"Perhaps," replied Harry, doubtfully; "but I always hate any thing that I am obliged to do."
"Then never be a sailor, as I shall be obliged to do fifty things a-day that I would rather not; for instance, to get up in the middle of the night, when very likely dreaming about being at home again; but, as grandmama says, it is pleasant to have some duties, for life would not get on well without them."
"Yes--perhaps--I don"t know!--we could find plenty to do ourselves, without anybody telling us. I should like to-morrow, to watch the boys playing at cricket, and to see the races, and the Diorama, and in the evening to shoot our bows and arrows."
"My good Sir! what the better would you, or anybody else, be of such a life as that! Not a thing in this world is made to be useless, Harry; the very weeds that grow in the ground are for some serviceable purpose, and you would not wish to be the only creature on earth living entirely for yourself. It would be better if neither of us had ever been born, than that the time and opportunities which G.o.d gives us for improving ourselves and doing good to others, should all be wasted. Let me hope, Harry, when I am away, that you will often consider how dull grandmama may then feel, and how happy you might make her by being very attentive and obedient."
"Yes, Frank! but I could never fill your place!--that is quite impossible! n.o.body can do that!"
"Try!--only try, Harry! grandmama is very easily pleased when people do their best. She would not have felt so well satisfied with me, if that had not been the case."
"Frank!" said Harry, sorrowfully, "I feel as if ten brothers were going away instead of one, for you are so good to me! I shall be sure to mention you in my prayers, because that is all I can do for you now."
"Not all, Harry! though that is a great deal; you must write to me often, and tell me what makes you happy or unhappy, for I shall be more interested than ever, now that we are separated. Tell me everything about my school-fellows, too, and about Laura. There is no corner of the wide world where I shall not think of you both every day, and feel anxious about the very least thing that concerns you."
"My dear boys!" said Major Graham, who had joined them some moments before, "it is fortunate that you have both lived always in the same home, for that will make you love each other affectionately as long as you live. In England, children of one family are all scattered to different schools, without any one to care whether they are attached or not, therefore their earliest and warmest friendships are formed with strangers of the same age, whom they perhaps never see again, after leaving school. In that case, brothers have no happy days of childhood to talk over in future life, as you both have,--no little sc.r.a.pes to remember, that they got into together--no pleasures enjoyed at the same moment to smile at the recollection of, and no friction of their tempers in youth, such as makes every thing go on smoothly between brothers when they grow older; therefore, when at last grown up and thrown together, they scarcely feel more mutual friendship and intimacy than any other gentlemen testify towards each other."
"I dare say that is very true," said Frank. "Tom Brownlow tells me when his three brothers come home from Eton, Harrow, and Durham, they quarrel so excessively, that sometimes no two of them are on speaking terms."
"Not at all improbable," observed Major Graham. "In every thing we see how much better G.o.d"s arrangements are than our own. Families were intended to be like a little world in themselves--old people to govern the young ones--young people to make their elders cheerful--grown-up brothers and sisters to show their juniors a good example--and children to be playthings and companions to their seniors, but that is all at an end in the present system."
"Old Andrew says that large families "squander" themselves all over the earth now," said Frank, laughing.
"Yes! very young children are thrust into preparatory schools--older boys go to distant academies--youths to College--and young men are shipped off abroad, while who among them all can say his heart is in his own home? Parents in the meantime, finding no occupation or amus.e.m.e.nt in educating their children, begin writing books, perhaps theories of education, or novels; and try to fill up the rest of their useless hours with plays, operas, concerts, b.a.l.l.s, or clubs. If people could only know what is the best happiness of this life, it certainly depends on being loved by those we belong to; for nothing can be called peace on earth, which does not consist in family affection, built upon a strong foundation of religion and morality."
Sir Edward Graham felt very proud of Frank, as all gentlemen are of their eldest sons, and wrote a most affectionate letter on the occasion of his going to sea, promising to meet him at Portsmouth, and lamenting that he still felt so ill and melancholy he could not return home, but meant to try whether the baths in Germany would do him any good. In this letter was enclosed what he called "Frank"s first prize-money," the largest sum the young midshipman had ever seen in his life, and before it had been a day in his possession, more than the half was spent on presents to his friends. Not a single person seemed to be forgotten except himself; for Frank was so completely unselfish, that Peter Grey once laughingly said, "Frank scarcely remembers there is such a person as himself in the world, therefore it is astonishing how he contrives to exist at all."
"If that be his worst fault, you shew him a very opposite example, Peter," said Major Graham, smiling; "number one is a great favourite with you."
"Frank is also very obliging!" added Lady Harriet; "he would do anything for any body."
"Ah, poor fellow! he can"t help that," said Peter, in a tone of pity.
"Some people are born with that sort of desperate activity--flying to a.s.sist every one--running up stairs for whatever is wanted--searching for whatever is lost--and picking up whatever has been dropped. I have seen several others like Frank, who were troubled with that sort of turn. He is indulging his own inclination in flying about everywhere for everybody, as much as I do in sitting still!--it is all nature!--you know tastes differ, for some people like apples and some like onions."
Frank had a black shade of himself, drawn in uniform and put into a gilt frame, all for one shilling, which he presented to his grandmama, who looked sadly at the likeness when he came smiling into her dressing-room, and calling Harry to a.s.sist in knocking a nail into the wall, that it might be hung above the chimney-piece. "I need nothing to remind me of you, dear Frank," observed Lady Harriet, "and this is a sad exchange, the shadow for the substance." Frank gave a handsome new red morocco spectacle-case to uncle David, and asked leave to carry away the old one with him as a remembrance. He bought gowns for all the maids, and books for all the men-servants. He presented Mrs. Crabtree with an elegant set of tea-cups and saucers, promising to send her a box of tea the first time he went to China; and for Laura and Harry he produced a magnificent magic lanthorn, representing all the stars and planets, which cost him several guineas. It was exhibited the evening before Frank went away, and caused great entertainment to a large party of his companions, who a.s.sembled at tea to take leave of him, on which occasion Peter Grey made a funny speech, proposing Frank"s health in a b.u.mper of bohea, when the whole party became very merry, and did not disperse till ten.
Major Graham intended accompanying Frank to Portsmouth, and they were to set off by the mail next evening. That day was a sad one to Harry and Laura, who were allowed a whole holiday; but not a sound of merriment was heard in the house, except when Frank tried to make them cheerful, by planning what was to be done after he came back, or when Major Graham invented droll stories about the adventures Frank would probably meet with at sea. Even Mrs. Crabtree looked more grave and cross than usual; and she brought Frank a present of a needle-case made with her own hands, and filled with thread of every kind, saying, that she heard all "midshipmites" learned to mend their things, and keep them decent, which was an excellent custom, and ought to be encouraged; but she hoped he would remember, that "a st.i.tch in time saves nine."
Lady Harriet stayed most of that day in her dressing-room, and tried to conceal the traces of many tears when she did appear; but it was only too evident how sadly her time had been pa.s.sed alone.
"Grandmama!" said Frank, taking her hand affectionately, and trying to look cheerful; "we shall meet again; perhaps very soon!"
Lady Harriet silently laid her hand upon the Bible, to show that there she found the certain a.s.surance of another meeting in a better world; but she looked at Frank with melancholy affection, and added, very solemnly and emphatically,
""There is no union here of hearts, That finds not here an end.""
"But, grandmama! you are not so very old!" exclaimed Laura, earnestly.
"Lord Rockville was born ten years sooner, and besides, young people sometimes die before older people."
"Yes, Laura! young people may die, but old people must. It is not possible that this feeble aged frame of mine can long remain in the visible world. "The eye of him that hath seen me shall me no more." I have many more friends under the earth now, than on it. The streets of this city would be crowded, if all those I once knew and still remember, could be revived; but my turn is fast coming, like theirs, and Frank knows, as all of you do, where it is my hope and prayer that we may certainly meet again."
"Grandmama!" said Frank, in a low and broken voice, "it wants but an hour to the time of my departure; I should like much if the servants were to come up now for family prayers and if uncle David would read us the 14th chapter of St. John."
Lady Harriet rung the bell, and before long the whole household had a.s.sembled, as not one would have been absent on the night of Master Frank"s departure from home, which all were deeply grieved at, and even Mrs. Crabtree dashed a tear from her cheek as she entered the room.
Frank sat with his hand in Lady Harriet"s, while Major Graham read the beautiful and comforting chapter which had been selected, and when the whole family kneeled in solemn prayer together, many a deep sob, which could not be conquered, was heard from Frank himself. After all was over, he approached the servants, and silently shook hands with each, but could not attempt to speak; after which Lady Harriet led him to her dressing-room, where they remained some time, till, the carriage having arrived, Frank hastened into the drawing-room, clasped Harry and Laura in his arms, and having, in a voice choked with grief, bid them both a long farewell, he hurried out of their presence.
When the door closed, something seemed to fall heavily on the ground, but this scarcely attracted any one"s attention, till Major Graham followed Frank, and was shocked to find him lying on the staircase perfectly insensible. Instead of calling for a.s.sistance, however, uncle David carefully lifted Frank in his own arms, and carried him to the carriage, where, after a few moments, the fresh air, and the rapid motion revived his recollection, and he burst into tears.
"Poor grandmama! and Harry and Laura!" cried he, weeping convulsively.
"Oh! when shall I see them all again!"
"My dear boy!" said Major Graham, trying to be cheerful; "do you think n.o.body ever left home before? One would suppose you never expected to come back! Three years seem an age when we look forward, but are nothing after they have fled. The longer we live, the shorter every year appears, and it will seem only the day after to-morrow when you are rushing into the house again, and all of us standing at the door to welcome you back. Think what a joyous moment that will be! There is a wide and wonderful world for you to see first, and then a happy home afterwards to revisit."
"Yes, dear, good, kind uncle David! no one ever had a happier home; and till the east comes to the west, I shall never cease to think of it with grat.i.tude to you and grandmama. We shall surely all meet again. I must live upon that prospect. Hope is the jewel that remains wherever we go, and the hope to which grandmama has directed me, is truly compared to a rainbow, which not only brightens the earth, but stretches to heaven."
CHAPTER XIII.
THE AMUSING DRIVE.
I would not enter on my list of friends (Though grac"d with polish"d manners and fine sense, Yet wanting sensibility) the man Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm.
Cowper.
Lady Harriet was confined to bed for several days after Frank"s departure from home, and during all that week Harry and Laura felt so melancholy, that even Mrs. Crabtree became sorry for them, saying it was quite distressing to see how quiet and good they had become, for Master Harry was as mild as milk now, and she almost wished he would be at some of his old tricks again.
On the following Monday, a message arrived from Lady Rockville, to say that she was going a long drive in her phaeton, to visit some boys at Musselburgh school, and would be happy to take Harry and Laura of the party, if their grandmama had no objection. None being made by anybody, they flew up stairs to get ready, while Harry did not take above three steps at a time, and Laura, when she followed, felt quite astonished to find Mrs. Crabtree looking almost as pleased as herself, and saying she hoped the expedition would do them both good.
Before five minutes had elapsed, Harry was mounted on the d.i.c.key, where Lady Rockville desired him to sit, instead of the footman, who was now dismissed, as no room could be made for both; so after that Harry touched his hat whenever any of the party spoke to him, as if he had really been the servant.
Laura, meanwhile, was placed between Lady Rockville and Miss Perceval, where she could hardly keep quiet a minute for joy, though afraid to turn her head or to stir her little finger, in case of being thought troublesome.
"I am told that the races take place at Musselburgh to-day," said Lady Rockville. "It is a cruel amus.e.m.e.nt, derived from the sufferings of n.o.ble animals; they have as good a right to be happy in the world as ourselves, Laura; but we shall pa.s.s that way, so Harry and you will probably see the crowds of carriages."
"Oh, how enchanting!--I never saw a race-course in my life!" exclaimed Laura, springing off her seat with delight. "Harry! Harry! we are going to the races!"
"Hurra!" exclaimed Harry, clapping his hands; "what a delightful surprise! Oh! I am so dreadfully happy!"
"After all, my dear Lady Rockville," said Miss Perceval, yawning, "what have horses got legs for, except to run?"
"Yes, but not at such a pace! It always shocked me--formerly at Doncaster, where the jockeys were sometimes paid 1000 for winning--to see how the poor animals were lashed and spurred along the course, foaming with fatigue, gasping till they nearly expired. Horses, poor creatures, from the hour of their birth till their death, have a sad time of it!"
"Grandmama once read me a beautiful description of a wild horse in his natural state of liberty," said Laura. "Among the South American forests he was to be seen carrying his head erect, with sparkling eyes, flowing mane, and splendid tail, trotting about among the n.o.ble trees, or cropping the gra.s.s at his feet, looking quite princely, and doing precisely what he pleased."
"Then look at the contrast," said Lady Rockville, pointing to a long row of cart-horses with galled sides, shrivelled skins, broken knees, and emaciated bodies, which were all dragging their weary load along.