a personal record-第29章

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impromptu；　and　always　viva　voce；　which　is　the　outward；　obvious



difference　from　the　literary　operation　of　that　kind；　with



consequent　freshness　and　vigour　which　may　be　lacking　in　the



printed　word。　　With　appreciation；　which　comes　at　the　end；　when



the　critic　and　the　criticised　are　about　to　part；　it　is　otherwise。



The　sea　appreciation　of　one's　humble　talents　has　the　permanency



of　the　written　word；　seldom　the　charm　of　variety；　is　formal　in



its　phrasing。　　There　the　literary　master　has　the　superiority；



though　he；　too；　can　in　effect　but　sayand　often　says　it　in　the



very　phrase〃I　can　highly　recommend。〃　　Only　usually　he　uses　the



word　〃We；〃　there　being　some　occult　virtue　in　the　first　person



plural　which　makes　it　specially　fit　for　critical　and　royal



declarations。　　I　have　a　small　handful　of　these　sea　appreciations；



signed　by　various　masters；　yellowing　slowly　in　my　writing…table's



left　hand　drawer；　rustling　under　my　reverent　touch；　like　a



handful　of　dry　leaves　plucked　for　a　tender　memento　from　the　tree



of　knowledge。　　Strange！　　It　seems　that　it　is　for　these　few　bits



of　paper；　headed　by　the　names　of　a　few　Scots　and　English



shipmasters；　that　I　have　faced　the　astonished　indignations；　the



mockeries；　and　the　reproaches　of　a　sort　hard　to　bear　for　a　boy　of



fifteen；　that　I　have　been　charged　with　the　want　of　patriotism；



the　want　of　sense；　and　the　want　of　heart；　too；　that　I　went



through　agonies　of　self…conflict　and　shed　secret　tears　not　a　few；



and　had　the　beauties　of　the　Furca　Pass　spoiled　for　me；　and　have



been　called　an　〃incorrigible　Don　Quixote；〃　in　allusion　to　the



book…born　madness　of　the　knight。　　For　that　spoil！　　They　rustle；



those　bits　of　papersome　dozen　of　them　in　all。　In　that　faint；



ghostly　sound　there　live　the　memories　of　twenty　years；　the　voices



of　rough　men　now　no　more；　the　strong　voice　of　the　everlasting



winds；　and　the　whisper　of　a　mysterious　spell；　the　murmur　of　the



great　sea；　which　must　have　somehow　reached　my　inland　cradle　and



entered　my　unconscious　ear；　like　that　formula　of　Mohammedan　faith



the　Mussulman　father　whispers　into　the　ear　of　his　new…born



infant；　making　him　one　of　the　faithful　almost　with　his　first



breath。　　I　do　not　know　whether　I　have　been　a　good　seaman；　but　I



know　I　have　been　a　very　faithful　one。　　And；　after　all；　there　is



that　handful　of　〃characters〃　from　various　ships　to　prove　that　all



these　years　have　not　been　altogether　a　dream。　There　they　are；



brief；　and　monotonous　in　tone；　but　as　suggestive　bits　of　writing



to　me　as　any　inspired　page　to　be　found　in　literature。　　But　then；



you　see；　I　have　been　called　romantic。　　Well；　that　can't　be



helped。　　But　stay。　　I　seem　to　remember　that　I　have　been　called　a



realist；　also。　　And　as　that　charge；　too；　can　be　made　out；　let　us



try　to　live　up　to　it；　at　whatever　cost；　for　a　change。　　With　this



end　in　view；　I　will　confide　to　you　coyly；　and　only　because　there



is　no　one　about　to　see　my　blushes　by　the　light　of　the　midnight



lamp；　that　these　suggestive　bits　of　quarter…deck　appreciation；



one　and　all；　contain　the　words　〃strictly　sober。〃







Did　I　overhear　a　civil　murmur；　〃That's　very　gratifying；　to　be



sure？〃　　Well；　yes；　it　is　gratifyingthank　you。　　It　is　at　least



as　gratifying　to　be　certified　sober　as　to　be　certified　romantic；



though　such　certificates　would　not　qualify　one　for　the



secretaryship　of　a　temperance　association　or　for　the　post　of



official　troubadour　to　some　lordly　democratic　institution　such　as



the　London　County　Council；　for　instance。　　The　above　prosaic



reflection　is　put　down　here　only　in　order　to　prove　the　general



sobriety　of　my　judgment　in　mundane　affairs。　　I　make　a　point　of　it



because　a　couple　of　years　ago；　a　certain　short　story　of　mine



being　published　in　a　French　translation；　a　Parisian　criticI　am



almost　certain　it　was　M。　Gustave　Kahn　in　the　〃Gil　Blas〃giving



me　a　short　notice；　summed　up　his　rapid　impression　of　the　writer's



quality　in　the　words　un　puissant　reveur。　　So　be　it！　　Who　could



cavil　at　the　words　of　a　friendly　reader？　　Yet　perhaps　not　such　an



unconditional　dreamer　as　all　that。　　I　will　make　bold　to　say　that



neither　at　sea　nor　ashore　have　I　ever　lost　the　sense　of



responsibility。　　There　is　more　than　one　sort　of　intoxication。　



Even　before　the　most　seductive　reveries　I　have　remained　mindful



of　that　sobriety　of　interior　life；　that　asceticism　of　sentiment；



in　which　alone　the　naked　form　of　truth；　such　as　one　conceives　it；



such　as　one　feels　it；　can　be　rendered　without　shame。　　It　is　but　a



maudlin　and　indecent　verity　that　comes　out　through　the　strength



of　wine。　　I　have　tried　to　be　a　sober　worker　all　my　lifeall　my



two　lives。　　I　did　so　from　taste；　no　doubt；　having　an　instinctive



horror　of　losing　my　sense　of　full　self…possession；　but　also　from



artistic　conviction。　　Yet　there　are　so　many　pitfalls　on　each　side



of　the　true　path　that；　having　gone　some　way；　and　feeling　a　little



battered　and　weary；　as　a　middle…aged　traveller　will　from　the　mere



daily　difficulties　of　the　march；　I　ask　myself　whether　I　have　kept



always；　always　faithful　to　that　sobriety　where　in　there　is　power



and　truth　and　peace。







As　to　my　sea　sobriety；　that　is　quite　properly　certified　under　the



sign…manual　of　several　trustworthy　shipmasters　of　some　standing



in　their　time。　　I　seem　to　hear　your　polite　murmur　that　〃Surely



this　might　have　been　taken　for　granted。〃　　Well；　no。　　It　might　not



have　been。　　That　August　academical　body；　the　Marine　Department　of



the　Board　of　Trade；　takes　nothing　for　granted　in　the　granting　of



its　learned　degrees。　　By　its　regulations　issued　under　the　first



Merchant　Shipping　Act；　the　very　word　SOBER　must　be　written；　or　a



whole　sackful；　a　ton；　a　mountain　of　the　most　enthusiastic



appreciation　will　avail　you　nothing。　　The　door　of　the　examination



rooms　shall　remain　closed　to　your　tears　and　entreaties。　　The　most



fanatical　advocate　of　temperance　could　not　be　more　pitilessly



fierce　in　his　rectitude　than　the　Marine　Department　of　the　Board



of　Trade。　　As　I　have　been　face　to　face　at　various　times　with　all



the　examiners　of　the　Port　of　London　in　my　generation；　there　can



be　no　doubt　as　to　the　force　and　the　continuity　of　my



abstemiousness。　　Three　of　them　were　examiners　in　seamanship；　and



it　was　my　fate　to　be　delivered　into　the　hands　of　each　of　them　at



proper　intervals　of　sea　service。　　The　first　of　all；　tall；　spare；



with　a　perfectly　white　head　and　mustache；　a　quiet；　kindly　manner；



and　an　air　of　benign　intelligence；　must；　I　am　forced　to　conclude；



have　been　unfavourably　impressed　by　something　in　my　appearance。　



His　old；　thin　hands　loosely　clasped　resting　on　his　crossed　legs；



he　began　by　an　elementary　question；　in　a　mild　voice；　and　went　on；



went　on。　。　。　。　　It　lasted　for　hours；　for　hours。　　Had　I　been　a



strange　microbe　with　potentialities　of　deadly　mischief　to　the



Merchant　Service　I　could　not　have　been　submitted　to　a　more



microscopic　examination。　　Greatly　reassured　by　his　apparent



benevolence；　I　had　been　at　first　very　alert　in　my　answers。　　But



at　length　the　feeling　of　my　brain　getting　addled　crept　upon　me。　



And　still　the　passionless　process　went　on；　with　a　sense　of　untold



ages　having　been　spent　already　on　mere　preliminaries。　　Then　I　got



frightened。　　I　was　not　frightened　of　being　plucked；　that



eventuality　did　not　even　present　itself　to　my　mind。　　It　was



something　much　more　serious　and　weird。　　〃This　ancient　person；〃　I



said　to　myself；　terrified；　〃is　so　near　his　grave　that　he　must



have　lost　all　notion　of　time。　　He　is　considering　this　examination



in　terms　of　eternity。　　It　is　all　very　well　for　him。　　His　race　is



run。　　But　I　may　find