"Well then, my boy," went on father in his logical way, anxious that I
should clearly understand all the bearings of the case, and have the
advantages and disadvantages of each calling succinctly set before me,
"there is medicine now, if you dislike the study of Themis, as your
gesture would imply. It is a noble profession, that of healing the sick
and soothing those bodily ills which this feeble flesh of ours is heir
to, both the young and old alike--an easier task, by the way, than that
of ministering to `the mind diseased,' as Shakespeare has it; although,
mind you, I must confess that a country physician, such as you could
only hope to be, for I have not the means of buying you a London
practice, has generally a hard life of it, and worse pay. However, this
is beside the question; and I want to avoid biassing your decision in
any way. Tell me, would you like to be a doctor--eh?"
But to this second proposal of my father as to my future career, I again
signified my disapproval by shaking my head; for I did not wish to
interrupt his argument by speaking until he had finished all he had to
say on the subject, and I could see he had not yet quite done.
"H'm, the wise man's dictum as to speech being silvern and silence gold
evidently holdeth good with the boy, albeit such discretion in youth is
somewhat rare," he murmured softly to himself, as if unconsciously
putting his thoughts in words, adding as he addressed me more directly:
"You ought to get on in life, Allan; for `a still tongue,' says the
proverb, `shows a wise head.' But now, my son, I've nearly come to the
end of the trio of learned professions, without, I see, prepossessing
you in favour of the two I have mentioned. You are averse to the law,
and do not care about doctoring; well then, there's the church, last
though by no means least--what say you to following my footsteps in that
sacred calling, as your brother Tom purposes doing when he leaves Oxford
after taking his degree?"