The Sketcher.

Mount Ida Chronicle, Volume 31, Issue 9220, 15 June 1900, Page 3

The Sketcher.

Father and Son.

A Conversation.

Tom went back to Cambridge for hifl third year with his mind fully made up with regard to his career. He was alone with his father his last night al home, and they had talked the matter out—or rather Torn talked the matter out, and his father expressed acquiescence with liis purposed arrangements, and mingled a little cynical advice.

" You see, I must be a sculptor, father," Tom had said, " at least, that is my passion. If you wish me to go into the business or go to the Bar, I'll go, but that won't be the work of my life. You don't object, do you V" They were sitting in the smokingroom after dinner before the live, for October .had started with early frosts, and Mr. (Jarlingt'ord loathed cold weather. He often stopped indoors for two or three weeks at a time in the winter.

" My dear boy," he replied, *' I don't object to anything about you at present; I realiy lind you tlie only satisfactory spot in a—a satisfactory life. There is only one tiling I should object to, and that is if you made a fool of yourself. Don't do that, Tom. Many people when they make fools of themselves think that they are being original, whereas they are doing what nine-tenths of the human race has done since the beginning of the world. More than ninetenths probably ; Adam and Eve both made fpols of themselves, so did Cain and Abel—Abel particularly. And a sculptor has such unlimited opportunities for making a fool of himself." "In what way ?" asked Tom.

"Falling in love with his models, or, still worse, marrying them. If you are going to the devil, go to him like a gentleman. Then, sculptors often wear long hair, and Liberty fabric ties with gold rings round them. 1 knew a sculptor once who wore a cameo ring. If you wear a cameo ring I shall cut my throat."

" Oh, I tshan't do any of tho.se things," said Tom confidently. "No, I think it is most probable that you won't, otherwise I should make objections to your being a sculptor. But you can't tell. You haven't had many opportunities ycl."

"One can make a fool of oneself at Cambridge if it comes to that," said Tom.

" No, not very easily. Public opinion is against it, whereas in m-\st places liie fools themselves coiisMirnio public opinion. I'm glad of it. though it is only putting oil the evil days a little longer. When I was a I Cambridge, boys made fools of themselves earlier than they do now. For instance, people get drunk much less. It's a change for die beter, I suppose. But 1 don't know that this generation will have gone through less dirt when they are iO than we did. ihere comes a t.mc to evwy one when they must; decide definitely whether they are going to make fools of themselves or nor. I've got very strong views about morality." His clever, wrixkled old face beamed with amusemenr.

" Morality is just a synonym for wisdom," h'e went on, " and immorality is folly. I doiiC know anything about the religious side of it at . \ I leave that to others. But I know a little about folly. It's quite the worst investment you can make."

" I don't know that I ever thought about it at all," -said Tom frankly ; '" I don't mean to be a brute if 1 caii help it."

"There are 110 such tilings as brutes," said his father ; " there are only wise uieu and fools-—chiefly fools, 15very man has to settle the question for liinjaeli' as to which he will be : no one goes through life scot-free of the necessity of fighting inclinations. I haven't ever talked to you before about it, because it is no use giving advice to young men, and the worst thing of all is to tell them to think about such things. You have to think about it when your time conies; till then it's best not to Know it. The best preparation is to lead a healthy life, and think about cricket, not to read White Cross tracts and go to Purity meetings."

Tom rcwe from his chair and knocked out the ashes of his pipe against the chimney-piece. " I think you're wrong, father,"- lie said ; " if one has an aim in life, everything gives way to that. If one ha 9 principles, one cannot disregard them." " Sometimes principles interfere with* interests," remarked Mr. Carlinzford. Tom laughed.

" Idle men are the vicious men," he said.

" I haven't done a stroke of work for ten years," remarked his father with amusement. " All the same, I haven't been idle. I find plenty to do in watching other people. But there is one piece of advice I would readily like to give you. If you find you fall in love with any unsuitable young person—a model probably—send her about her business. (If wo fat' gone for that, cut hi_r throat—it is probably her fault—she probably wanted you to fall in love with her, and if you see any objection to that, cut mine, or cut your'own. Perhaps your own is best. It is unpleasant,■ no doubt, for the moment, but that is better than wishing every moment for the rest of your life that you had done it." " But one can always cut one's throat. Besides, isn't that making a fool of oneself ?" "Not at all it is the consequence df having made a fool of oneself."—From " Limitations," by E. F. Benson, in " Temple Bar."