idle ideas in 1905-第22节

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mourning　American　professors；　I　can　assure　them　that　they　do　not
mourn　alone。　　I　live　not　far　from　Oxford；　and　enjoy　the　advantage　of
occasionally　listening　to　the　jeremiads　of　English　University
professors。　　More　than　once　a　German　professor　has　done　me　the　honour
to　employ　me　as　an　object　on　which　to　sharpen　his　English。　　He　also
has　mourned　similar　lack　of　ideals　at　Heidelberg；　at　Bonn。　　Youth　is
youth　all　the　world　over；　it　has　its　own　ideals；　they　are　not　those
of　the　University　professor。　　The　explanation　is　tolerably　simple。
Youth　is　young；　and　the　University　professor；　generally　speaking；　is
middle…aged。

I　can　sympathise　with　the　mourning　professor。　　I；　in　my　time；　have
suffered　like　despair。　　I　remember　the　day　so　well；　it　was　my　twelfth
birthday。　　I　recall　the　unholy　joy　with　which　I　reflected　that　for
the　future　my　unfortunate　parents　would　be　called　upon　to　pay　for　me
full　railway　fare；　it　marked　a　decided　step　towards　manhood。　　I　was
now　in　my　teens。　　That　very　afternoon　there　came　to　visit　us　a
relative　of　ours。　　She　brought　with　her　three　small　children：　　a
girl；　aged　six；　a　precious；　golden…haired　thing　in　a　lace　collar　that
called　itself　a　boy；　aged　five；　and　a　third　still　smaller　creature；
it　might　have　been　male；　it　might　have　been　female；　I　could　not　have
told　you　at　the　time；　I　cannot　tell　you　now。　　This　collection　of
atoms　was　handed　over　to　me。

〃Now；　show　yourself　a　man；〃　said　my　dear　mother；　〃remember　you　are　in
your　teens。　　Take　them　out　for　a　walk　and　amuse　them；　and　mind
nothing　happens　to　them。〃

To　the　children　themselves　their　own　mother　gave　instructions　that
they　were　to　do　everything　that　I　told　them；　and　not　to　tear　their
clothes　or　make　themselves　untidy。　　These　directions；　even　to　myself；
at　the　time；　appeared　contradictory。　　But　I　said　nothing。　　And　out
into　the　wilds　the　four　of　us　departed。

I　was　an　only　child。　　My　own　infancy　had　passed　from　my　memory。　　To
me；　at　twelve；　the　ideas　of　six　were　as　incomprehensible　as　are　those
of　twenty　to　the　University　professor　of　forty。　　I　wanted　to　be　a
pirate。　　Round　the　corner　and　across　the　road　building　operations
were　in　progress。　　Planks　and　poles　lay　ready　to　one's　hand。　　Nature；
in　the　neighbourhood；　had　placed　conveniently　a　shallow　pond。　　It　was
Saturday　afternoon。　　The　nearest　public…house　was　a　mile　away。
Immunity　from　interference　by　the　British　workman　was　thus　assured。
It　occurred　to　me　that　by　placing　my　three　depressed　looking
relatives　on　one　raft；　attacking　them　myself　from　another；　taking　the
eldest　girl's　sixpence　away　from　her；　disabling　their　raft；　and
leaving　them　to　drift　without　a　rudder；　innocent　amusement　would　be
provided　for　half　an　hour　at　least。

They　did　not　want　to　play　at　pirates。　　At　first　sight　of　the　pond　the
thing　that　called　itself　a　boy　began　to　cry。　　The　six…year…old　lady
said　she　did　not　like　the　smell　of　it。　　Not　even　after　I　had
explained　the　game　to　them　were　they　any　the　more　enthusiastic　for
it。

I　proposed　Red　Indians。　　They　could　go　to　sleep　in　the　unfinished
building　upon　a　sack　of　lime；　I　would　creep　up　through　the　grass；　set
fire　to　the　house；　and　dance　round　it；　whooping　and　waving　my
tomahawk；　watching　with　fiendish　delight　the　frantic　but　futile
efforts　of　the　palefaces　to　escape　their　doom。

It　did　not　〃catch　on〃not　even　that。　　The　precious　thing　in　the　lace
collar　began　to　cry　again。　　The　creature　concerning　whom　I　could　not
have　told　you　whether　it　was　male　or　female　made　no　attempt　at
argument；　but　started　to　run；　it　seemed　to　have　taken　a　dislike　to
this　particular　field。　　It　stumbled　over　a　scaffolding　pole；　and　then
it　also　began　to　cry。　　What　could　one　do　to　amuse　such　people？　　I
left　it　to　them　to　propose　something。　　They　thought　they　would　like
to　play　at　〃Mothers〃not　in　this　field；　but　in　some　other　field。

The　eldest　girl　would　be　mother。　　The　other　two　would　represent　her
children。　　They　had　been　taken　suddenly　ill。　　〃Waterworks；〃　as　I　had
christened　him；　was　to　hold　his　hands　to　his　middle　and　groan。　　His
face　brightened　up　at　the　suggestion。　　The　nondescript　had　the
toothache。　　It　took　up　its　part　without　a　moment's　hesitation；　and
set　to　work　to　scream。　　I　could　be　the　doctor　and　look　at　their
tongues。

That　was　their　〃ideal〃　game。　　As　I　have　said；　remembering　that
afternoon；　I　can　sympathise　with　the　University　professor　mourning
the　absence　of　University　ideals　in　youth。　　Possibly　at　six　my　own
ideal　game　may　have　been　〃Mothers。〃　　Looking　back　from　the　pile　of
birthdays　upon　which　I　now　stand；　it　occurs　to　me　that　very　probably
it　was。　　But　from　the　perspective　of　twelve；　the　reflection　that
there　were　beings　in　the　world　who　could　find　recreation　in　such
fooling　saddened　me。

Eight　years　later；　his　father　not　being　able　to　afford　the　time；　I
conducted　Master　〃Waterworks；〃　now　a　healthy；　uninteresting；　gawky
lad；　to　a　school　in　Switzerland。　　It　was　my　first　Continental　trip。
I　should　have　enjoyed　it　better　had　he　not　been　with　me。　　He　thought
Paris　a　〃beastly　hole。〃　　He　did　not　share　my　admiration　for　the
Frenchwoman；　he　even　thought　her　badly　dressed。

〃Why　she's　so　tied　up；　she　can't　walk　straight；〃　was　the　only
impression　she　left　upon　him。

We　changed　the　subject；　it　irritated　me　to　hear　him　talk。　　The
beautiful　Juno…like　creatures　we　came　across　further　on　in　Germany；
he　said　were　too　fat。　　He　wanted　to　see　them　run。　　I　found　him
utterly　soulless。

To　expect　a　boy　to　love　learning　and　culture　is　like　expecting　him　to
prefer　old　vintage　claret　to　gooseberry　wine。　　Culture　for　the
majority　is　an　acquired　taste。　　Speaking　personally；　I　am　entirely　in
agreement　with　the　University　professor。　　I　find　knowledge；　prompting
to　observation　and　leading　to　reflection；　the　most　satisfactory
luggage　with　which　a　traveller　through　life　can　provide　himself。　　I
would　that　I　had　more　of　it。　　To　be　able　to　enjoy　a　picture　is　of
more　advantage　than　to　be　able　to　buy　it。

All　that　the　University　professor　can　urge　in　favour　of　idealism　I　am
prepared　to　endorse。　　But　then　I　amlet　us　say；　thirty…nine。　　At
fourteen　my　candid　opinion　was　that　he　was　talking　〃rot。〃　　I　looked
at　the　old　gentleman　himselfa　narrow…chested；　spectacled　old
gentleman；　who　lived　up　a　by　street。　　He　did　not　seem　to　have　much
fun　of　any　sort。　　It　was　not　my　ideal。　　He　told　me　things　had　been
written　in　a　language　called　Greek　that　I　should　enjoy　reading；　but　I
had　not　even　read　all　Captain　Marryat。　　There　were　tales　by　Sir
Walter　Scott　and　〃Jack　Harkaway's　Schooldays！〃　　I　felt　I　could　wait　a
while。　　There　was　a　chap　called　Aristophanes　who　had　written
comedies；　satirising　the　political　institutions　of　a　country　that　had
disappeared　two　thousand　years　ago。　　I　say；　without　shame；　Drury　Lane
pantomime　and　Barnum's　Circus　called　to　me　more　strongly。

Wishing　to　give　the　old　gentleman　a　chance；　I　dipped　into
translations。　　Some　of　these　old　fellows　were　not　as　bad　as　I　had
imagined　them。　　A　party　named　Homer　had　written　some　really
interesting　stuff。　　Here　and　there；　maybe；　he　was　a　bit　long…winded；
but；　taking　him　as　a　whole；　there　was　〃go〃　in　him。　　There　was　another
of　themOvid　was　his　name。　　He　could　tell　a　story；　Ovid　could。　　He
had　imagination。　　He　was　almost　as　good　as　〃Robinson　Crusoe。〃　　I
thought　it　would　please　my　professor；　telling　him　that　I　was　reading
these；　his　favourite　authors。

〃Reading　them！〃　he　cried；　〃but　you　don't　know　Greek　or　Latin。〃

〃But　I　know　English；〃　I　answered；　〃they　have　all　been　translated　into
English。　　You　never　told　me　that！〃

It　appeared　it　was　not　the　same　thing。　　There　were　subtle　delicacies
of　diction　bound　to　escape　even　the　best　translator。　　These　subtle
delicacies　of　diction　I　could　enjoy　only　by　devoting　the　next　seven
or　eight　years　of　my　life　to　the　study　of　Greek　and　Latin。　　It　will
grieve　the　University　professor　to　hear　it；　but　the　enjoyment　of
those　subtle　delicacies　of　diction　did　not　appear　to　meI　was　only
fourteen　at　the　time；　please　rememberto　be　worth　the　time　and
trouble。

The　boy　is　materially　inclinedthe　mourning　American　professor　has
discovered　it。　　I　did　not　want　to　be　an　idealist　living　up　a　back
street。　　I　wanted　to　live　in　the　biggest　house　in　the　best　street　of
the　town。　　I　wanted　to　ride　a　horse；　wear　a　fur　coat；　and　have　as
much　to　eat　and　drink　as　ever　I　liked。　　I　wanted　to　marry　the　most
beautiful　woman　in　the　world；　to　have　my　name　in　the　newspaper；　and
to　know　that　everybody　was　envying　me。

Mourn　over　it；　my　dear　professor；　as　you　willthat　is　the　ideal　of
youth；　and；　so　long　as　human　nature　remains　what　it　is；　will　continue
to　be　so。　　It　is　a　materialistic　ideala　sordid　ideal。　　Maybe　it　is
necessary。　　Maybe　the　world　would　not　move　much　if　the　young　men
started　thinking　too　early。　　They　want　to　be　rich；　so　they　fling
themselves　frenziedly　into　the　struggle。　　They　build　the　towns；　and
make　the　railway　tracks；　hew　down　the　forests；　dig　the　ore　out　of　the
ground。　　There　comes　a　day　when　it　is　borne　in　upon　them　that　trying
to　get　rich　is　a　poor　sort　of　gamethat　there　is　only　one　thing　more
tiresome　than　being　a　millionaire；　and　that　is　trying　to　be　a
millionaire。　　But；　meanwhile；　the　world　has　got　its　work　d