PROSPERITY TO BROOKE!
Education came in the train of other good things to bless the people of
Brooke. There was much opposition at first from many who, having got
through life so far without having learned to read, could not see why
their children should not do the same. Regard to the persons concerned,
however, carried the point where the principle was disputed; and when it
was found that, in addition to the school being proposed by my mother
and sanctioned by the clergyman, it was intended that it should be kept
by Joe Harper and his wife, the opposition was in a great measure
quieted. In a few months, it was hushed entirely; for the children, from
seeming a set of little savages, began to look like civilized beings.
They were no longer dirty, noisy, quarrelsome, and generally either
crying or laughing. They could sit still without being sulky, and move
about without being riotous; they could answer a question freely and
respectfully at the same time: they could be industrious and cheerful at
once. They could be trusted among the flowers in Joe’s garden, and
learned to do no harm if admitted into the house.
Everybody was surprised that Joe should expect to raise flowers in his
little court by the school-house, when so many rough children were to be
at play so near: but Joe said in their hearing that he thought, when
they knew how he prized his roses and pinks, they would take care not to
spoil his garden. And so it proves. If the children lose a ball there,
they ask for it instead of climbing the paling; and no one is ever known
to pluck a flower, though a good boy or girl often wears a rose given by
the master or mistress as a reward.
Joe’s house is the admiration of all who know what comfort is. The
parlour has a boarded floor, which is sanded according to the old
fashion. A handsome clock ticks behind the door. The best tea-tray and
caddy stand on the mahogany table opposite the fire-place, and a
footstool which Maria worked when a young girl, is placed under it. Joe
has some books, as becomes a schoolmaster; and they are of a kind so
much above what any scholar of his own rank in the village has ever
seen, that it has long been hinted that Joe is a very learned man. There
is a Latin grammar and dictionary, and a book all in Latin besides; or,
if not Latin, nobody knows what it is. There are two books about the
stars; and a volume full of figures in columns, with a name so odd that
nobody catches it easily. There are besides several volumes of voyages
and travels, and with them a set which, from its title, was supposed to
belong to the same class. It is called the Rambler; but a neighbour, who
took it down from the shelf one day, says there is nothing in it about
foreign countries. There are works of a serious cast, as all would
expect who are acquainted with Joe; and to these Maria has added a few
religious books which were left her by her mother.—The greatest
ornaments of this parlour, however, are some pictures of cities and
other places abroad, which Joe brought home with him. The city of
Florence is perhaps the most beautiful; but the most remarkable is a
view of the bay of Naples, and mount Vesuvius in the distance. Maria is
very proud of this last, as her husband saw with his own eyes the flames
shooting up out of the burning mountain.
I never enjoyed a visit to the school-house more than yesterday, when I
went to beg a holiday for the children on account of Mr. Malton’s
harvest-home. It was a pleasure to see the troop of boys and girls
pouring out of the play-ground, and laughing and talking as they
hastened to the harvest-field, while Maria and I followed to share the
gaiety. Joe so seldom has leisure for books, that he remained behind,
sure, on such a day, of having his hours and his wits to himself. What a
busy scene when we arrived! The reapers stooping to their cheerful
toil,—the elderly folks full of the pleasant recollections of many
harvests; the lads full of gallantry, and the lasses of mirth! How
complacently Mr. Malton surveyed the field, now following the reapers to
build up the shocks, now crumbling a fruitful ear of wheat in his hands,
now flinging a handful from a rich sheaf to some decrepit gleaner, or to
some toddling little one who must have a share in the business of the
day! What an apron-full Gray’s children had gathered presently, and how
kindly their father nodded to them when he stuck his sickle into the
sheaf for a moment to wipe his brows! How witty Carey was cracking his
jokes within earshot of the Maltons and ourselves, observing that he was
not in his right place in a field of wheat,—that as a barber ought to be
where there are most beards, he thought he should adjourn to the oat or
barley field! How Miss Black evidently admired, as I passed her door,
the bunch of wheat-ears the children had stuck into my bonnet while I
left it hanging on the hedge, and sat down in the shade! My mother is
certain, from Miss Black’s satisfactory nod,—as much as to say, “I have
it,”—that artificial wheat-ears will wave in all bonnets next winter.
How goodly looked the last waggon, laden with golden grain, as it turned
out of the field at sunset, leaving a few ears dangling from the sprays
for gleaners as it creaked along the lane! Merry were the sounds from
the train that followed. The songs which should have been kept for the
harvest-supper began to burst forth already, the deep bass of a manly
voice making itself heard above the shrill laughter of the children.
This was truly the music of glad hearts.
We saw the long tables set out for the harvest-feast, and went through
our annual speculations about how so much good cheer was to be consumed.
As we were returning, my mother observed that it would be a fine
moonlight night; and that she hoped the sergeant would come and report
proceedings to us, as he would have such a lamp to light him home,
however late he might be. He left the table with the first sober folks
who rose to depart, and looked in on us as he passed.
“Well, sergeant!” said my father, when he entered; “have you had a merry
harvest feast?”
“Very much so, sir; but I am so hoarse with singing and talking, that I
am afraid I can hardly tell you much about it.”
“We will have a glass of ale,” said my father, ringing the bell; “and
then you shall tell me as much as you like, and leave the rest for Carey
in the morning. We must drink prosperity to Brooke, and many a merry
harvest home.”
“There _is_ prosperity in Brooke,” said the sergeant, as he set down his
glass. “If any of my neighbours pretend to doubt it, and point out one
or two who take parish relief, or two or three who seem to be going down
in the world, I shew them the cottages on the common, well thatched and
clean white-washed, with their gardens behind them. I count numbers, and
prove that our population has increased one-half. I shew them the
school-house and the shops, so much busier than they used to be; and the
new carrier’s cart to M——, and all the improvements in the place.”
“I am heartily glad to see, sergeant, that you relish these changes; for
men at your time of life do not generally like them.”
“It all depends, sir, on what the changes are. I am thankful that I have
lived to see so many poor neighbours gathering their comforts about
them; and I shall be all the more ready to go to my grave if I see a
fine, thriving race of young folks rising up to do more good in the
world than I have done. And if they think of me sometimes, I hope they
will remember,” he continued, addressing my brothers, “that their old
friend looked to them to fulfil his hearty wish of Prosperity to
Brooke.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------
_Summary of Principles illustrated in this Volume._
We have not advanced to any new principles of the science of Political
Economy in the present volume. We have only exemplified some of the
principles laid down in our last volume by illustrations of certain
truths respecting a few particular modes of accumulating and applying
Capital. These truths may be arranged as follows:
PRODUCTION being the great end in the employment of Labour and Capital,
that application of both which secures the largest production is the
best.
Large capitals well managed, produce in a larger proportion than small.
In its application to land, for instance, a large capital employs new
powers of production,—as in the cultivation of wastes;
.... enables its owner to wait for ample but distant returns,—as in
planting;
.... facilitates the division of labour;
.... .... the succession of crops, or division of time;
.... .... reproduction, by economizing the investment of fixed capital;
.... .... the economy of convertible husbandry;
.... .... the improvement of soils by manuring, irrigation, &c.;
.... .... the improvement of implements of husbandry;
.... .... the improvement of breeds of live stock.
Large capitals also provide for the prevention of famine, by
furnishing a variety of food; and for the regular supply of the
market, by enabling capitalists to wait for their returns.
Large capitals are therefore preferable to an equal aggregate amount of
small capitals, for two reasons, viz.
they occasion a large production in proportion; and they promote, by
means peculiar to themselves, the general safety and convenience.
Capitals may, however, be too large. They are so when they become
disproportioned to the managing power.
The interest of capitalists best determines the extent of capital; and
any interference of the law is therefore unnecessary.
The interference of the law is injurious; as may be seen by the tendency
of the law of Succession in France to divide properties too far, and of
the law of Primogeniture in England to consolidate them too extensively.
The increase of agricultural capital provides a fund for the employment
of manufacturing and commercial, as well as agricultural, labour.
The interests of the manufacturing and agricultural classes are
therefore not opposed to each other, but closely allied.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Transcriber’s Note
There are many instances of absent punctuation. Where there is obviously
room for the missing character in the printed text, we assume that it
was present when printed, and have restored it; likewise, at paragraphs’
end.
Life in the Wild: Africa. (3.6), two hills. (6.27), Mr. (27.33),
complain. (32.6), hands. (42.6), signify. (44.31), Mr. Stone (50.8),
her. Mr. Stone (85.17), end. (87.33, step. (107.20), captain.
107.22), them. (119.5)
The Hill and the Valley: Hollins. (21.34), entering. (46.17), Journal.
(45.22), Mr. Bernard (65.12), friend. (72.29), Mr. Wallace (72.32),
countenance. (74.19), pig-iron. (80.30), other. (127.25), day.
(81.24), way. (131.30),
Brooke and Brooke Farm: him. (40.20), are. (136.30), poor. (45.33)
Other errors deemed most likely to be the printer’s have been corrected,
and are noted here. The references are to the page and line in the
original. Given the independent pagination of the original, these are
divided by volume.
Life in the Wilds
19.28 we shall not see them to-night.[”] Added.
22.30 Here, at least, money is not wealth.[”] Added.
37.12 and assist, wher[e]ever he could. Removed.
45.28 [‘/“]I wonder at the captain,” Replaced.
48.18 sir,[”] said Hill, Added.
49.30 seems to have agreed,[’/”] Replaced.
62.7 “Which is the highest, George[,]” Added.
67.25 [‘/“]There would be little use Replaced.
102.9 [‘/“]You shall see presently,” Replaced.
107.3 There wa[s] little fear Restored.
The Hill and the Valley
23.9 “In which department.[”?/?”] Transposed.
23.30 I said I was hungry.[’/”] Replaced.
35.31 [“]I must find time Added.
37.33 and envious.[”] Removed.
48.20 By dinner-time sh[e] was ready Restored.
58.29 “We find so much depend[s] on Added.
70.6 suppose the lady like[d] to be treated Added.
79.4 [‘/“]Surely,” said Mrs. Wallace, Replaced.
107.14 nobody wi[i/l]l be looking Replaced.
112.23 so much for to-morrow[’/”] Rplaced.
116.27 Before the visit[e/o]r had time Replaced.
Brooke and Brooke Farm
7.26 useful by cu[tl/lt]ivation Transposed.
8.18 [‘/“]As for you Replaced.
11.32 our part to awaken you, sir[./,] Replaced.
14.9 of the objective school, sir.[”] Added.
17.31 [W/B]illy got up whimpering Replaced.
17.33 [“]Well, Billy,” Added.
18.33 “Will you let me try?[”] Added.
35.2 sell your allotment to him?[”] Added.
45.11 it was his daughter-in[ /-]law Inserted.
51.32 for hundred[s] of years Added.
54.23 in your native village?[’/”] Replaced.
56.6 no little disapp[o]intment to me Inserted.
78.12 And w[h]ere were you much afraid Removed.
79.12 fit for a soldier.[’’’/”] Replaced.
96.3 said Mr. Malto[n] Restored.
98.10 [‘/“]More in one year Replaced.
119.17 the violence of their emotion[,/.] Replaced.