the wandering jew, volume 10-第16节

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to　shade　the　grave　with　their　sepulchral　verdure；　extended　from　this　wall
to　a　little　semicircle；　in　front　of　the　apartment　generally　occupied　by
M。　Hardy。　　Two　or　three　mounds　of　earth；　bordered　with　box；　symmetrically
cut；　completed　the　charms　of　this　garden；　which　in　every　respect
resembled　a　cemetery。

It　was　about　two　o'clock　in　the　afternoon。　　Though　the　April　sun　shone
brightly；　its　rays；　intercepted　by　the　high　wall　of　which　we　have　spoken；
could　not　penetrate　into　that　portion　of　the　garden；　obscure；　damp；　and
cold　as　a　cavern；　which　communicated　with　M。　Hardy's　apartment。　　The　room
was　furnished　with　a　perfect　sense　of　the　comfortable。　　A　soft　carpet
covered　the　floor；　thick　curtains　of　dark　green　baize；　the　same　color　as
the　walls；　sheltered　an　excellent　bed；　and　hung　in　folds　about　the　glass…
door；　which　opened　on　the　garden。　　Some　pieces　of　mahogany　furniture；
plain；　but　very　clean　and　bright；　stood　round　the　room。　　Above　the
secretary；　placed　just　in　front　of　the　bed；　was　a　large　ivory　crucifix；
upon　a　black　velvet　ground。　　The　chimney…piece　was　adorned　with　a　clock；
in　an　ebony　case；　with　ivory　ornaments　representing　all　sorts　of　gloomy
emblems；　such　as　hour…glasses；　scythes；　death's…heads；　etc。　　Now　imagine
this　scene　in　twilight；　with　its　solitary　and　mournful　silence；　only
broken　at　the　hour　of　prayer　by　the　lugubrious　sound　of　the　bells　of　the
neighboring　chapel；　and　you　will　recognize　the　infernal　skill；　with　which
these　dangerous　priests　know　how　to　turn　to　account　every　external
object；　when　they　wish　to　influence　the　mind　of　those　they　are　anxious　to
gain　over。

And　this　was　not　all。　　After　appealing　to　the　senses；　it　was　necessary　to
address　themselves　to　the　intellectand　this　was　the　method　adopted　by
the　reverend　fathers。　　A　single　bookbut　onewas　left；　as　if　by　chance；
within　reach。　　This　book　was　Thomas　a　Kempis'　〃Imitation。〃　　But　as　it
might　happen　that　M。　Hardy　would　not　have　the　courage　or　the　desire　to
read　this　book；　thoughts　and　reflections　borrowed　from　its　merciless
pages；　and　written　in　very　large　characters；　were　suspended　in　black
frames　close　to　the　bed；　or　at　other　parts　within　sight；　so　that；
involuntarily；　in　the　sad　leisure　of　his　inactive　dejection；　the
dweller's　eyes　were　almost　necessarily　attracted　by　them。　　To　that　fatal
circle　of　despairing　thoughts　they　confined　the　already　weakened　mind　of
this　unfortunate　man；　so　long　a　prey　to　the　most　acute　sorrow。　　What　he
read　mechanically；　every　instant　of　the　day　and　night；　whenever　the
blessed　sleep　fled　from　his　eyes　inflamed　with　tears；　was　not　enough
merely　to　plunge　the　soul　of　the　victim　into　incurable　despair；　but　also
to　reduce　him　to　the　corpse…like　obedience　required　by　the　Society　of
Jesus。　　In　that　awful　book　may　be　found　a　thousand　terrors　to　operate　on
weak　minds；　a　thousand　slavish　maxims　to　chain　and　degrade　the
pusillanimous　soul。

And　now　imagine　M。　Hardy　carried　wounded　into　this　house；　while　his
heart；　torn　by　bitter　grief　and　the　sense　of　horrible　treachery；　bled
even　faster　than　his　external　injuries。　　Attended　with　the　utmost　care；
and　thanks　to　the　acknowledged　skill　of　Dr。　Baleinier；　M。　Hardy　soon
recovered　from　the　hurts　he　had　received　when　he　threw　himself　into　the
embers　of　his　burning　factory。　　Yet；　in　order　to　favor　the　projects　of
the　reverend　fathers；　a　drug；　harmless　enough　in　its　effects；　but
destined　to　act　for　a　time　upon　the　mind　of　the　patient；　and　often
employed　for　that　purpose　in　similar　important　cases　by　the　pious　doctor；
was　administered　to　Hardy；　and　had　kept　him　pretty　long　in　a　state　of
mental　torpor。　　To　a　soul　agonized　by　cruel　deceptions；　it　appears　an
inestimable　benefit　to　be　plunged　into　that　kind　of　torpor；　which　at
least　prevents　one　from　dwelling　upon　the　past。

Hardy　resigned　himself　entirely　to　this　profound　apathy；　and　at　length
came　to　regard　it　as　the　supreme　good。　　Thus　do　unfortunate　wretches；
tortured　by　cruel　diseases；　accept　with　gratitude　the　opiate　which　kills
them　slowly；　but　which　at　least　deadens　the　sense　of　pain。

In　sketching　the　portrait　of　M。　Hardy；　we　tried　to　give　some　idea　of　the
exquisite　delicacy　of　his　tender　soul；　of　his　painful　susceptibility　with
regard　to　anything　base　or　wicked；　and　of　his　extreme　goodness；
uprightness；　and　generosity。　　We　now　allude　to　these　admirable　qualities；
because　we　must　observe；　that　with　him；　as　with　almost　all　who　possess
them；　they　were　not；　and　could　not　be；　united　with　an　energetic　and
resolute　character。　　Admirably　persevering　in　good　deeds；　the　influence
of　this　excellent　man；　was　insinuating　rather　than　commanding；　it　was　not
by　the　bold　energy　and　somewhat　overbearing　will；　peculiar　to　other　men
of　great　and　noble　heart；　that　Hardy　had　realized　the　prodigy　of　his
Common　Dwelling…house；　it　was　by　affectionate　persuasion；　for　with　him
mildness　took　the　place　of　force。　　At　sight　of　any　baseness　or　injustice；
he　did　not　rouse　himself；　furious　and　threatening；　but　he　suffered
intense　pain。　　He　did　not　boldly　attack　the　criminal；　but　he　turned　away
from　him　in　pity　and　sorrow。　　And　then　his　loving　heart；　so　full　of
feminine　delicacy；　had　an　irresistible　longing　for　the　blessed　contact　of
dear　affections；　they　alone　could　keep　it　alive。　　Even　as　a　poor；　frail
bird　dies　with　the　cold；　when　it　can　no　longer　lie　close　to　its　brethren；
and　receive　and　communicate　the　sweet　warmth　of　the　maternal　nest。　　And
now　this　sensitive　organization；　this　extremely　susceptible　nature；
receives　blow　after　blow　from　sorrows　and　deceptions；　one　of　which　would
suffice　to　shake；　if　it　did　not　conquer；　the　firmest　and　most　resolute
character。　　Hardy's　best　friend　has　infamously　betrayed　him。　　His　adored
mistress　has　abandoned　him。

The　house　which　he　had　founded　for　the　benefit　of　his　workmen；　whom　he
loved　as　brethren；　is　reduced　to　a　heap　of　ashes。　　What　then　happens？
All　the　springs　of　his　soul　are　at　once　broken。　　Too　feeble　to　resist
such　frightful　attacks；　too　fatally　deceived　to　seek　refuge　in　other
affections；　too　much　discouraged　to　think　of　laying　the　first　stone　of
any　new　edificethis　poor　heart；　isolated　from　every　salutary　influence；
finds　oblivion　of　the　world　and　of　itself　in　a　kind　of　gloomy　torpor。
And　if　some　remaining　instincts　of　life　and　affection；　at　long　intervals；
endeavored　to　rouse　themselves　within　him；　and　if；　half…opening　his
mind's　eye；　which　he　had　kept　closed　against　the　present；　the　past；　and
the　future；　Hardy　looks　around　himwhat　does　he　see？　　Only　these
sentences；　so　full　of　terrible　despair：

〃Thou　art　nothing　but　dust　and　ashes。　　Grief　and　tears　art　thy　portion。
Believe　not　in　any　son　of　man。　　There　are　no　such　things　as　friendship　or
ties　of　kindred。　　All　human　affections　are　false。　　Die　in　the　morning；
and　thou　wilt　be　forgotten　before　night。　　Be　humbledespise　thyselfand
let　others　despise　thee。　　Think　not；　reason　not；　live　notbut　commit　thy
fate　to　the　hands　of　a　superior；　who　will　think　and　reason　for　thee。
Weep；　suffer；　think　upon　death。　　Yes；　death！　always　deaththat　should　be
thy　thought　when　thou　thinkestbut　it　is　better　not　to　think　at　all。
Let　a　feeling　of　ceaseless　woe　prepare　thy　way　to　heaven。　　It　is　only　by
sorrow　that　we　are　welcome　to　the　terrible　God　whom　we　adore！〃

Such　were　the　consolations　offered　to　this　unfortunate　man。　　Affrighted；
he　again　closed　his　eyes；　and　fell　back　into　his　lethargy。　　As　for
leaving　this　gloomy　retreat；　he　could　not；　or　rather　he　did　not　desire　to
do　so。　　He　had　lost　the　power　of　will；　and　then；　it　must　be　confessed；　he
had　finished　by　getting　accustomed　to　this　house；　and　liked　it　wellthey
paid　him　such　discreet　attentions；　and　yet　left　him　so　much　alone　with
his　griefthere　reigned　all　around　such　a　death…like　silence；　which
harmonized　closely　with　the　silence　of　his　heart；　and　that　was　now　the
tomb　of　his　last　love；　last　friendship；　last　hope。　　All　energy　was　dead
within　him！　　Then　began　that　slow；　but　inevitable　transformation；　so
judiciously　foreseen　by　Rodin；　who　directed　the　whole　of　this
machination；　even　in　its　smallest　details。　　At　first　alarmed　by　the
dreadful　maxims　which　surrounded　him；　M。　Hardy　had　at　length　accustomed
himself　to　read　them　over　almost　mechanically；　just　as　the　captive；　in
his　mournful　hours　of　leisure；　counts　the　nails　in　the　door　of　his
prison；　or　the　bars　of　the　grated　window。　　This　was　already　a　great　point
gained　by　the　reverend　fathers。

And　soon　his　weakened　mind　was　struck　with　the　apparent　correctness　of
these　false　and　melancholy　aphorisms。

Thus　he　read：　〃Do　not　count　upon　the　affection　of　any　human　creature〃
and　he　had　himself　been　shamefully　betrayed。

〃Man　is　born　to　sorrow　and　despair〃and　he　was　himself　despairing。

〃There　is　no　rest　save　in　the　cessation　of　thought〃and　the　slumber　of
his　mind　had　brought　some　relief　to　his　pain。

Peepholes；　skillfully　concealed　by　the　hangings　and　in　the　wainscoting　of
these　apartments；　enabled　the　reverend　fathers　at　all　times　to　see　and
hear　the　boarders；　and　above　all　to　observe　their　countenance　and　manner；
when　they　believed　themselves　to　be　alone。　　Every　exclamation　of　grief
which　escaped　Hardy　in　his　gloomy　solitude；　was　repeated　to　Father
d'Aig