_ The birth of his son opened Theobald's eyes to a good deal which he
had but faintly realised hitherto. He had had no idea how great a
nuisance a baby was. Babies come into the world so suddenly at the
end, and upset everything so terribly when they do come: why cannot
they steal in upon us with less of a shock to the domestic system?
His wife, too, did not recover rapidly from her confinement; she
remained an invalid for months; here was another nuisance and an
expensive one, which interfered with the amount which Theobald liked
to put by out of his income against, as he said, a rainy day, or to
make provision for his family if he should have one. Now he was
getting a family, so that it became all the more necessary to put
money by, and here was the baby hindering him. Theorists may say
what they like about a man's children being a continuation of his
own identity, but it will generally be found that those who talk in
this way have no children of their own. Practical family men know
better.
About twelve months after the birth of Ernest there came a second,
also a boy, who was christened Joseph, and in less than twelve
months afterwards, a girl, to whom was given the name of Charlotte.
A few months before this girl was born Christina paid a visit to the
John Pontifexes in London, and, knowing her condition, passed a good
deal of time at the Royal Academy exhibition looking at the types of
female beauty portrayed by the Academicians, for she had made up her
mind that the child this time was to be a girl. Alethea warned her
not to do this, but she persisted, and certainly the child turned
out plain, but whether the pictures caused this or no I cannot say.
Theobald had never liked children. He had always got away from them
as soon as he could, and so had they from him; oh, why, he was
inclined to ask himself, could not children be born into the world
grown up? If Christina could have given birth to a few full-grown
clergymen in priest's orders--of moderate views, but inclining
rather to Evangelicalism, with comfortable livings and in all
respects facsimiles of Theobald himself--why, there might have been
more sense in it; or if people could buy ready-made children at a
shop of whatever age and sex they liked, instead of always having to
make them at home and to begin at the beginning with them--that
might do better, but as it was he did not like it. He felt as he
had felt when he had been required to come and be married to
Christina--that he had been going on for a long time quite nicely,
and would much rather continue things on their present footing. In
the matter of getting married he had been obliged to pretend he
liked it; but times were changed, and if he did not like a thing
now, he could find a hundred unexceptionable ways of making his
dislike apparent.
It might have been better if Theobald in his younger days had kicked
more against his father: the fact that he had not done so
encouraged him to expect the most implicit obedience from his own
children. He could trust himself, he said (and so did Christina),
to be more lenient than perhaps his father had been to himself; his
danger, he said (and so again did Christina), would be rather in the
direction of being too indulgent; he must be on his guard against
this, for no duty could be more important than that of teaching a
child to obey its parents in all things.
He had read not long since of an Eastern traveller, who, while
exploring somewhere in the more remote parts of Arabia and Asia
Minor, had come upon a remarkably hardy, sober, industrious little
Christian community--all of them in the best of health--who had
turned out to be the actual living descendants of Jonadab, the son
of Rechab; and two men in European costume, indeed, but speaking
English with a broken accent, and by their colour evidently
Oriental, had come begging to Battersby soon afterwards, and
represented themselves as belonging to this people; they had said
they were collecting funds to promote the conversion of their fellow
tribesmen to the English branch of the Christian religion. True,
they turned out to be impostors, for when he gave them a pound and
Christina five shillings from her private purse, they went and got
drunk with it in the next village but one to Battersby; still, this
did not invalidate the story of the Eastern traveller. Then there
were the Romans--whose greatness was probably due to the wholesome
authority exercised by the head of a family over all its members.
Some Romans had even killed their children; this was going too far,
but then the Romans were not Christians, and knew no better.
The practical outcome of the foregoing was a conviction in
Theobald's mind, and if in his, then in Christina's, that it was
their duty to begin training up their children in the way they
should go, even from their earliest infancy. The first signs of
self-will must be carefully looked for, and plucked up by the roots
at once before they had time to grow. Theobald picked up this numb
serpent of a metaphor and cherished it in his bosom.
Before Ernest could well crawl he was taught to kneel; before he
could well speak he was taught to lisp the Lord's prayer, and the
general confession. How was it possible that these things could be
taught too early? If his attention flagged or his memory failed
him, here was an ill weed which would grow apace, unless it were
plucked out immediately, and the only way to pluck it out was to
whip him, or shut him up in a cupboard, or dock him of some of the
small pleasures of childhood. Before he was three years old he
could read and, after a fashion, write. Before he was four he was
learning Latin, and could do rule of three sums.
As for the child himself, he was naturally of an even temper, he
doted upon his nurse, on kittens and puppies, and on all things that
would do him the kindness of allowing him to be fond of them. He
was fond of his mother, too, but as regards his father, he has told
me in later life he could remember no feeling but fear and
shrinking. Christina did not remonstrate with Theobald concerning
the severity of the tasks imposed upon their boy, nor yet as to the
continual whippings that were found necessary at lesson times.
Indeed, when during any absence of Theobald's the lessons were
entrusted to her, she found to her sorrow that it was the only thing
to do, and she did it no less effectually than Theobald himself,
nevertheless she was fond of her boy, which Theobald never was, and
it was long before she could destroy all affection for herself in
the mind of her first-born. But she persevered. _