There is a little village on the skirts of the Forest of Fontainebleau (heavenly region of springtime and romance!) where the crystal-green eddies12 of the Loing slip under an old gray bridge with sharp angled piers13 of stone. Near the bridge is a quiet little inn, one of the many happy places in that country long frequented by artists for painting and “villégiature.” Behind the inn is a garden beside the river-bank. The salle à manger, as in so many of those inns at Barbizon, Moret, and the other Fontainebleau villages, is panelled and frescoed14 with humorous and high-spirited impromptus15 done by visiting painters.
In the summer of 1876 an anxious rumour16 passed among the artist colonies. It was said that an American lady and her two children had arrived at Grez, and the young bohemians who regarded this region as their own sacred retreat were startled and alarmed. Were their chosen haunts to be invaded by tourists—and tourists of the disturbing sex? Among three happy irresponsibles this humorous anxiety was particularly acute. One of the trio was sent over to Grez as a scout17, to spy out the situation and report. The emissary went, and failed to[Pg 54] return. A second explorer was dispatched to study the problem. He, too, was swallowed up in silence. The third, impatiently waiting tidings from his faithless friends, set out to make an end of this mystery. He reached the inn at dusk: it was a gentle summer evening; the windows were open to the tender air; lamps were lit within, and a merry party sat at dinner. Through the open window the suspicious venturer saw the recreant18 ambassadors, gay with laughter. And there, sitting in the lamplight, was the American lady—a slender, thoughtful enchantress with eyes as dark and glowing as the wine. Thus it was that Robert Louis Stevenson first saw Fanny Osbourne.
A few days later Mrs. Osbourne's eighteen-year-old daughter Isobel wrote in a letter: “There is a young Scotchman here, a Mr. Stevenson. He is such a nice-looking ugly man, and I would rather listen to him talk than read the most interesting book.... Mama is ever so much better and is getting prettier every day.”
“The Life of Mrs. Robert Louis Stevenson,” written by her sister Mrs. Sanchez (the mother of “little Louis Sanchez on the beach at Monterey” remembered by lovers of “A Child's Garden of Verses”) is a book that none of the so-called idolaters will want to overlook. The romantic excitements of R. L. S.'s youth were tame indeed compared to those of Fanny Van de Grift. R. L. S. had[Pg 55] been thrilled enough by a few nights spent in the dark with the docile20 ass4 of the Cevennes; but here was one, sprung from sober Philadelphia blood, born in Indianapolis and baptized by Henry Ward7 Beecher, who had pioneered across the fabled21 Isthmus22, lived in the roaring mining camps of Nevada, worked for a dressmaker in Frisco, and venturously taken her young children to Belgium and France to study art. She had been married at seventeen, had already once thought herself to be a widow in fact by the temporary disappearance23 of her first husband; and was now, after enduring repeated infidelities, prepared to make herself a widow in law. Daring horse woman, a good shot, a supreme24 cook, artist, writer, and a very Gene2 Stratton Porter among flowers, fearless, beautiful, and of unique charm—where could another woman have been found so marvellously gifted to be the wife of a romancer? It seems odd that Philadelphia and Edinburgh, the two most conservatively minded cities of the Anglo-Saxon earth, should have combined to produce this, the most radiant pair of adventurers in our recent annals.
The reading of this delightful25 book has taken us back into the very pang26 and felicity of our first great passion—our idolatry, if you will—which we are proud here and now to re-avow. When was there ever a happier or more wholesome27 worship for a boy than the Stevenson mania28 on which so many of this[Pg 56] generation grew up? We were the luckier in that our zeal29 was shared in all its gusto and particularity by a lean, long-legged, sallow-faced, brown-eyed eccentric (himself incredibly Stevensonian in appearance) with whom we lay afield in our later teens, reading R. L. S. aloud by the banks of a small stream which we vowed30 should become famous in the world of letters. And so it has, though not by our efforts, which was what we had designed; for at the crystal headwater of that same creek31 was penned “The Amenities32 of Book Collecting,” that enchanting33 volume of bookish essays which has swelled34 the correspondence of a Philadelphia business man to insane proportions, and even brought him offers from three newspapers to conduct a book page. It seems appropriate to the present chronicler that in a quiet library overlooking the clear fount and origin of dear Darby Creek there are several of the most cherished association volumes of R. L. S.—we think particularly of the “Child's Garden of Verses” which he gave to Cummy, and the manuscript of little “Smoutie's” very first book, the “History of Moses.”
Was there ever a more joyous35 covenant36 of affection than that of Mifflin McGill and ourself in our boyish madness for Tusitala? It is a happy circumstance, we say, for a youth, before the multiplying responsibilities of maturity37 press upon him, to pour[Pg 57] out his enthusiasm in an obsession38 such as that; and when this passion can be shared and doubled and knitted in partnership39 with an equally freakish, insane, and innocent idiot (such as our generously mad friend Mifflin) admirable adventures are sure to follow. The quest begun on Darby Creek took us later on an all-summer progress among places in England and Scotland hallowed to us by association with R. L. S. Never, in any young lives past or to come, could there be an instant of purer excitement and glory than when, after bicycling hotly all day with the blue outline of Arthur's Seat apparently40 always receding41 before us, we trundled grimly into Auld42 Reekie and set out for the old Stevenson home at 17 Heriot Row, halting only to bestow43 our pneumatic steeds in the nearest and humblest available hostelry. There (for we found the house empty and “To Let”) we sat on the doorstep evening by evening, smoking in the long northern twilight44 and spinning our youthful dreams. This lust45 for hunting out our favourite author's footsteps even led one of the pair to a place perhaps never visited by any other Stevensonian pilgrim—old Cockfield Rectory, in Suffolk, where Mrs. Sitwell and Sidney Colvin first met the bright-eyed Scotch19 boy in 1873. The tracker of footprints remembers how kind were the then occupants of the old rectory, and how, in a daze46 of awe47, he trod the green and tranquil48 lawn and hastened to visit a cottage near by[Pg 58] where there was an ancient rustic49 who had been coachman at the rectory when R. L. S. stayed there, fabled to retain some pithy50 recollection. Alas51, the Suffolk ancient, eager enough to share tobacco and speech, would only mull over his memories of a previous rector, describing how it had fallen to him to prepare the good man for burial; how he smiled in death and his cheeks were as rosy52 as a babe's.
It would take many pages to narrate53 all the bypaths and happy excursions trod by these simple youths in their quest of the immortal54 Louis. The memories come bustling55, and one knows not where to stop. The supreme adventure, for one of the pair, lay in the kindness of Sir Sidney Colvin. To this prince of gentlemen and scholars one of these lads wrote, sending his letter (with subtle cunning) from a village in Suffolk only a few miles from Sir Sidney's boyhood home. He calculated that this might arouse the interest of Sir Sidney, whom he knew to be cruelly badgered with letters from enthusiasts56; and fortune turned in his favour, granting him numerous ecstatic visits to Sir Sidney and Lady Colvin and much unwarranted generosity57. But, since our mind has been turned in this direction by Mrs. Sanchez's book, it might be appropriate to add that one of the most thrilling moments in the crusade was a season of April days spent beside the green and stripling Loing, in the forest of Fontainebleau region, visiting those lovely French villages where R. L. S.[Pg 59] roamed as a young man, crowned by an afternoon at Grez. One remembers the old gray bridge across the eddying58 water, and the door of the inn where the young pilgrim lingered, trying to visualize59 scenes of thirty-five years before.
It is not mere60 idolatry when the hearts of the young are haunted by such spells. There was some real divinity behind the enchantment61, some marvellous essence that made all roads Tusitala trod the Road of Loving Hearts. In these matters we would trust the simple Samoans to come nearer the truth than our cynic friend in Greenwich Village. The magic of that great name abides62 unimpaired.
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1 cynical | |
adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的,不信世道向善的 | |
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2 gene | |
n.遗传因子,基因 | |
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3 genial | |
adj.亲切的,和蔼的,愉快的,脾气好的 | |
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4 ass | |
n.驴;傻瓜,蠢笨的人 | |
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5 impugned | |
v.非难,指谪( impugn的过去式和过去分词 );对…有怀疑 | |
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6 remains | |
n.剩余物,残留物;遗体,遗迹 | |
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7 ward | |
n.守卫,监护,病房,行政区,由监护人或法院保护的人(尤指儿童);vt.守护,躲开 | |
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8 assailed | |
v.攻击( assail的过去式和过去分词 );困扰;质问;毅然应对 | |
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9 shrugs | |
n.耸肩(以表示冷淡,怀疑等)( shrug的名词复数 ) | |
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10 shrug | |
v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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11 eloquent | |
adj.雄辩的,口才流利的;明白显示出的 | |
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12 eddies | |
(水、烟等的)漩涡,涡流( eddy的名词复数 ) | |
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13 piers | |
n.水上平台( pier的名词复数 );(常设有娱乐场所的)突堤;柱子;墙墩 | |
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14 frescoed | |
壁画( fresco的名词复数 ); 温壁画技法,湿壁画 | |
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15 impromptus | |
n.即兴曲( impromptu的名词复数 ) | |
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16 rumour | |
n.谣言,谣传,传闻 | |
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17 scout | |
n.童子军,侦察员;v.侦察,搜索 | |
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18 recreant | |
n.懦夫;adj.胆怯的 | |
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19 scotch | |
n.伤口,刻痕;苏格兰威士忌酒;v.粉碎,消灭,阻止;adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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20 docile | |
adj.驯服的,易控制的,容易教的 | |
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21 fabled | |
adj.寓言中的,虚构的 | |
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22 isthmus | |
n.地峡 | |
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23 disappearance | |
n.消失,消散,失踪 | |
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24 supreme | |
adj.极度的,最重要的;至高的,最高的 | |
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25 delightful | |
adj.令人高兴的,使人快乐的 | |
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26 pang | |
n.剧痛,悲痛,苦闷 | |
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27 wholesome | |
adj.适合;卫生的;有益健康的;显示身心健康的 | |
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28 mania | |
n.疯狂;躁狂症,狂热,癖好 | |
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29 zeal | |
n.热心,热情,热忱 | |
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30 vowed | |
起誓,发誓(vow的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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31 creek | |
n.小溪,小河,小湾 | |
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32 amenities | |
n.令人愉快的事物;礼仪;礼节;便利设施;礼仪( amenity的名词复数 );便利设施;(环境等的)舒适;(性情等的)愉快 | |
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33 enchanting | |
a.讨人喜欢的 | |
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34 swelled | |
增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 ); 肿胀; (使)凸出; 充满(激情) | |
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35 joyous | |
adj.充满快乐的;令人高兴的 | |
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36 covenant | |
n.盟约,契约;v.订盟约 | |
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37 maturity | |
n.成熟;完成;(支票、债券等)到期 | |
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38 obsession | |
n.困扰,无法摆脱的思想(或情感) | |
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39 partnership | |
n.合作关系,伙伴关系 | |
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40 apparently | |
adv.显然地;表面上,似乎 | |
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41 receding | |
v.逐渐远离( recede的现在分词 );向后倾斜;自原处后退或避开别人的注视;尤指问题 | |
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42 auld | |
adj.老的,旧的 | |
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43 bestow | |
v.把…赠与,把…授予;花费 | |
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44 twilight | |
n.暮光,黄昏;暮年,晚期,衰落时期 | |
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45 lust | |
n.性(淫)欲;渴(欲)望;vi.对…有强烈的欲望 | |
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46 daze | |
v.(使)茫然,(使)发昏 | |
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47 awe | |
n.敬畏,惊惧;vt.使敬畏,使惊惧 | |
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48 tranquil | |
adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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49 rustic | |
adj.乡村的,有乡村特色的;n.乡下人,乡巴佬 | |
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50 pithy | |
adj.(讲话或文章)简练的 | |
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51 alas | |
int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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52 rosy | |
adj.美好的,乐观的,玫瑰色的 | |
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53 narrate | |
v.讲,叙述 | |
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54 immortal | |
adj.不朽的;永生的,不死的;神的 | |
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55 bustling | |
adj.喧闹的 | |
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56 enthusiasts | |
n.热心人,热衷者( enthusiast的名词复数 ) | |
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57 generosity | |
n.大度,慷慨,慷慨的行为 | |
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58 eddying | |
涡流,涡流的形成 | |
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59 visualize | |
vt.使看得见,使具体化,想象,设想 | |
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60 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
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61 enchantment | |
n.迷惑,妖术,魅力 | |
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62 abides | |
容忍( abide的第三人称单数 ); 等候; 逗留; 停留 | |
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