A new spirit now passed into me: I examined myself with a jealous and impartial scrutiny; I weighed my acquisitions against those of my brother; I called forth, from their secret recesses, the unexercised and almost unknown stores I had from time to time laid up in my mental armoury to moulder and to rust. I surveyed them with a feeling that they might yet be polished into use; and, excited alike by the stimulus of affection on one side and hatred on the other, my mind worked itself from despondency into doubt, and from doubt into the sanguineness of hope. I told none of my design; I exacted from my uncle a promise not to betray it; I shut myself in my room; I gave out that I was ill; I saw no one, not even the Abbe; I rejected his instructions, for I looked upon him as an enemy; and, for the two months before my trial, I spent night and day in an unrelaxing application, of which, till then, I had not imagined myself capable.
Though inattentive to the school exercises, I had never been wholly idle. I was a lover of abstruser researches than the hackneyed subjects of the school, and we had really received such extensive and judicious instructions from the Abbe during our early years that it would have been scarcely possible for any of us to have fallen into a thorough distaste for intellectual pursuits. In the examination I foresaw that much which I had previously acquired might be profitably displayed,much secret and recondite knowledge of the customs and manners of the ancients, as well as their literature, which curiosity had led me to obtain, and which I knew had never entered into the heads of those who, contented with their reputation in the customary academical routine, had rarely dreamed of wandering into less beaten paths of learning. Fortunately too for me, Gerald was so certain of success that latterly he omitted all precaution to obtain it; and as none of our schoolfellows had the vanity to think of contesting with him, even the Abbe seemed to imagine him justified in his supineness.
The day arrived. Sir William, my mother, the whole aristocracy of the neighbourhood, were present at the trial. The Abbe came to my room a few hours before it commenced: he found the door locked.
Ungracious boy, said he, admit me; I come at the earnest request of your brother Aubrey to give you some hints preparatory to the examination.
He has indeed come at my wish, said the soft and silver voice of Aubrey, in a supplicating tone: do admit him, dear Morton, for my sake!
Go, said I, bitterly, from within, go: ye are both my foes and slanderers; you come to insult my disgrace beforehand; but perhaps you will yet be disappointed.
You will not open the door? said the priest.
I will not; begone.
He will indeed disgrace his family, said Montreuil, moving away.
He will disgrace himself, said Aubrey, dejectedly.
I laughed scornfully. If ever the consciousness of strength is pleasant, it is when we are thought most weak.
The greater part of our examination consisted in the answering of certain questions in writing, given to us in the three days immediately previous to the grand and final one; for this last day was reserved the paper of composition (as it was termed) in verse and prose, and the personal examination in a few showy, but generally understood, subjects. When Gerald gave in his paper, and answered the verbal questions, a buzz of admiration and anxiety went round the room. His person was so handsome, his address so graceful, his voice so assured and clear, that a strong and universal sympathy was excited in his favour. The head-master publicly complimented him. He regretted only the deficiency of his pupil in certain minor but important matters. I came next, for I stood next to Gerald in our class. As I walked up the hall, I raised my eyes to the gallery in which my uncle and his party sat. I saw that my mother was listening to the Abbe, whose eye, severe, cold, and contemptuous, was bent upon me. But my uncle leaned over the railing of the gallery, with his plumed hat in his hand, which, when he caught my look, he waved gently,as if in token of encouragement, and with an air so kind and cheering, that I felt my step grow prouder as I approached the conclave of the masters.
Morton Devereux, said the president of the school, in a calm, loud, austere voice, that filled the whole hall, we have looked over your papers on the three previous days, and they have given us no less surprise than pleasure. Take heed and time how you answer us now.
At this speech a loud murmur was heard in my uncles party, which gradually spread round the hall. I again looked up: my mothers face was averted; that of the Abbe was impenetrable; but I saw my uncle wiping his eyes, and felt a strange emotion creeping into my own, I turned hastily away, and presented my paper; the head master received it, and, putting it aside, proceeded to the verbal examination. Conscious of the parts in which Gerald was likely to fail, I had paid especial attention to the minutiae of scholarship, and my forethought stood me in good stead at the present moment. My trial ceased; my last paper was read. I bowed, and retired to the other end of the hall. I was not so popular as Gerald; a crowd was assembled round him, but I stood alone. As I leaned against a column, with folded arms, and a countenance which I felt betrayed little of my internal emotions, my eye caught Geralds. He was very pale, and I could see that his hand trembled. Despite of our enmity, I felt for him. The worst passions are softened by triumph, and I foresaw that mine was at hand.
The whole examination was over. Every boy had passed it. The masters retired for a moment; they reappeared and reseated themselves. The first sound I heard was that of my own name. I was the victor of the day: I was more; I was one hundred marks before my brother. My head swam round; my breath forsook me. Since then I have been placed in many trials of life, and had many triumphs; but never was I so overcome as at that moment. I left the hall; I scarcely listened to the applauses with which it rang. I hurried to my own chamber, and threw myself on the bed in a delirium of intoxicated feeling, which had in it more of rapture than anything but the gratification of first love or first vanity can bestow.
Ah! it would be worth stimulating our passions if it were only for the pleasure of remembering their effect; and all violent excitement should be indulged less for present joy than for future retrospection.
My uncles step was the first thing which intruded on my solitude.
Ods fish, my boy, said he, crying like a child, this is fine work,Gad, so it is. I almost wish I were a boy myself to have a match with you,faith I do,see what it is to learn a little of life! If you had never read my play, do you think you would have done half so well?no, my boy, I sharpened your wits for you. Honest George Etherege and I,we were the making of you! and when you come to be a great man, and are asked what made you so, you shall say, My uncles play; Gad, you shall. Faith, boy, never smile! Ods fish, Ill tell you a story as a propos to the present occasion as if it had been made on purpose. Rochester and I and Sedley were walking one day, andentre nousawaiting certain appointmentshem!for my part I was a little melancholy or so, thinking of my catastrophe,that is, of my plays catastrophe; and so, said Sedley, winking at Rochester, Our friend is sorrowful. Truly, said I, seeing they were about to banter me,for you know they were arch fellows,truly, little Sid (we called Sedley Sid), you are greatly mistaken;you see, Morton, I was thus sharp upon him because when you go to court you will discover that it does not do to take without giving. And then Rochester said, looking roguishly towards me, the wittiest thing against Sedley that ever I heard; it was the most celebrated bon mot at court for three weeks; he saidno, boy, ods fish, it was so stinging I cant tell it thee; faith, I cant. Poor Sid; he was a good fellow, though malicious,and hes dead now. Im sorry I said a word about it. Nay, never look so disappointed, boy. You have all the cream of the story as it is. And now put on your hat, and come with me. Ive got leave for you to take a walk with your old uncle.
My uncles step was the first thing which intruded on my solitude.
Ods fish, my boy, said he, crying like a child, this is fine work,Gad, so it is. I almost wish I were a boy myself to have a match with you,faith I do,see what it is to learn a little of life! If you had never read my play, do you think you would have done half so well?no, my boy, I sharpened your wits for you. Honest George Etherege and I,we were the making of you! and when you come to be a great man, and are asked what made you so, you shall say, My uncles play; Gad, you shall. Faith, boy, never smile! Ods fish, Ill tell you a story as a propos to the present occasion as if it had been made on purpose. Rochester and I and Sedley were walking one day, andentre nousawaiting certain appointmentshem!for my part I was a little melancholy or so, thinking of my catastrophe,that is, of my plays catastrophe; and so, said Sedley, winking at Rochester, Our friend is sorrowful. Truly, said I, seeing they were about to banter me,for you know they were arch fellows,truly, little Sid (we called Sedley Sid), you are greatly mistaken;you see, Morton, I was thus sharp upon him because when you go to court you will discover that it does not do to take without giving. And then Rochester said, looking roguishly towards me, the wittiest thing against Sedley that ever I heard; it was the most celebrated bon mot at court for three weeks; he saidno, boy, ods fish, it was so stinging I cant tell it thee; faith, I cant. Poor Sid; he was a good fellow, though malicious,and hes dead now. Im sorry I said a word about it. Nay, never look so disappointed, boy. You have all the cream of the story as it is. And now put on your hat, and come with me. Ive got leave for you to take a walk with your old uncle.
That night, as I was undressing, I heard a gentle rap at the door, and Aubrey entered. He approached me timidly, and then, throwing his arms round my neck, kissed me in silence. I had not for years experienced such tenderness from him; and I sat now mute and surprised. At last I said, with the sneer which I must confess I usually assumed towards those persons whom I imagined I had a right to think ill of:
Pardon me, my gentle brother, there is something portentous in this sudden change. Look well round the room, and tell me at your earliest leisure what treasure it is that you are desirous should pass from my possession into your own.
Your love, Morton, said Aubrey, drawing back, but apparently in pride, not anger; your love: I ask nothing more.
Of a surety, kind Aubrey, said I, the favour seems somewhat slight to have caused your modesty such delay in requesting it. I think you have been now some years nerving your mind to the exertion.
Listen to me, Morton, said Aubrey, suppressing his emotion; you have always been my favourite brother. From our first childhood my heart yearned to you. Do you remember the time when an enraged bull pursued me, and you, then only ten years old, placed yourself before it and defended me at the risk of your own life? Do you think I could ever forget that,child as I was?never, Morton, never!
Before I could answer the door was thrown open, and the Abbe entered. Children, said he, and the single light of the room shone full upon his unmoved, rigid, commanding featureschildren, be as Heaven intended you,friends and brothers. Morton, I have wronged you, I own it; here is my hand: Aubrey, let all but early love, and the present promise of excellence which your brother displays, be forgotten.
With these words the priest joined our hands. I looked on my brother, and my heart melted. I flung myself into his arms and wept.
This is well, said Montreuil, surveying us with a kind of grim complacency, and, taking my brothers arm, he blest us both, and led Aubrey away.
That day was a new era in my boyish life. I grew henceforth both better and worse. Application and I having once shaken hands became very good acquaintance. I had hitherto valued myself upon supplying the frailties of a delicate frame by an uncommon agility in all bodily exercises. I now strove rather to improve the deficiencies of my mind, and became orderly, industrious, and devoted to study. So far so well; but as I grew wiser, I grew also more wary. Candour no longer seemed to me the finest of virtues. I thought before I spoke: and second thought sometimes quite changed the nature of the intended speech; in short, gentlemen of the next century, to tell you the exact truth, the little Count Devereux became somewhat of a hypocrite!
CHAPTER IV
A CONTEST OF ART AND A LEAGUE OF FRIENDSHIP.TWO CHARACTERS IN MUTUAL IGNORANCE OF EACH OTHER, AND THE READER NO WISER THAN EITHER OF THEMTHE Abbe was now particularly courteous to me. He made Gerald and myself breakfast with him, and told us nothing was so amiable as friendship among brothers. We agreed to the sentiment, and, like all philosophers, did not agree a bit the better for acknowledging the same first principles. Perhaps, notwithstanding his fine speeches, the Abbe was the real cause of our continued want of cordiality. However, we did not fight any more: we avoided each other, and at last became as civil and as distant as those mathematical lines which appear to be taking all possible pains to approach one another and never get a jot the nearer for it. Oh! your civility is the prettiest invention possible for dislike! Aubrey and I were inseparable, and we both gained by the intercourse. I grew more gentle, and he more masculine; and, for my part, the kindness of his temper so softened the satire of mine that I learned at last to smile full as often as to sneer.
The Abbe had obtained a wonderful hold over Aubrey; he had made the poor boy think so much of the next world, that he had lost all relish for this. He lived in a perpetual fear of offence: he was like a chemist of conscience, and weighed minutiae by scruples. To play, to ride, to run, to laugh at a jest, or to banquet on a melon, were all sins to be atoned for; and I have found (as a penance for eating twenty-three cherries instead of eighteen) the penitent of fourteen standing, barefooted, in the coldest nights of winter, upon the hearthstones, almost utterly naked, and shivering like a leaf, beneath the mingled effect of frost and devotion. At first I attempted to wrestle with this exceeding holiness, but finding my admonitions received with great distaste and some horror, I suffered my brother to be happy in his own way. I only looked with a very evil and jealous eye upon the good Abbe, and examined, while I encouraged them, the motives of his advances to myself. What doubled my suspicions of the purity of the priest was my perceiving that he appeared to hold out different inducements for trusting him to each of us, according to his notions of our respective characters. My brother Gerald he alternately awed and persuaded, by the sole effect of superior intellect. With Aubrey he used the mechanism of superstition. To me, he, on the one hand, never spoke of religion, nor, on the other, ever used threats or persuasion, to induce me to follow any plan suggested to my adoption; everything seemed to be left to my reason and my ambition. He would converse with me for hours upon the world and its affairs, speak of courts and kings, in an easy and unpedantic strain; point out the advantage of intellect in acquiring power and controlling ones species; and, whenever I was disposed to be sarcastic upon the human nature I had read of, he supported my sarcasm by illustrations of the human nature he had seen. We were both, I think (for myself I can answer), endeavouring to pierce the real nature of the other; and perhaps the talent of diplomacy for which, years afterwards, I obtained some applause, was first learnt in my skirmishing warfare with the Abbe Montreuil.