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an inland voyage-第17部分

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er eye; seeking approval。  His  wife appeared now and again in the doorway of the room; where she  was superintending dinner; with a 'Henri; you forget yourself;' or  a 'Henri; you can surely talk without making such a noise。'   Indeed; that was what the honest fellow could not do。  On the most  trifling matter his eyes kindled; his fist visited the table; and  his voice rolled abroad in changeful thunder。  I never saw such a  petard of a man; I think the devil was in him。  He had two  favourite expressions:  'it is logical;' or illogical; as the case  might be:  and this other; thrown out with a certain bravado; as a  man might unfurl a banner; at the beginning of many a long and  sonorous story:  'I am a proletarian; you see。'  Indeed; we saw it  very well。  God forbid that ever I should find him handling a gun  in Paris streets!  That will not be a good moment for the general  public。

I thought his two phrases very much represented the good and evil  of his class; and to some extent of his country。  It is a strong  thing to say what one is; and not be ashamed of it; even although  it be in doubtful taste to repeat the statement too often in one  evening。  I should not admire it in a duke; of course; but as times  go; the trait is honourable in a workman。  On the other hand; it is  not at all a strong thing to put one's reliance upon logic; and our  own logic particularly; for it is generally wrong。  We never know  where we are to end; if once we begin following words or doctors。   There is an upright stock in a man's own heart; that is trustier  than any syllogism; and the eyes; and the sympathies and appetites;  know a thing or two that have never yet been stated in controversy。   Reasons are as plentiful as blackberries; and; like fisticuffs;  they serve impartially with all sides。  Doctrines do not stand or  fall by their proofs; and are only logical in so far as they are  cleverly put。  An able controversialist no more than an able  general demonstrates the justice of his cause。  But France is all  gone wandering after one or two big words; it will take some time  before they can be satisfied that they are no more than words;  however big; and when once that is done; they will perhaps find  logic less diverting。

The conversation opened with details of the day's shooting。  When  all the sportsmen of a village shoot over the village territory PRO  INDIVISO; it is plain that many questions of etiquette and priority  must arise。

'Here now;' cried the landlord; brandishing a plate; 'here is a  field of beet…root。  Well。  Here am I then。  I advance; do I not?   EH BIEN! SACRISTI;' and the statement; waxing louder; rolls off  into a reverberation of oaths; the speaker glaring about for  sympathy; and everybody nodding his head to him in the name of  peace。

The ruddy Northman told some tales of his own prowess in keeping  order:  notably one of a Marquis。

'Marquis;' I said; 'if you take another step I fire upon you。  You  have committed a dirtiness; Marquis。'

Whereupon; it appeared; the Marquis touched his cap and withdrew。

The landlord applauded noisily。  'It was well done;' he said。  'He  did all that he could。  He admitted he was wrong。'  And then oath  upon oath。  He was no marquis…lover either; but he had a sense of  justice in him; this proletarian host of ours。

From the matter of hunting; the talk veered into a general  comparison of Paris and the country。  The proletarian beat the  table like a drum in praise of Paris。  'What is Paris?  Paris is  the cream of France。  There are no Parisians:  it is you and I and  everybody who are Parisians。  A man has eighty chances per cent。 to  get on in the world in Paris。'  And he drew a vivid sketch of the  workman in a den no bigger than a dog…hutch; making articles that  were to go all over the world。  'EH BIEN; QUOI; C'EST MAGNIFIQUE;  CA!' cried he。

The sad Northman interfered in praise of a peasant's life; he  thought Paris bad for men and women; 'CENTRALISATION;' said he …

But the landlord was at his throat in a moment。  It was all  logical; he showed him; and all magnificent。  'What a spectacle!   What a glance for an eye!'  And the dishes reeled upon the table  under a cannonade of blows。

Seeking to make peace; I threw in a word in praise of the liberty  of opinion in France。  I could hardly have shot more amiss。  There  was an instant silence; and a great wagging of significant heads。   They did not fancy the subject; it was plain; but they gave me to  understand that the sad Northman was a martyr on account of his  views。  'Ask him a bit;' said they。  'Just ask him。'

'Yes; sir;' said he in his quiet way; answering me; although I had  not spoken; 'I am afraid there is less liberty of opinion in France  than you may imagine。'  And with that he dropped his eyes; and  seemed to consider the subject at an end。

Our curiosity was mightily excited at this。  How; or why; or when;  was this lymphatic bagman martyred?  We concluded at once it was on  some religious question; and brushed up our memories of the  Inquisition; which were principally drawn from Poe's horrid story;  and the sermon in TRISTRAM SHANDY; I believe。

On the morrow we had an opportunity of going further into the  question; for when we rose very early to avoid a sympathising  deputation at our departure; we found the hero up before us。  He  was breaking his fast on white wine and raw onions; in order to  keep up the character of martyr; I conclude。  We had a long  conversation; and made out what we wanted in spite of his reserve。   But here was a truly curious circumstance。  It seems possible for  two Scotsmen and a Frenchman to discuss during a long half…hour;  and each nationality have a different idea in view throughout。  It  was not till the very end that we discovered his heresy had been  political; or that he suspected our mistake。  The terms and spirit  in which he spoke of his political beliefs were; in our eyes;  suited to religious beliefs。  And VICE VERSA。

Nothing could be more characteristic of the two countries。   Politics are the religion of France; as Nanty Ewart would have  said; 'A d…d bad religion'; while we; at home; keep most of our  bitterness for little differences about a hymn…book; or a Hebrew  word which perhaps neither of the parties can translate。  And  perhaps the misconception is typical of many others that may never  be cleared up:  not only between people of different race; but  between those of different sex。

As for our friend's martyrdom; he was a Communist; or perhaps only  a Communard; which is a very different thing; and had lost one or  more situations in consequence。  I think he had also been rejected  in marriage; but perhaps he had a sentimental way of considering  business which deceived me。  He was a mild; gentle creature;  anyway; and I hope he has got a better situation; and married a  more suitable wife since then。



DOWN THE OISE



TO MOY


CARNIVAL notoriously cheated us at first。  Finding us easy in our  ways; he regretted having let us off so cheaply; and taking me  aside; told me a cock…and…bull story with the moral of another five  francs for the narrator。  The thing was palpably absurd; but I paid  up; an
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