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四季随笔-the private papers of henry ryecroft(英文版)-第4部分

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vision of splendour and loveliness which tongue has never yet described; set before my gazing。 To think of it is to fear that I ask too much。
VII
〃Homo animal querulum cupide suis incumbens miseriis。〃 I wonder where that es from。 I found it once in Charron; quoted without reference; and it has often been in my mind……a dreary truth; well worded。 At least; it was a truth for me during many a long year。 Life; I fancy; would very often be insupportable; but for the luxury of self…passion; in cases numberless; this it must be that saves from suicide。 For some there is great relief in talking about their miseries; but such gossips lack the profound solace of misery nursed in silent brooding。 Happily; the trick with me has never been retrospective; indeed; it was never; even with regard to instant suffering; a habit so deeply rooted as to bee a mastering vice。 I knew my own weakness when I yielded to it; I despised myself when it brought me fort; I could laugh scornfully; even 〃cupide meis incumbens miseriis。〃 And now; thanks be to the unknown power which rules us; my past has buried its dead。 More than that; I can accept with sober cheerfulness the necessity of all I lived through。 So it was to be; so it was。 For this did Nature shape me; with what purpose; I shall never know; but; in the sequence of things eternal; this was my place。
Could I have achieved so much philosophy if; as I ever feared; the closing years of my life had passed in helpless indigence? Should I not have sunk into lowest depths of querulous self…pity; grovelling there with eyes obstinately averted from the light above?
VIII
The early ing of spring in this happy Devon gladdens my heart。 I think with chill disfort of those parts of England where the primrose shivers beneath a sky of threat rather than of solace。 Honest winter; snow…clad and with the frosted beard; I can wele not uncordially; but that long deferment of the calendar's promise; that weeping gloom of March and April; that bitter blast outraging the honour of May……how often has it robbed me of heart and hope。 Here; scarce have I assured myself that the last leaf has fallen; scarce have I watched the glistening of hoar…frost upon the evergreens; when a breath from the west thrills me with anticipation of bud and bloom。 Even under this grey…billowing sky; which tells that February is still in rule:…
Mild winds shake the elder brake; And the wandering herdsmen know That the whitethorn soon will blow。
I have been thinking of those early years of mine in London; when the seasons passed over me unobserved; when I seldom turned a glance towards the heavens; and felt no hardship in the imprisonment of boundless streets。 It is strange now to remember that for some six or seven years I never looked upon a meadow; never travelled even so far as to the tree…bordered suburbs。 I was battling for dear life; on most days I could not feel certain that in a week's time I should have food and shelter。 It would happen; to be sure; that in hot noons of August my thoughts wandered to the sea; but so impossible was the gratification of such desire that it never greatly troubled me。 At times; indeed; I seem all but to have forgotten that people went away for holiday。 In those poor parts of the town where I dwelt; season made no perceptible difference; there were no luggage… laden cabs to remind me of joyous journeys; the folk about me went daily to their toil as usual; and so did I。 I remember afternoons of languor; when books were a weariness; and no thought could be squeezed out of the drowsy brain; then would I betake myself to one of the parks; and find refreshment without any enjoyable sense of change。 Heavens; how I laboured in those days! And how far I was from thinking of myself as a subject for passion! That came later; when my health had begun to suffer from excess of toil; from bad air; bad food and many miseries; then awoke the maddening desire for countryside and sea…beach……and for other things yet more remote。 But in the years when I toiled hardest and underwent what now appear to me hideous privations; of a truth I could not be said to suffer at all。 I did not suffer; for I had no sense of weakness。 My health was proof against everything; and my energies defied all malice of circumstance。 With however little encouragement; I had infinite hope。 Sound sleep (often in places I now dread to think of) sent me fresh to the battle each morning; my breakfast; sometimes; no more than a slice of bread and a cup of water。 As human happiness goes; I am not sure that I was not then happy。
Most men who go through a hard time in their youth are supported by panionship。 London has no pays latin; but hungry beginners in literature have generally their suitable rades; garreteers in the Tottenham Court Road district; or in unredeemed Chelsea; they make their little vie de Boheme; and are consciously proud of it。 Of my position; the peculiarity was that I never belonged to any cluster; I shrank from casual acquaintance; and; through the grim years; had but one friend with whom I held converse。 It was never my instinct to look for help; to seek favour for advancement; whatever step I gained was gained by my own strength。 Even as I disregarded favour so did I scorn advice; no counsel would I ever take but that of my own brain and heart。 More than once I was driven by necessity to beg from strangers the means of earning bread; and this of all my experiences was the bitterest; yet I think I should have found it worse still to incur a debt to some friend or rade。 The truth is that I have never learnt to regard myself as a 〃member of society。〃 For me; there have always been two entities……myself and the world; and the normal relation between these two has been hostile。 Am I not still a lonely man; as far as ever from forming part of the social order?
This; of which I once was scornfully proud; seems to me now; if not a calamity; something I would not choose if life were to live again。
IX
For more than six years I trod the pavement; never stepping once upon mother earth……for the parks are but pavement disguised with a growth of grass。 Then the worst was over。 Say I the worst? No; no; things far worse were to e; the struggle against starvation has its cheery side when one is young and vigorous。 But at all events I had begun to earn a living; I held assurance of food and clothing for half a year at a time; granted health; I might hope to draw my not insufficient wages for many a twelvemonth。 And they were the wages of work done independently; when and where I would。 I thought with horror of lives spent in an office; with an employer to obey。 The glory of the career of letters was its freedom; its dignity!
The fact of the matter was; of course; that I served; not one master; but a whole crowd of them。 Independence; forsooth! If my writing failed to please editor; publisher; public; where was my daily bread? The greater my success; the more numerous my employers。 I was the slave of a multitude。 By heaven's grace I had succeeded in pleasing (that is to say; in making myself a source of profit to) certain persons who represented this vague throng; for the time; they were gracious to me; but what justified me in the faith that I should hold the ground I had gained? Could the position of any toiling man be more precarious than mine? I tremble now as I think of it; tremble as I should in watching some one who walked carelessly on the edge of an abyss。 I marvel at the recollection that for a good score of years this pen and a scrap of paper clothed and fed me and my household; kept me in physical fort; held at bay all those hostile forces of the world ranged against one who has no resource save in his own right hand。
But I was thinking of the year which saw my first exodus from London。 On an irresistible impulse; I suddenly made up my mind to go into Devon; a part of England I had never seen。 At the end of March I escaped from my grim lodgings; and; before I had time to reflect on the details of my undertaking; I found myself sitting in sunshine at a spot very near to where I now dwell……before me the green valley of the broadening Exe and the pine…clad ridge of Haldon。 That was one of the moments of my life y state of mind was very strange。 T
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