HEREDITARY LAWS.
What man has not described, or made believe to be describing, the race
which the journals delight to call the "Inter-University Contest"? What
marvel, that we have sold our birth-right to an acephalous mollusk, when
the simple use of the tongue has passed into such headless mongreldom?
Self-consciousness compels such creatures to befoul their origin.
I, Tommy Upmore, am not a bit better than any of my neighbours; not half
so good as most of them--for I know my own faults, and I don't know
theirs, or at any rate don't want to know them--but what should I be, if
I hearkened to a foe, who takes out of me every gift of God, and turns
me adrift, to act by nothing but the standard, apes have formed for me?
"Truth is great, and shall prevail," he shouts; and to show her
greatness, proves that she never did exist till now.
Happily, this stuff never troubled us, while I was at Oxford. We looked
upon the chosen spirits of three thousand years, and more, as likelier
to have left things worthy of our heed and sequence, than the
half-taught men who spring up now, and by dint of smashing make a row.
The _pudor_, and _verecundia_, of youth were still existing; and we
looked up to our College Tutors, and University Lecturers,--men who had
made a life-long study of the work they dealt with, who attempted not to
gloze our minds with universal smattering, but forced us to learn of
some few subjects what is knowledge, and what is not. And this was the
distinction Mr. Cope had first tried to drive into me:
But no man, not di-cephalous--as some of our ancestors have been,
according to the "Scientists"--can manage to serve two masters well; and
being thus apprenticed to the river, I neglected the Aonian heights. My
mother believed, and Mr. Cope assisted her in believing, that I might
have done very well in the Schools; though not so grandly as Bill
Chumps. But I passed all examinations fairly, with my solid grounding,
and in the final one obtained what was called "an honorary fourth." This
satisfied my ambition; though some cuts at me have been made about it,
by people who knew no better.
_Grip_, who had been, for so many years, my trustful and trustworthy
friend, and had taken the warmest interest in my trencher-cap (which he
cracked up) and leading-strings (which he pulled off) was immensely
pleased with my bachelor's gown, although himself a Benedict. Throughout
the whole of my first term, Mr. Luker, the celebrated dogman, had kept
his brain at boiling-point (as he confessed most frankly, when I became
his admiring client) to make this noble dog his own. With the choicest
liver, he waylaid him, and the sweetest female blandishments; and
_Grip_, with either dewlap laughing, accepted all kind overtures, but
enfeoffed himself to none of them. At last, a very large sack was made
of tarred material, treble thick, and _Grip_ (overcome by his love of
the beautiful) was inveigled into it. But no sooner did he find his tail
shut in, and feel the Philistines on him, than he rent their toils, like
a bursting shell, and flew among them, like a charge of grapnel.
Thereupon Mr. Luker came to me, and explained his disappointment about
the dog; and assured me, that if he could only have got him, he might
have made a hundred pounds of him--to go to Egypt, and do more than
England can, put courage into the native animal. And he undertook, if I
would come to terms, to pledge his sacred word of honour, that "neither
himself nor any other gentleman, in Oxford, or in London, should
interfere with the honesty of the dog." Alas, poor dogs, whose honesty
depends upon that of their master!
Then Mr. Luker set before me, in words whose eloquence I cannot
reproduce, the loss, not only personal but national, not only national
but universal, if _Grip_ were allowed to depart this life, without
issue, legitimate and guaranteed. To him, the survival of the race of
_Grip_ was of infinitely greater moment, than the continuation of the
blood of Shakespeare, or Sir Isaac Newton. "Men comes, and they goes,"
he said, "and the Dooce himself couldn't pick half the ins and the outs
of them. But when it comes to dogs, Mr. Up, you can follow the breed, as
true as their own noses is."
So we came to a compact,--that he, understanding this elevated subject
thoroughly, should provide, for old _Grip_, as meet a consort as
knowledge of the dog-world might produce; and that I should have the
pick of baby _Grips_, whenever I gave a certificate of race, as soon as
each family was two months old. Thus I was enabled to fulfil old
promises made to sundry friends, especially Sir Roland Twentifold, and
Jack Windsor. And I always knew, which pup to choose, by following the
law of paternity among dogs, that the father growls most at his noblest
son.
Perhaps it was good for us both, (for surely I was idle enough without
him) that my old friend, Sir Roland, had made up his mind, to have
nothing to do with Oxford.
"When the institutions of the Country are in danger," he said, the last
time he came home from Harrow, "a man in my position must not waste
three years. The very week after I am twenty-one, I shall be returned
for Twentibury. Toggins will vacate the seat, to order; I shall stick to
it, till there is a vacancy for the county; and then we put Toggins in
again. Upmore, it is quite right that you, who have never been out of
leading-strings, should go into them for three years more, and get among
fellows who may do you good. But for me, it would be folly to waste
three years, and know less at the end than when I began. Why, at
twenty-one I should be a 'Junior Sophist,' or whatever they call a man
who has passed his Little-go; and I should have to wait a great deal
longer, if I meant to equal Chumps. I don't want to equal Chumps; he is
a wonderful fellow, and I mean to make him useful. But that is not my
line of life. I don't care a penny for the Classics; but I care, every
penny I possess, for the reputation of my Country."
And when he came to see me at Oxford, (as he did, one Summer-term) his
talk was chiefly to the same effect. "I am afraid you are a very lazy
lot," he said; "you don't seem to me, to have anything to live for,
except to play cricket, or pull, or smoke, or spoon upon girls in
confectioners' shops"--this was meant for me, who had taken him to see,
what lovely brown eyes a very nice girl had, at a place where we ate
ices; but Master Roland (clever as he thought himself) little knew why I
admired those brown eyes; which I may, or may not, have time to explain
hereafter--"and when you have done all that, and yawned, and perhaps
played a horn out of the window very badly, or cards yet worse, you can
go to bed, as happy as if you had done a great day's good. Pish! I am
very glad I never joined you. I want bigger games than yours."
This made me feel unhappy, as if I were despised; whereas the wise men
of all ages have continually told young men, to take their enjoyment
while they can; going far towards proving, at their own expense, that
folly has more joy than wisdom. But Sir Roland did not mean all this;
and I took it for nothing but his way of talking; because he would have
liked to be among us, but saw that he had thrown the chance away. My
idea of life was, to spend as much of it for other people's benefit as
they permit--in which matter they are most contrary--and the rest for my
own good, with honest enjoyment, and the certainty of better things to
come; if I do not labour chiefly to anticipate them here. And when I say
my own good, I mean, of course, the good of my Country, and relatives,
and friends; without which my own could not very well exist.
And after all, politics are a very small part of the general life of
most of us. Unless our character becomes involved, and our self-respect
grows downward, (like a troublesome toe-nail, that affects our walk) by
reason of base things done in our name, against our consent and
conscience; and unless we see things given away, which our fathers gave
their lives for; and unless we are plagued by nursery Acts of
Parliament, very good for the unbreeched--it matters but little to most
of us, whether the First Lord of the Treasury be a Conservative, or a
Liberal. With such things I never troubled my head, even when I grew to
be a Bachelor of Arts; until Sir Roland Twentifold came driving me about
them, and his strength of will was tenfold mine.
"Roly," I said, when I had kept my "Master's term," and enjoyed it
rarely among old friends, without a stroke of work; "you will never get
a bit of good out of me. I am not eloquent, I have no gift of speech; I
tried it at the Union once, and when everybody cried out, 'Bravo,
Tommy!' I could only laugh, and thank them, and sit down. If my father
had been a Rad, when he brought me up, (as he had been in his early
days) no doubt I should have been a sound Rad too. And for that matter,
so would you, I do believe, if you had been brought up to it. I know at
least a dozen very honourable Rads, some of them very clever fellows
too; who would no more think of doing anything mean, if they had the
government of the Country, than you would yourself, if you had it all
your own way. Then, why should we cry out, before we are hurt?"
"Because it's too late to cry out, when we are. What you say is true
enough, my good Tommy. Those friends of yours are all honourable enough,
individually, I dare say--though the less you have to do with them the
better--but when they fall under the dominance of party, what becomes of
all their scruples? They sink their own wills, they efface
themselves--according to the expression now in vogue--they fall under
one imperious mind; and no difference is left between black and white.
My father kept hounds, as you have heard me say; and when I was a small
boy, I rode my pony with them. There was one most obstinate old stager
of the pack, who had a wonderful nose while he was young, and had taken
the lead of all of them. But when he grew old he went all abroad; yet
the rest had to follow him all the same, on a false scent, more often
than a true one. At his dictation, all the younger ones, from habit,
sank their own better perceptions, and loyally rushed after sheep, or
donkeys, or anything he gave tongue to. But all these things we can talk
of better, when you come down; as you must, next month. You have only
been once to us, since you lost your father, more than five years ago.
And my mother always says, when I go home, 'Have you brought Ariel with
you, at last?'"
"How wonderfully kind she has always been to me!" I answered, liking
soft thoughts, better than the hard flash of politics; "if she wishes to
see me again, my duty is to go to her."
"Well, that is one way of putting it! A painful duty, my dear Tommy? We
will try to make it a pleasant one. You can't shoot; though people shoot
at you, when you take a flying fit. Come down in July, and stay three
months, and I'll make you a first-rate shot, by the time the partridges
are ready. You learn everything, like smoke, you see. I'll back you to
beat Counterpagne on the first; though he has been at it all his life."
"You forget one important point," I answered, hoping that the objection
might not prove fatal. "When a gun goes off, it kicks very hard, they
tell me. And it seems too probable, that it would kick me over."
"Not a bit of it, if you lean forward. You are easy to take up, but you
are not at all easy to put down, Master Tommy. You are as quick as
lightning, to begin with. Nature has provided you with that, no doubt,
to atone for your want of thunder. Don't be always running down
yourself. There are very few fellows who can do what you can; even if
you have altogether dropped your wings, through the gross feeding of
these Oxford butteries. But I mean you to put on your wings again. I
have a whole lot of things for you to do; and flying is a most essential
part. Professor Megalow is coming down; now that I am of age, and all
that sort of thing, he can stop at the Towers, as long as he likes. I am
sorry to inform you, that he is a Rad. But a man of his size may be
anything he likes, without being any the worse for it. I intend to
consult him about you, Tommy, how we may launch you on the clouds
again."
"I have not seen him for years," I said; "if he is going to be there,
'twill be enough to make me fly again."