Onslow shaking with pain and distress over a moral failing which he regarded as comparatively slight therefore moved him deeply, and so he put a hand on his shoulder, and spoke words of gentle reassurance.
Such a thing had never happened to Onslow before, and it made him burst into passionate tears, an orgy of grief which gradually eased off into the soft weeping of one comforted. Then Arnold began to speak to him about the need to resist temptation, the need both for Christ and for good friends who would assist in the struggle against something which, though minor, could be perilous. Listening to this, sucking in Christian words with new understanding, Onslow thought of how badly he had behaved for months, without ever being caught; and to this new kind father so unlike his own he confessed how he had gone poaching, and drinking, and had broken bounds countless times. He swore that if Arnold would only allow him to remain at Rugby he would never do wrong again. Dr Arnold willingly accepted his assurance, and when Onslow was at last calm enough to leave, he said:
‘My dear boy, it is a great pleasure to me to think that I shall have you in the Sixth very soon. Abide by the resolutions you have made today, put your trust in God,and you will become an ornament to the school in the near future, and to the world when you are a man.’
Thereafter, throughout his years in the Sixth Form, Onslow had been treated by Arnold with grave tenderness. He was loved even more than Primrose, because he was a returned prodigal and had had to battle with a difficult nature. Dr Arnold was stern, he often rebuked Onslow for a slight tendency to levity and for intellectual arrogance, but the love he gave him was real, and Onslow struggled to amass more and more of it. With the vast incentive of respect and affection from both Arnold and Primrose, he had found it easy to direct his energies away from every kind of wrongdoing which had tempted him before. He learnt to love Christ, and he never masturbated with another boy again. Those had been the happiest years of his life.
Onslow got up, walked over to his desk, and stood there looking blankly at the text of that day’s sermon. Fingering it, he tried to remember exactly why, at fifteen, his conscience had been so very active when the other boy’s had not. Then, from deep down inside him, there rose up the memory of his mother discovering him with his hands on his penis when he was six years old. She had beaten him more severely than he had ever been beaten since, and told him that he would certainly go to Hell, a place which she described in great detail, making him scream. Thereafter, till adolescence with its unbearable urges came upon him, he had been too frightened of his own genitals even to look at them. Now Onslow covered his face with his hands, realising that nine years after that incident, he had expected Dr Arnold to behave like his mother. His mother had been a rigid Evangelical, with a fierce hatred of sexuality which was the result of her having suffered a long series of painful miscarriages: but Dr Arnold had been a happily married Latitudinarian, and had taken the official Christian view that lust was the least of the seven deadly sins.
Few who considered themselves truly pious took that official view, which Onslow began to think had corrupted him. He knew now that for years, he had secretly allowedhimself to believe that Dr Arnold had sanctioned his little pleasures – it had taken Tom Brown’s Schooldays to jerk him back into reality. He wondered whether he would have succumbed to temptation in manhood if Dr Arnold had, after all, behaved like his mother – perhaps his sin could have been beaten out of him, even though beating so seldom eradicated sin in the boys at Charton. Perhaps terror would have been effective. But now, he thought, because he had not been doubly terrorised in youth, he could not wholly believe that his keening lust was so very wrong; and thus he
Such a thing had never happened to Onslow before, and it made him burst into passionate tears, an orgy of grief which gradually eased off into the soft weeping of one comforted. Then Arnold began to speak to him about the need to resist temptation, the need both for Christ and for good friends who would assist in the struggle against something which, though minor, could be perilous. Listening to this, sucking in Christian words with new understanding, Onslow thought of how badly he had behaved for months, without ever being caught; and to this new kind father so unlike his own he confessed how he had gone poaching, and drinking, and had broken bounds countless times. He swore that if Arnold would only allow him to remain at Rugby he would never do wrong again. Dr Arnold willingly accepted his assurance, and when Onslow was at last calm enough to leave, he said:
‘My dear boy, it is a great pleasure to me to think that I shall have you in the Sixth very soon. Abide by the resolutions you have made today, put your trust in God,and you will become an ornament to the school in the near future, and to the world when you are a man.’
Thereafter, throughout his years in the Sixth Form, Onslow had been treated by Arnold with grave tenderness. He was loved even more than Primrose, because he was a returned prodigal and had had to battle with a difficult nature. Dr Arnold was stern, he often rebuked Onslow for a slight tendency to levity and for intellectual arrogance, but the love he gave him was real, and Onslow struggled to amass more and more of it. With the vast incentive of respect and affection from both Arnold and Primrose, he had found it easy to direct his energies away from every kind of wrongdoing which had tempted him before. He learnt to love Christ, and he never masturbated with another boy again. Those had been the happiest years of his life.
Onslow got up, walked over to his desk, and stood there looking blankly at the text of that day’s sermon. Fingering it, he tried to remember exactly why, at fifteen, his conscience had been so very active when the other boy’s had not. Then, from deep down inside him, there rose up the memory of his mother discovering him with his hands on his penis when he was six years old. She had beaten him more severely than he had ever been beaten since, and told him that he would certainly go to Hell, a place which she described in great detail, making him scream. Thereafter, till adolescence with its unbearable urges came upon him, he had been too frightened of his own genitals even to look at them. Now Onslow covered his face with his hands, realising that nine years after that incident, he had expected Dr Arnold to behave like his mother. His mother had been a rigid Evangelical, with a fierce hatred of sexuality which was the result of her having suffered a long series of painful miscarriages: but Dr Arnold had been a happily married Latitudinarian, and had taken the official Christian view that lust was the least of the seven deadly sins.
Few who considered themselves truly pious took that official view, which Onslow began to think had corrupted him. He knew now that for years, he had secretly allowedhimself to believe that Dr Arnold had sanctioned his little pleasures – it had taken Tom Brown’s Schooldays to jerk him back into reality. He wondered whether he would have succumbed to temptation in manhood if Dr Arnold had, after all, behaved like his mother – perhaps his sin could have been beaten out of him, even though beating so seldom eradicated sin in the boys at Charton. Perhaps terror would have been effective. But now, he thought, because he had not been doubly terrorised in youth, he could not wholly believe that his keening lust was so very wrong; and thus he
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