the way of all flesh-第87部分

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will；　this　had　long　been　understood；　so　that　the　other　two　are　both
well　provided　for。

Charlotte　is　as　clever　as　ever；　and　sometimes　asks　Ernest　to　come
and　stay　with　her　and　her　husband　near　Dover；　I　suppose　because　she
knows　that　the　invitation　will　not　be　agreeable　to　him。　　There　is　a
de　haut　en　bas　tone　in　all　her　letters；　it　is　rather　hard　to　lay
one's　finger　upon　it　but　Ernest　never　gets　a　letter　from　her　without
feeling　that　he　is　being　written　to　by　one　who　has　had　direct
communication　with　an　angel。　　〃What　an　awful　creature；〃　he　once　said
to　me；　〃that　angel　must　have　been　if　it　had　anything　to　do　with
making　Charlotte　what　she　is。〃

〃Could　you　like；〃　she　wrote　to　him　not　long　ago；　〃the　thoughts　of　a
little　sea　change　here？　　The　top　of　the　cliffs　will　soon　be　bright
with　heather：　　the　gorse　must　be　out　already；　and　the　heather　I
should　think　begun；　to　judge　by　the　state　of　the　hill　at　Ewell；　and
heather　or　no　heatherthe　cliffs　are　always　beautiful；　and　if　you
come　your　room　shall　be　cosy　so　that　you　may　have　a　resting　corner
to　yourself。　　Nineteen　and　sixpence　is　the　price　of　a　return…ticket
which　covers　a　month。　　Would　you　decide　just　as　you　would　yourself
like；　only　if　you　come　we　would　hope　to　try　and　make　it　bright　for
you；　but　you　must　not　feel　it　a　burden　on　your　mind　if　you　feel
disinclined　to　come　in　this　direction。〃

〃When　I　have　a　bad　nightmare；〃　said　Ernest　to　me；　laughing　as　he
showed　me　this　letter；　〃I　dream　that　I　have　got　to　stay　with
Charlotte。〃

Her　letters　are　supposed　to　be　unusually　well　written；　and　I　believe
it　is　said　among　the　family　that　Charlotte　has　far　more　real
literary　power　than　Ernest　has。　　Sometimes　we　think　that　she　is
writing　at　him　as　much　as　to　say；　〃There　nowdon't　you　think　you
are　the　only　one　of　us　who　can　write；　read　this！　　And　if　you　want　a
telling　bit　of　descriptive　writing　for　your　next　book；　you　can　make
what　use　of　it　you　like。〃　　I　daresay　she　writes　very　well；　but　she
has　fallen　under　the　dominion　of　the　words　〃hope；〃　〃think；〃　〃feel；〃
〃try；〃　〃bright；〃　and　〃little；〃　and　can　hardly　write　a　page　without
introducing　all　these　words　and　some　of　them　more　than　once。　　All
this　has　the　effect　of　making　her　style　monotonous。

Ernest　is　as　fond　of　music　as　ever；　perhaps　more　so；　and　of　late
years　has　added　musical　composition　to　the　other　irons　in　his　fire。
He　finds　it　still　a　little　difficult；　and　is　in　constant　trouble
through　getting　into　the　key　of　C　sharp　after　beginning　in　the　key
of　C　and　being　unable　to　get　back　again。

〃Getting　into　the　key　of　C　sharp；〃　he　said；　〃is　like　an　unprotected
female　travelling　on　the　Metropolitan　Railway；　and　finding　herself
at　Shepherd's　Bush；　without　quite　knowing　where　she　wants　to　go　to。
How　is　she　ever　to　get　safe　back　to　Clapham　Junction？　　And　Clapham
Junction　won't　quite　do　either；　for　Clapham　Junction　is　like　the
diminished　seventhsusceptible　of　such　enharmonic　change；　that　you
can　resolve　it　into　all　the　possible　termini　of　music。〃

Talking　of　music　reminds　me　of　a　little　passage　that　took　place
between　Ernest　and　Miss　Skinner；　Dr　Skinner's　eldest　daughter；　not
so　very　long　ago。　　Dr　Skinner　had　long　left　Roughborough；　and　had
become　Dean　of　a　Cathedral　in　one　of　our　Midland　countiesa
position　which　exactly　suited　him。　　Finding　himself　once　in　the
neighbourhood　Ernest　called；　for　old　acquaintance　sake；　and　was
hospitably　entertained　at　lunch。

Thirty　years　had　whitened　the　Doctor's　bushy　eyebrowshis　hair　they
could　not　whiten。　　I　believe　that　but　for　that　wig　he　would　have
been　made　a　bishop。

His　voice　and　manner　were　unchanged；　and　when　Ernest　remarking　upon
a　plan　of　Rome　which　hung　in　the　hall；　spoke　inadvertently　of　the
Quirinal；　he　replied　with　all　his　wonted　pomp：　　〃Yes；　the　QuirInal
or　as　I　myself　prefer　to　call　it；　the　QuirInal。〃　　After　this　triumph
he　inhaled　a　long　breath　through　the　corners　of　his　mouth；　and　flung
it　back　again　into　the　face　of　Heaven；　as　in　his　finest　form　during
his　head…mastership。　　At　lunch　he　did　indeed　once　say；　〃next　to
impossible　to　think　of　anything　else；〃　but　he　immediately　corrected
himself　and　substituted　the　words；　〃next　to　impossible　to　entertain
irrelevant　ideas；〃　after　which　he　seemed　to　feel　a　good　deal　more
comfortable。　　Ernest　saw　the　familiar　volumes　of　Dr　Skinner's　works
upon　the　book…shelves　in　the　Deanery　dining…room；　but　he　saw　no　copy
of　〃Rome　or　the　BibleWhich？〃

〃And　are　you　still　as　fond　of　music　as　ever；　Mr　Pontifex？〃　said　Miss
Skinner　to　Ernest　during　the　course　of　lunch。

〃Of　some　kinds　of　music；　yes；　Miss　Skinner；　but　you　know　I　never　did
like　modern　music。〃

〃Isn't　that　rather　dreadful？Don't　you　think　you　rather〃she　was
going　to　have　added；　〃ought　to？〃　but　she　left　it　unsaid；　feeling
doubtless　that　she　had　sufficiently　conveyed　her　meaning。

〃I　would　like　modern　music；　if　I　could；　I　have　been　trying　all　my
life　to　like　it；　but　I　succeed　less　and　less　the　older　I　grow。〃

〃And　pray；　where　do　you　consider　modern　music　to　begin？〃

〃With　Sebastian　Bach。〃

〃And　don't　you　like　Beethoven？〃

〃No；　I　used　to　think　I　did；　when　I　was　younger；　but　I　know　now　that
I　never　really　liked　him。〃

〃Ah！　how　can　you　say　so？　　You　cannot　understand　him；　you　never　could
say　this　if　you　understood　him。　　For　me　a　simple　chord　of　Beethoven
is　enough。　　This　is　happiness。〃

Ernest　was　amused　at　her　strong　family　likeness　to　her　fathera
likeness　which　had　grown　upon　her　as　she　had　become　older；　and　which
extended　even　to　voice　and　manner　of　speaking。　　He　remembered　how　he
had　heard　me　describe　the　game　of　chess　I　had　played　with　the　doctor
in　days　gone　by；　and　with　his　mind's　ear　seemed　to　hear　Miss　Skinner
saying；　as　though　it　were　an　epitaph：…


〃Stay：
I　may　presently　take
A　simple　chord　of　Beethoven；
Or　a　small　semiquaver
From　one　of　Mendelssohn's　Songs　without　Words。〃


After　luncheon　when　Ernest　was　left　alone　for　half　an　hour　or　so
with　the　Dean　he　plied　him　so　well　with　compliments　that　the　old
gentleman　was　pleased　and　flattered　beyond　his　wont。　　He　rose　and
bowed。　　〃These　expressions；〃　he　said；　voce　sua；　〃are　very　valuable
to　me。〃　　〃They　are　but　a　small　part；　Sir；〃　rejoined　Ernest；　〃of　what
anyone　of　your　old　pupils　must　feel　towards　you；〃　and　the　pair
danced　as　it　were　a　minuet　at　the　end　of　the　dining…room　table　in
front　of　the　old　bay　window　that　looked　upon　the　smooth　shaven　lawn。
On　this　Ernest　departed；　but　a　few　days　afterwards；　the　Doctor　wrote
him　a　letter　and　told　him　that　his　critics　were　a　＇Greek　text＇；　and
at　the　same　time　＇Greek　text＇。　　Ernest　remembered　＇Greek　text＇；　and
knew　that　the　other　words　were　something　of　like　nature；　so　it　was
all　right。　　A　month　or　two　afterwards；　Dr　Skinner　was　gathered　to
his　fathers。

〃He　was　an　old　fool；　Ernest；〃　said　I；　〃and　you　should　not　relent
towards　him。〃

〃I　could　not　help　it；〃　he　replied；　〃he　was　so　old　that　it　was　almost
like　playing　with　a　child。〃

Sometimes；　like　all　whose　minds　are　active；　Ernest　overworks
himself；　and　then　occasionally　he　has　fierce　and　reproachful
encounters　with　Dr　Skinner　or　Theobald　in　his　sleepbut　beyond　this
neither　of　these　two　worthies　can　now　molest　him　further。

To　myself　he　has　been　a　son　and　more　than　a　son；　at　times　I　am　half
afraidas　for　example　when　I　talk　to　him　about　his　booksthat　I
may　have　been　to　him　more　like　a　father　than　I　ought；　if　I　have；　I
trust　he　has　forgiven　me。　　His　books　are　the　only　bone　of　contention
between　us。　　I　want　him　to　write　like　other　people；　and　not　to
offend　so　many　of　his　readers；　he　says　he　can　no　more　change　his
manner　of　writing　than　the　colour　of　his　hair；　and　that　he　must
write　as　he　does　or　not　at　all。

With　the　public　generally　he　is　not　a　favourite。　　He　is　admitted　to
have　talent；　but　it　is　considered　generally　to　be　of　a　queer
unpractical　kind；　and　no　matter　how　serious　he　is；　he　is　always
accused　of　being　in　jest。　　His　first　book　was　a　success　for　reasons
which　I　have　already　explained；　but　none　of　his　others　have　been
more　than　creditable　failures。　　He　is　one　of　those　unfortunate　men；
each　one　of　whose　books　is　sneered　at　by　literary　critics　as　soon　as
it　comes　out；　but　becomes　〃excellent　reading〃　as　soon　as　it　has　been
followed　by　a　later　work　which　may　in　its　turn　be　condemned。

He　never　asked　a　reviewer　to　dinner　in　his　life。　　I　have　told　him
over　and　over　again　that　this　is　madness；　and　find　that　this　is　the
only　thing　I　can　say　to　him　which　makes　him　angry　with　me。

〃What　can　it　matter　to　me；〃　he　says；　〃whether　people　read　my　books
or　not？　　It　may　matter　to　thembut　I　have　too　much　money　to　want
more；　and　if　the　books　have　any　stuff　in　them　it　will　work　by…and…
by。　　I　do　not　know　nor　greatly　care　whether　they　are　good　or　not。
What　opinion　can　any　sane　man　form　about　his　own　work？　　Some　people
must　write　stupid　books　just　as　there　must　be　junior　ops　and　third
class　poll　men。　　Why　should　I　complain　of　being　among　the
mediocrities？　　If　a　man　is　not　absolutely　below　mediocrity　let　him
be　thankfulbesides；　the　books　will　have　to　stand　by　themselves
some　day；　so　the　sooner　they　begin　the　better。〃

I　spoke　to　his　publisher　about　him　not　long　since。　　〃Mr　Pontifex；〃
he　said；　〃is　a　homo　unius　libri；　but　it　doesn't　do　to　tell　him　so。〃

I　could　see　the　publisher；　who　ought　to　know；　had　lost　all　faith　in
Ernest's　literary　position；　and　looked　upon　him　as　a　man　whose
failure　was　all　the　more　hopeless　for　the　fact　of　his　having　once
made　a　coup。　　〃He　is　in　a　very　solitary　position；　Mr　Overton；〃
continued　the　publisher。　　〃He　has　formed　no　alliances；　and　has　made
enemies　not　only　of　the　religious　world　but　of　the　literary　and
scientific　brotherhood　as　well。　　This　will　not　do　nowadays。　　If　a
man　wishes　to　get　on　he　must　belong　to　a　set；　and　Mr　Pontifex
belongs　to　no　setnot　even　to　a　club。〃

I　replied；　〃Mr　Pontifex　is　the　exact　likeness　of　Othello；　but　with　a
differencehe　hates　not　wisely　but　too　well。　　He　would　dislike　the
literary　and　scientific　swells　if　he　were　to　come　to　know　them　and
they　him；　there　is　no　natural　solidarity　between　him　and　them；　and
if　he　were　brought　into　contact　with　them　his　last　state　would　be
worse　than　his　first。　　His　instinct　tells　him　this；　so　he　keeps
clear　of　them；　and　at