"_You shall never drive me again_."

"_You shall never drive me again_."

The dean at last called to him. "What do you mean by thus repeating my words?"

"I am trying to find out what _you_ meant," said Henry.

"What don't you know?" cried his enlightened cousin. "Richard is turned away; he is never to get upon our coach-box again, never to drive any of us more."

"And was it pleasure to drive us, cousin? I am sure I have often pitied him. It rained sometimes very hard when he was on the box; and sometimes Lady Clementina has kept him a whole hour at the door all in the cold and snow. Was that pleasure?"

"No," replied young William.

"Was it honour, cousin?"

"No," exclaimed his cousin with a contemptuous smile.

"Then why did my uncle say to him, as a punishment, 'he should never'"--

"Come hither, child," said the dean, "and let me instruct you; your father's negligence has been inexcusable. There are in society,"

continued the dean, "rich and poor; the poor are born to serve the rich."

"And what are the rich born for?"

"To be served by the poor."

"But suppose the poor would not serve them?"

"Then they must starve."

"And so poor people are permitted to live only upon condition that they wait upon the rich?"

"Is that a hard condition; or if it were, they will be rewarded in a better world than this?"

"Is there a better world than this?"

"Is it possible you do not know there is?"

"I heard my father once say something about a world to come; but he stopped short, and said I was too young to understand what he meant."

"The world to come," returned the dean, "is where we shall go after death; and there no distinction will be made between rich and poor--all persons there will be equal."

"Aye, now I see what makes it a better world than this. But cannot this world try to be as good as that?"

"In respect to placing all persons on a level, it is utterly impossible.

G.o.d has ordained it otherwise."

"How! has G.o.d ordained a distinction to be made, and will not make any Himself?"

The dean did not proceed in his instructions. He now began to think his brother in the right, and that the boy was too young, or too weak, to comprehend the subject.

CHAPTER XIV.

In addition to his ignorant conversation upon many topics, young Henry had an incorrigible misconception and misapplication of many _words_. His father having had but few opportunities of discoursing with him, upon account of his attendance at the court of the savages, and not having books in the island, he had consequently many words to learn of this country's language when he arrived in England. This task his retentive memory made easy to him; but his childish inattention to their proper signification still made his want of education conspicuous.

He would call _compliments_, _lies_; _reserve_, he would call _pride_; _stateliness_, _affectation_; and for the words _war_ and _battle_, he constantly subst.i.tuted the word _ma.s.sacre_.

"Sir," said William to his father one morning, as he entered the room, "do you hear how the cannons are firing, and the bells ringing?"

"Then I dare say," cried Henry, "there has been another ma.s.sacre."

The dean called to him in anger, "Will you never learn the right use of words? You mean to say a battle."

"Then what is a ma.s.sacre?" cried the frightened, but still curious Henry.

"A ma.s.sacre," replied his uncle, "is when a number of people are slain--"

"I thought," returned Henry, "soldiers had been people!"

"You interrupted me," said the dean, "before I finished my sentence.

Certainly, both soldiers and sailors are people, but they engage to die by their own free will and consent."

"What! all of them?"

"Most of them."

"But the rest are ma.s.sacred?"

The dean answered, "The number who go to battle unwillingly, and by force, are few; and for the others, they have previously sold their lives to the state."

"For what?"

"For soldiers' and sailors' pay."

"My father used to tell me, we must not take away our own lives; but he forgot to tell me we might sell them for others to take away."

"William," said the dean to his son, his patience tired with his nephew's persevering nonsense, "explain to your cousin the difference between a battle and a ma.s.sacre."

"A ma.s.sacre," said William, rising from his seat, and fixing his eyes alternately upon his father, his mother, and the bishop (all of whom were present) for their approbation, rather than the person's to whom his instructions were to be addressed--"a ma.s.sacre," said William, "is when human beings are slain, who have it not in their power to defend themselves."

"Dear cousin William," said Henry, "that must ever be the case with every one who is killed."

After a short hesitation, William replied: "In ma.s.sacres people are put to death for no crime, but merely because they are objects of suspicion."

"But in battle," said Henry, "the persons put to death are not even suspected."