Incidents of childhood by Anonymous - HTML preview

VIII.
 THE TINNER’S SON.

On the roads in Cornwall that lead from the copper mines to the sea-port towns, one often meets large droves of mules, driven by a man and one or two boys. Each mule has a wooden saddle, across which two sacks are placed, filled with copper ore. The ore is emptied into large bins, not far from the sea-side; whence it is afterwards taken in small vessels, by sea, to Swansea; and there it is melted ready for use. The copper ore, before it is sent in this way from the mine, is broken small, washed, and pounded; it then looks like dark greenish fine mould, or earth.

Thomas Trewellan was employed, along with a man and another boy, in driving mules from a copper mine, in the western part of Cornwall, to a small sea-port town on the northern coast: he went and returned with the drove once every day.

Thomas had usually an hour or two of leisure in the evening: this time he employed in learning writing and arithmetic: his father was a tinner, that is to say, a miner, and like many others, he had acquired a good deal of knowledge. He gave his son all the instruction that he could; and Thomas, beside being able to read with propriety, and to write a fair hand, knew something of Geometry, Algebra, and Mechanics. Instead of being, like some boys, who think themselves unhappy because they are obliged to learn, and who would be content to spend all their time in play; Thomas employed every opportunity for improving his mind. While the man who had the charge of the drove of mules was transacting business in the town, Thomas would take his book to a niche in the rock that hung over the sea; where he would spend half an hour, or sometimes an hour, in study: and perhaps he might learn as much in this short time as some boys do in a whole day; though they have masters to teach them every thing.

Thomas was not often interrupted in the place he had chosen for his study, because it could only be approached by a very rugged, steep, and difficult path. One day, however, he heard some one scrambling up the path, and uttering many exclamations which he could not at all understand. Presently afterwards, a lad about his own size came up. Thomas was quite startled by his odd appearance; for he wore a red cap with a blue tassel; he had gold rings in his ears, and on his fingers; he wore several waist-coats of different colours,—a striped green jacket, and full petticoats reaching to the knees; with large high boots. Thomas stared at this strange figure, and shut his book. The boy said something, as though he meant to ask a question. “Nan!” said Thomas. After muttering a word or two more, the boy turned round, and descended the way he came. As soon as he was gone, Thomas recollected that he heard that, since the late peace with France, fishing boats from Normandy sometimes put into the harbour, when the weather was rough, or the wind contrary. He guessed, therefore, that the boy he had just seen must belong to one of these boats: and looking out to sea, he perceived two or three odd looking boats lying at anchor, about a league from the shore; and he learned from the sailors on the pier that they were French fishing boats.

As he rode home, Thomas began to consider the reason why he and the French boy could not understand each other. He did not know a word of any language except English; and he had never before thought on the subject. He remembered to have heard that the people in France speak French; and he had heard too, the son of the captain of the mine talk about learning Latin; but he had no clear notion of what was meant by another language. “I suppose,” said he to himself, “speaking French, or speaking Latin, means calling things by different names to what we do.” But this seemed strange, and difficult to be imagined; for he had always believed that Horse, was really the name for a horse; and House, the name for a house: “and why,” thought he, “should people call things by names that are not their real names.” While he was puzzling himself in this way, it came into his mind, that his Father and Mother, and he himself, sometimes, used what were called old Cornish words, quite different from the common names of things; and that it seemed almost as natural to him to use one sort of word as another; this seemed to clear up his difficulties; and he began to feel a strong desire to learn French, or some other language.

In the evening, when he went home, Thomas described to his Father the dress and appearance of the French boy whom he had seen; and he afterwards hinted at the subject of his meditations as he rode home. “Father,” said he, “do you think one could any how learn French, the same as one learns Geometry; could’nt I get a book that would tell me all about it.” “Ah, Thomas,” said his Father, “what you are thinking about they call grammars and dictionaries, and so forth: but in such things I can’t help you. You’ll make no hand of it, I can tell you; beside, I don’t see it would be any sort of use to a tinner. Geometry and Mechanics, you know, are in our line; but French and Latin would do you no good in the world.”

But Thomas was not entirely discouraged by what his father said. John Dawson, the son of the captain of the mine, was just then at home during the holidays: the next time Thomas met him, he accosted him, by saying, “Be so good, Master John, as just to tell me a little about Grammar, or French, or Latin, or something of that sort,—what you learn at school.” John was never very willing to be put in mind of his learning in holiday time; it was bad enough, he thought, to be obliged to attend to it at school. But as he was a good tempered boy, he would not refuse to give Thomas some sort of answer to his question.

“Well then, Thomas,” said he, “listen:—hic, hæc, hoc:—that is Grammar and Latin too: will that content you?”

“That does not make me understand any thing about it,” said Thomas.

“As in præsenti, perfectum format in avi,” said John.

“Please to tell me what all those words mean, Master John,” said Thomas.

“Very well: but you must pay attention, because I can’t tell you more than once. As, in, in, præsenti, the present tense, perfectum, the perfect, format, forms, in, in avi:—will that do?”

“Thank you, Master John.” Thomas found that he was not likely to gain any assistance from his young master, and therefore he asked him no more questions.

A few days after, as he was walking on the pier, Thomas perceived that two of the French fishing boats had put into the harbour, and were undergoing some repair. While he was waiting, therefore, he loitered about where these boats were lying, that he might listen to the conversation of the men: once or twice he spoke to them, to find out if any of them understood English; but they only shook their heads, or did not pay any attention to him.

“Now,” said Thomas to himself, “suppose that one of these men would be willing to teach me the French names of things:—let me consider how we should manage:—Why, I would point to something, and then he should tell me the name of it in French; and I would write it down just as he spoke it:—that would be easy enough: for instance, then, I would point to a ship, or to my hat, or to a tree; and so on. But suppose I wanted to know the French word for wood; then I must point to a post, or a tree, or a piece of timber: but then, most likely, he would tell me the French word that means a post, or a tree, or timber, and not the word that means wood. Or if I wanted to know the name for iron, in French; I must point to an anchor, or a nail, or a saw: but how would that make him understand that I wanted to know the French for iron?” Thomas was greatly perplexed by these difficulties. He found out what he had never before attended to, that most things are called by several different names; and that very different things are called by the same name:—thus, for instance, a wedge is called—a wedge, and it is called a tool, and it is called iron: and so a dog is called Cæsar, or a dog, or an animal, or a brute; and so a mouse, and a cow, and a lion, are all called animals, though they are so very different from each other.

“I wonder whether there is any such thing as a book that has rows of words like the spelling-book, with the proper French word put against every English word;—this would make it very easy.” It seemed to him probable that there might be some such book, and he determined the next day to make inquiry on the subject at the old book-stall, where he had bought the few tattered volumes which formed his library. He had made acquaintance with the man who kept the stall. “Pray, Mr. Moth,” said Thomas, “have you any French books here?”

“French books, Thomas; let me see,” said Mr. Moth, as he took a parcel of torn and dusty books from a box under his stall. “I can’t say that I have a French book of any sort, just now; but here is a Latin book, if that will do as well; and a very famous book it is too, writ by Cicero,—as great a man as lives—so they tell me, that are scholars.”

Thomas had no particular reason for wishing to learn French rather than Latin, and therefore he desired to look at the book. Mr. Moth had put on his spectacles, and seemed to be studying the title page. “It is called,” said he, “M. Tullii Ciceronis de Officiis libri tres;—that is to say, Tully’s Offices, in three books—and so forth;—and to make it easy, you see, here is the English on one page and the Latin on the other.”

After a little further conversation with Mr. Moth, Thomas comprehended the nature and use of a translation, and it seemed to him that he had nothing to do but to compare the opposite pages, word by word, in order to find out the meaning of each.

As the volume had a leaf torn out, Mr. Moth asked no more than eighteen pence for it, and knowing Thomas Trewellan’s good character, he consented to let him take it away and pay for it a few pence at a time, as he should be able to spare the money. He put the book into his frock pocket and rode home more happy than if he had found a bag of guineas.

Thomas had no opportunity even to look at the book he had bought, till the evening of the following day. That he might be quite undisturbed, he took his book, with paper, pens, and ink, to the top of the hill, about a mile from his father’s house: there was here, what is called a cromlech, that is, three huge stones standing upright, near each other: a flat stone, which was once placed on the top of the upright stones, had fallen from its place, and now laid on one side, and made a sort of table. Thomas often came to this place in the long summer evenings. The sides of the hill, all round, were scattered over with large rough rocks; between which grew fine soft grass, interspersed with many delicate flowers. On all the hills in the distance were seen the engine houses, and round hillocks of earth thrown up from the mines. In the furthest distance, both to the north and to the south, might be seen a blue line of sea,—the English Channel on one side, and the Bristol Channel on the other.

But now, Thomas Trewellan has set himself down to make his first attempt at learning Latin: for want, however, of some one to give him needful directions, he seemed only likely to lose all his labour. He did not know that, in Latin, the words do not follow each other in the same order that they do in English: and, therefore, he supposed he could not fall into mistakes if he compared the Latin and the English together, word by word, in order to learn the meaning of each Latin word. That he might be the more sure, he determined to write the words alternately, thus,—“Quanquam, Although; te, after; Marce, twelve; fili, months; annum, spent; jam, in; audientem, the; Cratippum, School:”—and so on. Before he had written out many lines in this manner, he observed that the word te, occurred again: and he immediately looked back to see if the same English word answered to it in both places. But how great was his perplexity when he found that in the one place it seemed to mean after; and in the other place in: and as he went on he found that none of the same words in English, answered to the same words in Latin.

Now, he knew not what to think, or what to do. He began to fear that he must give up the thought of learning Latin. He resolved, however, once more to ask a little assistance from John Dawson, who was not yet returned to school. Thomas thought it very likely that John would only laugh at him; but his desire to learn was so great, that he was willing even to have his mistakes exposed to ridicule, if he could, in any way, gain knowledge. The next time an opportunity occurred he showed what he had written to John Dawson; requesting him to tell him if it was done right: but this idle boy, after he had looked at the paper a minute, burst out into a great fit of laughing. Thomas then endeavoured to take the paper out of his hand; but he thrust it into his pocket; and ran off, saying, it would make fine sport for the boys at school.

A few weeks after this occurrence, as Thomas was returning, in the evening, to the mine, he was overtaken on the road by a gentleman on horseback, who wore a white wig, and looked like a clergyman: he stopped his horse, and enquired the way to a farm house in the neighbourhood. Thomas pointed to the house in the distance, and described the road to it, saying, “After you pass the bridge, Sir, there is a horse-path across the heath, that runs at a right-angle with the road:—this leads directly up to the house.”

“A right-angle!” said the gentleman; “and pray what do you know about right-angles?”

Thomas was a little confused by the question; but modestly replied that his Father had taught him a little Geometry in spare hours.

“Indeed,” said the gentleman, “and what is your Father’s name:—he is a tinner, I suppose?”

“Yes, Sir: my Father works here, at huel[1] Tolgoth: his name is Trewellan.”

“Trewellan, hey:—and what is your name?”

“Thomas, Sir.”

“Thomas Trewellan:—now, Thomas, can you tell me what is the meaning of the word Quanquam?”

“Quanquam, Sir; that’s Latin, is’nt it: I don’t understand Latin.”

Thomas recollected that this was the first word in Tully’s Offices; and he wondered how the gentleman should happen to ask him the meaning of that word.

“No,” said the gentleman, “I dare say you do not understand Latin. But,” said he, “as you have learned something about Geometry, would’nt you be pleased to learn Latin also?”

“Aye, Sir, I should like to learn Latin well enough: but my Father can’t teach me that: besides, he says, ’tis of no use to us tinners.”

After a little more conversation, the gentleman asked Thomas if his Father did not live very near the farm house to which he had just inquired the way. Thomas replied, that his Father’s cottage was only a stone’s throw on this side the farm: the gentleman then spurred his horse, and rode off.

Thomas went on his way to the mine, greatly wondering what business the gentleman could have with his Father: and especially how he should happen to ask him about the word Quanquam.

When his work was done, he ran home: “Well, Thomas;” said his Father and Mother, both speaking at once, when he opened the door;—“Well, who do you think the gentleman was that overtook you on the road?—Why, to be sure, Dr. Knowles, that keeps the school where the captain’s son goes. He has been here, talking a long while about you. He says, that he overheard John Dawson, (ah, the little varment), making great fun among the boys, with reading something what you had written; and so he inquired all about it: and made Master John tell him all he knew about you; and about what you have learned, and how you tried to learn Latin: and he says, too, he has known several poor lads, like you, Thomas, that were so fond of learning, get on and on; and go to college.”

“College!” said Thomas, who stood with his mouth and eyes wide open; “Where is college, Father: I don’t remember that place in the map?”

“Never mind that now, Thomas,” replied his Father: “I was going to say, Dr. Knowles says its a pity you should not have an education: and he says, that if we can any ways contrive to fit you out, and find you clothes, he will give you your board and learning for nothing.”

Thomas was more pleased than we can easily describe, by this good news. He continued, however, for several weeks to follow his employment at the mine, till the necessary preparations for his going to school could be made: during this time his good fortune was talked about: and one of the proprietors of the mine hearing of the affair, and having received a very good character of him from the captain, promised to allow him a small sum yearly, while he should be at school. All difficulties being thus removed, Thomas took leave of his companions at the mine, and left his Father’s cottage to go to Dr. Knowles’s academy. On his way, however, he did not forget to call on his old acquaintance, Mr. Moth; to whom he related what had occurred, and paid the last three-pence that was due for Tully’s Offices.

After Thomas had been a short time at school, he began to feel rather discouraged on several accounts. In the first place, he was abashed by being laughed at by many of the boys, for his awkward manners, and incorrect mode of speaking: he found that little things, which he had never thought of before; and which seemed to him of no importance, yet gave the greatest dunce in the school an opportunity of making him appear ridiculous. He was discouraged also by finding it more wearisome than he had expected, to be obliged to apply to his learning so many hours of the day: and he was a little vexed too, when he discovered some branches of knowledge which he had never even heard mentioned before, and of which he found it difficult to comprehend the nature, and which yet seemed to be quite familiar to many boys in the school five years younger than himself. As his memory had been very little exercised, except in learning hymns and chapters from the Bible at home, he found his tasks in the Latin Grammar rather burdensome: these difficulties, however, diminished every month: and every day he felt a fresh pleasure in the acquirement of knowledge, and in the employment of his understanding.

“A year ago,” said Thomas to himself, “I hardly knew enough to know that I was ignorant: now, I have just learned enough to make me understand that I am still ignorant.”

[1] Pronounced wheel.

THE END.