idle thoughts of an idle fellow- 第21部分

A　meek　deportment　is　a　great　mistake　in　the　world。　　Uriah　Heap's　father　was　a　very　poor　judge　of　human　nature；　or　he　would　not　have　told　his　son；　as　he　did；　that　people　liked　humbleness。　　There　is　nothing　annoys　them　more；　as　a　rule。　　Rows　are　half　the　fun　of　life；　and　you　can't　have　rows　with　humble；　meek…answering　individuals。　　They　turn　away　our　wrath；　and　that　is　just　what　we　do　not　want。　　We　want　to　let　it　out。　　We　have　worked　ourselves　up　into　a　state　of　exhilarating　fury；　and　then　just　as　we　are　anticipating　the　enjoyment　of　a　vigorous　set…to；　they　spoil　all　our　plans　with　their　exasperating　humility。

Xantippe's　life　must　have　been　one　long　misery；　tied　to　that　calmly　irritating　man；　Socrates。　　Fancy　a　married　woman　doomed　to　live　on　from　day　to　day　without　one　single　quarrel　with　her　husband！　　A　man　ought　to　humor　his　wife　in　these　things。

Heaven　knows　their　lives　are　dull　enough；　poor　girls。　　They　have　none　of　the　enjoyments　we　have。　　They　go　to　no　political　meetings；　they　may　not　even　belong　to　the　local　amateur　parliament；　they　are　excluded　from　smoking…carriages　on　the　Metropolitan　Railway；　and　they　never　see　a　comic　paperor　if　they　do；　they　do　not　know　it　is　comic：　　nobody　tells　them。

Surely；　with　existence　such　a　dreary　blank　for　them　as　this；　we　might　provide　a　little　row　for　their　amusement　now　and　then；　even　if　we　do　not　feel　inclined　for　it　ourselves。　　A　really　sensible　man　does　so　and　is　loved　accordingly；　for　it　is　little　acts　of　kindness　such　as　this　that　go　straight　to　a　woman's　heart。　　It　is　such　like　proofs　of　loving　self…sacrifice　that　make　her　tell　her　female　friends　what　a　good　husband　he　wasafter　he　is　dead。

Yes；　poor　Xantippe　must　have　had　a　hard　time　of　it。　　The　bucket　episode　was　particularly　sad　for　her。　　Poor　woman！　she　did　think　she　would　rouse　him　up　a　bit　with　that。　　She　had　taken　the　trouble　to　fill　the　bucket；　perhaps　been　a　long　way　to　get　specially　dirty　water。　　And　she　waited　for　him。　　And　then　to　be　met　in　such　a　way；　after　all！　Most　likely　she　sat　down　and　had　a　good　cry　afterward。　　It　must　have　seemed　all　so　hopeless　to　the　poor　child；　and　for　all　we　know　she　had　no　mother　to　whom　she　could　go　and　abuse　him。

What　was　it　to　her　that　her　husband　was　a　great　philosopher？　　Great　philosophy　don't　count　in　married　life。

There　was　a　very　good　little　boy　once　who　wanted　to　go　to　sea。　　And　the　captain　asked　him　what　he　could　do。　　He　said　he　could　do　the　multiplication…table　backward　and　paste　sea…weed　in　a　book；　that　he　knew　how　many　times　the　word　〃begat〃　occurred　in　the　Old　Testament；　and　could　recite　〃The　Boy　Stood　on　the　Burning　Deck〃　and　Wordsworth's　〃We　Are　Seven。〃

〃Werry　goodwerry　good；　indeed；〃　said　the　man　of　the　sea；　〃and　ken　ye　kerry　coals？〃

It　is　just　the　same　when　you　want　to　marry。　　Great　ability　is　not　required　so　much　as　little　usefulness。　　Brains　are　at　a　discount　in　the　married　state。　　There　is　no　demand　for　them；　no　appreciation　even。　Our　wives　sum　us　up　according　to　a　standard　of　their　own；　in　which　brilliancy　of　intellect　obtains　no　marks。　　Your　lady　and　mistress　is　not　at　all　impressed　by　your　cleverness　and　talent；　my　dear　readernot　in　the　slightest。　　Give　her　a　man　who　can　do　an　errand　neatly；　without　attempting　to　use　his　own　judgment　over　it　or　any　nonsense　of　that　kind；　and　who　can　be　trusted　to　hold　a　child　the　right　way　up；　and　not　make　himself　objectionable　whenever　there　is　lukewarm　mutton　for　dinner。　　That　is　the　sort　of　a　husband　a　sensible　woman　likes；　not　one　of　your　scientific　or　literary　nuisances；　who　go　upsetting　the　whole　house　and　putting　everybody　out　with　their　foolishness。



ON　MEMORY。

　　　　　〃I　remember；　I　remember；　　　　　　In　the　days　of　chill　November；　　　　　　How　the　blackbird　on　the〃　　　　　　　I　forget　the　rest。　　It　is　the　beginning　of　the　first　piece　of　poetry　I　ever　learned；　for

　　　　　〃Hey；　diddle　diddle；　　　　　　The　cat　and　the　fiddle；〃　　　　　　　I　take　no　note　of；　it　being　of　a　frivolous　character　and　lacking　in　the　qualities　of　true　poetry。　　I　collected　fourpence　by　the　recital　of　〃I　remember；　I　remember。〃　　I　knew　it　was　fourpence；　because　they　told　me　that　if　I　kept　it　until　I　got　twopence　more　I　should　have　sixpence；　which　argument；　albeit　undeniable；　moved　me　not；　and　the　money　was　squandered；　to　the　best　of　my　recollection；　on　the　very　next　morning；　although　upon　what　memory　is　a　blank。

That　is　just　the　way　with　Memory；　nothing　that　she　brings　to　us　is　complete。　　She　is　a　willful　child；　all　her　toys　are　broken。　　I　remember　tumbling　into　a　huge　dust…hole　when　a　very　small　boy；　but　I　have　not　the　faintest　recollection　of　ever　getting　out　again；　and　if　memory　were　all　we　had　to　trust　to；　I　should　be　compelled　to　believe　I　was　there　still。

At　another　timesome　years　laterI　was　assisting　at　an　exceedingly　interesting　love　scene；　but　the　only　thing　about　it　I　can　call　to　mind　distinctly　is　that　at　the　most　critical　moment　somebody　suddenly　opened　the　door　and　said；　〃Emily；　you're　wanted；〃　in　a　sepulchral　tone　that　gave　one　the　idea　the　police　had　come　for　her。　　All　the　tender　words　she　said　to　me　and　all　the　beautiful　things　I　said　to　her　are　utterly　forgotten。

Life　altogether　is　but　a　crumbling　ruin　when　we　turn　to　look　behind：　a　shattered　column　here；　where　a　massive　portal　stood；　the　broken　shaft　of　a　window　to　mark　my　lady's　bower；　and　a　moldering　heap　of　blackened　stones　where　the　glowing　flames　once　leaped；　and　over　all　the　tinted　lichen　and　the　ivy　clinging　green。

For　everything　looms　pleasant　through　the　softening　haze　of　time。　Even　the　sadness　that　is　past　seems　sweet。　　Our　boyish　days　look　very　merry　to　us　now；　all　nutting；　hoop；　and　gingerbread。　　The　snubbings　and　toothaches　and　the　Latin　verbs　are　all　forgottenthe　Latin　verbs　especially。　　And　we　fancy　we　were　very　happy　when　we　were　hobbledehoys　and　loved；　and　we　wish　that　we　could　love　again。　　We　never　think　of　the　heartaches；　or　the　sleepless　nights；　or　the　hot　dryness　of　our　throats；　when　she　said　she　could　never　be　anything　to　us　but　a　sisteras　if　any　man　wanted　more　sisters！

Yes；　it　is　the　brightness；　not　the　darkness；　that　we　see　when　we　look　back。　　The　sunshine　casts　no　shadows　on　the　past。　　The　road　that　we　have　traversed　stretches　very　fair　behind　us。　　We　see　not　the　sharp　stones。　　We　dwell　but　on　the　roses　by　the　wayside；　and　the　strong　briers　that　stung　us　are；　to　our　distant　eyes；　but　gentle　tendrils　waving　in　the　wind。　　God　be　thanked　that　it　is　sothat　the　ever…lengthening　chain　of　memory　has　only　pleasant　links；　and　that　the　bitterness　and　sorrow　of　to…day　are　smiled　at　on　the　morrow。

It　seems　as　though　the　brightest　side　of　everything　were　also　its　highest　and　best；　so　that　as　our　little　lives　sink　back　behind　us　into　the　dark　sea　of　forgetfulness；　all　that　which　is　the　lightest　and　the　most　gladsome　is　the　last　to　sink；　and　stands　above　the　waters；　long　in　sight；　when　the　angry　thoughts　and　smarting　pain　are　buried　deep　below　the　waves　and　trouble　us　no　more。

It　is　this　glamour　of　the　past；　I　suppose；　that　makes　old　folk　talk　so　much　nonsense　about　the　days　when　they　were　young。　　The　world　appears　to　have　been　a　very　superior　sort　of　place　then；　and　things　were　more　like　what　they　ought　to　be。　　Boys　were　boys　then；　and　girls　were　very　different。　　Also　winters　were　something　like　winters；　and　summers　not　at　all　the　wretched…things　we　get　put　off　with　nowadays。　　As　for　the　wonderful　deeds　people　did　in　those　times　and　the　extraordinary　events　that　happened；　it　takes　three　strong　men　to　believe　half　of　them。

I　like　to　hear　one　of　the　old　boys　telling　all　about　it　to　a　party　of　youngsters　who　he　knows　cannot　contradict　him。　　It　is　odd　if；　after　awhile；　he　doesn't　swear　that　the　moon　shone　every　night　when　he　was　a　boy；　and　that　tossing　mad　bulls　in　a　blanket　was　the　favorite　sport　at　his　school。

It　always　has　been　and　always　will　be　the　same。　　The　old　folk　of　our　grandfathers'　young　days　sang　a　song　bearing　exactly　the　same　burden；　and　the　young　folk　of　to…day　will　drone　out　precisely　similar　nonsense　for　the　aggravation　of　the　next　generation。　　〃Oh；　give　me　back　the　good　old　days　of　fifty　years　ago；〃　has　been　the　cry　ever　since　Adam's　fifty…first　birthday。　　Take　up　the　literature　of　1835；　and　you　will　find　the　poets　and　novelists　asking　for　the　same　impossible　gift　as　did　the　German　Minnesingers　long　before　them　and　the　old　Norse　Saga　writers　long　before　that。　　And　for　the　same　thing　sighed　the　early　prophets　and　the　philosophers　of　ancient　Greece。　　From　all　accounts；　the　world　has　been　getting　worse　and　worse　ever　since　it　was　created。　All　I　can　say　is　that　it　must　have　been　a　remarkably　delightful　place　when　it　was　first　opened　to　the　public；　for　it　is　very　pleasant　even　now　if　you　only　keep　as　much　as　possible　in　the　sunshine　and　take　the　rain　good…temperedly。

Yet　there　is　no　gainsaying　but　that　it　must　have　been　somewhat　sweeter　in　that　dewy　morning　of　creation；　when　it　was　young　and　fresh；　when　the　feet　of　the　tramping　millions　had　not　trodden　its　grass　to　dust；　nor　the　din　of　the　myriad　cities　chased　the　silence　forever　away。　Life　must　have　been　noble　and　solemn　to　those　free…footed；　loose…robed　fathers　of　the　human　race；　walking　hand　in　hand　with　God　under　the　great　sky。　　They　lived　in　sunkissed　tents　amid　the　lowing　herds。　　They　took　their　simple　wants　from　the　loving　hand　of　Nature。　　They　toiled　and　talked　and　thought；　and　the　great　earth　rolled　around　in　stillness；　not　yet　laden　with　trouble　and　wrong。

Those　days　are　past　now。　　The　quiet　childhood　of　Humanity；　spent　in　the　far…off　forest　glades　and　by　the　murmuring　rivers；　is　gone　forever；　and　human　life　is　deepening　down　to　manhood　amid　tumult；　doubt；　and　hope。　　Its　age　of　restful　peace　is　past。　　It　has　its　work　to　finish　and　must　hasten　on。　　What　that　work　may　bewhat　this　world's　share　is　in　the　great　designwe　know　not；　though　our　unconscious　hands　are　helping　to　accomplish　it。　　Like　the　tiny　coral　insect　working　deep　under　the　dark　waters；　we　strive　and　struggle　each　for　our　own　little　ends；　nor　dream　of　the　vast　fabric　we　are　building　up　for　God。

Let　us　have　done　with　vain　regrets　and　longings　for　the　days　that　never　will　be　ours　again。　　Our　work　lies　in　front；　not　behind　us；　and　〃Forward！〃　is　our　motto。　　Let　us　not　sit　with　folded　hands；　gazing　upon　the　past　as　if　it