[V.]
CONTACT WITH THE UPPER CLASSES
The private schools had been started in opposition to the terrorising sway of the public schools. Since their existence depended on the goodwill of the pupils, the latter enjoyed great freedom, and were treated humanely. Corporal punishment was forbidden, and the pupils were accustomed to express their thoughts, to ask questions, to defend themselves against charges, and, in a word, were treated as reasonable beings. Here for the first time John felt that he had rights. If a teacher made a mistake in a matter of fact, the pupils were not obliged to echo him, and swear by his authority; he was corrected and spiritually lynched by the class who convinced him of his error. Rational methods of teaching were also employed. Few lessons were set to be done at home. Cursory explanations in the languages themselves gave the pupils an idea of the object aimed at, i.e., to be able to translate. Moreover, foreign teachers were appointed for modern languages, so that the ear became accustomed to the correct accent, and the pupils acquired some notion of the right pronunciation.
A number of boys had come from the state schools into this one, and John also met here many of his old comrades from the Clara School. He also found some of the teachers from both the Clara and Jacob Schools. These cut quite a different figure here, and played quite another part. He understood now that they had been in the same hole as their victims, for they had had the headmaster and the School Board over them. At last the pressure from above was relaxed, his will and his thoughts obtained a measure of freedom, and he had a feeling of happiness and well-being.
At home he praised the school, thanked his parents for his liberation, and said that he preferred it to any former one. He forgot former acts of injustice, and became more gentle and unreserved in his behaviour. His mother began to admire his erudition. He learned five languages besides his own. His eldest brother was already in a place of business, and the second in Paris. John received a kind of promotion at home and became a companion to his mother. He gave her information from books on history and natural history, and she, having had no education, listened with docility. But after she had listened awhile, whether it was that she wished to raise herself to his level, or that she really feared worldly knowledge, she would speak of the only knowledge which, she said, could make man happy. She spoke of Christ; John knew all this very well, but she understood how to make a personal application. He was to beware of intellectual pride, and always to remain simple. The boy did not understand what she meant by "simple," and what she said about Christ did not agree with the Bible. There was something morbid in her point of view, and he thought he detected the dislike of the uncultured to culture. "Why all this long school course," he asked himself, "if it was to be regarded as nothing in comparison with the mysterious doctrine of Christ's Atonement?" He knew also that his mother had caught up this talk from conversations with nurses, seamstresses, and old women, who went to the dissenting chapels. "Strange," he thought, "that people like that should grasp the highest wisdom of which neither the priest in the church nor the teacher in the school had the least notion!" He began to think that these humble pietists had a good deal of spiritual pride, and that their way to wisdom was an imaginary short-cut. Moreover, among his school-fellows there were sons of barons and counts, and, when in his stories out of school he mentioned noble titles, he was warned against pride.
Was he proud? Very likely; but in school he did not seek the company of aristocrats, though he preferred looking at them rather than at the others, because their fine clothes, their handsome faces, and their polished finger-nails appealed to his æsthetic sense. He felt that they were of a different race and held a position which he would never reach, nor try to reach, for he did not venture to demand anything of life. But when, one day, a baron's son asked for his help in a lesson, he felt himself in this matter, at any rate, his equal or even his superior. He had thereby discovered that there was something which could set him by the side of the highest in society, and which he could obtain for himself, i.e., knowledge.
In this school, because of the liberal spirit which was present, there prevailed a democratic tone, of which there had been no trace in the Clara School. The sons of counts and barons, who were for the most part idle, had no advantage above the rest. The headmaster, who himself was a peasant's son from Smaland, had no fear of the nobility, nor, on the other hand, had he any prejudice against them or wish to humiliate them. He addressed them all, small and big ones, familiarily, studied them individually, called them by their Christian names, and took a personal interest in them. The daily intercourse of the townspeople's sons with those of the nobility led to their being on familiar terms with one another. There were no flatterers, except in the upper division, where the adolescent aristocrats came into class with their riding-whips and spurs, while a soldier held their horses outside. The precociously prudent boys, who had already an insight into the art of life, courted these youths, but their intercourse was for the most part superficial. In the autumn term some of the young grandees returned from their expeditions as supernumerary naval cadets. They then appeared in class with uniform and dirk. Their fellows admired them, many envied them, but John, with the slave blood in his veins, was never presumptuous enough to think of rivalling them; he recognised their privileges, never dreamed of sharing them, guessed that he would meet with humiliations among them, and therefore never intruded into their circle. But he did dream of reaching equal heights with theirs through merit and hard work. And when in the spring those who were leaving came into the classes to bid farewell to their teachers, when he saw their white students' caps, their free and easy manners and ways, then he noticed that they were also an object of admiration to the naval cadets.
In his family life there was now a certain degree of prosperity. They had gone back to the Norrtullsgata, where it was more homely than the Sabbatsberg, and the landlord's sons were his school-fellows. His father no longer rented a garden, and John busied himself for the most part with his books. He led the life of a well-to-do-youth. Things were more cheerful at home; grown-up cousins and the clerks from his father's office came on Sundays for visits, and John, in spite of his youth, made one of the company. He now wore a coat, took care of his personal appearance, and, as a promising scholar, was thought more highly of than one of his years would otherwise have been. He went for walks in the garden, but the berries and the apple-trees no longer tempted him.
From time to time there came letters from his brother in Paris. They were read aloud, and listened to with great attention. They were also read to friends and acquaintances, and that was a triumph for the family. At Christmas his brother sent a photograph of himself in a French school uniform. That was the climax. John had now a brother who wore a uniform and spoke French! He exhibited the photograph in the school, and rose in the social scale thereby. The naval cadets were envious, and said it was not a proper uniform, for he had no dirk. But he had a "kepi," and shining buttons, and some gold lace on his collar.