The Mill on the Floss

"First

of those mean accomplishments. He was not going to be a snuffy schoolmaster, he, but a substantial man, like his father, who used to go hunting when he was younger, and rode a capital black mare,–as pretty a bit of horse-flesh as ever you saw; Tom had heard what her points were a hundred times. He meant to go hunting too, and to be generally respected. When people were grown up, he considered, nobody inquired about their writing and spelling; when he was a man, he should be master of everything, and do just as he liked. It had been very difficult for him to reconcile himself to the idea that his school-time was to be prolonged and that he was not to be brought up to his father's business, which he had always thought extremely pleasant; for it was nothing but riding about, giving orders, and going to market; and

Mrs. Stelling was so great, that he even dreaded to be asked at table whether he would have more pudding. As to the percussion-caps, he had almost resolved, in the bitterness of his heart, that he would throw them into a neighboring pond; for not only was he the solitary pupil, but he began even to have a certain scepticism about guns, and a general sense that his theory of life was undermined. For Mr. S

short of the miraculous in rural parishes like King's Lorton. Some passages of Massillon and Bourdaloue, which he knew by heart, were really very effective when rolled out in Mr. Stelling's deepest tones; but as comparatively feeble appeals of his own were delivered in the same loud and impressive manner, they were often thought quite as striking by his hearers. Mr. Stelling's doctrine was of no particular school; if anything, it had a tinge of evangelicalism, for that was "the telling thing" just then in the diocese to which King's Lorton belonged. In short, Mr. Stelling was a man who meant to rise in his profession, and to rise by merit, clearly, since he had no interest beyond what might be promised by a problematic relationship to a great lawyer who had not yet become Lord Chancellor. A clergyman who has such vigorous intentions naturally gets a little into debt at starting; it is not to be expected that he will live in the meagre style of a man who means to be a poor curate all his life; and if the fe

om at table, and corrected his provincialisms and his deportment in the most playful manner; but poor Tom was only the more cowed and confused by this double novelty, for he had never been used to jokes at all like Mr. Stelling's; and for the first time in his life he had a painful sense that he was all wrong somehow. When Mr. Stelling said, as the roast-beef was being uncovered, "Now, Tulliver! which would you rather decline, roast-beef or the Latin for it?" Tom, to whom in his coolest moments a pun would have been a hard nut, was thrown into a state of embarrassed alarm that made everything dim to him except the feeling that he would rather not have anything to do with Latin; of course he answered, "Roast-beef," whereupon there fol

ay affairs of this life. Except Counsellor Wylde, whom he had heard at the last sessions, Mr. Tulliver thought the Rev. Mr Stelling was the shrewdest fellow he had ever met with,–not unlike Wylde, in fact; he had the same way of sticking his thumbs in the armholes of his waistcoat. Mr. Tulliver was not by any means an exception in mistaking brazenness for shrewdness; most laymen thought Stelling shrewd, and a man of remarkable powers generally; it was chiefly by his clerical brethren that he was considered rather a dull fellow. But he told Mr. Tulliver several stories about "Swing" and incendiarism, and asked his ad

ough so young a woman, and only anticipating her second confinement, had gone through very nearly the same experience as herself with regard to the behavior and fundamental character of the monthly nurse

ything's as nice as can be all over the house, and that watered sil

Tom 'ull be another hundred to him, and not much trouble either, by his own account; he says teaching comes natural to him. Th

ation were mere charlatanism, and could produce nothing better than smatterers. Fixed on this firm basis, a man might observe the display of various or special knowledge made by irregularly educated people with a pitying smile; all that sort of thing was very well, but it was impossible these people could form sound opinions. In holding this conviction Mr. Stelling was not biassed, as some tutors have been, by the excessive accuracy or extent of his own scholarship; and as to his views about Euclid, no opinion could have been freer from personal partiality. Mr. Stelling was very far from being led astray by enthusiasm, either religious or intellectual; on the other hand, he had no secret belief that everything was humbug. He thought religion was a very excellent thing, and Aristotle a great authority, and deaneries and prebends useful institutio

ould take to reach across the playground, and could draw almost perfect squares on his slate without any measurement. But Mr. Stelling took no note of these things; he only observed that Tom's faculties failed him before the abstractions hideously symbolized to him in the pages of the Eton Grammar, and that he was in a state bordering on idiocy with regard to the demonstration that two given triangles must be equal, though he could discern with great promptitude and certainty the fact that they were equal. Whence Mr. Stelling concluded that Tom's brain, being peculiarly impervious to etymology and demonstrations, was peculiarly in need of being ploughed and harrowed by these patent implements; it was his favorite metaphor, that the classics and geometry constituted that culture of the mind which prepared it for the reception of any subsequent crop. I say nothing against Mr. Stelling's theory; if we are to have one regimen for all minds, his seems to me as good as any other. I only know it turned out as uncomfortably for Tom Tulliver as i

split trunk of an ash-tree in order to cure lameness in cattle. It is doubtless almost incredible to instructed minds of the present day that a boy of twelve, not belonging strictly to "the masses," who are now understood to have the monopoly of mental darkness, should have had no distinct idea how there came to be such a thing as Latin on this earth; yet so it was with Tom. It would have taken a long while to make conceivable to him that there ever existed a people who bought and sold sheep and oxen, and transacted the every-day affairs of life, through the medium of this l

ecklessness in his nature; the human sensibilities predominated, and if it had occurred to him that he could enable himself to show some quickness at his lessons, and so acquire Mr. Stelling's approbation, by standing on one leg for an inconvenient length of time, or rapping his head moderately against the wall, or any voluntary action of that sort, he would certainly have tried it. But no; Tom had never heard that these measures would brighten the understanding, or strengthen the verbal memory; and he was not given to hypothesis and experiment. It did occur to him that he could perhaps get some help by praying for it; but as the prayers he said every evening were forms learned by heart, he rather shrank from the novelty and irregularity of introducing an extempore passage on a topic of petition for which he was not aware of any precedent. But one day, when he had broken down, for the fifth time, in the supines of the third

stitute a nodus worthy of interference, and since this was the climax of his difficulties, where was the use of praying for help any longer? He made up his mind to this conclusion in one of his dull, lonely evenings, which he spent in the study, preparing his lessons for the morrow. His eyes were apt to get dim over the page, though he hated crying, and was ashamed of it; he couldn't help thinking with some affection ev

ing the minutes in which she chose to walk; but as these were rare, he was for the most part carrying this fine child round and round the garden, within sight of Mrs. Stelling's window, according to orders. If any one considers this unfair and even oppressive toward Tom, I beg him to consider that there are feminine virtues which are with difficulty combined, even if they are not incompatible. When the wife of a poor curate contrives, under all her disadvantages, to dress extremely well, and to have a style of coiffure which requires that her nurse shall occasionally officiate as lady's-maid; when, moreover, her dinner-parties and her drawing-room show that effort at elegance and completeness of appointment to which ordinary women might imagine a large income necessary, it would be unreasonable to expect of her that she should employ a second nurse, or even act as a nurse her

th haughtiness of manner, and a frequent reference to other people's "duty." But he couldn't help playing with little Laura, and liking to amuse her; he even sacrificed his percussion-caps for her sake, in despair of their ever serving a greater purpose,–thinking the small flash and bang would delight her, and thereby drawing down on himself a rebuke from Mrs. Stelling for

ay with her brother; so when Mr. Tulliver drove over to King's Lorton late in October, Maggie came too, with the sense that she was taking a grea

room to announce the arrival to his wife, and Maggie had begu

e had looked

I wish you'd ask Mr. Stelling not to let me do

only malady to which To

hy, what's that?"

oms, and triangles, and things. It's a book

stn't say so. You must learn what your master tel

izing consolation. "I'm come to stay ever so long, if Mrs. Stellin

uite enjoyed the idea of confounding Maggie by showing her a page of Euclid. "I should like to see y

onfidently, "Latin's a language. There are Latin

secretly astonished. "You think you're very wise! But '

. "It may mean several things; almost every word does. There's 'lawn,'–it m

h Maggie's knowingness, though beyond measure cheerful at the thought that she was going

she stole her dark eyes from, insisted that she must stay a fortnight. Maggie thought Mr. Stelling was a charming man, and Mr. Tulliver was quite proud to leave his little we

head now for, you silly?" he continued; for though her hair was now under a new dispensation, and was brushed smoothly be

, Tom. Oh, what books!" she exclaimed, as she saw the bookcases

of 'em," said Tom, triumph

read the back of this,–'History of the

an? You don't know," sai

find out," said

y,

nside, and see w

d on the volume. "Mr. Stelling lets nobody touch his book

said Maggie, turning to throw her arms round Tom's

from behind her ears, and twirled about like an animated mop. But the revolutions round the table became more and more irregular in their sweep, till at last reaching Mr. Stelling's reading stand, they sent it thundering down with its heavy lexicon

e stand, "we must keep quiet here, you know. If we b

hat?" sai

scolding," said Tom, not with

oss woman?"

said Tom, with

gie. "Aunt Glegg's a great deal crosser than uncle

an some day," said Tom

lever woman," said

nasty conceited thing.

Tom; it'll be very wicked of y

nasty disagreeable t

I shall be very good to you, and I shall be good to

ile she pushed her hair behind her ears, and prepared herself to prove her capability of helping him in Euclid. She began to read with full confidence in her own powers

"and very ugly stuff; nobod

the book away, and wagging his head at her, "You

say I could make it out, if I'd le

what goes before; for then you've got to say what definition 3 is, and what axiom V. is. But get al

ext,–like strange horns of beasts, and leaves of unknown plants, brought from some far-off region,–gave boundless scope to her imagination, and were all the more fascinating because they were in a peculiar tongue of their own, which she could learn to interpret. It was really very interesting, the Latin Grammar that Tom had said no girls could learn; and she was proud because she found it in

agsie, give u

e large arm-chair to give it him; "it's much prettier than the Dictio

aid Tom; "you've been reading the Engl

say that he had a lesson to learn which no donkeys would find themselves equal to. Magg

nd hear if I can say this. Stand at that end of th

d, and took

o you be

um,' because I say all over again

to forget her office of prompter in speculating as to what mas could

t etiam volucrum–Sunt etiam

opening her mouth a

he next words might be expected to come sooner when h

d Maggie, gett

irundo; Ferarum–ferarum––" Tom took his pencil and made

m," said Maggie, "wha

ostr

id Maggie, "

it was tigris, vulpes, I'd forgotte

ng and repetition, Tom got

hat I've just learned for to-morrow.

isted by the beating of his fist o

omina in a

t doesn't come next. It's No

terday's lesson, and a young gentleman does not require an intimate or extensive acquaintance with Latin before

ou didn't remember it at all. I'm su

s couldn't learn Latin. It's

don't mind your stops. For you ought to stop twice as long at a semicolon as you do

n't chatter.

Stelling, who, she felt sure, admired her cleverness, that Tom was rather amazed and alarmed at her audacity. But she was

oddity was not at all to Maggie's taste. She feared that Mr. Stelling, after all, did not think much of her, and went to bed in rat

s readings got very deep into the examples in the Latin Grammar. The astronomer who hated women generally caused her so much puzzling speculation that

live up in high towers, and if the women came there the

e to go to school to Mr. Stelling, as he did, and learn just the same things. She knew she could do Eu

now," said Tom; "and I'll just

e little conceited minx

ere in the drawing-room, "couldn't I do Euclid, and all

m, indignantly. "Girls can'

Stelling. "They've a great deal of superficial cleverness; but

As for Maggie, she had hardly ever been so mortified. She had been so proud to be called "quick" all her little life

lone; "you see it's not such a fine thing to be q

y this dreadful destiny that

ng so many questions about the Roman Empire, and whether there really ever was a man who said, in Latin, "I would not buy it for a farthing or a rotten nut," or whether that had only been turned into Latin, that Tom had actually come to a dim understanding of the fact that there had onc

e August sunshine; and that he might make himself the surer about the flight of the days that were carrying him homeward, he stuck twenty-one sticks deep in a corner of the garden, when he was three weeks fr

ity; we accepted and loved it as we accepted our own sense of existence and our own limbs. Very commonplace, even ugly, that furniture of our early home might look if it were put up to auction; an improved taste in upholstery scorns it; and is not the striving after something better and better in our surroundings the grand characteristic that distinguishes man from the brute, or, to satisfy a scrupulous accuracy of definition, that distinguishes the British man from the foreign brute? But heaven knows where that striving might lead us, if our affections had not a trick of twining round those old inferior things; if the loves and sanctities of our life had no deep immovable roots in memory. One's