Sweden does better by her sons. She teaches them every one, and, as a Swede told me, “Sweden is not rich enough to keep ignorant children until they are criminal men.” Therefore she gives every one the priceless boon of education as a national gift, so that every Swede owes at least one debt to his country, and there are no Fenians there.
In England no one is allowed to appear in public without some clothes. The time will come when we shall not dare to let a man loose on the thoroughfares in native ignorance—decency forbids.
We have opened our ship-decks to foreign sailors—more proud in our boast of being an asylum for the distressed than in preventing distress among our own people. By all means give foreigners fair play, but after England’s boys are cared for. Charity begins at home, our home is England. English boys are far better sailors than any foreigners, who no doubt excel us in cookery and silks, and manners and despotism, but not in the hard duty bravely done, when storms lash clouds and ocean into one general foam.
To train up English sailor boys philanthropy stepped in just in time, and in the last few years it has provided more and more ships. The very boys who are worst off, and most tried by dire want and misfortune, are those who may be boldest to run aloft when well taught; and if these British hearts are won young, and tutored right, and trained loyal, and warmly clothed in true blue jackets, we shall not have so many shipwrecks where cheap foreigners skulk as the tempest roars. [296]
One day we had a grand treat for the ‘Chichester’ boys, who marched to a sunny mead at Greenhithe, and romped for hours and hours in hearty sailors’ play. How they ran races, jumped in sacks, swarmed up the polished pole, and eyed the leg of mutton at the top, far out of reach, until sheer exhaustion with boyish laughter made them slide down! Then, gathered round cake and tea, and duly stuffed therewith to concert pitch, they sing our grand old Psalms, our free and joyous loyal ship-songs, the orchestra of young throats being directed with all gravity by an urchin—one of themselves—a miniature “Costa” full of pound-cake, and with his Jersey pockets bulged out too, but tuneful enough after his tea. The man’s heart that is not softened, gladdened, and strung to effort for these little fellows by scenes like this I do not covet.
The captain of the ‘Chichester’ says:—
“I receive very pleasing letters from boys who have left. I send you a copy of the last, just arrived, which I think is as powerful an appeal in our behalf as any that could be penned.”
“Ship ‘---,’ off the Isle of Wight.
“Please Sir,—I take the pleasure of writing these few lines to you, hoping to find you in good health, as we are. We are getting on very well, we are now off the Isle of Wight. Sir, we like our ship very well, and I hope we shall have a good character when we come home. I hope all the Instructors are well.
“Give my respects to Lady Alston, and tell her where we are. We are having very good weather, and I haven’t forgot my Bible. C. D. sends his respects to you. Please sir, will you give my love to Frances. Sir, you must excuse me for not writing more. I haven’t had time. Sir, if I don’t see you any more in this world, I hope I shall Above. Give my respects to Mr. and Mrs. Macarthy.
“No more at present from your obedient servants,
“A. B. and C. D.
“God be merciful to us as sinners.”
And while we speak more of the three ships already named, because they are nearest, and so are most seen by us Londoners, remember there are other stout Britons at Hull, sturdy boys in the Mersey, sea-urchins in the Clyde, and good sailor-hearts in Ireland and in Welshmen’s breasts, and there are training ships for boys in all these and other places, [297] so that all may join who wish to help in England’s future, which will much depend on the next generation of British seamen.
It will be a happy sight, and one by no means out of our reach to witness, when the gentlemen taught on the ‘Worcester,’ and the mates from the ‘Chichester,’ and the crew from the ‘Cornwall,’ shall man the largest, fastest vessel on the sea.
The ‘Chichester’ boys make a very appreciative audience when a visitor addresses them. Then they sing their hearty thanks with steady voices, and in stanzas of original poetry spun aboard ship, and sure to mean much if you can read between the lines; for London boys are both in good things and in bad the smartest of all.