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naughty things； but he was always doing them。 He had heard that
some grown…up people were worldly； which of course was wrong； still
this was quite distinct from being naughty； and did not get them
punished or scolded。 His own Papa and Mamma were not even worldly；
they had often explained to him that they were exceptionally
unworldly； he well knew that they had never done anything naughty
since they had been children； and that even as children they had
been nearly faultless。 Oh！ how different from himself！ When should
he learn to love his Papa and Mamma as they had loved theirs？ How
could he hope ever to grow up to be as good and wise as they； or
even tolerably good and wise？ Alas！ never。 It could not be。 He
did not love his Papa and Mamma； in spite of all their goodness both
in themselves and to him。 He hated Papa； and did not like Mamma；
and this was what none but a bad and ungrateful boy would do after
all that had been done for him。 Besides he did not like Sunday； he
did not like anything that was really good； his tastes were low and
such as he was ashamed of。 He liked people best if they sometimes
swore a little； so long as it was not at him。 As for his Catechism
and Bible readings he had no heart in them。 He had never attended
to a sermon in his life。 Even when he had been taken to hear Mr
Vaughan at Brighton； who； as everyone knew； preached such beautiful
sermons for children； he had been very glad when it was all over；
nor did he believe he could get through church at all if it was not
for the voluntary upon the organ and the hymns and chanting。 The
Catechism was awful。 He had never been able to understand what it
was that he desired of his Lord God and Heavenly Father； nor had he
yet got hold of a single idea in connection with the word Sacrament。
His duty towards his neighbour was another bugbear。 It seemed to
him that he had duties towards everybody； lying in wait for him upon
every side； but that nobody had any duties towards him。 Then there
was that awful and mysterious word 'business。' What did it all
mean？ What was 'business'？ His Papa was a wonderfully good man of
business； his Mamma had often told him sobut he should never be
one。 It was hopeless； and very awful； for people were continually
telling him that he would have to earn his own living。 No doubt；
but howconsidering how stupid； idle； ignorant； self…indulgent； and
physically puny he was？ All grown…up people were clever； except
servantsand even these were cleverer than ever he should be。 Oh；
why； why； why； could not people be born into the world as grown…up
persons？ Then he thought of Casabianca。 He had been examined in
that poem by his father not long before。 'When only would he leave
his position？ To whom did he call？ Did he get an answer？ Why？
How many times did he call upon his father？ What happened to him？
What was the noblest life that perished there？ Do you think so？
Why do you think so？' And all the rest of it。 Of course he thought
Casabianca's was the noblest life that perished there； there could
be no two opinions about that； it never occurred to him that the
moral of the poem was that young people cannot begin too soon to
exercise discretion in the obedience they pay to their Papa and
Mamma。 Oh； no！ the only thought in his mind was that he should
never； never have been like Casabianca； and that Casabianca would
have despised him so much； if he could have known him； that he would
not have condescended to speak to him。 There was nobody else in the
ship worth reckoning at all： it did not matter how much they were
blown up。 Mrs Hemans knew them all and they were a very indifferent
lot。 Besides Casabianca was so good…looking and came of such a good
family。〃
And thus his small mind kept wandering on till he could follow it no
longer； and again went off into a doze。
CHAPTER XXX
Next morning Theobald and Christina arose feeling a little tired
from their journey； but happy in that best of all happiness； the
approbation of their consciences。 It would be their boy's fault
henceforth if he were not good； and as prosperous as it was at all
desirable that he should be。 What more could parents do than they
had done？ The answer 〃Nothing〃 will rise as readily to the lips of
the reader as to those of Theobald and Christina themselves。
A few days later the parents were gratified at receiving the
following letter from their son …
〃My Dear Mamma；I am very well。 Dr Skinner made me do about the
horse free and exulting roaming in the wide fields in Latin verse；
but as I had done it with Papa I knew how to do it； and it was
nearly all right； and he put me in the fourth form under Mr Templer；
and I have to begin a new Latin grammar not like the old； but much
harder。 I know you wish me to work； and I will try very hard。 With
best love to Joey and Charlotte； and to Papa； I remain； your
affectionate son； ERNEST。〃
Nothing could be nicer or more proper。 It really did seem as though
he were inclined to turn over a new leaf。 The boys had all come
back； the examinations were over； and the routine of the half year
began； Ernest found that his fears about being kicked about and
bullied were exaggerated。 Nobody did anything very dreadful to him。
He had to run errands between certain hours for the elder boys； and
to take his turn at greasing the footballs； and so forth； but there
was an excellent spirit in the school as regards bullying。
Nevertheless； he was far from happy。 Dr Skinner was much too like
his father。 True； Ernest was not thrown in with him much yet； but
he was always there； there was no knowing at what moment he might
not put in an appearance； and whenever he did show； it was to storm
about something。 He was like the lion in the Bishop of Oxford's
Sunday storyalways liable to rush out from behind some bush and
devour some one when he was least expected。 He called Ernest 〃an
audacious reptile〃 and said he wondered the earth did not open and
swallow him up because he pronounced Thalia with a short i。 〃And
this to me；〃 he thundered； 〃who never made a false quantity in my
life。〃 Surely he would have been a much nicer person if he had made
false quantities in his youth like other people。 Ernest could not
imagine how the boys in Dr Skinner's form continued to live； but yet
they did； and even throve； and； strange as it may seem； idolised
him； or professed to do so in after life。 To Ernest it seemed like
living on the crater of Vesuvius。
He was himself； as has been said； in Mr Templer's form； who was
snappish； but not downright wicked； and was very easy to crib under。
Ernest used to wonder how Mr Templer could be so blind； for he
supposed Mr Templer must have cribbed when he was at school； and
would ask himself whether he should forget his youth when he got
old； as Mr Templer had forgotten his。 He used to think he never
could possibly forget any part of it。
Then there was Mrs Jay； who was sometimes very alarming。 A few days
after the half year had commenced； there being some little extra
noise in the hall； she rushed in with her spectacles on her forehead
and her cap strings flying； and called the boy whom Ernest had
selected as his hero the 〃rampingestscampingestracketytackety…
…tow …row…roaringest boy in the whole school。〃 But she used to say
things that Ernest liked。 If the Doctor went out to dinner； and
there were no prayers； she would come in and say； 〃Young gentlemen；
prayers are excused this evening〃； and； take her for all in all； she
was a kindly old soul enough。
Most boys soon discover the difference between noise and actual
danger； but to others it is so unnatural to menace； unless they mean
mischief； that they are long before they leave off taking turkey…
cocks and ganders au serieux。 Ernest was one of the latter sort；
and found the atmosphere of Roughborough so gusty that he was glad
to shrink out of sight and out of mind whenever he could。 He
disliked the games worse even than the squalls of the class…room and
hall； for he was still feeble； not filling out and attaining his
full strength till a much later age than most boys。 This was
perhaps due to the closeness with which his father had kept him to
his books in childhood； but I think in part also to a tendency
towards lateness in attaining maturity； hereditary in the Pontifex
family； which was one also of unusual longevity。 At thirteen or
fourteen he was a mere bag of bones； with upper arms about as thick
as the wrists of other boys of his age； his little chest was pigeon…
breasted； he appeared to have no strength or stamina whatever； and
finding he always went to the wall in physical encounters； whether
undertaken in jest or earnest； even with boys shorter than himself；
the timidity natural to childhood increased upon him to an extent
that I am afraid amounted to cowardice。 This rendered him even less
capable than he might otherwise have been； for as confidence
increases power； so want of confidence increases impotence。 After
he had had the breath knocked out of him and been well shinned half
a dozen times in scrimmages at footballscrimmages in which he had
become involved sorely agains