the spirit of place and other essays-第6章

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having　a　lively　sense　of　contrast　it　is　not　a　little　pleasant　to

imagine　an　elderly　lady　of　corresponding　station　in　England　replying

so　to　importunities　for　alms；　albeit　we　have　nothing　answering　to

the　good　fellowship　of　a　broad　patois　used　currently　by　rich　and

poor；　and　yet　slightly　grotesque　in　the　case　of　all　speakersa

dialect　in　which；　for　example；　no　sermon　is　ever　preached；　and　in

which　no　book　is　ever　printed；　except　for　fun；　a　dialect　〃familiar；

but　by　no　means　vulgar。〃　　Besides；　even　if　our　Englishwoman　could　by

any　possibility　bring　herself　to　say　to　a　mendicant；　〃Excuse　me；

dear；　I；　too；　am　a　poor　devil；〃　she　would　still　not　have　the

opportunity　of　putting　the　last　word　punctually　into　the　feminine；

which　does　so　complete　the　character　of　the　sentence。



The　phrase　at　the　head　of　this　paper　is　the　far　more　graceful　phrase

of　excuse　customary　in　the　courteous　manners　of　Portugal。　　And

everywhere　in　the　South；　where　an　almost　well…dressed　old　woman；　who

suddenly　begins　to　beg　from　you　when　you　least　expected　it；　calls

you　〃my　daughter；〃　you　can　hardly　reply　without　kindness。　　Where　the

tourist　is　thoroughly　well　known；　doubtless　the　company　of　beggars

are　used　to　savage　manners　in　the　rich；　but　about　the　byways　and

remoter　places　there　must　still　be　some　dismay　at　the　anger；　the

silence；　the　indignation；　and　the　inexpensive　haughtiness　wherewith

the　opportunity　of　alms…giving　is　received　by　travellers。



In　nothing　do　we　show　how　far　the　West　is　from　the　East　so

emphatically　as　we　show　it　by　our　lofty　ways　towards　those　who　so

manifestly　put　themselves　at　our　feet。　　It　is　certainly　not　pleasant

to　see　them　there；　but　silence　or　a　storm　of　impersonal　protesta

protest　that　appeals　vaguely　less　to　the　beggars　than　to　some　not

impossible　policedoes　not　seem　the　most　appropriate　manner　of

rebuking　them。　　We　have；　it　may　be；　a　scruple　on　the　point　of　human

dignity；　compromised　by　the　entreaty　and　the　thanks　of　the

mendicant；　but　we　have　a　strange　way　of　vindicating　that　dignity

when　we　refuse　to　man；　woman；　or　child　the　recognition　of　a　simply

human　word。　　Nay；　our　offence　is　much　the　greater　of　the　two。　　It　is

not　merely　a　rough　and　contemptuous　intercourse；　it　is　the　refusal

of　intercoursethe　last　outrage。　　How　do　we　propose　to　redress

those　conditions　of　life　that　annoy　us　when　a　brother　whines；　if　we

deny　the　presence；　the　voice；　and　the　being　of　this　brother；　and　if；

because　fortune　has　refused　him　money；　we　refuse　him　existence？



We　take　the　matter　too　seriously；　or　not　seriously　enough；　to　hold

it　in　the　indifference　of　the　wise。　　〃Have　patience；　little　saint；〃

is　a　phrase　that　might　teach　us　the　cheerful　way　to　endure　our　own

unintelligible　fortunes　in　the　midst；　say；　of　the　population　of　a

hill…village　among　the　most　barren　of　the　Maritime　Alps；　where　huts

of　stone　stand　among　the　stones　of　an　unclothed　earth；　and　there　is

no　sign　of　daily　bread。　　The　people；　albeit　unused　to　travellers；

yet　know　by　instinct　what　to　do；　and　beg　without　the　delay　of　a

moment　as　soon　as　they　see　your　unwonted　figure。　　Let　it　be　taken

for　granted　that　you　give　all　you　can；　some　form　of　refusal　becomes

necessary　at　last；　and　the　gentlestit　is　worth　while　to　remember

is　the　most　effectual。　　An　indignant　tourist；　one　who　to　the　portent

of　a　puggaree　which；　perhaps；　he　wears　on　a　grey　day；　adds　that　of

ungovernable　rage；　is　so　wild　a　visitor　that　no　attempt　at　all　is

made　to　understand　him；　and　the　beggars　beg　dismayed　but　unalarmed；

uninterruptedly；　without　a　pause　or　a　conjecture。　　They　beg　by　rote；

thinking　of　something　else；　as　occasion　arises；　and　all　indifferent

to　the　violence　of　the　rich。



It　is　the　merry　beggar　who　has　so　lamentably　disappeared。　　If　a

beggar　is　still　merry　anywhere；　he　hides　away　what　it　would　so　cheer

and　comfort　us　to　see；　he　practises　not　merely　the　conventional

seeming；　which　is　hardly　intended　to　convince；　but　a　more　subtle　and

dramatic　kind　of　semblance；　of　no　good　influence　upon　the　morals　of

the　road。　　He　no　longer　trusts　the　world　with　a　sight　of　his　gaiety。

He　is　not　a　wholehearted　mendicant；　and　no　longer　keeps　that　liberty

of　unstable　balance　whereby　an　unattached　creature　can　go　in　a　new

direction　with　a　new　wind。　　The　merry　beggar　was　the　only　adventurer

free　to　yield　to　the　lighter　touches　of　chance；　the　touches　that　a

habit　of　resistance　has　made　imperceptible　to　the　seated　and　stable

social　world。



The　visible　flitting　figure　of　the　unfettered　madman　sprinkled　our

literature　with　mad　songs；　and　even　one　or　two　poets　of　to…day　have；

by　tradition；　written　them；　but　that　wild　source　of　inspiration　has

been　stopped；　it　has　been　built　over；　lapped　and　locked；　imprisoned；

led　underground。　　The　light　melancholy　and　the　wind…blown　joys　of

the　song　of　the　distraught；　which　the　poets　were　once　ingenious　to

capture；　have　ceased　to　sound　one　note　of　liberty　in　the　world's

ears。　　But　it　seems　that　the　grosser　and　saner　freedom　of　the　happy

beggar　is　still　the　subject　of　a　Spanish　song。



That　song　is　gay；　not　defiant　it　is　not　an　outlaw's　or　a　robber's；

it　is　not　a　song　of　violence　or　fear。　　It　is　the　random　trolling

note　of　a　man　who　owes　his　liberty　to　no　disorder；　failure；　or　ill…

fortune；　but　takes　it　by　choice　from　the　voluntary　world；　enjoys　it

at　the　hand　of　unreluctant　charity；　who　twits　the　world　with　its　own

choice　of　bonds；　but　has　not　broken　his　own　by　force。　　It　seems；

therefore；　the　song　of　an　indomitable　liberty　of　movement；　light

enough　for　the　puffs　of　a　zephyr　chance。







THE　LADIES　OF　THE　IDYLL







Little　Primrose　dames　of　the　English　classic；　the　wife　and　daughters

of　the　Vicar　of　Wakefield　have　no　claim　whatever　to　this　name　of

lady。　　It　is　given　to　them　in　this　page　because　Goldsmith　himself

gave　it　to　them　in　the　yet　undepreciated　state　of　the　word；　and　for

the　better　reason　that　he　obviously　intended　them　to　be　the　equals

of　the　men　to　whom　he　marries　them；　those　men　being；　with　all　their

faults；　gentlemen。　　Goldsmith；　in　a　word；　meant　them　to　be　ladies；

of　country　breeding；　but　certainly　fit　for　membership　of　that　large

class　of　various　fortune　within　which　the　name　makes　a　sufficient

equality。



He；　their　author；　thought　them　sufficient。　　Having　amused　himself

ingeniously　throughout　the　story　with　their　nameless　vulgarities；　he

finally　hurries　them　into　so　much　sentiment　as　may　excuse　the

convention　of　heroes　in　love。　　He　plays　with　their　coarseness　like　a

perfectly　pleased　and　clever　showman；　and　then　piously　and　happily

shuts　up　his　couplesthe　gentle　Dr。　Primrose　with　his　abominable

Deborah；　the　excellent　Mr。　Burchell　with　the　paltry　Sophia；　Olivia

but　no；　Olivia　is　not　so　certainly　happy　ever　after；　she　has　a

captured　husband　ready　for　her　in　a　state　of　ignominy；　but　she　has

also　a　forgotten　farmer　somewhere　in　the　backgroundthe　unhappy　man

whom；　with　her　father's　permission；　this　sorry　heroine　had　promised

to　marry　in　order　that　his　wooing　might　pluck　forward　the　lagging

suit　of　the　squire。



Olivia；　then；　plays　her　common　trick　upon　the　harmless　Williams；　her

father　conniving；　with　a　provision　that　he　urges　with　some

demonstration　of　virtue：　　she　shall　consent　to　make　the　farmer　happy

if　the　proposal　of　the　squire　be　not　after　all　forthcoming。　　But　it

is　so　evident　her　author　knew　no　better；　that　this　matter　may　pass。

It　involves　a　point　of　honour；　of　which　no　oneneither　the　maker　of

the　book　nor　anyone　he　madeis　aware。　　What　is　better　worth

considering　is　the　fact　that　Goldsmith　was　completely　aware　of　the

unredeemed　vulgarity　of　the　ladies　of　the　Idyll；　and　cheerfully　took

it　for　granted　as　the　thing　to　be　expected　from　the　mother…in…law　of

a　country　gentleman　and　the　daughters　of　a　scholar。　　The　education

of　women　had　sunk　into　a　degradation　never　reached　before；　inasmuch

as　it　was　degraded　in　relation　to　that　of　men。　　It　would　matter

little　indeed　that　Mrs。　Primrose　〃could　read　any　English　book

without　much　spelling〃　if　her　husband　and　son　were　as　definitely

limited　to　journeyman's　field…labour　as　she　was　to　the　pickling　and

the　gooseberry　wine。　　Any　of　those　industries　is　a　better　and　more

liberal　business　than　unselect　reading；　for　instance；　or　than

unselect　writing。　　Therefore　let　me　not　be　misunderstood　to　complain

too　indiscriminately　of　that　century　or　of　an　unlettered　state。

What　is　really　unhandsome　is　the　new；　slovenly；　and　corrupt

inequality　whereinto　the　century　had　fallen。



That　the　mother　of　daughters　and　sons　should　be　fatuous；　a　village

worldling；　suspicious；　ambitious；　ill…bred；　ignorant；　gross；

insolent；　foul…mouthed；　pushing；　importunate；　and　a　fool；　seems

natural；　almost　innocently　natural；　in　Goldsmith's　story；　the

squalid　Mrs。　Primrose　is　all　this。　　He　is　still　able；　through　his

Vicar；　in　the　most　charmingly　humorous　passage　in　the　book；　to

praise　her　for　her　〃prudence；　economy；　and　obedience。〃　　Her　other；

more　disgusting；　characteristics　give　her　husband　an　occasion　for

rebuking　her　as　〃Woman！〃　　This　is　done；　for　example；　when；　despite

her　obedience；　she　refuses　to　receive　that　unlucky　schemer；　her　own

daughter；　returned　in　ruins；　without　insulting　her　by　the　sallies　of

a　kitchen　sarcasm。



She　plots　with　her　daughters　the　most　disastrous　fortune　hunt。　　She

has　given　them　a　teaching　so　effectual　that　the　Vicar　has　no　fear

lest　the　paltry　Sophia　should　lose　her　heart　to　the　good；　the

sensible　Burchell；　who　had　saved　her　life；　for　he　has　no　fortune。

Mrs。　Primrose　begins　grotesquely；　with　her　tedious　histories　of　the

dishes　at　dinner；　and　she　ends　upon　the　last　page；　anxious；　amid　the

general　happiness；　in　regard　to　securing　the　head　of　the　table。

Upon　these　feminine　humours　the　author　sheds　his　Vicar's　indulgent

smile。　　What　a　smile　for　a　self…respecting　husband　to　be　pricked　to

smile！　　A　householder　would　wince；　one　would　think；　at　having

opportunity　to　bestow　its　tolerance　upon　his　cook。



Between　these　two　housewifely　appearances；　Mrs。　Primrose　potters

through　the　book；　plotsalways　squalidly；　talks　the　worst　kinds　of

folly；　takes　the　lead；　with　a　loud　laugh；　in　insulting　a　former

friend；　crushes　her　repentant　daughter　with　reproaches　that　show

envy　rather　than　indignation；　and　kisses　that　daughter　with

congratulation　upon　hearing　that　she　had；　unconsciously　and

unintentionally；　contracted　a　valid　marriage　（with　a　rogue）；　spoils

and　makes　common　and　unclean　everything　she　touches；　has　but　two

really　gentle　and　tender　moments　all　through　the　story；　and　sets；

once　for　all；　the　example　in　literature　of　the　woman　we　find

thenceforth；　in　Thackeray；　in　Douglas　Jerrold；　in　Dickens；　and　un

peu　partout。



Hardly　less　unspiritual；　in　spite　of　their　conventional　romance　of

youth　and　beauty；　are　the　daughters　of　the　squalid　one。　　The　author；

in　making　them　simple；　has　not　abstained　from　making　them　cunning。

Their　vanities　are　well　enough；