the idle thoughts of an idle fellow[1].(一个浪子的随想)-第3章
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colder。 Edwin sees with bitterness that Angelina no longer runs to the gate
to meet him； all smiles and blushes； and when he has a cough now she
doesn't begin to cry and； putting her arms round his neck； say that she
cannot live without him。 The most she will probably do is to suggest a
lozenge； and even that in a tone implying that it is the noise more than
anything else she is anxious to get rid of。
Poor little Angelina； too； sheds silent tears； for Edwin has given up
carrying her old handkerchief in the inside pocket of his waistcoat。
Both are astonished at the falling off in the other one； but neither sees
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THE IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW。
their own change。 If they did they would not suffer as they do。 They would
look for the cause in the right quarterin the littleness of poor human
naturejoin hands over their common failing； and start building their
house anew on a more earthly and enduring foundation。 But we are so
blind to our own shortcomings； so wide awake to those of others。
Everything that happens to us is always the other person's fault。 Angelina
would have gone on loving Edwin forever and ever and ever if only Edwin
had not grown so strange and different。 Edwin would have adored
Angelina through eternity if Angelina had only remained the same as
when he first adored her。
It is a cheerless hour for you both when the lamp of love has gone out
and the fire of affection is not yet lit； and you have to grope about in the
cold； raw dawn of life to kindle it。 God grant it catches light before the day
is too far spent。 Many sit shivering by the dead coals till night come。
But； there； of what use is it to preach？ Who that feels the rush of
young love through his veins can think it will ever flow feeble and slow！
To the boy of twenty it seems impossible that he will not love as wildly at
sixty as he does then。 He cannot call to mind any middle…aged or elderly
gentleman of his acquaintance who is known to exhibit symptoms of
frantic attachment； but that does not interfere in his belief in himself。 His
love will never fall； whoever else's may。 Nobody ever loved as he loves；
and so； of course； the rest of the world's experience can be no guide in his
case。 Alas！ alas！ ere thirty he has joined the ranks of the sneerers。 It is not
his fault。 Our passions； both the good and bad； cease with our blushes。 We
do not hate； nor grieve； nor joy； nor despair in our thirties like we did in
our teens。 Disappointment does not suggest suicide； and we quaff success
without intoxication。
We take all things in a minor key as we grow older。 There are few
majestic passages in the later acts of life's opera。 Ambition takes a less
ambitious aim。 Honor becomes more reasonable and conveniently adapts
itself to circumstances。 And lovelove dies。 〃Irreverence for the dreams of
youth〃 soon creeps like a killing frost upon our hearts。 The tender shoots
and the expanding flowers are nipped and withered； and of a vine that
yearned to stretch its tendrils round the world there is left but a sapless
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THE IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW。
stump。
My fair friends will deem all this rank heresy； I know。 So far from a
man's not loving after he has passed boyhood； it is not till there is a good
deal of gray in his hair that they think his protestations at all worthy of
attention。 Young ladies take their notions of our sex from the novels
written by their own； and compared with the monstrosities that
masquerade for men in the pages of that nightmare literature； Pythagoras'
plucked bird and Frankenstein's demon were fair average specimens of
humanity。
In these so…called books； the chief lover； or Greek god； as he is
admiringly referred toby the way； they do not say which 〃Greek god〃 it
is that the gentleman bears such a striking likeness to； it might be hump…
backed Vulcan； or double…faced Janus； or even driveling Silenus； the god
of abstruse mysteries。 He resembles the whole family of them； however； in
being a blackguard； and perhaps this is what is meant。 To even the little
manliness his classical prototypes possessed； though； he can lay no claim
whatever； being a listless effeminate noodle； on the shady side of forty。
But oh！ the depth and strength of this elderly party's emotion for some
bread…and…butter school…girl！ Hide your heads； ye young Romeos and
Leanders！ this _blase_ old beau loves with an hysterical fervor that
requires four adjectives to every noun to properly describe。
It is well； dear ladies； for us old sinners that you study only books。 Did
you read mankind； you would know that the lad's shy stammering tells a
truer tale than our bold eloquence。 A boy's love comes from a full heart； a
man's is more often the result of a full stomach。 Indeed； a man's sluggish
current may not be called love； compared with the rushing fountain that
wells up when a boy's heart is struck with the heavenly rod。 If you would
taste love； drink of the pure stream that youth pours out at your feet。 Do
not wait till it has become a muddy river before you stoop to catch its
waves。
Or is it that you like its bitter flavorthat the clear； limpid water is
insipid to your palate and that the pollution of its after…course gives it a
relish to your lips？ Must we believe those who tell us that a hand foul with
the filth of a shameful life is the only one a young girl cares to be caressed
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by？
That is the teaching that is bawled out day by day from between those
yellow covers。 Do they ever pause to think； I wonder； those devil's
ladyhelps； what mischief they are doing crawling about God's garden； and
telling childish Eves and silly Adams that sin is sweet and that decency is
ridiculous and vulgar？ How many an innocent girl do they not degrade
into an evil…minded woman？ To how many a weak lad do they not point
out the dirty by…path as the shortest cut to a maiden's heart？ It is not as if
they wrote of life as it really is。 Speak truth； and right will take care of
itself。 But their pictures are coarse daubs painted from the sickly fancies of
their own diseased imagination。
We want to think of women notas their own sex would show them
as Lorleis luring us to destruction； but as good angels beckoning us
upward。 They have more power for good or evil than they dream of。 It is
just at the very age when a man's character is forming that he tumbles into
love； and then the lass he loves has the making or marring of him。
Unconsciously he molds himself to what she would have him； good or bad。
I am sorry to have to be ungallant enough to say that I do not think they
always use their influence for the best。 Too often the female world is
bounded hard and fast within the limits of the commonplace。 Their ideal
hero is a prince of littleness； and to become that many a powerful mind；
enchanted by love； is 〃lost to life and use and name and fame。〃
And yet； women； you could make us so much better if you only would。
It rests with you； more than with all the preachers； to roll this world a little
nearer heaven。 Chivalry is not dead： it only sleeps for want of work to do。
It is you who must wake it to noble deeds。 You must be worthy of knightly
worship。
You must be higher than ourselves。 It was for Una that the Red Cross
Knight did war。 For no painted； mincing court dame could the dragon have
been slain。 Oh； ladies fair； be fair in mind and soul as well as face； so that
brave knights may win glory in your service！ Oh； woman； throw off your
disguising cloaks of selfishness； effrontery； and affectation！ Stand forth
once more a queen in your royal robe of simple purity。 A thousand swords；
now rusting in ignoble sloth； shall leap from their scabbards to do battle
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THE IDLE THOUGHTS OF AN IDLE FELLOW。
for your honor against wrong。 A thousand Sir Rolands shall lay lance in
rest； and Fear； Avarice； Pleasure； and Ambition shall go down in the dust
before your colors。
What noble deeds were we not ripe for in the days when we loved？
What noble lives could we not have lived for her sake？ Our love was a
religion we could have died for。 It was no mere human creature like
ourselves that we adored。 It was a queen that we paid homage to； a
goddess that we worshiped。
And how madly we did worship！ And how sweet it was to worship！ Ah；
lad； cherish love's young dream while it lasts！ You will know too soon
how truly little Tom Moore sang when he said that there was nothing half
so sweet in life。 Even when it brings misery it is a wild； romantic misery；
all unlike the dull； worldly pain of after…sorrows。 When you have lost her
when the light is gone out from your life and the world stretches before
you a long； dark horror； even then a half…enchantment mingles with your
despair。
And who would not risk its terrors to gain its raptures？ Ah； what
raptures they were！ The mere recollection thrills you。 How delicious it was
to tell her that you loved her； that you lived for her； that you would die for
her！ How you did rave； to be sure； what floods of extravagant nonsense
you poured forth； and oh； how cruel it was of her to pretend not to believe
you！ In what awe you stood of her！ How miserable you were when you
had offended her！ And yet； how pleasant to be bullied by her and to sue for
pardon without having the slightest notion of what your fault was！ How
dark the world was when she snubbed you； as she often did； the lit
