第 9 节
作者:
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violence of the rich。
It is the merry beggar who has so lamentably disappeared。 If a
beggar is still merry anywhere; he hides away what it would so cheer and
comfort us to see; he practises not merely the conventional seeming;
which is hardly intended to convince; but a more subtle and dramatic kind
of semblance; of no good influence upon the morals of the road。 He no
longer trusts the world with a sight of his gaiety。 He is not a wholehearted
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mendicant; and no longer keeps that liberty of unstable balance whereby
an unattached creature can go in a new direction with a new wind。 The
merry beggar was the only adventurer free to yield to the lighter touches
of chance; the touches that a habit of resistance has made imperceptible to
the seated and stable social world。
The visible flitting figure of the unfettered madman sprinkled our
literature with mad songs; and even one or two poets of to…day have; by
tradition; written them; but that wild source of inspiration has been
stopped; it has been built over; lapped and locked; imprisoned; led
underground。 The light melancholy and the wind…blown joys of the song
of the distraught; which the poets were once ingenious to capture; have
ceased to sound one note of liberty in the world's ears。 But it seems that
the grosser and saner freedom of the happy beggar is still the subject of a
Spanish song。
That song is gay; not defiant it is not an outlaw's or a robber's; it is not
a song of violence or fear。 It is the random trolling note of a man who
owes his liberty to no disorder; failure; or ill… fortune; but takes it by
choice from the voluntary world; enjoys it at the hand of unreluctant
charity; who twits the world with its own choice of bonds; but has not
broken his own by force。 It seems; therefore; the song of an indomitable
liberty of movement; light enough for the puffs of a zephyr chance。
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THE LADIES OF THE IDYLL
Little Primrose dames of the English classic; the wife and daughters of
the Vicar of Wakefield have no claim whatever to this name of lady。 It is
given to them in this page because Goldsmith himself gave it to them in
the yet undepreciated state of the word; and for the better reason that he
obviously intended them to be the equals of the men to whom he marries
them; those men being; with all their faults; gentlemen。 Goldsmith; in a
word; meant them to be ladies; of country breeding; but certainly fit for
membership of that large class of various fortune within which the name
makes a sufficient equality。
He; their author; thought them sufficient。 Having amused himself
ingeniously throughout the story with their nameless vulgarities; he finally
hurries them into so much sentiment as may excuse the convention of
heroes in love。 He plays with their coarseness like a perfectly pleased
and clever showman; and then piously and happily shuts up his couples
the gentle Dr。 Primrose with his abominable Deborah; the excellent Mr。
Burchell with the paltry Sophia; Olivia but no; Olivia is not so certainly
happy ever after; she has a captured husband ready for her in a state of
ignominy; but she has also a forgotten farmer somewhere in the
backgroundthe unhappy man whom; with her father's permission; this
sorry heroine had promised to marry in order that his wooing might pluck
forward the lagging suit of the squire。
Olivia; then; plays her common trick upon the harmless Williams; her
father conniving; with a provision that he urges with some demonstration
of virtue: she shall consent to make the farmer happy if the proposal of
the squire be not after all forthcoming。 But it is so evident her author
knew no better; that this matter may pass。 It involves a point of honour; of
which no oneneither the maker of the book nor anyone he madeis
aware。 What is better worth considering is the fact that Goldsmith was
completely aware of the unredeemed vulgarity of the ladies of the Idyll;
and cheerfully took it for granted as the thing to be expected from the
mother…in…law of a country gentleman and the daughters of a scholar。
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The education of women had sunk into a degradation never reached before;
inasmuch as it was degraded in relation to that of men。 It would matter
little indeed that Mrs。 Primrose 〃could read any English book without
much spelling〃 if her husband and son were as definitely limited to
journeyman's field…labour as she was to the pickling and the gooseberry
wine。 Any of those industries is a better and more liberal business than
unselect reading; for instance; or than unselect writing。 Therefore let me
not be misunderstood to complain too indiscriminately of that century or
of an unlettered state。 What is really unhandsome is the new; slovenly; and
corrupt inequality whereinto the century had fallen。
That the mother of daughters and sons should be fatuous; a village
worldling; suspicious; ambitious; ill…bred; ignorant; gross; insolent; foul…
mouthed; pushing; importunate; and a fool; seems natural; almost
innocently natural; in Goldsmith's story; the squalid Mrs。 Primrose is all
this。 He is still able; through his Vicar; in the most charmingly humorous
passage in the book; to praise her for her 〃prudence; economy; and
obedience。〃 Her other; more disgusting; characteristics give her husband
an occasion for rebuking her as 〃Woman!〃 This is done; for example;
when; despite her obedience; she refuses to receive that unlucky schemer;
her own daughter; returned in ruins; without insulting her by the sallies of
a kitchen sarcasm。
She plots with her daughters the most disastrous fortune hunt。 She
has given them a teaching so effectual that the Vicar has no fear lest the
paltry Sophia should lose her heart to the good; the sensible Burchell; who
had saved her life; for he has no fortune。 Mrs。 Primrose begins grotesquely;
with her tedious histories of the dishes at dinner; and she ends upon the
last page; anxious; amid the general happiness; in regard to securing the
head of the table。 Upon these feminine humours the author sheds his
Vicar's indulgent smile。 What a smile for a self…respecting husband to be
pricked to smile! A householder would wince; one would think; at
having opportunity to bestow its tolerance upon his cook。
Between these two housewifely appearances; Mrs。 Primrose potters
through the book; plotsalways squalidly; talks the worst kinds of folly;
takes the lead; with a loud laugh; in insulting a former friend; crushes her
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repentant daughter with reproaches that show envy rather than indignation;
and kisses that daughter with congratulation upon hearing that she had;
unconsciously and unintentionally; contracted a valid marriage (with a
rogue); spoils and makes common and unclean everything she touches;
has but two really gentle and tender moments all through the story; and
sets; once for all; the example in literature of the woman we find
thenceforth; in Thackeray; in Douglas Jerrold; in Dickens; and un peu
partout。
Hardly less unspiritual; in spite of their conventional romance of youth
and beauty; are the daughters of the squalid one。 The author; in making
them simple; has not abstained from making them cunning。 Their vanities
are well enough; but these women are not on