of Olives, eh? I'm not very good at climbing up a hill, Master George; you must remember the difference between twenty-three and sixty-three. What is there to see there?"
What was there to see there! This was said in a tone which made George feel rather indisposed to describe, if describe he could, what there was there to be seen. He had quite wit enough to perceive that his father was not enthusiastic about Bible history.
And then they changed the conversation, and began to talk about George Bertram the elder.
"It's eighteen years since I've seen my brother," said Sir Lionel. "He was usually cross enough then. I suppose he has hardly improved?"
"I can't exactly call him cross. He has been very kind to me, you know."
"Kind – well. If you are contented, I am; but, considering that you are his natural heir, I don't think he has done so very much. If he means to be kind, why does he bother me every other month with a long account, of which the postage comes to heaven knows how much?"
"Ah! but, sir, I am not his heir."
"Not his heir!" said Sir Lionel, with more of sharpness in his tone than was at all usual with him; with a little sharpness also in his eye, as George quickly observed. "Not his heir – who is his heir then?"
"Ah, that I do not know. Some corporation, perhaps, or some hospital. All I know is, that I am not. That he has told me quite plainly. And he was very right to do so," added George, after a pause.
Sir Lionel repressed the exclamation of anger against his brother which was in his heart, and had all but risen to his tongue. He had not been wandering for thirty years on foreign missions for nothing. He must find out more of this lad's disposition and feelings before he spoke out plainly before him what he thought. He had intended not only that his son should be the rich uncle's heir, but the rich uncle's adopted child also; so that some portion of that vast wealth might be made use of, certainly by George, perhaps even in some modest degree by himself, without the unnecessary delay of waiting for his brother's death. It would be bad enough to wait, seeing how probable it was that that brother might outlive himself. But now to be told not only that his hopes in this respect were vain, but that the old miser had absolutely repudiated his connection with his nephew! This was almost too much for his diplomatic equanimity. Almost, I say; for in fact he did restrain himself.
"And did he say, George, in so many words that he meant to give you nothing?"
"Yes, very plainly – in so many words. And I told him as plainly, and in as many, that I wanted nothing from him."
"Was that prudent, my boy?"
"It was the truth, sir. But I must tell you the whole. He offered me a loan of three thousand pounds – "
"Well, you took that?"
"Indeed, no. He offered it on the condition that I should be an attorney."
"An attorney! and you with a double-first?"
"Ah, he does not much value double-firsts. Of course, I was not going to make myself an attorney."
"Of course not. But what is he doing about an allowance for you?"
"He has been very liberal. He has given me a hundred and fifty a year – "
"Yes; and sent me the bill of it – with great regularity."
The son did not remind the father that all regularity in the matter had ended there, and that the bills so sent had never been paid; but he could not help thinking that in justice he might do so.
"But that expense will soon be over, sir, as regards either you or him. The allowance will be discontinued next year."
"What! he is going to stop even that school-boy's pittance?"
"Why not, sir? I have no claim on him. And as he has not forgotten to tell me so once or twice – "
"He was always a vulgar fellow," said Sir Lionel. "How he came to have such a spirit of trade in his very blood, I can't conceive. God knows I have none of it."
"Nor I either, sir."
"Well, I hope not. But does he expect you to live upon air? This is bad news, George – very bad."
"Of course I have always intended to go into a profession. I have never looked at it in the same light as you do. I have always intended to make my own way, and have no doubt that I shall do so. I have quite made up my mind about it now."
"About what, George?"
"I shall go into orders, and take a college living."
"Orders!" said Sir Lionel; and he expressed more surprise and almost more disgust at this idea than at that other one respecting the attorney scheme.
"Yes; I have been long doubting; but I think I have made up my mind."
"Do you mean that you wish to be a parson, and that after taking a double-first?"
"I don't see what the double-first has to do with it, sir. The only objection I have is the system of the establishment. I do not like the established church."
"Then why go into it?" said Sir Lionel, not at all understanding the nature of his son's objection.
"I love our liturgy, and I like the ritual; but what we want is the voluntary principle. I do not like to put myself in a position which I can, in fact, hold whether I do the duties of it or no. Nor do I wish – "
"Well; I understand very little about all that; but, George, I had hoped something better for you. Now, the army is a beggarly profession unless a man has a private fortune; but, upon my word, I look on the church as the worst of the two. A man may be a bishop of course; but I take it he has to eat a deal of dirt first."
"I don't mean to eat any dirt," said the son.
"Nor to be a bishop, perhaps," replied the father.
They were quite unable to understand each other on this subject. In Sir Lionel's view of the matter, a profession was – a profession. The word was understood well enough throughout the known world. It signified a calling by which a gentleman, not born to the inheritance of a gentleman's allowance of good things, might ingeniously obtain the same by some exercise of his abilities. The more of these good things that might be obtained, the better the profession; the easier the labour also, the better the profession; the less restriction that might be laid on a man in his pleasurable enjoyment of the world, the better the profession. This was Sir Lionel's view of a profession, and it must be acknowledged that, though his view was commonplace, it was also common sense; that he looked at the matter as a great many people look at it; and that his ideas were at any rate sufficiently intelligible. But George Bertram's view was different, and much less easy of explanation. He had an idea that in choosing a profession he should consider, not so much how he should get the means of spending his life, but how he should in fact spend it. He would have, in making this choice, to select the pursuit to which he would devote that amount of power and that amount of life which God should allot to him. Fathers and mothers, uncles and aunts, guardians and grandfathers, was not this a singular view for a young man to take in looking at such a subject?
But in truth George was somewhat afflicted by a tête monté in this matter. I say afflicted, because, having imagination and ideality to lead him to high views, he had not a sufficient counterbalance in his firmness of character.
