over the teacups-第1章

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Over　the　Teacups



by　Oliver　W。　Holmes









PREFACE。



The　kind　way　in　which　this　series　of　papers　has　been　received　has

been　a　pleasure　greater　than　I　dared　to　anticipate。　　I　felt　that　I

was　a　late　comer　in　the　midst　of　a　crowd　of　ardent　and　eager

candidates　for　public　attention；　that　I　had　already　had　my　day；　and

that　if；　like　the　unfortunate　Frenchman　we　used　read　about；　I　had

〃come　again；〃　I　ought　not　to　surprised　if　I　received　the　welcome　of

〃Monsieur　Tonson。〃



It　has　not　proved　so。　　My　old　readers　have　come　forward　in　the

pleasantest　possible　way　and　assured　me　that　they　were　glad　to　see　me

again。　　There　is　no　need；　therefore；　of　apologies　or　explanations。　　I

thought　I　had　something　left　to　say　and　I　have　found　listeners。　　In

writing　these　papers　I　have　had　occupation　and　kept　myself　in

relation　with　my　fellow…beings。　　New　sympathies；　new　sources　of

encouragement；　if　not　of　inspiration；　have　opened　themselves　before

me　and　cheated　the　least　promising　season　of　life　of　much　that　seemed

to　render　it　dreary　and　depressing。　　What　particularly　pleased　me　has

been　the　freedom　of　criticisms　which　I　have　seen　from　disadvantageous

comparisons　of　my　later　with　my　earlier　writings。



I　should　like　a　little　rest　from　literary　work　before　the　requiescat

ensures　my　repose　from　earthly　labors；　but　I　will　not　be　rash　enough

to　promise　that　I　will　not　even　once　again　greet　my　old　and　new

readers　if　the　impulse　becomes　irresistible　to　renew　a　companionship

which　has　been　to　me　such　a　source　of　happiness。



BEVERLY　FARM；　Mass。；　August；　1891。



O。　　W。　　H。













OVER　THE　TEACUPS。



I



INTRODUCTION。



This　series　of　papers　was　begun　in　March；　1888。　　A　single　number　was

printed；　when　it　was　interrupted　the　course　of　events；　and　not

resumed　until　nearly　years　later；　in　January；　1890。　　The　plan　of　the

series　was　not　formed　in　my　mind　when　I　wrote　the　number。　　In

returning　to　my　task　I　found　that　my　original　plan　had　shaped　itself

in　the　underground　laboratory　of　my　thought　so　that　some　changes　had

to　be　made　in　what　I　had　written。　　As　I　proceeded；　the　slight　story

which　formed　a　part　of　my　programme　eloped　itself　without　any　need　of

much　contrivance　on　my；　part。　　Given　certain　characters　in　a　writer's

conception；　if　they　are　real　to　him；　as　they　ought　to　be　they　will

act　in　such　or　such　a　way；　according　to　the　law　of　their　nature。　　It

was　pretty　safe　to　assume　that　intimate　relations　would　spring　up

between　some　members　of　our　mixed　company；　and　it　was　not　rash

conjecture　that　some　of　these　intimacies　might　end　in　such　attachment

as　would　furnish　us　hints；　at　least；　of　a　love…story。



As　to　the　course　of　the　conversations　which　would　take　place；　very

little　could　be　guessed　beforehand。　　Various　subjects　of　interest

would　be　likely　to　present　themselves；　without　definite　order；

oftentimes　abruptly　and；　as　it　would　seem；　capriciously。

Conversation　in　such　a　mixed　company　as　that　of　〃The　Teacups〃　is

likely　to　be　suggestive　rather　than　exhaustive。　　Continuous　discourse

is　better　adapted　to　the　lecture…room　than　to　the　tea…table。　　There

is　quite　enough　of　it；　I　fear　too　much；in　these　pages。　　But　the

reader　must　take　the　reports　of　our　talks　as　they　were　jotted　down。

A　patchwork　quilt　is　not　like　a　piece　of　Gobelin　tapestry；　but　it　has

its　place　and　its　use。



Some　will　feel　a　temptation　to　compare　these　conversations　with　those

earlier　ones；　and　remark　unamiably　upon　their　difference。　　This　is

hardly　fair；　and　is　certainly　not　wise。　　They　are　produced　under　very

different　conditions；　and　betray　that　fact　in　every　line。　　It　is

better　to　take　them　by　themselves；　and；　if　my　reader　finds　anything

to　please　or　profit　from；　I　shall　be　contented；　and　he；　I　feel　sure；

will　not　be　ungrateful。





The　readers　who　take　up　this　volume　may　recollect　a　series　of

conversations　held　many　years　ago　over　the　breakfast…table；　and

reported　for　their　more　or　less　profitable　entertainment。　　Those　were

not　very　early　breakfasts　at　which　the　talks　took　place；　but　at　any

rate　the　sun　was　rising；　and　the　guests　had　not　as　yet　tired

themselves　with　the　labors　of　the　day。　　The　morning　cup　of　coffee　has

an　exhilaration　about　it　which　the　cheering　influence　of　the

afternoon　or　evening　cup　of　tea　cannot　be　expected　to　reproduce。　　The

toils　of　the　forenoon；　the　heats　of　midday；　in　the　warm　season；　the

slanting　light　of　the　descending　sun；　or　the　sobered　translucency　of

twilight　have　subdued　the　vivacity　of　the　early　day。　　Yet　under　the

influence　of　the　benign　stimulant　many　trains　of　thought　which　will

bear　recalling；　may　suggest　themselves　to　some　of　our　quiet　circle

and　prove　not　uninteresting　to　a　certain　number　of　readers。



How　early　many　of　my　old　breakfast　companions　went　off　to　bed！　　I　am

thinking　not　merely　of　those　who　sat　round　our　table；　but　of　that

larger　company　of　friends　who　listened　to　our　conversations　as

reported。　　Dear　girl　with　the　silken　ringlets；　dear　boy　with　the

down…shadowed　cheek；　your　grandfather；　your　grandmother；　turned　over

the　freshly　printed　leaves　that　told　the　story　of　those　earlier

meetings　around　the　plain　board　where　so　many　things　were　said　and

sung；　not　all　of　which　have　quite　faded　from　memory　of　this

overburdened　and　forgetful　time。　　Your　father；　your　mother；　found　the

scattered　leaves　gathered　in　a　volume；　and　smiled　upon　them　as　not

uncompanionable　acquaintances。　　My　tea…table　makes　no　promises。

There　is　no　programme　of　exercises　to　studied　beforehand。　　What　if　I

should　content　myself　with　a　single　report　of　what　was　said　and　done

over　our　teacups？　　Perhaps　my　young　reader　would　be　glad　to　let　me

off；　for　there　are　talkers　enough　who　have　not　yet　left　their

breakfast…tables；　and　nobody　can　blame　the　young　people　for

preferring　the　thoughts　and　the　language　of　their　own　generation；

with　all　its　future　before　it；　to　those　of　their　grandfathers

contemporaries。



My　reader；　young　or　old；　will　please　to　observe　that　I　have　left

myself　entire　freedom　as　to　the　sources　of　what　may　be　said　over　the

teacups。　　I　have　not　told　how　many　cups　are　commonly　on　the　board；

but　by　using　the　plural　I　have　implied　that　there　is　at　least　one

other　talker　or　listener　beside　myself；　and　for　all　that　appears

there　may　be　a　dozen。　　There　will　be　no　regulation　length　to　my

reports；　…　no　attempt　to　make　out　a　certain　number　of　pages。　　I　have

no　contract　to　fill　so　many　columns；　no　pledge　to　contribute　so　many

numbers。　　I　can　stop　on　this　first　page　if　I　do　not　care　to　say

anything　more；　and　let　this　article　stand　by　itself　if　so　minded。

What　a　sense　of　freedom　it　gives　not　to　write　by　the　yard　or　the

column！



When　one　writes　for　an　English　review　or　magazine　at　so　many　guineas

a　sheet；　the　temptation　is　very　great　to　make　one's　contribution

cover　as　many　sheets　as　possible。　　We　all　know　the　metallic　taste　of

articles　written　under　this　powerful　stimulus。　　If　Bacon's　Essays　had

been　furnished　by　a　modern　hand　to　the　〃Quarterly　Review〃　at　fifty

guineas　a　sheet；　what　a　great　book　it　would　have　taken　to　hold　them！



The　first　thing　which　suggests　itself　to　me；　as　I　contemplate　my

slight　project；　is　the　liability　of　repeating　in　the　evening　what　I

may　have　said　in　the　morning　in　one　form　or　another；　and　printed　in

these　or　other　pages。　　When　it　suddenly　flashes　into　the

consciousness　of　a　writer　who　had　been　long　before　the　public；　〃Why；

I　have　said　all　that　once　or　oftener　in　my　books　or　essays；　and　here

it　is　again；　the　same　old　thought；　the　same　old　image；　the　same　old

story！〃　it　irritates　him；　and　is　likely　to　stir　up　the　monosyllables

of　his　unsanctified　vocabulary。　　He　sees　in　imagination　a　thousand

readers；　smiling　or　yawning　as　they　say　to　themselves；　〃We　have　had

all　that　before；〃　and　turn　to　another　writer's　performance　for

something　not　quite　so　stale　and　superfluous。　　This　is　what　the

writer　says　to　himself　about　the　reader。



The　idiot！　　Does　the　simpleton　really　think　that　everybody　has　read

all　he　has　written？　　Does　he　really　believe　that　everybody　remembers

all　of　his；　writer's；　words　he　may　happen　to　have　read？　　At　one　of

those　famous　dinners　of　the　Phi　Beta　Kappa　Society；　where　no　reporter

was　ever　admitted；　and　which　nothing　ever　leaks　out　about　what　is

said　and　done；　Mr。　Edward　Everett；　in　his　after…dinner　speech；　quoted

these　lines　from　the　AEneid；　giving　a　liberal　English　version　of

them；　which　he　applied　to　the　Oration　just　delivered　by　Mr。　　Emerson：



　　　　　Tres　imbris　torti　radios；　tres　nubis　aquosae

　　　　　Addiderant；　rutili　tres　ignis；　et　alitis　Austri。



His　nephew；　the　ingenious；　inventive；　and　inexhaustible。　　Edward

Everett　Hale；　tells　the　story　of　this　quotation；　and　of　the　various

uses　to　which　it　might　plied　in　after…dinner　speeches。　　How　often　he

ventured　to　repeat　it　at　the　Phi　Beta　Kappa　dinners　I　am　not　sure；

but　as　he　reproduced　it　with　his　lively　embellishments　and　fresh

versions　and　artful　circumlocutions；　not　one　person　in　ten　remembered

that　he　had　listened　to　those　same　words　in　those　same　accents　only　a

twelvemonth　ago。　　The　poor　deluded　creatures　who　take　it　for　granted

that　all　the　world　remembers　what　they　have　said；　and　laugh　at　them

when　they　say　it　over　again；　may　profit　by　this　recollection。　　But

what　if　one　does　say　the　same　things；of　course　in　a　little

different　form　each　time；over　her？　　If　he　has　anything　to　say　worth

saying；　that　is　just　what　be　ought　to　do。　　Whether　he　ought　to　or

not；　it　is　very　certain　that　this　is　what　all　who　write　much　or　speak

much　necessarily　must　and　will　do。　　Think　of　the　clergyman　who

preaches　fifty　or　a　hundred　or　more　sermons　every　year　for　fifty

years！　　Think　of　the　stump　speaker　who　shouts　before　a　hundred

audiences　during　the　same　political　campaign；　always　using　the　same

arguments；　illustrations；　and　catchwords！　　Think　of　the　editor；　as

Carlyle　has　pictured　him；　threshing　the　same　straw　every　morning；

until　we　know　what　is　coming　when　we　see　the　first　line；　as　we　do

when　we　read　the　large　capitals　at　the　head　of　a　thrilling　story；

which　ends　in　an　advertisement　of　an　all…cleansing　soap　or　an　all…

curing　remedy！



The　latch…key　which　opens　into　the　inner　chambers　of　my　consciousness

fits；　as　I　have　sufficient　reason　to　believe；　the　private　apartments

of　a　good　many　other　people's　thoughts。　　The　longer　we　live；　the　more

we　find　we　are　like　other　persons。　　When　I　meet　with　any　facts　in　my

own　mental　experience；　I　feel　almost　sure　that　I　shall　find　them

repeated　or　anticipated　in　the　writings　or　the　conversation　of

others。　　This　feeling　gives　one　a　freedom　in　telling　his　own　personal

history　he　could　not　have　enjoyed　without　it。　　My　story　belongs　to

you　as　much　as　to　me。　　De　te　fabula　narratur。　　Change　the　personal

pronoun；that　is　all。　　It　gives　many　readers　a　singular　pleasure　to

find　a　writer　telling　them　something　the