John de Lancaster: a novel; vol. I.

by Richard Cumberland

As his researches had chiefly carried him to those authorities, of which the classical scholar takes no account, so by arming himself with them in the lists of controversy, he fought with weapons, and made left-handed thrusts, that even literary men could rarely parry, and Colonel Wilson never. So equipped, he could lay down a proposition, which nobody would dispute, and draw inferences from it which nobody could admit: but let this be considered rather as an exercise of his ingenuity, than as a defect in his understanding.

Colonel Wilson, who loved the man, and understood his character, saw with infinite regret his indecision as to the education of his grandson, whose strong natural understanding demanded cultivation, and whose handsome person was now ripening into early manhood. Edward, the younger son of Colonel Wilson had now left the university, having obtained every honour, that either his classical or academical exercises could procure for him. He had been ordained deacon, and was now of age to take priest’s orders. He also contemplated our neglected hero with compassionate regret, and had taken up a very favourable impression both of his talents and disposition. He thought with his father on the side of public education in general, but he did not consider himself upon those terms with Mr. De Lancaster, which would warrant him to volunteer any opinion upon the subject.

The opportunity, which he did not venture to seek, one day presented itself, when De Lancaster, sitting after dinner, addressed himself to the colonel, and said—I believe I am aware of most of the arguments, that are usually adduced in favour of a public school, and am so far from questioning the good sense of those parents, who make that system of education their choice, that I could almost admit, that out of a hundred cases it is the wisest course, which can be taken in ninety and nine: the only question with me is, whether mine be not exactly that single exception. If I wished to cherish in my grandson’s heart that early spirit of emulation, which might urge him to the pursuits of fame and fortune in either of the liberal professions, a public school would be the proper nursery for his ambition; but that is not my wish. If he can creditably support the independent station, which his ancestors have held for many generations past, I aim at nothing more; and surely, when I admit that public schools are the fittest nurseries for public characters, I may be allowed to say that private education is properest for those, who are destined to fill private stations. If John De Lancaster survives to be the owner of Kray-Castle (which Heaven grant!) I hope he will there establish his abode, and be found the protector of merit, the friend of his tenants and the father of the poor. He might do this without the help of any of the heathen writers, either Greeks or Romans; but I don’t wish to exclude them; a gentleman should not be unacquainted with them; though I am painfully and penitently convinced he may bestow too large a portion of his time upon them. Plutarch in his treatise, that Grotius has prefixed to his edition of Stobæus, debates the question how young students are to read the poets, to what extent and under what exceptions: It is a heavy and Bœotian work, that talks of many things, and teaches nothing. In this country we manufacture our children, male and female, and by the labour of the workman attempt to give them all the same polish, let the materials they are composed of be ever so inert and heavy. Nobody taught the nightingale to sing, yet every foolish father and mother conceive they can teach their jackdaw to carol like that heaven-born songstress. It is lost labour to manure and dress a soil, in which there is no principle of vegetation. This I trust is not the case with my grandson John: He is a manly, sensible, honorable boy, and has given striking proof of a benevolent heart in his conduct towards the poor soldier, who died in my house; this he did without instruction from his Horace or his Juvenal, and this perhaps he would not have had an opportunity of doing at a public school; at all events I should not have had the opportunity of witnessing it. I therefore give my preference to a private and domestic education. Now, Mr. Edward Wilson, you, who are covered with laurels, worthily bestowed upon you by your venerable Alma Mater, if you think I am in error, convince me of my error, and you will not find me backward to retract my opinion and adopt a better.

To give my opinion, replied Edward Wilson, in a question of such magnitude would in all cases be presumptuous, but to obtrude it in contradiction to your superior judgment would be unpardonable. Circumstanced however as your grandson is in point of age and understanding, I hold him so unfitted for a station at the very bottom of a public school, that even without adverting to the very strong motives, which you assign for education under your own eye, I answer without hesitation, that my sentiments perfectly agree and coincide with yours.

I am made very happy by your approbation, said De Lancaster, and now I must tell you, Mr. Wilson, that an event has been announced to me by this letter, which in one sense I must consider as a loss, in another as a gain. My loss is that of an old acquaintance and contemporary, the late Reverend Dr. Mathew Philips; my gain is the opportunity it affords me of tendering to you the benefice, which he held by my gift—I perceive you are about to thank me, but I must request that neither you nor your father will oppress me on this occasion—for in making you this offer I do it from my firm persuasion of your fitness, and not merely through my friendship for your worthy father, which, great and sincere although it be, would never bias me against my conscience to commit the charge of souls into the hands of any man, of whose sufficiency I had cause to doubt. Spare yourselves therefore and me the needless ceremony of bestowing thanks, where in reality they are not due; for what would you say, if it should turn out, that I have an object in my view, which would at once convince you, that in serving you I have not overlooked myself?

Name the object, I beseech you, Sir, said Edward; and if you hold me capable of the undertaking, command me!

I perceive you have anticipated my suit, resumed De Lancaster. John, my grandson, is as yet the only stay and support of an antient and not ignoble family. Your father has remonstrated with me on the subject of his neglected education. His motives were friendly, and he made them known: mine for my seeming negligence had reference to the event, which I knew to be impending, and has now come to pass, though I could not in delicacy impart it to him. It was the wish of my heart, dear Edward, to commit the education of my boy to you; but I confess, such is my nature, and so am I constituted, that, until I had it in my power to confer a small favour upon you, I could not ask you to bestow a very great one upon me.

I am deeply sensible, said Edward, of the honour I derive from your good opinion, but I am also aware of the importance and difficulty of the undertaking. That I can teach your grandson Greek and Latin, if he is disposed to learn, there is little doubt; but when I consider that amongst my many duties this perhaps will be the lightest, I must look to you for advice as to the system of education, which you would recommend me to pursue as we advance in what may be called the beaten track of school-learning. I confess to you I see no danger in those studies to the man of deep erudition, but much to the superficial and shallow scholar, for the morality of the heathen writers is not in all respects the morality of the gospel, and the philosophy of the Greeks is in no respect the religion of a christian.

Your observation, said De Lancaster, is perfectly just; but as this is a subject that will require some fore-thought, I will turn it in my mind, and give you my opinion upon the first opportunity, that shall occur. Mr. Philip de Lancaster is now from home, and I think he should by all means be present at our discussion, that if he does not interest himself in what so materially concerns his son, he may at least be convinced that we do.

The topic being thus adjourned, their conversation turned to other subjects, not important to record.