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lavengro-第81部分
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Gwilym to Glorious John。 Glorious John was no snuff…taker。 He
asked me to dinner; and treated me with superb Rhenish wine。
Glorious John is now gone to his rest; but I … what was I going to
say? … the world will never forget Glorious John。
So I returned to my last resource for the time then being … to the
publisher; persevering doggedly in my labour。 One day; on visiting
the publisher; I found him stamping with fury upon certain
fragments of paper。 'Sir;' said he; 'you know nothing of German; I
have shown your translation of the first chapter of my Philosophy
to several Germans: it is utterly unintelligible to them。' 'Did
they see the Philosophy?' I replied。 'They did; sir; but they did
not profess to understand English。' 'No more do I;' I replied;
'if that Philosophy be English。'
The publisher was furious … I was silent。 For want of a pinch of
snuff; I had recourse to something which is no bad substitute for a
pinch of snuff; to those who can't take it; silent contempt; at
first it made the publisher more furious; as perhaps a pinch of
snuff would; it; however; eventually calmed him; and he ordered me
back to my occupations; in other words; the compilation。 To be
brief; the compilation was completed; I got paid in the usual
manner; and forthwith left him。
He was a clever man; but what a difference in clever men!
CHAPTER XLIV
The old spot … A long history … Thou shalt not steal … No harm …
Education … Necessity … Foam on your lip … Apples and pears … What
will you read? … Metaphor … The fur cap … I don't know him。
IT was past midwinter; and I sat on London Bridge; in company with
the old apple…woman: she had just returned to the other side of
the bridge; to her place in the booth where I had originally found
her。 This she had done after frequent conversations with me; 'she
liked the old place best;' she said; which she would never have
left but for the terror which she experienced when the boys ran
away with her book。 So I sat with her at the old spot; one
afternoon past midwinter; reading the book; of which I had by this
time come to the last pages。 I had observed that the old woman for
some time past had shown much less anxiety about the book than she
had been in the habit of doing。 I was; however; not quite prepared
for her offering to make me a present of it; which she did that
afternoon; when; having finished it; I returned it to her; with
many thanks for the pleasure and instruction I had derived from its
perusal。 'You may keep it; dear;' said the old woman; with a sigh;
'you may carry it to your lodging; and keep it for your own。'
Looking at the old woman with surprise; I exclaimed; 'Is it
possible that you are willing to part with the book which has been
your source of comfort so long?'
Whereupon the old woman entered into a long history; from which I
gathered that the book had become distasteful to her; she hardly
ever opened it of late; she said; or if she did; it was only to
shut it again; also; that other things which she had been fond of;
though of a widely different kind; were now distasteful to her。
Porter and beef…steaks were no longer grateful to her palate; her
present diet chiefly consisting of tea; and bread and butter。
'Ah;' said I; 'you have been ill; and when people are ill; they
seldom like the things which give them pleasure when they are in
health。' I learned; moreover; that she slept little at night; and
had all kinds of strange thoughts; that as she lay awake many
things connected with her youth; which she had quite forgotten;
came into her mind。 There were certain words that came into her
mind the night before the last; which were continually humming in
her ears: I found that the words were; 'Thou shalt not steal。'
On inquiring where she had first heard these words; I learned that
she had read them at school; in a book called the primer; to this
school she had been sent by her mother; who was a poor widow; and
followed the trade of apple…selling in the very spot where her
daughter followed it now。 It seems that the mother was a very good
kind of woman; but quite ignorant of letters; the benefit of which
she was willing to procure for her child; and at the school the
daughter learned to read; and subsequently experienced the pleasure
and benefit of letters; in being able to read the book which she
found in an obscure closet of her mother's house; and which had
been her principal companion and comfort for many years of her
life。
But; as I have said before; she was now dissatisfied with the book;
and with most other things in which she had taken pleasure; she
dwelt much on the words; 'Thou shalt not steal'; she had never
stolen things herself; but then she had bought things which other
people had stolen; and which she knew had been stolen; and her dear
son had been a thief; which he perhaps would not have been but for
the example which she set him in buying things from characters; as
she called them; who associated with her。
On inquiring how she had become acquainted with these characters; I
learned that times had gone hard with her; that she had married;
but her husband had died after a long sickness; which had reduced
them to great distress; that her fruit trade was not a profitable
one; and that she had bought and sold things which had been stolen
to support herself and her son。 That for a long time she supposed
there was no harm in doing so; as her book was full of entertaining
tales of stealing; but she now thought that the book was a bad
book; and that learning to read was a bad thing; her mother had
never been able to read; but had died in peace; though poor。
So here was a woman who attributed the vices and follies of her
life to being able to read; her mother; she said; who could not
read; lived respectably; and died in peace; and what was the
essential difference between the mother and daughter; save that the
latter could read? But for her literature she might in all
probability have lived respectably and honestly; like her mother;
and might eventually have died in peace; which at present she could
scarcely hope to do。 Education had failed to produce any good in
this poor woman; on the contrary; there could be little doubt that
she had been injured by it。 Then was education a bad thing?
Rousseau was of opinion that it was; but Rousseau was a Frenchman;
at least wrote in French; and I cared not the snap of my fingers
for Rousseau。 But education has certainly been of benefit in some
instances; well; what did that prove; but that partiality existed
in the management of the affairs of the world … if education was a
benefit to some; why was it not a benefit to others? Could some
avoid abusing it; any more than others could avoid turning it to a
profitable account? I did not see how they could; t
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