Colin's own taste and love for art, too, were daily developing. He saw all that he could see, and he read about all that he couldn't see, spending every penny of his spare money (after he had repaid poor little Minna's nine shillings) on books about sculpture and painting; and making frequent visits to the reading-room and galleries at the great Museum. Now and then, too, when the trade in mourning widows was slack, when busts5 were flat and statuettes far from lively, Cicolari would run down into the country with him, and explore the artistic3 wonders of the big houses. At Deepdene they could look at Thorwaldsen's Jason and Canova's Venus: at Knole they gazed upon Vandycks, and Rey-nolds's, and Constables6, and Gainsboroughs; in London itself they had leave to visit the priceless art collections at Stafford House, and half a dozen other great private galleries. So Colin Churchill's mind expanded rapidly, in the midst of the atmosphere it should naturally have breathed. Not books alone, but the mighty7 works of the mightiest8 workers, were the documents from which he spelt out slowly his own artistic education. Later on, men who met Colin Churchill at Rome—men who had gone through the regular dull classical round of our universities—were astonished to find that the Dorsetshire peasant-sculptor9, of whom they had heard so much, was a widely cultivated and well-read man. They expected to see an inspired boor10 wielding11 a sculptor's mallet12 in a rude labourer's hand: they were surprised to meet a handsome young man, of delicate features and finely-stored mind, who talked about Here and Aphrodite, and the nymphs who came to visit the bound Prometheus, as if he had known them personally and intimately all his life long in their own remote Hellenic dwelling13 places.
And indeed, though the university where Colin Churchill took his degree with honours was not one presided over by doctors in red hoods14 and proctors in velvet15 sleeves, one may well doubt whether he did not penetrate16 quite as deeply, after all, into the inmost recesses17 of the great Hellenic genius as most men who have learnt to write iambic trimeters from well-trained composition masters, with the most careful avoidance of that ugly long syllable18 before the cretic in the two last feet, to which the painstaking19 scholar attaches so much undue20 importance. Do you think, my good Mr. Dean, or excellent Senior Censor21, that a man cannot learn just as much about the Athens of Pericles from the Elgin Marbles as from a classical dictionary or a dog-eared Thucydides? Do you suppose that to have worked up the first six Iliads with a Liddell and Scott brings you in the end so very much nearer the heart and soul of the primitive22 Ach?ans than to have studied with loving care the vases in the British Museum, or even to have followed with a sculptor's eye the exquisite23 imaginings of divine John Flaxman?
Why, where do you suppose Flaxman himself got his Homer from, except from the very same source as poor, self-taught Colin Churchill—Mr. Alexander Pope's correctly colourless and ingenious travesty24? Do you really believe there is no understanding the many-sided essentially25 artistic Greek idiosyncrasy except through the medium of the twenty-four written signs from alpha to omega? Colin Churchill didn't believe so, at least: and who that has seen his Alcestis, or his Agamemnon and Clytemnestra, or his Death of Antigone, can fail to admit that they are in very truth the direct offshoots of the Hellas of Sophocles, and ?schylus, and Pheidias?
All Cohn Churchill's reading was, in its way, sculpturesque. Of poetry, he loved Milton better than Shakespeare. Shakespeare is the painter's poet, Milton the sculptor's; and he wearied out his soul because he could never rise in clay to his own evasive mental image of the Miltonic Satan. He read Shelley, too, most Greek of Englishmen, and took more than one idea for future statues from those statuesque tragedies and poems. But best of all he loved ?schylus, whom he couldn't read in the original, to be sure, but whom he followed through half a dozen translations till he had read himself into the very inmost spirit of the Agamemnon and the Pers? and the Prometheus. The man who has fed his fancy on ?schylus, Milton, and Shelley, and his eyes on Michael Angelo, Thorwaldsen, and Flaxman, is not, after all, wholly wanting in the elements of the highest and purest culture.
Two years after Colin went to live at the little workshop in the Marylebone Road, another person came to swell26 the population of the great metropolis27 by a unit, and to correspondingly diminish the dwindling28 account at Wootton Mandeville. Minna Wroe was now sixteen, and for a year past she had been living out at service as kitchen-maid at the village doctor's. But Minna was an ambitious small body, and had a soul above dish-cloths. So she kept the precious nine shillings that Colin had returned to her well hoarded30 in her own little purse, and added to them from time to time whatever sums she could manage to save from her small wages—for wages are low in Dorsetshire, and white caps cost money both for the buying and washing, you may be certain. When her sixteenth birthday had fairly come and gone Minna gave notice to her mistress, and at the end of her month started off to London, like so many other young people of both sexes, to seek her fortune.
'Dear Colin,' she wrote to him a day or two before from the doctor's at Wootton, 'I am coming up to London to look out for a situation on Monday next, and I should be very glad if you could meet me at Paddinton Station at 6.30. I have not got a situation but I hope soon to get one there is lots to be had in London and has you are their I should like to be in London. Please dear Cohn come to meet me as I am going to Mrs. Woods of Wootton till I get a situation to lodge31 with love from all so no more at present from your old Friend, Minna.'
Colin took the letter from the postman, as he was working at the clay of a little bas-relief for a mural tablet, and read it over twice to himself with very mingled32 and uncertain feelings. On the first reading he felt only a glow of pleasure to think that little Minna, his old playmate, would now be within easy reach of him. Cohn had never considered himself exactly in love with Minna (he was only eighteen), and he had even indulged (since the sad truth must out) in a passing flirtation33 with the young lady at the open greengrocer's shop just round the corner; but he was very fond of Minna for all that, and in an indefinite way he had always felt as if she really belonged to him far more than anybody else did. So his first feeling was one of unmixed pleasure at the prospect34 of having her to live so near him. On the second reading, however, it did strike even Colin, who was only just beginning his own self-education in literary matters, that the letter might have been better spelt and worded and punctuated35. He had been rising-in the social scale so gradually that, for the first time in his life, he then felt as if Minna were just one single level below him, intellectually and educationally.
He pocketed the letter with a slight sigh, and went on moulding the drapery of St. Mary Magdalene, after the design from a fresco36 in St. John Port Lateran. Would Minna care at all about Flaxman, he wondered to himself mutely; would she interest herself in that admirable replica37 by Bartolini; would she understand his torso of Theseus, or his copy in clay of the Florentine Boar, or his rough sketch38 for a Cephalus and Aurora39? Or would she be merely a London housemaid, just like all the girls he saw of a morning cleaning the front door-steps in Harley Street, and stopping to bandy vulgar chaff40 with the postman, and the newspaper boy, and the young policeman? Two years had made a great deal of difference, no doubt, to both of them; and Cohn wondered vaguely41 in his own soul what Minna would think of him now, and what he would think of Minna.
On Monday, he was down at the station true to time, and waiting for the arrival of the 6.30 from Dorchester. As it drew up at the platform, he moved quickly along the third-class carriages, on the look-out for anybody who might answer to the memory of his little Minna. Presently he saw her jump lightly, as of old, from the carriage—a mignonne little figure, with a dark, round, merry face, and piercing black eyes as bright as diamonds. He ran up to greet her with boyish awkwardness and bashful timidity. 'Why, Minna,' he cried, 'you've grown into such a woman that I'm afraid to kiss you; but I'm very glad indeed to see you.'
Minna drew herself up so as to look as tall as possible, and answered with dignity:
'I should hope, Colin, you wouldn't want to kiss me in any case here in the station. It was very kind of you to come and meet me.'
Colin observed at once that she spoke42 with a good accent, and that her manner was, if anything, decidedly less embarrassed than his own. Indeed, as a rule, the young men of the working classes, no matter how much intellectual or artistic power they may possess, are far more shy, gauche43, and awkward than the young women of the same class, who usually show instinctively44 a great deal of natural refinement45 of manner. He was immediately not a little reassured46 as to Minna's present attainments47.
'I want to go to Mrs. Wood's,' Minna said, as calmly as if she had been accustomed to Paddington Station all her lifetime; 'and I've got two boxes; how ought I to get there?'
'Where is Mrs. Wood's?' Colin asked.
'At Dean Street, Marylebone.'
'Why, that's quite close to our place,' Colin cried. 'Are they big boxes? I could carry 'em, maybe.'
'No, you couldn't carry them, Colin. Why, what nonsense. It wouldn't be respectable.'
Colin laughed. 'I should have done it at Wootton, anyhow, Minna,' he answered; 'and a working stone-cutter needn't be ashamed of anything in the way of work, surely.'
'But a sculptor's got to keep up his position,' Minna put in firmly.
Colin smiled again. Already he had a nascent48 idea in his own head that even a sculptor could not bemean himself greatly by carrying a wooden box through the streets of London for a lady—he was getting to believe in the dignity of labour—but he didn't insist upon this point with Minna; for, young as he was, he had a notion even then that the gospel for men isn't always at the same time the gospel for women. Even a good woman would feel much less compunction against many serious crimes than against trundling a wheelbarrow full of clean clothes up Begent Street of an afternoon in the height of the season.
So Cohn was for calling a porter with a truck; but even that modified measure of conveyance49 did not wholly suit Minna's aristocratic fancy. 'Are they things cabs, Cohn?' she asked quietly.
'Those things are,' Cohn answered with a significant emphasis. Minna blushed a trifle.
'Oh, those things,' she repeated slowly; 'then I'll have one.' And in two minutes more, Cohn, for the first time in his life, found himself actually driving along the public streets in the inside of a hansom. Why, you imperious, extravagant50 little Minna, where on earth are you going to find money for such expenses as these in our toilsome, under-paid, workyday London?
When they reached Mrs. Wood's door, Cohn, feeling that he must rise to the situation, pulled out his purse to pay for the hansom, but Minna waved him aside with a dignified51 air of authority. 'No no,' she said, 'that won't do; take my purse, Cohn. I don't know how much to pay him, and like enough he'd cheat me; but you know the ways in London.'
Colin took the purse, and opened it. The first compartment52 he opened contained some silver, wrapped up in a scrap53 of tissue paper. Colin undid54 the paper and took out a shilling, which he was going to hand the cabman, when Minna laid her hand upon his arm and suddenly checked him. 'No, no,' she said, 'not that, Colin. From the other side, please, will you?'
Colin looked at the contents of the little paper once more, and rapidly counted it. It was nine shillings. He caught Minna's eye at the moment, and Minna coloured crimson55. Then Cohn knew at once what those nine shillings were, and why they were separately wrapped in tissue paper.
He paid the cabman, from the other half, and put the boxes inside Mrs. Wood's door way. 'And now may I kiss you, Minna?' he asked, in the dark passage.
'If you like, Colin,' Minna answered, turning up her full red lips and round face with child-like innocence56, Colin Churchill kissed her: and when he had kissed her once, he waited a minute, and then he took her plump little face between his own two hands and kissed her rather harder a second time. Minna's face tingled57 a little, but she said nothing.
The very next morning Minna came round, by Colin's invitation, to Cicolari's workshop. Colin was busy at work moulding, and Minna cast her eye around lightly as she entered on all the busts and plaster casts that filled the room. She advanced to meet him as if she expected to be kissed, so Colin kissed her. Then, with a rapid glance round the room, her eye rested at last upon the Cephalus and Aurora, and she went straight over to look at it with wondering eyes. 'Oh, Colin,' she cried, did you do that? What a lovely image!'
Colin was pleased and flattered at once. 'You like it, Minna?' he said. 'You really like it?'
Minna glanced carefully round the room once more with her keen black eyes, and after scanning every one of the plaster casts and unfinished busts in a comprehensive survey, answered unhesitatingly: 'I like it best of everything in the room, Colin, except the image of the man with the plate over yonder.'
Colin smiled a smile of triumph. Minna was not wholly lacking in taste, certainly; for the Cephalus was the best of his compositions, and the man with the plate was a plaster copy of the Discobolus. 'You'll do, Minna,' he said, patting her little black head with his cleanest hand (to the imminent58 danger of the small hat with the red rose in it). 'You'll do yet, with a little coaching.'
Then Colin took her round the studio, as Cicolari ambitiously called it, and explained everything to her, and showed her plates of the Venus of Milo, and the Apollo Belvedere, and the Laocoon, and the Niobe, and several other ladies and gentlemen with very long names and no clothes to speak of, till poor Minna began at last to be quite appalled59 at the depth of his learning and quite frightened at her own unquestioning countrified ignorance. For as yet Minna had no idea that there was anything much to learn in the world except reading and writing, and the art of cookery, and the proper use of the English language. But when she heard Colin chattering60 away so glibly61 to her about the age of Pheidias, and the age of the Decadence62, and the sculptors63 of the Renaissance64, and the absolute necessity of going to Rome, she began to conceive that perhaps Colin in his own heart might imagine she wasn't now good enough for him; which was a point of view on the subject that had never before struck the Dorsetshire fisherman's pretty black-eyed little daughter.
By-and-by, Colin began to talk of herself and her prospects65; and to ask whether she was going to put herself down at a registry office; and last of all to allude66 delicately to the matter of the misspelt letter. 'You know, Minna,' he said apologetically, feeling his boyish awkwardness far more than ever, 'I've tried a lot to improve myself at Exeter, and still more since I came to London. I've read a great deal, and worked very hard, and now I think I'm beginning to get on, and know something, not only about art, but about books as well. Now, I know you won't mind my telling you, but that letter wasn't all spelt right, or stopped right. You ought to be very particular, you know, about the stopping and the spelling.'
Before he could say any more, Minna looked full in his face and stopped him short immediately. 'Colin,' she said, 'don't say another 'word about it. I know what you mean, and I'm going to attend to it. I never felt it in my life till I came here this morning; but I feel it now, and I shall take care to alter it.' She was a determined67 little body was Minna; and as she said those words, she looked so thoroughly68 as if she meant them that Colin dropped the subject at once and never spoke to her again about it.
Just at that moment two customers came to speak to Colin about a statuette he was working at for them. It was an old gentleman and a grand young lady. Minna stood aside while they talked, and pretended to be looking at Cephalus and Aurora with a critical eye, but she was really listening with all her ears to the conversation between Colin and the grand young lady. She was a very grand young lady, indeed, who talked very fine, and drawled her vowels69, and clipped her r's, and mangled70 the English language hideously71, and gave other indubitable signs of the very best and highest breeding: and Minna noticed almost with dismay that she called Colin 'Mr. Churchill,' and seemed to defer72 to all his opinions about curves and contours and attitudes. 'You have such lovely taste, you know, Mr. Churchill,' the grand young lady said; 'and we want this copy to be as good as you can make it, because it's for a very particular friend of ours, who admired the original so much at Rome last winter.'
Minna listened in awe73 and trembling, and felt in her heart just a faint twinge of feminine jealousy74 to think that even such a grand young lady should speak so flattering like to our Colin.
'And there's the Cephalus, Papa,' the grand young lady went on. 'Isn't it beautiful? I do hope some day, Mr. Churchill, you'll get a commission for it in marble. If I were rich enough, I'd commission it myself, for I positively75 doat upon it. However, somebody's sure to buy it some time or other, so it's no use people like me longing76 to have it.'
Minna's heart rose, choking, into her mouth, as she stood there flushed and silent.
When the grand young lady and her papa were gone, Minna said good-bye a little hastily to Colin, and shrank back, crying: 'No, no, Colin,' when he tried to kiss her. Then she ran in a hurry to Mrs. Wood's in Dean Street. But though she was in a great haste to get home (for her bright little eyes had tears swimming in them), she stopped boldly at a small bookseller's shop on the way, and invested two whole shillings of her little hoard29 in a valuable work bearing on its cover the title, 'The Polite Correspondent's Complete Manual of Letter Writing.' 'He shall never kiss me again,' she said to herself firmly, 'until I can feel that I've made myself in every way thoroughly fit for him.'
It wasn't a very exalted77 model of literary composition, that Complete Manual of Letter Writing, but at least its spelling and punctuation78 were immaculate; and for many months to come after she had secured her place as parlour-maid in an eminently79 creditable family in Regent's Park, Minna sat herself down in her own bedroom every evening, when work was over, and deliberately80 endeavoured to perfect herself in those two elementary accomplishments81 by the use of the Polite Correspondent's unconscious guide, philosopher, and friend. First of all she read a whole letter over carefully, observing every stop and every spelling; then she copied it out entire, word for word, as well as she could recollect82 it, entirely83 from memory; and finally she corrected her written copy by the printed version in the Complete Manual, until she could transcribe84 every letter in the entire volume with perfect accuracy. It wasn't a very great educational effort, perhaps, from the point of view of advanced culture; but to Minna Wroe it was a beginning in self-improvement, and in these matters above all others the first step is everything.
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1
suburban
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| adj.城郊的，在郊区的 | |
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chisel
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| n.凿子；v.用凿子刻，雕，凿 | |
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artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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drudgery
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| n.苦工，重活，单调乏味的工作 | |
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busts
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| 半身雕塑像( bust的名词复数 )； 妇女的胸部； 胸围； 突击搜捕 | |
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constables
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| n.警察( constable的名词复数 ) | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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mightiest
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| adj.趾高气扬( mighty的最高级 )；巨大的；强有力的；浩瀚的 | |
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sculptor
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| n.雕刻家，雕刻家 | |
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boor
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| n.举止粗野的人；乡下佬 | |
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wielding
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| 手持着使用（武器、工具等）( wield的现在分词 )； 具有； 运用（权力）； 施加（影响） | |
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mallet
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| n.槌棒 | |
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dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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hoods
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| n.兜帽( hood的名词复数 )；头巾；（汽车、童车等的）折合式车篷；汽车发动机罩v.兜帽( hood的第三人称单数 )；头巾；（汽车、童车等的）折合式车篷；汽车发动机罩 | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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penetrate
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| v.透(渗)入；刺入，刺穿；洞察，了解 | |
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recesses
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| n.壁凹( recess的名词复数 )；（工作或业务活动的）中止或暂停期间；学校的课间休息；某物内部的凹形空间v.把某物放在墙壁的凹处( recess的第三人称单数 )；将（墙）做成凹形，在（墙）上做壁龛；休息，休会，休庭 | |
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syllable
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| n.音节；vt.分音节 | |
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painstaking
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| adj.苦干的；艰苦的，费力的，刻苦的 | |
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undue
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| adj.过分的；不适当的；未到期的 | |
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censor
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| n./vt.审查，审查员；删改 | |
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primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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travesty
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| n.歪曲，嘲弄，滑稽化 | |
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essentially
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| adv.本质上，实质上，基本上 | |
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swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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metropolis
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| n.首府；大城市 | |
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dwindling
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| adj.逐渐减少的v.逐渐变少或变小( dwindle的现在分词 ) | |
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hoard
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| n./v.窖藏，贮存，囤积 | |
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hoarded
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| v.积蓄并储藏（某物）( hoard的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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lodge
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| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
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mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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flirtation
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| n.调情，调戏，挑逗 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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punctuated
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| v.（在文字中）加标点符号，加标点( punctuate的过去式和过去分词 )；不时打断某事物 | |
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fresco
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| n.壁画；vt.作壁画于 | |
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replica
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| n.复制品 | |
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sketch
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| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
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aurora
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| n.极光 | |
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chaff
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| v.取笑，嘲笑；n.谷壳 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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42
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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gauche
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| adj.笨拙的，粗鲁的 | |
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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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refinement
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| n.文雅；高尚；精美；精制；精炼 | |
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reassured
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| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
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attainments
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| 成就，造诣； 获得( attainment的名词复数 )； 达到； 造诣； 成就 | |
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48
nascent
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| adj.初生的，发生中的 | |
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conveyance
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| n.(不动产等的)转让，让与；转让证书；传送；运送；表达；（正）运输工具 | |
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extravagant
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| adj.奢侈的；过分的；(言行等)放肆的 | |
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dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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compartment
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| n.卧车包房，隔间；分隔的空间 | |
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scrap
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| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
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Undid
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| v. 解开, 复原 | |
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crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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tingled
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| v.有刺痛感( tingle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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imminent
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| adj.即将发生的，临近的，逼近的 | |
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appalled
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| v.使惊骇，使充满恐惧( appall的过去式和过去分词)adj.惊骇的；丧胆的 | |
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chattering
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| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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glibly
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| adv.流利地，流畅地；满口 | |
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decadence
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| n.衰落，颓废 | |
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sculptors
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| 雕刻家，雕塑家( sculptor的名词复数 )； [天]玉夫座 | |
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renaissance
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| n.复活，复兴，文艺复兴 | |
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prospects
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| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
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allude
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| v.提及，暗指 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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vowels
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| n.元音，元音字母( vowel的名词复数 ) | |
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mangled
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| vt.乱砍（mangle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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hideously
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| adv.可怕地，非常讨厌地 | |
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defer
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| vt.推迟，拖延；vi.(to)遵从，听从，服从 | |
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awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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exalted
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| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
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punctuation
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| n.标点符号，标点法 | |
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eminently
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| adv.突出地；显著地；不寻常地 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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accomplishments
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| n.造诣；完成( accomplishment的名词复数 )；技能；成绩；成就 | |
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recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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transcribe
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| v.抄写，誉写；改编(乐曲)；复制，转录 | |
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