Elective Affinities (25 page)

Charlotte, who already had a general knowledge of his outlook and quickly discovered more of it in detail, at once gave him an opportunity to be active in his own sphere by having the garden brigade, which the architect had assembled just before his departure, marched into the great hall. They looked very fine as they came in with arms swinging and dressed in their bright clean uniforms. The schoolmaster inspected them after his own fashion and by questioning and talking with them had very soon brought out the particular temperament
and abilities of each boy; moreover, without appearing to do so he had in the course of less than an hour given them some real instruction.

‘However do you do it?’ Charlotte asked as the boys filed out. ‘I listened very closely, there was nothing exceptional about what you discussed, yet I really do not know how I would go about getting them to talk so sensibly in such a short time.’

‘Perhaps one should make a secret of the tricks of one’s trade,’ replied the schoolmaster, ‘but I cannot hide from you the quite simple rule which will enable you to achieve this and much more. Take some subject, some matter, some idea – call it what you will. Take a really firm grip on it. Be clear about it in your own mind in all its parts. It will then be easy, by talking to a group of children, to discover what they already know of it and what they still have to learn. No matter how inappropriate their answers are or however far from the point they wander, so long as your next question draws their minds and thoughts back to the subject in hand, so long as you do not let them draw you away from it, the children are bound in the end to think and understand only what and in the way the teacher wants them to. The greatest mistake a teacher can make is to let his pupils draw him away from the point, is to be incapable of keeping them fixed to the subject he is at that moment treating. Try doing it yourself, and you will find it very interesting.’

‘How neat,’ said Charlotte: ‘good teaching is, it seems, exactly the reverse of good breeding. In society one ought not to dwell too long on anything, and in school the first commandment is to resist all distraction.’

‘Variety without distraction would be the best motto for life and learning, if only this laudable balance were not so hard to achieve,’ said the schoolmaster, and would have gone on had Charlotte not called him to watch the boys again, as their gay procession was just then passing across the courtyard.
He said he was glad to see they had put the boys into uniform. ‘Men,’ he said, ‘ought to wear uniform from their youth up, because they have to get used to acting together, to mixing with their own kind, to obeying
en masse
and to working within the whole. Any kind of uniform, moreover, encourages a military attitude of mind, as it does a smarter and more straightforward bearing, and in any case every boy is a born soldier: you have only to look at the games they play, their fighting and mock battles.’

‘So on the other hand you will not disapprove,’ said Ottilie, ‘when you see I do not dress my girls all alike. I hope that when I present them to you, what you will find delightful is the mixture of colours.’

‘I approve very heartily,’ the schoolmaster replied. ‘Women ought all to be dressed differently, each according to her own style and nature, so that each may learn to perceive what looks well on her. A more important reason is this: because women are destined to stand alone and act alone their whole life long.’

‘That seems to me very paradoxical,’ Charlotte replied. ‘Surely we women hardly ever live for ourselves.’

‘Oh yes you do!’ replied the schoolmaster. ‘With respect to other women you certainly do. Think of a woman as a lover, as a bride, as wife, housewife and mother: always she stands isolate, always she is alone and wants to be alone. Yes, even the vain woman is in the same case. Every woman by her nature excludes every other woman: for every woman is required to do everything the whole sex is required to do. With men it is otherwise. A man desires another man: if there were no other man he would create him: a woman could live an eternity without its occurring to her to bring forth her own kind.’

‘If you put the truth in a strange way,’ said Charlotte, ‘what is strange finally appears true. Let us extract what is best from your remarks and still, as women, hold together
with women, and cooperate together too, so as not to allow the men too great advantages over us. Indeed, you must not take it amiss if we feel a little malicious pleasure, as we must do all the more after this, when the gentlemen too fail to get on especially well together.’

The wise schoolmaster now examined with great application the way in which Ottilie handled her little pupils and indicated his decided approval. ‘You are quite right,’ he said, ‘to teach your charges only what is of immediate applicability. Cleanliness makes children glad to take some pride in themselves, and the whole battle is won if they can be inspired to do what they have to do with cheerfulness and self-confidence’.

He found, moreover, to his great satisfaction that nothing had been done for the sake of appearance, but everything was directed towards the most essential necessities. ‘In how few words,’ he exclaimed, ‘might the whole business of education be summed up if anyone had ears to hear.’

‘Would you not like to try if I have ears to hear?’ Ottilie asked amiably.

‘Very gladly,’ said the schoolmaster, ‘only you mustn’t give me away. Boys should be educated to be servants and girls to be mothers, and all will be well.’

‘The ladies could well be willing to be educated as mothers,’ said Ottilie, ‘since, even if they are not mothers, they always have to prepare themselves for being attendants of some kind; but our young men would certainly consider themselves too good to be servants, since it is easy to see each of them regards himself as more capable of commanding than serving.’

‘And therefore let us keep silent,’ said the schoolmaster. ‘We flatter ourselves when we embark on life, but life does not flatter us. For how many people would allow of their own free will what they are finally compelled to allow? But let us leave these reflections, which here do not concern us.

‘You are fortunate in being able to apply to your pupils a
correct method of instruction. If your youngest girls occupy themselves with dolls and patch together a few rags for them, if older sisters look after the younger and all the members of the household take care of one another, then the further step into adult life is not a great one, and a girl so brought up will find with her husband what she left behind with her parents.

‘But in the cultivated classes the task is very involved. We have to take account of more elevated, more delicate, more refined circumstances, and we have especially to take account of social relationships. We others, therefore, have to cultivate our pupils in an outward-looking direction; that is unavoidable and necessary, and it can turn out very well provided one does not go too far in the process: for in seeking to educate children for a wider circle of life one can easily push them out into boundless spheres without keeping in view the real requirements of their inner nature. Here lies the task of education which educators are, to a greater or less degree, succeeding or failing in.

‘I am concerned at many of the things we provide our girls with at the school, because experience tells me of how little future use it will be to them. How much is not at once discarded, how much not consigned to oblivion, as soon as a woman finds herself a housewife and mother!

‘Nonetheless, since I have dedicated myself to this work, I cannot renounce the devout desire one day to succeed, in company with a faithful companion, in cultivating in my pupils all that which they will need when they go off to lead their own lives, and to be able to say of them that in this sense their education is complete. A fresh education then begins, of course, an education which is renewed every year of our lives, if not by us ourselves then by the circumstances in which we live.’

How true Ottilie thought this observation! What had an unanticipated passion not taught her in the year just gone!
What tests and trials did she not see ahead of her even if she looked only to the most immediate future!

It was not without premeditation that the young man had mentioned a companion, a wife: for, all his modesty notwithstanding, he could not forbear to indicate in an indirect way what his intentions were; indeed, circumstances and events had inspired him to employ this visit to advance a few steps nearer to his goal.

The headmistress of the boarding-school was no longer young and she had been casting about among her colleagues for someone to enter into a partnership with her; and she had finally settled on her young assistant, whom she had every reason to trust: she had proposed to him that he should continue to direct the establishment with her, should act in it as if it were his own, and after her death become her heir and sole inheritor. The main consideration seemed to be for him to find a wife willing to share this existence. He secretly had Ottilie in mind and in his heart, and his doubts on this head had to some extent been stilled by a number of fortunate events. Luciane had left the school and it would now be easier for Ottilie to return; it was true that something of her affair with Eduard had become known but, like other similar episodes, this too was not taken very seriously, and it might even contribute to bringing Ottilie back. But no decision would have been made, no steps taken, had an unexpected visit not, in this case too, supplied a definite stimulus. Because the appearance of strong individuals in any circle can never fail to produce consequences.

The Count and the Baroness, who, because almost everyone is perplexed about the education of their children, often found themselves asked about the merits of this or that school, had decided to find out all about this one, of which they had heard so many good reports, and in their new circumstances they were able to conduct such an investigation together. But the Baroness had something else in view too. During her
last stay with Charlotte she had had a thorough and circumstantial discussion with her about everything concerning Eduard and Ottilie. She insisted again and again that Ottilie must be sent away. She tried to inspire in her the courage to take this step, for Charlotte was still fearful of Eduard’s threats. They talked over the various solutions to their problem, and when the boarding-school was mentioned they also spoke of the young schoolmaster’s affection for Ottilie, and the Baroness became all the firmer in her resolve to undertake the proposed visit.

She arrived and met the schoolmaster, and they inspected the establishment and talked of Ottilie. The Count, too, was glad to talk of her since he had come to know her better during his latest visit. She had drawn closer to him, indeed he had attracted her, because she thought to learn through his informed conversation what had hitherto been quite unknown to her. And, as in Eduard’s company she had forgotten the world, so in that of the Count the world had for the first time come to seem to her desirable. All attraction is mutual. Ottilie inspired in the Count such an affection that he was glad to regard her as a daughter. Here too, for a second time and more dangerously than the first time, she was in the Baroness’s way. Who knows what this lady might not have plotted against her in the days when her passions were more vehement! Now it was sufficient to reduce the threat to wives which she constituted by getting her married.

She therefore gently but effectively instigated the schoolmaster to arrange a little visit to the mansion, so that he could without delay hasten the accomplishment of the plans and the achievement of the desires of which he made no secret to the lady.

It was thus with the full approval of the headmistress that he undertook his journey and cherished within him the liveliest hopes. He knows Ottilie is not unfavourably inclined towards him; and if there existed some inequality of rank between
them, the disposition of the age would make light of that. The Baroness had, moreover, given him to understand that Ottilie would always be poor. To be related to a wealthy house, she had said, was of no help to anyone: for, even in the case of the largest fortune, one would have a conscience about depriving of any considerable sum those who, by virtue of closer relationship, seemed to possess greater right to the property.

And, indeed, it is a strange fact that men very seldom exercise the great privilege of disposing of their goods even after they are dead to the benefit of their favourites but, seemingly out of respect for tradition, favour only those who would get their property even if they had no will in the matter.

On the journey he felt that he and Ottilie were altogether equal. A friendly reception raised his hopes. It is true he found Ottilie less frank and open with him than formerly, but she was at the same time more grown-up, more cultivated and, if you will, more communicative than he had previously known her. She confided to him much that had a bearing on his profession of schoolmaster, but when he thought to advance his own objective in being there a certain inner reserve always held him back.

But one day Charlotte gave him an opportunity by saying in Ottilie’s presence: ‘Well, now you have examined pretty well everything going on in my circle, what do you think of Ottilie? You need not be afraid to speak before her.’

The schoolmaster thereupon told, with a great deal of discernment and in a quiet tone, how he had found Ottilie changed very much to her advantage in respect of a more relaxed manner, an easier conversation and a greater insight into worldly affairs, which manifested themselves more in her actions than her words, but that he believed it would be very advantageous to her to return to the school for a time, so as to acquire permanently and thoroughly, in proper regular
sequence, that which the world taught only partially, to the confusion rather than the satisfaction of the pupil, and indeed sometimes taught only when it was too late. He had no wish to expatiate on the subject: Ottilie herself best knew out of how coherent a programme of lessons she had been torn.

Ottilie could not deny the truth of what he said, but neither could she confess her feelings on hearing it, because she hardly knew how to interpret them. All the world seemed to her coherent when she thought of the man she loved, and she could not see how anything could be coherent without him.