the professor at the breakfast table-第56节

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when　he　thinks　very　often　of　the　given　young　lady；　and　names　her

very　seldom；



What　do　you　say　about　it；　my　charming　young　expert　in　that　sweet

science　in　which；　perhaps；　a　long　experience　is　not　the　first　of

qualifications？



But　we　don't　know　anything　about　this　young　man；　except　that　he　is

good…looking；　and　somewhat　high…spirited；　and　strong…limbed；　and　has

a　generous　style　of　nature；all　very　promising；　but　by　no　means

proving　that　he　is　a　proper　lover　for　Iris；　whose　heart　we　turned

inside　out　when　we　opened　that　sealed　book　of　hers。



Ah；　my　dear　young　friend！　　When　your　mamma　then；　if　you　will　believe

it；　a　very　slight　young　lady；　with　very　pretty　hair　and　figurecame

and　told　her　mamma　that　your　papa　hadhadasked　No；　no；　no！　she

could　n't　say　it；　but　her　motheroh　the　depth　of　maternal　sagacity！

guessed　it　all　without　another　word！　When　your　mother；　I　say；

came　and　told　her　mother　she　was　engaged；　and　your　grandmother　told

your　grandfather；　how　much　did　they　know　of　the　intimate　nature　of

the　young　gentleman　to　whom　she　had　pledged　her　existence？　　I　will

not　be　so　hard　as　to　ask　how　much　your　respected　mamma　knew　at　that

time　of　the　intimate　nature　of　your　respected　papa；　though；　if　we

should　compare　a　young　girl's　man…as…she…thinks…him　with　a　forty…

summered　matron's　man…as…she…finds…him；　I　have　my　doubts　as　to

whether　the　second　would　be　a　facsimile　of　the　first　in　most　cases。



The　idea　that　in　this　world　each　young　person　is　to　wait　until　he　or

she　finds　that　precise　counterpart　who　alone　of　all　creation　was

meant　for　him　or　her；　and　then　fall　instantly　in　love　with　it；　is

pretty　enough；　only　it　is　not　Nature's　way。　　It　is　not　at　all

essential　that　all　pairs　of　human　beings　should　be；　as　we　sometimes

say　of　particular　couples；　〃born　for　each　other。〃　　Sometimes　a　man

or　a　woman　is　made　a　great　deal　better　and　happier　in　the　end　for

having　had　to　conquer　the　faults　of　the　one　beloved；　and　make　the

fitness　not　found　at　first；　by　gradual　assimilation。　　There　is　a

class　of　good　women　who　have　no　right　to　marry　perfectly　good　men；

because　they　have　the　power　of　saving　those　who　would　go　to　ruin　but

for　the　guiding　providence　of　a　good　wife。　　I　have　known　many　such

cases。　　It　is　the　most　momentous　question　a　woman　is　ever　called

upon　to　decide；　whether　the　faults　of　the　man　she　loves　are　beyond

remedy　and　will　drag　her　down；　or　whether　she　is　competent　to　be　his

earthly　redeemer　and　lift　him　to　her　own　level。



A　person　of　genius　should　marry　a　person　of　character。　　Genius　does

not　herd　with　genius。　　The　musk…deer　and　the　civet…cat　are　never

found　in　company。　　They　don't　care　for　strange　scents；they　like

plain　animals　better　than　perfumed　ones。　　Nay；　if　you　will　have　the

kindness　to　notice；　Nature　has　not　gifted　my　lady　musk…deer　with　the

personal　peculiarity　by　which　her　lord　is　so　widely　known。



Now　when　genius　allies　itself　with　character；　the　world　is　very　apt

to　think　character　has　the　best　of　the　bargain。　　A　brilliant　woman

marries　a　plain；　manly　fellow；　with　a　simple　intellectual

mechanism；we　have　all　seen　such　cases。　　The　world　often　stares　a

good　deal　and　wonders。　　She　should　have　taken　that　other；　with　a　far

more　complex　mental　machinery。　　She　might　have　had　a　watch　with　the

philosophical　compensation…balance；　with　the　metaphysical　index

which　can　split　a　second　into　tenths；　with　the　musical　chime　which

can　turn　every　quarter　of　an　hour　into　melody。　　She　has　chosen　a

plain　one；　that　keeps　good　time；　and　that　is　all。



Let　her　alone！　　She　knows　what　she　is　about。　　Genius　has　an

infinitely　deeper　reverence　for　character　than　character　can　have

for　genius。　　To　be　sure；　genius　gets　the　world's　praise；　because　its

work　is　a　tangible　product；　to　be　bought；　or　had　for　nothing。　　It

bribes　the　common　voice　to　praise　it　by　presents　of　speeches；　poems；

statues；　pictures；　or　whatever　it　can　please　with。　　Character

evolves　its　best　products　for　home　consumption；　but；　mind　you；　it

takes　a　deal　more　to　feed　a　family　for　thirty　years　than　to　make　a

holiday　feast　for　our　neighbors　once　or　twice　in　our　lives。　　You

talk　of　the　fire　of　genius。　　Many　a　blessed　woman；　who　dies　unsung

and　unremembered；　has　given　out　more　of　the　real　vital　heat　that

keeps　the　life　in　human　souls；　without　a　spark　flitting　through　her

humble　chimney　to　tell　the　world　about　it；　than　would　set　a　dozen

theories　smoking；　or　a　hundred　odes　simmering；　in　the　brains　of　so

many　men　of　genius。　　It　is　in　latent　caloric；　if　I　may　borrow　a

philosophical　expression；　that　many　of　the　noblest　hearts　give　out

the　life　that　warms　them。　　Cornelia's　lips　grow　white；　and　her　pulse

hardly　warms　her　thin　fingers；but　she　has　melted　all　the　ice　out

of　the　hearts　of　those　young　Gracchi；　and　her　lost　heat　is　in　the

blood　of　her　youthful　heroes。　　We　are　always　valuing　the　soul's

temperature　by　the　thermometer　of　public　deed　or　word。　　Yet　the

great　sun　himself；　when　he　pours　his　noonday　beams　upon　some　vast

hyaline　boulder；　rent　from　the　eternal　ice…quarries；　and　floating

toward　the　tropics；　never　warms　it　a　fraction　above　the　thirty…two

degrees　of　Fahrenheit　that　marked　the　moment　when　the　first　drop

trickled　down　its　side。



How　we　all　like　the　spirting　up　of　a　fountain；　seemingly　against　the

law　that　makes　water　everywhere　slide；　roll；　leap；　tumble　headlong；

to　get　as　low　as　the　earth　will　let　it！　　That　is　genius。　　But　what

is　this　transient　upward　movement；　which　gives　us　the　glitter　and

the　rainbow；　to　that　unsleeping；　all…present　force　of　gravity；　the

same　yesterday；　to…day；　and　forever；　（if　the　universe　be　eternal；）

the　great　outspread　hand　of　God　himself；　forcing　all　things　down

into　their　places；　and　keeping　them　there？　　Such；　in　smaller

proportion；　is　the　force　of　character　to　the　fitful　movements　of

genius；　as　they　are　or　have　been　linked　to　each　other　in　many　a

household；　where　one　name　was　historic；　and　the　other；　let　me　say

the　nobler；　unknown；　save　by　some　faint　reflected　ray；　borrowed　from

its　lustrous　companion。



Oftentimes；　as　I　have　lain　swinging　on　the　water；　in　the　swell　of

the　Chelsea　ferry…boats；　in　that　long；　sharp…pointed；　black　cradle

in　which　I　love　to　let　the　great　mother　rock　me；　I　have　seen　a　tall

ship　glide　by　against　the　tide；　as　if　drawn　by　some　invisible

towline；　with　a　hundred　strong　arms　pulling　it。　　Her　sails　hung

unfilled；　her　streamers　were　drooping；　she　had　neither　side…wheel

nor　stern…wheel；　still　she　moved　on；　stately；　in　serene　triumph；　as

if　with　her　own　life。　　But　I　knew　that　on　the　other　side　of　the

ship；　hidden　beneath　the　great　hulk　that　swam　so　majestically；　there

was　a　little　toiling　steam…tug；　with　heart　of　fire　and　arms　of　iron；

that　was　hugging　it　close　and　dragging　it　bravely　on；　and　I　knew；

that；　if　the　little　steam…tug　untwined　her　arms　and　left　the　tall

ship；　it　would　wallow　and　roll　about；　and　drift　hither　and　thither；

and　go　off　with　the　refluent　tide；　no　man　knows　whither。　　And　so　I

have　known　more　than　one　genius；　high…decked；　full…freighted；　wide…

sailed；　gay…pennoned；　that；　but　for　the　bare　toiling　arms；　and

brave；　warm；　beating　heart　of　the　faithful　little　wife；　that　nestled

close　in　his　shadow；　and　clung　to　him；　so　that　no　wind　or　wave　could

part　them；　and　dragged　him　on　against　all　the　tide　of　circumstance；

would　soon　have　gone　down　the　stream　and　been　heard　of　no　more。

No；　I　am　too　much　a　lover　of　genius；　I　sometimes　think；　and　too

often　get　impatient　with　dull　people；　so　that；　in　their　weak　talk；

where　nothing　is　taken　for　granted；　I　look　forward　to　some　future

possible　state　of　development；　when　a　gesture　passing　between　a

beatified　human　soul　and　an　archangel　shall　signify　as　much　as　the

complete　history　of　a　planet；　from　the　time　when　it　curdled　to　the

time　when　its　sun　was　burned　out。　　And　yet；　when　a　strong　brain　is

weighed　with　a　true　heart；　it　seems　to　me　like　balancing　a　bubble

against　a　wedge　of　gold。



It　takes　a　very　true　man　to　be　a　fitting　companion　for　a　woman　of

genius；　but　not　a　very　great　one。　　I　am　not　sure　that　she　will　not

embroider　her　ideal　better　on　a　plain　ground　than　on　one　with　a

brilliant　pattern　already　worked　in　its　texture。　　But　as　the　very

essence　of　genius　is　truthfulness；　contact　with　realities；　（which

are　always　ideas　behind　shows　of　form　or　language；）　nothing　is　so

contemptible　as　falsehood　and　pretence　in　its　eyes。　　Now　it　is　not

easy　to　find　a　perfectly　true　woman；　and　it　is　very　hard　to　find　a

perfectly　true　man。　　And　a　woman　of　genius；　who　has　the　sagacity　to

choose　such　a　one　as　her　companion；　shows　more　of　the　divine　gift　in

so　doing　than　in　her　finest　talk　or　her　most　brilliant　work　of

letters　or　of　art。



I　have　been　a　good　while　coming　at　a　secret；　for　which　I　wished　to

prepare　you　before　telling　it。　　I　think　there　is　a　kindly　feeling

growing　up　between　Iris　and　our　young　Marylander。　　Not　that　I

suppose　there　is　any　distinct　understanding　between　them；　bu