Tom Brown's Schooldays [122]
suggestions, the lesson went on about as quickly as usual, and Gower was able to start for the 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 chokefull 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 ever 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 intended cribs to be used."
"The thing to find out," said Tom meditatively, "is how long one ought to grind at a sentence without 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 mutual 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 concern."
"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 copy- books."
"Hullo, more heresy! How fast a fellow goes downhill when he once gets his head before his legs. Listen to me, Tom. Not use old vulgus-books! 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 no value?"
"I say, Harry, please don't chaff; I'm really serious."
"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 - 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 be so cruel as never to let old Momus hum over the 'O 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
When Tom and East were left face to face, they looked at one another for a minute, Tom puzzled, and East chokefull 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 ever 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 intended cribs to be used."
"The thing to find out," said Tom meditatively, "is how long one ought to grind at a sentence without 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 mutual 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 concern."
"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 copy- books."
"Hullo, more heresy! How fast a fellow goes downhill when he once gets his head before his legs. Listen to me, Tom. Not use old vulgus-books! 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 no value?"
"I say, Harry, please don't chaff; I'm really serious."
"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 - 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 be so cruel as never to let old Momus hum over the 'O 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