Comienzo

Scene—_The seaside, near Southampton. The tide coming in._

_Canute._ Is it true, my friends, what you have so often told me, that I am the greatest of monarchs?

_Offa._ It is true, my liege; you are the most powerful of all kings.

_Oswald._ We are all your slaves; we kiss the dust of your feet.

_Offa._ Not only we, but even the elements, are your slaves. The land obeys you from shore to shore; and the sea obeys you.

_Canute._ Does the sea, with its loud boisterous waves, obey me? Will that terrible element be still at my bidding?

_Offa._ Yes, the sea is yours; it was made to bear your ships upon its bosom, and to pour the treasures of the world at your royal feet. It is boisterous to your enemies, but it knows you to be its sovereign.

_Canute._ Is not the tide coming up?

_Oswald._ Yes, my liege; you may perceive the swell already.

_Canute._ Bring me a chair, then; set it here upon the sands.

_Offa._ Where the tide is coming up, my gracious lord?

_Canute._ Yes, set it just here.

_Oswald_ (_aside_). I wonder what he is going to do!

_Offa_ (_aside_). Surely, he is not such a fool as to believe us!

_Canute._ O, mighty ocean! thou art my subject: my courtiers tell me so; and it is thy bounden duty to obey me. Thus, then, I stretch my sceptre over thee, and command thee to retire. Roll back thy swelling waves, nor let them presume to wet the feet of me, thy royal master.

_Oswald_ (_aside_). I believe the sea will pay very little regard to his royal commands.

_Offa._ See how fast the tide rises!

_Oswald._ The next wave will come up to the chair. It is folly to stay; we shall be covered with salt water.

_Canute._ Well, does the sea obey my commands? If it be my subject, it is a very rebellious subject. See how it swells and dashes the angry foam and salt spray over my sacred person. Vile sycophants! did you think I was the dupe of your base lies? that I believed your abject flatteries? Know, there is only one Being whom the sea will obey. He is sovereign of heaven and earth, King of kings, and Lord of lords. It is only he who can say to the ocean—“Thus far shalt thou go, but no farther, and here shall thy proud waves be stayed.” A king is but a man; and a man is but a worm. Shall a worm assume the power of the great God, and think the elements will obey him? Take away this crown, I will never wear it more. May kings learn to be humble from my example, and courtiers learn truth from your disgrace.

DIALOGUE, ON THINGS TO BE LEARNED, BETWEEN MAMMA AND KITTY.

_Kitty._ Pray, mamma, may I leave off working? I am tired.

_Mamma._ You have done very little, my dear; you know you were to finish all that hem.

_K._ But I had rather write now, mamma, or read, or get my French grammar.

_M._ I know very well what that means, Kitty; you had rather do anything than what I set you about.

_K._ No, mamma; but you know I can work very well already, and I have a great many more things to learn. There’s Miss Rich that cannot sew half so well as I, and she is learning music and drawing already, besides dancing, and I don’t know how many other things. She tells me that they hardly work at all in their school.

_M._ Your tongue runs at a great rate, my dear; but, in the first place, you cannot sew very well for if you could, you would not have been so long in doing this little piece. Then I hope you will allow that mammas know better what is proper for their little girls to learn than they do themselves?

_K._ To be sure, mamma; but as I suppose I must learn all these things some time or other, I thought you would like to have me begin them soon, for I have often heard you say that children cannot be set too early about what is necessary for them to do.

_M._ That’s very true; but all things are not equally necessary to every one; for some that are very fit for one, are scarcely proper at all for others.

_K._ Why, mamma?

_M._ Because, my dear, it is the purpose of all education to fit persons for the station in which they are hereafter to live; and you know there are very great differences in that respect, both among men and women.

_K._ Are there? I thought all _ladies_ lived alike.

_M._ It is usual to call all well-educated women, who have no occasion to work for their livelihood, _ladies_; but, if you will think a little, you must see that they live very differently from each other, for their fathers and husbands are in very different ranks and situations in the world, you know.

_K._ Yes, I know that some are lords, and some are ‘squires, and some are clergymen, and some are merchants, and some are doctors, and some are shopkeepers.

_M._ Well: and do you think the wives and daughters of these persons can have just the same things to do, and the same duties to perform? You know how I spend my time. I have to go to market and provide for the family, to look after the servants, to help in taking care of you children, and in teaching you to see that your clothes are in proper condition, and assist in making and mending for myself, and you, and your papa. All this is my necessary duty; and besides this, I must go out a visiting to keep up our acquaintance; this I call partly business, and partly amusement. Then when I am tired, and have done all that I think necessary, I may amuse myself with reading, or in any other proper way. Now a great many of these employments do not belong to Lady Wealthy, or Mrs. Rich, who keep housekeepers and governesses, and servants of all kinds, to do everything for them. It is very proper, therefore, for them to pay more attention to music, drawing, ornamental work, and any other elegant manner of passing their time and making themselves agreeable.

_K._ And shall I have all the same things to do, mamma, that you have?

_M._ It is impossible, my dear, to foresee what your future station will be; but you have no reason to expect that if you have a family you will have fewer duties to perform than I have. This is the way of life for which your education should prepare you; and everything will be useful and important for you to learn, in proportion as it will make you fit for this.

_K._ But when I am grown a young lady, shall I not have to visit, and go to assemblies and plays, as Miss Wilsons and Miss Johnsons do?

_M._ It is very likely you may enter into some amusement of this sort: but even then you will have several more serious employments, which will take up a much greater part of your time; and if you do not do them properly, you will have no right to partake of the others.

_K._ What will they be, mamma?

_M._ Why, don’t you think it proper that you should assist me in my household affairs a little, as soon as you are able?

_K._ O yes, mamma, I should be very glad to do that.

_M._ Well, consider what talents will be necessary for that purpose; will not a good hand at your needle be one of the very first qualities?

_K._ I believe it will.

_M._ Yes, and not only in assisting _me_, but in making things for _yourself_. You know how we admired Miss Smart’s ingenuity when she was with us, in contriving and making so many articles of her dress, for which she must otherwise have gone to the milliner’s, which would have cost a great deal of money.

_K._ Yes; she made my pretty bonnet, and she made you a very handsome cap.

_M._ Very true; she was so clever as not only to furnish herself with these things, but to oblige her friends with some of her work. And I dare say she does a great deal of plain work also for herself and her mother. Well, then, you are convinced of the importance of this business, I hope.

_K._ Yes, mamma.

_M._ Reading and writing are such necessary parts of education, that I need not say much to you about them.

_K._ O no, for I love reading dearly.

_M._ I know you do, if you can get entertaining stories to read, but there are many things also to be read for instruction, which perhaps may not be so pleasant at first.

_K._ But what need is there of so many books of this sort?

_M._ Some are to teach you your duty to your Maker, and your fellow-creatures, of which I hope you are sensible you ought not to be ignorant. Then it is very right to be acquainted with geography; for you remember how poor Miss Blunder was laughed at for saying that if ever she went to France, it should be by land.

_K._ That was because England is an island, and all surrounded with water, was it not?

_M._ Yes, Great Britain, which contains both England and Scotland, is an island. Well, it is very useful to knew something of the nature of plants, and animals, and minerals, because we are always using some or other of them. Something, too, of the heavenly bodies is very proper to be known, both that we may admire the power and wisdom of God in creating them, and that we may not make foolish mistakes, when their natures and properties are the subject of conversation. The knowledge of history too, is very important, especially that of our own country; and in short, everything that makes part of the discourse of rational and well-educated people, ought in some degree to be studied by every one who has proper opportunities.

_K._ Yes, I like some of those things very well. But pray, mamma, what do I learn French for—am I ever to live in France?

_M._ Probably not, my dear; but there are a great many books written in French that are very well worth reading; and it may every now and then happen that you may be in company with foreigners who cannot speak English, and as they almost all talk French, you may be able to converse with them in that language.

_K._ Yes, I remember there was a gentleman here that came from Germany, I think, and he could hardly speak a word of English, but papa and you could talk to him in French; and I wished very much to be able to understand what you were saying, for I believe part of it was about me.

_M._ It was. Well, then, you see the use of French. But I cannot say this is a _necessary_ part of knowledge to young women in general, only it is well worth acquiring, if a person has leisure and opportunity. I will tell you, however, what is quite necessary for one in your station, and that is, to write a good hand, and to cast accounts well.

_K._ I should like to write well, because then I should send letters to my friends when I pleased, and it would not be such a scrawl as our maid Betty writes, that I dare say her friends can hardly make it out.

_M._ She had not the advantage of learning when young, for you know she taught herself since she came to us, which was a very sensible thing of her, and I suppose she will improve. Well, but accounts are almost as necessary as writing; for how could I cast up all the market-bills and tradesman’s accounts, and keep my housebooks, without it?

_K._ And what is the use of that, mamma?

_M._ It is of use to prevent our being overcharged in anything, and to know exactly how much we spend, and whether or not we are exceeding our income, and in what articles we ought to be more saving. Without keeping accounts the richest man might soon come to be ruined, before he knew that his affairs were going wrong.

_K._ But do women always keep accounts? I thought that was generally the business of the men.

_M._ It is their business to keep the accounts belonging to their trade, or profession, or estate; but it is the business of their wives to keep all the household accounts; and a woman almost in any rank, unless, perhaps, some of the highest of all, is to blame if she does not take upon her this necessary office. I remember a remarkable instance of the benefit which a young lady derived from an attention to this point. An eminent merchant in London failed for a great sum!

_K._ What does that mean, mamma?

_M._ That he owed a great deal more than he could pay. His creditors, that is, those to whom he was indebted, on examining his accounts, found great deficiencies which they could not make out; for he had kept his books very irregularly, and had omitted to put down many things that he had bought and sold. They suspected, therefore, that great waste had been made in the family expenses; and they were the more suspicious of this, as a daughter, who was a very genteel young lady, was his housekeeper, his wife being dead. She was told of this; upon which, when the creditors were all met, she sent them her housebooks for their examination. They were all written in a very fair hand, and every single article was entered with the greatest regularity, and the sums were all cast up with perfect exactness. The gentlemen were so highly pleased with the proof of the young lady’s ability, that they all agreed to make her a handsome present out of the effects; and one of the richest of them, who was in want of a clever wife, soon after paid his addresses to her, and married her.

_K._ That was very lucky, for I suppose she took care of her poor father when she was rich. But I shall have nothing of that sort to do a great while.

_M._ No; but young women should keep their own account of clothes and pocket-money, and other expenses, as I intend you shall do when you grow up.

_K._ Am I not to learn dancing, and music, and drawing, too, mamma?

_M._ Dancing you shall certainly learn pretty soon, because it is not only an agreeable accomplishment in itself, but is useful in forming the body to ease and elegance in all its motions. As to the other two, they are merely ornamental accomplishments, which, though a woman of middling station may be admired for possessing, yet she will never be censured for being without. The propriety of attempting to acquire them must depend on natural genius for them, and upon leisure and other accidental circumstances. For some they are too expensive, and many are unable to make such progress in them as will repay the pains of beginning. It is soon enough, however, for us to think about these things, and at any rate they are not to come in till you have made a very good proficiency in what is useful and necessary. But I see you have now finished what I set you about, so you shall take a walk with me into the marketplace, where I have two or three things to buy.

_K._ Shall we not call at the bookseller’s, to inquire for those new books that Miss Reader was talking about?

_M._ Perhaps we may. Now lay up your work neatly, and get on your hat and tippet.

[Illustration:

Alfred the Great, _p. 80_

EVENING VI. ]

ON THE OAK.—A DIALOGUE.

_Tutor_—_George_—_Harry_.

_Tutor._—Come, my boys, let us sit down awhile under yon shady tree. I don’t know how your young legs feel, but mine are almost tired.

_Geo._ I am not tired, but I am very hot.

_Har._ And I am hot and very dry, too.

_Tut._ When you have cooled yourself, you may drink out of that clear brook. In the meantime, we will read a little out of a book I have in my pocket. [_They go and sit down at the foot of the tree._]

_Har._ What an amazing large tree! How wide its branches spread! Pray what tree is it?

_Geo._ I can tell you that. It is an oak. Don’t you see the acorns?

_Tut._ Yes, it is an oak—the noblest tree this country produces; not only grand and beautiful to the sight, but of the greatest importance from its uses.

_Har._ I should like to know something about it?

_Tut._ Very well; then instead of reading we will sit and talk about oaks. George, who knew the oak by its acorns—should you have known it if there had been none?

_Geo._ I don’t know; I believe not.

_Tut._ Observe, then, in the first place, that its bark is very rugged. Then see in what manner it grows: its great arms run out almost horizontally from its trunk, giving the whole tree a sort of round form, and making it spread far on every side. Its branches are also subject to be crooked or kneed. By these marks you might guess at an oak even in winter, when quite bare of leaves. But its leaves afford a surer mark of distinction, since they differ a good deal from those of other English trees, being neither whole and even at the edges, nor yet cut like the teeth of a saw, but rather deeply scolloped, and formed into several rounded divisions. Their colour is a fine deep green. Then the fruit—

_Har._ Fruit!

_Tut._ Yes; all kinds of plants have what may properly be called fruit, though we are apt to give that name only to such as are food for man. The fruit of a plant is the seed, with what contains it. This, in the oak, is called an acorn, which is a kind of nut, partly enclosed in a cup.

_Geo._ Acorn-cups are very pretty things. I have made boats of them, and set them swimming in a basin.

_Tut._ And if you were no bigger than a fairy, you might use them for drinking cups, as those imaginary little beings are said to do.

Pearly drops of dew we drink, In acorn-cups filled to the brink.

_Har._ Are acorns good to eat?

_Geo._ No; that they are not. I have tried, and did not like them at all.

_Tut._ In the early ages of man, before he cultivated the earth, but lived upon such wild products as Nature afforded, we are told that acorns made a considerable part of his food; and at this day they are eaten in Spain and Greece, and in some other of the southern countries of Europe. But they are sweeter and better flavoured than ours, and are produced by a different species of oak. The chief use which we make of those which grow in this country is to feed hogs. In those parts of England where oak-woods are common, great herds of swine are kept, which are driven into the woods in autumn, when the acorns fall, and provide for themselves plentifully for two or three months. This, however, is a small part of the praise of the oak. You will be surprised when I tell you that to this tree our country owes its chief glory and security.

_Har._ Ay! how can that be?

_Tut._ I don’t know whether in your reading you have ever met with the story, that Athens, a famous city in Greece, consulting the oracle how it might best defend itself against its enemies, was advised to trust to wooden walls.

_Har._ Wooden walls? that’s odd. I should think stone-walls better; for wooden ones might be set on fire.

_Tut._ True: but the meaning was, that as Athens was a place of great trade, and its people were skilled in maritime affairs, they ought to trust to their ships. Well, this is the case with Great Britain. As it is an island, it has no need of walls and fortifications, while it possesses ships to keep all enemies at a distance. Now, we have the greatest and finest navy in the world, by which we both defend ourselves, and attack other nations, when they insult us; and this is all built of oak.

_Geo._ Would no other wood do to build ships?

_Tut._ None nearly so well, especially for men-of-war; for it is the stoutest and strongest wood we have; and, therefore, best fitted, both to keep sound under water, and to bear the blows and shocks of the waves, and the terrible strokes of cannon-balls. It is a peculiar excellence for this last purpose, that oak is not so liable to splinter or shiver as other woods, so that a ball can pass through it without making a large hole. Did you never hear the old song,

Hearts of oak are our ships, hearts of oak are our men, &c.?

_Geo._ No.

_Tut._ It was made at a time when England was more successful in war than had ever before been known, and our success was properly attributed chiefly to our fleet, the great support of which is the British oak so I hope you will look upon oaks with due respect.

_Har._ Yes; it shall always be my favourite tree.

_Tut._ Had not Pope reason, when he said, in his _Windsor Forest_,

“Let India boast her plants, nor envy we The weeping amber, or the balmy tree, While by our oaks the precious loads are borne, And realms commanded which those trees adorn!”

These lines refer to its use as well for merchant-ships as for men-of-war; and, in fact, all our ships are for the most part built either of native or foreign oak.

_Geo._ Are the masts of ships made of oak?

_Tut._ No; it would be too heavy. Besides, it would not be easy to find trunks of oak long and straight enough for that purpose. They are made of various sorts of fir or pine, which grow very tall and taper.

_Geo._ Is oak wood used for anything besides ship-building?

_Tut._ O yes; it is one of the principal woods of the carpenter, being employed wherever great strength and durability are required. It is used for door and window frames, and the beams that are laid in walls to strengthen them. Floors and staircases are sometimes made with it; and in old houses in the country, which were built when oak was more plentiful than at present, almost all the timber about them was oak. It is also occasionally used for furniture, as tables, chairs, drawers, and bedsteads; though mahogany has now much taken its place for the better sort of goods, and the lighter and softer woods for the cheaper; for the hardness of oak renders it difficult and expensive to work. It is still, however, the chief material used in mill-work, in bridge and water works, for wagon and cart bodies, for threshing-floors, for large casks and tubs, and for the last piece of furniture a man has occasion for. What is that, do you think, George?

_Geo._ I don’t know.

_Har._ A coffin.

_Tut._ So it is.

_Har._ But why should that be made of such strong wood?

_Tut._ There can be no other reason than that weak attachment we are apt to have for our bodies when we are done with them, which has made men in various countries desirous of keeping them as long as possible from decay. But I have not yet done with the uses of the oak. Were either of you ever in a tanner’s yard?

_Geo._ We often go by one at the end of the town; but we dare not go in for fear of the great dog.

_Tut._ But he is always chained in the daytime.