essays on life, art and science-第2章

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there　were　few　to　praise　her；　and　of　those　few　still　fewer　could
bring　themselves　to　like　her；　indeed；　Wordsworth　himself　seems　to
have　been　the　only　person　who　thought　much　about　her　one　way　or　the
other。　　In　like　manner；　I　believe　I　was　the　only　reader　who　thought
much　one　way　or　the　other　about　Frost's　〃Lives　of　Eminent
Christians；〃　but　this　in　itself　was　one　of　the　attractions　of　the
book；　and　as　for　the　grief　we　respectively　felt　and　feel；　I　believe
my　own　to　be　as　deep　as　Wordsworth's；　if　not　more　so。

I　said　above；　〃as　Wordsworth　is　generally　supposed　to　have　felt〃；
for　any　one　imbued　with　the　spirit　of　modern　science　will　read
Wordsworth's　poem　with　different　eyes　from　those　of　a　mere　literary
critic。　　He　will　note　that　Wordsworth　is　most　careful　not　to　explain
the　nature　of　the　difference　which　the　death　of　Lucy　will　occasion
to　him。　　He　tells　us　that　there　will　be　a　difference；　but　there　the
matter　ends。　　The　superficial　reader　takes　it　that　he　was　very　sorry
she　was　dead；　it　is；　of　course；　possible　that　he　may　have　actually
been　so；　but　he　has　not　said　this。　　On　the　contrary；　he　has　hinted
plainly　that　she　was　ugly；　and　generally　disliked；　she　was　only　like
a　violet　when　she　was　half…hidden　from　the　view；　and　only　fair　as　a
star　when　there　were　so　few　stars　out　that　it　was　practically
impossible　to　make　an　invidious　comparison。　　If　there　were　as　many
as　even　two　stars　the　likeness　was　felt　to　be　at　an　end。　　If
Wordsworth　had　imprudently　promised　to　marry　this　young　person
during　a　time　when　he　had　been　unusually　long　in　keeping　to　good
resolutions；　and　had　afterwards　seen　some　one　whom　he　liked　better；
then　Lucy's　death　would　undoubtedly　have　made　a　considerable
difference　to　him；　and　this　is　all　that　he　has　ever　said　that　it
would　do。　　What　right　have　we　to　put　glosses　upon　the　masterly
reticence　of　a　poet；　and　credit　him　with　feelings　possibly　the　very
reverse　of　those　he　actually　entertained？

Sometimes；　indeed；　I　have　been　inclined　to　think　that　a　mystery　is
being　hinted　at　more　dark　than　any　critic　has　suspected。　　I　do　not
happen　to　possess　a　copy　of　the　poem；　but　the　writer；　if　I　am　not
mistaken；　says　that　〃few　could　know　when　Lucy　ceased　to　be。〃
〃Ceased　to　be〃　is　a　suspiciously　euphemistic　expression；　and　the
words　〃few　could　know〃　are　not　applicable　to　the　ordinary　peaceful
death　of　a　domestic　servant　such　as　Lucy　appears　to　have　been。　　No
matter　how　obscure　the　deceased；　any　number　of　people　commonly　can
know　the　day　and　hour　of　his　or　her　demise；　whereas　in　this　case　we
are　expressly　told　it　would　be　impossible　for　them　to　do　so。
Wordsworth　was　nothing　if　not　accurate；　and　would　not　have　said　that
few　could　know；　but　that　few　actually　did　know；　unless　he　was　aware
of　circumstances　that　precluded　all　but　those　implicated　in　the
crime　of　her　death　from　knowing　the　precise　moment　of　its
occurrence。　　If　Lucy　was　the　kind　of　person　not　obscurely　pourtrayed
in　the　poem；　if　Wordsworth　had　murdered　her；　either　by　cutting　her
throat　or　smothering　her；　in　concert；　perhaps；　with　his　friends
Southey　and　Coleridge；　and　if　he　had　thus　found　himself　released
from　an　engagement　which　had　become　irksome　to　him；　or　possibly　from
the　threat　of　an　action　for　breach　of　promise；　then　there　is　not　a
syllable　in　the　poem　with　which　he　crowns　his　crime　that　is　not
alive　with　meaning。　　On　any　other　supposition　to　the　general　reader
it　is　unintelligible。

We　cannot　be　too　guarded　in　the　interpretations　we　put　upon　the
words　of　great　poets。　　Take　the　young　lady　who　never　loved　the　dear
gazelleand　I　don't　believe　she　did；　we　are　apt　to　think　that　Moore
intended　us　to　see　in　this　creation　of　his　fancy　a　sweet；　amiable；
but　most　unfortunate　young　woman；　whereas　all　he　has　told　us　about
her　points　to　an　exactly　opposite　conclusion。　　In　reality；　he　wished
us　to　see　a　young　lady　who　had　been　an　habitual　complainer　from　her
earliest　childhood；　whose　plants　had　always　died　as　soon　as　she
bought　them；　while　those　belonging　to　her　neighbours　had　flourished。
The　inference　is　obvious；　nor　can　we　reasonably　doubt　that　Moore
intended　us　to　draw　it；　if　her　plants　were　the　very　first　to　fade
away；　she　was　evidently　the　very　first　to　neglect　or　otherwise
maltreat　them。　　She　did　not　give　them　enough　water；　or　left　the　door
of　her　fern…ease　open　when　she　was　cooking　her　dinner　at　the　gas
stove；　or　kept　them　too　near　the　paraffin　oil；　or　other　like　folly；
and　as　for　her　temper；　see　what　the　gazelles　did；　as　long　as　they
did　not　know　her　〃well；〃　they　could　just　manage　to　exist；　but　when
they　got　to　understand　her　real　character；　one　after　another　felt
that　death　was　the　only　course　open　to　it；　and　accordingly　died
rather　than　live　with　such　a　mistress。　　True；　the　young　lady　herself
said　the　gazelles　loved　her；　but　disagreeable　people　are　apt　to
think　themselves　amiable；　and　in　view　of　the　course　invariably　taken
by　the　gazelles　themselves　any　one　accustomed　to　weigh　evidence　will
hold　that　she　was　probably　mistaken。

I　must；　however；　return　to　Frost's　〃Lives　of　Eminent　Christians。〃　　I
will　leave　none　of　the　ambiguity　about　my　words　in　which　Moore　and
Wordsworth　seem　to　have　delighted。　　I　am　very　sorry　the　book　is
gone；　and　know　not　where　to　turn　for　its　successor。　　Till　I　have
found　a　substitute　I　can　write　no　more；　and　I　do　not　know　how　to
find　even　a　tolerable　one。　　I　should　try　a　volume　of　Migne's
〃Complete　Course　of　Patrology；〃　but　I　do　not　like　books　in　more　than
one　volume；　for　the　volumes　vary　in　thickness；　and　one　never　can
remember　which　one　took；　the　four　volumes；　however；　of　Bede　in
Giles's　〃Anglican　Fathers〃　are　not　open　to　this　objection；　and　I
have　reserved　them　for　favourable　consideration。　　Mather's
〃Magnalia〃　might　do；　but　the　binding　does　not　please　me；　Cureton's
〃Corpus　Ignatianum〃　might　also　do　if　it　were　not　too　thin。　　I　do　not
like　taking　Norton's　〃Genuineness　of　the　Gospels；〃　as　it　is　just
possible　some　one　may　be　wanting　to　know　whether　the　Gospels　are
genuine　or　not；　and　be　unable　to　find　out　because　I　have　got　Mr。
Norton's　book。　　Baxter's　〃Church　History　of　England；〃　Lingard's
〃Anglo…Saxon　Church；〃　and　Cardwell's　〃Documentary　Annals；〃　though
none　of　them　as　good　as　Frost；　are　works　of　considerable　merit；　but
on　the　whole　I　think　Arvine's　〃Cyclopedia　of　Moral　and　Religious
Anecdote〃　is　perhaps　the　one　book　in　the　room　which　comes　within
measurable　distance　of　Frost。　　I　should　probably　try　this　book
first；　but　it　has　a　fatal　objection　in　its　too　seductive　title。　　〃I
am　not　curious；〃　as　Miss　Lottie　Venne　says　in　one　of　her　parts；　〃but
I　like　to　know；〃　and　I　might　be　tempted　to　pervert　the　book　from　its
natural　uses　and　open　it；　so　as　to　find　out　what　kind　of　a　thing　a
moral　and　religious　anecdote　is。　　I　know；　of　course；　that　there　are
a　great　many　anecdotes　in　the　Bible；　but　no　one　thinks　of　calling
them　either　moral　or　religious；　though　some　of　them　certainly　seem
as　if　they　might　fairly　find　a　place　in　Mr。　Arvine's　work。　　There
are　some　things；　however；　which　it　is　better　not　to　know；　and　take
it　all　round　I　do　not　think　I　should　be　wise　in　putting　myself　in
the　way　of　temptation；　and　adopting　Arvine　as　the　successor　to　my
beloved　and　lamented　Frost。

Some　successor　I　must　find；　or　I　must　give　up　writing　altogether；
and　this　I　should　be　sorry　to　do。　　I　have　only　as　yet　written　about
a　third；　or　from　thatcounting　works　written　but　not　publishedto
a　half；　of　the　books　which　I　have　set　myself　to　write。　　It　would　not
so　much　matter　if　old　age　was　not　staring　me　in　the　face。　　Dr。　Parr
said　it　was　〃a　beastly　shame　for　an　old　man　not　to　have　laid　down　a
good　cellar　of　port　in　his　youth〃；　I；　like　the　greater　number；　I
suppose；　of　those　who　write　books　at　all；　write　in　order　that　I　may
have　something　to　read　in　my　old　age　when　I　can　write　no　longer。　　I
know　what　I　shall　like　better　than　any　one　can　tell　me；　and　write
accordingly；　if　my　career　is　nipped　in　the　bud；　as　seems　only　too
likely；　I　really　do　not　know　where　else　I　can　turn　for　present
agreeable　occupation；　nor　yet　how　to　make　suitable　provision　for　my
later　years。　　Other　writers　can；　of　course；　make　excellent　provision
for　their　own　old　ages；　but　they　cannot　do　so　for　mine；　any　more
than　I　should　succeed　if　I　were　to　try　to　cater　for　theirs。　　It　is
one　of　those　cases　in　which　no　man　can　make　agreement　for　his
brother。

I　have　no　heart　for　continuing　this　article；　and　if　I　had；　I　have
nothing　of　interest　to　say。　　No　one's　literary　career　can　have　been
smoother　or　more　unchequered　than　mine。　　I　have　published　all　my
books　at　my　own　expense；　and　paid　for　them　in　due　course。　　What　can
be　conceivably　more　unromantic？　　For　some　years　I　had　a　little
literary　grievance　against　the　authorities　of　the　British　Museum
because　they　would　insist　on　saying　in　their　catalogue　that　I　had
published　three　sermons　on　Infidelity　in　the　year　1820。　　I　thought　I
had　not；　and　got　them　out　to　see。　　They　were　rather　funny；　but　they
were　not　mine。　　Now；　however；　this　grievance　has　been　removed。　　I
had　another　little　quarrel　with　them　because　they　would　describe　me
as　〃of　St。　John's　College；　Cambridge；〃　an　establishment　for　which　I
have　the　most　profound　veneration；　but　with　which　I　have　not　had　the
honour　to　be　connected　for　some　quarter　of　a　century。　　At　last　they
said　they　would　change　this　description　if　I　would　only　tell　them
what　I　was；　for；　though　they　had　done　their　best　to　find　out；　they
had　themselves　failed。　　I　replied　with　modest　pride　that　I　was　a
Bachelor　of　Arts。　　I　keep　all　my　other　letters　inside　my　name；　not
outside。　　They　mused　and　said　it　was　unfortunate　that　I　was　not　a
Master　of　Arts。　　Could　I　not　get　myself　made　a　Master？　　I　said　I
understood　that　a　Mastership　was　an　article　the　University　could　not
do　under　about　five　pounds；　and　that　I　was　not　disposed　to　go
sixpence　higher　than　three　ten。　　They　again　said　it　was　a　pity；　for
it　would　be　very　inconvenient　to　them　if　I　did　not　keep　to　something
between　a　bishop　and　a　poet。　　I　might　be　anything　I　liked　in　reason；
provided　I　showed　proper　respect　for　the　alphabet；　but　they　had　got
me　between　〃Samuel　Butler；　bishop；〃　and　〃Samuel　Butler；　poet。〃　　It
would　be　very　troublesome　to　shift　me；　and　bachelor　came　before
bishop。　　This　was　reasonable；　so　I　replied　that；　under　those
circumstances；　if　they　pleased；　I　thought　I　would　like　to　be　a
philosophical　writer。　　They　embraced　the　solution；　and；　no　matter
what　I　write　now；　I　must　remain　a　philosophical　writer　as　long　as　I
live；　for　the　alphabet　will　hardly　be　altered　in　my　time；　and　I　must
be　something　between　〃Bis〃　and　〃Poe。〃　　If　I　could　get　a　volume　of　my
excellent　namesake's　〃Hudibras〃　out　of　the　list　of　my　works；　I
should　be　robbed　of　my　last　shred　of　literary　grievance；　so　I　say
nothing　about　this；　but　keep　it　secret；　lest　some　worse　thing　should
happen　to　me。　　Besides；　I　have　a　great　respect　for　my　namesake；　and
always　say　that　if　〃Erewhon〃　had　been　a　racehorse　it　would　have　been
got　by　〃Hudibras〃　out　of　〃Analogy。〃　　Some　one　said　this　to　me　many
years　ago；　and　I　felt　so　much　flattered　that　I　have　been　repeating
the　remark　as　my　own　ever　since。

But　how　small　are　these　grievances　as　compared　with　those　endured
without　a　murmur　by　hundre