Et tibi quae Samios diduxit littera ramos,
Surgentem dextro monstravit limite callem.
Pers. three 56.
There has the Samian Y's instructive make,
Pointed the road thy doubtful foot should take;
There warned thy raw and yet unpractised youth,
To tread the rising right-hand path of truth.
Brewster.
They went home in different directions, and morally too their paths
henceforth were widely diverse. The Pythagoreans chose the letter Y as
their symbol for a good and evil life. The broad, sloping, almost
perpendicular left-hand stroke is an apt emblem for the facile downward
descent into Avernus; the precipitous and narrow right-hand stroke aptly
presents the slippery, uphillward struggle of a virtuous course I
remember to have seen, as a child, another and a similar emblem which
impressed me much. On the one side of the picture a snail was slowly
creeping up a steep path; on the other a stag rushed and bounded
unrestrained down the sheer proclivities of a wide and darkening hill.
Improvement is ever slow and difficult; degeneracy is too often
startling rapid. From henceforth, as we shall have occasion to see
hereafter, Walter was progressing from strength to strength, adding to
faith virtue, and to virtue temperance, and to temperance knowledge, and
to knowledge brotherly kindness, and to brotherly kindness charity--
"Springing from crystal step to crystal step
Of the bright air--;"
while our poor Kenrick was gradually descending deeper and deeper into
darkness and despair.
Yet he loved Walter, and sighed for the old intimacy, while he was daily
abusing his character and affecting to scorn his conduct. In short, a
change came over Kenrick. There had always been a little worm at the
root of his admiration of and affection for Walter. It was jealousy.
He did not like to hear him praised so loudly by his friends and
schoolfellows; and besides this he was vexed that Walter, Henderson, and
Power, were more closely allied to each other than to him. He had
struggled successfully against these unworthy feelings so long as Walter
was his friend, but now that he had allowed himself to seek a quarrel
with him they grew up with tremendous luxuriance. And he was so
thoroughly in the wrong, and so obstinate in persisting to misunderstand
and misrepresent his former friend, that gradually, by his pertinacity
and injustice, he alienated the regard of all those who had once been
his chosen companions. Even Whalley grew cool towards him. He had to
look elsewhere for associates, and unhappily he looked in the wrong
direction.
Meanwhile Walter, although he constantly grieved at the loss of a
friend, was otherwise very happy. The boys at Saint Winifred's were not
overworked; there was enough work to stimulate but not to oppress them,
and Walter's work grew more promising every day. He was fond of praise,
and Mr Percival, while he always took care so to praise him as to
obviate the danger of conceit, was not so scant of his approbation as
most men are. His warm and generous appreciation encouraged and
rewarded Walter's exertions, so that he was quite the "star" of his
form. Many other boys did well under Mr Percival. There was a bright
and cheerful emulation among them all, and they took especial pains with
their exercises, which Mr Percival varied in every possible way, so as
to call out the imagination and the fancy, to exercise both the reason
and the understanding, and to test the powers of attention and research.
His method was so successful that it was often a real pleasure to look
over the exercises of his form, and he had adopted one plan for keeping
up the boys' interest in them, which was eminently useful. All the
_best_ exercises, if they attained to any positive excellence, were sent
to Dr Lane; and at the end of the half-year, a number, printed opposite
to the boy's name, showed how often he had thus been "sent up for good."
If in one fortnight _four_ separate exercises were so sent up, the form
obtained, by this proof of industry, the remission of an hour's work,
and as this honour could never be cheaply won it was highly prized. Now
two or three times Walter's unusually brilliant exercises had been the
chief contribution towards winning these remitted hours, and this
success caused him double happiness, because it necessarily made him a
general favourite with the form. Henderson (who had only got a single
remove at the beginning of the term, but had worked so hard in his new
form that he had succeeded in his purpose of winning a remove _during_
the term, and so being again in the same division with Walter) did his
best to earn the same distinction, but he only succeeded when the
exercise happened to be an English one, and on a subject which gave some
opportunity for his sense of the ludicrous. He generally contrived to
introduce some purely fictitious "Eastern Apologue" as he called it; and
as he rarely managed to keep the correct Oriental colouring, his
combinations of Sultans, Tchokadars, Odaliques, and white bears, were
sometimes so inexpressibly absurd that Mr Percival, to avoid fits of
laughter, was obliged to look over his exercises alone. Nor were his
eccentricities always confined to his English themes; his Latin verses
were occasionally no less extraordinary, and in one set, on the suicide
of Ajax, the last few lines consisted of fragmentary words interspersed
here and there with numerous stars--a phenomenon which he explained to
Mr Percival in the gravest manner possible, by saying that here the
voice of Ajax was interrupted by sobs!
Happy in his work, Walter was no less happy in his play. The glorious
mid-day bathes on the hard sparkling yellow sands when the sea was
smooth as the blue of heaven, and clear as transparent glass--the long
afternoons on the green and sunny cricket field--the strolls over the
mountains, and lazy readings under a tree in the fragrant fir-groves--
all invigorated him, and gave to his face the health, and to his heart
the mirth, which told of an innocent life and a vigorous frame.
But it must not be supposed that he escaped troubles of his own, and his
first trouble rose out of the kind boyish protectorate which he had
established over little Eden's interests.
His rescue of Eden from the clutches of a bad lot was one of Walter's
proudest and gladdest reminiscences. Instead of moping about miserable
and lonely, and rapidly developing into a rank harvest the evil seeds
which his tormentors had tried to plant in his young heart, Eden was now
the gayest of the gay. Secure from most annoyances by possessing the
refuge of Power's study, and the certainty of Walter's help, he soon
began to assert his own position among all the boys of his own age and
standing. No longer crushed and intimidated by bullying and bad
companions, he was lively, happy, and universally liked, but never
happier than when Walter and Power admitted him, as they constantly did,
into their own society.
Harpour and Jones, in their hatred against Walter, had an especial
reason to keep Eden as far as they could under subjection, in addition
to their general propensity to bully and domineer. They did not care to
torment him when Walter was present, because with him, in spite of their
hostility, they felt it wise to maintain an armed neutrality. But
whenever Walter was absent, they felt themselves safe. None of the
other boys in their dormitory interfered except Henderson, and his
interposition, though always generous, was both morally and physically
weaker than Walter's. He would not, indeed, allow any positive cruelty,
but he was not thoughtful or stable enough to see the duty of
interfering to prevent other and hardly less tolerable persecutions.
It so happened that at a game of cricket Walter by accident had received
a blow on the knee from the cricket-ball bowled by Franklin, who was a
tremendously hard and swift bowler. The hurt which this had caused was
so severe that he was ordered by Dr Keith to sleep on the ground-floor
in the cottage for a fortnight, in order to save him the exertion of
running up and down so many stairs. The opportunity of this prolonged
absence was maliciously seized by the tyrants of Number 10; but Eden
bore up far more manfully than he had done in the old days. He was
quite a different, and a far braver little fellow, thanks to Walter,
than he had been the term before; and, looking forward to his friend's
speedy return, he determined to bear his troubles without saying a word
about them. He was far more bullied during this period than Henderson
knew of, for some of the threats and commands by which he was coerced
were given in Henderson's absence, as he was allowed to sit up half an
hour later than those in the form below. For instance, Eden was ordered
never to look at a book or to finish learning his lessons in the
bedroom; and he was strictly forbidden to get up until the second bell
rang in the morning. If he disobeyed these orders, he was soused with
water, pelted with shoes, and beaten with slippers, and on the whole he
found it better to be content to lose place in form, and to get
impositions for missing chapel, than to attempt to brave these
hindrances. When, however, he had been late two mornings running,
Henderson got the secret out of him, and at once entreated Harpour and
Jones to abandon this cruelty, throwing out hints that if they refused,
he would take some measures to get it stopped by one of the monitors.
If Eden had been plucky enough to embrace his natural right of obtaining
protection from one of his own schoolfellows in the sixth, he would have
been efficiently defended. Appealing to a monitor in order to secure
immunity from disgraceful and wholly intolerable bullying is a very
different thing from telling a master; and although the worst boys tried
to get it traditionally regarded as an unmitigated form of sneaking, yet
the public opinion of the best part of the school would have been found
to justify it. But the two bullies knew that Eden would never have the
heart to venture on this appeal; and although they desisted from this
particular practice at Henderson's request, they knew that he was too
wavering a character, and too fond of popularity to be _easily_ induced
to make them his open enemies. If Eden had only told Walter, he knew
that Walter would have sheltered him from unkindness at all hazards; but
he was a thoroughly grateful child, and did not wish to get Walter into
any difficulties on his account. So, in schoolboy phrase, there was
nothing left for him but to "grin and bear it;" which he heroically did,
earnestly longing for Walter's return to the dormitory as for some
golden age. But his trials were not over yet.
Is there in human nature an instinctive cruelty? That there is in
it--_when ill-trained_--an absorbing selfishness, a total absence of all
tenderness and delicate consideration, is abundantly obvious. But
besides this, there is often an astonishing and almost incredible
tendency to take positive pleasure in the infliction of pain. Now it so
happens that Jones and Harpour were bad boys, as I have shown already,
in the worst sense of the word, and yet the real _enjoyment_ which they
felt in making little Eden's life miserable is an inexplicable
phenomenon. One would have thought that the mere sight of the little
boy, his tender age; his delicate look, his extreme gentleness and
courtesy of manner, and the mute appealing glance in his blue eyes,
would have sufficed to protect him from wanton outrage. It _did_
suffice with most boys; but if anything, it added zest and piquancy to
the persecutions of those two big bullies.
Reader, have you ever been "taken prisoner?" that is to say, have you
ever been awaked from a sweet sleep by feeling an intolerable agony in
your right toe, and finding that it is caused by somebody having tied a
string tight round it without waking you, and then pulling the said
string with all his force? If not, congratulate yourself thereupon, and
accept the assurance of one who has undergone it, that the pain caused
by this process is absolutely excruciating. It was this pain which made
Eden start up with a scream during one of the nights I speak of, and the
cry rose in intensity as he grew fully awake to the sensation.
"Hallo! what's the row, Eden?" said Henderson, starting up in bed; but
the child could only continue his screams, and Henderson, springing out
of bed stumbled against the string, and instantly (for the trick was a
familiar one) knew what was being done. As quick as thought he seized
the string with his right-hand and, by pulling it _towards_ Eden,
slackened the horrible tension of it, while with his left-hand he
rapidly took out a knife from his coat pocket and cut the cord in two.
Jones and Harpour, tittering at the success of their machination, were
standing with the string in their hands just outside the door in the
passage, and the sudden jerk showed them that the string was severed.
"I'll tell you what it is," said Henderson to them, with the most
deliberate emphasis, "I don't care if you do lick me for telling you the
truth, but you two are just a couple of the greatest brutes in the
school."
"What's the matter, Flip?" asked Franklin, from his bed, in a drowsy
tone.
"Matter! why those two _brutes_," said Henderson, with strong
indignation, "have been taking poor little Eden prisoner, and hurting
him awfully."
"What a confounded shame!" said Franklin and Anthony in one voice; for
they, too, though they were sturdy fellows, had had some experience of
the bullies in their earlier school days; and of late, following
Walter's example, they had always energetically opposed this
maltreatment of Eden.
"Draw it mild, you three, or we'll kick you," said Harpour.
"But we won't draw it mild," said Franklin; "it's quite true; you and
Jones _are_ brutes to bully that poor little fellow so. He never hurt
you."
"What an uppish lot you nips are," said Harpour; "it's all that fellow
Evson's doing. Hang me, if I don't take it out of you;" and he advanced
with a slipper in his hand towards Franklin.
"Touch him if you dare," said Henderson; "if you do Anthony and I will
stick by him; and, Cradock, you'll see fair play, won't you?"
"Pooh," said Cradock. "I'm asleep. Fight it out by yourselves."
"Never mind these little fools, Harpour," said Jones; "they're beneath
your notice. Besides, it's time to turn off to sleep." For Jones had
earned his soubriquet by always showing a particularly large white
feather when there was any chance of a fray.
"Phew, Jones; none of us would give much for _you_," said Henderson
contemptuously. "_Little_ fools, indeed! You know very well that _you_
daren't lay a finger on the least of us, whether we're beneath your
notice or no. An ostrich is a big bird, but its white feathers are
chiefly of use in helping it to run away." He went to Eden's bedside,
for the child was still sobbing with pain, and was evidently in a great
state of nervous agitation.
"Never mind, Eden," he said, in a kind and soothing voice; "think no
more of it; we won't let them take you prisoner again." And as he spoke
he took his place by Eden's side, and looked with angry defiance at the
two bullies.
"Those fellows hurt me so," said Eden, in an apologetic tone, bravely
trying to check his tears. "Oh, I wish Evson would come back."
"He is coming back in a night or two; his knee is nearly well. I
haven't helped you enough, poor little fellow. I'm so sorry. I say,
you _brutes_," he continued, raising his voice, "next time you bully
Eden, I'll tell Somers as sure as fate."
"Tell away then," jeered Harpour; "better go and tell him before your
shoes wear out."
"Ah, you'll change your tone, Master Harpour, when you've been well
whopped," answered Henderson.
"I should like to see Somers or any one else whop me," said Harpour, in
an extremely "Ercles vein"; "by Jove! Lane himself shouldn't do it."
"Oh, indeed!"
"I'll `oh, indeed,' you!" said Harpour, getting out of bed; but here
Cradock interfered, seized Harpour with his brawny arm, and said--
"There, that's badgering enough for one night. Do let a fellow go to
sleep."
Harpour got into bed again, and Henderson, once more reassuring Eden
that he should not be again molested, followed his example. But, half
with fright and half with pain, the poor boy lay awake most of the
night, and when he _did_ fall asleep he constantly started up again with
troubled dreams.
Next morning the two parties in the dormitory would hardly speak to each
other. They rose at daggers drawn, and in the highest dudgeon.
Henderson was glad Anthony and Franklin had openly espoused the right
side, and was pleased at _anything_ which drew them out of the
pernicious influence of the other two. This wasn't by any means a
pleasant state of things for Jones and Harpour, and it made them hate
Eden, the innocent cause of it, more than ever. Moreover, Harpour who
was not accustomed to be openly bearded, did not choose to let the reins
of despotism slip so easily out of his hands, and he determined to
avenge himself yet, and to show that neither entreaties nor threats
should prevent him from being as great a bully as he chose.
"Understand _you_, Henderson," he said, while they were dressing; "that
I shall do exactly what I like to that little muff there."
Eden reddened and said nothing; but Henderson, looking up from his
wash-hand basin, replied--"And understand _you_, Harpour, that if you
bully him any more, I'll tell the head of the school."
Harpour made a spring at Henderson to thrash him for these words, but
again the burly Cradock interposed by saying, good-humouredly, as he put
himself in Harpour's way, "There, stop squabbling, for goodness' sake,
you two, and let's have a little peace. Flip, you shut up."