memories and portraits- 第17部分

admired　disorder　of　their　combination。　　A　talker　of　a　different　

calibre；　though　belonging　to　the　same　school；　is　Burly。　　Burly　is　a　

man　of　a　great　presence；　he　commands　a　larger　atmosphere；　gives　the　

impression　of　a　grosser　mass　of　character　than　most　men。　　It　has　

been　said　of　him　that　his　presence　could　be　felt　in　a　room　you　

entered　blindfold；　and　the　same；　I　think；　has　been　said　of　other　

powerful　constitutions　condemned　to　much　physical　inaction。　　There　

is　something　boisterous　and　piratic　in　Burly's　manner　of　talk　which　

suits　well　enough　with　this　impression。　　He　will　roar　you　down；　he　

will　bury　his　face　in　his　hands；　he　will　undergo　passions　of　revolt　

and　agony；　and　meanwhile　his　attitude　of　mind　is　really　both　

conciliatory　and　receptive；　and　after　Pistol　has　been　out　Pistol'd；　

and　the　welkin　rung　for　hours；　you　begin　to　perceive　a　certain　

subsidence　in　these　spring　torrents；　points　of　agreement　issue；　and　

you　end　arm…in…arm；　and　in　a　glow　of　mutual　admiration。　　The　outcry　

only　serves　to　make　your　final　union　the　more　unexpected　and　

precious。　　Throughout　there　has　been　perfect　sincerity；　perfect　

intelligence；　a　desire　to　hear　although　not　always　to　listen；　and　

an　unaffected　eagerness　to　meet　concessions。　　You　have；　with　Burly；　

none　of　the　dangers　that　attend　debate　with　Spring…Heel'd　Jack；　who　

may　at　any　moment　turn　his　powers　of　transmigration　on　yourself；　

create　for　you　a　view　you　never　held；　and　then　furiously　fall　on　

you　for　holding　it。　　These；　at　least；　are　my　two　favourites；　and　

both　are　loud；　copious；　intolerant　talkers。　　This　argues　that　I　

myself　am　in　the　same　category；　for　if　we　love　talking　at　all；　we　

love　a　bright；　fierce　adversary；　who　will　hold　his　ground；　foot　by　

foot；　in　much　our　own　manner；　sell　his　attention　dearly；　and　give　

us　our　full　measure　of　the　dust　and　exertion　of　battle。　　Both　these　

men　can　be　beat　from　a　position；　but　it　takes　six　hours　to　do　it；　a　

high　and　hard　adventure；　worth　attempting。　　With　both　you　can　pass　

days　in　an　enchanted　country　of　the　mind；　with　people；　scenery　and　

manners　of　its　own；　live　a　life　apart；　more　arduous；　active　and　

glowing　than　any　real　existence；　and　come　forth　again　when　the　talk　

is　over；　as　out　of　a　theatre　or　a　dream；　to　find　the　east　wind　

still　blowing　and　the　chimney…pots　of　the　old　battered　city　still　

around　you。　　Jack　has　the　far　finer　mind；　Burly　the　far　more　

honest；　Jack　gives　us　the　animated　poetry；　Burly　the　romantic　

prose；　of　similar　themes；　the　one　glances　high　like　a　meteor　and　

makes　a　light　in　darkness；　the　other；　with　many　changing　hues　of　

fire；　burns　at　the　sea…level；　like　a　conflagration；　but　both　have　

the　same　humour　and　artistic　interests；　the　same　unquenched　ardour　

in　pursuit；　the　same　gusts　of　talk　and　thunderclaps　of　

contradiction。



Cockshot　（5）　is　a　different　article；　but　vastly　entertaining；　and　

has　been　meat　and　drink　to　me　for　many　a　long　evening。　　His　manner　

is　dry；　brisk　and　pertinacious；　and　the　choice　of　words　not　much。　　

The　point　about　him　is　his　extraordinary　readiness　and　spirit。　　You　

can　propound　nothing　but　he　has　either　a　theory　about　it　ready…

made；　or　will　have　one　instantly　on　the　stocks；　and　proceed　to　lay　

its　timbers　and　launch　it　in　your　presence。　　〃Let　me　see；〃　he　will　

say。　　〃Give　me　a　moment。　　I　SHOULD　have　some　theory　for　that。〃　　A　

blither　spectacle　than　the　vigour　with　which　he　sets　about　the　

task；　it　were　hard　to　fancy。　　He　is　possessed　by　a　demoniac　energy；　

welding　the　elements　for　his　life；　and　bending　ideas；　as　an　athlete　

bends　a　horse…shoe；　with　a　visible　and　lively　effort。　　He　has；　in　

theorising；　a　compass；　an　art；　what　I　would　call　the　synthetic　

gusto；　something　of　a　Herbert　Spencer；　who　should　see　the　fun　of　

the　thing。　　You　are　not　bound；　and　no　more　is　he；　to　place　your　

faith　in　these　brand…new　opinions。　　But　some　of　them　are　right　

enough；　durable　even　for　life；　and　the　poorest　serve　for　a　cock　shy　

…　as　when　idle　people；　after　picnics；　float　a　bottle　on　a　pond　and　

have　an　hour's　diversion　ere　it　sinks。　　Whichever　they　are；　serious　

opinions　or　humours　of　the　moment；　he　still　defends　his　ventures　

with　indefatigable　wit　and　spirit；　hitting　savagely　himself；　but　

taking　punishment　like　a　man。　　He　knows　and　never　forgets　that　

people　talk；　first　of　all；　for　the　sake　of　talking；　conducts　

himself　in　the　ring；　to　use　the　old　slang；　like　a　thorough　

〃glutton；〃　and　honestly　enjoys　a　telling　facer　from　his　adversary。　　

Cockshot　is　bottled　effervescency；　the　sworn　foe　of　sleep。　　Three…

in…the…morning　Cockshot；　says　a　victim。　　His　talk　is　like　the　

driest　of　all　imaginable　dry　champagnes。　　Sleight　of　hand　and　

inimitable　quickness　are　the　qualities　by　which　he　lives。　　

Athelred；　on　the　other　hand；　presents　you　with　the　spectacle　of　a　

sincere　and　somewhat　slow　nature　thinking　aloud。　　He　is　the　most　

unready　man　I　ever　knew　to　shine　in　conversation。　　You　may　see　him　

sometimes　wrestle　with　a　refractory　jest　for　a　minute　or　two　

together；　and　perhaps　fail　to　throw　it　in　the　end。　　And　there　is　

something　singularly　engaging；　often　instructive；　in　the　simplicity　

with　which　he　thus　exposes　the　process　as　well　as　the　result；　the　

works　as　well　as　the　dial　of　the　clock。　　Withal　he　has　his　hours　of　

inspiration。　　Apt　words　come　to　him　as　if　by　accident；　and；　coming　

from　deeper　down；　they　smack　the　more　personally；　they　have　the　

more　of　fine　old　crusted　humanity；　rich　in　sediment　and　humour。　　

There　are　sayings　of　his　in　which　he　has　stamped　himself　into　the　

very　grain　of　the　language；　you　would　think　he　must　have　worn　the　

words　next　his　skin　and　slept　with　them。　　Yet　it　is　not　as　a　sayer　

of　particular　good　things　that　Athelred　is　most　to　he　regarded；　

rather　as　the　stalwart　woodman　of　thought。　　I　have　pulled　on　a　

light　cord　often　enough；　while　he　has　been　wielding　the　broad…axe；　

and　between　us；　on　this　unequal　division；　many　a　specious　fallacy　

has　fallen。　　I　have　known　him　to　battle　the　same　question　night　

after　night　for　years；　keeping　it　in　the　reign　of　talk；　constantly　

applying　it　and　re…applying　it　to　life　with　humorous　or　grave　

intention；　and　all　the　while；　never　hurrying；　nor　flagging；　nor　

taking　an　unfair　advantage　of　the　facts。　　Jack　at　a　given　moment；　

when　arising；　as　it　were；　from　the　tripod；　can　be　more　radiantly　

just　to　those　from　whom　he　differs；　but　then　the　tenor　of　his　

thoughts　is　even　calumnious；　while　Athelred；　slower　to　forge　

excuses；　is　yet　slower　to　condemn；　and　sits　over　the　welter　of　the　

world；　vacillating　but　still　judicial；　and　still　faithfully　

contending　with　his　doubts。



Both　the　last　talkers　deal　much　in　points　of　conduct　and　religion　

studied　in　the　〃dry　light〃　of　prose。　　Indirectly　and　as　if　against　

his　will　the　same　elements　from　time　to　time　appear　in　the　troubled　

and　poetic　talk　of　Opalstein。　　His　various　and　exotic　knowledge；　

complete　although　unready　sympathies；　and　fine；　full；　

discriminative　flow　of　language；　fit　him　out　to　be　the　best　of　

talkers；　so　perhaps　he　is　with　some；　not　quite　with　me　…　PROXIME　

ACCESSIT；　I　should　say。　　He　sings　the　praises　of　the　earth　and　the　

arts；　flowers　and　jewels；　wine　and　music；　in　a　moonlight；　

serenading　manner；　as　to　the　light　guitar；　even　wisdom　comes　from　

his　tongue　like　singing；　no　one　is；　indeed；　more　tuneful　in　the　

upper　notes。　　But　even　while　he　sings　the　song　of　the　Sirens；　he　

still　hearkens　to　the　barking　of　the　Sphinx。　　Jarring　Byronic　notes　

interrupt　the　flow　of　his　Horatian　humours。　　His　mirth　has　

something　of　the　tragedy　of　the　world　for　its　perpetual　background；　

and　he　feasts　like　Don　Giovanni　to　a　double　orchestra；　one　lightly　

sounding　for　the　dance；　one　pealing　Beethoven　in　the　distance。　　He　

is　not　truly　reconciled　either　with　life　or　with　himself；　and　this　

instant　war　in　his　members　sometimes　divides　the　man's　attention。　　

He　does　not　always；　perhaps　not　often；　frankly　surrender　himself　in　

conversation。　　He　brings　into　the　talk　other　thoughts　than　those　

which　he　expresses；　you　are　conscious　that　he　keeps　an　eye　on　

something　else；　that　he　does　not　shake　off　the　world；　nor　quite　

forget　himself。　　Hence　arise　occasional　disappointments；　even　an　

occasional　unfairness　for　his　companions；　who　find　themselves　one　

day　giving　too　much；　and　the　next；　when　they　are　wary　out　of　

season；　giving　perhaps　too　little。　　Purcel　is　in　another　class　from　

any　I　have　mentioned。　　He　is　no　debater；　but　appears　in　

conversation；　as　occasion　rises；　in　two　distinct　characters；　one　of　

which　I　admire　and　fear；　and　the　other　love。　　In　the　first；　he　is　

radiantly　civil　and　rather　silent；　sits　on　a　high；　courtly　hilltop；　

and　from　that　vantage…ground　drops　you　his　remarks　like　favours。　　

He　seems　not　to　share　in　our　sublunary　contentions；　he　wears　no　

sign　of　interest；　when　on　a　sudden　there　falls　in　a　crystal　of　wit；　

so　polished　that　the　dull　do　not　perceive　it；　but　so　right　that　the　

sensitive　are　silenced。　　True　talk　should　have　more　body　and　blood；　

should　be　louder；　vainer　and　more　declaratory　of　the　man；　the　true　

talker　should　not　hold　so　steady　an　advantage　over　whom　he　speaks　

with；　and　that　is　one　reason　out　of　a　score　why　I　prefer　my　Purcel　

in　his　second　character；　when　he　unbends　into　a　strain　of　graceful　

gossip；　singing　like　the　fireside　kettle。　　In　these　moods　he　has　an　

elegant　homeliness　that　rings　of　the　true　Queen　Anne。　　I　know　

another　person　who　attains；　in　his　moments；　to　the　insolence　of　a　

Restoration　comedy；　speaking；　I　declare；　as　Congreve　wrote；　but　

that　is　a　sport　of　nature；　and　scarce　falls　under　the　rubric；　for　

there　is　none；　alas！　to　give　him　answer。



One　last　remark　occurs：　It　is　the　mark　of　genuine　conversation　that　

the　sayings　can　scarce　be　quoted　with　their　full　effect　beyond　the　

circle　of　common　friends。　　To　have　their　proper　weight　they　should　

appear　in　a　biography；　and　with　the　portrait　of　the　speak