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BROWN AND ARTHUR
Once to every man and nation, cornea the moment to decide,
In the strife of Truth with Falsehood, for the good or evil side ;
Then it is the brave man chooses, while the coward stands aside,
Doubting iu his abject spirit ; till his Lord is crucified. โ "
ARRANGED FOR THE PRESS
BY A MOTHER.
Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1861, by
WEST & JOHNSTON,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States in and
for the District of Virginia.
The best and most useful years of my life have
been employed in teaching the young โ in an effort
totrain my young country women to proper intellec-
tual self-culture, and to lead them in the paths of
truth and right ; in short, to follow out the teachings
and follow up the wishes of anxious, tender, pious
parents, who, for the sake of literary advantages, had
consented to the temporary removal of their children
from the sacred sanctuary of home. My pupils are
scattered all over our broad and beautiful State, and
that of our sister and neighbor. North Carolina.
Some dwell in the far South, some in the far West,
and a few are doing their work in northern homes,
and fewer still abroad in our mother-land ; and it
gladdens my heart to know, that as the shadows
lengthen in my own descent to the grave, their rising
and meridian sun shines upon good christian daugh-
ters, sisters, wives, and mothers, who are doing the
work of life well and truly, and training others for
an inheritance beyond the skies. I never cease to
pray for them and tenderly to look after them, and
among the rewards of my laborious work is the
recollection of tlieirloviug loyalty, and the reversion
of aflfectionate regard which these young people most
kindly and cordially exhibit. Though separated by
sundering paths we sometimes meet ; and when that
is not allowed, I comfort myself with the aspiration :
*' Daughters and pupils may we meet
Where knowledge has its joy complete,
And love no parting knows."
Though no longer actively engaged in the work of
education I cannot lose my interest in the mental and
spiritual welfare of the young of our country ; and,
with the hope of benefitting them and of keeping
the links of association bright, I have sought to
arrange this little volume. It is compiled from a
work referring immediately to the school life of
hoys, but containing so much of general application,
that I am sure no parent or child, no teacher or
pupil, can read it without having every good motive
quickened and every high principle strengthened. I
have introduced some of the prayers of Dr. Arnold,
prepared for special occasions and under the peculiar
circumstances that arise in life at school ; and to this
preface I have subjoined a short prayer from my own
little collection, with the hope that it may assist some
youthful teacher in her office of devotion, and perhaps
remind some of those who once dwelt with me " as
children" of those morning hours, when, for years,
we knelt together and made the " offering to the
Lord" the first business of every day.
With the hope that the continued blessing of our
Heavenly Father may rest upon my pupils, this little
Tolume is dedicated to their children by their Mo-
ANNA MEAD CHALMERS.
Festival of All Saints, 1860.
MOKNING PRAYER FOR A FEMALE
O thou gi-eat and glorious God, who makest the out-
goings of the morning and evening to praise thee, we, thy
helpless children, would acknowledge thy goodness in per-
mitting us to behold the light of another day. We have
โข laid ourselves down in peace and slept, and have awaked,
for thou hast sustained us ; and now, O Lord, with grate-
ful hearts, we kneel before thee to ask for thy continued
protection and to implore from thee that grace which can
alone enable us to spend this day in safety and peace,
The darkness and the light are both ahke to thee. Thou
art about our beds by night and our paths by day, and
spiest out all our ways, and there is not a word of our
mouths, but thou, O Lord, knowest it altogether. May
this solemn thought so affect om* motives and actions,
that they may be always acceptable in thy sight.
We are collected together for the purpose of receiving
instruction, and are now about to commence another term
of duty. We feel om' own weakness, and pray for the
aid of thy Holy Spirit, that we may be guided and blessed
in all we undertake. Make us diligent in our studies,
respectful and attentive to our teachers, and gentle and
affectionate to each other. May we live together as a band
of sisters, and be kindly affectioned one toward another
Let all anger, evil speaking and impatience be far from
the hearts of each one of us, and the same mind dwell in
us that was also in our Lord Jesus Christ.
Vlll MORNING PRAYER FOR A FEMALE SCHOOL.
Suffer US not to forget, O Lord, that it is a part of our
duty to thee, faithfully to improve our time and present
privileges, and while we are pursuing our daily studies,
may we be led to seek that knowledge which causeth not
to err and will make us wise to salvation. May we set
the Lord Jesus Christ always before us as our great Master
and Teacher, and so learn of him that we may at length
be found among his redeemed children on high.
Most gracious God grant that thy blessing may rest
upon this school โ make it a nursery of virtue, of know-
ledge and holiness โ may a sense of thy continual presence
check every unholy feeling and calm every unruly temper.
Oh may each of these beloved children " seek thee early,"
and according to thy gracious promise find thee a good and
gracious God โ a God of love and truth. Sanctify the instruc-
tions they receive, and guide their 3'oung hearts to thee,
the great fountain of light and knowledge. May their
bodies and souls be precious in thy sight. If it seemeth
good unto thee, preserve them from sickness ; but may
they always remember that they are not too young to die,
and that one day in thy sight is as a thousand j^ears, and
a thousand years as one day.
Let thy heavenly blessing rest upon the teachers of this
school and upon those who preside in this household,
May a sense of their responsible trust keep them close to
thee, their only safe counsellor. Give them a right judg-
ment in all things โ wisdom from on high to guide, and
grace from on high to strengthen. While training the
minds of these young persons in the way of knowledge
and usefulness, may they never forget the priceless value
of their immortal souls โ for each of which the Lord Jesus
Christ died โ and may the sanctifying intluences of thy
Iloly Spirit accompany all their teachings.
MORNING PRATER FOR A FEMALE SCHOOL. ix
We now commit ourselves, O Lord, to thee. Make us
a happy and loving family ; bless our absent parents and
friends, and take us all this day and forever under the
shadow of thy Fatherly wings.
We ask for these and all other blessings in the name of
our Lord and Saviour Jesus Chi-ist, ^men.
It was recently said by Lord Brougham, that no
book published in England for the last fifty years
had done more good than "Tom Brown's School
Days," and a good and gifted clergyman of our own
American Church, has pronounced it a most able
auxiliary in the religious education of the young.
Its interest and influence cannot be attributed to the
narrative โ for that is so slight as hardly to form a
story โ being nothing more than a series of pictures
of the various parts of a school boy's life. There
must be something under this to give value to the
volume; and it is found in the impress it bears of the
spirit and teaching of the noble Dr. Arnold.
We find here illustrated in the every day incidents
of school life, the principle which this great teacher
so thoroughly possessed himself, and with which he
so successfully inspired his pupils, that there was a
work โ an individual work for each to do in this
world ; and that the only real happiness was to be
found in doing that work truly and faithfully. To
how many did he thus unfold a new life, causing a
strange joy to come over the weakest as well as
strongest at discovering that he had the means of
being useful. His pupils felt a sympathetic thrill,
caught from a master who was himself earnestly at
work in the world, and whose work was heartily and
cheerfully sustained and constantly carried forward
in the fear of God.
With this effort to encourage individual obligation
and responsibility was another, which in Dr. Arnold's
system was only subordinate to the first, as an evil
to be corrected rather than a duty enforced. It was
the subjugation of that slavish submission to the
opinion and habits ef eacj^othcr, which he considered
the crowning evil of public school education. No
half year passed without his preaching upon it ; he
turned it over and over in every possible point of
view ; he dwelt upon it as the one master fault of
all, and solemnly and earnestly did he reiterate and
enjoin the words of the prophet,
"Fear not, nor heed one another's voices,
But fear and heed the voice of God only."
These two features in the system of Dr. Arnold are
most strikingly illustrated in " Tom Brown's School
Days," that story of Rugby experience, which an
'^ old boy" has told with so much truth and humor
and fond minuteness of detail. The book has passed
through numerous editions, and it may seem a need-
less and bold step to touch or mutilate it. But it
is our high value of its teachings that leads us to
make this compilation. We believe that a more
touching and inspiring sketch of truth and manly-
piety in a boy was never written, than that of George
Arthur, found near the close of this volume, and
we want to bring that sketch into the hands of every
boy and girl in our land ; to give it a niche in every
Sunday-school library, and thus to show how, even
in the secular school room, the grace and beauty of
early piety can transform and elevate the rude and
Excellent and amusing as it all is, there is much
in " Tom Brown" that is inapplicable to our American
school life and system, (I wish, indeed, that it were
not so, and that our boys had their cricket matches
and boxing clubs), and we have, therefore, with the
permission of the publishers, selected an episode,
" the turning point of the hero's life," in which the
true spirit of the discipline of Dr. Arnold is most
fully and happily illustrated. This is the nucleus of
our little book, but we have gone hack to Stanley's
Life of Arnold, and forward to " Tom Brown at
Oxford," gleaning from each such incidents and recol-
lections as fully illustrated the same ruling principle
of disinterested effort for the welfare of the young,
based upon a constant sense of their responsibility
to God in the performance of every duty, the enjoy-
ment of every pleasure. In short, striving to show
that it was possible to ยฉbey literally the apostolic
injunction, " Whether ye eat or drink^ or whatever
ye do, do all in tlio name of Jesns Clirist," so that,
not only the church, but the school-room, the study,
and the playground, would be made scenes of healthy
christian feeling and activity.
We will now give a slight sketch of Tom Brown's
earhj days at Rugby, that the portion of the volume
extracted may be more fully understood. His expe-
riences are like those of others at an English public
school. Though in the main a true, brave boy, he
is easily led off by unwise companions ; makes war
upon school regulations; gets flogged for trespassing;
reported for scrambling on the roof of the tower and
there scratching his name on the minute hand of the
clock ; punished for going to Kugby Fair, and other-
wise subjected to the penalties " made and provided"
for various treasons, felonies, and misdemeanors.
Dr. Arnold was a silent observer of his course. He
saw that there was talent and truth and right feeling
at the bottom, though as the old verger said, '' Brown
was mighty bad on top,''^ and the Dr.'s peculiar dis-
cipline is now brought upon the stage. Henry
East, the fidus achates of the hero, is a boy of simi-
lar temper and feeling, and. being an older Rugbean
has taken him by the hand, and together, they were
getting into " all sorts of scrapes." Active, earnest,
mercurial boys, who would never make the regular
school work their first business. So the Doctor
resolved to give Brown, in particular, some object
besides games and mischief to expend his surplus
energy upon. At the end of the second half-year,
when the new boys came, the Dr. without assigning
any reason, arranged that Brown and East should
be separated, and that George Arthur, a quiet, re-
fined, timid boy, with a delicate body and strong
principles,'^should be assigned to Tom as a chum.
His hope was, that having some one to lean upon
him, Tom would stand straight himself, and gradu-
ally attain moral thoughtfulness and strength. The
story, as we now take it up, will show the success of
the experiment. The mutual influence of boys of
such difi'erent characters is strikingly shown, by the
wisdom and sagacity of Dr. Arnold. The advantage
is reciprocal. Arthur reclaims Tom, who, in his turn
wins Arthur by degrees from physical timidity, and
initiates him into the athletics of the place.
We insert, in continuation, the closing pages of
the book, with some notices from Stanley of the death
of Dr. Arnold. Nothing can be more touching, and
at the same cime more manly, than the grief with
which Brown receives the sad news ; the rush and
conflict of feeling ; sorrow for the loss of one so
deeply loved and reverenced ; regret at the retrospect
of his own careless boyhood, which, in the solemn
light of that hour,
"Stamps with remorse each waited hour of time,
And darkens each young folly into crime."
the burst of grateful love that the memory of his old
master excites, are all told with a simplicity, truth,
and manly piety, which must-fiad its way to every
That this "โ Episode," in which the religious cha-
racter of the youthful Arthur is so happily delineated,
may lead other school boys to "go and do likewise,"
is the sincere wish of the " Mother" who arranged
Virginia, Festival of All Saints, 18 GO.
BSOWIT IND ISTHUR:
CHAPTER I. ^
HOW THE TIDE TURNED.
" Once to every man and nation, comes the moment to decide
In the strife of Truth with Falsehood, for the good or eril side;
* * * ยป * *
Then it is the bi*ave man chooses, while the coward stands aside.
Doubting in his abject spirit, till his Lord is crucified."
The turning point in Tom Brown's school
career had now come, and tlie manner of it was
as follows. On the evening of the first day of the
next half-year, Tom, East, and another school-
house boy, who had just been dropped at the
Spread Eagle by the old Regulator, rushed into
the matron's room in high spirits, such as all
real boys are in when they first get back, how-
ever fond they may be of home.
''Well, Mrs. Wixie," shouted one, seizing
on the methodical, active little dark-eyed woman,
who was busy stowing away the linen of the
18 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
boys who had already arrived in their several
pigeon-holes, '' here we are again you see, jolly
as ever. Let us help you put the things away."
"And, Mary," cried another, (she was called
indifferently by either name,) '%ho's come back ?
Has the Doctor made old Jones leave ? How
many new boys are there ? "
" Am I and East to have Gray's study ? You
know you promised to get it for us if you
could," shouted Tom.
"And am I to sleep m No. 4?" roared East.
"How's old Sam, and Bogle, and Sally?"
"Bless the boys," cries Mary, at last getting
in a word, "why you'll shake me to death.
There, now, do go away up to the housekeeper's
room and get your suppers ; you know I haven't
time to talk โ you'll find plenty more in the
house. Now, Master East, do let those things
alone โ you're mixing up three ne\\i boys'
things." And she rushed at East, who escaped
round the open trunks holding up a prize.
*' Hullo, look here, Tommy," shouted he,
"here's fun!" and he brandished above his
head some pretty little night-caps, beautifully
made and marked, the work of loving fingers
in some distant country home. The kind mo-
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 19
ther and sisters, wlio sewed that delicate stitcliing
with aching hearts, little thought of the trouble
they might be bringing on the young head for
which they were meant. The little matron was
wiser, and snatched the caps from East before
he could look at the name on them.
''Now, Master East, I shall be very angry if
you don't go," said she; "there's some capital
cold beef and pickles up stairs, and I won't have
you old boys in my room first night."
โข " Hurrah for the pickles ! Come along. Tom-
my, come along, Smith. We shall find out who
the young count is, I'll be bound ; I hope he'll
sleep in my room. Mary's always vicious first
As the boys turned to leave the room, the
matron touched Tom's arm, and said, " Master
Brown, please stop a minute. I want to speak
''Very Avell, Mary. I'll come in a minute.
East ; don't finish the pickles โ "
"Oh, Master Brown," went on the little matron
when the rest had gone, " you're to have Gray's
study, Mrs. Arnold says. And she wants you
to take in this young gentleman. He's a new
boy and thirteen years old, though he don't look
20 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
it. He's very delicate, and lias never been from
home before. And I told Mrs. Arnold I tbougbt
you'd be kind to him, and sec that they don't
bully him at first. He's put into your form,
and I've given him the bed next to yours in
K umber 4 ; so East can't sleep there this half."
Tom was rather put about by this speech.
He had got the double study which he coveted,
but here were conditions attached which greatly
moderated his joy. He looked across the room,
and in the far corner of the sofa, was aware of a
slight, pale boy, with large blue eyes and light
fair hair, who seemed ready to shrink through
the floor. He saw at a glance that the little
stranger was just the boy whose first half-year
at a public school would be misery to himself if
he were let alone, or constant anxiety to any
one who meant to see him through his troubles,
Tom was too honest to take in the youngster
and then let him shift for himself; and if he
took him as his chum instead of East, where
were all his pet plans of having a bottled-beer
cellar under his window, and making night-lines
and slings, and plotting expeditions to Brown-
sover Mills and Caldecott's Spinney ? East and
he had made up their minds to get this study,
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 21
and then every night from locking-iip till ten
they would be together, to talk about fishing,
drink bottled-beer, read Marryatt's novels, and
sort birds' eggs. And this new boy would most
likely never go out of the close, and would be
afraid of wet feet, and always getting laughed
at, and called Molly, or Jenny, or some deroga-
tory feminine nickname.
The matron watched him for a moment, and
saw what was passing in his mind, and so, like
a wise negotiator, threw in an appeal to his
warm heart. 'โข Poor little fellow," said she in
almost a whisper, ''his father's dead, and he's
got no brothers. And his mamma, such a kind
sweet lady, almost broke her heart at leaving
him this morning ; and she said one of his sisters
was like to die of decline, and so โ "
"Well, well," burst in Tom, with something
like a sigh at the effort, " I suppose I must give
up East. Come along, young 'un. What's your
name? We'll go and have some supper, and
then I'll show you our study,"
" His name's Greorge Arthur," said the matron,
walking up to him with Tom, who grasped his
little delicate hand as the proper preliminary to
making a chum of him, and felt as if he could
22 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
have blown liim away. " I've had liis books
and tilings put into the study, which his mamma
has had new papered, and the sofa covered, and
new green-baize curtains over the door," (the
diplomatic matron threw this in, to show that
the new boy was contributing largely to the part-
nership comforts.) " And Mrs. Arnold told me
to say," she added, '' that she should like you
both to come up to tea with her. You know
the way, Master Brown, and the things are just
gone up, I know."*
^ Here was an announcement for Master Tom !
โ 'He w^as to go up to tea the first night, just as if
he were a sixth or fifth-form boy, and of import-
ance in the school world, instead of the most
reckless scapegrace among the fags. He felt
himself lifted on to a higher moral and social
platform at once. Nevertheless he couldn't give
up, without a sigh, the idea of the jolly supper
in the housekeeper's room with East and the
rest, and a rush round to all the studies of his
friends afterwards, to pour out the deeds and
wonders of the holidays, to plot fifty plans for
the coming half-year, and to gather news of who
had left, and what new boys had come, wdio had
got who's study, and where the new priepostors
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 23
slept. However, Tom consoled himself with
thinking that he couldn't have done all this
with the new boy at his heels, and so marched
off along the passages to the Doctor's private
house, with his young charge in tow, in mon-
strous good humour with himself and all the
It is needless, and would be impertinent to
tell, how the two young boys were received in
that drawing-room. The lady who presided
there is still living, and has carried with her to
her peaceful home in the North the respect and
love of all those who ever felt and shared that
gentle and high-bred hospitality. Aye, many is
the brave heart now doing its work and bearing
its load in country curacies, London chambers,
under the Indian sun, and in Australian towns
and clearings, which looks back with fond and
grateful memory to that school-house drawing-
room, and dates much of its highest and best
training to the lessons learnt there.
Besides Mrs. Arnold and one or two of the
elder children, there were one of the younger
masters, young Brooke, who was now in the
sixth and had succeeded to his brother's position
and influence, and another sixth-form boy there,
24 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
talking together before tlie fire. The master
and young Brooke, now a great strapping fellow
six leet high, eighteen years old, and powerful
as a coal-heaver, nodded kindly to Tom to his
intense glory, and then went on talking; the
other did not notice them. The hostess, after a
few kind words, w^hich led the boys at once and
insensibly to feel at their ease, to begin talking
to one another, left them with her own children
while she finished a letter. The young ones got
on fast and well, Tom holding forth about a
prodigious pony he had been riding out hunting,
and hearing stories of the winter glories of the
lakes, when tea came in, and immediately after
the Doctor himself.
, How frank, and kind, and manly, was his
greeting to the party by the fire ; it did Tom's
heart good to see him and young Brooke shake
hands, and look one another in the face; and
he didn't fail to remark that Brooke w^as nearly
as tall and quite as broad as the Doctor. And
his cup was full, when in another moment his
master turned to him with another warm shake
of the hand; and seemingly oblivious of all the
late scrapes which he had been getting into,
said, "Ah, Brown, you here! I hope you left
your father and all quite well at home."
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 25
, Yes, sir, quite well."
" And this is the little fellow who is to share
your study. Well, he doesn't look as we should
like to see him. He wants some Eugby air,
and cricket. And you must take him some
good long w^alks, to Bilton Grange, and Calde-
cott's Spinney, and show him what a pretty little
country we have about here."
Tom wondered if the Doctor knew that his
visits to Bilton Grange were for the purpose of
taking rook's nests (a proceeding strongly dis-
countenanced by the owner thereof), and those
to Caldecott's Spinney, were prompted chiefly by
the conveniences for setting night-lines. What
didn't the Doctor know? And what a noble
use he always made of it. He almost resolved to
abjure rook-pies and night-lines forever. The
tea went merrily off, the Doctor now talking of
holiday doings, and then of the prospects of the
half-year, what chance there was for the Balliol
scholarship, whether the eleven would be a good
one. Everybody was at their ease, and every-
body felt that he, young as he might be, was of
some use in the little school world, and had a
work to do there.
Soon after tea the Doctor went off to his study,
26 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
and the young boys a few minutes afterwards
took tlieir leave, and went out of tlie private
door which led from the Doctor's house into the
At the fire, at the further end of the passage,
was a crowd of boys in loud talk and laughter.
There was a sudden pause when the door opened,
and then a great shout of greeting, as Tom was
recognized marching down the passage.
'' Hullo, Brown, where do you come from ?"
" Oh, I've been to tea with the Doctor," says
Tom, with great dignity.
'' My eye," cried East. '' Oh ! so that's why
Mary called you back, and you didn't come to
supper. You lost something โ that beef and
pickles was no end good."
^' I say, young fellow," cried Hall, detecting
Arthur and catching him by the collar, '' what's
your name ? Where do you come from ? How
old are you ?"
Tom saw Arthur shrink back and look scared,
as all the group turned to him, but thought it
best to let him answer, just standing by his side
to support in case of need.
'' Arthur, sir. I come from Devonshire."
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 27
*' Don't call me 'sir,' you young muff. How
old are you ?"
" Can you sing ?"
The poor boy was trembling and hesitating.
Tom struck in โ "You be hanged, Tadpole.
He'll have to sing, whether he can or not, Satur-
day twelve weeks, and that's long enough off
" Do you know him at home, Brown ?"
"No, but he's my chum in Gray's old study,
and it's near prayer time, and I haven't had a
look at it yet. Come along, Arthur."
Away went the two, Tom longing to get his
charge safe under cover, where he might advise
him on his deportment.
"What a queer chum for Tom Brown," was
the comment at the fire ; and it must be con-
fessed so thought Tom himself, as he lighted
his candle, and surveyed the new green-baize
curtains, and the carpet and sofa with much
" I say, Arthur, what a brick your mother is
to make us so cosy. But look here now, you
must answer straight up when the fellows speak
to you, and don't be afraid. If you're afraid,
28 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
you'll get bullied. And don't you say you
can sing ; and don't you ever talk about home,
and your mother and sisters."
Poor little Arthur looked ready to cry.
''But please," said he, '' mayn't I talk about
โ about home to you ?"
'^ Oh, yes, I like it. But don't talk to boys
you don't know, or they'll call you home-sick,
or mamma's darling, or some such stuff. What
a jolly desk! is that your's? And what stun-
ning binding ! why, your school-books look like
And Tom was soon deep in Arthur's goods
and chattels, all new and good enough for a
fifth -form boy, and hardly thought of his friends
outside, till the prayer-bell rung.
I have already described the school-house
prayers ; they were the same on the first night
as on the other nights, save for the gaps caused
by the absence of those boys who came late,
and the line of new boys who stood all together
at the further table โ of all sorts and sizes, like
young bears, with all their troubles to come, as
Tom's father had said to 1dm when he was in
the same position. He thought of it as he looked
at the line, and poor little slight Arthur standing
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 29
with therQ; and as lie was leading him np stairs
to Number 4, directly after prayers, and showing
him his bed. It was a huge, high, airy room,
with two large windows looking on to the school
close. There were twelve beds in the room.
The one in the furthest corner by the fireplace,
occupied by the sixth-form boy who was respon-
sible for the discipline of the room, and the rest
by boys in the lower-fifth and other junior forms,
all fags, (for the fifth-form boys, as has been said,
slept in rooms by themselves.) Being fags, the
eldest of them was not more than about sixteen
years old, and were all bound to be up and in
bed by ten ; the sixth-form boys came to bed
from ten to a quarter past, (at which time the
old verger came round to put the candles out,)
except when they sat up to read.
Within a few minutes, therefore, of their
entry, all the other boys who slept in Number
4 had come up. The little fellows went quietly
to their own beds, and began undressing and
talking to one another in whispers ; while the
elder, amongst whom was Tom, sat chatting
about on one another's beds, with their jacket
and waistcoats off. Poor little Arthur was over-
whelmed with the novelty of his position. The
30 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
idea of sleeping in tlie room with strange boys,
had clearly never crossed liis mind before, and
was as painful as it was strange to liim. He
could liardly bear to take liis jacket off; how-
ever, presently with an effort off it came, and
then he paused and looked at Tom, who was
sitting at the bottom of his bed, talking and
^'Please, Brown," he whispered, " may I wash
my face and hands ?"
"Of course, if you like," said Tom staring;
" that's your washhand-stand under the window,
second from your bed. You'll have to go down
for more water in the morning if you use it all."
And on he went with his talk, while Arthur
stole timidly from between the beds out to his
washhand-stand, and began his ablutions, thereby
drawing for a moment on himself the attention
of the room.
On went the talk and laughter. Arthur
finished his washing and undressing, and put on
his night-gown. He then looked round more
nervously than ever. Two or three of the little
boys were already in bed, sitting up with their
chins on ther knees. The light burned clear,
the noise went on, It was a trying moment for
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 31
tlie poor little lonely boy ; however this time lie
didn't ask Tom what he might or might not do,
but dropped on his knees by his bedside, as he
had done every day from his childhood, to open
his heart to Him, who heareth the cry and beareth
the sorrows of the tender child, and the strong
man in agony.
Tom was sitting at the bottom of his bed unlac-
ing his boots, so that his back was towards Arthur,
and he didn't see what had happened, and looked
up in wonder at the sudden silence. Then two
or three boys laughed and sneered, and a big
brutal fellow, who was standing in the middle
of the room, picked up a slipper, and shied it at
the kneeling boy, calling him a snivelling young
shaver. Then Tom saw the whole, and the next
n^oment the boot he had just pulled of flew
straight at the head of the bully, who had just
time to throw up his arm and catch it on his
"Confound you. Brown, what's that for?"
roared he, stamping with pain.
" Kever mind what I mean," said Tom, step-
ping on to the floor, every drop of blood in his
body tingling; "if any fellow wants the other
boot, he knows how to get it."
32 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
Wliat would have been the result is doubtful,
for at this moment the sixth-form boy came in,
and not another word could be said. Tom and
the rest rushed into bed and finished their un-
robing there, and the old verger, as punctual as
the clock, had put out the candle in another
minute, and toddled on to the next room, shutting
their door with his usual " Good night, genl'm'n."
There were many boys in the room by whom
that little scene was taken to heart before they
slept. But sleep seemed to have deserted the
pillow of poor Tom. For some time his excite-
ment, and the flood of memories which chased
one another through his brain, kept him from
thinking or resolving. His head throbbed, his
heart leapt, and he could hardly keep himself
from springing out of bed and rushing about the
room. Then the thought of his own mother
came across him, and the promise he had made
at her knee, years ago, never to forget to kneel
by his bedside, and give himself up to his Father,
before he laid his head on his pillow, from which
it might never rise ; and he lay down gently and
cried as if his heart would break. He was only
fourteen years old.
It was no light act of courage in those days,
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 33
my dear boys, for a little fellow to say his prayers
publicly, even at Rugby. A few years later,
wben Arnold's manly piety bad begun to leaven
the scbool, the tables turned ; before be died, in
the scbool-bouse at least, and I believe in the
other bouses, tbe rule was the other way. But
poor Tom had come to school in other times. The
first few nights after he came he did not kneel
down because of the noise, but sat up in bed till
the candle was out, and then stole out and said
his prayers, in fear lest some one should find him
out. So did many another poor little fellow.
Then he began to think that he might just as
Avell say his prayers in bed, and then that it
didn't matter whether he was kneeling, or sitting,
or lying down. And so it had come to pass with
Tom, as with all who will not confess their Lord
before men ; and for the last year he had pro-
bably not said his prayers in earnest a dozen
Poor Tom ! the first and bitterest feeling which
was like to break his heart, was the sense of his
o^vn cowardice. The vice of all others which he
loathed was brought in and burned in on his own
soul. He had lied to his mother, to his con-
science, to his God. How could he bear it?
34 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
And then the poor little weak boy, whom he had
pitied and almost scorned for his weakness, had
done that, which he, braggart as he was, dared not
do. The first dawn of comfort came to him in
swearing to himself that he would stand by that
boy through thick and thin, and cheer him, and
help him, and bear his burthens, for the good
deed done that night. Then he resolved to write
home next day and tell his mother all, and what
a coward her son had been. And then peace
came to him as he resolved, lastly, to bear his
testimony next morning. The morning would
be harder than the night to begin with, but he
felt that he could not afford to let one chance
slip. Several times he faltered, for the devil
showed him first, all his old friends calling him
"Saint," and "Square-toes," and a dozen hard
names, and whispered to him that his motives
would be misunderstood, and he would only be
left alone with the new boy ; whereas it was his
duty to keep all means of influence, that he
might do good to the largest number. And then
came the more subtle temptation, "Shall I not
be showing myself braver than others by doing
this ? Have I any right to begin it now ? Ought
I not rather to pray in my own study, letting
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 35
otlier boys know that I do so, and trying to lead
tliem to it, while in public at least I slionld go
on as I have done?" However, his good angel
was too strong that night, and he turned on his
side and slept, tired of trying to reason, but
resolved to follow the impulse which had been
so strong, and in which he had found peace.
Next morning he was up and washed and
dressed, all but his jacket and waistcoat, just as
the ten minutes' bell began to ring, and then in
the face of the whole room knelt down to pray.
Not five words could he say โ the bell mocked
him ; he was listening for every whisper in the
room โ what were they all thinking of him?
He was ashamed to go on kneeling, ashamed to
rise from his knees. At last, as it Avere from his
inmost heart, a still small voice seemed to breathe
forth the words of the publican, " God be merci-
ful to me a sinner !" He repeated them over and
over, clinging to them as for his life, and rose
from his knees comforted and humbled, and ready
to face the whole world. It was not needed ; two
other boys besides Arthur had already followed
his example, and he went down to the great school
with a glimmering of another lesson in his heart โ
the lesson that he who has conquered his own cow-
36 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
ard spirit has conquered the whole outward world;
and that other one, which the old prophet learnt
in the cave at Mount Iloreb, when he hid his
face, and the still small voice asked, " What doest
thou here, Elijah ?" that however we may fancy
ourselves alone on the side of good, the King
and Lord of men is nowhere without His wit-
nesses ; for in every society, however seemingly
corrupt and godless, there are those who have
not bowed the knee to Baal.
He found, too, how greatly he had exaggerated
the effect to be produced by his act. For a few
nights there was a sneer or a laugh when he
knelt down, but this passed off soon, and one by
one all the other boys but three or four followed
the lead. I fear that this was in some measure
owing to the fact, that Tom could probably have
thrashed any boy in the room except the prae-
postor; at any rate, everybody knew that he
would try upon very slight provocation, and
didn't choose to run the risk of a hard fight
because Tom Brown had taken a fancy to say
his prayers. Some of the small boys of Number
4 communicated the new state of things to their
chums, and in several other rooms the poor little
fellows tried it on ; in one instance or so, where
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 3t
the pra3poster heard of it and interfered very
decidedly, with partial success ; hut in the rest,
after a short struggle, the confessors were bullied
or laughed down, and the old state of things went
on for some time longer. Before either Tom
Brown or Arthur left the school-house, there
was no room in which' it had not become the
regular custom. I trust it is so still, and that
the old heathen state of things has gone out for
CHAPTER 11. .
THE NEW BOY.
*' And Heaven's rich instincts in him grew
As effortless as woodhmd nooks
Send violets up and paint them blue." โ Lowell.
I DO not mean to recount all the little troubles
and annoyances whicli thronged upon Tom at
the beginning of this half-year, in his new-
character of bear-leader to a gentle little boy
straight from home. He seemed to himself to
have become a new boy again, without any of
the long-suffering and meekness indispensable
for supporting that character with moderate
success. From morning till night he had the
feeling of responsibility on his mind, and even
if he left Arthur in their study or in the close
for an hour, was never at ease till he had him in
sight again. He waited for him at the doors of
the school after every lesson and every calling-
over ; watched that no tricks were played him,
and none but the regulation questions asked;
kept his eye on his plate at dinner and breakfast,
to see that no unfair depredations were made
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 89
upon his viands; in short, as East remarked,
cackled after Mm like a hen with one chick. /-
Arthur took a long time thawing too, which
made it all the harder ^vork ; was sadly timid ;
scarcely ever spoke unless Tom spoke to him
first ; and, worst of all, would agree with him in
everything, the hardest thing in the world for
Brown to bear. He got quite angry sometimes,
as they sat together of a night in their study, at
this provoking habit of agreement, and was on
the point of breaking out a dozen times with a
lecture upon the propriety of a fellow having a
will of his own and speaking out ; but managed
to restrain himself by the thought that it might
only frighten Arthur, and the remembrance of
the lesson he had learnt from him on his first
night at Number 4. Then he would resolve to
sit still, and not say a word till Arthur began ;
but he was always beat at that game, and had
presently to begin talking in despair, fearing lest
Arthur might think he was vexed at something
if he didn't, and dog-tired of sitting tongue-tied.
It was hard work 1 But Tom had taken it up ;
and meant to stick to it, and go through with it,
so as to satisfy himself; in which resolution he
was much assisted by the chaffing of East and
40 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
Ills otlier old friends, who began to call liim "dry-
nurse," and otherwise to break their small wit
on him. But when they took other ground, as
they did every now and then, Tom was sorely
''Tell you what, Tommy," East would say,
you'll spoil young hopeful with too much cod-
dling. Why can't you let him^ go about by
himself, and find his own level ? He'll never be
worth a button, if you go on keeping him under
" Well, but he ain't fit to fight his own way
yet ; I'm trying to get him to it every day โ but
he's very odd. Poor little beggar ! I can't make
him out a bit. He ain't a bit like anything I've
ever seen or heard of โ he seems all over nerves ;
anything you say, seems to hurt him like a cut
or a blow."
" That sort of boy's no use here," said East,
" he'll ony spoil. Now I'll tell you what you do,
Tommy. Go and get a nice large band-box
made, and put him in with plenty of cotton-wool,
and a pap-bottle, labelled ' With care โ this side
up,' and send him back to mamma."
"I think I shall make a hand of him though,"
said Tom, smiling, "say what you will. There's
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 41
sometliing about him, every now and then, whicli
shows me he's got pluck somewhere in him.
That's the only thing after all, that'll wash, ain't
it, old Scud ? But how to get at it and bring
Tom took one hand out of his breeches-pocket
and stuck it in his back hair for a scratch, giving
his hat a tilt over his nose, his one method of in-
voking wisdom. He stared at the ground with
a ludicrously puzzled look, and presently looked
up and met East's eyes. That young gentlemen
slapped him on the back, and then put his arm
round his shoulder, as they strolled through the
quadrangle together. " Tom," said he, " blest if
you ain't the best old fellow ever was โ I do like
to see you go into a thing. Hang it, I wish I
could take things as you do โ but I never can
get higher than a joke. Everything's a joke. If
I was going to be flogged next minute, I should
be in a blue funk, but I couldn't help laughing
at it for the life of me."
After this East came a good deal to their study,
and took notice of Arthur ; and soon allowed to
Tom, that he was a thorough little gentleman,
and would get over his shyness all in good time i
which much comforted our hero. He felt every
42 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
day, too, the value of having an object in his
life, something that drew him out of himself;
and, it being the dull time of the year, and no
games going about for which he much cared, was
happier than he had ever yet been at school,
which was saying a great deal.
. The time which Tom allowed himself away
from his charge, was from locking-up till supper-
time. During this hour, or hour-and-a-half, he
used to take his fling, going round to the studies
of all his acquaintance, sparring or gossiping in
the hall, now jumping the old iron-bound tables,
or carving a bit of his name on them, then join-
ing in some chorus of merry voices ; in fact,
blowing off his steam, as we should now call it.
This process was so congenial to his temper,
and Arthur showed himself so pleased at the
arrangement, that it was several weeks before
Tom was ever in their study before supper. One
evening, however, he rushed in to look for an old
chisel, or some corks, or other article essential to
his pursuit for the time being, and while rum-
maging about in the cupboards, looked up for a
moment, and was caught at once by the figure
of poor little Arthur. The boy was sitting with
his elbows on the table, and his head leaning on
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 43
his handS; and before him an open book, on
which his tears were falling fast. Tom shut the
door at once, and sat down on the sofa by Ar-
thur, putting his arm round his neck.
"Why, young'un! what's the matter?" said he
kindly; "you ain't unhappy, are you?"
" Oh no. Brown," s^d the little boy, looking
up with the great tears in his eyes, "you are so
kind to me, I'm very happy."
"Why don't you call me Tom? lots of boys
do, that I don't like half so much as you. What
are you reading then ? Hang it, you must come
about with me, and not mope yourself," and Tom
cast down his eyes on the book and saw it was
the Bible. He was silent for a minute, and
thought to himself, "Lesson Number 2, Tom
Brown," โ and then said gently โ
"I'm very glad to see this, Arthur, and
ashamed that I don't read the Bible more, myself.
Do you read it every night before supper while
"Well, I wish you'd wait till afterwards, and
then we'd read together. But, Arthur, why
does it make you cry ?"
" Oh, it isn't that I'm unhappy. But at home,
44 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
wliile my fatlier was alive, we always read the
lessons after tea ; and I love to read them over
now, and try to remember what he said about
them. I can't remember all, and I think I
scarcely imderstand a great deal of what I do
remember. But it all comes back to me, so fresh,
that I can't help crying ^ometimes to think I
shall never read them again with him."
Arthur had never spoken of his home before,
and Tom hadn't encouraged him to do so, as his
blundering school-boy reasoning made him think
that Arthur would be softened and less manly
for thinking of home. But now he was fairly
interested, and forgot all about chisels and
bottled beer ; while with very little encourage-
ment Arthur launched into his home history,
and the prayer-bell put them both out sadly
when it rang to call them to the hall.
From this time Arthur constantly spoke of
his home, and above all, of his father, who had
been dead about a year, and whose memory Tom
soon got to love and reverence almost as much
as his own son did.
Arthur's father had been the clergyman of a
parish in the Midland counties, which had risen
into a large town during the war, and upon
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 45
whicli the Iiard years wHich followed had fallen
with a fearful weight. The trade had been half
ruined; and then came the old sad story, of mas-
ters reducing their establishments, men turned
off and wandering about, hungry and wan in
body, and fierce in soul, from the thought of
wives and children starving at home, and the
last sticks of furniture going to the pawn-shop.
Children taken from school, and lounging about
the dirty streets and courts, too listless almost to
play, and squalid in rags and misery. And then
the fearful struggle between the employers and
men; lowerings of wages, strikes, and the long
course of oft-repeated crime, ending every now
and then with a riot, a fire, and the county yeo-
manry. There is no need here to dwell upon
such tales ; the Englishman into whose soul they
have not sunk deep, is not worthy the name:
you English boys for whom this book is meant
( God bless your bright faces and kind hearts !)
will learn it all soon enough.
Into such a parish and state of society, Arthur's
father had been thrown at the age of twenty-five,
a young married parson, full of faith, hope, and
love. He had battled with it like a man, and
had lots of fine Utopian ideas about the perfect-
46 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
ability of mankind, glorious liumariity, and such
like knocked out of his head ; and a real, whole-
some Christian love for the poor, struggling,
sinning men, of whom he felt himself one, and
with and for whom he spent fortune, and strength
and life, driven into his heart. He had battled
like a man, and gotten a man's reward. No sil-
ver teapots or salvers, with flowery inscriptions,
setting forth his virtues and the appreciation of
a genteel parish; no fat living or stall, for which
he never looked, and didn't care ; no sighs and
praises of comfortable dowagers and well got-up
young women, who worked him slippers, sugared
his tea,and adored him as " a devoted man ; " but
a manly respect, wrung from the unwilling souls
of men who fancied his order their natural ene-
mies ; the fear and hatred of every one who was
false or unjust in the district, were he master or
man; and the blessed sight of women and chil-
dren daily becoming more human and more
homely, a comfort to themselves and to their
husbands and fathers.
These things of course took time, and had to
be fought for Avith toil and sweat of brain and
heart, and with the life blood poured out. A โ ''
that, Arthur had laid his account to give, a.
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 41
took as a matter of course ; neither pitying him-
self, or looking on himself as a martyr, when he
felt the wear and tear making him feel old before
his time, and the stifling air of fever dens telling
on his health. His wife seconded him in every-
thing. She had been rather fond of society, and
much admired and run after before her marriage ;
and the London world to which she had belonged,
pitied poor Fanny Evelyn when she married the
young clergyman, and went to settle in that
smoky hole Turley, a very nest of chartism and
atheism, in a part of the county which all the
decent families had had to leave for years. ' How-
ever, somehow or other she didn't seem to care.
If her husband's living had been amongst green
fields and near pleasant neighbours, she would
have liked it better, that she never pretended to
deny. But there they were: the air wasn't bad
after all ; the people were very good sort of peo-
ple, civil to you if you were civil to them, after
the first brush ; and they didn't expect to work
miracles, and convert them all ofi-hand into
model Christians.' So he and she went quietly
among the folk, talking to and treating them
just as they would have done people of their own
rank. They didn't feel that they were doing
48 BROWN AND ARTUUR.
anytliing out of the common way, and so were
perfectly natural, and had none of that condescen-
sion or consciousness of manner, which so
outrages the independent poor. And thus they
gradually won respect and confidence ; and after
sixteen years he was looked up to by the whole
neighbourhood as the just man, the man to whom
masters and men could go in their strikes, and
all in their quarrels and difficulties, and by whom
the right and true word would be said without
fear or favour. And the women had come
round to take her advice, and go to her as a
friend in all their troubles ; while the children
all worshipped the very ground she trod on.
They had three children, two daughters and a
son, little George, who came between his sisters.
He had been a very delicate boy from his child-
hood; they thought he had a tendency to
consumption, and so he had been kept at home
and taught by his father, who had made a
companion of him, and from whom he had gained
good scholarship, and a knowledge of and interest
in many subjects which boys in general never
come across till they are many years older.
Just as he reached his thirteenth year, and
his father had settled that he was strong enough
BiiO'vVX AND ARTHUR. 49
to go to school, and, after much debating with
himself, had resolved to send him there, a des-
perate typhus-fever broke out in the town ; most
of the other clergy, and almost all the doctors,
ran away ; the work fell with tenfold weight on
those who stood to their work. Arthur and his
wife both caught the fever, of which he died in
a few days, and she recovered, having been able
to nurse him to the end, and store up his last
words. He was sensible to the last, and calm
and happy, leaving his wife and children with
fearless trust for a few years in the hands of the
Lord and Friend who had lived and died for
him, and for whom he, to the best of his power,
had lived and died. His widow^s mourning
was deep and gentle ; she was more affected by
the request of the Committee of a Freethinking
club, established in the town by some of the
factory hands (which he had striven against with
might and main, and nearly suppressed), that
some of their number might be allowed to help
bear the coffin, than any thing else. Two of
them were chosen, who, with six other labouring
men, his own fellow- workmen and friends, bore
him to the grave โ a man who had fought the
Lord's fight, even unto the death. The shops
50 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
were closed, and the factories shut that day in
the parish, yet no master stopped the day's
wages; but for many a year afterwards the
townsfolk felt the want of that brave, hopeful,
loving parson, and his wife, who had lived to
teach them mutual forbearance and helpfulness,
and had almost at last given them a glimpse of
what this old world would be, if people would
live for God and each other, instead of for
What has all this to do with our story ? Well,
my dear boys, let a fellow go on his own way,
or you won't get any thing out of him worth
having. I must show you what sort of a man it
was who had begotten and trained little Arthur,
or else you won't believe in him, which I am
resolved you shall do, and you won't see how he,
the timid, weak boy, had points in him from
which the bravest and strongest recoiled, and
made his presence and example felt from the
first, on all sides, unconsciously to himself, and
without the least attempt at proselytizing. The
spirit of his father was in him, and the Friend to
whom his father had left him did not neglect the
After supper that night, and almost nightly
BEOWN AND ARTHUR. 51
for years afterwards, Tom and Arthur,, and by
degrees East occasionally, and sometimes one,
sometimes another, of their friends, read a chapter
of the Bible together, and talked it over after-
wards. Tom was at first utterly astonished, and
almost shocked, at the sort of way in which
Arthur read the book, and talked about the men
and women whose lives were there told. The
first night they happened to fall on the chapters
about the famine in Egypt, and Arthur began
talking about Joseph as if he were a living
statesman ; just as he might have talked about
Lord Grey and the Eeform Bill ; only that they
were much more living realities to him. The
book was to him, Tom saw, the most vivid and
delightful history of real people, who might do
right or wrong, just like any one who was
walking about in Rugby โ the Doctor, or the
master, or the sixth-form boys. But the aston-
ishment soon passed off, the scales seemed to
drop from his eyes, and the book became at once
and forever, to him the great human and divine
book, and the men and women, whom he had
looked upon as something quite different from
himself, became his friends and counsellors.
For our purposes, however, the history of one
52 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
night's reading Avill be snfficient, whicli must be
told here, now we are on the subject, though it
didn't happen till a year afterwards, and long
after the events recorded in the next chapter of
Arthur, Tom and East were together one
night, and read the story of Naaman coming to
Elisha to be cured of his leprosy. When the
chapter was finished, Tom shut the Bible with
" I can't stand that fellow ISTaaman," said he,
" after what he'd seen and felt, going back and
bowing himself down in the house of Kimmon,
because his efieminate scoundrel of a master did
it. I wonder Elisha took the trouble to heal
him. How he must have despised him."
" Yes there you go off" as usual, with a shell
on your head," stuck in East, who always took
the opposite side to Tom; half from love of
argument, half from conviction. " How do you
know he didn't think better of it ? how do you
know his master was a scoundrel ? His letter
don't look like it, and the book don't say so."
"I don't care," rejoined Tom; "why did
Naaman talk about bowing down, then, if he
didn't mean to do it ? He wasn't likely to ge
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 53
more in earnest wlien he got back to court, and
away from the prophet."
"Well but, Tom," said Arthur, "see what Elisha
says to him, ' Go in peace.' He wouldn't have
said that if Naaman had been in the wrong."
"I don't see that that means more than saying,
' You're not the man I took you for.' "
"No, no, that won't do at all," said East; "read
the words fairly, and take men as you find them.
I like Naaman, and think he was a very fine
" I don't," said Tom positively.
" Well, I think East is right," said Arthur ;
" I can't see but what it's right to do the best
you can, though it mayn't be the best absolutely.
Every man isn't born to be a martyr."
" Of course, of course," said East ; " but he's
on one of his pet hobbies. How often have I
told you, Tom, that you must drive a nail where
'' And how often have I told you," rejoined
Tom, '^ that it'll always go where you want, if
you only stick to it and hit hard enough. I
hate half-measures and compromises."
'' Yes, he's a whole-hog man, is Tom. Must
have the whole animal, hair and teeth, claws and
54 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
tail," laughed East. '' Sooner have no bread any
day, than half the loaf."
"I don't know," said Arthur, ''it's rather
puzzling; but ain't most right things got by
proper compromises, I mean where the princi-
ple isn't given up ?"
"That's just the point," said Tom; "I don't
object to a compromise, where you don't give up
" Not you," said East laughingly. '' I know
him of old, Arthur, and you'll find him out some
day. There isn't such a reasonable fellow in the
world, to hear him talk. He never wants any-
thing but what's right and fair ; only when you
come to settle what's right and fair, it's every
thing that he wants, and nothing that you want.
And that's his idea of a compromise. Give me
the Brown compromise when I'm on Ms side."
"Now, Harry," said Tom, "no more chaff โ
I'm serious. Look here โ this is what makes
my blood tingle ;" and he turned over the pages
of his Bible and read, " Shadrach, Meshach, and
Abednego answered and said to the king, " O
Nebuchadnezzar, we are not careful to answer
thee in this matter. If it he so, our God whom
we berve is able to deliver us from the burning
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 55
fiery furnace, and He will deliver ns out of thine
hand, O king. But ^ not, be it known unto
thee, king, that we will not serve thy gods,
nor worship the golden image which thou hast
set up. He read the last verse twice, emphasiz-
ing the nots, and dwelling on them as if they
gave him actual pleasure, and were hard to part
They were silent a minute, and then Arthur
said, " Yes that's a glorious story, but it don't
prove your point, Tom, I think. There are
times when there is only one way, and that the
highest, and then the men are found to stand in
" There's always a highest way, and it's always
the right one," said Tom. " How many times
has the Doctor told us that in his sermons in the
last year, I should like to know ?"
" Well, you ain't going to convince us, is he
Arthur? No Brown compromise to-night," said
East, looking at his watch. " But it's past eight
and we must go to first lesson. What a bore."
So they took down their books and fell to
work; but Arthur didn't forget, and thought
lono^ and often over the conversation.
ARTHUR MAKES A FRIEND.
" Let nature be your teacher,
Sweet is the lore which Nature brings;
Our meddling intellect
Mis-shapcB the beauteous forms of things,
โ \Ve miirder to dissect โ
Enough of Science and of Art ;
Close up those barren leaves,
Come forth, and bring with you a heart
That watches and receives."โ Wordsworth.
About six weeks after the beginning of tlie
half, as Tom and Arthur were sitting one night
before supper beginning their verses, Arthur
suddenly stopped, and looked up, and said,
" Tom, do you know anything of Martin ?"
" Yes," said Tom, taking his hand out of his
back hair, and delighted to throw his Gradus ad
Parnassum on to the sofa : " I know him pretty
well. He's a very good fellow, but as mad as a
hatter. He's called Madman, you know. And
never was such a fellow for getting all sorts of
rum things about him. He tamed two snakes
last half, and used to carry them about in his
pocket, and I'll be bound he's got some hedge-
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 61
hogs and rats in his cupboard now, and no one
knows what besides."
" I should like very much to know him," said
Arthur ; " he was next to me in the form to-day,
and he'd lost his book and looked over mine,
and he seemed so kind and gentle, that I liked
him very much."
"Ah, poor old madman, he's always losing his
books," said Tom, "and getting called up and
floored because he hasn't got them."
" I like him all the better," said Arthur.
** Well, he's great fun, I can tell you," said
Tom, throwing himself back on the sofa and
chuckling at the remembrance. " We had such
a game with him one day last half. He had
been kicking up horrid scents for some time in
his study, till I suppose some fellow told Mary,
and she told the Doctor. Any how, one day a
little before dinner, when he came down from
the library, the Doctor, instead of going home,
came striding into the hall. East and I and five
or six other fellows were at the fire, and pre-
ciously we stared, for he don't come in like that
once a year, unless it's a wet day and there's a
fight in the hall. "East," says he, "just come
and show me Martin's study." ^' Oh, here's a
58 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
game," whispered the rest of us, and we all cut
up stairs after the Doctor, East leading. As we
got into the New Row, which was hardly wide
enough to hold the Doctor and his gown, click,
click, click, we heard in the old madman's den.
Then that stopped all of a sudden, and the bolts
went to like fun : the madman knew East's step,
and thought there was going to be a siege.
" It's the Doctor, Martin. He's here and wants
to see you," sings out East.
' Then the bolts went back slowly, and the door
opened, and there was the old madman standing,
looking precious scared ; his jacket off, his shirt-
sleeves up to his elbows, and his long skinny
arms all covered with anchors and arrows and
letters, tattooed in with gunpowder like a sailor-
boy's, and a smell fit to knock you down coming
out. 'Twas all the Doctor could do to stand his
ground, and East and I, who were looking in
under his arms, held our noses tight. The old
magpie was standing on the window-sill, all his
feathers drooping, and looking disgusted and
"'What can you be about, Martin?' says the
Doctor ; ' you really mustn't go on in this way โ
you're a nuisance to the whole passage.'
BROWN AND ARTHUR. o9
^" ' Please, sir, I was only mixing up this pow-
der, there isn't any harm in it; and the madman
seized nervously on his pestle and mortar, to
show the Doctor the harmlessness of his pursuits,
and went off pounding : click, click, click ; he
hadn't given six clicks before, puff! up went the
whole into a great blaze, away w^ent the pestle
and mortar across the study, and back we tumbled
into the passage. The magpie fluttered down
into the court, screaming, and the madman danced
out, howling, with his fingers in his mouth.
The Doctor caught hold of him, and called to
us to fetch some water. 'There, you silly fel-
low,' said he, quite pleased though to find he
wasn't much hurt, 'you see you don't know the
least what you are doing with all these things ;
and now, mind, you must give up practising
chemistry by yourself.' Then he took hold of
his arm and looked at it, and I saw he had to
bite his lip, and his eyes twinkled ; but he said,
quite grave, ' Here, you see, you've been making
all these foolish marks on yourself, which you
can never get out, and you'll be very sorry for
it in a year or two; now come down to the
housekeeper's room, and let us see if you are
hurt.' And away went the two, and we all staid
60 BROWN AND ARTHUR
and had a regular turn-out of the den, till Martin
came back with his hand bandaged and turned
us out. However, I'll go and see what he's
after, and tell him to come in after prayers to
supper." And away went Tom to find the boy
in question, who dwelt in a little study by him-
self, in New Row.
The aforesaid Martin, whom Arthur had taken
such a fancy for, was one of those unfortunates,
who were at that time of day (and are, I fear,
still) quite out of their places at a public- school.
If we knew how to use our boys, Martin would
have been seized upon and educated as a natu-
ral philosopher. He had a passion for birds,
beasts, and insects, and knew more of them and
their habits than any one in Rugby; except,
perhaps, the Doctor, who knew everything. He
was also an experimental chemist on a small
scale, and had made unto himself an electric
machine, from which it was his greatest pleasure
and glory to administer small shocks to any
small boys who were rash enough to venture
into his study. And this was by no means an
adventure free from excitement ; for, besides the
probability of a snake dropping on to your head
or twining lovingly up your leg, or a rat getting
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 61
into your breeches-pocket in searcli of food,
there was the animal and chemical odour to be
faced, which always hung about the den, and
the chance of being blo^Ti up in some of the
many experiments which Martin was always
trying, with the most wondrous results in the
shape of explosions and smells that mortal boy
ever heard of Of course, poor Martin, in con-
sequence of his pursuits, had become an Ishma-
elite in the house. In the first-place he half-
poisoned all his neighbours, and they in turn
were always on the look-out to pounce upon any
of his numerous live stock, and drive him frantic,
by enticing his pet old magpie out of his win-
dow into a neighbouring study, and making the
disreputable old bird drunk on toast soaked in
beer and sugar. Then Martin, for his sins, in-
habited a study looking into a small court some
ten feet across, the window of which was com-
pletely commanded by those of the studies
opposite in the sick-room row, these latter be-
ing at a slightly higher elevation. East, and
another boy of an equally tormenting and inge-
nious turn of mind, now lived exactly opposite,
and had expended huge pains and time in the
preparation of instruments of annoyance for the
62 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
belioof of Martin and liis live colony. One
morning an old basket made its appearance, sus-
pended by a short cord outside Martin's window,
in which were deposited an amateur nest contain-
ing four young hungry jackdaws, the pride and
glory of Martin's life for the time being, and
which he was currently asserted to have hatched
upon his own person. Early in the morning
and late at night he was to be seen half out of
the window, administering to the varied wants
of his callow brood. After deep cogitation.
East and his chum had spliced a knife on to the
end of a fishing-rod ; and having watched Mar-
tin out, had, after half an hour's severe sawing,
cut the string by which the basket was suspended,
and tumbled it on to the pavement below, with
hideous remonstrance from the occupants. Poor
Martin, returning from his short absence, col-
lected the fragments and replaced his brood
(except one whose neck had been broken in the
descent) in their old location, suspending them
this time by string and wire twisted together,
defiant of any sharp instrument which his per-
secutors could command. But, like the Kussian
engineers at Sebastopol, East and his chum had
an answer fv:>r every move of the adversary;
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 63
and tlie next day had mounted a gun in the
shape of a pea-shooter upon the ledge of their
window, trained so as to bear exactly upon the
spot which Martin had to occupy while tending
his nurselings. The moment he began to feed
they began to shoot; in vain did the enemy
himself invest in a pea-shooter, and endeavour
to answer the fire while he fed the young birds
with his other hand ; his attention was divided,
and his shots flew wild, while every one of theirs
told on his face and hands, and drove him into
howlings and imprecations. He had been driven
to ensconce the nest in a corner of his already
too well-filled den.
His door was barricaded by a set of ingenious
bolts of his own invention, for the sieges were
frequent by the neighbours when any unusually
ambrosial odour spread itself from the den to
the neighbouring studies. The door panels were
in a normal state of smash, but the frame of the
door resisted all besiegers, and behind it, the
owner carried on his varied pursuits; much in
the same state of mind, I should fancy, as a
border-farmer lived in, in the days of old moss-
troopers, when his hold might be summoned or
his cattle carried off at any minute of night or day.
64 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
"Open, Martin, old boy โ it's only I, Tom
"Oh, very well, stop a moment." One bolt
went back. "You're sure East isn't tbere?"
"JSTo, no, bang it, open." Tom gave a kick,
the other bolt creaked, and he entered the den.
Den indeed it was, about five feet six inches
long by five wide, and seven feet high. About
six tattered school-books, and a few chemical
books. Taxidermy, Stanley on Birds, and an odd
volume of Bewick, the latter in much better
preservation, occupied the top shelves. The
other shelves, where they had not been cut away
and used by the owner for other purposes, were
fitted up for the abiding places of birds, beasts,
and reptiles. There was no attempt at carpet or
curtain. The table was entirely occupied by the
great work of Martin, the electric machine, which
was covered carefully with the remains of his
table-cloth. The jackdaw cage occupied one wall,
and the other was adorned by a small hatchet, a
pair of climbing irons, and his tin candle-box, in
which, he was for the time being, endeavoring to
raise a hopeful young family of field-mice. As
nothing should be let to lie useless, it was well
that the candle-box was thus occupied, for can-
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 65
dies Martin never had. A pound was issued to
him weekly, as to the other boys, but as candles
were available capital, and easily exchangeable
for birds'-eggs or young birds, Martin's pound
invariably found its way in a few hours to How-
lett's, the bird-fancier's in the Bilton road, who
would give a hawk's or nightingale's egg, or
young linnet, in exchange. Martin's ingenuity
was therefore forever on the rack to supply him-
self with a light ; just now he had hit upon a
grand invention, and the den was lighted by a
flaring cotton- wick issuing from a ginger-beer
bottle full of some doleful composition. When
light altogether failed him, Martin would loaf
about by the fires in the passages or hall, after
the manner of Biggs, and try to do his verses or
learn his lines by the fire-light.
" Well, old boy, you haven't got any sweeter
in the den this half. How that stuff in the bot-
tle smells. Never mind, I ain't going to stop,
but you come up after prayers to our study ; you
know young Arthur ; we've got Gray's study.
We'll have a good supper and talk ^-bout bird's-
Martin was evidently highly pleased at the
invitation, and promised to be up without fail.
66 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
As soon as prayers were over, and tlie sixth
and fiftli-form boys had withdrawn to the aristo-
cratic seclusion of their own room, and the rest,
or democracy, had sat down to their supper in
the hall ; Tom and Arthur, having secured their
allowances of bread and cheese, started on their
feet to catch the eye of the pra^poster of the week,
who remained in charge during supper, walking
up and down the hall. He happened to be an
easy-going fellow, so they got a pleasant nod to
their "Please may I go out?" and away they
scrambled to prepare for Martin a sumptuous
banquet. This, Tom had insisted on, for he was
in great delight on the occasion ; the reason of
which delight must be expounded. The fact
was, that this was the first attempt at a friendship
of his own which Arthur had made, and Tom
hailed it as grand step. The ease with which
he himself became hail-fellow-well-met with any
body, and blundered into and out of twenty
friendships a half-year, made him sometimes sor-
ry and sometimes angry at Arthur's reserve
and loneliness. True, Arthur was always plea-
sant, and even jolly, with any boys who came
with Tom to their study ; but Tom felt that it
was only through him, as it were, that his chum
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 6T
associated with otliers, and that but for him Ar-
thur would have been dwelling in a wilderness.
This increased his consciousness of responsibil-
ity ; and though he hadn't reasoned it out and
made it clear to himself; yet somehow he knew
that this responsibility, this trust which he had
taken on him without thinking about it, head-
over-heels in fact, was the centre and turning-
point of his school-life, that which was to make
him or mar him ; his appointed work and trial
for the time being. And Tom was becoming a
new boy, though Avith frequent tumbles in the
dirt and perpetual hard battle with himself, and
was daily growing in manfulness, and thought-
fulness, as every high-couraged and well-princi-
pled boy must, when he finds himself for the
first time consciously at grips with self and the
devil. Already he could turn almost without a
sigh from the school gates, from which had just
scampered off East and three or four others of
his own particular set, bound for some jolly lark
not quite according to law, and involving prob-
ably a row with louts, keepers, or farm-labourers,
the skipping dinner or calling-over, some of
Phoebe Jennings's beer, and a very possible flog-
ging at the end of all as a relish. He had quite got
BROWN AND ARTHUR,
over the stage in wliicli lie would grumble to
himself, " Well, hang it, it's very hard of the
Doctor to have saddled me with Arthur. Why
couldn't he have chummed him with Fogey, or
Thomkin, or any of the fellows who never do
anything but walk round the close, and finish
their copies the first day they're set ? But al-
though all this was past, he often longed, and
felt that he was right in longing, for more time
for the legitimate pastimes of cricket, fives,
bathing, and fishing within bounds, in which
Arthur could not yet be his companion; and
he felt that when the young'un (as he now gen-
erally called him) had found a pursuit and some
other friend for himself, he should be able to
give more time to the education of his own body
with a clear conscience. h
And now what he so wished for had come
to pass ; he almost hailed it as a special provi-
dence, (as indeed it was, but not for the reasons
he gave for it โ what providences are ?) that
Arthur should have singled out Martin of all
fellows, for a friend. ''The old madman is the
very fellow," thought he; "he will take him
scrambling over half the country after birds*
eggs and flowers, make him run and swim and
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 69
climb like an Indian, and not teach him a word
of any thing bad, or keep him from his lessons.
What luck I" And so, with more than his
usual heartiness, he dived into his cupboard,
and hauled out an old knuckle-bone of ham,
and two or three bottles of beer, together with
the solemn pewter, only used on state occasions ;
while Arthur, equally elated at the easy accom-
plishments of his first act of violation in the
joint establishment, produced from his side a
bottle of pickles, and a pot of jam, and cleared
the table. In a minute or two the noise of the
boys coming up from supper was heard, and
Martin knocked and was admitted, bearing his
bread and cheese, and the three fell to with
hearty go'od will upon the viands, talking faster
than they eat, for all shyness disappeared in a
moment before Tom's bottled-beer and hospitable
ways. " Here's Arthur, a regular young town-
mouse, with a natural taste for the woods, Mar-
tin, longing to break his neck climbing trees, and
with a passion for young snakes."
" Well I say," sputtered out Martin eagerly,
''will you come to-morrow, both of you, to
Caldecott's Spinney then, for I know of a kes-
trel's nest, up a fir tree โ I can't get at it without
10 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
help ; and, Brown, you can climb against any
" yes, do let ns go," said Arthur ; I never
saw a hawk's nest or a hawk's egg^
"You just come down to my study then, and
I'll show you five sorts," said Martin.
" Aye, the Old madman has got the best collec-
tion in the house, out-and-out," said Tom ; and
then Martin, warming with unaccustomed good
cheer and the chance of a convert, launched
out into a proposed birds'-nesting campaign, be-
traying all manner of important secrets ; a gol-
den-crested wren's nest near Butlin's Mound, a
moor-hen who was sitting on fourteen eggs in a
pond down the Barbyroad, and a kingfisher's
nest in a corner of the old canal abova Browns-
over Mill. He had heard, he said, that no one
had ever got a kingfisher's nest out perfect, and
that the Brtish Museum, or the Government, or
somebody, had offered ยฃ100 to any one who
could bring them a nest and eggs not damaged.
In the middle of which astounding announce-
ment, to which the others were listening with
open ears, and already considering the applica-
tion of the ยฃ100, a knock came to the door, and
East's voice was heard craving admittance.
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 71
''There's Harry," said Tom, " we'll let him in โ
I'll keep him steady, Martin. I thought the old
boy would smell out the supper.
The fact was, that Tom's heart tad already
smitten him, for not asking his ' fidus Achates '
to the feast, although only an extempore affair;
and though prudence and the desire to get Mar-
tin and Arthur together alone at first, had over-
come his scruples, he was now heartily glad to
open the door, broach another bottle of beer,
and hand over the old ham-knuckle to the search-
ing of his old friend's pocketknife.
'' Ah, you greedy vagabonds," said East, with
his mouth full, " I knew there was something
going on, when I saw you cut off out of the
hall so quick with your suppers. What a stun-
ning tap, Tom ! you are a wunner for bottling
" I've had practice enough for the sixth in my
time, and it's hard if I haven^t picked up a
wrinkle or two for my own benefit."
. " Well old madman, and how goes the birds'-
nesting campaign? How's Howlet. I expect
the young rooks'll be out in another fortnight,
and then my turn comes."
''There'll be no young rooks fit for pies for a
12 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
month yet ; shows how much you know about
it," rejoined Martin, who, though very good
friends with East, regarded him with considera-
ble suspicicfh for his propensity in practical
" Scud knows nothing and cares for nothing
but grub and mischief," said Tom ; *' but young
rook pie, 'specially when you've had to climb
for them, is very pretty eating. However, I say.
Scud, we're all going after a hawk's nest to-
morrow, in Caldecott's Spinney, and if you'll
come and behave yourself, we'll have a stunning
" And a bathe in Aganippe, Hooray ! I'm
No, no ; no bathing in Aganippe ; that's where
our betters go."
"Well, well, never mind. I'm for the kawk's
nest and anything that turns up."
And the bottled-beer being finished, and his
hunger appeased, East departed to his study,
'Hhat sneak Jones," as he informed them, who
had just got into the sixth and occupied the
next study, having instituted a nightly visitation
upon East and his chum, to their no small dis-
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 73
When he was gone, Martin rose to follow, but
Tom stopped him. "No one goes near New
Eow," said he, "so you may just as well stop here
and do your verses, and then we'll have some
more talk. We'll be no end quiet; besides no
priTeposter comes here now โ we haven't been
visited once this half."
So the table was cleared, the cloth restored,
and the three fell to work with Gradus and dic-
tionary upon the morning's vulgus.
They were three very fair examples of the
way in which such tasks were done at Rugby,
in the consulship of Plancus. And doubtless
the method is little changed, for there is nothing
new under the sun, especially at schools.
Now be it known unto all you boys who are at
schools which do not rejoice in the time-honoured
institution of the vulgus, (commonly supposed
to have been established by William of Wyke-
ham at Winchester, and imported to Rugby by
Arnold, more for the sake of the lines which were
learnt by heart with it, than for its intrinsic value,
as I've always understood,) that it is a short ex-
ercise, in Greek or Latin verse, on a given sub-
ject, the minimum number of lines being fixed
for each form. The master of the form gave out
*li BROWN AND ARTHUR.
at fourth lesson on the previous day the subject
for next morning's vulgus, and at first lesson
each boy had to bring his vulgus ready to be
looked over ; and with the vulgus, a certain
number of lines from one of the Latin or Greek
poets, then being construed in the form, had to
be got by heart. The master at first lesson,
called up each boy in the form in order, and put
him on in the lines. If he couldn't say them,
or seem to say them, by reading them off the
master's or some other boy's book who stood
near, he was sent back, and went below all the
boys who did so say or seem to say them ; but
m either case his vulgus was looked over by the
master, who gave and entered in his book, to the
credit or discredit o^ the boy, so many marks
as the composition merited. At Eugby, vulgus
and lines were the first lesson every other day
in the week, on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sat-
urdays; and as there were thirty-eight weeks
in the school year, it is obvious to the meanest
capacity that the master of each form had to set
one hundred and fourteen subjects every year,
two hundred and twenty-eight every two years,
and so on. Now to persons of moderate inven-
tion this was a considerable task, and human
BROWN AND ARTHUR. t5
nature being prone to repeat itself, it will not
be wondered that the masters gave the same ,
subjects sometimes over again after a certain
lapse of time. To meet and rebuke this bad
habit of the masters, the school-boy mind, with
its accustomed ingenuity, had invented an elab-
orate system of tradition. Almost every boy
kept his own vnlgus written out in a book, and
these books were duly handed down from boy
to boy, till (if the tradition has gone on till
now) I suppose the popular boys, in whose
hands bequeathed vulgus-books have accumula-
ted, are prepared with three or four vulguses
on any subject in heaven or earth, or in "more
worlds than one, " which an unfortunate master
can pitch upon. At any rate, such lucky fellows
generally had one for themselves and one for a
friend in my time. The only objection to the
traditionary method of doing your vulgus was,
the risk that the successions might have become
confused, and so that you and another follower
of tradition should show up the same identical
vulsrus some fine morninsr, in which case, when
it happened, considerable grief was the result โ
but when did such risks hinder boys or men
from short cuts and pleasant paths?
BROWN AND ARTHUR.
Now in the study that night, Tom was the up-
holder of the traditionary method of vulgus
doing. He carefully produced two large vulgus-
books, and began diving into them, and picking
out a line here, and an ending there (tags as
they were vulgarly called,) till he had gotten
all that he thought he could make fit. He then
proceeded to patch his tags together with the
help of his Gradus, producing an incongruous
and feeble result of eight elegiac lines, the
minimum quantity for his form, and finishing
up with two highly moral lines extra, making
ten in all, which he cribbed entire from one of his
books, beginning "O genus humanum," and
which he himself must have used a dozen times
before, whenever an unfortunate or wicked hero,
of whatever nation or language under the sun,
w^as the subject. Indeed he began to have great
doubts whether the master wouldn't remember
them, and so only threw them in as extra lines,
because in any case they would call off' attention
from the other tags, and if detected, being extra
lines, he wouldn't be sent back to do two more
in their place, while if they passed muster again
he would get marks for them.
The second method, pursued by Martin, may
BllOWN AND ARTHUR. Yt
be called the dogged, or prosaic method. He,
no more than Tom, took any pleasure in the
task, but having no old vulgus-books of his own
or any one's else, could not follow the tradition-
ary method, for which, too, as Tom remarked,
he hadn't the genius. Martin then proceeded
to write down eight lines in English, of the most
matter-of-fact kind, the first that came into his
head ; and to convert these, line by line, by main
force of Gradus and dictionary, into Latin that
would scan. This was all he cared for, to pro-
duce eight lines with no false quantities or con-
cords: whether the words were apt, or what the
sense was, mattered nothing; and, as the article
was all new, not a line beyond the minimum did
the followers of the dogged method ever produce.
The third, or artistic method, was Arthur's.
He considered first what point in the character
or event which was the subject could most neatly
be brought out within the limits of a vulgus,
trying always to get his idea into the eight lines,
but not binding himself to ten or even twelve
lines if he couldn't do this. He then set to
work, as much as possible without Gradus or
other help, to clothe his idea in appropriate
Latin or Greek, and would not be satisfied till
Y8 BROWN AM) ARTHUR.
he had polished it well up Avith the aptest and
most poetic words and phrases he could get at.
A fourth method indeed was in use in the
school, but of too simple a kind to require de-
scription. It may be called the vicarious method,
obtained amongst big boys of lazy or bully-
ing habits, and consisted simply in making
clever boys whom they could thrash, do their
whole vulgus for them, and construe it to them
afterwards; which latter is a method not to be
encouraged, and which I strongly advise you
all not to practice. Of the others you will find
the traditionary most troublesome, unless you
can steal your vulguses whole (experto crede)
and that the artistic method pays the best, both
in marks and other ways.
The vulguses being finished by nine o'clock,
and Martin having rejoiced above measure in
the abundance of light, and of Gradus and dic-
tionary, and other conveniences almost unknown
to him for getting through the work, and having
been pressed by Arthur to come and do his verses
there whenever he liked, the three boys went
down to Martin's den, and Arthur was initiated
into the lore of birds' eggs to his great delight.
The exquisite colouring and forms astonished
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 19
and cliarmed him who had scarcely ever seen
any but a hen's egg or an ostrich's, and by the
time he was lugged away to bed he had learned
the names of at least twenty sorts, and dreamt
of the glorious perils of tree-climbing, and that
he had found a roc's egg in the island as big as
Sinbad's, and clouded like a tit-lark's in blowing
which, Martin and he had nearly been drowned
in the yolk.
FEVER IN THE SCHOOL.
'This our hope for all that's mortal,
And we too shall burst the bond ;
Death keeps watch beside the portal,
But 'tis life that dwells beyond."
Two years have passed since the events re-
corded in the last chapter, and the end of the
summer half-year is again drawing on. Martin
has left and gone on a cruise in the South Paci-
fic; in one of his uncle's ships ; the old magpie,
as disreputable as ever, his last bequest to Ar-
thur, lives in the joint study. Arthur is nearly
sixteen, and at the head of the twenty, having
gone up the school at the rate of a form a half-
year. East and Tom have been much more de-
liberate in their progress, and are only a little
way up the fifth form. Great strapping boys
they are, but still thorough boys, filling about
the same place in the house that young Brooke
filled when they were new boys, and much the
same sort of fellows. Constant intercourse with
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 81
Arthur has done much for both of them, espe-
cially for Tom ; but much remains yet to be done,
if they are to get all the good out of Rugby
which is to be got there in these times. Arthur
is still frail and delicate, with more spirit than
body; but thanks to his intimacy with Tom and
Martin, has learned to swim, and run, and play
cricket, and has never hurt himself by too much
One evening as they were all sitting down to
supper in the fifth-form room, some one started
a report that a fever had broken out at one of
the boarding-houses; "they say," he added, "that
Thompson is very ill, and that Dr. Robertson
has been sent for from Northampton."
"Then we shall all be sent home," cried an-
other. "Hurrah! five weeks' extra holidays,
and no fifth-form examination !"
"I hope not," said Tom; "there'll be no
Marylebone match then at the end of the half."
Some thought one thing, some another, many
didn't believe the report; but the next day,
Tuesday, Dr. Robertson arrived, and stayed all
day, and had long conferences with the Doctor.
On "Wednesday morning, after prayers, the
Doctor addressed the whole school. There were
82 BROWN AND ARTHUE.
several cases of fever in different houses, lie said,
but Dr. Eobertson after the most careful exami-
nation had assured him that it was not infectious,
and that if proper care were taken there could
be no reason for stopping the school work at
present. The examinations were just coming
on, and it would be very unadvisable to break
up now. However, any boys who chose to do
so were at liberty to write home, and, if their
parents wished it, to leave at once. He should
send the whole school home if the fever spread.
The next day Arthur sickened, but there was
no other case. Before the end of the week
thirty or forty boys had gone, but the rest stayed
on. There was a general wish to please the
Doctor, and a feeling that it was cowardly to
On the Saturday Thompson died, in the bright
afternoon, while the cricket-match was going on
as usual on the big-side ground; the Doctor,
coming from his death-bed, passed along the
gravel-walk at the side of the close, but no one
knew what had happened till the next day.
At morning lecture it began to be rumored, and
by afternoon chapel was known generally ; and
a feeling of seriousness and awe at the actual
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 83
presence of death among them, came over the
whole school. In all the long years of his min-
istry the Doctor perhaps never spoke words
which sank deeper than some of those in that
day's sermon. " When I came yesterday from
visiting all but the very death-bed of him who
has been taken from us, and looked around upon
all the familiar objects and scenes within our
own ground, where your common amusements
were going on, with your common cheerfulness
and activity, I felt there was nothing painful in
witnessing that ; it did not seem in any way shock-
ing or out of tune with those feelings which the
sight of a dying Christian must be supposed to
awaken. The unsuitableness in point of natural
feeling between scenes of mourning and scenes of
liveliness did not at all present itself. But I did
feel that if at that moment any of those faults had
been brought before me which sometimes occur
amongst us ; had I heard that any of you had
been guilty of falsehood, or of drunkenness, or
of any other such sin ; had I heard from any
quarter the language^of profaneness, or of un-
kindness, or of indecency ; had I heard or seen
any signs of that wretched folly, which courts
the laugh of fools by affecting not to dread evil
S4 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
and not to care for good, then the unsuitableness
of any of these things with the scene I had just
quitted would indeed have been most intensely-
painful. And why ? Not because such things
would really have been worse than at any other
time, but because at such a moment the eyes are
opened really to know good and evil, because
we then feel what it is so to live as that death
becomes an infinite blessing, and what it is so to
live also, that it were good for us if we had
never been born.
Tom had gone into the chapel in sickening
anxiety about Arthur, but he came out cheered
and strengthened by those grand words, and
walked up alone to their study. And when he sat
down and looked round, and saw Arthur's straw-
hat and cricket-jacket hanging on their pegs, and
marked all his little neat arrangements, not one
of which had been disturbed, the tears indeed
rolled down his cheeks, but they were calm and
blessed tears, and he repeated to himself, ''Yes,
Geordie's eyes are opened โ he knows what it is
so to live as that death becomes an infinite bless-
ing. But do I ? Oh God, can I bear to lose
The week passed mournfully away. No more
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 85
boys sickened, but Arthur was reported worse
each day, and his mother arrived early in the
week. Tom made many appeals to be allowed to
see him, and several times tried to get up to the
sick-room ; but the housekeeper was always in
the way, and at last spoke to the Doctor, who
kindly, but peremptorily forbade him.
FROM STANLEY'S LIFE OF ARNOLD.
It was after a season of sickness of this kind, that Dr.
Arnold returning one morning from the death-bed of one
of the boys, was much troubled to find that the change
in his feelings from attendance on this bed of sickness
and death had been very great ; he thought there ought
not to be such a contrast, and, that it was probably owing
to the school work not being sufficiently sanctified to
God's glory โ that if, it were in truth a religion work, the
transition to it from a death-bed would be slight ; he there-
fore intended for the future to offer an especial prayer be-
fore the first lesson, that the day's work might be under-
taken and carried on, solely to the glory of God and their
The subjoined is the prayer, used ever after,
until the mournful day of Dr. Arnold's death : โ
O Lord, who by Thy Holy Apostle has taught us to do
all things in the name of the Lord Jesus, and to Thy
glory, give Thy blessing, we pray Thee to this our daily
work, that we may do it in faith and heartily, as to the
Lord, and not unto men. All our powers of body and
mind are thine, and we would fain devote them to Thy
service. Sanctify them and the work in which they are
86 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
engaged ; let us not be slothful, but fervent in spirit ; and
do thou, O Lord, so bless our efforts, that they may
bring forth in us the fruits of true wisdom.
Strengthen the faculties of our minds, and dispose us to
exert them ; but, let us always remember to exert them
for Thy glory, and save us from all pride or vanity, or
reliance upon our own powers or wisdom. Teach us to
seek after truth, and enable us to gain it ; but grant that
we may ever speak the truth in love ; that, while we know
earthly things, we may know Thee, and be known by
Thee, in and through Thy Son Jesus Christ. Give us this
day Thy Holy Spirit, that we may be thine in body and
in spirit, in all our work and in all our refreshments,
through Jesus Christ, Thy Son, Our Lord. Amen.
Thompson was buried on the Tuesday, and
the burial service; so soothing and grand always,
but beyond all words solemn when read over a
boy's grave to his companions, brought Tom
much comfort, and many strange new thoughts
and longings. He went back to his regular
life, and played cricket and bathed as usual:
it seemed to him that this was the right thing
to do, and the new thoughts and longings be-
came more brave and healthy for the effort.
The crisis came on Saturday, the day week that
Thompson had died ; and during that long af-
ternoon Tom sat in his study reading his Bible,
and going every half-hour to the housekeeper's
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 87
room; expecting each time to hear that the gen-
tle and brave little spirit had gone home. But
God had work for Arthur to do; the crisis
passed โ on Sunday evening he was declared
out of danger; on Monday he sent a message to
Tom that he was almost well, had changed his
room, and was to be allowed to see him the
It was evening when the housekeeper sum-
moned him to the sick-room. Arthur was lying
on the sofa by the open window, through which
the rays of the western sun stole gently, light-
ing up his white face and golden hair. Tom
remembered a German picture of an angel which
he knew ; often had he thought how transparent
and golden and spirit-like it was ; and he shud-
dered to think how like it Arthur looked, and
felt a shock as if his blood had all stopped short,
as he realized how near the other world his
friend must have been to look like that. Never
till that moment had he felt how his little chum
had twined himself round his heart-strings ; and
as he stole gently across the room, and knelt
down, and put his arm round Arthur's head on
the pillow, felt ashamed and half angry at his
own red and brown face, and the bounding
88 BROWN AND AQTHUR.
sense of health and power which filled every
fibre of his body, and made every moment of
mere living, a joy to him. He needn't have
troubled himself, it was this very strength and
power so different from his own which drew
Arthur so to him.
Arthur laid his thin white hand, on which
the blue veins stood out so plainly, on Tom's
great brown fist, and smiled at him ; and then
looked out of the window again, as if he couldn't
bear to lose a moment of the sunset, into the'
tops of the great feathery elms, round which the
rooks were circling and clanging, returned in
flocks from their evening's foraging parties.
The elms rustled, the sparrows in the ivy just
outside the window chirped and fluttered about,
quarrelling and making it up again ; the rooks,
young and old, talked in chorus, and the merry
shouts of the boys, and the sweet click of the
cricket-bats, came up cheerily from below.
"Dear George," said Tom, " I am so glad to
be let up to see you at last. I've tried hard to
come so often, but they wouldn't let me before."
" Oh, I know, Tom ; Mary has told me every
day about you, and how she was obliged to
make the Doctor speak to you to keep you away.
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 89
I'm very glad you didn't get up, for you might
have caught it, and you couldn't stand being ill
with all the matches going on. And you're in
the eleven, too, I hear โ I'm so glad."
"Yes, ain't it jolly?" said Tom, proudly;
I'm ninth too. I made forty at the last pie-
match, and caught three fellows out. So I was
put in above Jones and Tucker. Tucker's so
savage, for he was head of the twenty -two.
" Well, I think you ought to be higher yet,"
said Arthur, who was as jealous for the renown
of Tom in games, as Tom was for his as a
"Never mind, I don't care about cricket or
any thing now you are getting well, Geordie ;
and I shouldn't have been hurt, I know, if they'd
have let me come up, โ nothing hurts me. But
you'll get about now directly, won't you? You
won't believe how clean I've kept the study.
All your things are just as you left them; and I
feed the old magpie just when you used, though
I have to come in from big-side for him, the old
rip. He won't look pleased, all I can do, and
sticks his head first on one side and then on the
other, and blinks at me before he'll begin to eat,
till I'm half inclined to box his ears. And
90 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
whenever East comes in, you should see him
hop off to the window, dot and go one, though
Harry wouldn't touch a feather of him now."
Arthur laughed. " Old Gravey has a good
memory, he can't forget the sieges of poor Mar-
tin's den in old times. He paused a moment
and then went on. " You can't think how often
I've been thinking of old Martin since I've been
ill ; I suppose one's mind gets restless, and likes
to wander off to strange unknown places. I
wonder what queer new pets the old boy has
got ; how he must be revelling in the thousand
new birds, beasts, and fishes." Tom felt a pang
of jealousy, but kicked it out in a moment.
"Fancy him on a South-sea island, with the
Cherokees or Patagonians, or some such wild
niggers ;" (Tom's ethnology and geography were
faulty, but sufficient for his needs;) ''they'll
make the old madman cock medicine-man, and
tattoo him all over. Perhaps he's cutting about
now all blue, and has a squaw and a wigwam.
He'll improve their boomarangs, and be able
to throw them too, without having old Thomas
sent after him by the Doctor to take them away."
Arthur laughed at the remembrance of the
boomarang story, but then looked grave again,
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 91
and said, " He'll convert all the Island, I know."
" Yes if he don't blow it up first."
" Do you remember, Tom, how you and East
used to laugh at him and chaff him, because he
said he was sure the rooks all had calling-over,
or prayers, or something of the sort, when the
locking-up bell rang. Well, I declare," said
Arthur, looking up seriously into Tom's laugh-
ing eyes, '' I do think he was right. Since I've
been lying here I've watched them every night ;
and do you know they really do come and perch
all of them just about locking-up time; and then
first there's a regular chorus of caws, and then
they stop a bit, and one old fellow, or perhaps two
or three in different trees, caw solos, and then off
they all go again, fluttering about and cawing
any how till they roost."
"I wonder if the old blackies do talk?" said
Tom, looking up at them. "How they must
abuse me and East, and pray for the Doctor for
stopping the slinging."
''There! Iqok! look!" cried Arthur, ''don't
you see the old fellow without a tail coming up ?
Martin used to call him 'the clerk.' He can't
steer himself. You never saw such" fun as he is
in a high wind, when he can't steer himself
92 BROWN AND ARTHUR,
home, and gets carried right past the trees, and
has to bear up again and again before he can
The locking-np bell began to toll, and the
two boys were silent and listened to it. The
sound soon carried Tom off to the river and the
woods, and he began to go over in his mind the
many occasions on which he had heard that
toll coming faintly down the breeze, and had to
pack up his rod in a hurry and make a run for
it, to get in before the gates were shut. He was
roused with a start from his memories by
Arthur's voice, gentle and weak from his late
" Tom, will you be angry if I talk to you
very seriously ?"
'^No, dear old boy, not I. But ain't you
faint, Arthur, or ill? What can I get for you?
Don't say anything to hurt yourself now, you
are very weak ; let me come up again ?"
"NO; no, I shan't hurt myself; I'd sooner
speak to you now, if you don't mind. I've
asked Mary to tell the Doctor that you are with
me, so you needn't go down to calling-over ; and
I mayn't have another chance, for I shall most
likely have to go home for change of air to get
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 93
well, and mayn't come back tliis half." ^
" Oh, do you think you must go away before
the end of the half? I'm so sorry. It's more
than five weeks yet to the holidays, and all the
fifth-form examination and half the cricket
matches to come yet. And what shall I do all
that time alone in our study ? Why, Arthur,
it will be more than twelve weeks before I see
you again. Oh, hang it, I can't stand that.
Besides who's to keep me up to working at
the examination books ? I shall come out bot-
tom of the form, as sure as eggs is eggs.'
Tom was rattling on, half in joke, half in
earnest, for he wanted to get Arthur out of his
serious vein, thinking it would do him harm
but Arthur broke in โ '
" Oh, please Tom, stop, or you'll drive all I
had to say out of my head. And I'm already
horribly afraid I'm going to make you angry.''
"Don't gammon, young'un," rejoined Tom,
(the use of the old name, dear to him from old
recollections, made Arthur start and smile, and
feel quite happy;) "you know you ain't afraid
and you've never made me angry since the
first month we chummed together. Now I'm
going to be quite sober for a quarter of an hour.
94 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
whicli is more tlian I am once in a year, so
make the most of it; heave ahead, and pitch
into me right and left."
Dear Tom, I ain t going to pitch into you,"
said Arthur piteously ; " and it seems so cocky
in me to be advising you, who've been my back-
bone ever since I've been at Kugby, and have
made the school a paradise to me. Ah, I see I
shall never do it, unless I go head-over-heels at
once, as you said when you taught me to swim.
Tom, I want you to give up using vulgus-books
Arthur sank back on to his pillow with a
sigh, as if the efifort had been great ; but the
worst was now over, and he looked straight at
Tom, who was evidently taken aback. He
leant his elbows on his knees and stuck his
hands into his hair, whistled a verse of Billy
Taylor, and then was quite silent for another
minute. Not a shade crossed his face, but he
was clearly puzzled. At last he looked up and
caught Arthur's anxious look, took his hand,
and said simply โ
" Why, young'un ?"
"Because you're the honcstest boy in Rugby,
and that ain't honest."
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 95
"I don't see that."
What were you sent to Eugby for?"
"Well; I don't know exactly โ nobody ever
told me. I suppose because all boys are sent to
a public school in England."
" But what do you think yourself? What do
you want to do here and to carry away?"
Tom thought a minute. "I want to be A 1
at cricket and football, and all the other games,
and to make my hands keep my head against
any fellow, lout or gentleman. I want to get
into the sixth before I leave, and please the
Doctor ; and I want to carry away just as much
Latin and Greek as will take me through Ox-
ford respectably. There now, young'un, I never
thought of it before, but that's pretty much my
figure. Ain't it all on the square? What have
you got to say to that ?"
"Why, that you're pretty sure to do all that
you want then."
"Well, I hope so. But you've forgot one
thing, that I want to leave behind me. I want
to leave behind me," said Tom, speaking slow
and looking much moved, "the name of a fellow
who never bullied a little boy, or turned his
back on a big one."
96 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
Arthur pressed his haud, and after a moment's
silence went on: ''You say, Tom, you want to
please the Doctor. Now do you want to please
him by what he thinks you do, or by what you
"By what I really do, of course."
"Does he think you use cribs and vulgus-
Tom felt at once that his flank was turned,
but he couldn't give in. "He was at Winchester
himself, said he, " he knows all about it'.'
" Yes, but does he think you use them ? Do
you think he approves of it?"
''You young villain," said Tom, shaking his
fist at Arthur half vexed and halt pleased, "I
never think about it. Hang it โ there, perhaps
he don't. Well, I suppose he don't."
Arthur saw that he had got his point; he
knew his friend well, and was wise in silence as
in speech. He only said, "I would sooner have
the Doctor's good opinion of me as I really am,
than any man's in the world."
After another minute Tom besran ae^ain:
"Look here, young'un, how on earth am I to
get time to play the matches this half, if I give
up cribs? We're in the middle of that long
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 91
crabbed choras in the Agamemnon, I can only
just make bead or tail of it with the crib. Then
there's Pericles' speech coming on in Thucydides,
and the 'Birds' to get up for the examination, be-
sides the Tacitus. Tom groaned at the thought
of his accumulated labours. '' I say, young'un,
there's only five weeks or so left to holidays,
mayn't I go on as usual for this half? I'll tell the
Doctor about it some day, or you may."
Arthur looked out of the window ; the twi-
light had come on and all was silent. He re-
peated in a low voice, ''In this thing the Lord,
pardon thy servant, that when my master goeth
into the house of Rimmon to worship there, and
he leaneth on my hand, and I bow down myself
in the house of Rimmon, the Lord pardon thy
servant in this thing."
Not a word more was said on the subject, and
the boys were again silent. One of those blessed
short silences, in which the resolves which colour
a life are so often taken.
Tom was the first to break it. " You've been
very ill indeed, haven't you, Geordie ?" said he
with a mixture of awe and curiosity, feeling as
if his friend had been in some strange place or
scene, of which he could form no idea, and full
98 BROWN AND ARTIIL'R.
of tlie memory of his own thoughts during the
" Yes, ver}^ I'm sure the Dcxjtor thought I
was going to die. He gave me the Sacrament
last Sunday, and you can't think what he is when
one is ill. He said such brave, and tender, and
gentle things to me, I felt quite light and strong
after it, and never had any more fear. My
mother brought our old medical man, who at-
tended me when I was a poor sickly child ; he
said my constitution was quite changed, and
that ' I'm fit for anything now. If it hadn't, I
couldn't have stood three days of this illness.
That's all thanks to you, and the games you've
made me fond of"
" More thanks to old Martin," said Tom ; " he's
been your real friend."
"ISTonsense, Tom, he never could have done
for me what you have."
"Well, I don't know, I did little enough. Did
they tell you โ you won't mind hea,ring it now,
I know โ that poor Thompson died last week ?
The other three boys are getting quite round,
" Oh, yes, I heard of it."
Then Tom, who was quite full of it, told
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 99
Arthur of tiie burial service in the chapel, and
how it had impressed him, and, he believed, all
the other boys. " And though the Doctor never
said a word about it," said he, " and it was a
half-holiday and match day, there wasn't a game
played in the close all the afternoon, and the
boys all went about as if it were Sunday."
"I'm very glad of it," said Arthur. "But,
Tom, I've had such strange thoughts about death
lately. I've never told a soul of them, not even
my mother. Sometimes I think they're wrong, but,
do you know, I don't think in my heart I could
be very sorry at the death of any of my friends."
Tom was taken quite aback. "What in the
world is the young'un after now," thought he ;
" I've swallowed a good many of his crotchets, but
this altogether beats me. He can't be quite right
in his head." He didn't want to say a word, and
shifted about uneasily in the dark; however,
Arthur seemed to be waiting for an answer, so
at last he said, "I don't think I quite see what
you mean, Greordie. One's told so often to think
about death, that I've tried it on sometimes, es-
pecially this last week. But we won't talk of it
now. I'd better go โ you're getting tired, and I
shall do you harm."
100 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
" No, no, indeed I ain't, Tom ; you must stop
till nine, there's only twenty minutes. I've set-
tled you shall stop till nine. And oh ! do let
me talk to you โ I must talk to you. I see it's
just as I feared. You think I'm half mad โ don't
you now ?"
"Well, I did think it odd what you said,
Geordie, as you ask me."
Arthur paused a moment, and then said
quickly, "I'll tell you how it all happened. At
first, when I was sent to the sick-room and found
I had really got the fever, I was terribly fright-
ened. I thought I should die, and I could not
face it for a moment. I don't think it was sheer
cowardice at first, but I thought how hard it was
to be taken away from my mother and sisters and
you all, just as I was beginning to see my way
to many things, and to feel that I might be a
man and do a man's work. To die without hav-
ing fought, and worked, and given one's life
away, was too hard to bear. I got terribly im-
patient, and accused God of injustice, and strove
to justify myself; and the harder I strove the
deeper I sank. Then the image of my dear
father often came across me, but I turned from
it. Whenever it came, a heavy numbing throb
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 101
seemed to take hold of my heart, and say, dead
โ dead โ dead. And I cried out, 'The living,
the living shall praise Thee God ; the dead can-
not praise Thee. There is no work in the grave;
in the night no man can work. But I can work.
I can do great things. I will do great things.
Why wilt thou slay me?" And so I struggled
and plunged, deeper and deeper, and went down
into a living black tomb. I Avas alone there,
with no power to stir or think; alone with
myself; beyond the reach of all human fel-
lowship ; beyond Christ's reach^ I thought, in
my nightmare. You, who are brave, and bright,
and strong, can have no idea of that agony.
Pray to God you never may. Pray as for your
Arthur stopped โ from exhaustion, Tom
thought ; but what between his fear lest Arthur
should hurt himself, his awe, and longing for
him to go on, he couldn't ask or stir to help
Presently he went on, but quite calm and
slow. '' I don't know how long I was in that
state. For more than a day I know, for I was
quite conscious, and lived my outer life all the
time, and took my medicines, and spoke to my
102 BROWN AND ARTHtFR.
mother, and heard what they said. But I didn't
take much note of time, I thought time was
over for me, and that that tomb was what was
beyond. Well, on last Sunday morning, as I
seemed to lie in that tomb, alone, as I thought,
for ever and ever, the black dead wall was cleft
in two, and I was caught up and borne through
into the light by some great power, some living
mighty spirit. Tom, do you remember the liv-
ing creatures and the wheels in Ezekiel ? It
was just like that : ' when they went I heard
the noise of their wings, like the noise of great
waters, as the voice of the Almighty, the voice
of speech, as the noise of an host ; when they
stood they let down their wings' โ 'and they
went every one straight forward ; whither the
spirit was to go they went, and they turned not
when they went.' And we rushed through the
bright air, which was full of myriads of living
creatures, and paused on the brink of a great
river. And the power held me up, and I knew
that that great river was the grave, and death
dwelt there ; but not the death I had met in the
black tomb, that I felt was gone forever. For on
the other bank of the great river I saw men
and women and children rising up pure and
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 103
bright; and the tears were wiped from their eyes,
and they put on glory and strength, and all
weariness and pain fell away. And beyond
were a multitude which no man conld number,
and they worked at some great work ; and they
who rose from the river went on and joined in
the work. They all worked, and each worked
in a different way, but all at the same work.
And I saw there my father, and the men in the
old town whom I knew when I was a child ;
many a hard stern man, who never came to
church, and whom they called atheist and infi.
del. There they were, side by s-ide with my
father, whom I had seen toil and die for them,
and women and little children, and the seal was
on the foreheads of alL And I longed to see
what the work was, and could not ; so I tried to
plunge in the river, for I thought I would join
them, but I could not. Then I looked about to
see how they got into the river. And this I
could not see, but I saw myriads on this side,
and they too worked, and I knew that it was
the same work ; and the same seal was on their
foreheads. And though I saw that there was
toil and anguish in the work of these, and that
most that were working were blind and feeble,
104 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
yet I longed no more to plunge into tlie river,
but more and more to know what the work was.
And as I looked I saw my mother and mj- sis-
ters, and I saw the Doctor, and you, Tom, and
hundreds more whom I knew ; and at last I saw
myself too, and I was toiling and doing ever so
little a piece of the great work. Then it all
melted away, and the power left me, and as it
left me I thought I heard a voice say, ' The
vision is for an appointed time ; though it tarry,
wait for it, for in the end it shall speak and not
lie, it shall surely come, it shall not tarry.' It
was early morning I know then, it was so quiet
and cool, and my mother was fast asleep in the
chair by my bedside; but it wasn't only a dream
of mine. I know it wasn't a dream. Then I
fell into a deep sleep, and only woke after after-
noon chapel ; and the Doctor came and gave me
the Sacrament, as I told you. I told him and
my mother I should get well โ I knew I should ;
but I couldn't tell them why." "Tom, said
Arthur, gently, after another minute, "do you
see why I could not grieve now to see my dearest
friend die? It can't be โ it isn't all fever or
illness. God would never have let me see it so
clear if it wasn't true. I don't understand it all
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 105
yet โ it will take me my life and longer to do
tliat โ to find out what the work is."
When Arthur stopped, there was a long pause.
Tom could not speak, he was almost afraid to
breathe, lest he should break the train of Arthur's
thoughts. He longed, to hear more, and to ask
questions. In another minute nine o'clock
struck, and a gentle tap at the door called them
both back into the world again. They did not
answer, however, for a moment, and so the door
opened, and a lady came in carrying a candle.
She went straight to the sofa, and took hold
of Arthur's hand, and then stooped down and
"My dearest boy, you feel a little feverish
again. Why didn't you have lights ? You've
talked too much and excited yourself in the dark."
'' Oh no, mother, you can't think how well -I
feel. I shall start with you to-morrow for Devon-
shire. But, mother, here's my friend, here's Tom
Brown โ you know him ?"
" Yes, indeed, I've known him for years," she
said, and held out her hand to Tom, who was
now standing up behind the sofa. This was
Arthur's mother. Tall and slight and fair, with
masses of golden hair drawn back from the
106 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
broad white forehead, and the cahii blue eye
meeting his so deep and open โ the eye that he
knew so well, for it was his friend's over again,
and the lovely tender mouth that trembled while
he looked. She stood there a woman of thirty-
eight, old enough to be his mother, and one
whose face showed the lines which must be
written on the faces of good men's wives and
widows โ but he thought he had never seen any-
thing so beautiful. He couldn't help wondering
if Arthur's sisters were like her.
Tom held her hand, and looked straight in
her face ; he could neither let it go nor speak.
''Now, Tom," said Arthur, laughing, ''where
are your manners ? you'll stare my mother out
of countenance." Tom dropped the little hand
with a sigh. " There, sit down; both of you.
Here, dearest mother, there's room here," and
he made a place on the sofa for her. " Tom,
you needn't go ; I'm sure you won't be called
up at first lesson." Tom felt that he would risk
being floored at every lesson for the rest of his
natural school-life, sooner than go ; so he sat
down. "And now," said Arthur, "I have real-
ized one of the dearest wishes of my life โ to see
you two together."
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 107
And then he led away the talk to their home
in Devonshire, and the red bright earth, and the
deep green combes, and the peat streams like
cairn-gorm pebbles, and the wild moor with its
high cloudy Tors for a giant background to the
picture โ till Tom got jealous, and stood up for
the clear chalk streams, and the emerald water
meadows and great elms and ^villows of the dear
old Royal county, as he gloried to call it. And
the mother sat, quiet and loving, rejoicing in
their life. The quarter-to-ten struck, and the
bell rang for bed, before they had well begun
their talk as it seemed.
Then Tom rose with a sigh to go.
"Shall I see you in the morning, Geordie?"
said he, as he shook his friend's hand. " Never
mind though, you'll be back next half, and I
shan't forget the house of Rimmon."
Arthur's mother got up and walked with him
to the door, and there gave him her hand again,
and again his eyes met that deep loving look,
which was like a spell upon him. Her voice
trembled slightly as she said "Good night โ
you are one who knows lyhat our Father has
promised to the friend of the widow and the
108 ErtOWN AND ARTHUR.
fatherless. May He deal with you as you have
dealt with me and mine !"
Tom was quite upset ; he mumbled, something
about owing every thing good in him to Geordie
โ looked in her face again, pressed her hand to
his lips, and rushed down stairs to his study,
where he sat till old Thomas came kicking at
the door, to tell him his allowance would be
stopped if he didn't go off to bed. (It would
have been stopped anyhow, but that he was a
great favourite with the old gentleman, who loved
to come out in the afternoons into the close to
Tom's wicket, and bowl slow twisters to him,
and talk of the glories of by-gone Surrey heroes,
with whom he had played in former generations.)
So Tom roused himself and took up his candle
to go to bed; and then, for the first time, was
aware of a beautiful new fishing-rod, with old
Eton's mark on it, and a splendidly bound Bible,
which lay on his table, on the title-page of which
was written โ "Tom Brown, from his affection-
ate and grateful friends, Frances Jane Arthur ;
I leave you all to guess how he slept, and what
he dreamt of
HAEEY east's DILEMMAS AND DELIVEKANCES.
"The Holy Supper is kept indeed,
In whatso we share with another's need โ โข
Not that which we give, but that we share,
For the gift without the giver is bare :
Who bestows himself with his alms feeds three.
Himself, his hungering neighbour, and me."
LOWELLโ r/ie Vision of Sir Laun/al, p. 11.
The next morning after breakfast, Tom, East,
and Gower met as nsiial to learn their second
lesson together. Tom had been considering how
to break his proposal of giving up the crib to
the others, and having found no better way (as
indeed none better can ever be found by man or
boy), told them simply what had happened ; how
he had been to see Arthur, who had talked to
him upon the subject, and what he had said, and
for his part he had made up his mind and wasn't
going to use cribs any more. And not being
quite sure of his ground, took the high and
pathetic tone, and was proceeding to say, "how
that having learnt his lessons with them for so
many years, it would grieve him much to put an
end to the arrangement, and he hoped at any
110 BROWN AND ARTIirR.
rate tliat if they wouldn't go on with liim, they
should still be just as good friends, and respect
one another's motives โ but โ "
Here the other boys, who had been listening
with open eyes and ears, burst in โ
"Stuff and nonsense !" cried Gower. ^^Here,
East, get down the crib and find the place."
"Oh, Tommy, Tommy!" said East, proceed-
ing to do as he was bidden, " that it should ever
have come to this. I knew Authur 'd be the
ruin of you some day, and you of me. And now
the time's come" โ and he made a doleful face.
'^I don't know about the ruin," answered
Tom; ''I know that you and I would have had
the sack long ago, if it hadn't been for him.
And you know it as well as I."
" Well, we were in a baddish way before he
came, I own, but this new crotchet of his is past
" Let's give it a trial, Harry ; come โ you know
how often he has been right and we wrong."
"Now don't you two be jawing away about
yoimg Square-toes," struck in Gower. "He's
no end of a sucking wiseacre, I dare say, but
we've no time to lose, and I've got the fives'-
court at half-past nine."
BROWN AND ARTHUR. Ill
"I say, Gower," said Tom, appealingly, "be a
good fellow, and let's try if we can't get on
without tlie crib."
" What ! in this chorus ? Why we shan't get
through ten lines."
" I say, Tom," cried East, having hit on a new
idea, "don't you remember when we were in
' the upper-fourth, and old Momus caught me
construing off the leaf of a crib which I'd torn
out and put in my book, and which would float
out on to the floor ; he sent me up to be flogged
'' Yes, I remember it very well."
"Well, the Doctor, after he'd flogged me,
told me himself that he didn't flog me for using
a translation, but for taking it into lesson, and
using it there, when I hadn't learnt a word be-
fore I came in. He said there was no harm in
using a translation to get a clue to hard passa-
ges, if you'd tried all you could first to make
them out without."
"Did he though?" said Tom: "then Arthur
must be wrong."
" Of course he is," said Grower, " the little prig.
We'll only use the crib when we can't construe
without it. Go ahead, East."
BROWN AND ARTHUR.
And on tliis agreement tliey started. Tom
satisfied with having made his confession, and
not sorry to have a locus poenitentice., and not to
be deprived altogether of the nse of his old and
The boys went on as usual, each taking a
sentence in turn, and the crib being handed to
the one whose turn it was to construe. Of course
Tom couldn't object to this, as, was it not simply
lying there to be appealed to in case the sentence
should prove too hard altogether for the con-
struer ? But it must be owned that Gower and
East did not make very tremendous exertions fo
conquer their sentences before having recourse
to its help. Tom, however, with the most
heroic virtue and gallantry, rushed into his sen-
tence, searching in a high-minded manner for
nominative and verb, and turning over his dic-
tionary frantically for the first hard word which
stopped him. But in the meantime, Gower, who
was bent on getting to fives, would peep quietly
into the crib, and then suggest, " Don't you think
this is the meaning?" *^I think you must take
it this way, Brown ;" and as Tom didn't see his
way to not profiting by these suggestions, the
lesson went on about as quickly as usual, and
BROWN AND ARTHUR 113
Gower was able to start for tlie fives'-court
within five minutes of the half hour.
When Tom and East were left face to face,
they looked at one another for a minute, Tom
puzzled; and East chock full of fun, and then
burst into a roar of laughter.
" Well, Tom," said East, recovering himself,
" I don't see any objection to the new way. It's
about as good as the old one, I think; besides,
the advantage it gives one of feeling virtuous,
and looking down on one's neighbours."
Tom shoved his hand into his back hair. I
ain't so sure," said he; "you two fellows carried
me off' my legs ; I don't think we really tried one
sentence fairly. Are you sure you remember
what the Doctor said to you ?"
" Yes. And I'll swear I couldn't make out
one of my sentences to-day. No, nor never
could. I really don't remember," said East,
speaking slowly and impressively, "to have
come across one Latin or Greek sentence this
half that I could go and construe by the light
of nature. Whereby I am sure Providence in-
tended cribs to be used."
" The thing to find out/' said Tom, medita-
tively, "is, how long one ought to grind at a
114 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
sentence witliout looking at the crib. Now I
think if one fairly looks out all the words one
don't knoW; and then can't hit it, that's enough."
"To be sure, Tommy," said East, demurely,
but with a merry twinkle in his eye. "Your
new doctrine too, old fellow," added he, " when
one comes to think of it, is a cutting at the root
of all school morality. You'll take away mu-
tual help, brotherly love, or in the vulgar tongue
giving construes, which I hold to be one of our
highest virtues. For how can you distinguish
between getting a construe from another boy,
and using a crib? Hang it, Tom, if you're
going to deprive all our school-fellows of the
chance of exercising Christian benevolence and
being good Samaritans, I shall cut the con-
" I wish you wouldn't joke about it, Harry ;
it's hard enough to see one's way, a precious
sight harder than I thought last night. But I
suppose there's a use and an abuse of both, and
one'll get straight enough somehow. But you
can't make out anyhow that one has a right to
use old vulgus-books and copybooks."
''Hullo, more heresy! how fast a fellow goes
down hill when he once gets his head before his
BRO\YN AND ARTHUR. 115
legs. Listen to me, Tom. Not use old vulgus-
books โ why, you Goth! ain't we to take the
benefit of the wisdom, and admire and use the
work of past generations ? Not use old copy-
books ! "Why you might as well say we ought
to pull down Westminster Abbey, and put up a
go-to-meeting shop with churchwarden windows ;
or never read Shakespeare, but only Sheridan
Knowles. Think of all the work and labour
that our predecessors have bestowed on these
very books, and are we to make their work of
"I say, Harry, please don't chaff; I'm really
'' And then, is it not our duty to consult the
pleasure of others rather than our own, and
above all that of our masters ? Fancy then the
difference to them in looking over a vulgus
which has been carefully touched and retouched
by themselves and others, and which must bring
them a sort of dreamy pleasure, as if they'd met
the thought or expression of it somewhere or
another โ before they were born perhaps; and
that of cutting up, and making picture-frames
round all your and my false quantities, and
other monstrosities. Why, Tom, you wouldn't
116 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
be so cruel as never to let old Momiis hum over
the '0 genus humanum' again, and then look
up doubtingly through his spectacles, and end
by smiling and giving three extra marks for it;
just for old sake's sake, I suppose."
" Well," said Tom getting up in something as
like a huff as he was capable of, " it's deuced
hard that when a fellow's really trying to do
what he ought, his best friends'll do nothing but
chaff him and try to put him down." And he
stuck his books under his arm and his hat on
his head, preparatory to rushing out into the
quadrangle, to testify with his own soul of the
faithlessness of friendships.
"Now don't be an ass, Tom," said East, catch-
ing hold of him, "you know me well enough by
this time ; my bark's worse than my bite. You,
can't expect to ride your new crotchet without
anybody's trying to stick a nettle under his tail
and make him kick you off: especially as we
shall all have to go on foot still. But now sit
down and let's go over it again. I'll be as seri-
ous as a judge."
Then Tom sat himself down on the table, andj
waxed eloquent about all the righteousness andj
advantages of the new plan, as vvas his wont
BROWxN AND ARTHUR. 117
whenever he took up any thing; going into it
as if his life depended upon it, and sparing no
abuse which he could think of, of the opposite
method, which he denounced as ungentlemanly,
cowardly, mean, lying, and no one knows what
besides. "Very cool of Tom," as East thought,
but didn't say, " seeing as how he only came out
of Egypt himself last night at bed-time."
Well, Tom," said he at last, "you see when
you and I came to school there were none of
these sort of notions. You may be right โ I
dare say you are. Only what one has always
felt about the masters is, that it's a fair trial of
skill, and last between us and them โ like a
match at football, or a battle. We're natural
enemies in school, that's the fact. We've got to
learn so much Latin and Greek and do so many
verses, and they've got to see that we do it. If
we can slip the collar and do so much less with-
out getting caught, that's one to us. If they can
get more out of us, or catch us shirking, that's
one to them. All's fair in war, but lying. If I
run my luck against their's and go into school
without looking at my lesson, and don't get
called up, why am I a snob or a sneak ? I don't
tell the master I have learnt it. He's got to
118 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
find out whether I have or not : what's he paid
for ? If he calls me up and I get floored, he
makes me write it out in Greek and English.
Yery good, he's caught me, and I don't grumble,
I grant you, if I go and snivel to him, and tell
him I've really tried to learn it but found it so
hard without a translation, or say I've had a
toothache or any humbug of that kind, I'm a
snob. That's my school morality; it's served
me, and you too, Tom, for the matter of that,
these five years. And its all clear and fair no
mistake about it. We understaand it, and they
understand it, and I don't know what we're to
come to with any other.
Tom looked at him, pleased, and a little puz-
zled. He had never heard East speak his mind
seriously before, and couldn't help feeling how
completely he had hit his own theory and
practice up to that time.
"Thank you, old fellow," said he. "You're a
good old brick to be serious, and not put out
with me. I said more than I meant, I dare
say, only you see I know I'm right : whatever
you and Gower and the rest do, I shall hold on
โ I must. And as it's all new and an up-hill
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 119
game, you see, one must hit hard and hold on
tight at first."
'Very good," said East; hold on and hit away
only don't hit under the line."
''But I must bring you over, Harry, or I
shan't be comfortable. Now I allow all you've
said. We've always been honorable enemies
with the masters. We found a state of war
when we came, and went into it of course.
Only don't you think things are altered a good
deal? I don't feel as I used to the masters.
They seem to me to treat one quite differently."
''Yes, perhaps they do," said East; there's a
new set you see, mostly, who don't feel quite sure
of themselves yet. They don't want to fight till
they know the ground."
"I don't think it's only that," said Tom.
"And then the Doctor, he does treat one so
openly, and like a gentleman, and as if one was
working with him."
" Well, so he does," said East ; " he's a splen-
did fellow, and when I get into the sixth I shall
act accordingly. Only you know he has noth-
ing to do with our lessons now, except exam-
ining us. I say though," looking at his watch,
"it's just the quarter. Come along."
120 BROWN AND MITUUR.
As they walked out they got a message, to say
' that Arthur was just starting and would like
to say good-bye ; so they went down to the pri-
vate entrance of the school-house, and found an
open carriage, with Arthur propped up wdth pil-
lows in it, looking already better, Tom thought.
They jumped up on to the steps to shake
hands with him, and Tom mumbled thanks for
the presents he had found in his study, and
looked round anxiously for Arthur's mother.
East, who had fallen back into his usual
humour, looked quaintly at Arthur and said โ
" So you've been at it again, through that hot-
headed convert of yours there. He's been
making our lives a burthen to us all the morning
about using cribs. I shall get floored to a cer-
tainty at second lesson, if I'm called up."
Arthur blushed and looked down. Tom
struck in โ
" Oh, it's all right. He's converted already ;
he always comes through the mud after us,
grumbling and sputtering."
The clock struck and they had to go off to
school, wishing Arthur a pleasant holiday ; Tom
lingering behind a moment to send his thanks
and love to Arthur's mother.
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 121
Tom renewed the discussion after second les-
son, and succeeded so far as to get East to pro-
mise to give the new plan a fair trial.
Encouraged by his success, in the evening,
when they were sitting alone in the large stud}'',
where East lived now almost, 'vice Arthur on
leave,' after examining the new fishing-rod, which
both pronounced to be the genuine article, ('play
enough to throw a midge tied on a single hair
ao^ainst the wind, and strens:th enous^h to hold
a grampus,') they naturally began talking about
Arthur. Tom, who was still bubbling over
with last night's scene and all the thoughts of
the last week, and wanting to clinch and fix the
whole in his own mind, which he coald never
do without first going through the process of
belabouring somebody else with it all, suddenly
rushed into the subject of Arthur^s illness, and
what he had said about death.
East had given him the desired opening, after
a serio-comic grumble, "that life wasn't worth
having now they were tied to a young beggar
who was always 'raising his standard;' and
that he. East, was like a prophet's donkey, who
was obliged to struggle on after the donkey-man
who went after the prophet; that he had none
122 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
of tlie pleasure of starting the new crotchets,
and didn't half understand them, but had to
take the kicks, and carry the luggage as if he
had all the fun," he threw his legs up on to the
sofa, and put his hands behind his head, and
''Well, after all, he's the most wonderful little
fellow I ever came across. There ain't such a
meek, humble boy in the school. Hanged if I
don't think now really, Tom, that he believes
himself a much worse fellow than you or I, and
that he don't think he has more influence in the
house than Dot Bowles, who came last quarter,
and ain't ten yet. But he turns you and me
round his little finger, old boy โ there's no mis-
take about that." And East nodded at Tom
''Now or never," thought Tom; so shutting
his eyes and hardening his heart, he went straight
at it, repeating all that Arthur had said, as near
as he could remember it, in the very words, and
all he himself had thought. The life seemed to
ooze out of it as he went on, and several times
he felt inclined to stop, give it all up, and change
the subject. But somehow he was borne on; he
had a necessity upon him to speak it all out,
BROWN AND AUTHUR. 123
and did so. At the end lie looked at East with
some anxiety, and was delighted to see that that
young gentleman was thoughtful and attentive.
The fact is, that in the stage of his inner life at
which Tom had lately arrived, his intimacy with,
and friendship for East, could not have lasted if
he had not made him aware of, and a sharer in,
the thoughts that were beginning to exercise
him. Nor indeed could the friendship have
lasted if East had shown no sympathy with
these thoughts ; so that it was a great relief to
have unbosomed himself, and to have found that
his friend could listen.
Tom had always had a sort of instinct that
East's levity was only skin-deep, and this instinct
was a true one. East had no want of reverence
for anything he felt to be real ; but his was one
of those natures that burst into what is gene-
rally called recklessness and impiety the moment
they feel that anything is being poured upon
them for their good, which does not come home
to their inborn sense of right, or which appeals
to anything like self-interest in them. Daring
and honest by nature, and out -spoken to an ex-
tent which alarmed all respectabilities, with a
constant fund of animal health and spirits which
124 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
lie did not feel bound to curb in any way, lie
had gained for himself, with the steady part of
the school, (including as well those who wished
to appear steady as those who really were so,)
the character of a boy whom it would be dan-
gerous to be intimate with ; while his own hatred
of every thing cruel, or underhand, or false,
and his hearty respect for what he could see to
be good and true, kept off the rest. /
Tom, besides being very like East in many
points of character, had largely developed in his
composition the capacity for taking the weakest
side. This is not putting it strongly enough, it
was a necessity with him, he couldn't help it, any
more than he could eating or drinking. He
could never play on the strongest side with any
heart at football or cricket, and was sure to
make friends with any boy who was unpopular,
or down on his luck.
Now, though East was not what is generally
called unpopular, Tom felt more and more every
day, as their characters developed, that he stood
alone, and did not make friends among their
contemporaries; and therefore sought him out.
Tom was himself much more popular, for his
power of detecting humbug was much less acute,
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 125
and Ms instincts were much more sociable. He
was at this period of his life, too, largely given
to taking people for what they gave them-
selves out to be; but his singleness of heart,
fearlessness, and honesty, were just what East
appreciated, and thus the two had been drawn
into great intimacy.
This intimacy had not been interrupted by
Tom's guardianship of Arthur.
East had often, as has been said, joined them
in reading the Bible ; but their discussions had
almost always turned upon the characters of the
men and w^omen of whom they read, and not
become personal to themselves. In fact, the
two had shrunk from personal, religious discus-
sions, not knowing how it might end ; and fear-
ful of risking a friendship very dear to both,
and which they felt somehow, without quite
knowing why, would never be the same, but
either tenfold stronger or sapped at its founda-
tion, after such a communing together.
What a bother all this explaining is ! I wish
we could get on without it. But we can't. How-
ever, you'll all find, if you haven't found it
already, that a time comes in every human friend-
ship, when you must go down into the depths
126 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
of yourself, and lay bare what is there to your
friend, and wait in fear for his answer. A few
moments may do it ; and, it may be (most likely
will be, as you are English boys), that you never
do it but once. But done it must be, if the
friendship is to be worth the name, you must
find what is there, at the very root and bottom
of one another's hearts ; and if you are at one
there, nothing on earth can, or at least ought, to
East had remained lying down until Tom
finished speaking, as if fearing to interrupt him ;
he now sat up at the table and leant his head on
one hand, taking up a pencil with the other and
working little holes with it in the table-cover.
After a bit he looked up, stopped the pencil,
and said, "Thank you very much, old fellow;
there's no other boy in the house would have
done it for me but you or Arthur. I can see
well enough," he went on after a pause, "all the
best big fellows look on me with suspicion ; they
think I'm a devil-may-care reckless young scamp
โ so I am โ eleven hours out of twelve โ but
not the twelfth. Then all of our contemporaries
worth knowing, follow suit of course; we're
very good friends at games and all that, but not
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 12Y
a soul of tliem but you and Arthur ever tried to
break tlirongli the crust, and see whether there
was any thing at the bottom of mej and then
the bad ones, I won't stand, and they know that."
"Don't you think that's half fancy, Harry?"
" Not a bit of it," said East, bitterly, pegging
away with his pencil. "I see it all plain enough.
Bless you, you think everybody's as straight-
forward and kind-hearted as you are."
''Well, but what's the reason of it? There
must be a reason. You can play all the games
as well as any one, and sing the best song, and
are the best company in the house. You fancy
you're not liked, Harry. It's all fancy."
"I only wish it was, Tom. I know I could be
popular enough with all the bad ones, but that
I won't have, and the good ones won't have me."
"Why not ?," persisted Tom; " you don't drink
or swear, or get out at night ; you never bully,
or cheat at lessons. If you only showed you
liked it, you'd have all the best fellows in the
house running after you."
" Not I," said East. Then with an effort he
went on, " I'll tell you what it is. I never stop
the Sacrament. I can see from the Doctor down
wardS; how that tells against me."
128 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
" Yes I've seen that," said Tom, " and I've
been very sorry for it, and Arthur and I have
talked about it. I've often thought of speaking
to you, but it's so hard to begin on such subjects.
I'm very glad you've opened it. Now, why don't
*' I've never been confirmed," said East.
" Not been confirmed !" said, Tom in as-
tonishment. I never thought of that. Why
weren't you confirmed with the rest of us nearly
three years ago ? I always thought you'd been
confirmed at home."
"No," answered East, sorrowfully; you see
this was how it happened. Last Confirmation
was soon after Arthur came, and you were so
taken up with him, I hardly saw either of you.
Well, when the Doctor sent round for us about
it, I was living mostly with Green's set โ you
know the sort. They all went in โ I dare say
it was all right, and they got good by it ; I don't
want to judge them. Only all I could see of
their reasons drove me j ust the other way. 'T was,
' because the Doctor liked it ;' ' no boy got on
who did'nt stay the Sacrament;' it was 'the
correct thing,' in fact, like having a good hat to
wear on Sundays. I couldn't stand it. I didn't
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 129
feel that I wanted to lead a different life, I was
very well content as I was, and I wasn't going
to sham religious to curry favour with the Doc-
tor, or any one else."
East stopped speaking, and pegged away more
diligently than ever with his pencil. Tom
was ready to cry. He felt half sorry at first
that he had been confirmed himself He seemed
to have deserted his earliest friend, to have left
him by himself at his worst need for those long
years. He got up and went and sat by East,
and put his arm over his shoulder.
''Dear old boy," he said, "how careless and
selfish I've been. But why didn't you come
and talk to Arthur and me ?"
" I wish to heaven I had," said East, "but I
was a fool. It's too late talking of it now."
" Why too late ? You want to be confirmed
now, don't you ?"
"I think so," said East. ''I've thought about
it a good deal; only often I fancy I must be
changing, because I see it's to do me good here,
just what stopped me last time. And then I go
"I'll tell you now how 'twas with me," said
Tom, warmly. "If it hadn't been for Arthur, I
130 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
should have done just as you did. I liope I
should. I honour you for it. But then he
made it out just as if it was taking the weak
side before all the world โ gc>ijig ino^ce for all
against every thing that's strong and rich and
proud and respectable, a little band of brothers
against the whole world. And the Doctor
seemed to say so too, only he said a great deal
"Ah," groaned East, "but there again, that's
just another of my difficulties whenever I think
about the matter. I don't want to be one of
your saints, one of your elect, whatever the
right phrase is. My sympathies are all the
other way ; with the many, the poor devils who
run about the streets, and don't go to church.
Don't stare, Tom ; mind I'm telling you all that's
in my heart โ as far as I know it โ but its all a
muddle. You must be gentle with me if you
want to land me. Now I've seen a great deal
of this sort of religion, I was bred up in it, and
I can't stand it. If nineteen-twentieths of the
world are to be left to uncovenanted mercies,
and that sort of thing, which means in plain
English to go to hell, and the other twentieth
are to rejoice at it all, why โ "
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 131
'' Oil ! but, Harry, they ain't, they dont," broke
in Tom, really shocked. "Oh, how I wish
Arthur hadn't gone! I'm such a fool about
these things. But it's all you want too. East,
it is indeed. It cuts both ways somehow, being
confirmed and taking the Sacrament. It makes
you feel on the side of all the good and all
the bad too, of everybody in the world. Only
there's some great, dark, strong power, which is
crushing you and everybody else. That's what
Christ conquered, and we've got to fight. What
a fool I am ! I can't explain. If Arthur were
only here !"
'' I begin to get a glimmering of what you
mean," said East.
" I say now," said Tom eagerly, " do you re-
member how we both hated Flashman ?" i^
" Of course I do," said East; " I hate him still.
What then ?
" Well, when I came to take the Sacrament, I
had a great struggle about that. I tried to put
him out of my head; and when I couldn't do
that, I tried to think of him as evil, as some-
thing that the Lord who was loving me hated,
and which I might hate too. But it wouldn't
do. I broke down; I believe Christ himself
132 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
'broke me down; and when tiie Doctor gave me
tlie bread and wine, and leant over me praying,
I prayed for poor Flashman as if it had been
you or Arthur."
East buried his face in his hands on the table.
Tom could feel the table tremble. At last he
looked up. "Thank you again, Tom," said he;
" you don't know what you may have done for
me to night. I think I see now how the right
sort of sympathy with poor devils is got at."
" And you'll stop the Sacrament next time
won't you ?" said Tom.
" Can I before I'm confirmed ?,'
"Go and ask the Doctor."
That very night after "prayers, East followed
the Doctor and the old Yerger, bearing the can-
dle, up stairs. Tom watched, and saw the
Doctor turn round when he heard footsteps fol-
lowing him closer than usual, and say, -'Hah,
East! Do you want to speak to me, my man ?"
"If you please, sir;" and the private door
closed, and Tom went to his study in a state of
great trouble of mind.
It was almost an hour before East came back ;
then he rushed in breathless.
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 133
"Well, it's all right," lie shouted, seizing Tom*
by the hand. " I feel as if a ton weight were
off my mind."
" Hurrah," said Tom ; " I knew it would be, but
tell us all about it."
"Well, I just told him all about it. You
can't think how kind and gentle he was, the
great grim man, whom I've feared more than
anybody on earth. When I stuck, he lifted me,
just as if I'd been a little child. And he seemed
to know all I'd felt, and to have gone through
it all. And I burst out crying โ more than I've
done this five years, and he sat down by me,
and stroked my head ; and I went blundering
. on, and told him all ; much worse things than
I've told you. And he wasn't shocked a bit,
and didn't snub me, or tell me I was a fool, and
it was all nothing but pride or wickedness,
though I dare say it was. And he didn't tell
me not to follow out my thoughts, and he didn't
give me any cut-and-dried explanation. But
when I'd done he just talked a bit, I can hardly
remember what he said, yet ; but it seemed to
spread round me like healing, and strength, and
light; and to bear me up, and plant me on a
rock; where I could hold my footing and fight
134 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
for myself. I don't know wliat to do, I feel so
happy. And it's all owing to you, dear old
boy !" and he siezed Tom's hand again.
"And you're to come to the Communion?"
" Yes, and to be confirmed in the holidays."
Tom's delight was as great as his friend's.
But he hadn't yet had out all his own talk, and was
bent on improving the occasion : so he proceeded
to propound Arthur's theory about not being
sorry for his friends' deaths, which he had
hitherto kept in the background, and by which
he was much exercised; for he didn't feel it
honest to take what pleased him and tlirow over
the rest, and was trying vigorously to persuade
himself that he should like all his best friends
to die off-hand.
But East's powers of remaining serious were
exhausted, and in five minutes he was saying
the most ridiculous things he could think of,
till Tom was almost getting angry again.
Despite of himself) however, he couldn't help
laughing and giving it up, when East appealed
to him " Well, Tom, you ain't going to punch
my head because I insist upon being sorry when
you go to earth ?"
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 135
And so their talk finished for that time, and
they tried to learn first lesson ; with very poor
success, as appeared next morning, when they
were called up, and narrowly escaped being
floored, which ill-luck, however, did not sit
heavily on either of their souls.
TOM brown's last MATCH.
" Heaven grant the manlier heart, that timely, ere
Youth fly, with life's real tempest would be coping;
The fruit of dreamy hoping
Is, waking, blank despair."
The curtain now rises upon the last act of
our little drama โ for hard-liearted publishers
warn me that a single volume must of necessity
have an end. Well, well ! the pleasantest things
must come to an end. I little thouo^ht last Ions:
vacation, when I began these pages to help
while away some spare time at a watering-place,
how vividly many an old scene, which had lain
hid away for years in some dusty old corner of
my brain, would come back again, and stand
before me as clear and bright, as if it had hap-
pened yesterday. The book has been a most
grateful task to me, and I only hope that all
you, my dear young friends, who read it, (friends
assuredly you must be, if you get as far as this,)
will be half as sorry to come to the last stage as
Not but what there has been a solemn and a
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 13Y
sad side to it." As tlie old scenes became living,
and the actors in tliem became living too, many
a grave in the Crimea and distant India, as well
as in the quiet churchyards of our dear old
country, seemed to open and send forth their
dead, and their voices and looks and ways were
again in one's ears and eyes, as in the old school-
days. But this was not sad; how should it be,
if we believe as our Lord has taught us ? How
should it be, when one more turn of the wheel,
and we shall be by their sides again, learning
from them again, perhaps, as we did when we
were new boys ?
Then there were others of the old faces so dear
to us once, who had somehow or another just
gone clean out of sight โ are they dead or living ?
We know not, but the thought of them brings
no sadness with it. Wherever they are, we can
well believe they are doing God's work and
getting His wages.
But are there not some, whom we still see
sometimes in the streets, whose homes and
haunts we know, whom we could probably find
almost any day in the week if we were set to
do it, yet from whom we are really farther than
we are from the dead, and from those who have
138 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
gone out of our ken? Yes, there are and must
be sucli; and therein lies the sadness of old
school memories. Yet of these our old comrades,
from whom more than time and space separate us,
there are some, by whose sides we can feel sure
that we shall stand again when time shall be no
more. We may think o^ one another now as
dangerous fanatics or narrow bigots, with whom ^
no truce is possible, from whom we shall only
sever more and more to the end of our lives,
whom it would be our respective duties to im-
prison or hang, if we had the power. We must
go our way, and they theirs, as long as flesh and
spirit hold together ; but let our own Kugby
poet speak words of healing for this trial:
"To veer how vain! on, onward strain,
Brave barks ! in light, in darkness too;
Through winds and tides, one compass guides,
To that, and your own selves, be true.
But, blithe breeze ! and great seas.
Though ne'er that earliest parting past,
On your wide plain they join again,
Together lead them home at last.
One port, methought, alike they sought,
One purpose hold where'er they fare.
bounding breeze, rushing seas !
At last, at last, unite them there !"*
* CLOUGn. Ambarvalia.
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 139
This is not mere longing, it is a prophecy. So
over these too, our old friends who are friends
no more, we sorrow not as men without hope.
It is only for those who seem to us to have lost
compass and purpose, and to be drifting help-
lessly on rocks and quicksands ; whose lives are
spent in the service of the world, the flesh and
the devil; for self alone, and not for their fellow-
men, their country, or their God, that we must
mourn and pray without sure hope and without
light; trusting only that He, in whose hands
they as well as we are, who has died for them as
well as for us, who sees all His creatures
" With larger, other eyes than ours,
To make allowance for us all,"
will, in His own way and at His own time, lead
them also home.
Another two years have passed, and it is
again the end of the summer half-year at Rugby ;
in fact; the school has broken up. The fifth-
form examinations were over last week, and
upon them have followed the speeches, and the
sixth-form examinations for exhibitions; and
they too, are over now. The boys have gone
to all the -winds of heaven, except the town
140 BROWN AND ARTHUR,
boys and tlie eleven, and the few enthusiasts
besides who have asked leave to stay in their
houses to see the result of the cricket matches.
For this year the Wellesburn return match and
the Marylebone match are played at Rugby, to
the great delight of the town and neighbour-
hood, and the sorrow of those aspiring young
cricketers who have been reckoning for the last
three months on showing off at Lords' ground.
The Doctor started for the lakes yesterday
morning, after an interview with the captain of
the eleven, in the presence of Thomas, at which
he arranged in what school the cricket dinners
were to be, and all other matters necessary for
the satisfactory carrying out of the festivities;
and warned them as to keeping all spirituous
liquors out of the close, and having the gates
closed by nine o'clock.
The Wellesburn match was played out with
great success yesterday, the school winning by
three wickets ; and to-day the great event of the
cricketing year, the Marylebone match, is being
played. What a match it has been! The Lon-
don eleven came down by an afternoon train
yesterday, in time to see the end of the "Welles-
burn match ; and as soon as it was over, their
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 141
leading men and umpire inspected tlie ground,
criticizing it rather unmercifully. The captain
of the school eleven, and one or two others, who
had played the Lords' match before and knew
old Mr. Aislebie and several of the Lords' men,
accompanied them; while the rest of the eleven
looked on from under the Three Trees with
admiring eyes, and asked one another the names
of the illustrious strangers, and recounted how
many runs each of them had made in the late
matches in Bell's Life. They looked such hard-
bitten, wiry, whiskered fellows, that their young
adversaries felt rather desponding as to the
result of the morrow's match. The ground was
at last chosen, and two men set to work upon it
to water and roll; and then, there being yet
some half-hour of daylight, some one had sug-
gested a dance on the turf. The close was half
full of citizens and their families, and the idea
was hailed with enthusiasm. The cornopean
player was still on the ground. In five minutes
the eleven and half-a-dozen of the Wellesburn
and Marylebone men got partners somehow or an-
other, and a merry country dance was going on, to
which every one flocked, and new couples joined
in every minute, till there were a hundred of
142 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
them going down the middle and up again โ
and the long line of school-buildings looked
gravely do^vn on them, every window glowing
with the last rays of the western sun, and the
rooks clanged about in the tops of the old elms,
greatly excited and resolved on having their
country dance too, and the great flag flapped
lazily in the gentle western breeze. Altogether,
it was a sight which would have made glad the
heart of our brave old founder, Lawrence Sheriff,
if he were half as good a fellow as I take him
to have been. It was a cheerful sight to see ;
but what made it so valuable in the sight of the
captain of the school eleven was, that he there
saw his young hands shaking off their shyness
and awe of the Lords' men, as they crossed
hands and capered about on the grass together ;
for the strangers entered into it all, and threw
away their cigars, and danced and shouted like
boys ; while old Mr. Aislebie stood by looking
on, in his white hat, leaning on a bat, in benevo-
lent enjoyment. " This hop will be worth thirty
runs to us to-morrow, and will be the making
of Haggles and Johnson," thinks the young
leader, as he revolves many things in his mind,
standing by the side of Mr. Aislebie, whom he
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 143
will not leave for a miimte; for he feels that the
character of the school for courtesy is resting on
But when a quarter to nine struck, and he
saw old Thomas beginning to fidget about with
the keys in his hand, he thought of the Doctor's
parting monition, and stopped the cornopean at
once, notwithstanding the loud-voiced remon-
strances from all sides ; and the crowd scattered
away from the close, the eleven all going into
the school-house, where supper and beds were
provided for them by the Doctor's orders.
Deep had been the consultations at supper as
to the order of going in, who should bowl the
first over, whether it would be best to play
steady or freely ; and the youngest hands de-
clared that they shouldn't be a bit nervous, and
praised their opponents as the j oiliest fellows in
the world, except, perhaps, their old friends the
Wellesburn men. How far a little good-nature
from their elders will go with the right sort of
The morning had dawned bright and warm,
to the intense relief of many an anxious young-
ster, up betimes to mark the signs of the weather.
The eleven went down in a body before break-
144 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
fast, for a plunge in the cold bath in the corner
of the close. The ground was in splendid order,
and soon after ten o'clock, before spectators had
arrived, all was ready, and two of the Lords*
men took their places at the wicket ; the school,
with the usual liberality of young hands, having
put their adversaries in first. Old Bailey stepped
up to the mcket, and called play, and the match
"Oh, well bowled! well bowled, Johnson!"
cries the captain, catching up the ball and send-
ing it high above the rook trees, while the third
Marylebone man walks away from the wicket,
and old Bailey gravely sets up the middle stump
again and puts the bails on.
^'How many runs?" Away scamper three
boys to the scoring-table, and are back again in
a minute amongst the rest of the eleven, who
are collected together in a knot between wicket.
"Only eighteen runs, and three wickets down!"
"Huzza for old Kugbyl" sing^ out Jack Hag-
gles, the long-stop, toughest and burliest of boys,
commonly called "Swiper Jack;" and forthwith
stands on his head, and brandishes his legs in
the air in triumph, till the next boy catches
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 145
hold of his heels and throws him over on to his
"Steady there, don't be such an ass, Jack,"
says the captain; "we haven't got the best
wicket yet. Ah, look out now at cover-point,"
adds he, as he sees a long-armed, bare-headed,
slashing-looking player coming to the wicket.
"And, Jack, mind your hits; he steals more
runs than any man in England."
And they all find that they have got their
work to do now. The new comer's off-hitting
is tremendous, and his running like a flash of
lightning. He is never in his ground, except
when his wicket is down. Nothing in the whole
game so trying to boys; he has stolen three
byes in the first ten minutes, and Jack Eaggles
is furious, and begins throwing over savagely to
the further wicket, until he is sternly stopped by
the captain. It is all that the young gentleman
can do to keep his team steady, but he knows
that every thing depends on it, and faces his
work bravely. The score creeps up to fifty, the
boys begin to look blank, and the spectators,
who are now mustering strong, are very silent.
The ball flies off his bat to all parts of the field,
and he gives no rest and no catches to any one.
146 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
But crickei is full of glorious chances, and the
goddess who presides over it loves to bring down
the most skilful players. Johnson, the young
bowler, is getting wild, and bowls a ball almost
wide to the oif ; the batter steps out and cuts it
beautifully to where cover-point is standing very
deep, in fact, almost off the ground. The ball
comes skimming and twisting along about three
feet from the ground. He rushes at it, and it
sticks somehow or other in the fingers of his
left hand, to the utter astonishment of himself
and the whole field. Such a catch hasn't been
made in the close for years, and the cheering is
maddening. *' Pretty cricket," says the captain,
throwing himself on the ground by the deserted
wicket with a long breath ; he feels that a crisis
I wish I had space to describe the whole
match; how the captain stumped the next man
off a leg-shooter, and bowled slow cobs to old
Mr. Aislebie, who came in for the last wicket.
How the Lords' men were out by half-past twelve
o'clock for ninety-eight runs. How the captain
of the school eleven went in first to give his
men pluck, and scored twenty-five in beautiful
style ; how Rugby was only four behind in the
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 14t
first innings. What a glorious dinner they had
in the fourth-form school, and how the cover-
point hitter sang the most topping comic songs,
and old Mr. Aislebie made the best speeches that
ever were heard, afterwards. But I haven't
space, that's the fact, and so you must fancy it
all, and carry yourselves on to half-past seven
o'clock, when the school are again in, with five
wickets down and only thirty -two runs to make
to win. The Marylebone men played carelessly
in their second innings, but they are working
like horses now to save the match.
There is much healthy, hearty, happy life scat-
tered up and down the close ; but the group to
which I beg to call your special attention is
there, on the slope of the island, which looks
towards the cricket-ground. It consists of three
figures; two are seated on a bench, and one on
the ground at their feet. The first, a tall, slight,
and rather gaunt man, with a bushy eyebrow
and a dry, humourous smile, is evidently a cler-
gyman. He is carelessly dressed, and looks
rather used-up, which isn't much to be wondered
at, seeing that he has just finished six weeks of
examination work; but there he basks, and
spreads himself out in the evening sun, bent on
148 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
enjoying life, though he doesn't quite know
what to do with his arms and legs. Surely it is
our young friend the young Master, whom we
have had glimpses of before, but his face has
gained a great deal since we last came across
And by his side, in white flannel shirt and
trousers, straw hat, the captain's belt, and the
untanned yellow cricket-shoes which all the
eleven wear, sits a strapping figure near six feet
high, with ruddy tanned face and whiskers,
curly brown hair, and a laughing, dancing eye.
He is leaning forward, with his elbows resting
on his knees, and dandling his favourite bat,
with which he has made thirty or forty runs to-
day, in his strong brown hands. It is Tom
Brown, grown into a young man nineteen years
old, a praepostor and captain of the eleven,
spending his last day as a Kugby boy, and, let
us hope, as much wiser as he is bigger since we
last had the pleasure of coming across him.
And at their feet, on the warm, dry ground,
similarly dressed, sits Arthur, Turkish-fashion,
with his bat across his knees. He, too, is no
longer a boy; less of a boy, in fact, than Tom,
if one may judge from the thoughtfulness of his
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 149
face, which is somewhat paler, too, than one
could wish; but his figure, though slight, is
well-knit and active, and all his old timidity has
disappeared, and is replaced by silent, quaint
fun, with which his face twinkles all over, as he
listens to the broken talk between the other two,
in which he joins every now and then.
All three are watching the game eagerly, and
joining in the cheering which follows every good
hit. It is pleasing to see the easy, friendly foot-
ing which the pupils are on with their master,
perfectly respectful, yet with no reserve and
nothing forced in their intercourse. Tom has
clearly abandoned the old theory of '^natural
enemies" in this case, at any rate.
But it is time to listen to what they are say-
ing, and see what we can gather out of it.
*' I don't object to your theory," says the mas-
ter, " and I allow you have made a fair case for
yourself. But now, in such books as Aristo-
phanes, for instance, you've been reading a play
this half with the Doctor, haven't you ?"
"Yes, the Knights," answered Tom.
"Well, I'm sure you would have enjoyed the
wonderful humour of it twice as much if you
had taken more pains with your scholarship.'*
150 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
^'"Well, sir, I don't believe any boy in the
form enjoyed the sets-to between Cleon and
the Sausage-seller more than I did โ eh, Ar-
thur?" said Tom, giving him a stir mth his foot.
''Yes, I must say he did," said Arthur. "I
think, sir, you've hit upon the wrong book
"Not a bit of it," said the master. ''Why,
in those very passages of arms, how can you
thoroughly appreciate them unless you are
master of the weapons ? and the weapons are
the language which you. Brown, have never
half worked at; and so, as I say, you must
have lost all the delicate shades of meaning which
makes the best part of the fun."
"Oh! well played โ bravo, Johnson!" shouted
Arthur, dropping his bat and clapping furiously,
and Tom joined in with a "bravo, Johnson I"
which might have been heard at the chapel.
"Eh! what was it? I didn't see," inquired
the master; "they only got one run, I thought?"
"No, but such a ball, three-quarters length
and coming straight for his leg-bail. Nothing
but that turn of the wrist could have saved him,
and he drew it away to leg for a safe one.
Bravo, Johnson !"
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 151
"How well they are bowling, though," said
Arthur ; " they don't mean to be beat, I can see."
"There noAV," struck in the master, "you see
that's just what I have been preaching this half-
hour. The delicate play is the true thing. I
don't understand cricket, so I don't enjoy those
fine draws which you tell me are the best play,
though when you or Raggles hit a ball hard
away for six, I am as delighted as any one.
Don't you see the analogy?"
"Yes, sir," answered Tom, looking up
roguishly, "I see; only the question remains,
whether I should have got most good by under-
standing Greek particles or cricket thoroughly.
I'm such a thick, I never should have had time
" I see you are an incorrigible," said the mas-
ter, with a chuckle; "but I refute you by an
example. Arthur there, has taken in Greek and
"Yes, but no thanks to him; Greek came
natural to him. Why, when he first came I
remember he used to read Herodotus for plea-
sure as I did Don Quixote, and couldn't have
made a false concord if he'd tried ever so hard
โ and then I looked after his cricket."
152 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
" Out ! Bailey lias given liim out โ do you see,
Tom?" cries Arthur. " How foolish of them to
run so hard."
^' Well, it can't be helped ; he has played very
well. Whose turn is it to go in ?"
" I don't know, they've got your list in the
" Let's go and see," said Tom, rising ; but at
this moment Jack Eaggles and two or three
more come running to the island moat.
"Oh, Brown, mayn't I go in next?" shouts
"Whose name is next on the list?" says the
"Winter's, and then Arthur's," answers the
boy who carries it ; " but there are only twenty-
six runs to get, and no time to lose. I heard
Mr. Aislebie say that the stumps must be drawn
at a quarter-past eight exactly."
" Oh, do let the Swiper go in," chorus the
boys; so Tom yields against his better judg-
" I dare say now I've lost the match by this
nonsense," he says, as he sits down again ; " they'll
be sure to get Jack's wicket in three or four
minutes ; however, you'll have the chance, sir.
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 153
of seeing a hard hit or two," adds he, smiling and
turning to the master.
" Come, none of your irony, Brown," answers
the master. " I'm beginning to understand the
game scientifically. What a noble game it is,
'' Isn't it ? But it's more than a game. It's
an institution," said Tom.
" Yes," said Arthur, " the birthright of British
boys, old and young, as habeas corpus and trial
by jury are of British men."
" The discipline and reliance on one another
which it teaches is so valuable, I think," went
on the master, " it ought to be such an unselfish
game. It merges the individual in the eleven ;
he doesn't play that he may win, but that his
"That's very true," said Tom, "and that's
why football and cricket, now one comes to think
of it, are such much better games than fives' or
hare-and-hounds, or any others where the object
is to come in first or to win for oneself, and
not that one's side may win."
"And then the captain of the eleven!" said
the master, ''what a post is his in our school-
world ! almost as hard as the Doctor's ; requiring
l54 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
skill, and gentleness, and firmness, and I know
not what other rare qualities."
''Which don't he wish he may get?" said
Tom, laughing ; " at any rate, he hasn't got them
yet, or he wouldn't have been such a flat to-night
as to let Jack Kaggles go in out of his turn."
"Ah! the Doctor never would have done
that," said Arthur, demurely. "Tom, you've a
great deal to learn yet in the art of ruling."
" Well, I wish you'd tell the Doctor so, then,
and get him to let me stop till I'm twenty. I
don't want to leave, I'm sure."
" What a sight it is," broke in the master,
''the Doctor as a ruler. Perhaps ours is the
only little corner of the British Empire which is
thoroughly, wisely, and strongly ruled just now.
I'm more and more thankful every day of my
life that I came here to be under him."
"So am I, I'm sure," said Tom; "and more
and more sorry that I've got to leave."
" Every place and thing one sees here reminds
one of some wise act of his," went on the master.
"This island now โ you remember the time,
Brown, when it was laid out in small gardens,
and cultivated by frost-bitten fags in February
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 155
'' Of course I do," said Tom ; '' didn't I liate
spending two hours in the afternoons grubbing
in the tough dirt with the stump of a fives' bat?
But turf- cart was good fun enough."
^' I dare say it was, but it was always leading
to fights with the townspeople; and then the
stealing flowers out of all the gardens in Kugby
for the Easter show was abominable."
" Well, so it was," said Tom, looking down ;
"but we fags couldn't help ourselves. But what
has that to do with the Doctor's ruling?"
"A great deal, I think," said the master;
" what brought island-fagging to an end ?"
" Why, the Easter speeches were put off till
midsummer," said Tom, " and the sixth had the
gymnastic poles put up here."
"Well, and who changed the time of the
speeches, and put the idea of gymnastic poles
into the heads of their worships the sixth form ?"
said the master.
" The Doctor, I suppose," said Tom. " I never
thought of that."
"Of course you didn't," said the master, "or
else, fag as you were, you would have shouted
with the whole school against putting down old
customs. And that's the way that all the Doc-
156 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
tor's reforms have been carried out when he has
been left to himself โ quietly and naturally,
putting a good thing in the place of a bad, and
letting the bad die out ; no wavering and no
hurry โ the best thing that could be done for the
time being, and patience for the rest."
" Just Tom's own way," chimed in Arthur,
nudging Tom with his elbow, " driving a nail
where it will go ;" to which allusion Tom an-
swered by a sly kick.
" Exactly so," said the master, innocent of the
allusion and by-play.
Meantime Jack Raggles, with his sleeves
tucked up above his great brown elbows, scorn-
ing pads and gloves, has presented himself at
the wicket ; and having run one for a forward
drive of Johnson's, is about to receive his first
ball. There are only twenty -four runs to make,
and four wickets to go down, a winning match
if they play decently steady. The ball is a very
swift one, and rises fast, catching Jack on the
outside of the thigh, and bounding away as if
from India-rubber, while they run two for a leg-
bye amidst great applause, and shouts from
Jack's many admirers. The next ball is a beau-
tifully pitched ball for the outer stump, which
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 15t
the reckless and unfeeling Jack catches hold of,
and hits right round to leg for five, while the
applause becomes deafening; only seventeen
runs to get with four wickets โ the game is all
but ours !
It is over now, and Jack walks swaggering
about his wicket, with the bat over his shoulder,
while Mr. Aislebie holds a short parley with his
men. Then the cover-point hitter, that cunning
man, goes on to bowl slow twisters. Jack waves
his hand triumphantly towards the tent, as much
as to say, " See if I don't finish it all off now in
Alas, my son Jack ! the enemy is too old for
thee. The first ball of the over Jack steps out
and meets, swiping with all his force. If he had
only allowed for the twist! but he hasn't, and
so the ball goes spinning up straight into the
air, as if it would never come down again.
Away runs Jack, shouting and trusting to the
chapter of accidents ; but the bowler runs stead-
ily under it, judging every spin, and, calling
out, " I have it," catches it, and playfully pitches
it on to the back of the stalwart Jack, who is
departing with a rueful countenance.
" I knew how it would be," says Tom, rising.
158 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
" Come along, the game's getting very serious."
So they leave the island and go to the tent,
and after deep consultation Arthur is sent in,
and goes off to the wicket with a last exhortation
from Tom, to play steady and keep his bat
straight. To the suggestions that Winter is the
best bat left, Tom only replies, "Arthur is the
steadiest, and Johnson will make the runs if the
wicket is only kept up."
" I am surprised to see Arthur in the eleven,"
said the master, as they stood together in front
of the dense crowd, which was now closing
in round the ground.
" Well, I'm not quite sure that he ought to be
in for his play," said Tom, ^'but I couldn't help
putting him in. It will do him so much good,
and you can't think what I owe him."
The master smiled. The clock strikes eight,
and the whole field becomes fevered with excite-
ment. Arthur, after two narrow escapes, scores
one; and Johnson gets the ball. The bowling
and fielding are superb, and Johnson's batting
worthy the occasion. He makes here a two, and
there a one, managing to keep the ball to himself,
and Arthur backs up and runs perfectly ; only
eleven runs to make now, and the crowd scarcely
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 159
breathe. At last Arthur gets the ball again, and
actually drives it forward for two, and feels
prouder than when he got the three best prizes,
at hearing Tom's shouts of joy, '' Well played,
well played, young'unl"
But the next ball is too much for a young
hand, and his bails fly different ways. Nine runs
to make, and two wickets to go down โ it is too
much for human nerves.
Before Winter can get in, the omnibus which
is to take the Lords' men to the train pulls up at
the side of the close, and Mr. Aislebie and Tom
consult, and give out that the stumps will be
drawn after the next over. And so ends the
great match. Winter and Johnson carry out
their bats, and, it being a one day's match, the
Lords' men are declared winners, they having
scored the most in the first innings.
But such a defeat is a victory : so think Tom
and all the school eleven, as they accompany
their conquerors to the omnibus, and send them
off with three ringing cheers, after Mr. Aislebie
has shaken hands all round, saying to Tom, '* I
must compliment you, sir, on your eleven, and
I hope we shall have you for a member if you
come up to town."
160 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
As Tom and the rest of tlie eleven were turn-
ing back into tlie close, and everybody was be-
ginning to cry out for another country dance,
encouraged by the success of the night before,
the young master who was just leaving the close,
stopped him, and asked him to come up to tea
at half-past eight, adding, ''I won't keep you
more than half-an-hour, and ask Arthur to come
" I'll come up with you directly if you'll let
me," said Tom, "for I feel rather melancholy,
and not quite up to the country dance and sup-
per with the rest."
''Do, by all means," said the master, I'll wait
here for you."
So Tom went off to get his boots and things
from the tent, to tell Arthur of the invitation,
and to speak to his second in command about
stopping the dancing and shutting up the close
as soon as it grew dusk. Arthur promised to
follow as soon as he had had a dance. So Tom
handed his things over to the man in charge of
the tent, and walked quietly away to the gate
where the master was waiting, and the two took
their way together up the HilmDrton road.
Of course they found the master's house locked
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 161
up; and all tlie servants away in the close, about
this time no doubt footing it away on the grass
with extreme delight to themselves, and in utter
oblivion of the unfortunate bachelor their mas-
ter, whose one enjoyment in the shape of meals
was his "dish of tea" (as our grandmothers
called it), in the evening; and the phrase was
apt in his case, for he always poured his out into
the saucer before drinking. Great was the good
man's horror at finding himself shut out of his
own house. Had he been alone he would have
treated it as a matter of course, and would have
strolled contentedly up and down his gravel-
walk until some one came home; but he was
hurt at the stain on his character of host, es-
pecially as the guest was a pupil. However, the
guest seemed to think it a great joke, and
presently as they poked about round the house,
mounted a wall from which he could reach a
passage window : the window, as it turned out,
was not bolted, so in another minute Tom was
in the house and down at the front door, which
he opened from inside. The master chuckled
grimly at this burglarious entry, and insisted on
leaving the hall door and two of the front win-
dows open, to frighten the truants on their
162 BROWN AND ARTHUR,
return ; and tlien the two set about foraging for
tea, in wliicli operation the master was much at
fault, having the faintest possible idea of where
to find anjrthing, and being moreover wonderous-
ly short-sighted ; but Tom by a sort of instinct
knew the right cupboards in the kitchen and
pantry, and soon managed to place on the
snuggery table better materials for a meal than
had appeared there probably during the reign
of his tutor, who was then and there initiated,
amongst other things, into the excellence of that
mysterious condiment, a dripping cake. The
cake was newly baked, and all rich and flaky ;
Tom had found it reposing in the cook's private
cupboard, awaiting her return; and as a warn
ing to her they finished it to the last crumb.
The kettle sang away merrily on the hob of the
snuggery, for, notwithstanding the time of year,
they lighted a fire, throwing both the windows
wide open at the same time ; the heap of books
and papers were pushed away to the other end
of the table, and the great solitary engraving of
King's College Chapel over the mantel-piece look-
ed less stiff than usual, as they settled themselves
down in the twilight to the serious drinking of tea.
After some talk on the match, and other in-
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 163
dijfferent subjects, the conversation came natu-
rally back to Tom's approacbing departure, over
which he began again to make his moan.
" Well, we shall all miss you quite as much
as you will miss us," said the master. "You are
the Nestor of the school now, are you not ?
" Yes, ever since East left," answered Tom.
"By-the-bye have you heard from him?"
^'Yes I had a letter in February, just before
he started for India to join his regiment ."
" He will make a capital officer."
"Aye, won't he?" said Tom, brightening;"
" no fellow could handle boys better, and I sup-
pose soldiers are very like boys. And he'll
never tell them to go where he won't go himself.
No mistake about that โ a braver fellow never
" His year in the sixth will have taught him
a good deal that will be useful to him now."
"So it will," said Tom staring into the fire.
"Poor dear Harry," he went on, ''how well I
remember the day we were put out of the twenty.
How he rose to the situation, and burnt his
cigar-cases, and gave away his pistols, and pon-
dered on the constitutional authority of the
sixth, and his new duties to the Doctor, and the
164 BROWN AND ARTHUR
fiftli-form, and the fags. Aye, and no fellow
ever acted up to them better, though he was
always a people's man โ for the fags, and against
constituted authorities. He couldn't help that,
you know. I'm sure the Doctor must have liked
him ?" said Tom, looking up inquiringly.
" The. Doctor sees the good in every one, and
appreciates it," said the master dogmatically,
" but I hope East will get a good colonel. He
won't do if he can't respect those above him.
How long it took him, even here, to learn the
lesson of obeying."
" Well, I wish I was alongside of him," said
Tom. " If I can't be at Rugby, I want to be at
work in the world, and not dawdling away
three years at Oxford."
" What do you mean by " at work in the
world ?" said the master, pausing, with his lips
close to his saucer-full of tea, and peering at
Tom over it.
" Well, I mean real work ; one's profession ;
whatever one will have really to do, and make
one's living by it. I want to be doing some real
good, feeling that I am not only at play in the
world, "^answered Tom, rather puzzled to find
out himself what he really did mean.
BROWN AND A'RTHUR. 165
" You are mixing up two very different things
in your head, I think, Brown," said the master,
putting down his empty saucer, " and you ought
to get clear about them. You talk of ' working
to get your living,' and ' doing some real good
in the world,' in the same breath. Now you
may be getting a very good living in a profes-
sion, and yet doing no good at all in the world,
but quite the contrary, at the same time. Keep
the latter before you as your one object, and you
will be right, whether you make a living or not ;
but if you dwell on the other, you'll very likely
drop into mere money -making, and let the world
take care of itself for good or evil. Don't be in
a hurry about finding your work in the world
for yourself ; you are not old enough to judge
for yourself yet, but just look about you in the
place you find yourself in, and try to make
things a little better and honester there. You'll
find plenty to keep your hand in at Oxford, or
wherever else you go. And don't be led away
to think this part of the world important, and
that unimportant. Every corner of the world
is important. No man knows whether this part
or that is most so, but every man may do some
honest work in his own corner." And then the
166 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
good man went on to talk wisely to Tom of the
sort of w^ork which, he might take up as an un-
dergraduate ; and warned him of the prevalent
University sins, and explained to him the many
and great differences between University and
school life ; till the twilight changed into dark-
ness, and they heard the truant servants stealing
in by the back entrance.
" I wonder where Arthur can be," said Tom
at last, looking at his watch ; " why, its nearly
half-past nine already."
"Oh, he is comfortably at supper wdth the
eleven, forgetful of his oldest friends," said the
master. " Nothing has given me greater plea-
sure," he went on, ^^than your friendship for
him, it has been the making of you both."
"Of me, at any rate," answered Tom; "I
should never have been here now but for him.
It was the luckiest chance in the world that
sent him to Eugby, and made him my chum."
" Why do you talk of the lucky chances ? said
the master : " I don't know that there are any
such things in the world ; at any rate there was
neither luck nor chance in that matter."
Tom looked at him inquiringly, and he went
on, " Do you remember when the Doctor lectured
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 16t
you and East at tlie end of one half-year, wlien
you were in the shell, and had been getting into
all sorts of scrapes?"
"Yes, well enough," said Tom, "it was the
half-year before Arthur came."
"Exactly so" answered the master. "Now I
was with him a few minutes afterwards, and he
was in great distress about you two. And, after
some talk, we both agreed that you in particular
wanted some object in the school beyond games
and mischief, for it was quite clear that you
never would make the regular school work your
first object. And so the Doctor at the beginning
of the next half-year, looked out the best of the
new boys and separated you and East, and put
the youug boy into your study, in the hope that
when you had somebody to lean on you, you
would begin to see to stand a little steadier your-
self, and get manliness and thoughtfulness. And
I can assure you he has watched the experiment
ever since with great satisfaction. Ah! not one
of you boys will ever know the anxiety you
have given him, or the care with which he has
watched over every step in your school lives."
Up to this time Tom had never wholly given
in to, or understood the Doctor. At first he had
168 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
thorouglily feared liim. For some years, as I
have tried to show, he had learnt to regard him
with love and respect, and to think him a very
great and wise and good man. But, as regarded
his own position in the school, of which he was
no little proud, Tom had no idea of giving any
one credit for it but himself; and truth to tell,
was a very self- conceited young gentleman on
the subject. He was wont to boast that he had
fought his own way fairly up the school, and
had never made up to, or been taken up by any
big fellow or master, and that it was now quite
a different place from what it was when he first
came. And indeed, though he didn't actually
boast of it, yet in his secret soul he did to a
great extent believe, that the great reform in the
school had been owing quite as much to himself
as to any one else. Arthur, he acknowledged,
had done him good, and taught him a good deal,
so had other boys in different ways ; but they
had not had the same means of influence on the
school in general ; and as for the Doctor, why
he was a splendid master, bnt every one knew
that masters could do very little out of school
hours. In short, he felt on terms of equality
with his chief; so far as the social state of the
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 1G9
school was concerned, and tliought that the
Doctor would find it no easy matter to get on
without him. Moreover, his school toryism was
still strong, and he looked still with some jeal-
ousy on the Doctor, as somewhat of a fanatic in
the matter of change ; and thought it very desi-
rable for the school that he should have some
wise person (such as himself) to look sharply
after vested school-rights, and see that nothing
was done to the injury of the republic without
It was a new light to him to find, that besides
teaching the sixth, and governing and guiding
the whole school, editing classics, and writing
histories, the great head-master had found time
in those busy years to watch over the career,
even of him, Tom Brown, and his particular
friends, โ and, no doubt, of fifty other boys at
the same time ; and all this without taking the
least credit to himself, or seeming to know, or
let any one else know, that he ever thought par-
ticularly of any boy at all.
However, the Doctor's victory was complete
from that moment over Tom Brown at any rate.
He gave way at all points, and the enemy
marched right over him, calvary, infantry, and
J 70 r>E(.WN AND ARTIRR.
artillery, tlie land transport corps, and the camp
followers. It had taken eight long years to do
it, but now it was done thoroughly, and there
wasn't a corner of him left Avhich didn't believe
in the Doctor. Had ]ic returned to school again,
and the Doctor began the half-year by abolish-
ing fagging, and football, and the Saturday half-
holida}^, or all or any of the most cherished
school institutions, Tom would have supported
him with the blindest faith. And so, after a
half confession of his previous short-comings,
and sorrowful adieus to his tutor, from whom he
received two beautifully -bound volumes of the
Doctor's Sermons, as a parting present, he
marched down to the school-house, a hero- wor-
shipper, who would have satisfied the soul of
Thomas Carlyle himself.
There he found the eleven at high jinks after
supper. Jack Raggies shouting comic songs, and
performing feats of strength; and was greeted
by a chorus of mingled remonstrance at his
desertion, and joy at his reappearance. And
falling in with the humour of the evening, was
soon as great a boy as all the rest; and at ten
o'clock was chaired round the quadrangle, on
one of the hall benches, borne aloft by the eleven.
BROWN AND ARTHUR. HI
shouting in chorus, " For he's a jolly good fel-
low," while old Thomas in a melting mood, and
the other school-house servants, stood looking
And the next morning after breakfast he
squared up all the cricketing accounts, went
round to his tradesmen and other acquaintance,
and said his hearty good-byes ; and by twelve
o'clock was in the train, and away for London,
no longer a school-boy, and divided in his
thoughts between hero-worship, honest regrets
over the long stage of his life which was now
slipping out of sight behind him, and hopes
and resolves for the next stage, upon which he
was entering with all the confidence of a young
"Strauge friend, past, present, and to be;
Loved deeplier, darklier understood;
Behold, I dream a dream of good,
And mingle all the world with thee."
In tlie summer of 1842, our hero stopped
once again at the well-known station ; and,
leaving his bag and fishing-rod with a porter,
walked slowly and sadly np towards the town.
It was now July. He had rushed away from
Oxford the moment that term was over, for a
fishing ramble in Scotland, with two college
friends, and had been for three weeks living on
oatcake, mutton-hams, and whiskey, in the
wildest parts of Skye. They had descended one
sultry evening on the little inn at Kyle Ehea
ferry, and while Tom and another of the party
put their tackle together and began exploring
the stream for a sea-trout for supper, the third
strolled into the house to arrange for their en-
tertainment. Presently he came out in a loose
blouse and slippers, a short pipe in his mouth,
and an old newspaper in his hand, and threw
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 173
himself on tlie heathery scrub, which met the
shingle within easy hail of the fishermen. There
he lay, the picture of free-and-easy loafing, hand-
to-mouth young England, " improving his mind,"
as he shouted to them, by the perusal of the
fortnight -old weekly paper, soiled with the
marks of toddy-glasses and tobacco-ashes, the
legacy of the last traveller, which he had hunted
out from the kitchen of the little hostelrj^, and,
being a youth of a communicative turn of mind,
began imparting the contents to the fisherman
as he went on.
" What a bother they are making about these
wretched corn laws; here's three or four col-
umns full of nothing but sliding scales and
fixed duties. Hang this tobacco, it's always
going out! Ah, here's something better โ a
splendid match between Kent and England,
Brown Kent winning by three wickets. Fe]ix
fifty-six runs without a chance, and not out!"
Tom, intent on a fish which had risen at him
twice, answered only with a grunt,
"Any thing about the Goodwood?" called out
the third man.
"Kory-o-more drawn. Butterfly colt amiss,"
shouted the student.
174 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
"Just my luck," grumbled the inquirer, jerk-
ing liis flies olT the water, and throwing again
with a heavy, sullen splash, and frightening
*' I say, can't you throw lighter over there ?
We ain't fishing for grampuses," shouted Tom
across the stream.
"Hullo, Brown! here's something for you,"
called out the reading man next moment. "Why,
your old master, Arnold of Rugby, is dead."
Tom's hand stopped half-way in his cast, and
his line and flies went all tangling round and
round his rod; you might have knocked him
over with a feather. Neither of his companions
took any notice of him luckily; and, with a
violent effort, he set to work mechanically to
disentangle his line. He felt completely carried
off his moral and intellectual legs, as if he had
lost his standing-point in the invisible world.
Besides which, the deep-loving loyalty which
he felt for his old leader made the shock in-
tensely painful. It was the first great wrench
of his life, the first gap which the angel Death
had made in his circle, and he felt numbed, and
beaten-down, and spiritless. Well, well ! I be-
lieve it was good for him and for many others
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 1Tยซ^
in like case ; who had to learn by that loss, that
.the soul of man cannot stand or lean upon any
human prop, however strong, and wise, and
good; but that He upon whom alone it can
stand and lean will knock away all such props
in His own wise and merciful way, until there is
no ground or stay left but Himself, the Kock of
Ages, upon whom alone a sure foundation for
every soul of man is laid.
As he wearily laboured at his line, the thought
struck him, "It may all be false, a mere newspaper
lie," and he strode up to the recumbent smoker.
" Let me look at the paper," said he.
'' Nothing else in it," answered the other, hand-
ing it up to him listlessly. โ Hullo Brown 1 what's
the matter, old fellow โ ain't you well ?"
" Where is it ? " said Tom, turning over the
leaves, his hands trembling, and his eyes swim-
ming, so that he could not read.
" What ? What are you looking for ? " said his
friend, jumping up and looking over his shoulder.
" That โ about Arnold," said Tom.
''Oh here," said the other, putting his finger
on the paragraph. Tom read, it over and over
again; there could be no mistake of identity,
though the account was short enough.
ITG BROWN AND ARTHUR.
" Thank you," said lie at last, dropping tlio
paper, ''I shall go for a walkf-aon't you and
Herbert wait supper for me." And away he
strode, up over the moor at the back of tlie
house, to be alone, and master his grief if possi-
His friend looked after him, sympathizing and
wondering, and knocking the ashes out of his
pipe, walked over to Herbert. After a short
parley they walked together up to the house.
*' I'm afraid that confounded newspaper has
spoiled Brown's fun for this trip."
" How odd that he should be so fond of his
old master," said Herbert. Yet they also were
both public-school men.
The two, however, notwithstanding Tom's pro-
hibition, waited supper for him, and had every-
thing ready when he came back some half-an-
hoLir afterwards. But he could not join in their
cheerful talk, and the party was soon silent, not-
withstanding the efforts of all three. One thing
only had Tom resolved, and that was that he
couldn't stay in Scotland any longer ; he felt an
irresistible longing to get to Kugby, and then
home, and soon broke it to the others, who had
too much tact to oppose.
BROWN AND ARTHUR. lit
So by daylight the next morning he was
marching thro ^ii Rosshire, and in the evening
hit the Caledonian canal, took the next steamer,
and travelled as fast as boat and railway conld
carry him to the Rugby station.
As he walked up to the town he felt shy and
afraid of being seen, and took the back streets ;
why, he didn't know, but he followed his instinct.
At the school-gates he made a dead pause ; there
was not a soul in the quadrangle โ all was lonely,
and silent, and sad. So with another effort he
strode through the quadrangle, and into the
He found the little matron in her room, in deep
mourning ; shook her hand, tried to talk, and
moved nervously about : she was evidently think-
ing of the same subject as he, but he couldn't be-
"Where shall I find Thomas?" said he at
last, getting desperate.
*^ In the servants' hall, I think, sir. But won't
you take any thing ? " said the matron, looking
*' No, thank you," said he, and strode off again
to find the old verger, who was sitting in his
little den as of old, puzzling over hieroglyphics.
Its BROWN AND ARTHUR.
He looked np tlirougli his spectacles,, as Tom
seized his hand and wruns: it.
''Ah! you've heard all about it, sir, I see,"
Tom nodded, and then sat down on the shoe-
board, while the old man told his tale, and wiped
his spectacles, and fairly flowed over with quaint,
homely, honest sorrow.
By the time he had done, Tom felt much
" Where is he buried, Thomas ? " said he at
" Under the altar in the chapel, sir," answered
Thomas. " You'd like to have the key, I dare
"Thank you, Thomas, โ yes, I should, very
much." And the old man fumbled among his
bunch, and then got up, as though he would go
wdth him ; but after a few steps stopped short
and said, " Perhaps you'd like to go by yourself,
Tom nodded, and the bunch of keys were
handed to him with an injunction to be sure and
lock the door after him, and bring them back
before eight o'clock.
He walked quickly through the quadrangle
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 1*79
and out into the close. The longing which had
been upon him and driven him thns far^ like the
gad-fly in the Greek legends, giving him no rest
in mind or body, seemed all of a sudden not to
be satisfied, but to shrivel up, and pall. '*' Why
should I go on? It's no use," he thought, and
threw himself at full length on the turf, and
looked vaguely and listlessly at all the well-
known objects. There were a few of the town
boys playing cricket, their wicket pitched on the
best piece in the middle of the big-side ground,
a sin about equal to sacrilege in the eyes of a
captain of the eleven. He was very nearly get-
ting up to go and send them off. " Pshaw ! they
won't remember me. They've more right there
than I," he muttered. And the thought that his
sceptre had departed, and his mark was wearing
out, came home to him for the first time, and bit-
terly enough. He was lying on the very spot
where the fights came off; where he himself had
fought six years ago his first and last battle. โ
He conjured up the scene till he could almost
hear the shouts of the ring, and East's whisper
in his ear ; and looking across the close to the
Doctor's private door, half expected to see it
open, and the tall figure in cap and gown
180 BROWN AND ARTHUR.
come striding under the elm-trees towards him.
No, no ! that sight could never be seen again.
There was no flag flying on the round tower ;
the school -house windows were all shuttered up ;
and when the flag went up again, and the shut-
ters came down, it would be to welcome a stran-
ger. All that was left on earth of him whom he
had honoured, was lying cold and still under the
chapel floor. He would go in and see the place
once more, and then leave it once for all. New
men and new methods might do for other people;
let those who would worship the rising star, he
at least would be faithful to the sun which had
set. And so he got up, and walked to the chapel
door and imlocked it, fancying himself the only
mourner in all the broad land, and feeding on his
own selfish sorrow.
He passed through the vestibule, and then
paused for a moment to glance over the empty
benches. His heart was still proud and high;
and he walked up to the seat which he had last
occupied as a sixth-form boy, and sat himself
down there to collect his thoughts.
And, truth to tell, they needed collecting and
settling in order not a little. The memories of
eight years were all dancing through his brain,
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 181
and carrying him about whither they would ;
while beneath them all, his heart was throbbing
with the dull sense of a loss that could never be
made up to him. The rays of the evening sun
came solemnly through the painted windows
above his head and fell in gorgeous colours on the
opposite wall, and the perfect stillness soothed
his spirit by little and little. And he turned to
the pulpit, and looked at it, and then leaning
forward, with his head on his hands, groaned
aloud. โ ' If he could only have seen the Doctor
again for one five minutes, to have told him all
that was in his heart, what he owed to him, how
he loved and reverenced him, and would, by
God's help, follow his steps in life and death, he
could hwve borne it all without a murmur. But
that he should have gone away for ever without
knowing it all, was too much to bear.' " But
am I sure that he does not know it all ? " โ the
thought made him start โ " May he not even
now be near me, in this very chapel ? If he be,
am I sorrowing as he would have me sorrow โ
as I shall wish to have sorrowed when I shall
meet him again ? "
He raised himself up and looked round ; and
after a minute rose and walked humbly down
182 BROAVN AND ARTHUR.
to the loAvcst bench, and sat down on the very
seat which he had occupied on his first Sunday
at Eugby. And then the old memories rushed
back again, but softened and subdued, and sooth-
ing him as he let himself be carried away by
them. And he looked up at the great painted
window above the altar, and remembered how,
when a little boy, he used to try not to look
through it at the elm-trees and the rooks, before
the painted glass came โ and the subscription
for the painted glass, and the letter he wrote
home for money to give to it. And there, down
below, was the very name of the boy who sat
on his right hand on that first day, scratched
rudely in the oak pannelling.
And then came the thought of all his old
school-fellows; and form after form of boys,
nobler, and braver, and purer than he, rose up
and seemed to rebuke him. Could he not think
of them, and what they had felt and were feeling ;
they who had honoured and loved from the first,
the man whom he had taken years to know and
love ? Could he not think of those yet dearer to
him who was gone, who bore his name and shar-
ed his blood, and were now without a husband
or a father ? Then the grief which he began to
BROWN AND ARTHUR. 183
share with others became gentle and holy, and
he rose up once more, and walked up the steps
to the altar ; and while the tears flowed freely
down his cheeks, knelt down humbly and hope-
fully, to lay down there his share of a burden
which had proved itself too heavy for him to
bear in his own strength.
Here let us leave him โ where better could wo
leave him, than at the altar, before which he had
first caught a glimpse of the glory of his birth-
right, and felt the drawing of the bond which
links all living souls together in one brotherhood
โ at the grave beneath the altar of him who had
opened his eyes to see that glory, and softened
his heart till it could feel that bond.
And let us not be hard on him, if at that
moment his soul is fuller of the tomb and him
who lies there, than of the altar and Him of
whom it speaks. Such stages have to be gone
through, I believe, by all young and brave souls,
who must win their way through hero-worship,
to the worship of Him who is the King and Lord
of heroes. For it is only through our mysterious
human relationships, through the love and ten-
derness and purity of mothers, and sisters, and
wives, โ through the strength and courage and
184 "^^ BROWN AND ARTHUR.
wisdom of fathers, and brotliers, and tcacliers,
that we can come to the knowledge of Him, in
whom alone the love, and the tenderness, and
the pm'ity, and the strength, and the courage,
and the wisdom of all these dwell forever and
ever in perfect fulness.
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