the magic skin(驴皮记)-第22章

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abysses　of　this　strange　landscape。　Sometimes　the　feeble　lights　of　the
street　lamps　sent　up　yellow　gleams　through　the　fog；　and　in　each　street
dimly　outlined　the　undulations　of　a　crowd　of　roofs；　like　billows　in　a
motionless　sea。　Very　occasionally；　too；　a　face　appeared　in　this　gloomy
waste；　above　the　flowers　in　some　skyey　garden　I　caught　a　glimpse　of　an
old　woman's　crooked　angular　profile　as　she　watered　her　nasturtiums；
or；　in　a　crazy　attic　window；　a　young　girl；　fancying　herself　quite
alone　as　she　dressed　herselfa　view　of　nothing　more　than　a　fair
forehead　and　long　tresses　held　above　her　by　a　pretty　white　arm。

〃I　liked　to　see　the　short…lived　plant…life　in　the　gutterspoor　weeds
that　a　storm　soon　washed　away。　I　studied　the　mosses；　with　their　colors
revived　by　showers；　or　transformed　by　the　sun　into　a　brown　velvet　that
fitfully　caught　the　light。　Such　things　as　these　formed　my　recreations
the　passing　poetic　moods　of　daylight；　the　melancholy　mists；　sudden
gleams　of　sunlight；　the　silence　and　the　magic　of　night；　the　mysteries
of　dawn；　the　smoke　wreaths　from　each　chimney；　every　chance　event；　in
fact；　in　my　curious　world　became　familiar　to　me。　I　came　to　love　this
prison　of　my　own　choosing。　This　level　Parisian　prairie　of　roofs；
beneath　which　lay　populous　abysses；　suited　my　humor；　and　harmonized
with　my　thoughts。

〃Sudden　descents　into　the　world　from　the　divine　height　of　scientific
meditation　are　very　exhausting；　and；　besides；　I　had　apprehended
perfectly　the　bare　life　of　the　cloister。　When　I　made　up　my　mind　to
carry　out　this　new　plan　of　life；　I　looked　for　quarters　in　the　most
out…of…the…way　parts　of　Paris。　One　evening；　as　I　returned　home　to　the
Rue　des　Cordiers　from　the　Place　de　l'Estrapade；　I　saw　a　girl　of
fourteen　playing　with　a　battledore　at　the　corner　of　the　Rue　de　Cluny；
her　winsome　ways　and　laughter　amused　the　neighbors。　September　was　not
yet　over；　it　was　warm　and　fine；　so　that　women　sat　chatting　before
their　doors　as　if　it　were　a　fete…day　in　some　country　town。　At　first　I
watched　the　charming　expression　of　the　girl's　face　and　her　graceful
attitudes；　her　pose　fit　for　a　painter。　It　was　a　pretty　sight。　I　looked
about　me；　seeking　to　understand　this　blithe　simplicity　in　the　midst　of
Paris；　and　saw　that　the　street　was　a　blind　alley　and　but　little
frequented。　I　remembered　that　Jean　Jacques　had　once　lived　here；　and
looked　up　the　Hotel　Saint…Quentin。　Its　dilapidated　condition　awakened
hopes　of　a　cheap　lodging；　and　I　determined　to　enter。

〃I　found　myself　in　a　room　with　a　low　ceiling；　the　candles；　in　classic…
looking　copper　candle…sticks；　were　set　in　a　row　under　each　key。　The
predominating　cleanliness　of　the　room　made　a　striking　contrast　to　the
usual　state　of　such　places。　This　one　was　as　neat　as　a　bit　of　genre；
there　was　a　charming　trimness　about　the　blue　coverlet；　the　cooking
pots　and　furniture。　The　mistress　of　the　house　rose　and　came　to　me。　She
seemed　to　be　about　forty　years　of　age；　sorrows　had　left　their　traces
on　her　features；　and　weeping　had　dimmed　her　eyes。　I　deferentially
mentioned　the　amount　I　could　pay；　it　seemed　to　cause　her　no　surprise；
she　sought　out　a　key　from　the　row；　went　up　to　the　attics　with　me；　and
showed　me　a　room　that　looked　out　on　the　neighboring　roofs　and　courts；
long　poles　with　linen　drying　on　them　hung　out　of　the　window。

〃Nothing　could　be　uglier　than　this　garret；　awaiting　its　scholar；　with
its　dingy　yellow　walls　and　odor　of　poverty。　The　roofing　fell　in　a
steep　slope；　and　the　sky　was　visible　through　chinks　in　the　tiles。
There　was　room　for　a　bed；　a　table；　and　a　few　chairs；　and　beneath　the
highest　point　of　the　roof　my　piano　could　stand。　Not　being　rich　enough
to　furnish　this　cage　（that　might　have　been　one　of　the　Piombi　of
Venice）；　the　poor　woman　had　never　been　able　to　let　it；　and　as　I　had
saved　from　the　recent　sale　the　furniture　that　was　in　a　fashion
peculiarly　mine；　I　very　soon　came　to　terms　with　my　landlady；　and　moved
in　on　the　following　day。

〃For　three　years　I　lived　in　this　airy　sepulchre；　and　worked
unflaggingly　day　and　night；　and　so　great　was　the　pleasure　that　study
seemed　to　me　the　fairest　theme　and　the　happiest　solution　of　life。　The
tranquillity　and　peace　that　a　scholar　needs　is　something　as　sweet　and
exhilarating　as　love。　Unspeakable　joys　are　showered　on　us　by　the
exertion　of　our　mental　faculties；　the　quest　of　ideas；　and　the　tranquil
contemplation　of　knowledge；　delights　indescribable；　because　purely
intellectual　and　impalpable　to　our　senses。　So　we　are　obliged　to　use
material　terms　to　express　the　mysteries　of　the　soul。　The　pleasure　of
striking　out　in　some　lonely　lake　of　clear　water；　with　forests；　rocks；
and　flowers　around；　and　the　soft　stirring　of　the　warm　breeze；all
this　would　give；　to　those　who　knew　them　not；　a　very　faint　idea　of　the
exultation　with　which　my　soul　bathed　itself　in　the　beams　of　an　unknown
light；　hearkened　to　the　awful　and　uncertain　voice　of　inspiration；　as
vision　upon　vision　poured　from　some　unknown　source　through　my
throbbing　brain。

〃No　earthly　pleasure　can　compare　with　the　divine　delight　of　watching
the　dawn　of　an　idea　in　the　space　of　abstractions　as　it　rises　like　the
morning　sun；　an　idea　that；　better　still；　attains　gradually　like　a
child　to　puberty　and　man's　estate。　Study　lends　a　kind　of　enchantment
to　all　our　surroundings。　The　wretched　desk　covered　with　brown　leather
at　which　I　wrote；　my　piano；　bed；　and　armchair；　the　odd　wall…paper　and
furniture　seemed　to　have　for　me　a　kind　of　life　in　them；　and　to　be
humble　friends　of　mine　and　mute　partakers　of　my　destiny。　How　often
have　I　confided　my　soul　to　them　in　a　glance！　A　warped　bit　of　beading
often　met　my　eyes；　and　suggested　new　developments；a　striking　proof
of　my　system；　or　a　felicitous　word　by　which　to　render　my　all　but
inexpressible　thought。　By　sheer　contemplation　of　the　things　about　me　I
discerned　an　expression　and　a　character　in　each。　If　the　setting　sun
happened　to　steal　in　through　my　narrow　window；　they　would　take　new
colors；　fade　or　shine；　grow　dull　or　gay；　and　always　amaze　me　with　some
new　effect。　These　trifling　incidents　of　a　solitary　life；　which　escape
those　preoccupied　with　outward　affairs；　make　the　solace　of　prisoners。
And　what　was　I　but　the　captive　of　an　idea；　imprisoned　in　my　system；
but　sustained　also　by　the　prospect　of　a　brilliant　future？　At　each
obstacle　that　I　overcame；　I　seemed　to　kiss　the　soft　hands　of　a　woman
with　a　fair　face；　a　wealthy；　well…dressed　woman；　who　should　some　day
say　softly；　while　she　caressed　my　hair：

〃　'Poor　Angel；　how　thou　hast　suffered！'

〃I　had　undertaken　two　great　worksone　a　comedy　that　in　a　very　short
time　must　bring　me　wealth　and　fame；　and　an　entry　into　those　circles
whither　I　wished　to　return；　to　exercise　the　royal　privileges　of　a　man
of　genius。　You　all　saw　nothing　in　that　masterpiece　but　the　blunder　of
a　young　man　fresh　from　college；　a　babyish　fiasco。　Your　jokes　clipped
the　wings　of　a　throng　of　illusions；　which　have　never　stirred　since
within　me。　You；　dear　Emile；　alone　brought　soothing　to　the　deep　wounds
that　others　had　made　in　my　heart。　You　alone　will　admire　my　'Theory　of
the　Will。'　I　devoted　most　of　my　time　to　that　long　work；　for　which　I
studied　Oriental　languages；　physiology　and　anatomy。　If　I　do　not
deceive　myself；　my　labors　will　complete　the　task　begun　by　Mesmer；
Lavater；　Gall；　and　Bichat；　and　open　up　new　paths　in　science。

〃There　ends　that　fair　life　of　mine；　the　daily　sacrifice；　the
unrecognized　silkworm's　toil；　that　is；　perhaps；　its　own　sole
recompense。　Since　attaining　years　of　discretion；　until　the　day　when　I
finished　my　'Theory；'　I　observed；　learned；　wrote；　and　read
unintermittingly；　my　life　was　one　long　imposition；　as　schoolboys　say。
Though　by　nature　effeminately　attached　to　Oriental　indolence；　sensual
in　tastes；　and　a　wooer　of　dreams；　I　worked　incessantly；　and　refused　to
taste　any　of　the　enjoyments　of　Parisian　life。　Though　a　glutton；　I
became　abstemious；　and　loving　exercise　and　sea　voyages　as　I　did；　and
haunted　by　the　wish　to　visit　many　countries；　still　child　enough　to
play　at　ducks　and　drakes　with　pebbles　over　a　pond；　I　led　a　sedentary
life　with　a　pen　in　my　fingers。　I　liked　talking；　but　I　went　to　sit　and
mutely　listen　to　professors　who　gave　public　lectures　at　the
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