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第11章

memories and portraits-第11章

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The first time that I saw him; I fancy Robert was pretty old 

already: he had certainly begun to use his years as a stalking 

horse。  Latterly he was beyond all the impudencies of logic; 

considering a reference to the parish register worth all the 

reasons in the world; 〃I AM OLD AND WELL STRICKEN IN YEARS;〃 he was 

wont to say; and I never found any one bold enough to answer the 

argument。  Apart from this vantage that he kept over all who were 

not yet octogenarian; he had some other drawbacks as a gardener。  

He shrank the very place he cultivated。  The dignity and reduced 

gentility of his appearance made the small garden cut a sorry 

figure。  He was full of tales of greater situations in his younger 

days。  He spoke of castles and parks with a humbling familiarity。  

He told of places where under…gardeners had trembled at his looks; 

where there were meres and swanneries; labyrinths of walk and 

wildernesses of sad shrubbery in his control; till you could not 

help feeling that it was condescension on his part to dress your 

humbler garden plots。  You were thrown at once into an invidious 

position。  You felt that you were profiting by the needs of 

dignity; and that his poverty and not his will consented to your 

vulgar rule。  Involuntarily you compared yourself with the 

swineherd that made Alfred watch his cakes; or some bloated citizen 

who may have given his sons and his condescension to the fallen 

Dionysius。  Nor were the disagreeables purely fanciful and 

metaphysical; for the sway that he exercised over your feelings he 

extended to your garden; and; through the garden; to your diet。  He 

would trim a hedge; throw away a favourite plant; or fill the most 

favoured and fertile section of the garden with a vegetable that 

none of us could eat; in supreme contempt for our opinion。  If you 

asked him to send you in one of your own artichokes; 〃THAT I WULL; 

MEM;〃 he would say; 〃WITH PLEASURE; FOR IT IS MAIR BLESSED TO GIVE 

THAN TO RECEIVE。〃  Ay; and even when; by extra twisting of the 

screw; we prevailed on him to prefer our commands to his own 

inclination; and he went away; stately and sad; professing that 

〃OUR WULL WAS HIS PLEASURE;〃 but yet reminding us that he would do 

it 〃WITH FEELIN'S;〃 … even then; I say; the triumphant master felt 

humbled in his triumph; felt that he ruled on sufferance only; that 

he was taking a mean advantage of the other's low estate; and that 

the whole scene had been one of those 〃slights that patient merit 

of the unworthy takes。〃



In flowers his taste was old…fashioned and catholic; affecting 

sunflowers and dahlias; wallflowers and roses and holding in 

supreme aversion whatsoever was fantastic; new…fashioned or wild。  

There was one exception to this sweeping ban。  Foxgloves; though 

undoubtedly guilty on the last count; he not only spared; but 

loved; and when the shrubbery was being thinned; he stayed his hand 

and dexterously manipulated his bill in order to save every stately 

stem。  In boyhood; as he told me once; speaking in that tone that 

only actors and the old…fashioned common folk can use nowadays; his 

heart grew 〃PROUD〃 within him when he came on a burn…course among 

the braes of Manor that shone purple with their graceful trophies; 

and not all his apprenticeship and practice for so many years of 

precise gardening had banished these boyish recollections from his 

heart。  Indeed; he was a man keenly alive to the beauty of all that 

was bygone。  He abounded in old stories of his boyhood; and kept 

pious account of all his former pleasures; and when he went (on a 

holiday) to visit one of the fabled great places of the earth where 

he had served before; he came back full of little pre…Raphaelite 

reminiscences that showed real passion for the past; such as might 

have shaken hands with Hazlitt or Jean…Jacques。



But however his sympathy with his old feelings might affect his 

liking for the foxgloves; the very truth was that he scorned all 

flowers together。  They were but garnishings; childish toys; 

trifling ornaments for ladies' chimney…shelves。  It was towards his 

cauliflowers and peas and cabbage that his heart grew warm。  His 

preference for the more useful growths was such that cabbages were 

found invading the flower…pots; and an outpost of savoys was once 

discovered in the centre of the lawn。  He would prelect over some 

thriving plant with wonderful enthusiasm; piling reminiscence on 

reminiscence of former and perhaps yet finer specimens。  Yet even 

then he did not let the credit leave himself。  He had; indeed; 

raised 〃FINER O' THEM;〃 but it seemed that no one else had been 

favoured with a like success。  All other gardeners; in fact; were 

mere foils to his own superior attainments; and he would recount; 

with perfect soberness of voice and visage; how so and so had 

wondered; and such another could scarcely give credit to his eyes。  

Nor was it with his rivals only that he parted praise and blame。  

If you remarked how well a plant was looking; he would gravely 

touch his hat and thank you with solemn unction; all credit in the 

matter falling to him。  If; on the other hand; you called his 

attention to some back…going vegetable; he would quote Scripture: 

〃PAUL MAY PLANT AND APOLLOS MAY WATER;〃 all blame being left to 

Providence; on the score of deficient rain or untimely frosts。



There was one thing in the garden that shared his preference with 

his favourite cabbages and rhubarb; and that other was the beehive。  

Their sound; their industry; perhaps their sweet product also; had 

taken hold of his imagination and heart; whether by way of memory 

or no I cannot say; although perhaps the bees too were linked to 

him by some recollection of Manor braes and his country childhood。  

Nevertheless; he was too chary of his personal safety or (let me 

rather say) his personal dignity to mingle in any active office 

towards them。  But he could stand by while one of the contemned 

rivals did the work for him; and protest that it was quite safe in 

spite of his own considerate distance and the cries of the 

distressed assistant。  In regard to bees; he was rather a man of 

word than deed; and some of his most striking sentences had the 

bees for text。  〃THEY ARE INDEED WONDERFUL CREATURES; MEM;〃 he said 

once。  〃THEY JUST MIND ME O' WHAT THE QUEEN OF SHEBA SAID TO 

SOLOMON … AND I THINK SHE SAID IT WI' A SIGH; … 'THE HALF OF IT 

HATH NOT BEEN TOLD UNTO ME。'〃



As far as the Bible goes; he was deeply read。  Like the old 

Covenanters; of whom he was the worthy representative; his mouth 

was full of sacred quotations; it was the book that he had studied 

most and thought upon most deeply。  To many people in his station 

the Bible; and perhaps Burns; are the only books of any vital 

literary merit that they read; feeding themselves; for the rest; on 

the draff of country newspapers; and the very instructive but not 

very palatable pabulum of some cheap educational series。  This was 

Robert's position。  All day long he had dreamed of the Hebrew 

stories; and his head had been full of Hebrew poetry and Gospel 

ethics; until they had struck deep root into his heart; and the 

very expressions had become a part of him; so that he rarely spoke 

without some antique idiom or Scripture mannerism that gave a 

raciness to the merest trivialities of talk。  But the influence of 

the Bible did not stop here。  There was more in Robert than quaint 

phrase and ready store of reference。  He was imbued with a spirit 

of peace and love: he interposed between man and wife: he threw 

himself between the angry; touching his hat the while with all the 

ceremony of an usher: he protected the birds from everybody but 

himself; seeing; I suppose; a great difference between official 

execution and wanton sport。  His mistress telling him one day to 

put some ferns into his master's particular corner; and adding; 

〃Though; in

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