As the history of the chair had exhausted4 all his facts, Grandfather determined5 to have recourse to fable6. So, after warning the children that they must not mistake this story for a true one, he related what we shall call,—
GRANDFATHER'S DREAM
Laurence and Clara, where were you last night? Where were you, Charley, and dear little Alice? You had all gone to rest, and left old Grandfather to meditate7 alone, in his great chair. The lamp had grown so dim, that its light hardly illuminated8 the alabaster9 shade. The wood fire had crumbled10 into heavy embers, among which the little flames danced, and quivered, and sported about, like fairies.
And here sat Grandfather, all by himself. He knew that it was bedtime; yet he could not help longing11 to hear your merry voices, or to hold a comfortable chat with some old friend; because then his pillow would be visited by pleasant dreams. But, as neither children nor friends were at hand, Grandfather leaned back in the great chair, and closed his eyes, for the sake of meditating12 more profoundly.
And, when Grandfather's meditations14 had grown very profound indeed, he fancied that he heard a sound over his head, as if somebody were preparing to speak.
As Grandfather did not know that any person was in the room, he started up in great surprise, and peeped hither and thither16, behind the chair, and into the recess17 by the fireside, and at the dark nook yonder, near the bookcase. Nobody could he see.
"Pooh!" said Grandfather to himself, "I must have been dreaming."
But, just as he was going to resume his seat, Grandfather happened to look at the great chair. The rays of fire-light were flickering18 upon it in such a manner that it really seemed as if its oaken frame were all alive. What! Did it not move its elbow? There, too! It certainly lifted one of its ponderous19 fore-legs, as if it had a notion of drawing itself a little nearer to the fire. Meanwhile, the lion's head nodded at Grandfather, with as polite and sociable20 a look as a lion's visage, carved in oak, could possibly be expected to assume. Well, this is strange!
"Good evening, my old friend," said the dry and husky voice, now a little clearer than before. "We have been intimately acquainted so long, that I think it high time we have a chat together."
Grandfather was looking straight at the lion's head, and could not be mistaken in supposing that it moved its lips. So here the mystery was all explained.
"I was not aware," said Grandfather, with a civil salutation to his oaken companion, "that you possessed the faculty21 of speech. Otherwise, I should often have been glad to converse22 with such a solid, useful, and substantial, if not brilliant member of society."
"Oh!" replied the ancient chair, in a quiet and easy tone, for it had now cleared its throat of the dust of ages. "I am naturally a silent and incommunicative sort of character. Once or twice, in the course of a century, I unclose my lips. When the gentle Lady Arbella departed this life, I uttered a groan23. When the honest mint-master weighed his plump daughter against the pine-tree shillings, I chuckled24 audibly at the joke. When old Simon Bradstreet took the place of the tyrant25 Andros, I joined in the general huzza, and capered26 upon my wooden legs, for joy. To be sure, the bystanders were so fully27 occupied with their own feelings, that my sympathy was quite unnoticed."
"And have you often held a private chat with your friends?" asked Grandfather.
"Not often," answered the chair. "I once talked with Sir William Phips, and communicated my ideas about the witchcraft28 delusion29. Cotton Mather had several conversations with me, and derived30 great benefit from my historical reminiscences. In the days of the Stamp Act, I whispered in the ear of Hutchinson, bidding him to remember what stock his countrymen were descended31 of, and to think whether the spirit of their forefathers32 had utterly33 departed from them. The last man whom I favored with a colloquy34, was that stout35 old republican, Samuel Adams."
"And how happens it," inquired Grandfather, "that there is no record nor tradition of your conversational36 abilities? It is an uncommon37 thing to meet with a chair that can talk."
"Why, to tell you the truth," said the chair, giving itself a hitch38 nearer to the hearth39, "I am not apt to choose the most suitable moments for unclosing my lips. Sometimes I have inconsiderately begun to speak, when my occupant, lolling back in my arms, was inclined to take an after-dinner nap. Or, perhaps, the impulse to talk may be felt at midnight, when the lamp burns dim, and the fire crumbles40 into decay, and the studious or thoughtful man finds that his brain is in a mist. Oftenest, I have unwisely uttered my wisdom in the ears of sick persons, when the inquietude of fever made them toss about, upon my cushion. And so it happens, that, though my words make a pretty strong impression at the moment, yet my auditors41 invariably remember them only as a dream. I should not wonder if you, my excellent friend, were to do the same, to-morrow morning."
"Nor I either," thought Grandfather to himself. However, he thanked this respectable old chair for beginning the conversation, and begged to know whether it had any thing particular to communicate.
"I have been listening attentively42 to your narrative43 of my adventures," replied the chair, "and it must be owned, that your correctness entitles you to be held up as a pattern to biographers. Nevertheless, there are a few omissions44, which I should be glad to see supplied. For instance, you make no mention of the good knight45, Sir Richard Saltonstall, nor of the famous Hugh Peters, nor of those old regicide judges, Whalley, Goffe, and Dixwell. Yet I have borne the weight of all these distinguished46 characters, at one time or another."
Grandfather promised amendment47, if ever he should have an opportunity to repeat his narrative. The good old chair, which still seemed to retain a due regard for outward appearance, then reminded him how long a time had passed, since it had been provided with a new cushion. It likewise expressed the opinion, that the oaken figures on its back would show to much better advantage, by the aid of a little varnish48.
"And I have had a complaint in this joint," continued the chair, endeavoring to lift one of its legs, "ever since Charley trundled his wheelbarrow against me."
"It shall be attended to," said Grandfather. "And now, venerable chair, I have a favor to solicit49. During an existence of more than two centuries, you have had a familiar intercourse50 with men who were esteemed51 the wisest of their day. Doubtless, with your capacious understanding, you have treasured up many an invaluable53 lesson of wisdom. You certainly have had time enough to guess the riddle54 of life. Tell us poor mortals, then, how we may be happy!"
The lion's head fixed55 its eyes thoughtfully upon the fire, and the whole chair assumed an aspect of deep meditation13. Finally, it beckoned56 to Grandfather with its elbow, and made a step sideways towards him, as if it had a very important secret to communicate.
"As long as I have stood in the midst of human affairs," said the chair, with a very oracular enunciation57, "I have constantly observed that JUSTICE, TRUTH, and LOVE, are the chief ingredients of every happy life."
"Justice, Truth, and Love!" exclaimed Grandfather. "We need not exist two centuries to find out that these qualities are essential to our happiness. This is no secret. Every human being is born with the instinctive58 knowledge of it."
"Ah!" cried the chair, drawing back in surprise. "From what I have observed of the dealings of man with man, and nation with nation, I never should have suspected that they knew this all-important secret. And, with this eternal lesson written in your soul, do you ask me to sift59 new wisdom for you, out of my petty existence of two or three centuries?"
"But, my dear chair—" said Grandfather.
"Not a word more," interrupted the chair; "here I close my lips for the next hundred years. At the end of that period, if I shall have discovered any new precepts60 of happiness, better than what Heaven has already taught you, they shall assuredly be given to the world."
In the energy of its utterance61, the oaken chair seemed to stamp its foot, and trod, (we hope unintentionally) upon Grandfather's toe. The old gentleman started, and found that he had been asleep in the great chair, and that his heavy walking stick had fallen down across his foot.
"Grandfather," cried little Alice, clapping her hands, "you must dream a new dream, every night, about our chair!"
Laurence, and Clara, and Charley, said the same. But the good old gentleman shook his head, and declared that here ended the history, real or fabulous62, of Grandfather's Chair.
Biographical Stories
BENJAMIN WEST,
SIR ISAAC NEWTON,
SAMUEL JOHNSON
OLIVER CROMWELL,
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN,
QUEEN CHRISTINA.
This small volume, and others of a similar character, from the same hand, have not been composed without a deep sense of responsibility. The author regards children as sacred, and would not, for the world, cast any thing into the fountain of a young heart, that might embitter63 and pollute its waters. And, even in point of the reputation to be aimed at, juvenile64 literature is as well worth cultivating as any other. The writer, if he succeed in pleasing his little readers, may hope to be remembered by them till their own old age—a far longer period of literary existence than is generally attained65, by those who seek immortality66 from the judgments67 of full grown men.
Chapter I
When Edward Temple was about eight or nine years old, he was afflicted68 with a disorder69 of the eyes. It was so severe, and his sight was naturally so delicate, that the surgeon felt some apprehensions70 lest the boy should become totally blind. He therefore gave strict directions to keep him in a darkened chamber71, with a bandage over his eyes. Not a ray of the blessed light of Heaven could be suffered to visit the poor lad.
This was a sad thing for Edward! It was just the same as if there were to be no more sunshine, nor moonlight, nor glow of the cheerful fire, nor light of lamps. A night had begun which was to continue perhaps for months,—a longer and drearier72 night than that which voyagers are compelled to endure, when their ship is ice-bound, throughout the winter, in the Arctic Ocean. His dear father and mother, his brother George, and the sweet face of little Emily Robinson, must all vanish, and leave him in utter darkness and solitude73. Their voices and footsteps, it is true, would be heard around him; he would feel his mother's embrace, and the kind pressure of all their hands; but still it would seem as if they were a thousand miles away.
And then his studies! They were to be entirely74 given up. This was another grievous trial; for Edward's memory hardly went back to the period when he had not known how to read. Many and many a holiday had he spent at his book, poring over its pages until the deepening twilight75 confused the print, and made all the letters run into long words. Then would he press his hands across his eyes, and wonder why they pained him so, and, when the candles were lighted, what was the reason that they burned so dimly, like the moon in a foggy night. Poor little fellow! So far as his eyes were concerned, he was already an old man, and needed a pair of spectacles almost as much as his own grandfather did.
And now, alas76! the time was come, when even grandfather's spectacles could not have assisted Edward to read. After a few bitter tears, which only pained his eyes the more, the poor boy submitted to the surgeon's orders. His eyes were bandaged, and, with his mother on one side, and his little friend Emily on the other, he was led into a darkened chamber.
"Oh, no, my dear child!" replied his mother, cheerfully. "Your eyesight was a precious gift of Heaven, it is true; but you would do wrong to be miserable for its loss, even if there were no hope of regaining79 it. There are other enjoyments80, besides what come to us through our eyes."
"None that are worth having," said Edward.
"Ah! but you will not think so long," rejoined Mrs. Temple, with tenderness. "All of us—your father, and myself, and George, and our sweet Emily—will try to find occupation and amusement for you. We will use all our eyes to make you happy. Will not they be better than a single pair?"
"I will sit by you all day long," said Emily, in her low, sweet voice, putting her hand into that of Edward.
"And so will I, Ned," said George, his elder brother,—"school time and all, if my father will permit me."
Edward's brother George was three or four years older than himself, a fine, hardy81 lad, of a bold and ardent82 temper. He was the leader of his comrades in all their enterprises and amusements. As to his proficiency83 at study, there was not much to be said. He had sense and ability enough to have made himself a scholar, but found so many pleasanter things to do, that he seldom took hold of a book with his whole heart. So fond was George of boisterous84 sports and exercises, that it was really a great token of affection and sympathy, when he offered to sit all day long in a dark chamber, with his poor brother Edward.
As for little Emily Robinson, she was the daughter of one of Mr. Temple's dearest friends. Ever since her mother went to Heaven, (which was soon after Emily's birth,) the little girl had dwelt in the household where we now find her. Mr. and Mrs. Temple seemed to love her as well as their own children; for they had no daughter except Emily; nor would the boys have known the blessing85 of a sister, had not this gentle stranger come to teach them what it was. If I could show you Emily's face, with her dark hair smoothed away from her forehead, you would be pleased with her look of simplicity86 and loving-kindness, but might think that she was somewhat too grave for a child of seven years old. But you would not love her the less for that.
So brother George, and this loving little girl, were to be Edward's companions and playmates, while he should be kept prisoner in the dark chamber. When the first bitterness of his grief was over, he began to feel that there might be some comforts and enjoyments in life, even for a boy whose eyes were covered with a bandage.
"I thank you, dear mother," said he, with only a few sobs87, "and you, Emily; and you too, George. You will all be very kind to me, I know. And my father—will not he come and see me, every day?"
"Yes, my dear boy," said Mr. Temple; for, though invisible to Edward, he was standing52 close beside him. "I will spend some hours of every day with you. And as I have often amused you by relating stories and adventures, while you had the use of your eyes, I can do the same, now that you are unable to read. Will this please you, Edward?"
"Oh, very much!" replied Edward.
"Well then," said his father, "this evening we will begin the series of Biographical Stories, which I promised you some time ago."
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
possessed
|
|
| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
glimmered
|
|
| v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
exhausted
|
|
| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
determined
|
|
| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
fable
|
|
| n.寓言；童话；神话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
meditate
|
|
| v.想，考虑，（尤指宗教上的）沉思，冥想 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
illuminated
|
|
| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
alabaster
|
|
| adj.雪白的；n.雪花石膏；条纹大理石 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
crumbled
|
|
| （把…）弄碎， （使）碎成细屑( crumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 衰落； 坍塌； 损坏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
longing
|
|
| n.（for）渴望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
meditating
|
|
| a.沉思的，冥想的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
meditation
|
|
| n.熟虑，（尤指宗教的）默想，沉思，（pl.）冥想录 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
meditations
|
|
| 默想( meditation的名词复数 )； 默念； 沉思； 冥想 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
hem
|
|
| n.贴边，镶边；vt.缝贴边；(in)包围，限制 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
thither
|
|
| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
recess
|
|
| n.短期休息，壁凹（墙上装架子，柜子等凹处） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
flickering
|
|
| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
ponderous
|
|
| adj.沉重的，笨重的，(文章)冗长的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
sociable
|
|
| adj.好交际的，友好的，合群的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
faculty
|
|
| n.才能；学院，系；(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
converse
|
|
| vi.谈话，谈天，闲聊；adv.相反的，相反 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
groan
|
|
| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
chuckled
|
|
| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
tyrant
|
|
| n.暴君，专制的君主，残暴的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
capered
|
|
| v.跳跃，雀跃( caper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
fully
|
|
| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
witchcraft
|
|
| n.魔法，巫术 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
delusion
|
|
| n.谬见，欺骗，幻觉，迷惑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
derived
|
|
| vi.起源；由来；衍生；导出v.得到( derive的过去式和过去分词 )；（从…中）得到获得；源于；（从…中）提取 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
descended
|
|
| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
forefathers
|
|
| n.祖先，先人；祖先，祖宗( forefather的名词复数 )；列祖列宗；前人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
utterly
|
|
| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
colloquy
|
|
| n.谈话，自由讨论 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
conversational
|
|
| adj.对话的，会话的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
uncommon
|
|
| adj.罕见的，非凡的，不平常的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
hitch
|
|
| v.免费搭(车旅行)；系住；急提；n.故障；急拉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
hearth
|
|
| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
crumbles
|
|
| 酥皮水果甜点( crumble的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
auditors
|
|
| n.审计员，稽核员( auditor的名词复数 )；（大学课程的）旁听生 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
attentively
|
|
| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
narrative
|
|
| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
omissions
|
|
| n.省略( omission的名词复数 )；删节；遗漏；略去或漏掉的事（或人） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
knight
|
|
| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
distinguished
|
|
| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
amendment
|
|
| n.改正，修正，改善，修正案 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
varnish
|
|
| n.清漆；v.上清漆；粉饰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
solicit
|
|
| vi.勾引；乞求；vt.请求，乞求；招揽(生意) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
intercourse
|
|
| n.性交；交流，交往，交际 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
esteemed
|
|
| adj.受人尊敬的v.尊敬( esteem的过去式和过去分词 )；敬重；认为；以为 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
invaluable
|
|
| adj.无价的，非常宝贵的，极为贵重的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
riddle
|
|
| n.谜，谜语，粗筛；vt.解谜，给…出谜，筛，检查，鉴定，非难，充满于；vi.出谜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
beckoned
|
|
| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
enunciation
|
|
| n.清晰的发音；表明，宣言；口齿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
instinctive
|
|
| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
sift
|
|
| v.筛撒，纷落，详察 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
precepts
|
|
| n.规诫，戒律，箴言( precept的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
utterance
|
|
| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
fabulous
|
|
| adj.极好的；极为巨大的；寓言中的，传说中的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
embitter
|
|
| v.使苦；激怒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
juvenile
|
|
| n.青少年，少年读物；adj.青少年的，幼稚的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
attained
|
|
| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
immortality
|
|
| n.不死，不朽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
judgments
|
|
| 判断( judgment的名词复数 )； 鉴定； 评价； 审判 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
afflicted
|
|
| 使受痛苦，折磨( afflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
disorder
|
|
| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
apprehensions
|
|
| 疑惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
chamber
|
|
| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
drearier
|
|
| 使人闷闷不乐或沮丧的( dreary的比较级 )； 阴沉的； 令人厌烦的； 单调的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
73
solitude
|
|
| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
twilight
|
|
| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
alas
|
|
| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
miserable
|
|
| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
sobbing
|
|
| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
regaining
|
|
| 复得( regain的现在分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
enjoyments
|
|
| 愉快( enjoyment的名词复数 )； 令人愉快的事物； 享有； 享受 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
hardy
|
|
| adj.勇敢的，果断的，吃苦的；耐寒的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
ardent
|
|
| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
proficiency
|
|
| n.精通，熟练，精练 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
boisterous
|
|
| adj.喧闹的，欢闹的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
blessing
|
|
| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
simplicity
|
|
| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
sobs
|
|
| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |