第 6 节
作者:
无组织 更新:2022-04-21 11:08 字数:9322
I thought she was going to say 〃wife;〃 but it proved to have been
only of a parrot that he had once known and loved。
One evening she was in difficulties about the quarantine; which was
enforced that year on the Italian frontier。 The local doctor had
gone down that morning to see the Italian doctor and arrange some
details。 〃Then; perhaps; my dear;〃 she said to her husband; 〃he is
the quarantine。〃 〃No; my love;〃 replied her husband。 〃The
quarantine is not a person; it is a place where they put people〃;
but she would not be comforted; and suspected the quarantine as an
enemy that might at any moment pounce out upon her and her parrots。
So a lady told me once that she had been in like trouble about the
anthem。 She read in her prayer…book that in choirs and places where
they sing 〃here followeth the anthem;〃 yet the person with this most
mysteriously sounding name never did follow。 They had a choir; and
no one could say the church was not a place where they sang; for
they did singboth chants and hymns。 Why; then; this persistent
slackness on the part of the anthem; who at this juncture should
follow her papa; the rector; into the reading…desk? No doubt he
would come some day; and then what would he be like? Fair or dark?
Tall or short? Would he be bald and wear spectacles like papa; or
would he be young and good…looking? Anyhow; there was something
wrong; for it was announced that he would follow; and he never did
follow; therefore there was no knowing what he might not do next。
I heard of the parrots a year or two later as giving lessons in
Italian to an English maid。 I do not know what their terms were。
Alas! since then both they and their mistress have joined the
majority。 When the poor lady felt her end was near she desired (and
the responsibility for this must rest with her; not me) that the
birds might be destroyed; as fearing that they might come to be
neglected; and knowing that they could never be loved again as she
had loved them。 On being told that all was over; she said; 〃Thank
you;〃 and immediately expired。
Reflecting in such random fashion; and strolling with no greater
method; I worked my way back through Cheapside and found myself once
more in front of Sweeting's window。 Again the turtles attracted me。
They were alive; and so far at any rate they agreed with me。 Nay;
they had eyes; mouths; legs; if not arms; and feet; so there was
much in which we were both of a mind; but surely they must be
mistaken in arming themselves so very heavily。 Any creature on
getting what the turtle aimed at would overreach itself and be
landed not in safety but annihilation。 It should have no communion
with the outside world at all; for death could creep in wherever the
creature could creep out; and it must creep out somewhere if it was
to hook on to outside things。 What death can be more absolute than
such absolute isolation? Perfect death; indeed; if it were
attainable (which it is not); is as near perfect security as we can
reach; but it is not the kind of security aimed at by any animal
that is at the pains of defending itself。 For such want to have
things both ways; desiring the livingness of life without its
perils; and the safety of death without its deadness; and some of us
do actually get this for a considerable time; but we do not get it
by plating ourselves with armour as the turtle does。 We tried this
in the Middle Ages; and no longer mock ourselves with the weight of
armour that our forefathers carried in battle。 Indeed the more
deadly the weapons of attack become the more we go into the fight
slug…wise。
Slugs have ridden their contempt for defensive armour as much to
death as the turtles their pursuit of it。 They have hardly more
than skin enough to hold themselves together; they court death every
time they cross the road。 Yet death comes not to them more than to
the turtle; whose defences are so great that there is little left
inside to be defended。 Moreover; the slugs fare best in the long
run; for turtles are dying out; while slugs are not; and there must
be millions of slugs all the world over for every single turtle。 Of
the two vanities; therefore; that of the slug seems most
substantial。
In either case the creature thinks itself safe; but is sure to be
found out sooner or later; nor is it easy to explain this mockery
save by reflecting that everything must have its meat in due season;
and that meat can only be found for such a multitude of mouths by
giving everything as meat in due season to something else。 This is
like the Kilkenny cats; or robbing Peter to pay Paul; but it is the
way of the world; and as every animal must contribute in kind to the
picnic of the universe; one does not see what better arrangement
could be made than the providing each race with a hereditary
fallacy; which shall in the end get it into a scrape; but which
shall generally stand the wear and tear of life for some time。 〃Do
ut des〃 is the writing on all flesh to him that eats it; and no
creature is dearer to itself than it is to some other that would
devour it。
Nor is there any statement or proposition more invulnerable than
living forms are。 Propositions prey upon and are grounded upon one
another just like living forms。 They support one another as plants
and animals do; they are based ultimately on credit; or faith;
rather than the cash of irrefragable conviction。 The whole universe
is carried on on the credit system; and if the mutual confidence on
which it is based were to collapse; it must itself collapse
immediately。 Just or unjust; it lives by faith; it is based on
vague and impalpable opinion that by some inscrutable process passes
into will and action; and is made manifest in matter and in flesh:
it is meteoricsuspended in midair; it is the baseless fabric of a
vision so vast; so vivid; and so gorgeous that no base can seem more
broad than such stupendous baselessness; and yet any man can bring
it about his ears by being over…curious; when faith fails a system
based on faith fails also。
Whether the universe is really a paying concern; or whether it is an
inflated bubble that must burst sooner or later; this is another
matter。 If people were to demand cash payment in irrefragable
certainty for everything that they have taken hitherto as paper
money on the credit of the bank of public opinion; is there money
enough behind it all to stand so great a drain even on so great a
reserve? Probably there is not; but happily there can be no such
panic; for even though the cultured classes may do so; the
uncultured are too dull to have brains enough to commit such
stupendous folly。 It takes a long course of academic training to
educate a man up to the standard which he must reach before he can
entertain such questions seriously; and by a merciful dispensation
of Providence; university training is almost as costly as it is
unprofitable。 The majority will thus be always unable to afford it;
and will base their opinions on mother wit and current opinion
rather than on demonstration。
So I turned my steps homewards; I saw a good many more things on my
way home; but I was told that I was not to see more this time than I
could get into twelve pages of the Universal Review; I must
therefore reserve any remark which I think might perhaps entertain
the reader for another occasion。
THE AUNT; THE NIECES; AND THE DOG {3}
When a thing is old; broken; and useless we throw it on the dust…
heap; but when it is sufficiently old; sufficiently broken; and
sufficiently useless we give money for it; put it into a museum; and
read papers over it which people come long distances to hear。 By…
and…by; when the whirligig of time has brought on another revenge;
the museum itself becomes a dust…heap; and remains so till after
long ages it is re…discovered; and valued as belonging to a neo…
rubbish agecontaining; perhaps; traces of a still older paleo…
rubbish civilisation。 So when people are old; indigent; and in all
respects incapable; we hold them in greater and greater contempt as
their poverty and impotence increase; till they reach the pitch when
they are actually at the point to die; whereon they become sublime。
Then we place every resource our hospitals can command at their
disposal; and show no stint in our consideration for them。
It is the same with all our interests。 We care most about extremes
of importance and of unimportance; but extremes of importance are
tainted with fear; and a very imperfect fear casteth out love。
Extremes of unimportance cannot hurt us; therefore we are well
disposed towards them; the means may come to do so; therefore we do
not love them。 Hence we pick a fly out of a milk…jug and watch with
pleasure over its recovery; for we are confident that under no
conceivable circumstances will it want to borrow money from us; but
we feel less sure about a mouse; so we show it no quarter。 The
compilers of our almanacs well know this tendency of our natures; so
they tell us; not when Noah went into the ark; nor when the temple
of Jerusalem was dedicated; but that Lindley Murray; grammarian;
died January 16; 1826。 This is not because they could no