It was a huge, high, airy room, with two large windows looking on to the
school close.[2] There were twelve beds in the room, the one in the
furthest corner by the fireplace occupied by the sixth-form[3] boy who
was responsible for the discipline of the room, and the rest by boys in
the lower-fifth and other junior forms, all fags[1] (for the fifth-form
boys, as has been said, slept in rooms by themselves). Being fags, the
eldest of them was not more than about sixteen years old, and all were
bound to be up and in bed by ten; the sixth-form boys came to bed from
ten to a quarter-past (at which time the old verger came round to put
the candles out), except when they sat up to read.
[Footnote: 2: Tom Brown, an old Rugby boy, has come back after his
vacation, full of plans for the good times which he expects to have with
his chum East and other cronies. He is, however, called into the
housekeeper's room and introduced to a shy, frail boy, whom he is asked
to receive as his roommate and to look out for in the early days of his
life at Rugby. Although greatly disappointed, Tom sees no way to refuse
the request, and at the beginning of the selection here given we find
him with young Arthur in the boys' dormitory.]
[Footnote 3: The word _form_ is used in English schools instead of
_class_.]
[Footnote 1: In English schools the name _fag_ is applied to a boy who
does, under compulsion, menial work for a boy of a higher form. The
fagging system used to be greatly abused, the boys of the higher classes
treating their fags with the greatest cruelty; but the bad points of the
custom have been largely done away with.]
Within a few minutes, therefore, of their entry, all the other boys who
slept in Number 4, had come up. The little fellows went quietly to their
own beds, and began undressing and talking to each other in whispers;
while the elder, among whom was Tom, sat chatting about on one another's
beds. Poor little Arthur was overwhelmed with the novelty of his
position. The idea of sleeping in the room with strange boys had clearly
never crossed his mind before, and was as painful as it was strange to
him. He could hardly bear to take his jacket off; however, presently,
with an effort, off it came, and then he paused and looked at Tom, who
was sitting at the bottom of his bed talking and laughing.
"Please, Brown," he whispered, "may I wash my face and hands?"
"Of course, if you like," said Tom, staring; "that's your
washhand-stand, under the window, second from your bed. You'll have to
go down for more water in the morning if you use it all." And on he went
with his talk, while Arthur stole timidly from between the beds out to
his washhand-stand, and began his ablutions, thereby drawing for a
moment on himself the attention of the room.
[Illustration: THE BULLY CAUGHT IT ON HIS ELBOW]
On went the talk and laughter. Arthur finished his washing and
undressing, and put on his nightgown. He then looked round more
nervously than ever. Two or three of the little boys were already in
bed, sitting up with their chins on their knees. The light burned clear,
the noise went on. It was a trying moment for the poor little lonely
boy; however, this time he didn't ask Tom what he might or might not do,
but dropped on his knees by his bedside, as he had done every day from
his childhood, to open his heart to Him who heareth the cry and beareth
the sorrows of the tender child, and the strong man in agony.
Tom was sitting at the bottom of his bed unlacing his boots, so that his
back was toward Arthur, and he didn't see what had happened, and looked
up in wonder at the sudden silence. Then two or three boys laughed and
sneered, and a big brutal fellow, who was standing in the middle of the
room, picked up a slipper, and shied it at the kneeling boy, calling him
a sniveling young shaver. Then Tom saw the whole, and the next moment
the boot he had just pulled off flew straight at the head of the bully,
who had just time to throw up his arm and catch it on his elbow.
"Confound you, Brown, what's that for?" roared he, stamping with pain.
"Never mind what I mean," said Tom, stepping on to the floor, every drop
of blood in his body tingling; "if any fellow wants the other boot, he
knows how to get it."
What would have been the result is doubtful, for at this moment the
sixth-form boy came in, and not another word could be said. Tom and the
rest rushed into bed and finished unrobing there, and the old verger, as
punctual as the clock, had put out the candle in another minute, and
toddled on to the next room, shutting the door with his usual "Good
night, genl'm'n."
There were many boys in the room by whom that little scene was taken to
heart before they slept. But sleep seemed to have deserted the pillow of
poor Tom. For some time his excitement, and the flood of memories which
chased one another through his brain, kept him from thinking or
resolving. His head throbbed, his heart leaped, and he could hardly keep
himself from springing out of bed and rushing about the room. Then the
thought of his own mother came across him, and the promise he had made
at her knee, years ago, never to forget to kneel by his bedside, and
give himself up to his Father, before he laid his head on the pillow,
from which it might never rise; and he lay down gently and cried as if
his heart would break. He was only fourteen years old.
[Illustration: Rugby School]
It was no light act of courage in those days, my dear boys, for a little
fellow to say his prayers publicly even at Rugby. A few years later,
when Arnold's manly piety had begun to leaven the school, the tables
turned; before he died, in the schoolhouse at least, and I believe in
the other houses, the rule was the other way. But poor Tom had come to
school in other times. The first few nights after he came he did not
kneel down because of the noise, but sat up in bed till the candle was
out, and then stole out and said his prayers in fear, lest some one
should find him out. So did many another poor little fellow. Then he
began to think that he might just as well say his prayers in bed, and
then that it didn't matter whether he was kneeling, or sitting, or lying
down. And so it had come to pass with Tom as with all who will not
confess their Lord before men: and for the last year he had probably not
said his prayers in earnest a dozen times.
Poor Tom! the first and bitterest feeling which was like to break his
heart was the sense of his own cowardice. The vice of all others which
he loathed was brought in and burned in on his own soul. He had lied to
his mother, to his conscience, to his God. How could he bear it? And
then the poor little weak boy, whom he had pitied and almost scorned for
his weakness, had done that which he, braggart as he was, dared not do.
The first dawn of comfort came to him in swearing to himself that he
would stand by that boy through thick and thin, and cheer him, and help
him, and bear his burdens, for the good deed done that night. Then he
resolved to write home next day and tell his mother all, and what a
coward her son had been. And then peace came to him as he resolved,
lastly, to bear his testimony next morning. The morning would be harder
than the night to begin with, but he felt that he could not afford to
let one chance slip. Several times he faltered, for the devil showed
him, first, all his old friends calling him "Saint" and "Square-toes,"
and a dozen hard names, and whispered to him that his motives would be
misunderstood, and he would only be left alone with the new boy; whereas
it was his duty to keep all means of influence, that he might do good to
the largest number. And then came the more subtle temptation, "Shall I
not be showing myself braver than others by doing this? Have I any right
to begin it now? Ought I not rather to pray in my own study, letting
other boys know that I do so, and trying to lead them to it, while in
public at least I should go on as I have done?" However, his good angel
was too strong that night, and he turned on his side and slept, tired of
trying to reason, but resolved to follow the impulse which had been so
strong, and in which he had found peace.
Next morning he was up and washed and dressed, all but his jacket and
waistcoat, just as the ten minute's bell began to ring, and then in the
face of the whole room knelt down to pray. Not five words could he
say--the bell mocked him; he was listening for every whisper in the
room--what were they all thinking of him? He was ashamed to go on
kneeling, ashamed to rise from his knees. At last, as it were from his
inmost heart, a still small voice seemed to breathe forth words of the
publican, "God be merciful to me a sinner!" He repeated them over and
over, clinging to them as for his life, and rose from his knees
comforted and humbled, and ready to face the whole world. It was not
needed: two other boys besides Arthur had already followed his example,
and he went down to the great school with a glimmering of another lesson
in his heart--the lesson that he who has conquered his own coward spirit
has conquered the whole outward world; and that other one which the old
prophet learned in the cave of Mount Horeb, when he hid his face, and
the still small voice asked, "What doest thou here, Elijah?" that
however we may fancy ourselves alone on the side of good, the King and
Lord of men is nowhere without His witnesses; for in every society,
however seemingly corrupt and godless, there are those who have not
bowed the knee to Baal.
He found too how greatly he had exaggerated the effect to be produced by
his act. For a few nights there was a sneer or a laugh when he knelt
down, but this passed off soon and one by one all the other boys but
three or four followed the lead. I fear that this was in some measure
owing to the fact, that Tom could probably have thrashed any boy in the
room except the praepostor;[5] at any rate, every boy knew that he would
try upon very slight provocation, and didn't choose to run the risk of a
hard fight because Tom Brown had taken a fancy to say his prayers.
[Footnote 5: A praepostor is a monitor, a scholar appointed to oversee
other scholars.]