CHAPTER XXXV.

LITTLE JACOB'S EDUCATION.

The rupture between Jacob Ogden and Miss Anison had an immediate effect

upon the fortunes of a young friend of ours, who has for a long time

been very much in the background. Little Jacob began to occupy a larger

and larger place in his uncle's thoughts. For, though Uncle Jacob had

formerly always intended, in a general way, to remain a bachelor, this

had been nothing more than a sort of intellectual preference for

bachelorhood, deduced from his general views of life, and especially

from his dominant anxiety to make a fortune. But his objections to

matrimony were no longer of this mild kind. Like a wild animal that has

once felt the noose of the trapper round its neck, and yet succeeded in

freeing itself, he had conceived a horror of the snare which was

incomparably more active and intense than the vague alarms of the

inexperienced. His former ideas about marriage had been purely negative.

He had no intention to marry, and there was the end of his reflections

on the matter. But now his preference for celibacy had taken the shape

of a passionate and unalterable resolution.

The increase of his fortune, which might henceforth be surely relied on,

led him to think a good deal about the little boy at Twistle Farm, who

was most probably destined to inherit it; and he determined to use a

legitimate influence over his brother Isaac, so that little Jacob might

be educated in a manner suitable to his future position.

We have said that Jacob Ogden was perfectly satisfied with himself, and

that knowledge was not his ideal. But although this is true, his views

were really larger than the reader may have hitherto suspected. He

considered himself perfect in his place; but as little Jacob would

probably have a very different place in the world, he would need

different perfections. The qualities needed for making a large fortune

were, in Jacob Ogden's view, the finest qualities that a human being can

possess, and he knew that he possessed them; but then there were certain

ornaments and accomplishments which were necessary to a rich gentleman,

and which the manufacturer had not had time to acquire. He was not

foolish enough to torment himself with regrets that he did not know

Latin and Greek; he had none of the silly humilities of weak minds that

are perpetually regretting their "deficiencies." Whatever it was

necessary for his main purpose that he should know, he always resolutely

set himself to learn, and, by strenuous application, mastered; what was

unnecessary for his purpose, he remained contentedly ignorant about. The

customary pedantries of the world, its shallow pretension to

scholarship, never humiliated _him_. He suspected, perhaps, that genuine

classical acquirement was much rarer than the varnish of

pseudo-scholarship, and he had not that deferential faith in gentlemen's

Latin and Greek which is sometimes found in the uneducated. But, on the

other hand, as he had learned every thing that was necessary to a

plodding Shayton cotton-spinner, so he was determined that little Jacob

should learn every thing necessary to a perfect English gentleman. He

had not read the sentence of Emerson, "We like to see every thing do its

office after its kind, whether it be a milk-cow or a rattlesnake;" but

the sentiment in it was his own. His strong sense perceived that so long

as men hold different situations in the world, their preparatory

training must be different; and that, as a young pigeon must learn to

fly, and a young terrier to catch rats, so the youthful heir of a

splendid fortune, and the boy who has his fortune to make, ought to

receive respectively a celestial and a terrestrial training.

For Jacob Ogden, himself a terrestrial, knew that there was a heaven

above him--the heaven of aristocracy! _There_ dwelt superior beings, in

golden houses, like gods together, far above the ill-used race of men

that cleave the soil and store their yearly dues. There is something

ludicrous, if it were not pathetic and painful, in the self-abasement of

a man so strong and resolute as Ogden before a heaven whose saints and

angels were only titled ladies and gentlemen, mainly occupied in amusing

themselves; but to him it was the World of the Ideal. And this religion

had one great advantage--it kept him a little humbler than he ever would

have been without it. Great was the successful cotton-spinner in his

eyes, but there were beings cast by nature in a nobler mould. For Jacob

Ogden actually believed, in all sincerity and simplicity, that there was

the same natural difference between a lord and a plebeian that there is

between a thorough-bred and a cart-horse. This superstition, though

founded on a dim sense of the natural differences which do exist, erred

in making them the obedient servants of the artificial differences.

There are, no doubt, thorough-breds and cart-horses amongst mankind, and

the popular phraseology would imply that there are also asses; but these

natural differences seem to be independent of title altogether, and

dependent even upon fortune only so far as it may help or hinder their

development. The superstition that lords, _quâ_ lords, are wiser, and

better, and braver, and more respectable than other people, was more

prevalent in Shayton than it is in places where lords are more

frequently seen.

Now, with this deeply rooted Anglican superstition about the heaven of

aristocracy and the angels that dwell therein, Uncle Jacob naturally

desired that his nephew should be qualified for admission there. And he

had a devout belief that the states of probation for a young soul

aspiring to celestial bliss were terms of residence at Eton and at

Oxford.

Little Jacob had continued his custom of staying at Milend every Sunday,

that he might benefit by the services of our friend Mr. Prigley in the

pew at Shayton Church. Isaac Ogden, though he had come to church three

Sundays in succession after the recovery of little Jacob, and had

attended divine service regularly as an officer of militia (being in

that character compulsible thereunto by martial law), had, I regret to

say, relapsed into his old habits of negligence at Twistle Farm, and

spent the Sunday there in following his own devices. It must be

admitted, however, that he did little harm, on that day or any other, to

himself or anybody else. He remained religiously faithful to his vow of

total abstinence, and spent several hours every day in giving a sound

elementary education to his son.

"I'll tell you what it is, Isaac," said Uncle Jacob one day when his

elder brother had come on one of his rare visits to Milend--"I'll tell

you what it is; if you'll just let me have my own way about th'

eddication o' th' young un, I'll leave him all my brass, and, what's

more, I don't mind payin' for his schoolin' beside. I want nowt nobbut

what's reet, but I'll make sich a gentleman on him as there isn't i' o

Shayton nor i' o Manchester nother. And to start wi', I reckon nowt of

his stoppin' up at Twistle Farm same as he is doin' an' idlin' away

auve[19] his time. Let him live at Milend regular for a twelvemonth, and

go to Prigley six hour every day, and then send him to Eton--that's

where gentlefolk sends their lads to. And afther that, we'll send him to

Hoxford College."

Wenderholme: A Story of Lancashire and Yorkshire · 第 35 / 40 章