Four Years in France: or, Narrative of an English Family's Residence there during that Period; Preceded by some Account of the Conversion of the Author to the Catholic FaithBeste, Henry Digby
Religion
Four Years in France: or, Narrative of an English Family's Residence there during that Period; Preceded by some Account of the Conversion of the Author to the Catholic Faith
Beste, Henry Digby
France -- Description and travel
We returned to college to be present at the academy-day, and the
distribution of the prizes. Kenelm had been assured that, but for his
illness, one of these prizes would have fallen to his share. I
comforted him as well as I could, quoting--"satis est potuisse videri."
In the spring of the following year, I took my younger son to
Stoneyhurst, in the hope that the brothers would find present pleasure
in each others' company, and hereafter talk over together the scenes of
their boyhood. I observed that Kenelm's spirits appeared depressed: I
questioned him; he assured me he had nothing to complain of: I
interrogated the master: he spoke of Kenelm with great regard, and knew
not that any cause of uneasiness existed for him. I passed three days
with my sons, during which time Kenelm's cheerfulness returned, or
seemed to return; and I left them together.
Towards the end of this year, I finally resolved to put in execution my
long-projected, long-delayed, continental plan. I advised the brothers
of my purpose, who were, of course, delighted with the news. A kind and
much-esteemed friend, who wished to see Stoneyhurst college, brought
them back with him into Lincolnshire at the end of March following.
In the month that intervened between the return of my sons and our
arrival in Paris, the expectation of the journey, the preparation for
the journey, and the journey itself, so far occupied the mind of
Kenelm, that I had not remarked in him any extraordinary want of gaiety:
I perceived only that he was more serious, that his manner was less
frank, and even his carriage less easy than heretofore. At Paris, the
first discovery I made respecting him was that he was become
short-sighted. As we were viewing the statues of the Louvre, he
exclaimed, "I see nothing but blocks of marble;" and he went off
immediately to Chevalier's, the optician, to buy himself a lorgnette. I
sympathized with him, knowing by experience that a short sight deprives
us of a great part of the pleasure of existence, besides being an
incalculable disadvantage in society. He imputed his short-sightedness
to his having imprudently given himself up to study, before his health
was fully re-established after the measles, in the hope of gaining, at
the next academy-day, the medal which he had lost by his illness; that
he had read a great deal by the flaring gas lights with which the
college is illuminated.
Something remained behind, a reserve, a sadness even, which I entreated
him to account for. He gave me his full confidence; and I learned, with
very great sorrow, that, for the last eighteen months of his stay in
college, his mind had been a prey to scruples. This "pious awe, and
fear to have offended," carried to excess through inexperience and a
want of due apprehension that it is by the will only that we
offend,--had destroyed his gaiety, retarded his improvement, and
doubtlessly much injured his health.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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