Louis' School Days Part 10

"I ought to learn mine, sir,--I learned my piece to-day."

"What do you mean?" asked Mr. Danby.

"I learned my part of the lesson, as well as Harris, Williams, Sutton, and Charles Salisbury. We forgot our lessons last night, but it is quite an accident that I have said mine to-day."

"I am glad you have had the honor to say so," said Mr. Danby.

"Of course you must learn yours, but let me have no more learning pieces, if you please."

CHAPTER VI.

"Blessed are they that dwell in Thy house, they will be still praising Thee. For a day in Thy courts is better than a thousand. I had rather be a door-keeper in the house of my G.o.d, than to dwell in the tents of wickedness."--Psalm lx.x.xiv. 4, 10.

Dr. Wilkinson's school was too large to be entirely accommodated with sittings in the nearest church--and, consequently, was divided into two bodies on Sunday, one of which regularly attended one of the churches in Bristol, where Mr. Wilkinson, the doctor's son, occasionally did duty.

It fell to Louis' lot, generally, to be of the Bristol party, and unless the day was rainy he was not ill-pleased with his destiny, for the walk was very pleasant, and there was something in the chorus of bells in that many-churched city, and the sight of the gray towers and spires, very congenial to his feelings. It happened that the Sunday after Louis had received permission to mix as usual with his school-fellows was one of those peculiarly sunny days that seem to call upon G.o.d's people especially to rejoice and be glad in the Works of His hand. Louis' mind was in a more than usually peaceful state, and his heart overflowed with quiet happiness as he looked down from the height of Brandon Hill upon the city below. He and his companion had walked on rather faster than the rest of their school-fellows, and now stood waiting till they came up.

"A penny for your thoughts, Mortimer," said his companion, a pleasant-looking boy of fifteen or sixteen years of age; "you are very silent to-day--what may be the subject of your profound meditations?"

Louis hardly seemed to hear the question, for he suddenly turned his bright face to his interrogator, and exclaimed, "What a beautiful sight it is to see so many churches together, Meredith! I think our churches make us such a happy country."

[Ill.u.s.tration: Louis and Meredith on Brandon Hill.]

"Upon my word," replied Meredith, "you are endowing those piles of stone with considerable potency. What becomes of commerce and--"

"I mean, of course," interrupted Louis, "that it is religion that makes us a happier country than others. I love so to look at the churches; the sight of one sometimes, when all is fair and quiet, brings the tears into my eyes."

"Hey-dey! quite sentimental! You'd better be a parson, I think."

"I hope I shall be a clergyman--I wish very much to be one--there is not such another happy life. I was just thinking, Meredith, when you spoke to me, of a verse we read yesterday morning, which quite expresses my feelings: 'One thing have I desired of the Lord which I will seek after, that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the fair beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in His temple.'"

Meredith looked with some surprise at Louis, and as they moved on he said carelessly, "I suppose somebody will have the gratification of beholding me in a long gown some day, holding forth for the edification of my devoted flock."

"Are you going to be a clergyman?" asked Louis.

"Yes, I suppose I must. Don't you think I shall be a most useful character?"

"Oh! surely you wish it, do you not?"

"Well, I don't much mind," replied Meredith, s.n.a.t.c.hing a handful of leaves from the hedge near him; "I shall have a nice fat living, and it's a respectable kind of thing."

Louis was horror-struck--he had not imagined such an idea--he almost gasped out, "Oh! Meredith, I can hardly understand you. Surely that is not your only wish about it: that cannot be a reason--not a right one."

"Why, what's the harm?" said Meredith, laughing. "I only say outright what hundreds think. If I could choose, perhaps I might like the army best, but my father has a comfortable provision in the church for me, and so I, like a dutiful son, don't demur, especially as, if I follow the example of my predecessor, it will be vastly more easy than a soldier's life."

"Meredith, Meredith, this is too solemn a thing to laugh about. I have often wondered how it is there are clergymen who can take their duties so easily as some do; but if they only undertake them for your reasons, I cannot feel so much surprised that they should be so careless. How can you expect any happiness from such a life! I should be afraid to talk so."

Meredith stared contemptuously. "You are a Methodist, Louis," he said; "I have no doubt I shall preach as good sermons as you: just put on a grave face, and use a set of tender phrases, and wear a brilliant on your little finger, and a curly head, and there you are a fas.h.i.+onable preacher at once--and if you use your white pocket-handkerchief occasionally, throw your arms about a little, look as if you intended to tumble over the pulpit and embrace the congregation, and dose your audience with a little pathos, you may draw crowds--the ladies will idolize you."

"I should not think that such popularity would be very good,"

replied Louis, "supposing you could do as you say; but it seems to me quite shocking to speak in such a slighting manner of so holy a thing. Were you ever at an ordination, Meredith?"

"Not I," said Meredith.

"I should think if you had been you would be afraid to think of going to answer the solemn questions you will be asked when you are ordained.

I was once with papa at an ordination at Norwich cathedral, and I shall never forget how solemnly that beautiful service came upon me. I could not help thinking how dreadful it must be to come there carelessly, and I wondered how the gentlemen felt who were kneeling there--and the hymn was so magnificent, Meredith. I think if you were there with your present feelings, you would be afraid to stay. It would seem like mocking G.o.d to come to answer all those solemn questions, and not mean what you said.

I think it is wicked."

Louis spoke rapidly, and with great emotion.

Meredith looked angry, struggling with a feeling of shame, and a wish to laugh it off. "You are exclusively precise," he said; "others are not, and have as much right to their opinion as you to yours. Trevannion, for instance--he's going into the church because it is so genteel."

"I hope you are mistaken," said Louis, quickly.

"Not I; I heard him say the same thing myself."

"I am _very_ sorry," said Louis, sadly. "Oh! I would rather be a laborer than go into the church with such a wish--and yet, I had rather be a very poor curate than a rich duke: it is such a happy, holy life." The last part of Louis' speech was nearly inaudible, and no more was said until the afternoon.

It was Dr. Wilkinson's wish that the Sabbath should be pa.s.sed as blamelessly as he had the power of ordering it in his household; but to make it a day of reverence and delight among so large a number of boys, with different dispositions and habits of life, was an arduous task. Mr. James Wilkinson was with the boys the whole afternoon, as well as his father, to whose utmost endeavors he joined his own, that the day might not be wholly unprofitable. In spite, however, of all diligence, it could not fail of often being grossly misspent with many of the pupils; for it is not possible for human power effectually to influence the heart, and, until that is done, any thing else can be but an outward form.

This afternoon the boys were scattered over the large playground. In one corner was the doctor, with twenty or thirty boys around him, and in other directions, the different ushers hearing Catechisms and other lessons. Some of the parties were very dull, for no effort was made by the instructor to impart a real delight in the Word of G.o.d to his pupils; and religion was made merely a matter of question and answer, to remain engraved in such heartless form on the repugnant mind of the learner.

And, alas! how can it be otherwise, where the teacher himself does not know that religion is a real and happy thing, and not to be learned as we teach our boys the outlines of heathen mythology?

Sitting on the ground, lolling against one of the benches under a tree, sat Hastings Meredith and Reginald and Louis Mortimer; and one or two more were standing or sitting near; all of whom had just finished answering all the questions in the Church Catechism to Mr. Danby, and had said a Psalm.

Louis was sitting on the bench, looking flushed, thinking of holidays, and, of course, of home,--home Sabbaths, those brightest days of home life,--when Trevannion came up with his usual air of cool, easy confidence. Trevannion was the most gentlemanly young man in the school; he never was in a hurry; was particularly alive to any thing "vulgar," or "sn.o.bbish," and would have thought it especially unbecoming in him to exhibit the smallest degree of annoyance at any untoward event. It took a good deal to put him out of countenance, and he esteemed it rather plebeian to go his own errands, or, indeed, to take any unnecessary trouble.

"Were you in Bristol this morning, Meredith?" he said.

"Yes, sure, your highness," replied Meredith, yawning.

"Tired apparently," said Trevannion ironically, glancing at the rec.u.mbent att.i.tude of the speaker.

"Worried to death with that old bore Danby, who's been going backwards and forwards for the last hour, with 'What is your name?' and 'My good child,' &c. I'm as tired as--as--oh help me for a simile! as a pair of worn-out shoes."

"A poetical simile at last," remarked Reginald, laughing.

"You would have a nice walk," said Trevannion.

"Very! and a sermon gratis to boot," replied Meredith. "It would have done you good, Trevannion, to have heard what shocking things you have done in being so _very genteel_."

"What do you mean?" said Trevannion, coolly.

"Louis Mortimer was giving me a taste of his Methodistical mind on the duties of clergymen generally, and your humble servant especially."

"I presume you do not include yourself in the fraternity yet?"

said Trevannion.