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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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