the poet at the breakfast table-第69章

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I　should　like　to　carry　some　of　my　friends　to　see　a　giant　bee…hive　I
have　discovered。　　Its　hum　can　be　heard　half　a　mile；　and　the　great
white　swarm　counts　its　tens　of　thousands。　　They　pretend　to　call　it　a
planing…mill；　but　if　it　is　not　a　bee…hive　it　is　so　like　one　that　if　a
hundred　people　have　not　said　so　before　me；　it　is　very　singular　that
they　have　not。　　If　I　wrote　verses　I　would　try　to　bring　it　in；　and　I
suppose　people　would　start　up　in　a　dozen　places；　and　say；　〃Oh；　that
bee…hive　simile　is　mine；and　besides；　did　not　Mr。　Bayard　Taylor　call
the　snowflakes　'white　bees'？〃

I　think　the　old　Master　had　chosen　these　trivialities　on　purpose　to
amuse　the　Young　Astronomer　and　myself；　if　possible；　and　so　make　sure
of　our　keeping　awake　while　he　went　on　reading；　as　follows：

How　the　sweet　souls　of　all　time　strike　the　same　note；　the　same
because　it　is　in　unison　with　the　divine　voice　that　sings　to　them！　　I
read　in　the　Zend　Avesta；　〃No　earthly　man　with　a　hundred…fold　strength
speaks　so　much　evil　as　Mithra　with　heavenly　strength　speaks　good。　　No
earthly　man　with　a　hundred…fold　strength　does　so　much　evil　as　Mithra
with　heavenly　strength　does　good。〃

And　now　leave　Persia　and　Zoroaster；　and　come　down　with　me　to　our　own
New　England　and　one　of　our　old　Puritan　preachers。　　It　was　in　the
dreadful　days　of　the　Salem　Witchcraft　delusion　that　one　Jonathan
Singletary；　being　then　in　the　prison　at　Ipswich；　gave　his　testimony
as　to　certain　fearful　occurrences；a　great　noise；　as　of　many　cats
climbing；　skipping；　and　jumping；　of　throwing　about　of　furniture；　and
of　men　walking　in　the　chambers；　with　crackling　and　shaking　as　if　the
house　would　fall　upon　him。

〃I　was　at　present；〃　he　says；　〃something　affrighted；　yet　considering
what　I　had　lately　heard　made　out　by　Mr。　Mitchel　at　Cambridge；　that
there　is　more　good　in　God　than　there　is　evil　in　sin；　and　that
although　God　is　the　greatest　good　and　sin　the　greatest　evil；　yet　the
first　Being　of　evil　cannot　weave　the　scales　or　overpower　the　first
Being　of　good：　so　considering　that　the　authour　of　good　was　of　greater
power　than　the　authour　of　evil；　God　was　pleased　of　his　goodness　to
keep　me　from　being　out　of　measure　frighted。〃

I　shall　always　bless　the　memory　of　this　poor；　timid　creature　for
saving　that　dear　remembrance　of　〃Matchless　Mitchel。〃　　How　many；　like
him；　have　thought　they　were　preaching　a　new　gospel；　when　they　were
only　reaffirming　the　principles　which　underlie　the　Magna　Charta　of
humanity；　and　are　common　to　the　noblest　utterances　of　all　the　nobler
creeds！　　But　spoken　by　those　solemn　lips　to　those　stern；　simpleminded
hearers；　the　words　I　have　cited　seem　to　me　to　have　a　fragrance　like
the　precious　ointment　of　spikenard　with　which　Mary　anointed　her
Master's　feet。　　I　can　see　the　little　bare　meeting…house；　with　the
godly　deacons；　and　the　grave　matrons；　and　the　comely　maidens；　and　the
sober　manhood　of　the　village；　with　the　small　group　of　college
students　sitting　by　themselves　under　the　shadow　of　the　awful
Presidential　Presence；　all　listening　to　that　preaching；　which　was；　as
Cotton　Mather　says；　〃as　a　very　lovely　song　of　one　that　hath　a
pleasant　voice〃；　and　as　the　holy　pastor　utters　those　blessed　words；
which　are　not　of　any　one　church　or　age；　but　of　all　time；　the　humble
place　of　worship　is　filled　with　their　perfume；　as　the　house　where
Mary　knelt　was　filled　with　the　odor　of　the　precious　ointment。

The　Master　rose；　as　he　finished　reading　this　sentence；　and；　walking
to　the　window；　adjusted　a　curtain　which　he　seemed　to　find　a　good　deal
of　trouble　in　getting　to　hang　just　as　he　wanted　it。

He　came　back　to　his　arm…chair；　and　began　reading　again

If　men　would　only　open　their　eyes　to　the　fact　which　stares　them　in
the　face　from　history；　and　is　made　clear　enough　by　the　slightest
glance　at　the　condition　of　mankind；　that　humanity　is　of　immeasurably
greater　importance　than　their　own　or　any　other　particular　belief；
they　would　no　more　attempt　to　make　private　property　of　the　grace　of
God　than　to　fence　in　the　sunshine　for　their　own　special　use　and
enjoyment。

We　are　all　tattoed　in　our　cradles　with　the　beliefs　of　our　tribe；　the
record　may　seem　superficial；　but　it　is　indelible。　　You　cannot　educate
a　man　wholly　out　of　the　superstitious　fears　which　were　early
implanted　in　his　imagination；　no　matter　how　utterly　his　reason　may
reject　them；　he　will　still　feel　as　the　famous　woman　did　about　ghosts；
Je　n'y　crois　pas；　mais　je　les　crains；〃I　don't　believe　in　them；　but
I　am　afraid　of　them；　nevertheless。〃

As　people　grow　older　they　come　at　length　to　live　so　much　in　memory
that　they　often　think　with　a　kind　of　pleasure　of　losing　their　dearest
blessings。　　Nothing　can　be　so　perfect　while　we　possess　it　as　it　will
seem　when　remembered。　　The　friend　we　love　best　may　sometimes　weary　us
by　his　presence　or　vex　us　by　his　infirmities。　　How　sweet　to　think　of
him　as　he　will　be　to　us　after　we　have　outlived　him　ten　or　a　dozen
years！　　Then　we　can　recall　him　in　his　best　moments；　bid　him　stay　with
us　as　long　as　we　want　his　company；　and　send　him　away　when　we　wish　to
be　alone　again。　　One　might　alter　Shenstone's　well…known　epitaph　to
suit　such　a　case：

　　　　　Hen！　　quanto　minus　est　cum　to　vivo　versari

　　　　　Quam　erit　（vel　esset）　tui　mortui　reminisse！

　　　　〃Alas！　　how　much　less　the　delight　of　thy　living　presence
　　　　　Than　will　（or　would）　be　that　of　remembering　thee　when　thou　hast
　　　　　left　us！〃

I　want　to　stop　hereI　the　Poetand　put　in　a　few　reflections　of　my
own；　suggested　by　what　I　have　been　giving　the　reader　from　the
Master's　Book；　and　in　a　similar　vein。

How　few　things　there　are　that　do　not　change　their　whole　aspect　in
the　course　of　a　single　generation！　　The　landscape　around　us　is　wholly
different。　　Even　the　outlines　of　the　hills　that　surround　us　are
changed　by　the　creeping　of　the　villages　with　their　spires　and　school…
houses　up　their　sides。　　The　sky　remains　the　same；　and　the　ocean。　　A
few　old　churchyards　look　very　much　as　they　used　to；　except；　of
course；　in　Boston；　where　the　gravestones　have　been　rooted　up　and
planted　in　rows　with　walks　between　them；　to　the　utter　disgrace　and
ruin　of　our　most　venerated　cemeteries。　　The　Registry　df　Deeds　and　the
Probate　Office　show　us　the　same　old　folios；　where　we　can　read　our
grandfather's　title　to　his　estate　（if　we　had　a　grandfather　and　he
happened　to　own　anything）　and　see　how　many　pots　and　kettles　there
were　in　his　kitchen　by　the　inventory　of　his　personal　property。

Among　living　people　none　remain　so　long　unchanged　as　the　actors。　　I
can　see　the　same　Othello　to…day；　if　I　choose；　that　when　I　was　a　boy　I
saw　smothering　Mrs。　Duff…Desdemona　with　the　pillow；　under　the
instigations　of　Mr。　Cooper…Iago。　　A　few　stone　heavier　than　he　was
then；　no　doubt；　but　the　same　truculent　blackamoor　that　took　by　the
thr…r…r…oat　the　circumcised　dog　in　Aleppo；　and　told　us　about　it　in
the　old　Boston　Theatre。　　In　the　course　of　a　fortnight；　if　I　care　to
cross　the　water；　I　can　see　Mademoiselle　Dejazet　in　the　same　parts　I
saw　her　in　under　Louis　Philippe；　and　be　charmed　by　the　same　grace　and
vivacity　which　delighted　my　grandmother　（if　she　was　in　Paris；　and
went　to　see　her　in　the　part　of　Fanchon　toute　seule　at　the　Theatre　des
Capucines）　in　the　days　when　the　great　Napoleon　was　still　only　First
Consul。

The　graveyard　and　the　stage　are　pretty　much　the　only　places　where　you
can　expect　to　find　your　friendsas　you　left　them；　five　and　twenty　or
fifty　years　ago。　　I　have　noticed；　I　may　add；　that　old　theatre…goers
bring　back　the　past　with　their　stories　more　vividly　than　men　with　any
other　experiences。　　There　were　two　old　New…Yorkers　that　I　used　to
love　to　sit　talking　with　about　the　stage。　　One　was　a　scholar　and　a
writer　of　note；　a　pleasant　old　gentleman；　with　the　fresh　cheek　of　an
octogenarian　Cupid。　　The　other　not　less　noted　in　his　way；　deep　in
local　lore；　large…brained；　full…blooded；　of　somewhat　perturbing　and
tumultuous　presence。　　It　was　good　to　hear　them　talk　of　George
Frederic　Cooke；　of　Kean；　and　the　lesser　stars　of　those　earlier
constellations。　　Better　still　to　breakfast　with　old　Samuel　Rogers；　as
some　of　my　readers　have　done　more　than　once；　and　hear　him　answer　to
the　question　who　was　the　best　actor　he　remembered；　〃I　think；　on　the
whole；　Garrick。