over the teacups-第65章

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years。　　It　is　a　long　time　since　I　have　read　the　〃Autocrat；〃　but　I

take　it　up　now　and　then　and　read　in　it　for　a　few　minutes；　not　always

without　some　degree　of　edification。



These　three　series　of　papers；　〃Autocrat；〃　〃Professor；〃　　〃Poet；〃　are

all　studies　of　life　from　somewhat　different　points　of　view。　　They　are

largely　made　up　of　sober　reflections；　and　appeared　to　me　to　require

some　lively　human　interest　to　save　them　from　wearisome　didactic

dulness。　　What　could　be　more　natural　than　that　love　should　find　its

way　among　the　young　people　who　helped　to　make　up　the　circle　gathered

around　the　table？　　Nothing　is　older　than　the　story　of　young　love。

Nothing　is　newer　than　that　same　old　story。　　A　bit　of　gilding　here　and

there　has　a　wonderful　effect　in　enlivening　a　landscape　or　an

apartment。　　Napoleon　consoled　the　Parisians　in　their　year　of　defeat

by　gilding　the　dome　of　the　Invalides。　　Boston　has　glorified　her　State

House　and　herself　at　the　expense　of　a　few　sheets　of　gold　leaf　laid　on

the　dome；　which　shines　like　a　sun　in　the　eyes　of　her　citizens；　and

like　a　star　in　those　of　the　approaching　traveller。　　I　think　the

gilding　of　a　love…story　helped　all　three　of　these　earlier　papers。

The　same　need　I　felt　in　the　series　of　papers　just　closed。　　The　slight

incident　of　Delilah's　appearance　and　disappearance　served　my　purpose

to　some　extent。　　But　what　should　I　do　with　Number　Five？　　The　reader

must　follow　out　her　career　for　himself。　　For　myself；　I　think　that　she

and　the　Tutor　have　both　utterly　forgotten　the　difference　of　their

years　in　the　fascination　of　intimate　intercourse。　　I　do　not　believe

that　a　nature　so　large；　so　rich　in　affection；　as　Number　Five's　is

going　to　fall　defeated　of　its　best　inheritance　of　life；　like　a　vine

which　finds　no　support　for　its　tendrils　to　twine　around；　and　so

creeps　along　the　ground　from　which　nature　meant　that　love　should　lift

it。　　I　feel　as　if　I　ought　to　follow　these　two　personages　of　my

sermonizing　story　until　they　come　together　or　separate；　to　fade；　to

wither；perhaps　to　die；　at　last；　of　something　like　what　the　doctors

call　heart…failure；　but　which　might　more　truly　be　called　heart…

starvation。　　When　I　say　die；　I　do　not　mean　necessarily　the　death　that

goes　into　the　obituary　column。　　It　may　come　to　that；　in　one　or　both；

but　I　think　that；　if　they　are　never　united；　Number　Five　will　outlive

the　Tutor；　who　will　fall　into　melancholy　ways；　and　pine　and　waste；

while　she　lives　along；　feeling　all　the　time　that　she　has　cheated

herself　of　happiness。　　I　hope　that　is　not　going　to　be　their　fortune；

or　misfortune。　　Vieille　fille　fait　jeune　mariee。　　What　a　youthful

bride　Number　Five　would　be；　if　she　could　only　make　up　her　mind　to

matrimony！　　In　the　mean　time　she　must　be　left　with　her　lambs　all

around　her。　　May　heaven　temper　the　winds　to　them；　for　they　have　been

shorn　very　close；　every　one　of　them；　of　their　golden　fleece　of

aspirations　and　anticipations。



I　must　avail　myself　of　this　opportunity　to　say　a　few　words　to　my

distant　friends　who　take　interest　enough　in　my　writings；　early　or

recent；　to　wish　to　enter　into　communication　with　me　by　letter；　or　to

keep　up　a　communication　already　begun。　　I　have　given　notice　in　print

that　the　letters；　books；　and　manuscripts　which　I　receive　by　mail　are

so　numerous　that　if　I　undertook　to　read　and　answer　them　all　I　should

have　little　time　for　anything　else。　　I　have　for　some　years　depended

on　the　assistance　of　a　secretary；　but　our　joint　efforts　have　proved

unable；　of　late；　to　keep　down　the　accumulations　which　come　in　with

every　mail。　　So　many　of　the　letters　I　receive　are　of　a　pleasant

character　that　it　is　hard　to　let　them　go　unacknowledged。　　The　extreme

friendliness　which　pervades　many　of　them　gives　them　a　value　which　I

rate　very　highly。　　When　large　numbers　of　strangers　insist　on　claiming

one　as　a　friend；　on　the　strength　of　what　he　has　written；　it　tends　to

make　him　think　of　himself　somewhat　indulgently。　　It　is　the　most

natural　thing　in　the　world　to　want　to　give　expression　to　the　feeling

the　loving　messages　from　far…off　unknown　friends　must　excite。　　Many　a

day　has　had　its　best　working　hours　broken　into；　spoiled　for　all

literary　work；　by　the　labor　of　answering　correspondents　whose　good

opinion　it　is　gratifying　to　have　called　forth；　but　who　were

unconsciously　laying　a　new　burden　on　shoulders　already　aching。　　I

know　too　well　that　what　I　say　will　not　reach　the　eyes　of　many　who

might　possibly　take　a　hint　from　it。　　Still　I　must　keep　repeating　it

before　breaking　off　suddenly　and　leaving　whole　piles　of　letters

unanswered。　　I　have　been　very　heavily　handicapped　for　many　years。　　It

is　partly　my　own　fault。　　From　what　my　correspondents　tell　me；　I　must

infer　that　I　have　established　a　dangerous　reputation　for　willingness

to　answer　all　sorts　of　letters。　　They　come　with　such　insinuating

humility；　they　cannot　bear　to　intrude　upon　my　time；　they　know　that

I　have　a　great　many　calls　upon　it；and　incontinently　proceed　to　lay

their　additional　weight　on　the　load　which　is　breaking　my　back。



The　hypocrisy　of　kind…hearted　people　is　one　of　the　most　painful

exhibitions　of　human　weakness。　　It　has　occurred　to　me　that　it　might

be　profitable　to　reproduce　some　of　my　unwritten　answers　to

correspondents。　　If　those　which　were　actually　written　and　sent　were

to　be　printed　in　parallel　columns　with　those　mentally　formed　but　not

written　out　responses　and　comments；　the　reader　would　get　some　idea　of

the　internal　conflicts　an　honest　and　not　unamiable　person　has　to　go

through；　when　he　finds　himself　driven　to　the　wall　by　a　correspondence

which　is　draining　his　vocabulary　to　find　expressions　that　sound　as

agreeably；　and　signify　as　little；　as　the　phrases　used　by　a

diplomatist　in　closing　an　official　communication。



No。　　1。　　Want　my　autograph；　do　you？　　And　don't　know　how　to　spell　my

name。　　An　a　for　an　e　in　my　middle　name。　　Leave　out　the　l　in　my　last

name。　　Do　you　know　how　people　hate　to　have　their　names　misspelled？

What　do　you　suppose　are　the　sentiments　entertained　by　the　Thompsons

with　a　p　towards　those　who　address　them　in　writing　as　Thomson？



No。　　2。　　Think　the　lines　you　mention　are　by　far　the　best　I　ever

wrote；　hey？　　Well；　I　didn't　write　those　lines。　　What　is　more；　I　think

they　are　as　detestable　a　string　of　rhymes　as　I　could　wish　my　worst

enemy　had　written。　　A　very　pleasant　frame　of　mind　I　am　in　for　writing

a　letter；　after　reading　yours！



No。　　3。　　I　am　glad　to　hear　that　my　namesake；　whom　I　never　saw　and

never　expect　to　see；　has　cut　another　tooth；　but　why　write　four　pages

on　the　strength　of　that　domestic　occurrence？



No。　　4。　　You　wish　to　correct　an　error　in　my　Broomstick　poem；　do　you？

You　give　me　to　understand　that　Wilmington　is　not　in　Essex　County；　but

in　Middlesex。　　Very　well；　but　are　they　separated　by　running　water？

Because　if　they　are　not；　what　could　hinder　a　witch　from　crossing　the

line　that　separates　Wilmington　from　Andover；　I　should　like　to　know？

I　never　meant　to　imply　that　the　witches　made　no　excursions　beyond　the

district　which　was　more　especially　their　seat　of　operations。





As　I　come　towards　the　end　of　this　task　which　I　had　set　myself；　I

wish；　of　course；　that　I　could　have　performed　it　more　to　my　own

satisfaction　and　that　of　my　readers。　　This　is　a　feeling　which　almost

every　one　must　have　at　the　conclusion　of　any　work　he　has　undertaken。

A　common　and　very　simple　reason　for　this　disappointment　is　that　most

of　us　overrate　our　capacity。　　We　expect　more　of　ourselves　than　we

have　any　right　to；　in　virtue　of　our　endowments。　　The　figurative

descriptions　of　the　last　Grand　Assize　must　no　more　be　taken　literally

than　the　golden　crowns；　which　we　do　not　expect　or　want　to　wear　on　our

heads；　or　the　golden　harps；　which　we　do　not　want　or　expect　to　hold　in

our　hands。　　Is　it　not　too　true　that　many　religious　sectaries　think　of

the　last　tribunal　complacently；　as　the　scene　in　which　they　are　to

have　the　satisfaction　of　saying　to　the　believers　of　a　creed　different

from　their　own；　〃I　told　you　so〃？　　Are　not　oth