t
sympathise with the enthusiastic temperament of youths like Julian, nor
did he ever single out one of his pupils either for partiality or
dislike. Yet he was thoroughly kind-hearted, and many remembered his
good deeds with generous gratitude. Nor was he wholly wrong in his
theory that a tutor often does as much harm by meddling interference as
he does by distance and neglect.

When a boy goes to college, eager, quick, impetuous, rejoicing as a
giant to run his course, he is generally filled with noble resolutions
and elevating thoughts. There is a touch of flame and of romance in his
disposition; he feels himself to be the member of a brotherhood, and
longs to be a distinguished and worthy one; he is anxious for all that
is grand and right, and yearns for a little sympathy to support his
determination and enliven his hopes. Some there may be so dull and
sensual, so swallowed up in selfishness and conceit, so chill to every
generous sentiment, and callous to every stirring impulse, that they
experience none of this; their sole aim is, on the one hand to succeed,
or on the other, to amuse and gratify themselves, to cultivate all their
animal propensities, and drown in the mud-honey of premature
independence the last relics of their childish aspirations. With men
like this, to dress showily, to drive tandem and give champagne
breakfasts, comes as a matter of course; while their supremest delight
is to wander back to their old school, in fawn-coloured dittos, and with
a cigar in their mouths, to show their superiority to all sense of
decency and good taste. But these are the rare exceptions. However
much they may conceal their own emotions, however dead and cynical, and
contemptible they may grow in after days, there are few men of ordinary
uprightness who do not feel a thrill of genuine enthusiasm when they
first enter the walls of their college, and who will not own it without
a blush.

Now Julian was an enthusiast by nature and temperament; all the
sentiments which we have been describing he felt with more than ordinary
intensity. It gave a grandeur to his hopes, and a distinct sense of
ennobling pleasure to remember that he was treading the courts which
generations of the good and wise had trodden before him, and holding in
his hand the torch which they had handed down to him. _Their_ memory
still lingered there, and he trusted that _his_ name too might in after
days be not wholly unremembered. At least he