over the teacups-第55节

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gem　in　an　antique　setting；　the　fashion　of　which　has　long　gone　by；　but

which　leaves　the　jewel　the　color　and　brightness　which　are　its

inalienable　qualities。　　With　old　men　it　is　too　often　different。　　They

do　not　belong　so　much　indoors　as　women　do。　　They　have　no　pretty

little　manual　occupations。　　The　old　lady　knits　or　stitches　so　long　as

her　eyes　and　fingers　will　let　her。　　The　old　man　smokes　his　pipe；　but

does　not　know　what　to　do　with　his　fingers；　unless　he　plays　upon　some

instrument；　or　has　a　mechanical　turn　which　finds　business　for　them。



But　the　old　writer；　I　said　to　The　Teacups；　as　I　say　to　you；　my

readers；　labors　under　one　special　difficulty；　which　I　am　thinking　of

and　exemplifying　at　this　moment。　　He　is　constantly　tending　to　reflect

upon　and　discourse　about　his　own　particular　stage　of　life。　　He　feels

that　he　must　apologize　for　his　intrusion　upon　the　time　and　thoughts

of　a　generation　which　he　naturally　supposes　must　be　tired　of　him；　if

they　ever　had　any　considerable　regard　for　him。　　Now；　if　the　world　of

readers　hates　anything　it　sees　in　print；　it　is　apology。　　If　what　one

has　to　say　is　worth　saying；　he　need　not　beg　pardon　fur　saying　it。　　If

it　is　not　worth　saying　I　will　not　finish　the　sentence。　　But　it　is　so

hard　to　resist　the　temptation；　notwithstanding　that　the　terrible　line

beginning　〃Superfluous　lags　the　veteran〃　is　always　repeating　itself

in　his　dull　ear！



What　kind　of　audience　or　reading　parish　is　a　man　who　secured　his

constituency　in　middle　life；　or　before　that　period；　to　expect　when　he

has　reached　the　age　of　threescore　and　twenty？　　His　coevals　have

dropped　away　by　scores　and　tens；　and　he　sees　only　a　few　units

scattered　about　here　and　there；　like　the　few　beads　above　the　water

after　a　ship　has　gone　to　pieces。　　Does　he　write　and　publish　for　those

of　his　own　time　of　life？　　He　need　not　print　a　large　edition。　　Does　he

hope　to　secure　a　hearing　from　those　who　have　come　into　the　reading

world　since　his　coevals？　　They　have　found　fresher　fields　and　greener

pastures。　　Their　interests　are　in　the　out…door；　active　world。　　Some

of　them　are　circumnavigating　the　planet　while　he　is　hitching　his

rocking　chair　about　his　hearth…rug。　　Some　are　gazing　upon　the

pyramids　while　he　is　staring　at　his　andirons。　　Some　are　settling　the

tariff　and　fixing　the　laws　of　suffrage　and　taxation　while　he　is

dozing　over　the　weather　bulletin；　and　going　to　sleep　over　the

obituaries　in　his　morning　or　evening　paper。



Nature　is　wiser　than　we　give　her　credit　for　being；　never　wiser　than

in　her　dealings　with　the　old。　　She　has　no　idea　of　mortifying　them　by

sudden　and　wholly　unexpected　failure　of　the　chief　servants　of

consciousness。　　The　sight；　for　instance；　begins　to　lose　something　of

its　perfection　long　before　its　deficiency　calls　the　owner's　special

attention　to　it。　　Very　probably；　the　first　hint　we　have　of　the　change

is　that　a　friend　makes　the　pleasing　remark　that　we　are　〃playing　the

trombone；〃　as　he　calls　it；　that　is；　moving　a　book　we　are　holding

backward　and　forward；　to　get　the　right　focal　distance。　　Or　it　may　be

we　find　fault　with　the　lamp　or　the　gas…burner　for　not　giving　so　much

light　as　it　used　to。　　At　last；　somewhere　between　forty　and　fifty；　we

begin　to　dangle　a　jaunty　pair　of　eye…glasses；　half　plaything　and　half

necessity。　　In　due　time　a　pair　of　sober；　business…like　spectacles

bestrides　the　nose。　　Old　age　leaps　upon　it　as　his　saddle；　and　rides

triumphant；　unchallenged；　until　the　darkness　comes　which　no　glasses

can　penetrate。　　Nature　is　pitiless　in　carrying　out　the　universal

sentence；　but　very　pitiful　in　her　mode　of　dealing　with　the　condemned

on　his　way　to　the　final　scene。　　The　man　who　is　to　be　hanged　always

has　a　good　breakfast　provided　for　him。



Do　not　think　that　the　old　look　upon　themselves　as　the　helpless；

hopeless；　forlorn　creatures　which　they　seem　to　young　people。　　Do

these　young　folks　suppose　that　all　vanity　dies　out　of　the　natures　of

old　men　and　old　women？　　A　dentist　of　olden　time　told　me　that　a　good…

looking　young　man　once　said　to　him；　〃Keep　that　incisor　presentable；

if　you　can；　till　I　am　fifty；　and　then　I　sha'n't　care　how　I　look。〃　　I

venture　to　say　that　that　gentleman　was　as　particular　about　his

personal　appearance　and　as　proud　of　his　good　looks　at　fifty；　and　many

years　after　fifty；　as　he　was　in　the　twenties；　when　he　made　that

speech　to　the　dentist。



My　dear　friends　around　the　teacups；　and　at　that　wider　board　where　I

am　now　entertaining；　or　trying　to　entertain；　my　company；　is　it　not　as

plain　to　you　as　it　is　to　me　that　I　had　better　leave　such　tasks　as

that　which　I　am　just　finishing　to　those　who　live　in　a　more

interesting　period　of　life　than　one　which；　in　the　order　of　nature；　is

next　door　to　decrepitude？　　Ought　I　not　to　regret　having　undertaken　to

report　the　doings　and　sayings　of　the　members　of　the　circle　which　you

have　known　as　The　Teacups？



Dear；　faithful　reader；　whose　patient　eyes　have　followed　my　reports

through　these　long　months；　you　and　I　are　about　parting　company。

Perhaps　you　are　one　of　those　who　have　known　me　under　another　name；　in

those　far…off　days　separated　from　these　by　the　red　sea　of　the　great

national　conflict。　　When　you　first　heard　the　tinkle　of　the　teaspoons；

as　the　table　was　being　made　ready　for　its　guests；　you　trembled　for

me；　in　the　kindness　of　your　hearts。　　I　do　not　wonder　that　you　did；I

trembled　for　myself。　　But　I　remembered　the　story　of　Sir　Cloudesley

Shovel；　who　was　seen　all　of　a　tremor　just　as　he　was　going　into

action。　　〃How　is　this？〃　said　a　brother　officer　to　him。　　〃Surely　you

are　not　afraid？〃　　〃　No；〃　he　answered；　〃but　my　flesh　trembles　at　the

thought　of　the　dangers　into　which　my　intrepid　spirit　will　carry　me。〃

I　knew　the　risk　of　undertaking　to　carry　through　a　series　of　connected

papers。　　And　yet　I　thought　it　was　better　to　run　that　risk；　more

manly；　more　sensible；　than　to　give　way　to　the　fears　which　made　my

flesh　tremble　as　did　Sir　Cloudesley　Shovel's。　　For　myself　the　labor

has　been　a　distraction；　and　one　which　came　at　a　time　when　it　was

needed。　　Sometimes；　as　in　one　of　those　poems　recently　published；the

reader　will　easily　guess　which；the　youthful　spirit　has　come　over　me

with　such　a　rush　that　it　made　me　feel　just　as　I　did　when　I　wrote　the

history　of　the　〃One…hoss　Shay〃　thirty　years　ago。　　To　repeat　one　of　my

comparisons；　it　was　as　if　an　early　fruit　had　ripened　on　a　graft　upon

an　old；　steady…going　tree；　to　the　astonishment　of　all　its　later…

maturing　products。　　I　should　hardly　dare　to　say　so　much　as　this　if　I

had　not　heard　a　similar　opinion　expressed　by　others。



Once　committed　to　my　undertaking；　there　was　no　turning　back。　　It　is

true　that　I　had　said　I　might　stop　at　any　moment；　but　after　one　or　two

numbers　it　seemed　as　if　there　were　an　informal　pledge　to　carry　the

series　on；　as　in　former　cases；　until　I　had　completed　my　dozen

instalments。



Writers　and　speakers　have　their　idiosyncrasies；　their　habits；　their

tricks；　if　you　had　rather　call　them　so；　as　to　their　ways　of　writing

and　speaking。　　There　is　a　very　old　and　familiar　story；　accompanied　by

a　feeble　jest；　which　most　of　my　readers　may　probably　enough　have　met

with　in　Joe　Miller　or　elsewhere。　　It　is　that　of　a　lawyer　who　could

never　make　an　argument　without　having　a　piece　of　thread　to　work　upon

with　his　fingers　while　he　was　pleading。　　Some　one　stole　it　from　him

one　day；　and　he　could　not　get　on　at　all　with　his　speech；he　had　lost

the　thread　of　his　discourse；　as　the　story　had　it。　　Now　this　is　what　I

myself　once　saw。　　It　was　at　a　meeting　where　certain　grave　matters

were　debated　in　an　assembly　of　professional　men。　　A　speaker；　whom　I

never　heard　before　or　since；　got　up　and　made　a　long　and　forcible

argument。　　I　do　not　think　he　was　a　lawyer；　but　he　spoke　as　if　he　had

been　trained　to　talk　to　juries。　　He　held　a　long　string　in　one　hand；

which　he　drew　through　the　other　band　incessantly；　as　he　spoke；　just

as　a　shoe　maker　performs　the　motion　of　waxing　his　thread。　　He

appeared　to　be　dependent　on　this　motion。　　The　physiological

significance　of　the　fact　I　suppose　to　be　that　the　flow　of　what　we

call　the　nervous　current　from　the　thinking　centre　to　the　organs　of

speech　was　rendered　freer　and　easier　by　the　establishment　of　a

simultaneous　collateral　nervous　current　to　the　set　of　muscles

concerned　in　the　action　I　have　described。



I　do　not　use　a　string　to　help　me　write　or　speak；　but　I　must　have　its

equivalent。　　I　must　have　my　paper　and　pen　or　pencil　before　me　to　set

my　thoughts　flowing　in　such　form　that　they　can　be　written

continuously。　　There　have　been　lawyers　who　could　think　out　their

whole　argument　in　connected　order　without　a　single　note。　　There　are

authors；and　I　think　there　are　many；who　can　compose　and　finish　off

a　poem　or　a　story　without　writing　a　word　of　it　until；　when　the　proper

time　comes；　they　copy　what　they　carry　in　their　heads。　　I　have　been

told　that　Sir　Edwin　Arnold　thought　out　his　beautiful　〃Light　of　Asia〃

in　this　way。



I　find　the　great　charm　of　writing　consists　in　its　surpr