roundabout papers-第18部分

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ame　one？〃

And　the　poor　anxious　wife　is　sitting　up；　and　fondles　the　hand　which　has　been　shaken　by　so　many　illustrious　men！　　The　little　feast　dates　back　only　eighteen　years；　and　yet　somehow　it　seems　as　distant　as　a　dinner　at　Mr。　Thrale's；　or　a　meeting　at　Will's。　Poor　little　gleam　of　sunshine！　very　little　good　cheer　enlivens　that　sad　simple　life。　　We　have　the　triumph　of　the　Magazine：　then　a　new　Magazine　projected　and　produced：　then　illness　and　the　last　scene；　and　the　kind　Peel　by　the　dying　man's　bedside　speaking　noble　words　of　respect　and　sympathy；　and　soothing　the　last　throbs　of　the　tender　honest　heart。　I　like；　I　say；　Hood's　life　even　better　than　his　books；　and　I　wish；　with　all　my　heart；　Monsieur　et　cher　confrere；　the　same　could　be　said　for　both　of　us；　when　the　inkstream　of　our　life　hath　ceased　to　run。　Yes：　if　I　drop　first；　dear　Baggs；　I　trust　you　may　find　reason　to　modify　some　of　the　unfavorable　views　of　my　character；　which　you　are　freely　imparting　to　our　mutual　friends。　　What　ought　to　be　the　literary　man's　point　of　honor　now…a…days？　　Suppose；　friendly　reader；　you　are　one　of　the　craft；　what　legacy　would　you　like　to　leave　to　your　children？　　First　of　all　（and　by　heaven's　gracious　help）　you　would　pray　and　strive　to　give　them　such　an　endowment　of　love；　as　should　last　certainly　for　all　their　lives；　and　perhaps　be　transmitted　to　their　children。　　You　would　（by　the　same　aid　and　blessing）　keep　your　honor　pure；　and　transmit　a　name　unstained　to　those　who　have　a　right　to　bear　it。　　You　would；though　this　faculty　of　giving　is　one　of　the　easiest　of　the　literary　man's　qualitiesyou　would；　out　of　your　earnings；　small　or　great；　be　able　to　help　a　poor　brother　in　need；　to　dress　his　wounds；　and；　if　it　were　but　twopence；　to　give　him　succor。　　Is　the　money　which　the　noble　Macaulay　gave　to　the　poor　lost　to　his　family？　　God　forbid。　　To　the　loving　hearts　of　his　kindred　is　it　not　rather　the　most　precious　part　of　their　inheritance？　　It　was　invested　in　love　and　righteous　doing；　and　it　bears　interest　in　heaven。　　You　will；　if　letters　be　your　vocation；　find　saving　harder　than　giving　and　spending。　　To　save　be　your　endeavor；　too；　against　the　night's　coming　when　no　man　may　work；　when　the　arm　is　weary　with　the　long　day's　labor；　when　the　brain　perhaps　grows　dark；　when　the　old；　who　can　labor　no　more；　want　warmth　and　rest；　and　the　young　ones　call　for　supper。

I　copied　the　little　galley…slave　who　is　made　to　figure　in　the　initial　letter　of　this　paper；　from　a　quaint　old　silver　spoon　which　we　purchased　in　a　curiosity…shop　at　the　Hague。*　　It　is　one　of　the　gift　spoons　so　common　in　Holland；　and　which　have　multiplied　so　astonishingly　of　late　years　at　our　dealers'　in　old　silverware。　Along　the　stem　of　the　spoon　are　written　the　words：　〃Anno　1609；　Bin　ick　aldus　ghekledt　gheghaen〃〃In　the　year　1609　I　went　thus　clad。〃　The　good　Dutchman　was　released　from　his　Algerine　captivity　（I　imagine　his　figure　looks　like　that　of　a　slave　amongst　the　Moors）；　and　in　his　thank…offering　to　some　godchild　at　home；　he　thus　piously　records　his　escape。

*　This　refers　to　an　illustrated　edition　of　the　work。

Was　not　poor　Cervantes　also　a　captive　amongst　the　Moors？　　Did　not　Fielding；　and　Goldsmith；　and　Smollett；　too；　die　at　the　chain　as　well　as　poor　Hood？　　Think　of　Fielding　going　on　board　his　wretched　ship　in　the　Thames；　with　scarce　a　hand　to　bid　him　farewell；　of　brave　Tobias　Smollett；　and　his　life；　how　hard；　and　how　poorly　rewarded；　of　Goldsmith；　and　the　physician　whispering；　〃Have　you　something　on　your　mind？〃　and　the　wild　dying　eyes　answering；　〃Yes。〃　　Notice　how　Boswell　speaks　of　Goldsmith；　and　the　splendid　contempt　with　which　he　regards　him。　　Read　Hawkins　on　Fielding；　and　the　scorn　with　which　Dandy　Walpole　and　Bishop　Hurd　speak　of　him。　　Galley…slaves　doomed　to　tug　the　oar　and　wear　the　chain；　whilst　my　lords　and　dandies　take　their　pleasure；　and　hear　fine　music　and　disport　with　fine　ladies　in　the　cabin！　But　stay。　　Was　there　any　cause　for　this　scorn？　　Had　some　of　these　great　men　weaknesses　which　gave　inferiors　advantage　over　them？　　Men　of　letters　cannot　lay　their　hands　on　their　hearts；　and　say；　〃No；　the　fault　was　fortune's；　and　the　indifferent　world's；　not　Goldsmith's　nor　Fielding's。〃　　There　was　no　reason　why　Oliver　should　always　be　thriftless；　why　Fielding　and　Steele　should　sponge　upon　their　friends；　why　Sterne　should　make　love　to　his　neighbors'　wives。　Swift；　for　a　long　time；　was　as　poor　as　any　wag　that　ever　laughed：　but　he　owed　no　penny　to　his　neighbors：　Addison；　when　he　wore　his　most　threadbare　coat；　could　hold　his　head　up；　and　maintain　his　dignity：　and；　I　dare　vouch；　neither　of　those　gentlemen；　when　they　were　ever　so　poor；　asked　any　man　alive　to　pity　their　condition；　and　have　a　regard　to　the　weaknesses　incidental　to　the　literary　profession。　　Galley…slave；　forsooth！　　If　you　are　sent　to　prison　for　some　error　for　which　the　law　awards　that　sort　of　laborious　seclusion；　so　much　the　more　shame　for　you。　　If　you　are　chained　to　the　oar　a　prisoner　of　war；　like　Cervantes；　you　have　the　pain；　but　not　the　shame；　and　the　friendly　compassion　of　mankind　to　reward　you。　Galley…slaves；　indeed！　　What　man　has　not　his　oar　to　pull？　　There　is　that　wonderful　old　stroke…oar　in　the　Queen's　galley。　　How　many　years　has　he　pulled？　　Day　and　night；　in　rough　water　or　smooth；　with　what　invincible　vigor　and　surprising　gayety　he　plies　his　arms。　　There　is　in　the　same　Galere　Capitaine；　that　well…known；　trim　figure；　the　bow…　oar；　how　he　tugs；　and　with　what　a　will！　　How　both　of　them　have　been　abused　in　their　time！　　Take　the　Lawyer's　galley；　and　that　dauntless　octogenarian　in　command；　when　has　HE　ever　complained　or　repined　about　his　slavery？　　There　is　the　Priest's　galleyblack　and　lawn　sailsdo　any　mariners　out　of　Thames　work　harder？　　When　lawyer；　and　statesman；　and　divine；　and　writer　are　snug　in　bed；　there　is　a　ring　at　the　poor　Doctor's　bell。　　Forth　he　must　go；　in　rheumatism　or　snow；　a　galley…slave　bearing　his　galley…pots　to　quench　the　flames　of　fever；　to　succor　mothers　and　young　children　in　their　hour　of　peril；　and；　as　gently　and　soothingly　as　may　be；　to　carry　the　hopeless　patient　over　to　the　silent　shore。　　And　have　we　not　just　read　of　the　actions　of　the　Queen's　galleys　and　their　brave　crews　in　the　Chinese　waters？　　Men　not　more　worthy　of　human　renown　and　honor　to…day　in　their　victory；　than　last　year　in　their　glorious　hour　of　disaster。　So　with　stout　hearts　may　we　ply　the　oar；　messmates　all；　till　the　voyage　is　over；　and　the　Harbor　of　Rest　is　found。

ROUND　ABOUT　THE　CHRISTMAS　TREE。

The　kindly　Christmas　tree；　from　which　I　trust　every　gentle　reader　has　pulled　a　bonbon　or　two；　is　yet　all　aflame　whilst　I　am　writing；　and　sparkles　with　the　sweet　fruits　of　its　season。　　You　young　ladies；　may　you　have　plucked　pretty　giftlings　from　it；　and　out　of　the　cracker　sugarplum　which　you　have　split　with　the　captain　or　the　sweet　young　curate　may　you　have　read　one　of　those　delicious　conundrums　which　the　confectioners　introduce　into　the　sweetmeats；　and　which　apply　to　the　cunning　passion　of　love。　　Those　riddles　are　to　be　read　at　YOUR　age；　when　I　dare　say　they　are　amusing。　　As　for　Dolly；　Merry；　and　Bell；　who　are　standing　at　the　tree；　they　don't　care　about　the　love…riddle　part；　but　understand　the　sweet…almond　portion　very　well。　They　are　four；　five；　six　years　old。　　Patience；　little　people！　　A　dozen　merry　Christmases　more；　and　you　will　be　reading　those　wonderful　love…conundrums；　too。　　As　for　us　elderly　folks；　we　watch　the　babies　at　their　sport；　and　the　young　people　pulling　at　the　branches：　and　instead　of　finding　bonbons　or　sweeties　in　the　packets　which　WE　pluck　off　the　boughs；　we　find　enclosed　Mr。　Carnifex's　review　of　the　quarter's　meat；　Mr。　Sartor's　compliments；　and　little　statement　for　self　and　the　young　gentlemen；　and　Madame　de　Sainte…　Crinoline's　respects　to　the　young　ladies；　who　encloses　her　account；　and　will　send　on　Saturday；　please；　or　we　stretch　our　hand　out　to　the　educational　branch　of　the　Christmas　tree；　and　there　find　a　lively　and　amusing　article　from　the　Rev。　Henry　Holyshade；　containing　our　dear　Tommy's　exceedingly　moderate　account　for　the　last　term's　school　expenses。　The　tree　yet　sparkles；　I　say。　　I　am　writing　on　the　day　before　Twelfth　Day；　if　you　must　know；　but　already　ever　so　many　of　the　fruits　have　been　pulled；　and　the　Christmas　lights　have　gone　out。　Bobby　Miseltow；　who　has　been　staying　with　us　for　a　week　（and　who　has　been　sleeping　mysteriously　in　the　bathroom）；　comes　to　say　he　is　going　away　to　spend　the　rest　of　the　holidays　with　his　grandmother　and　I　brush　away　the　manly　tear　of　regret　as　I　part　with　the　dear　child。　　〃Well；　Bob；　good…by；　since　you　WILL　go。　　Compliments　to　grandmamma。　　Thank　her　for　the　turkey。　　Here's〃　　（A　slight　pecuniary　transaction　takes　place　at　this　juncture；　and　Bob　nods　and　winks；　and　puts　his　hand　in　his　waistcoat　pocket。）。　　〃You　have　had　a　pleasant　week？〃　BOB。〃Haven't　I！〃　　（And　exit；　anxious　to　know　the　amount　of　the　coin　which　has　just　changed　hands。）　He　is　gone；　and　as　the　dear　boy　vanishes　through　the　door　（behind　which　I　see　him　perfectly）；　I　too　cast　up　a　little　account　of　our　past　Christmas　week。　　When　Bob's　holidays　are　over；　and　the　printer　has　sent　me　back　this　manuscript；　I　know　Christmas　will　be　an　old　story。　　All　the　fruit　will　be　off　the　Christmas　tree　then；　the　crackers　will　have　cracked　off；　the　almonds　will　have　been　crunched；　and　the　sweet…bitter　riddles　will　have　been　read；　the　lights　will　have　perished　off　the　dark　green　boughs；　the　toys　growing　on　them　will　have　been　distributed；　fought　for；　cherished；　neglected；　broken。　　Ferdinand　and　Fidelia　will　each　keep　out　of　it　（be　still；　my　gushing　heart！）　the　remembrance　of　a　riddle　read　together；　of　a　double…almond　munched　together；　and　the　moiety　of　an　exploded　cracker。　。　。　。　　The　maids；　I　say；　will　have　taken　down　all　that　holly　stuff　and　nonsense　about　the　clocks；　lamps；　and　looking…　glasses；　the　dear　boys　will　be　back　at　school；　fondly　thinking　of　the　pantomime…fairies　whom　they　have　seen；　whose　gaudy　gossamer　wings　are　battered　by　this　time；　and　whose　pink　cotton　（or　silk　is　it？）　lower　extremities　are　all　dingy　and　dusty。　　Yet　but　a　few　days；　Bob；　and　flakes　of　paint　will　have　cracked　off　the　fairy　flower…　bowers；　and　the　revolving　temples　of　adamantine　lustre　will　be　as　shabby　as　the　city　of　Pekin。　　When　you　read　this；　will　Clown　still　be　going　on　lolling　his　tongue　ou