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a mortal antipathy-第17章

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to that of threescore and ten。  The face might be an uninteresting

one; still; as sharing the inevitable changes wrought by time; it

would be worth looking at as it passed through the curve of life;

the vital parabola; which betrays itself in the symbolic changes of

the features。  An inscription is the same thing; whether we read it

on slate…stone; or granite; or marble。  To watch the lights and

shades; the reliefs and hollows; of a countenance through a lifetime;

or a large part of it; by the aid of a continuous series of

photographs would not only be curious; it would teach us much more

about the laws of physiognomy than we could get from casual and

unconnected observations。



The same kind of interest; without any assumption of merit to be

found in them; I would claim for a series of annual poems; beginning

in middle life and continued to what many of my correspondents are

pleased to remind meas if I required to have the fact brought to my

knowledgeis no longer youth。  Here is the latest of a series of

annual poems read during the last thirty…four years。  There seems to

have been one interruption; but there may have been other poems not

recorded or remembered。  This; the latest poem of the series; was

listened to by the scanty remnant of what was a large and brilliant

circle of classmates and friends when the first of the long series

was read before them; then in the flush of ardent manhood:





     THE OLD SONG。



The minstrel of the classic lay

Of love and wine who sings

Still found the fingers run astray

That touched the rebel strings。



Of Cadmus he would fair have sung;

Of Atreus and his line;

But all the jocund echoes rung

With songs of love and wine。



Ah; brothers!  I would fair have caught

Some fresher fancy's gleam;

My truant accents find; unsought;

The old familiar theme。



Love; Love! but not the sportive child

With shaft and twanging bow;

Whose random arrows drove us wild

Some threescore years ago;



Not Eros; with his joyous laugh;

The urchin blind and bare;

But Love; with spectacles and staff;

And scanty; silvered hair。



Our heads with frosted locks are white;

Our roofs are thatched with snow;

But red; in chilling winter's spite;

Our hearts and hearthstones glow。



Our old acquaintance; Time; drops in;

And while the running sands

Their golden thread unheeded spin;

He warms his frozen hands。



Stay; winged hours; too swift; too sweet;

And waft this message o'er

To all we miss; from all we meet

On life's fast…crumbling shore:



Say that to old affection true

We hug the narrowing chain

That binds our hearts;alas; how few

The links that yet remain!



The fatal touch awaits them all

That turns the rocks to dust;

》From year to year they break and fall;

They break; but never rust。



Say if one note of happier strain

This worn…out harp afford;

One throb that trembles; not in vain;

Their memory lent its chord。



Say that when Fancy closed her wings

And Passion quenched his fire;

Love; Love; still echoed from the strings

As from Anacreon's lyre!



January 8; 1885。









VII



A RECORD OF ANTIPATHIES



In thinking the whole matter over; Dr。 Butts felt convinced that;

with care and patience and watching his opportunity; he should get at

the secret; which so far bad yielded nothing but a single word。  It

might be asked why he was so anxious to learn what; from all

appearances; the young stranger was unwilling to explain。  He may

have been to some extent infected by the general curiosity of the

persons around him; in which good Mrs。 Butts shared; and which she

had helped to intensify by revealing the word dropped by Paolo。  But

this was not really his chief motive。  He could not look upon this

young man; living a life of unwholesome solitude; without a natural

desire to do all that his science and his knowledge of human nature

could help him to do towards bringing him into healthy relations with

the world about him。  Still; he would not intrude upon him in any

way。  He would only make certain general investigations; which might

prove serviceable in case circumstances should give him the right to

counsel the young man as to his course of life。  The first thing to

be done was to study systematically the whole subject of antipathies。

Then; if any further occasion offered itself; he would be ready to

take advantage of it。  The resources of the Public Library of the

place and his own private collection were put in requisition to

furnish him the singular and widely scattered facts of which he was

in search。



It is not every reader who will care to follow Dr。 Butts in his study

of the natural history of antipathies。  The stories told about them

are; however; very curious; and if some of them may be questioned;

there is no doubt that many of the strangest are true; and

consequently take away from the improbability of others which we are

disposed to doubt。



But in the first place; what do we mean by an antipathy?  It is an

aversion to some object; which may vary in degree from mere dislike

to mortal horror。  What the cause of this aversion is we cannot say。

It acts sometimes through the senses; sometimes through the

imagination; sometimes through an unknown channel。  The relations

which exist between the human being and all that surrounds him vary

in consequence of some adjustment peculiar to each individual。  The

brute fact is expressed in the phrase 〃One man's meat is another

man's poison。〃



In studying the history of antipathies the doctor began with those

referable to the sense of taste; which are among the most common。  In

any collection of a hundred persons there will be found those who

cannot make use of certain articles of food generally acceptable。

This may be from the disgust they occasion or the effects they have

been found to produce。  Every one knows individuals who cannot

venture on honey; or cheese; or veal; with impunity。  Carlyle; for

example; complains of having veal set before him;a meat he could

not endure。  There is a whole family connection in New England; and

that a very famous one; to many of whose members; in different

generations; all the products of the dairy are the subjects of a

congenital antipathy。  Montaigne says there are persons who dread the

smell of apples more than they would dread being exposed to a fire of

musketry。  The readers of the charming story 〃A Week in a French

Country…House〃 will remember poor Monsieur Jacque's piteous cry in

the night: 〃Ursula; art thou asleep?  Oh; Ursula; thou sleepest; but

I cannot close my eyes。  Dearest Ursula; there is such a dreadful

smell!  Oh; Ursula; it is such a smell!  I do so wish thou couldst

smell it!  Good…night; my angel!Dearest!  I have found them!

They are apples!  〃The smell of roses; of peonies; of lilies; has

been known to cause faintness。  The sight of various objects has had

singular effects on some persons。  A boar's head was a favorite dish

at the table of great people in Marshal d'Albret's time; yet he used

to faint at the sight of one。  It is not uncommon to meet with

persons who faint at the sight of blood。  One of the most

inveterately pugnacious of Dr。 Butts's college…mates confessed that

he had this infirmity。  Stranger and far more awkward than this is

the case mentioned in an ancient collection; where the subject of the

antipathy fainted at the sight of any object of a red color。  There

are sounds; also; which have strange effects on some individuals。

Among the obnoxious noises are the crumpling of silk stuffs; the

sound of sweeping; the croaking of frogs。  The effects in different

cases have been spasms; a sense of strangling; profuse sweating;all

showing a profound disturbance of the nervous system。



All these effects were produced by impressions on the organs of

sense; seemingly by direct agency on certain nerve centres。  But

there is another series of cases in which the imagination plays a

larger part in the phenomena。  Two notable examples are afforded in

the lives of two very distinguished personages。



Peter the Great was frightened; when an infant; by falling from a

bridge into the water。  Long afterward; when he had reached manhood;

this hardy and resolute man was so affected by the sound of wheels

rattling over a bridge that he had to discipline himself by listening

to the sound; in spite of his dread of it; in order to overcome his

antipathy。  The story told by Abbe Boileau of Pascal is very similar

to that related of Peter。  As he was driving in his coach and four

over the bridge at Neuilly; his horses took fright and ran away; and

the leaders broke from their harness and sprang into the river;

leaving the wheel…horses and the carriage on the bridge。  Ever after

this fright it is said that Pascal had the terrifying sense that he

was just on the edge of an abyss; ready to fall over。



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