suppose he will not +be let out the sooner for it. He made a great +flourish in the street, and cried out, ‘Englishmen, +will you suffer this?’ It made my heart turn +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.120'>120</span>within me to think that one that I have known +as an honest man for so many years should carry +his grey hairs into a prison; and I never would +have believed that Ryan would do any thing +wrong. Ambrose says he has not, and is getting +up a rejoicing against he comes out of prison: +but the justices say he has; and so what is one +to think? But I wish your brother would be +persuaded to give up thinking of making a triumph +against the justices, when Ryan comes out. +I tell him that it is no triumph, after all, considering +that Ryan will then have been in prison +all the time that it was thought fit he should be +there. But the time is past when anything is +minded that I say; though I ought not to complain, +and do not; being aware, as I always was, +that I say little that is worth minding. Yet I +never had to say this of you; and I am much +mistaken if Ambrose be wiser than you. You +will be asking whether I comfort myself with +Mildred. My dear, I can only say now that +Mildred is no comfort to me; and if you ask +me why, I can no more tell you what has come +over her than if I lived at L——. Sometimes +I think, God help me! that the poor girl hates +me,—for never a word does she speak to me now, +when she can manage to hold her tongue; and, +as sure as ever any neighbour goes out and leaves +us together, she is off like a shot, and I see no +more of her till some third person is here again, +even if that does not happen till morning. I +should be truly thankful if any one would find +out the reason of such a change, for it is more +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.121'>121</span>than I can well bear, if it is not a sin to say so. +I try to comfort myself, my dear boy, with thinking +of you who are nothing but a blessing +to me. I try to be thankful, as in duty bound: +but it so happens, while you are so far away, +and the others just before my eyes, or expected +home every moment and not coming, +I cannot be comforted as it is my duty to +be. It is another trouble to find the neighbours +not what they were to me. Farmer Mason would +not let me go and nurse his wife yesterday, ill as +she is, and with nobody to watch her properly of +a night. He said his cattle had pined of late, +and he had lost all his fowls; looking at me, just +as if I could have helped his losses, when there +is nobody more sorry than I am that such mishaps +should have followed the fire that well nigh +ruined him, so long ago. And so it seems with +others who do not look friendly upon me as they +did. Everything appears to be going wrong +with everybody; and we do not seem able to +comfort one another as we used to do. This is +a sad saying to end with; so I just add that Kate +Jeffery is the same good girl, whatever changes +come over others; and I depend on her going on +in her own right way. You will be glad to hear +this; and I hope you will not make yourself too +uneasy about the rest: but I could not help +opening my mind to you, having always done so +before, and never with so much occasion. And +now I shall wish to know if you have anything +to say upon this. He that holds the pen promises +to read me whatever you may write, very +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.122'>122</span>exactly, and to keep all a secret, we so desiring. +So no more now, except that Mrs. Dowley has +got another boy, and poor widow Wilks’s eldest +has had the measles very bad, but is now better,” +&c. &c.</p> + +</div> + +<p class='c001'>Owen had not the least doubt of his old +teacher’s accuracy in reading the letter now requested, +or of his discretion about its contents; +but Owen had no intention of committing to +paper what he had to say. He must go down to +Arneside, without delay, and see whether anything +could be done to make the people there +happier than they seemed to be at present. He +obtained leave to go down, the next afternoon; +and, in the meantime, got no sleep for thinking +of his mother’s sorrows, and of the hours that +must pass before he could do anything to relieve +them.</p> + +<h3 id='ch5.9' class='c012'><span class='sc'>Chapter IX.</span><br> <br>THE MYSTERIES LAID OPEN.</h3> + +<p class='c017'>While nurse was by turns dictating her letter +and sighing, till the scribe caught the infection, +and lost his spirits; while the wind moaned in +the crevices of the ricketty dwelling, and the +flame of the single candle flared and flickered in +the draughts of the poor apartment, Ambrose +was under a securer shelter, and Mildred under +none at all. Ambrose had been assisting in +swearing in new brothers who had joined his +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.123'>123</span>lodge. He had helped to blindfold them, and +to guide them through the mummeries which +were calculated to answer any purpose rather +than that of adding sanctity to an oath. The +jargon of the verse to be gabbled over, the dressing +up, the locking in, were more like the +Christmas games of very young school-boys than +the actual proceedings, the serious business of +grown men. Mummery has usually or always +arisen from an inconvenient lack of shorter and +plainer methods of explanation, and of facilities +for communication. This sort of picture-writing +is discarded, by common consent, wherever the +press comes in to fulfil the object with more ease, +speed, and exactitude. When Ambrose declared +that “there is nothing like ceremony, after +all,” he testified that he belonged to a nation or +a class which is stinted in the best means of +communication, and kept in an infantine state of +knowledge and pursuit. If he had been growing +up to a period of mature wisdom, like his brother, +he would have told the brethren of his lodge +that there is nothing so childish as ceremony, +after all. To form into a lodge, or a company, +or whatever it may be called, when a number of +men have business to do, is the most ready and +unobjectionable method of transacting that business; +but if the brethren cannot be kept in order +and harmony without being amused by shows, +or excited by mystification, they had far better +be playing cricket on the green, than pretend to +assist in conducting the serious affairs of their +class. Much better would it have been for +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.124'>124</span>Ambrose to have been playing cricket on the +green this evening, than frightening people even +more ignorant than himself with death’s heads, +horrible threats, and oaths made up of the most +alarming words that could be picked out of the +vocabulary of unstamped newspapers. Much +better would it have been for him to have been +reading anything,—book, pamphlet, or newspaper,—than +to have sent his sister on such an +errand as she was transacting on the hills.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mildred was made, without her own knowledge, +a servant of the lodge, a messenger from +all the discontented with whom Ambrose was +connected to all the discontented in the district. +This trouble was imposed upon her because the +country folks were unable to read, and paper was +dear, and advertisements were dearer still. The +object was to bring people together to consult on +their fortunes, and the measures that should be +taken to mend them. Mr. Arruther would have +said that it was well that so improper an object +should be frustrated by the absence of all assistance +from the press: but Mr. Arruther might +have been told that there is no frustrating such +an object; and that the only effect of the press +not being concerned in it was, that the summons +bore a very different character from what it would +have had, if there had been perfect freedom of +communication. In a newspaper, the notice +would have been that people were to meet at +such a spot, at such an hour, and for such and +such a purpose. As it was, Mildred was scudding +over the hills, shivering whenever the gust +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.125'>125</span>overtook her, as if it must bring something +dreadful; starting if she found any one awaiting +her at the appointed places, and trembling if it +was herself that must wait; and faltering or +gabbling in equal terror, as she delivered the +circular which was to be carried forwards by +those whom she met; the circular being as +follows:—</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c029'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“Meet on Arneford Green,</div> + <div class='line'>Six and seven between.</div> + <div class='line'>Bring words as sharp as sickles,</div> + <div class='line in2'>To cut the throats</div> + <div class='line in2'>Of gentlefolks,</div> + <div class='line'>That rob the poor of victuals.</div> + <div class='line'>Hungry guts and empty purse</div> + <div class='line'>May be better, can’t be worse.”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c003'>The political wisdom of the district had discovered +that all was going wrong within it. Farmer +Mason’s live stock was dying off, and his +wife had been long confined to her bed with some +grievous affliction. Neighbour Green’s dog had +gone mad, and had been very near biting some +children that were playing in the road. The +wheat on the uplands looked poorly; and the +mill-stream was dry; so that many of Mr. Waugh’s +workpeople were out of employ. It must be a +very bad government that allowed all this to +happen at once, some people said: but there were +many who hinted that the blame did not all rest +with the Government, and that there was one +person who might some day prove to have had +more to do with those disasters than everybody +liked to say. This hint had gone the round, and +become amplified in its course, till it was considered +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.126'>126</span>a settled matter by every one who entertained +the subject at all, that nurse Ede was +quite as pernicious to Arneside as the Government +and all the gentlefolks put together; and +that there should be no attempt at rebellion +till nurse had been called to account for her +witcheries.</p> + +<p class='c001'>The affair had been brought to a crisis by this +evening, when Mildred was delivering her circular +on the hills. She was expected and lain in +wait for. Suddenly she fell in with a party who +would not let her proceed till she had been sworn +on her knees to tell all she knew of her mother’s +proceedings, of the nature of her intercourse +with her black cat, and of the uses of the mysterious +apparatus which now filled her cupboard +as well as the shelf. The girl knew nothing of +what she was required to confess; but she did +what she could to please her tyrants. She +poured out all the nonsensical fancies, all the +absurd suspicions, which had been accumulating +in her ignorant mind from the days of her +childhood till now. The sum total proved even +more satisfactory than the party had expected.—There +was now but one thing to be done. Nurse +must be forced to recant, and make reparation; +and that as soon as possible. The managers of +the enterprise must not quit their hold of her +till she had begun to restore Mrs. Mason; revive +the calves and poultry that remained alive, if +she could not restore those which were dead; set +the mill-wheel revolving again; brought showers +upon the upland corn-fields, and confessed precisely +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.127'>127</span>what kind and degree of influence she had +exerted over poor Mrs. Arruther: for it was not +to be forgotten how the lightning had split +the tree beside the lady’s monument, the last +thing before it fired Farmer Mason’s barn.</p> + +<p class='c001'>While all this was passing, nurse had dismissed +the good-natured schoolmaster, and had +looked after him from the door, shading her +candle with her apron, till she could see him no +longer; and had sat down, with a sigh at her +loneliness, to mend one more pair of stockings +for Ambrose, to take the chance of one or other +of her children coming home for the night. She +had nearly given the matter up when she thought +she heard a little noise outside the door. As +she looked up, she saw a very white face pressed +close to the window, and looking in upon her.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Come in! Who’s there? Lift up the +latch and come in, whoever you are,” cried she, +who, having never wished harm to any human +being, had no fear of receiving harm from the +hands of any. “My girl!” exclaimed she, as +Mildred stood on the threshold, looking uncertain +whether to set foot in the cottage, or to retreat, +“My dear, ye are right enough to come +home to a warm bed to-night. It will be but a +chilly night for sleeping beside the fold, if that +is really what ye do when ye don’t come home. +I’ve been looking for ye, my dear; so, come in, +and shut the door, and see what supper I’ve been +keeping ready for ye. Why do ye keep standing +outside in that way, Mildred?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>As nurse sat at the table, looking over her +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.128'>128</span>spectacles, with her candle on one side, and the +cat on the other, drowsily opening and shutting +its eyes, as if quite at ease, there seemed to be +something which prevented Mildred from advancing +a step towards the party. She only said +in a shrill tone,</p> + +<p class='c001'>“They’re coming.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>Who was coming,—whether Ambrose and +the brethren from the lodge, or the long-dreaded +Turks, or any people more to be feared still, +could not be ascertained. All that could be got +out of Mildred was, “They’re coming.” The +door was still standing wide, the parley was still +proceeding, when they came.</p> + +<p class='c001'>A night of horrors followed; horrors which +were once perpetrated in the metropolitan cities +of mighty empires; and then descended to inferior +towns; and then were banished to the +country; and now are seldom to be heard of, +even in the remotest haunts of ignorance. But +such horrors are not yet extinct. Since the +sacrifice of nurse Ede, others, perhaps as guileless +and kind of heart, have met a fate like hers.</p> + +<p class='c001'>During the whole of the dreadful scene of violence +and torment, the mother called on her +children. As if they had all been present, she +implored them to bear witness as to what her +life had been, and to save her from her persecutors. +She had reared her sons with incessant +watchfulness, from the time that their little hands +could only grasp her finger, up to the manly +strength which might have saved her now: but +Owen was far away, dreaming of no evil; and +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.129'>129</span>as for Ambrose, his face was never seen, all +that night. Mildred was present,—standing in +her mother’s view during all those fearful hours; +but the call on her was also in vain. She stood +staring, with her arms by her sides, and her hair +on end, only wincing and moving back a little +when her mother’s appeals to her became particularly +vehement. This was the child who had +been the object of as fond parental hopes as had +ever been shed over the unconsciousness of infancy. +Hers was the arm which was to have +been her mother’s support to church on Sabbath +days. Hers were the hands which were to +have relieved her parent of the more laborious +of their homely tasks. She it was who should +have enlivened the day with her cheerful industry, +and amused the evening with the intelligence +which nurse had done her best to put in the way +of improvement. This was the child! And +this was the contrast which flitted through her +unhappy mother’s mind as she was dragged past +Mrs. Arruther’s monument, and taunted with the +memory of that poor lady.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Mrs. Arruther and she were both unhappy as +mothers. The child of the one was as destitute +(whatever might be his scholarship) of all the +knowledge which is of most value in the conduct +and embellishment of life, as these his despised +neighbours; and the protracted torment which +he caused his parent might, in its sum, equal +that which nurse was enduring to-night. The +crowning proof of his substantial ignorance was +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.130'>130</span>his desire and endeavour to keep others in that +state of darkness of which the deeds of this night +were some of the results. There will be no more +mothers so wretched as Mrs. Arruther and her +nurse when mothers themselves shall know how +to give their children true knowledge; and when +their children shall have access to that true +knowledge without hindrance and without measure.</p> + +<p class='c001'>One thrilling sound of complaint at last penetrated +the chamber of the clergyman; and, in +consequence, nurse was presently in her own bed, +attended upon by Kate Jeffery, while Mildred +sat in a corner of the cottage, staring as before. +She let Kate bring her to the bedside, when her +parent’s unquenchable tenderness was kindling +up once more; but the girl was pitiably at a loss +what to say, and how to conduct herself.</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I never did, my dear; if you will believe the +last words I shall ever speak. I never did, or +thought of doing such things as they say. Tell +them so, when I am gone; will you? Only tell +them what I said. O Mildred, cannot you promise +me even that much?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“She is mazed,” said Kate Jeffery, in excuse +of her old play-fellow. “She will come to, by-and-by.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“I wish I was mazed, if it be not thankless to +say so,” muttered nurse. “But it will all be +over soon. Well: it is God’s will that my son +Owen is so far from me at this time.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>She little guessed how soon her son Owen +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.131'>131</span>would be standing where Kate was now. But, +soon as it was, it was too late for nurse.</p> + +<p class='c001'>It was indeed a withered and haggard cheek +(as nurse once anticipated) that her children +looked upon as they watched her rest;—not her +breathing sleep, but her last long rest. Owen +must have been quite overthrown by meeting +such a shock on his arrival, or he could never +have spoken to Mildred as he did. He upbraided +her for the stupidity with which she had given +ear to the ridiculous falsehoods which had been +hatched against one of the most harmless +women that had ever lived: falsehoods that any +child in L would have been ashamed to be +asked to believe. But it was impossible that +Mildred, or any one else, could have really credited +such things. It could have been only a pretence</p> + +<p class='c001'>“No; no pretence,” Kate interposed to say. +“There would have been no malice, if there had +not been profound ignorance. No one could +have helped loving nurse, and doing nothing but +good to her, up to her dying day, if it had but +been known why and how she practised her art; +and that no woman has really the power, by +prayers and charms, of stopping mill-streams +and maddening dogs.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“How could I tell?” mournfully asked Mildred. +“They all said——I’m sure I thought +they would have killed me first. They all said, +and they all think, that she was an awful and +a wicked woman; and what else could I think? +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.132'>132</span>I’m sure I never durst touch her, or scarce anything +that she had touched before me, after what +Maude Hallowell told me.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“You are out of your mind, I think,” said +Owen, bitterly. “To talk as you do, and she +lying there!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“And if Mildred was out of her mind, Mr. +Owen,” said Kate, in a low voice, “is she to be +taunted with it, as if it was her fault? I should +rather say that she has very little mind; for hers +seems to me never to have grown since we were +at the Sunday school together. Surely, Mr. +Owen, it is the narrow mind that is least able to +help itself under foolish fears, and any horrible +fancy that may be riding it till it is weary. +Surely it is not merciful to taunt a mind that is +so miserable in itself already.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Then I will not taunt her, Kate. It will be +sorrow enough to her, all her days, to have to +pass my mother’s grave, and think how she was +sent there. Go, poor girl, and tell the clergyman +that it is all over. Nobody shall hurt you: +I will take care of you. Nobody shall blame you: +the blame shall rest elsewhere.”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Where?” asked the bewildered girl, as, in a +flurried manner, she tied on her bonnet to go to +the clergyman. “What are you going to do +now, Owen? Where——what did you say +last?”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“That nobody shall blame you, as I did just +now, for what has happened to our mother. It +is no fault of yours, Mildred, any more than it +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.133'>133</span>can be called Ambrose’s fault that he now lies in +prison——”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“In prison!”</p> + +<p class='c001'>“Yes: he has been taken there (God knows +whether according to law or not) for the part he +has taken about swearing in the brothers at his +Lodge. There he was, poor fellow, when my +mother was calling upon him in a way to break a +heart of stone, they say.” Owen saw the convulsion +which passed over his sister’s countenance +as he made this allusion; and he resolved to refer +to that dreadful scene no more. “Whatever may +be done with Ambrose, he has perished. His +life is blasted, whether, as some suppose, he is +sent abroad, or whether his punishment is to be +worked out at home. How should he have +known better? The only bit of law he knew, he +learned by accident from a newspaper; and +when he would have learned more, the only +lesson-book he could get taught him wrong; +and it could never have taught him so wrong, if +those which would have instructed him better had +not been kept out of his reach. The judge and +gaoler are to be his teachers now. Those little +know what they are about who take pains,—for +any purpose,—to hold men ignorant. If they +could keep the light of the sun from the earth +with the thickest of clouds, they would do +mischief enough in making the plants come up +sickly, and the tall trees dwindle away, and +rendering every thing fearful and dismal, +wherever we turn: but all this is harmless trifling +<span class='pageno' id='Page_5.134'>134</span>compared with the practice of keeping the mind +without the light which God has provided for +it. This it is that brings discontent towards +God, and bad passions among men; temptation +to guilt to the careless, and long heart-suffering +to the kindest and best; and the fiercest of murders +as the end of all. O, mother! mother!”</p> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c004'> + <div>THE END.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='pbb'> + <hr class='pb c000'> +</div> +<p class='c001'><a id='endnote'></a></p> +<div class='tnotes'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> + <div class='nf-center'> + <div><span class='large'>Transcriber’s Note</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c001'>At line <a id='c_4.42.18'></a><a href='#corr4.42.18'>4.42.18</a> in ‘The Jerseymen Parting’, the speaker ‘Le Brocq’ is +most likely ‘Durell’, Le Brocq being currently incarcerated.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Some compound words appear both hyphenated and unhyphenated. When the word is +hyphenated on a line break, the hyphen is either retained or removed depending +on the prevalent form elsewhere; e.g. ‘farmhouse(s)’, ‘lawsuit’, ‘shopkeeper(s)’, +‘thunderstorm’, ‘babyhouse’, ‘coast-guard’, ‘fourpenny’, ‘a-piece’, ‘haymakers’, +‘goodwill’, ‘re-appeared’, ‘runaway’, ‘seafowl’, ‘small-clothes’, ‘stone-ware’.</p> + +<p class='c001'>Other errors deemed most likely to be the printer’s have been corrected, and +are noted here. The references are to the work, page and line in the original.</p> + +<table class='table7'> +<colgroup> +<col class='colwidth12'> +<col class='colwidth69'> +<col class='colwidth18'> +</colgroup> + <tr> + <td class='c014'><a id='c_1.11.28'></a><a href='#corr1.11.28'>1.11.28</a></td> + <td class='c014'>I shall have them taken care of[f].”</td> + <td class='c036'>Removed.</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c014'><a id='c_2.28.3'></a><a href='#corr2.28.3'>2.28.3</a></td> + <td class='c014'>your[’]s was bad advice.</td> + <td class='c036'>Removed.</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c014'><a id='c_2.44.8'></a><a href='#corr2.44.8'>2.44.8</a></td> + <td class='c014'>that[ that] thou wouldst make haste</td> + <td class='c036'>Removed.</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c014'><a id='c_2.65.21'></a><a href='#corr2.65.21'>2.65.21</a></td> + <td class='c014'>of the church.[.]</td> + <td class='c036'>Removed.</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c014'><a id='c_2.88.26'></a><a href='#corr2.88.26'>2.88.26</a></td> + <td class='c014'>by the tithe-proct[e/o]r</td> + <td class='c036'>Replaced.</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c014'><a id='c_3.66.13'></a><a href='#corr3.66.13'>3.66.13</a></td> + <td class='c014'>as you did at St. Heliers.[’/”]</td> + <td class='c036'>Replaced.</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c014'><a id='c_3.94.22'></a><a href='#corr3.94.22'>3.94.22</a></td> + <td class='c014'>“You can tell him to[ /-]morrow.”</td> + <td class='c036'>Replaced.</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c014'><a id='c_3.112.2'></a><a href='#corr3.112.2'>3.112.2</a></td> + <td class='c014'>putting in metal after g[ua/au]ge</td> + <td class='c036'>Transposed.</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c014'><a id='c_3.115.27'></a><a href='#corr3.115.27'>3.115.27</a></td> + <td class='c014'>the alkaline l[ey/ye] from the copper</td> + <td class='c036'>Transposed.</td> + </tr> +</table> + +</div> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77059 ***</div> + </body> + <!-- created with ppgen.py 3.57e on 2025-10-15 06:51:09 GMT --> +</html> + diff --git a/77059-h/images/cover.jpg b/77059-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a32b75c --- /dev/null +++ b/77059-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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