第4章
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  ItisalittledifficulttoexplainwhyIdidnotcometodowhatwasthenaturalthingforanyoneinmycircumstancestodo,andtakemyworldforgranted。Acertaininnatescepticism,Ithink,explainsitandacertaininaptitudeforsympatheticassimilation。Myfather,Ibelieve,wasasceptic;mymotherwascertainlyahardwoman。

  Iwasanonlychild,andtothisdayIdonotknowwhethermyfatherislivingordead。Hefledmymother’svirtuesbeforemydistinctermemoriesbegan。Heleftnotracesinhisflight,andshe,inherindignation,destroyedeveryvestigethatshecouldofhim。NeveraphotographnorascrapofhishandwritinghaveI

  seen;anditwas,Iknow,onlytheacceptedcodeofvirtueanddiscretionthatpreventedherdestroyinghermarriagecertificateandme,andsomakingacleansweepofhermatrimonialhumiliation。IsupposeImustinheritsomethingofthemoralstupiditythatwouldenablehertomakeaholocaustofeverylittlepersonalthingshehadofhim。Theremusthavebeenpresentsmadebyhimasalover,forexample——bookswithkindlyinscriptions,lettersperhaps,aflattenedflower,aring,orsuch-likegage。Shekeptherwedding-ring,ofcourse,butalltheothersshedestroyed。Shenevertoldmehischristiannameorindeedspokeawordtomeofhim;thoughattimesIcameneardaringtoaskher:addwhatIhaveofhim——itisn’tmuch——Igotfromhisbrother,myhero,myunclePonderevo。Sheworeherring;hermarriagecertificateshekeptinasealedenvelopeintheverybottomofherlargesttrunk,andmeshesustainedataprivateschoolamongtheKentishhills。YoumustnotthinkIwasalwaysatBladesover——eveninmyholidays。Ifatthetimethesecameround,LadyDrewwasvexedbyrecentCompany,orforanyotherreasonwishedtotakeitoutofmymother,thensheusedtoignorethecustomaryremindermymothergaveher,andI“stayedon“attheschool。

  Butsuchoccasionswererare,andIsupposethatbetweentenandfourteenIaveragedfiftydaysayearatBladesover。

  Don’timagineIdenythatwasafinethingforme。Bladesover,inabsorbingthewholecountryside,hadnotaltogethermissedgreatness。TheBladesoversystemhasatleastdoneonegoodthingforEngland,ithasabolishedthepeasanthabitofmind。

  Ifmanyofusstillliveandbreathepantryandhousekeeper’sroom,wearequitofthedreamoflivingbyeconomisingparasiticallyonhensandpigs。Aboutthatparkthereweresomeelementsofaliberaleducation;therewasagreatspaceofgreenswardnotgivenovertomanureandfoodgrubbing;therewasmystery,therewasmatterfortheimagination。Itwasstillaparkofdeer。Isawsomethingofthelifeofthesedappledcreatures,heardthebellingofstags,cameuponyoungfawnsamongthebracken,foundbones,skulls,andantlersinlonelyplaces。Therewerecornersthatgaveagleamofmeaningtothewordforest,glimpsesofunstudiednaturalsplendour。Therewasaslopeofbluebellsinthebrokensunlightunderthenewlygreenbeechesinthewestwoodthatisnowprecioussapphireinmymemory;itwasthefirsttimethatIknowinglymetBeauty。

  Andinthehousetherewerebooks。TherubbisholdLadyDrewreadIneversaw;stuffoftheMariaMonktype,Ihavesincegathered,hadafascinationforher;butbackinthepasttherehadbeenaDrewofintellectualenterprise,SirCuthbert,thesonofSirMatthewwhobuiltthehouse;andthrustaway,neglectedanddespised,inanoldroomupstairs,werebooksandtreasuresofhisthatmymotherletmeroutamongduringaspellofwintrywet。Sittingunderadormerwindowonashelfabovegreatstoresofteaandspices,IbecamefamiliarwithmuchofHogarthinabigportfolio,withRaphael,therewasagreatbookofengravingsfromthestanzasofRaphaelintheVatican——andwithmostofthecapitalsofEuropeastheyhadlookedabout1780,bymeansofseveralpigiron-mouldedbooksofviews。Therewasalsoabroadeighteenthcenturyatlaswithhugewanderingmapsthatinstructedmemightily。Ithadsplendidadornmentsabouteachmaptitle;Hollandshowedafishermanandhisboat;RussiaaCossack;Japan,remarkablepeopleattiredinpagodas——Isayitdeliberately,“pagodas。”TherewereTerraeIncognitaeineverycontinentthen,Poland,Sarmatia,landssincelost;andmanyavoyageImadewithabluntedpinaboutthatlarge,incorrectanddignifiedworld。Thebooksinthatlittleoldclosethadbeenbanished,Isuppose,fromthesaloonduringtheVictorianrevivalofgoodtasteandemasculatedorthodoxy,butmymotherhadnosuspicionoftheircharacter。SoIreadandunderstoodthegoodsoundrhetoricofTomPaine’s“RightsofMan。”andhis“CommonSense。”excellentbooks,oncepraisedbybishopsandsincesedulouslyliedabout。Gulliverwasthereunexpurgated,strongmeatforaboyperhapsbutnottoostrongIhold——IhaveneverregrettedthatIescapednicenessintheseaffairs。ThesatireofTraldragdubhmademybloodboilasitwasmeanttodo,butI

  hatedSwiftfortheHouyhnhnmsandneverquitelikedahorseafterwards。ThenIrememberalsoatranslationofVoltaire’s“Candide。”and“Rasselas;“and,vastbookthoughitwas,IreallybelieveIread,inamuzzysortofwayofcourse,fromendtoend,andevenwithsomereferencenowandthentotheAtlas,Gibbon——intwelvevolumes。

  Thesereadingswhettedmytasteformore,andsurreptitiouslyI

  raidedthebookcasesinthebigsaloon。IgotthroughquiteanumberofbooksbeforemysacrilegioustemeritywasdiscoveredbyAnn,theoldhead-housemaid。IrememberthatamongothersI

  triedatranslationofPlato’s“Republic“then,andfoundextraordinarilylittleinterestinit;Iwasmuchtooyoungforthat;but“Vathek“——“Vathek“wasgloriousstuff。Thatkickingaffair!WheneverybodyHADtokick!

  Thethoughtof“Vathek“alwaysbringsbackwithitmyboyishmemoryofthebigsaloonatBladesover。

  Itwasahugelongroomwithmanywindowsopeninguponthepark,andeachwindow——therewereadozenormorereachingfromthefloorup——haditselaboratesilkorsatincurtains,heavilyfringed,acanopyisit?above,itscompletelywhiteshuttersfoldingintothedeepthicknessofthewall。Ateitherendofthatgreatstillplacewasanimmensemarblechimney-piece;theendbythebookcaseshowedthewolfandRomulusandRemus,withHomerandVirgilforsupporters;thedesignoftheotherendI

  haveforgotten。Frederick,PrinceofWales,swaggeredflatlyovertheone,twicelife-size,butmellowedbythesurfacegleamofoil;andovertheotherwasanequallycolossalgroupofdepartedDrewsassylvandeities,scantilyclad,againstastorm-rentsky。Downthecentreoftheelaborateceilingwerethreechandeliers,eachbearingsomehundredsofdanglingglasslustres,andovertheinterminablecarpet——itimpressedmeasaboutasbigasSarmatiainthestore-roomAtlas——wereislandsandarchipelagoesofchintz-coveredchairsandcouches,tables,greatSevresvasesonpedestals,abronzemanandhorse。

  Somewhereinthiswildernessonecame,Iremember,upon——abigharpbesidealyre-shapedmusicstand,andagrandpiano。

  Thebook-borrowingraidwasoneofextraordinarydashanddanger。

  Onecamedownthemainservicestairs——thatwaslegal,andillegalitybeganinalittlelandingwhen,verycautiously,onewentthrougharedbaizedoor。Alittlepassageledtothehall,andhereonereconnoiteredforAnn,theoldhead-housemaid——theyoungerhousemaidswerefriendlyanddidnotcount。Annlocated,cameadashacrosstheopenspaceatthefootofthatgreatstaircasethathasneverbeenproperlydescendedsincepowderwentoutoffashion,andsotothesaloondoor。AbeastofanoscillatingChinamaninchina,aslargeaslife,grimacedandquiveredtoone’slighteststeps。Thatdoorwastheperilousplace;itwasdoublewiththethicknessofthewallbetween,sothatonecouldnotlistenbeforehandforthewhiskofthefeather-brushontheotherside。Oddlyrat-like,isitnot,thisdartingintoenormousplacesinpursuitoftheabandonedcrumbsofthought?

  AndIfoundLanghorne’s“Plutarch“too,Iremember,onthoseshelves。ItseemsqueertomenowtothinkthatIacquiredprideandself-respect,theideaofastateandthegermofpublicspirit,insuchafurtivefashion;queer,too,thatitshouldrestwithanoldGreek,deadtheseeighteenhundredyearstoteachthat。

  TheschoolIwenttowasthesortofschooltheBladesoversystempermitted。ThepublicschoolsthataddcomicintoexistenceinthebriefglowoftheRenascencehadbeentakenpossessionofbytherulingclass;thelowerclasseswerenotsupposedtostandinneedofschools,andourmiddlestratumgottheschoolsitdeserved,privateschools,schoolsanyunqualifiedpretenderwasfreetoestablish。MinewaskeptbyamanwhohadhadtheenergytogethimselfaCollegeofPreceptorsdiploma,andconsideringhowcheaphischargeswere,Iwillreadilyadmittheplacemighthavebeenworse。Thebuildingwasadingyyellow-brickresidenceoutsidethevillage,withtheschoolroomasanoutbuildingoflathandplaster。

  Idonotrememberthatmyschool-dayswereunhappy——indeedI

  recallagoodlotoffinemixedfuninthem——butIcannotwithoutgraveriskofmisinterpretationdeclarethatwewereatallniceandrefined。Wefoughtmuch,notsoundformalfighting,but“scrapping“ofasincereandmurderouskind,intowhichonemightbringone’sboots——itmadeustoughatanyrate——andseveralofuswerethesonsofLondonpublicans,whodistinguished“scraps“

  whereonemeanttohurtfromorderedpugilism,practisingbotharts,andhaving,moreover,precociouslinguisticgifts。Ourcricket-fieldwasbaldaboutthewickets,andweplayedwithoutstyleanddisputedwiththeumpire;andtheteachingwaschieflyinthehandsofaloutofnineteen,whoworeready-madeclothesandtaughtdespicably。Thehead-masterandproprietortaughtusarithmetic,algebra,andEuclid,andtotheolderboyseventrigonometry,himself;hehadastrongmathematicalbias,andI

  thinknowthatbythestandardofaBritishpublicschoolhedidratherwellbyus。

  Wehadoneinestimableprivilegeatthatschool,andthatwasspiritualneglect。Wedealtwithoneanotherwiththeforciblesimplicityofnaturalboys,we“cheeked。”and“punched“and“clouted“;wethoughtourselvesRedIndiansandcowboysandsuch-likehonourablethings,andnotyoungEnglishgentlemen;weneverfeltthestrainof“OnwardChristiansoldiers。”norwereswayedbyanyprematurepietyinthecoldoakpewofourSundaydevotions。Allthatwasgood。Wespentourrarepenniesintheuncensoredreadingmatterofthevillagedame’sshop,ontheBoysofEngland,andhonestpennydreadfuls——rippingstuff,stuffthatanticipatedHaggardandStevenson,badlyprintedandqueerlyillustrated,andveryverygoodforus。Onourhalf-holidayswewereallowedtheunusualfreedomoframblingintwosandthreeswideandfarabouttheland,talkingexperimentally,dreamingwildly。Therewasmuchinthosewalks!TothisdaythelandscapeoftheKentishworld,withitslowbroaddistances,itshopgardensandgoldenstretchesofwheat,itsoastsandsquarechurchtowers,itsbackgroundofdownlandandhangers,hasformeafaintsenseofadventureaddedtothepleasureofitsbeauty。

  Wesmokedonoccasion,butnobodyputusuptotheproper“boyish“thingstodo;wenever“robbedanorchard“forexample,thoughtherewereorchardsallaboutus,wethoughtstealingwassinful,westoleincidentalapplesandturnipsandstrawberriesfromthefieldsindeed,butinacriminalingloriousfashion,andafterwardswewereashamed。Wehadourdaysofadventure,buttheywerenaturalaccidents,ourownadventures。Therewasonehotdaywhenseveralofus,walkingouttowardsMaidstone,wereincitedbythedeviltodespisegingerbeer,andwefuddledourselvesdreadfullywithale;andatimewhenouryoungmindswereinfectedtothepitchofbuyingpistols,bythelegendoftheWildWest。YoungRootsfromHighburycamebackwitharevolverandcartridges,andwewentoffsixstrongtoliveafreewildlifeoneholidayafternoon。WefiredourfirstshotdeepintheoldflintmineatChiselstead,andnearlyburstoureardrums;thenwefiredinaprimrosestuddedwoodbyPickthornGreen,andIgaveafalsealarmof“keeper。”andwefledindisorderforamile。AfterwhichRootssuddenlyshotatapheasantinthehighroadbyChiselstead,andthenyoungBarkertoldliesabouttheseverityofthegamelawsandmadeRootssoreafraid,andwehidthepistolinadryditchoutsidetheschoolfield。Adayorsoafterwegotinagain,andignoringacertainfoulingandrustingofthebarrel,triedforarabbitatthreehundredyards。YoungRootsblewamolehillattwentypacesintoadustcloud,burnthisfingers,andscorchedhisface;andtheweaponhavingoncedisplayedthisstrangedispositiontoflamebackupontheshooter,wasnotsubsequentlyfired。

  Onemainsourceofexcitementforuswas“cheeking“peopleinvansandcartsupontheGoudhurstroad;andgettingmyselfintoamonstrouswhitemessinthechalkpitsbeyondthevillage,andcatchingyellowjaundiceasasequeltobathingstarknakedwiththreeotherAdamites,oldEwartleadingthatfunction,intherivuletacrossHickson’smeadows,areamongmymemorabilia。

  Thosefreeimaginativeafternoons!howmuchtheywereforus!howmuchtheydidforus!Allstreamscamefromthethenundiscovered“sourcesoftheNile“inthosedays,allthicketswereIndianjungles,andourbestgame,Isayitwithpride,I

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