the way of all flesh-第30部分

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naughty　things；　but　he　was　always　doing　them。　　He　had　heard　that
some　grown…up　people　were　worldly；　which　of　course　was　wrong；　still
this　was　quite　distinct　from　being　naughty；　and　did　not　get　them
punished　or　scolded。　　His　own　Papa　and　Mamma　were　not　even　worldly；
they　had　often　explained　to　him　that　they　were　exceptionally
unworldly；　he　well　knew　that　they　had　never　done　anything　naughty
since　they　had　been　children；　and　that　even　as　children　they　had
been　nearly　faultless。　　Oh！　how　different　from　himself！　　When　should
he　learn　to　love　his　Papa　and　Mamma　as　they　had　loved　theirs？　　How
could　he　hope　ever　to　grow　up　to　be　as　good　and　wise　as　they；　or
even　tolerably　good　and　wise？　　Alas！　never。　　It　could　not　be。　　He
did　not　love　his　Papa　and　Mamma；　in　spite　of　all　their　goodness　both
in　themselves　and　to　him。　　He　hated　Papa；　and　did　not　like　Mamma；
and　this　was　what　none　but　a　bad　and　ungrateful　boy　would　do　after
all　that　had　been　done　for　him。　　Besides　he　did　not　like　Sunday；　he
did　not　like　anything　that　was　really　good；　his　tastes　were　low　and
such　as　he　was　ashamed　of。　　He　liked　people　best　if　they　sometimes
swore　a　little；　so　long　as　it　was　not　at　him。　　As　for　his　Catechism
and　Bible　readings　he　had　no　heart　in　them。　　He　had　never　attended
to　a　sermon　in　his　life。　　Even　when　he　had　been　taken　to　hear　Mr
Vaughan　at　Brighton；　who；　as　everyone　knew；　preached　such　beautiful
sermons　for　children；　he　had　been　very　glad　when　it　was　all　over；
nor　did　he　believe　he　could　get　through　church　at　all　if　it　was　not
for　the　voluntary　upon　the　organ　and　the　hymns　and　chanting。　　The
Catechism　was　awful。　　He　had　never　been　able　to　understand　what　it
was　that　he　desired　of　his　Lord　God　and　Heavenly　Father；　nor　had　he
yet　got　hold　of　a　single　idea　in　connection　with　the　word　Sacrament。
His　duty　towards　his　neighbour　was　another　bugbear。　　It　seemed　to
him　that　he　had　duties　towards　everybody；　lying　in　wait　for　him　upon
every　side；　but　that　nobody　had　any　duties　towards　him。　　Then　there
was　that　awful　and　mysterious　word　'business。'　　What　did　it　all
mean？　　What　was　'business'？　　His　Papa　was　a　wonderfully　good　man　of
business；　his　Mamma　had　often　told　him　sobut　he　should　never　be
one。　　It　was　hopeless；　and　very　awful；　for　people　were　continually
telling　him　that　he　would　have　to　earn　his　own　living。　　No　doubt；
but　howconsidering　how　stupid；　idle；　ignorant；　self…indulgent；　and
physically　puny　he　was？　　All　grown…up　people　were　clever；　except
servantsand　even　these　were　cleverer　than　ever　he　should　be。　　Oh；
why；　why；　why；　could　not　people　be　born　into　the　world　as　grown…up
persons？　　Then　he　thought　of　Casabianca。　　He　had　been　examined　in
that　poem　by　his　father　not　long　before。　　'When　only　would　he　leave
his　position？　　To　whom　did　he　call？　　Did　he　get　an　answer？　　Why？
How　many　times　did　he　call　upon　his　father？　　What　happened　to　him？
What　was　the　noblest　life　that　perished　there？　　Do　you　think　so？
Why　do　you　think　so？'　　And　all　the　rest　of　it。　　Of　course　he　thought
Casabianca's　was　the　noblest　life　that　perished　there；　there　could
be　no　two　opinions　about　that；　it　never　occurred　to　him　that　the
moral　of　the　poem　was　that　young　people　cannot　begin　too　soon　to
exercise　discretion　in　the　obedience　they　pay　to　their　Papa　and
Mamma。　　Oh；　no！　the　only　thought　in　his　mind　was　that　he　should
never；　never　have　been　like　Casabianca；　and　that　Casabianca　would
have　despised　him　so　much；　if　he　could　have　known　him；　that　he　would
not　have　condescended　to　speak　to　him。　　There　was　nobody　else　in　the
ship　worth　reckoning　at　all：　　it　did　not　matter　how　much　they　were
blown　up。　　Mrs　Hemans　knew　them　all　and　they　were　a　very　indifferent
lot。　　Besides　Casabianca　was　so　good…looking　and　came　of　such　a　good
family。〃

And　thus　his　small　mind　kept　wandering　on　till　he　could　follow　it　no
longer；　and　again　went　off　into　a　doze。



CHAPTER　XXX



Next　morning　Theobald　and　Christina　arose　feeling　a　little　tired
from　their　journey；　but　happy　in　that　best　of　all　happiness；　the
approbation　of　their　consciences。　　It　would　be　their　boy's　fault
henceforth　if　he　were　not　good；　and　as　prosperous　as　it　was　at　all
desirable　that　he　should　be。　　What　more　could　parents　do　than　they
had　done？　　The　answer　〃Nothing〃　will　rise　as　readily　to　the　lips　of
the　reader　as　to　those　of　Theobald　and　Christina　themselves。

A　few　days　later　the　parents　were　gratified　at　receiving　the
following　letter　from　their　son　…


〃My　Dear　Mamma；I　am　very　well。　　Dr　Skinner　made　me　do　about　the
horse　free　and　exulting　roaming　in　the　wide　fields　in　Latin　verse；
but　as　I　had　done　it　with　Papa　I　knew　how　to　do　it；　and　it　was
nearly　all　right；　and　he　put　me　in　the　fourth　form　under　Mr　Templer；
and　I　have　to　begin　a　new　Latin　grammar　not　like　the　old；　but　much
harder。　　I　know　you　wish　me　to　work；　and　I　will　try　very　hard。　　With
best　love　to　Joey　and　Charlotte；　and　to　Papa；　I　remain；　your
affectionate　son；　　ERNEST。〃


Nothing　could　be　nicer　or　more　proper。　　It　really　did　seem　as　though
he　were　inclined　to　turn　over　a　new　leaf。　　The　boys　had　all　come
back；　the　examinations　were　over；　and　the　routine　of　the　half　year
began；　Ernest　found　that　his　fears　about　being　kicked　about　and
bullied　were　exaggerated。　　Nobody　did　anything　very　dreadful　to　him。
He　had　to　run　errands　between　certain　hours　for　the　elder　boys；　and
to　take　his　turn　at　greasing　the　footballs；　and　so　forth；　but　there
was　an　excellent　spirit　in　the　school　as　regards　bullying。

Nevertheless；　he　was　far　from　happy。　　Dr　Skinner　was　much　too　like
his　father。　　True；　Ernest　was　not　thrown　in　with　him　much　yet；　but
he　was　always　there；　there　was　no　knowing　at　what　moment　he　might
not　put　in　an　appearance；　and　whenever　he　did　show；　it　was　to　storm
about　something。　　He　was　like　the　lion　in　the　Bishop　of　Oxford's
Sunday　storyalways　liable　to　rush　out　from　behind　some　bush　and
devour　some　one　when　he　was　least　expected。　　He　called　Ernest　〃an
audacious　reptile〃　and　said　he　wondered　the　earth　did　not　open　and
swallow　him　up　because　he　pronounced　Thalia　with　a　short　i。　　〃And
this　to　me；〃　he　thundered；　〃who　never　made　a　false　quantity　in　my
life。〃　　Surely　he　would　have　been　a　much　nicer　person　if　he　had　made
false　quantities　in　his　youth　like　other　people。　　Ernest　could　not
imagine　how　the　boys　in　Dr　Skinner's　form　continued　to　live；　but　yet
they　did；　and　even　throve；　and；　strange　as　it　may　seem；　idolised
him；　or　professed　to　do　so　in　after　life。　　To　Ernest　it　seemed　like
living　on　the　crater　of　Vesuvius。

He　was　himself；　as　has　been　said；　in　Mr　Templer's　form；　who　was
snappish；　but　not　downright　wicked；　and　was　very　easy　to　crib　under。
Ernest　used　to　wonder　how　Mr　Templer　could　be　so　blind；　for　he
supposed　Mr　Templer　must　have　cribbed　when　he　was　at　school；　and
would　ask　himself　whether　he　should　forget　his　youth　when　he　got
old；　as　Mr　Templer　had　forgotten　his。　　He　used　to　think　he　never
could　possibly　forget　any　part　of　it。

Then　there　was　Mrs　Jay；　who　was　sometimes　very　alarming。　　A　few　days
after　the　half　year　had　commenced；　there　being　some　little　extra
noise　in　the　hall；　she　rushed　in　with　her　spectacles　on　her　forehead
and　her　cap　strings　flying；　and　called　the　boy　whom　Ernest　had
selected　as　his　hero　the　〃rampingestscampingestracketytackety…
…tow　…row…roaringest　boy　in　the　whole　school。〃　　But　she　used　to　say
things　that　Ernest　liked。　　If　the　Doctor　went　out　to　dinner；　and
there　were　no　prayers；　she　would　come　in　and　say；　〃Young　gentlemen；
prayers　are　excused　this　evening〃；　and；　take　her　for　all　in　all；　she
was　a　kindly　old　soul　enough。

Most　boys　soon　discover　the　difference　between　noise　and　actual
danger；　but　to　others　it　is　so　unnatural　to　menace；　unless　they　mean
mischief；　that　they　are　long　before　they　leave　off　taking　turkey…
cocks　and　ganders　au　serieux。　　Ernest　was　one　of　the　latter　sort；
and　found　the　atmosphere　of　Roughborough　so　gusty　that　he　was　glad
to　shrink　out　of　sight　and　out　of　mind　whenever　he　could。　　He
disliked　the　games　worse　even　than　the　squalls　of　the　class…room　and
hall；　for　he　was　still　feeble；　not　filling　out　and　attaining　his
full　strength　till　a　much　later　age　than　most　boys。　　This　was
perhaps　due　to　the　closeness　with　which　his　father　had　kept　him　to
his　books　in　childhood；　but　I　think　in　part　also　to　a　tendency
towards　lateness　in　attaining　maturity；　hereditary　in　the　Pontifex
family；　which　was　one　also　of　unusual　longevity。　　At　thirteen　or
fourteen　he　was　a　mere　bag　of　bones；　with　upper　arms　about　as　thick
as　the　wrists　of　other　boys　of　his　age；　his　little　chest　was　pigeon…
breasted；　he　appeared　to　have　no　strength　or　stamina　whatever；　and
finding　he　always　went　to　the　wall　in　physical　encounters；　whether
undertaken　in　jest　or　earnest；　even　with　boys　shorter　than　himself；
the　timidity　natural　to　childhood　increased　upon　him　to　an　extent
that　I　am　afraid　amounted　to　cowardice。　　This　rendered　him　even　less
capable　than　he　might　otherwise　have　been；　for　as　confidence
increases　power；　so　want　of　confidence　increases　impotence。　　After
he　had　had　the　breath　knocked　out　of　him　and　been　well　shinned　half
a　dozen　times　in　scrimmages　at　footballscrimmages　in　which　he　had
become　involved　sorely　agains