over the teacups-第14节

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brave。　　I　won't　quote　Horace's　line　which　characterizes　him　so

admirably；　for　I　will　take　it　for　granted　that　you　all　know　it。　　He

was　a　gentleman；so　is　a　first…class　Indian；a　very　noble　gentleman

in　point　of　courage；　lofty　bearing；　courtesy；　but　an　unsoaped；　ill…

clad；　turbulent；　high…tempered　young　fellow；　looked　up　to　by　his

crowd　very　much　as　the　champion　of　the　heavy　weights　is　looked　up　to

by　his　gang　of　blackguards。　　Alexander　himself　was　not　much　better；

a　foolish；　fiery　young　madcap。　　How　often　is　he　mentioned　except　as　a

warning？　　His　best　record　is　that　he　served　to　point　a　moral　as

'Macedonian's　madman。'　　He　made　a　figure；　it　is　true；　in　Dryden's

great　Ode；　but　what　kind　of　a　figure？　　He　got　drunk；in　very　bad

company；　too；and　then　turned　fire…bug。　　He　had　one　redeeming

point；he　did　value　his　Homer；　and　slept　with　the　Iliad　under　his

pillow。　　A　poet　like　Homer　seems　to　me　worth　a　dozen　such　fellows　as

Achilles　and　Alexander。〃



〃Homer　is　all　very　well　far　those　that　can　read　him；〃　said　Number

Seven；　〃but　the　fellows　that　tag　verses　together　nowadays　are　mostly

fools。　　That's　my　opinion。　　I　wrote　some　verses　once　myself；　but　I

had　been　sick　and　was　very　weak；　hadn't　strength　enough　to　write　in

prose；　I　suppose。〃



This　aggressive　remark　caused　a　little　stir　at　our　tea…table。　　For

you　must　know；　if　I　have　not　told　you　already；　there　are　suspicions

that　we　have　more　than　one　〃poet〃　at　our　table。　　I　have　already

confessed　that　I　do　myself　indulge　in　verse　now　and　then；　and　have

given　my　readers　a　specimen　of　my　work　in　that　line。　　But　there　is　so

much　difference　of　character　in　the　verses　which　are　produced　at　our

table；　without　any　signature；　that　I　feel　quite　sure　there　are　at

least　two　or　three　other　contributors　besides　myself。　　There　is　a

tall；　old…fashioned　silver　urn；　a　sugar…bowl　of　the　period　of　the

Empire；　in　which　the　poems　sent　to　be　read　are　placed　by　unseen

hands。　　When　the　proper　moment　arrives；　I　lift　the　cover　of　the　urn

and　take　out　any　manuscript　it　may　contain。　　If　conversation　is　going

on　and　the　company　are　in　a　talking　mood；　I　replace　the　manuscript　or

manuscripts；　clap　on　the　cover；　and　wait　until　there　is　a　moment's

quiet　before　taking　it　off　again。　　I　might　guess　the　writers

sometimes　by　the　handwriting；　but　there　is　more　trouble　taken　to

disguise　the　chirography　than　I　choose　to　take　to　identify　it　as　that

of　any　particular　member　of　our　company。



The　turn　the　conversation　took；　especially　the　slashing　onslaught　of

Number　Seven　on　the　writers　of　verse；　set　me　thinking　and　talking

about　the　matter。　　Number　Five　turned　on　the　stream　of　my　discourse

by　a　question。



〃You　receive　a　good　many　volumes　of　verse；　do　you　not？〃　she　said；

with　a　look　which　implied　that　she　knew　I　did。



I　certainly　do；　I　answered。　　My　table　aches　with　them。　　My　shelves

groan　with　them。　　Think　of　what　a　fuss　Pope　made　about　his　trials；

when　he　complained　that



　　　　　　　　　　〃All　Bedlam　or　Parnassus　is　let　out〃！



What　were　the　numbers　of　the



　　　　　　　　　　〃Mob　of　gentlemen　who　wrote　with　ease〃



to　that　great　multitude　of　contributors　to　our　magazines；　and　authors

of　little　volumessometimes；　alas！　big　onesof　verse；　which　pour

out　of　the　press；　not　weekly；　but　daily；　and　at　such　a　rate　of

increase　that　it　seems　as　if　before　long　every　hour　would　bring　a

book；　or　at　least　an　article　which　is　to　grow　into　a　book　by　and　by？



I　thanked　Heaven；　the　other　day；　that　I　was　not　a　critic。　　These

attenuated　volumes　of　poetry　in　fancy　bindings　open　their　covers　at

one　like　so　many　little　unfledged　birds；　and　one　does　so　long　to　drop

a　worm　in；a　worm　in　the　shape　of　a　kind　word　for　the　poor

fledgling！　　But　what　a　desperate　business　it　is　to　deal　with　this

army　of　candidates　for　immortality！　　I　have　often　had　something　to

say　about　them；　and　I　may　be　saying　over　the　same　things；　but　if　I　do

not　remember　what　I　have　said；　it　is　not　very　likely　that　my　reader

will；　if　he　does；　he　will　find；　I　am　very　sure；　that　I　say　it　a

little　differently。



What　astonishes　me　is　that　this　enormous　mass　of　commonplace　verse；

which　burdens　the　postman　who　brings　it；　which　it　is　a　serious　task

only　to　get　out　of　its　wrappers　and　open　in　two　or　three　places；　is

on　the　whole　of　so　good　an　average　quality。　　The　dead　level　of

mediocrity　is　in　these　days　a　table…land；　a　good　deal　above　the　old

sea…level　of　laboring　incapacity。　　Sixty　years　ago　verses　made　a

local　reputation；　which　verses；　if　offered　today　to　any　of　our　first…

class　magazines；　would　go　straight　into　the　waste…basket。　　To　write

〃poetry〃　was　an　art　and　mystery　in　which　only　a　few　noted　men　and　a

woman　or　two　were　experts。



When　〃Potter　the　ventriloquist；〃　the　predecessor　of　the　well…

remembered　Signor　Blitz；　went　round　giving　his　entertainments；　there

was　something　unexplained；　uncanny；　almost　awful；　and　beyond　dispute

marvellous；　in　his　performances。　　Those　watches　that　disappeared　and

came　back　to　their　owners；　those　endless　supplies　of　treasures　from

empty　hats；　and　especially　those　crawling　eggs　that　travelled　all

over　the　magician's　person；　sent　many　a　child　home　thinking　that　Mr。

Potter　must　have　ghostly　assistants；　and　raised　grave　doubts　in　the

minds　of　〃professors；〃　that　is　members　of　the　church；　whether　they

had　not　compromised　their　characters　by　being　seen　at　such　an

unhallowed　exhibition。　　Nowadays；　a　clever　boy　who　has　made　a　study

of　parlor　magic　can　do　many　of　those　tricks　almost　as　well　as　the

great　sorcerer　himself。　　How　simple　it　all　seems　when　we　have　seen

the　mechanism　of　the　deception！



It　is　just　so　with　writing　in　verse。　　It　was　not　understood　that

everybody　can　learn　to　make　poetry；　just　as　they　can　learn　the　more

difficult　tricks　of　juggling。　　M。　Jourdain's　discovery　that　he　had

been　speaking　and　writing　prose　all　his　life　is　nothing　to　that　of

the　man　who　finds　out　in　middle　life；　or　even　later；　that　he　might

have　been　writing　poetry　all　his　days；　if　he　had　only　known　how

perfectly　easy　and　simple　it　is。　　Not　everybody；　it　is　true；　has　a

sufficiently　good　ear；　a　sufficient　knowledge　of　rhymes　and　capacity

for　handling　them；　to　be　what　is　called　a　poet。　　I　doubt　whether　more

than　nine　out　of　ten；　in　the　average；　have　that　combination　of　gifts

required　for　the　writing　of　readable　verse。



This　last　expression　of　opinion　created　a　sensation　among　The

Teacups。　　They　looked　puzzled　for　a　minute。　　One　whispered　to　the

next　Teacup；　〃More　than　nine　out　of　ten！　　I　should　think　that　was　a

pretty　liberal　allowance。〃



Yes；　I　continued；　perhaps　ninety…nine　in　a　hundred　would　come　nearer

to　the　mark。　　I　have　sometimes　thought　I　might　consider　it　worth

while　to　set　up　a　school　for　instruction　in　the　art。　　〃Poetry　taught

in　twelve　lessons。〃　　Congenital　idiocy　is　no　disqualification。

Anybody　can　write　〃poetry。〃　　It　is　a　most　unenviable　distinction　to

leave　published　a　thin　volume　of　verse；　which　nobody　wanted；　nobody

buys；　nobody　reads；　nobody　cares　for　except　the　author；　who　cries

over　its　pathos；　poor　fellow；　and　revels　in　its　beauties；　which　he

has　all　to　himself。　　Come！　who　will　be　my　pupils　in　a　Course；Poetry

taught　in　twelve　lessons？　　That　made　a　laugh；　in　which　most　of　The

Teacups；　myself　included；　joined　heartily。　　Through　it　all　I　heard

the　sweet　tones　of　Number　Five's　caressing　voice；　not　because　it　was

more　penetrating　or　louder　than　the　others；　for　it　was　low　and　soft；

but　it　was　so　different　from　the　others；　there　was　so　much　more

life；the　life　of　sweet　womanhood；dissolved　in　it。



（Of　course　he　will　fall　in　love　with　her。　　〃He？　　Who？〃　　Why；　the

newcomer；　the　Counsellor。　　Did　I　not　see　his　eyes　turn　toward　her　as

the　silvery　notes　rippled　from　her　throat？　　Did　they　not　follow　her

in　her　movements；　as　she　turned　her　tread　this　or　that　way？



What　nonsense　for　me　to　be　arranging　matters　between　two　people

strangers　to　each　other　before　to…day！）



〃A　fellow　writes　in　verse　when　he　has　nothing　to　say；　and　feels　too

dull　and　silly　to　say　it　in　prose；〃　said　Number　Seven。



This　made　us　laugh　again；　good…naturedly。　　I　was　pleased　with　a　kind

of　truth　which　it　seemed　to　me　to　wrap　up　in　its　rather　startling

affirmation。　　I　gave　a　piece　of　advice　the　other　day　which　I　said　I

thought　deserved　a　paragraph　to　itself。　　It　was　from　a　letter　I　wrote

not　long　ago　to　an　unknown　young　correspondent；　who　had　a　longing　for

seeing　himself　in　verse　but　was　not　hopelessly　infatuated　with　the

idea　that　he　was　born　a　〃poet。〃　　〃When　you　write　in　prose；〃　I　said；

〃you　say　what　you　mean。　　When　you　write　in　verse　you　say　what　you

must。〃　　I　was　thinking　more　especially　of　rhymed　verse。　　Rhythm　alone

is　a　tether；　and　not　a　very　long　one。　　But　rhymes　are　iron　fetters；

it　is　dragging　a　chain　and　ball　to　march　under　their　incumbrance；　it

is　a　clog…dance　you　are　figuring　in；　when　you　execute　your　metrical

pas　seul。　　Consider　under　what　a　disadvantage　your　thinking　powers