Chapter20

philipwasmovedintothesixth,buthehatedschoolnowwithallhisheart,and,havinglosthis

ambition,carednothingwhetherhedidillorwell.heawokeinthemorningwithasinkingheartbecausehemustgothroughanotherdayofdrudgery.hewastiredofhavingtodothingsbecausehewastold;andtherestrictionsirkedhim,notbecausetheywereunreasonable,butbecausetheywererestrictions.heyearnedforfreedom.hewaswearyofrepeatingthingsthatheknewalreadyandofthehammeringaway,forthesakeofathick-wittedfellow,atsomethingthatheunderstoodfromthebeginning.

withmr.perkinsyoucouldworkornotasyouchose.hewasatonceeagerandabstracted.thesixthformroomwasinapartoftheoldabbeywhichhadbeenrestored,andithadagothicwindow:philiptriedtocheathisboredombydrawingthisoverandoveragain;andsometimesoutofhisheadhedrewthegreattowerofthecathedralorthegatewaythatledintotheprecincts.hehadaknackfordrawing.auntlouisaduringheryouthhadpaintedinwatercolours,andshehadseveralalbumsfilledwithsketchesofchurches,oldbridges,andpicturesquecottages.theywereoftenshownatthevicaragetea-parties.shehadoncegivenphilipapaint-boxasachristmaspresent,andhehadstartedbycopyingherpictures.hecopiedthembetterthananyonecouldhaveexpected,andpresentlyhedidlittlepicturesofhisown.mrs.careyencouragedhim.itwasagoodwaytokeephimoutofmischief,andlateronhissketcheswouldbeusefulforbazaars.twoorthreeofthemhadbeenframedandhunginhisbed-room.

butoneday,attheendofthemorning’swork,mr.perkinsstoppedhimashewasloungingoutoftheform-room.

“iwanttospeaktoyou,carey.”  philipwaited.mr.perkinsranhisleanfingersthroughhisbeardandlookedatphilip.heseemedtobethinkingoverwhathewantedtosay.

“what’sthematterwithyou,carey?”hesaid

abruptly.

philip,flushing,lookedathimquickly.butknowinghimwellbynow,withoutanswering,hewaitedforhimtogoon.

“i’vebeendissatisfiedwithyoulately.you’vebeenslackandinattentive.youseemtotakenointerestinyourwork.it’sbeenslovenlyandbad.”

“i’mverysorry,sir,”saidphilip.

“isthatallyouhavetosayforyourself?”

philiplookeddownsulkily.howcouldheanswerthathewasboredtodeath?

“youknow,thistermyou’llgodowninsteadofup.ishan’tgiveyouaverygoodreport.”

philipwonderedwhathewouldsayifheknewhowthereportwastreated.itarrivedatbreakfast,mr.careyglancedatitindifferently,andpasseditovertophilip.

“there’syourreport.you’dbetterseewhatitsays,”heremarked,asheranhisfingersthroughthewrapperofacatalogueofsecond-handbooks.

philipreadit.

“isitgood?”askedauntlouisa.

“notsogoodasideserve,”answeredphilip,withasmile,givingittoher.

“i’llreaditafterwardswheni’vegotmyspectacles,”shesaid.

butafterbreakfastmaryanncameintosaythebutcherwasthere,andshegenerallyforgot.

mr.perkinswenton.

“i’mdisappointedwithyou.andican’tunderstand.iknowyoucandothingsifyouwantto,butyoudon’tseemtowanttoanymore.iwasgoingtomakeyouamonitornextterm,butithinki’dbetterwaitabit.”

philipflushed.hedidnotlikethethoughtofbeingpassedover.hetightenedhislips.

“andthere’ssomethingelse.youmustbeginthinkingofyourscholarshipnow.youwon’tgetanythingunlessyoustartworkingveryseriously.”

philipwasirritatedbythelecture.hewasangrywiththeheadmaster,andangrywithhimself.

“idon’tthinki’mgoinguptooxford,”hesaid.

“whynot?ithoughtyourideawastobeordained.”

“i’vechangedmymind.”

“why?”

philipdidnotanswer.mr.perkins,holdinghimselfoddlyashealwaysdid,likeafigureinoneofperugino’spictures,drewhisfingersthoughtfullythroughhisbeard.helookedatphilipasthoughheweretryingtounderstandandthenabruptlytoldhimhemightgo.

apparentlyhewasnotsatisfied,foroneevening,aweeklater,whenphiliphadtogointohisstudywithsomepapers,heresumedtheconversation;butthistimeheadoptedadifferentmethod:hespoketophilipnotasaschoolmasterwithaboybutasonehumanbeingwithanother.hedidnotseemtocarenowthatphilip’sworkwaspoor,thatheransmallchanceagainstkeenrivalsofcarryingoffthescholarshipnecessaryforhimtogotooxford:theimportantmatterwashischangedintentionabouthislifeafterwards.mr.perkinssethimselftorevivehiseagernesstobeordained.withinfiniteskillheworkedonhisfeelings,andthiswaseasiersincehewashimselfgenuinelymoved.philip’schangeofmindcausedhimbitterdistress,andhereallythoughthewasthrowingawayhischanceofhappinessinlifeforheknewnotwhat.hisvoicewasverypersuasive.andphilip,easilymovedbytheemotionofothers,veryemotionalhimselfnotwithstandingaplacidexterior—hisface,partlybynaturebutalsofromthehabitofalltheseyearsatschool,seldomexceptbyhisquickflushingshowedwhathefelt—philipwasdeeplytouchedbywhatthemastersaid.hewasverygratefultohimfortheinterestheshowed,andhewasconscience-strickenbythegriefwhichhefelthisbehaviourcausedhim.itwassubtlyflatteringtoknowthatwiththewholeschooltothinkaboutmr.perkinsshouldtroublewithhim,butatthesametimesomethingelseinhim,likeanotherpersonstandingathiselbow,clungdesperatelytotwowords.

“iwon’t.iwon’t.iwon’t.”

hefelthimselfslipping.hewaspowerlessagainsttheweaknessthatseemedtowellupinhim;itwaslikethewaterthatrisesupinanemptybottleheldoverafullbasin;andhesethisteeth,sayingthewordsoverandovertohimself.

“iwon’t.iwon’t.iwon’t.”

atlastmr.perkinsputhishandonphilip’sshoulder.

“idon’twanttoinfluenceyou,”hesaid.“youmustdecideforyourself.praytoalmightygodforhelpandguidance.”

whenphilipcameoutoftheheadmaster’shousetherewasalightrainfalling.hewentunderthearchwaythatledtotheprecincts,therewasnotasoulthere,andtherooksweresilentintheelms.hewalkedroundslowly.hefelthot,andtheraindidhimgood.hethoughtoverallthatmr.perkinshadsaid,calmlynowthathewaswithdrawnfromthefervourofhispersonality,andhewasthankfulhehadnotgivenway.

inthedarknesshecouldbutvaguelyseethegreatmassofthecathedral:hehateditnowbecauseoftheirksomenessofthelongserviceswhichhewasforcedtoattend.theanthemwasinterminable,andyouhadtostanddrearilywhileitwasbeingsung;youcouldnothearthedroningsermon,andyourbodytwitchedbecauseyouhadtositstillwhenyouwantedtomoveabout.thenphilipthoughtofthetwoserviceseverysundayatblackstable.thechurchwasbareandcold,andtherewasasmellallaboutoneofpomadeandstarchedclothes.thecuratepreachedonceandhisunclepreachedonce.ashegrewuphehadlearnedtoknowhisuncle;philipwasdownrightandintolerant,andhecouldnotunderstandthatamanmightsincerelysaythingsasaclergymanwhichheneveracteduptoasaman.thedeceptionoutragedhim.hisunclewasaweakandselfishman,whosechiefdesireitwastobesavedtrouble.

mr.perkinshadspokentohimofthebeautyofalifededicatedtotheserviceofgod.philipknewwhatsortoflivestheclergyledinthecornerofeastangliawhichwashishome.therewasthevicarofwhitestone,aparishalittlewayfromblackstable:hewasabachelorandtogivehimselfsomethingtodohadlatelytakenupfarming:thelocalpaperconstantlyreportedthecaseshehadinthecountycourtagainstthisoneandthat,labourershewouldnotpaytheirwagestoortradesmenwhomheaccusedofcheatinghim;scandalsaidhestarvedhiscows,andtherewasmuchtalkaboutsomegeneralactionwhichshouldbetakenagainsthim.thentherewasthevicarofferne,abearded,finefigureofaman:hiswifehadbeenforcedtoleavehimbecauseofhiscruelty,andshehadfilledtheneighbourhoodwithstoriesofhisimmorality.thevicarofsurle,atinyhamletbythesea,wastobeseeneveryeveninginthepublichouseastone’sthrowfromhisvicarage;andthechurchwardenshadbeentomr.careytoaskhisadvice.therewasnotasoulforanyofthemtotalktoexceptsmallfarmersorfishermen;therewerelongwintereveningswhenthewindblew,whistlingdrearilythroughtheleaflesstrees,andallaroundtheysawnothingbutthebaremonotonyofploughedfields;andtherewaspoverty,andtherewaslackofanyworkthatseemedtomatter;everykinkintheircharactershadfreeplay;therewasnothingtorestrainthem;theygrewnarrowandeccentric:philipknewallthis,butinhisyoungintolerancehedidnotofferitasanexcuse.heshiveredatthethoughtofleadingsuchalife;hewantedtogetoutintotheworld.