I will not stay to describe their arrival at Alston Moor, nor the joyful meeting between Arthur and his aunt and cousin. Many years have rolled on since Arthur went through his service as midshipman, and passed as lieutenant with the greatest credit: he is now a gallant and distinguished officer,—the pride of his father, the delight of his old friend Travers, an honour to his country, and the husband of his pretty cousin Phœbe.
The picture I have drawn is not exaggerated. Arthur is no creature of my imagination; it was drawn from life, and may be realized by any youth who takes for his rule of life the maxim of our Church: "Do thy duty in that state of life unto which it shall please God to call thee."
This tale is founded on facts: and the recapture of the ship, extraordinary as it may seem, is a simple relation of occurrences that really happened, in the beginning of the American war, when the Lark merchant-ship was taken by a French privateer, and retaken by her captain, having no English on board, but a boy, and an English merchant, one of the Society of Friends. This gentleman refused to stain his hands with blood: but assisted in this peaceable recapture with great firmness and resolution. The underwriters presented the captain with £100, as a small reward for his intrepidity.
THE FISHERMAN'S COTTAGE.
Nearly a century and a half ago, there lived, in a little cottage on the eastern coast, an aged widow and her two grandsons. Although neither carpenter nor bricklayer was employed in the construction of this cottage, it was as neat a fisherman's cabin as any in that part of England. James Mayhew, the widow's son, had ingeniously built it on the sea-beach, under the cliffs. It was formed of pebbles and sea-stones; and he had, with great toil and labour, carried down earth from the cliffs, and made a nice little kitchen-garden, which formed a pleasing contrast with the barren sands that surrounded the cottage; and this, with a shed for a cow, (which got her living on the common belonging to the adjacent town,) made a very comfortable little dwelling place. It was poor James's summer work; and at Michaelmas he brought to live in it his widowed mother, old Amy Mayhew, and his wife, who had formerly been a tidy dairy-maid, and to whom he had been married just a twelvemonth. Now James was very clever and industrious; he could turn his hand to any sort of work; he would labour for the farmers at harvest and seed-time, and pursued the trade of a fisherman the rest of the year. He made one harvest on the land, and two more from the sea; for he used to go out in a boat and catch herrings and mackerel at those seasons when they abound so plentifully on our coasts. James was an excellent son and husband, and would, no doubt, have been as good a father. His wife had just presented him with two twin little boys, when James was forced to leave her, to go to sea for the herring-fishery; and, sad it is to tell what followed! though such events are too common on these coasts. From the cottage window, his boat was seen to founder; and the wife never beheld her husband, nor the mother her son, until the tide threw up his corpse within a few yards of his own door. His poor wife, in her weak state, was unable to bear so severe a shock, and sank into a state of stupefaction, which was soon succeeded by death. The neighbouring townsmen contributed a sum to bury the poor young people: and many, who were standing by at the funeral, and saw the sorrow of the aged Amy, and thought of the hard trial which had befallen her, said it would have been a mercy if the orphan little twins had been buried in the same grave with their unfortunate parents! But Amy did not think so. "God bless the poor babes!" she said; "they are all that is left me of my good dutiful James: I will do my best to bring them up; and, if my life be spared so long, I may see them prove a blessing and a comfort to me; and, perhaps, they may lay my head in the same grave with my poor son!"
Amy did, indeed, strive to do her best to rear her poor little grandsons. She was often seen with a baby on each arm coming into the town to fetch the cow off the common; and then the good-hearted sailors, who had known her son, would give her a white loaf for the babes, or a piece of meat or cheese for herself. With these helps, and with the milk from the cow and the vegetables from the garden, she contrived to get through that trying year. "Before the winter comes again," she said to a friendly old pilot who had called to see her, "my little boys will run alone; and when these aged arms are relieved from their heavy burden, I shall be able to work hard for their living."
Amy was firm in her resolution: and, by her good nursing, the little orphans throve and grew nicely,—so that by the end of the next summer they could run about, holding by each other, to assist their steps. They were very good and quiet, and fond of each other, and gave much less trouble than could have been expected.
Amy was now able to earn a little money by netting; and by the time the children were three years old, James and Michael learned to fill her netting needles with the twine she made the herring-nets of; and the little creatures would stand by her the whole day, each watching until his turn came to fill granny's needle. When they grew a little older, they used to pick up stones on the beach, which were wanted in the town for building. They carried them up the cliffs by little baskets-full at a time, and laid them in a heap, and then the bricklayers gave for them a halfpenny a bushel. And when the cold snowy winter nights came, they learned to net, and helped their grandmother a great deal. By the time they were twelve years old, the boys nearly earned their living. James got something every week, by fetching his neighbours' cows off the common: he was always up by five in the summer, and before light in the winter, that he might not be too late. He soon got work at the Hall farm, in the next parish; and though it was a long way to walk, night and morning, he was always there in time, and contrived to do some work for his grandmother in the hours he had for his meals. James took delight in the quiet employments of the country; he greatly preferred the husbandman's life to the unsettled condition of the fisherman or sailor. Michael, on the contrary, loved the sea, and always tried, in getting his daily bread, to remain, if possible, by the beach, as it was his most ardent desire to be a sailor. It may be supposed this wish gave pain to his poor grandmother, who never heard him express it without thinking of the death of his father. To divert him from his inclination, she did her best to teach him to read; but, though both he and his brother were very apt, and could soon read a chapter in the Bible, yet, even in that holy book, Michael contrived to find something to flatter his passion for ships and sailors. By the time the boys had attained the age of fourteen, James had learned so much of the duties of husbandry, that his employer, as a reward for his diligence and industry, promised to hire him for the following year at man's wages. Poor Michael was much hurt that his brother would now be able to maintain his grandmother, and give her those comforts that her age required, whilst he could merely fish on the beach with lines for whiting or cod, or pick up stones for the bricklayers; and that he could do when he was but seven years old. He was so ashamed of his inferiority, that he made a resolution of going to labourer's work with his brother, and was determined to give up his favourite wish, to please his good grandmother; but an accident which happened that winter altered his intention.