Hold! said the Parson: a private school has its drawbacks. You can seldom produce large fishes in small ponds. In private schools the competition is narrowed, the energies stinted. The schoolmasters wife interferes, and generally coddles the boys. There is not manliness enough in those academies; no fagging, and very little fighting. A clever boy turns out a prig; a boy of feebler intellect turns out a well-behaved young lady in trousers. Nothing muscular in the system. Decidedly the namesake and descendant of Kenelm Digby should not go to a private seminary.
So far as I gather from your reasoning, said Sir Peter, with characteristic placidity, Kenelm Chillingly is not to go to school at all.
It does look like it, said the Parson, candidly; but, on consideration, there is a medium. There are schools which unite the best qualities of public and private schools, large enough to stimulate and develop energies mental and physical, yet not so framed as to melt all character in one crucible. For instance, there is a school which has at this moment one of the first scholars in Europe for head-master,a school which has turned out some of the most remarkable men of the rising generation. The master sees at a glance if a boy be clever, and takes pains with him accordingly. He is not a mere teacher of hexameters and sapphics. His learning embraces all literature, ancient and modern. He is a good writer and a fine critic; admires Wordsworth. He winks at fighting: his boys know how to use their fists; and they are not in the habit of signing post-obits before they are fifteen. Merton School is the place for Kenelm.
Thank you, said Sir Peter. It is a great comfort in life to find somebody who can decide for one. I am an irresolute man myself, and in ordinary matters willingly let Lady Chillingly govern me.
I should like to see a wife govern me, said the stout Parson.
But you are not married to Lady Chillingly. And now let us go into the garden and look at your dahlias.
CHAPTER VIII
THE youthful confuter of Locke was despatched to Merton School, and ranked, according to his merits, as lag of the penultimate form. When he came home for the Christmas holidays he was more saturnine than ever; in fact, his countenance bore the impression of some absorbing grief. He said, however, that he liked school very well, and eluded all other questions. But early the next morning he mounted his black pony and rode to the Parsons rectory. The reverend gentleman was in his farmyard examining his bullocks when Kenelm accosted him thus briefly,
Sir, I am disgraced, and I shall die of it if you cannot help to set me right in my own eyes.
My dear boy, dont talk in that way. Come into my study.
As soon as they entered that room, and the Parson had carefully closed the door, he took the boys arm, turned him round to the light, and saw at once that there was something very grave on his mind. Chucking him under the chin, the Parson said cheerily, Hold up your head, Kenelm. I am sure you have done nothing unworthy of a gentleman.
I dont know that. I fought a boy very little bigger than myself, and I have been licked. I did not give in, though; but the other boys picked me up, for I could not stand any longer; and the fellow is a great bully; and his name is Butt; and hes the son of a lawyer; and he got my head into chancery; and I have challenged him to fight again next half; and unless you can help me to lick him, I shall never be good for anything in the world,never. It will break my heart.
I am very glad to hear you have had the pluck to challenge him. Just let me see how you double your fist. Well, thats not amiss. Now, put yourself into a fighting attitude, and hit out at me,hard! harder! Pooh! that will never do. You should make your blows as straight as an arrow. And thats not the way to stand. Stop,so: well on your haunches; weight on the left leg; good! Now, put on these gloves, and Ill give you a lesson in boxing.
Five minutes afterwards Mrs. John Chillingly, entering the room to summon her husband to breakfast, stood astounded to see him with his coat off, and parrying the blows of Kenelm, who flew at him like a young tiger. The good pastor at that moment might certainly have appeared a fine type of muscular Christianity, but not of that kind of Christianity out of which one makes Archbishops of Canterbury.
Good gracious me! faltered Mrs. John Chillingly; and then, wife-like, flying to the protection of her husband, she seized Kenelm by the shoulders, and gave him a good shaking. The Parson, who was sadly out of breath, was not displeased at the interruption, but took that opportunity to put on his coat, and said, Well begin again to-morrow. Now, come to breakfast. But during breakfast Kenelms face still betrayed dejection, and he talked little and ate less.
As soon as the meal was over, he drew the Parson into the garden and said, I have been thinking, sir, that perhaps it is not fair to Butt that I should be taking these lessons; and if it is not fair, Id rather not