四季随笔-the private papers of henry ryecroft(英文版)-第3节

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ing　for　a　long　time；　every　muscle　in　his　face　quivered　as　if　under　torture；　his　limbs　shook；　his　eyes；　his　voice；　uttered　such　misery　as　only　the　vilest　criminal　should　be　made　to　suffer。　And　it　was　because　he　had　lost　sixpence！
I　could　have　shed　tears　with　him……tears　of　pity　and　of　rage　at　all　this　spectacle　implied。　On　a　day　of　indescribable　glory；　when　earth　and　heaven　shed　benedictions　upon　the　soul　of　man；　a　child；　whose　nature　would　have　bidden　him　rejoice　as　only　childhood　may；　wept　his　heart　out　because　his　hand　had　dropped　a　sixpenny　piece！　The　loss　was　a　very　serious　one；　and　he　knew　it；　he　was　less　afraid　to　face　his　parents；　than　overe　by　misery　at　the　thought　of　the　harm　he　had　done　them。　Sixpence　dropped　by　the　wayside；　and　a　whole　family　made　wretched！　What　are　the　due　descriptive　terms　for　a　state　of　〃civilization〃　in　which　such　a　thing　as　this　is　possible？
I　put　my　hand　into　my　pocket；　and　wrought　sixpennyworth　of　miracle。
It　took　me　half　an　hour　to　recover　my　quiet　mind。　After　all；　it　is　as　idle　to　rage　against　man's　fatuity　as　to　hope　that　he　will　ever　be　less　a　fool。　For　me；　the　great　thing　was　my　sixpenny　miracle。　Why；　I　have　known　the　day　when　it　would　have　been　beyond　my　power　altogether；　or　else　would　have　cost　me　a　meal。　Wherefore；　let　me　again　be　glad　and　thankful。
IV
There　was　a　time　in　my　life　when；　if　I　had　suddenly　been　set　in　the　position　I　now　enjoy；　conscience　would　have　lain　in　ambush　for　me。　What！　An　ine　sufficient　to　support　three　or　four　working…class　families……a　house　all　to　myself……things　beautiful　wherever　I　turn……　and　absolutely　nothing　to　do　for　it　all！　I　should　have　been　hard　put　to　it　to　defend　myself。　In　those　days　I　was　feelingly　reminded；　hour　by　hour；　with　what　a　struggle　the　obscure　multitudes　manage　to　keep　alive。　Nobody　kno　parvo　liceat　producere　vitam。　I　have　hungered　in　the　streets；　I　have　laid　my　head　in　the　poorest　shelter；　I　know　what　it　is　to　feel　the　heart　burn　with　wrath　and　envy　of　〃the　privileged　classes。〃　Yes；　but　all　that　time　I　was　one　of　〃the　privileged〃　myself；　and　now　I　can　accept　a　recognized　standing　among　them　without　shadow　of　self…reproach。
It　does　not　mean　that　my　larger　sympathies　are　blunted。　By　going　to　certain　places；　looking　upon　certain　scenes；　I　could　most　effectually　destroy　all　the　calm　that　life　has　brought　me。　If　I　hold　apart　and　purposely　refuse　to　look　that　way；　it　is　because　I　believe　that　the　world　is　better；　not　worse；　for　having　one　more　inhabitant　who　lives　as　bees　a　civilized　being。　Let　him　whose　soul　prompts　him　to　assail　the　iniquity　of　things；　cry　and　spare　not；　let　him　who　has　the　vocation　go　forth　and　bat。　In　me　it　would　be　to　err　from　Nature's　guidance。　I　know；　if　I　know　anything；　that　I　am　made　for　the　life　of　tranquillity　and　meditation。　I　know　that　only　thus　can　such　virtue　as　I　possess　find　scope。　More　than　half　a　century　of　existence　has　taught　me　that　most　of　the　wrong　and　folly　which　darken　earth　is　due　to　those　who　cannot　possess　their　souls　in　quiet；　that　most　of　the　good　which　saves　mankind　from　destruction　es　of　life　that　is　led　in　thoughtful　stillness。　Every　day　the　world　grows　noisier；　I；　for　one；　will　have　no　part　in　that　increasing　clamour；　and；　were　it　only　by　my　silence；　I　confer　a　boon　on　all。
How　well　would　the　revenues　of　a　country　be　expended；　if；　by　mere　pensioning；　one…fifth　of　its　population　could　be　induced　to　live　as　I　do！
V
〃Sir；〃　said　Johnson；　〃all　the　arguments　which　are　brought　to　represent　poverty　as　no　evil；　show　it　to　be　evidently　a　great　evil。　You　never　find　people　labouring　to　convince　you　that　you　may　live　very　happily　upon　a　plentiful　fortune。〃
He　knew　what　he　was　talking　of；　that　rugged　old　master　of　mon　sense。　Poverty　is　of　course　a　relative　thing；　the　term　has　reference；　above　all；　to　one's　standing　as　an　intellectual　being。　If　I　am　to　believe　the　newspapers；　there　are　title…bearing　men　and　women　in　England　who；　had　they　an　assured　ine　of　five…and…twenty；　shillings　per　week；　would　have　no　right　to　call　themselves　poor；　for　their　intellectual　needs　are　those　of　a　stable…boy　or　scullery　wench。　Give　me　the　same　ine　and　I　can　live；　but　I　am　poor　indeed。
You　tell　me　that　money　cannot　buy　the　things　most　precious。　Your　monplace　proves　that　you　have　never　known　the　lack　of　it。　When　I　think　of　all　the　sorrow　and　the　barrenness　that　has　been　wrought　in　my　life　by　want　of　a　few　more　pounds　per　annum　than　I　was　able　to　earn；　I　stand　aghast　at　money's　significance。　What　kindly　joys　have　I　lost；　those　simple　forms　of　happiness　to　which　every　heart　has　claim；　because　of　poverty！　Meetings　with　those　I　loved　made　impossible　year　after　year；　sadness；　misunderstanding；　nay；　cruel　alienation；　arising　from　inability　to　do　the　things　I　wished；　and　which　I　might　have　done　had　a　little　money　helped　me；　endless　instances　of　homely　pleasure　and　contentment　curtailed　or　forbidden　by　narrow　means。　I　have　lost　friends　merely　through　the　constraints　of　my　position；　friends　I　might　have　made　have　remained　strangers　to　me；　solitude　of　the　bitter　kind；　the　solitude　which　is　enforced　at　times　when　mind　or　heart　longs　for　panionship；　often　cursed　my　life　solely　because　I　was　poor。　I　think　it　would　scarce　be　an　exaggeration　to　say　that　there　is　no　moral　good　which　has　not　to　be　paid　for　in　coin　of　the　realm。
〃Poverty；〃　said　Johnson　again；　〃is　so　great　an　evil；　and　pregnant　with　so　much　temptation；　so　much　misery；　that　I　cannot　but　earnestly　enjoin　you　to　avoid　it。〃
For　my　own　part；　I　needed　no　injunction　to　that　effort　of　avoidance。　Many　a　London　garret　knows　how　I　struggled　with　the　unwele　chamber…fellow。　I　marvel　she　did　not　abide　with　me　to　the　end；　it　is　a　sort　of　inconsequence　in　Nature；　and　sometimes　makes　me　vaguely　uneasy　through　nights　of　broken　sleep。
VI
How　many　more　springs　can　I　hope　to　see？　A　sanguine　temper　would　say　ten　or　twelve；　let　me　dare　to　hope　humbly　for　five　or　six。　That　is　a　great　many。　Five　or　six　spring…times；　weled　joyously；　lovingly　watched　from　the　first　celandine　to　the　budding　of　the　rose；　who　shall　dare　to　call　it　a　stinted　boon？　Five　or　six　times　the　miracle　of　earth　reclad；　the　vision　of　splendour　and　loveliness　which　tongue　has　never　yet　described；　set　before　my　gazing。　To　think　of　it　is　to　fear　that　I　ask　too　much。
VII
〃Homo　animal　querulum　cupide　suis　incumbens　miseriis。〃　I　wonder　where　that　es　from。　I　found　it　once　in　Charron；　quoted　without　reference；　and　it　has　often　been　in　my　mind……a　dreary　truth；　well　worded。　At　least；　it　was　a　truth　for　me　during　many　a　long　year。　Life；　I　fancy；　would　very　often　be　insupportable；　but　for　the　luxury　of　self…passion；　in　cases　numberless；　this　it　must　be　that　saves　from　suicide。　For　some　there　is　great　relief　in　talking　about　their　miseries；　but　such　gossips　lack　the　profound　solace　of　misery　nursed　in　silent　brooding。　Happily；　the　trick　with　me　has　never　been　retrospective；　indeed；　it　was　never；　even　with　regard　to　instant　suffering；　a　habit　so　deeply　rooted　as　to　bee　a　mastering　vice。　I　knew　my　own　weakness　when　I　yielded　to　it；　I　despised　myself　when　it　brought　me　fort；　I　could　laugh　scornfully；　even　〃cupide　meis　incumbens　miseriis。〃　And　now；　thanks　be　to　the　unknown　power　which　rules　us；　my　past　has　buried　its　dead。　More　than　that；　I　can　accept　with　sober　cheerfulness　the　necessity　of　all　I　lived　through。　So　it　was　to　be；　so　it　was。　For　this　did　Nature　shape　me；　with　what　purpose；　I　shall　never　know；　but；　in　the　sequence　of　things　eternal；　this　was　my　place。
Could　I　have　achieved　so　much　philosophy　if；　as　I　ever　feared；　the　closing　years　of　my　life　had　passed　in　helpless　indigence？　Should　I　not　have　sunk　into　lowest　depths　of　querulous　self…pity；　grovelling　there　with　eyes　obstinately　averted　from　the　light　above？
VIII
The　early　ing　of　spring　in　this　happy　Devon　gladdens　my　heart。　I　think　with　chill　disfort　of　those　parts　of　England　where　the　primrose　shivers　beneath　a　sky　of　threat　rather　than　of　solace。　Honest　winter；　snow…clad　and　with　the　frosted　beard；　I　can　wele　not　uncordially；　but　that　long　deferment　of　the　calendar's　promise；　that　weeping　gloom　of　March　and　April；　that　bitter　blast　outraging　the　honour　of　May……how　often　has　it　robbed　me　of　heart　and　hope。　Here；　scarce　have　I　assured　myself　that　the　last　leaf　has　fallen；　scarce　have　I　watched　the　glistening　of　hoar…frost　upon　the　evergreens；　when　a　breath　from　the　west　thrills　me　with　anticipation　of　bud　and　bloom。　Even　under　this　grey…billowing　sky；　which　tells　that　February　is　still　in　rule：…
Mild　winds　shake　the　elder　brake；　And　the　wandering　herdsmen　know　That　the　whitethorn　soon　will　blow。
I　have　been　thinking　of　those　early　years　of　mine　in　London；　when　the　seasons　passed　over　me　unobserved；　when　I　seldom　turned　a　glance　towards　the　heavens；　and　felt　no　hardship　in　the　imprisonment　of　boundless　streets。　It　is　strange　now　to　remember　that　for　some　six　or　seven　years　I　never　looked　upon　a　meadow；　never　travelled　even　so　far　as　to　the　tree…bordered　suburbs。　I　was　battling　for　dear　life；　on　most　days　I　could　not　feel　certain　that　in　a　week's　time　I　should　have　food　and　shelter。　It　would　happen；　to　be　sure；　that　in　hot　noons　of　August　my　thoughts　wandered　to　the　sea；　but　so　impossible　was　the　gratification　of　such　desire　that　it　never　greatly　troubled　me。　At　times；　indeed；　I　see