the idle thoughts of an idle fellow[1].(一个浪子的随想)-第25节
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THE IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW。
What the rent of apartments must have been twenty years ago makes
one shudder to think of。 Every landlady makes you feel thoroughly
ashamed of yourself by informing you； whenever the subject crops up； that
she used to get twice as much for her rooms as you are paying。 Young men
lodgers of the last generation must have been of a wealthier class than they
are now； or they must have ruined themselves。 I should have had to live in
an attic。
Curious； that in lodgings the rule of life is reversed。 The higher you get
up in the world the lower you come down in your lodgings。 On the
lodging…house ladder the poor man is at the top； the rich man underneath。
You start in the attic and work your way down to the first floor。
A good many great men have lived in attics and some have died there。
Attics； says the dictionary； are 〃places where lumber is stored；〃 and the
world has used them to store a good deal of its lumber in at one time or
another。 Its preachers and painters and poets； its deep…browed men who
will find out things； its fire…eyed men who will tell truths that no one
wants to hearthese are the lumber that the world hides away in its attics。
Haydn grew up in an attic and Chatterton starved in one。 Addison and
Goldsmith wrote in garrets。 Faraday and De Quincey knew them well。 Dr。
Johnson camped cheerfully in them； sleeping soundlytoo soundly
sometimesupon their trundle…beds； like the sturdy old soldier of fortune
that he was； inured to hardship and all careless of himself。 Dickens spent
his youth among them； Morland his old agealas！ a drunken； premature
old age。 Hans Andersen； the fairy king； dreamed his sweet fancies beneath
their sloping roofs。 Poor； wayward…hearted Collins leaned his head upon
their crazy tables； priggish Benjamin Franklin； Savage； the wrong…headed；
much troubled when he could afford any softer bed than a doorstep； young
Bloomfield； 〃Bobby〃 Burns； Hogarth； Watts the engineerthe roll is
endless。 Ever since the habitations of men were reared two stories high has
the garret been the nursery of genius。
No one who honors the aristocracy of mind can feel ashamed of
acquaintanceship with them。 Their damp…stained walls are sacred to the
memory of noble names。 If all the wisdom of the world and all its artall
the spoils that it has won from nature； all the fire that it has snatched from
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THE IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW。
heavenwere gathered together and divided into heaps； and we could
point and say； for instance； these mighty truths were flashed forth in the
brilliant _salon_ amid the ripple of light laughter and the sparkle of bright
eyes； and this deep knowledge was dug up in the quiet study； where the
bust of Pallas looks serenely down on the leather…scented shelves； and this
heap belongs to the crowded street； and that to the daisied fieldthe heap
that would tower up high above the rest as a mountain above hills would
be the one at which we should look up and say： this noblest pile of all
these glorious paintings and this wondrous music； these trumpet words；
these solemn thoughts； these daring deeds； they were forged and fashioned
amid misery and pain in the sordid squalor of the city garret。 There； from
their eyries； while the world heaved and throbbed below； the kings of men
sent forth their eagle thoughts to wing their flight through the ages。 There；
where the sunlight streaming through the broken panes fell on rotting
boards and crumbling walls； there； from their lofty thrones； those rag…
clothed Joves have hurled their thunderbolts and shaken； before now； the
earth to its foundations。
Huddle them up in your lumber…rooms； oh； world！ Shut them fast in
and turn the key of poverty upon them。 Weld close the bars； and let them
fret their hero lives away within the narrow cage。 Leave them there to
starve； and rot； and die。 Laugh at the frenzied beatings of their hands
against the door。 Roll onward in your dust and noise and pass them by；
forgotten。
But take care lest they turn and sting you。 All do not； like the fabled
phoenix； warble sweet melodies in their agony； sometimes they spit
venomvenom you must breathe whether you will or no； for you cannot
seal their mouths； though you may fetter their limbs。 You can lock the door
upon them； but they burst open their shaky lattices and call out over the
house…tops so that men cannot but hear。 You hounded wild Rousseau into
the meanest garret of the Rue St。 Jacques and jeered at his angry shrieks。
But the thin； piping tones swelled a hundred years later into the sullen roar
of the French Revolution； and civilization to this day is quivering to the
reverberations of his voice。
As for myself； however； I like an attic。 Not to live in： as residences
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THE IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW。
they are inconvenient。 There is too much getting up and down stairs
connected with them to please me。 It puts one unpleasantly in mind of the
tread…mill。 The form of the ceiling offers too many facilities for bumping
your head and too few for shaving。 And the note of the tomcat as he sings
to his love in the stilly night outside on the tiles becomes positively
distasteful when heard so near。
No； for living in give me a suit of rooms on the first floor of a
Piccadilly mansion （I wish somebody would！）； but for thinking in let me
have an attic up ten flights of stairs in the densest quarter of the city。 I
have all Herr Teufelsdrockh's affection for attics。 There is a sublimity
about their loftiness。 I love to 〃sit at ease and look down upon the wasps'
nest beneath；〃 to listen to the dull murmur of the human tide ebbing and
flowing ceaselessly through the narrow streets and lanes below。 How
small men seem； how like a swarm of ants sweltering in endless confusion
on their tiny hill！ How petty seems the work on which they are hurrying
and skurrying！ How childishly they jostle against one another and turn to
snarl and scratch！ They jabber and screech and curse； but their puny
voices do not reach up here。 They fret； and fume； and rage； and pant； and
die； 〃but I； mein Werther； sit above it all； I am alone with the stars。〃
The most extraordinary attic I ever came across was one a friend and I
once shared many years ago。 Of all eccentrically planned things； from
Bradshaw to the maze at Hampton Court； that room was the most
eccentric。 The architect who designed it must have been a genius； though I
cannot help thinking that his talents would have been better employed in
contriving puzzles than in shaping human habitations。 No figure in Euclid
could give any idea of that apartment。 It contained seven corners； two of
the walls sloped to a point； and the window was just over the fireplace。
The only possible position for the bedstead was between the door and the
cupboard。 To get anything out of the cupboard we had to scramble over
the bed； and a large percentage of the various commodities thus obtained
was absorbed by the bedclothes。 Indeed； so many things were spilled and
dropped upon the bed that toward night…time it had become a sort of small
cooperative store。 Coal was what it always had most in stock。 We used to
keep our coal in the bottom part of the cupboard； and when any was
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THE IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW。
wanted we had to climb over the bed； fill a shovelful； and then crawl back。
It was an exciting moment when we reached the middle of the bed。 We
would hold our breath； fix our eyes upon the shovel； and poise ourselves
for the last move。 The next instant we； and the coals； and the shovel； and
the bed would be all mixed up together。
I've heard of the people going into raptures over beds of coal。 We slept
in one every night and were not in the least stuck up about it。
But our attic； unique though it was； had
