“MY dear Father,—I got in here last night, after a very painful and tiresome1 journey, at eleven o’clock. At least it was eleven o’clock by Calais time, but they are so careless in this country about their clocks that it would be very difficult to say what the right time really was were I not able to consult the excellent chronometer2 which you and Mamma were so kind as to give me after my success in the Schools at Oxford3 this summer. I confess to the childishness of having rung the chimes in it five or six times during the night to while away the tedium4 of the journey in the Diligence from Beauvais. Beauvais contains a really remarkable5 cathedral, but it is unfinished. I notice, indeed, that many of the buildings undertaken by the French remain in an incomplete condition. The Louvre, for instance (which is so near this hotel, and the roofs of which I can see from my window), would be a really fine building if it were completed, but this has never been done, and the total effect is very distressing6. I fancy it is the numerous wars, in which the unhappy people have been engaged at the caprice of their rulers, which have led to such[131] deplorable inconsequence. You have often warned me not to judge rashly upon a first impression, but I confess the people seem to me terribly poverty-stricken, especially in the country districts, where the children may often be seen hobbling about in rough wooden shoes, without stockings to their feet. I say no more. I hope, dear Papa, that when Parliament meets I shall be returned from Italy, and that I shall be able to follow your action in the House of Commons. You know how ardently8 I attend to the great struggle for Free Trade, to the attainment9 of which, as of every form of Righteousness, you have ever trained my early endeavours.
“I am, your affectionate son,
“Jo. Bilsted.”
“H?tel de Ferras, January 15, 1853.
“My dear Julia,—I write you a hurried note to tell you that I have left behind me, at Number Eleven, my second beaver10 hat. It is in the hatbox in the white cupboard on the landing outside the nursery door. Do not send anything else with it, as you were imprudent enough to do last time I asked you to despatch11 luggage; the Customs are very particular, and it is important for me just now, amid all these political troubles, not to have what the French call ‘histoires.’ I have really nothing to tell you more as to the condition of affairs, nor anything to add to the brief remarks in my last letter. Were I not connected by business ties with[132] the Continent nothing should tempt12 me to this kind of journey again. The train service is ridiculously slow, and there is a feeling of distress7 and ill-ease wherever one goes. It is truly amazing to me that any people, however stunted13 by centuries of oppression, should tolerate the form of government which has been recently set up by brute14 force in this unhappy country! Meanwhile, though everyone discusses politics, nothing is done, and the practical things of life are wholly neglected. The streets still remain the narrow, ill-lit thoroughfares which would be a disgrace to a small English provincial15 town, and the Army, so far as any civilian16 can judge, is worthless. The men slouch about with their hands in their pockets; the Cavalry17 sit their horses very badly; and even the escort of the ‘Emperor’ would look supremely18 ridiculous in any other surroundings. I have little doubt that if horse racing19 were more thoroughly20 developed the Equine Race would improve. As it is, the horses here are deplorable. I hope to persuade M. Behrens, who is one of the few sensible and clear-sighted men I have met during this visit, to accept our proposals, and I will write you further on the matter.
“Your affectionate husband,
“Jo. Bilsted.
“P.S.—I somewhat regret that you have accepted the invitation to the Children’s Party. However, I never interfere21 with you in these matters. I must,[133] however, positively22 forbid your taking little Charles, who, though he is eldest23, suffers, I fear, from a weak heart, inherited from your dear mother. I hope to return this day fortnight.”
“H?tel de Ferras, July 15, 1870.
“My dear Julia,—It was a matter of great regret to me that you should have been compelled to leave Paris a few days before myself; but I shall follow to-morrow, and hope to be at Number Eleven by Thursday at the latest. You will then have learned the terrible truth that war has been finally declared. Nothing could have more deeply impressed and oppressed me at the same time. The overwhelming military power which in better hands and under a proper guidance might have been turned to such noble uses is to be hurled24 against the insecure combination of German States which have recently been struggling, perfectly25 rightly in my opinion, to become One Great Nation; for I make no doubt that the lesser26 States will throw in their lot with Prussia: a menace to one is a menace to all. I write from the bottom of my heart (my dear Julia), when I say that I am convinced that after the first triumphs of this Man of Blood our own Government will speak with no uncertain voice, and will defend the new German people against the aggressor. It was sufficiently27 intolerable that his Italian policy should have been framed before our eyes, without intervention28, and that the unity29 of that ancient land should[134] be deferred30 through his insolence31. I have not borne to visit Rome since the hateful presence of a foreign garrison32 was established there. I will even go so far (perhaps against your own better judgment33) as to raise the matter in Parliament, but I greatly fear that the House will not be sitting when the most drastic action is needed. However, I repeat what I have said; I am confident in the ultimate Righteousness of our intervention. I am therefore confident that we shall not allow the further expansion of this Military Policy.
“As I write the garish34, over-lit fa?ades of this luxurious35 Babylon, its broad, straight streets, with their monotonous36 vulgar splendour, and the swarms37 of the military all round, fill me with foreboding. It would be a terrible thing if this very negation38 of True Civilisation39 and Religion were to triumph, and I am certain that unless we speak boldly we ourselves shall be the next victim. But we shall speak boldly.... My faith is firm.
“Your affectionate husband,
“Jo. Bilsted.
“P.S.—I am glad that Charles has got through his examination successfully. I hope he clearly understands that I have no intention of letting him be returned for Pensbury until a year has elapsed.”
“H?tel de Ferras, April 1, 1886.
“My dear Charles,—It was a filial thought in you to send a letter which would reach me upon my[135] sixtieth birthday, and believe me that, speaking as your father, I am not insensible to it.
“I wish you could come and see your mother and me if only for a few hours, but I know that your Parliamentary duties are heavier than ever; indeed, life in the House of Commons is not what it used to be! In my time it was often called ‘the best club in Europe.’ Alas40, no one can say that now! Meanwhile your mother and I are very happy pottering about our old haunts in Paris; but you have no idea, my dear Charles, how changed it all is! You can, of course, remember the Second Empire as a child, but to your mother and me, who were so intimate with Paris during its most brilliant period, there is something tragic41 in the sight of this great capital since the awful chastisement42 of fifteen years ago. We ought not, of course, to judge foreign nations too harshly, but after no inconsiderable experience of Parliamentary life I cannot but have the most gloomy forebodings as to the future of this nation. There seems no settled policy of any kind. Yesterday I attended a debate in the Chamber43, but the various speakers articulated so rapidly that I was not able to follow them with any precision. It is surely an error to pour out torrents44 of words in this fashion, and I cannot believe there is any mature thought behind it at all. I regret to say that the practice of duelling, though denounced by all the best thought in the country, is still rife45, and nowhere do occasions for its exercise arise more frequently[136] than in the undisciplined political life of this capital. One must not, however, look only on the dark side; there are certainly some very fine new buildings springing up, especially in the American quarter towards the Arc de Triomphe. Of course your mother and I keep to the old H?tel de Ferras. We are at an age now when one does not easily change one’s habits, but it seems to me positively dingy46 compared with some of these new great palaces. It is a comfort, however, to deal with people who know what an English banknote is, and who will take an English cheque, and who can address one properly on the outside of an envelope. It amused your dear mother to see how quickly they seized the new honour which her Majesty47 has so graciously conferred upon me.
“Your affectionate father,
“Jo. Bilsted.”
“H?tel de Ferras, October 19, 1906.
“My dear Charles,—I cannot tell you how warmly I agree with your last letter upon the state of Europe. I am an old man, I have seen many men and things, and I have been particularly familiar with foreign policy ever since I first entered the House of Commons, now nearly fifty years ago, but rarely have I known a moment more critical than the present. My one comfort lies in the fact that in spite of the divisions of Party, the heart of the nation is still sound, and the leaven48 of common sense in[137] the electors will save us yet. I feel a shade of regret sometimes to think that the division no longer retains its old name; I should like to feel that, father and son, we had held it for three generations, but though the name has changed, the spirit of the place is the same.... I beg you to mark my words; I may say without boasting that I have rarely been wrong in my judgment of foreign affairs. When one sees things here one sometimes trembles for the future.
“This Hotel is not at all what it was. It is ill-kept and damp, and I shall not return to it.
“Expect me in London before the end of the week.
“Penshurst.”
[Lord Penshurst died shortly after his return to London. He was succeeded by his son Charles, second Baron49, but the Division is still represented by a member of the family in the person of Mr. George Bilstead, his second son, the husband of Mrs. Bilstead, and author of The Coming Struggle in the Balkans.]
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1
tiresome
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| adj.令人疲劳的，令人厌倦的 | |
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chronometer
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| n.精密的计时器 | |
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Oxford
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| n.牛津（英国城市） | |
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tedium
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| n.单调；烦闷 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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distressing
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| a.使人痛苦的 | |
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distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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ardently
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| adv.热心地，热烈地 | |
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attainment
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| n.达到，到达；［常pl.］成就，造诣 | |
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beaver
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| n.海狸，河狸 | |
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despatch
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| n./v.(dispatch)派遣；发送；n.急件；新闻报道 | |
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tempt
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| vt.引诱，勾引，吸引，引起…的兴趣 | |
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stunted
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| adj.矮小的；发育迟缓的 | |
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brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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provincial
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| adj.省的，地方的；n．外省人，乡下人 | |
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civilian
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| adj.平民的，民用的，民众的 | |
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cavalry
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| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
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supremely
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| adv.无上地，崇高地 | |
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racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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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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eldest
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| adj.最年长的，最年老的 | |
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hurled
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| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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lesser
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| adj.次要的，较小的；adv.较小地，较少地 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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intervention
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| n.介入，干涉，干预 | |
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unity
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| n.团结，联合，统一；和睦，协调 | |
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deferred
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| adj.延期的，缓召的v.拖延，延缓，推迟( defer的过去式和过去分词 )；服从某人的意愿，遵从 | |
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insolence
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| n.傲慢；无礼；厚颜；傲慢的态度 | |
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garrison
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| n.卫戍部队；驻地，卫戍区；vt.派(兵)驻防 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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garish
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| adj.华丽而俗气的，华而不实的 | |
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luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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swarms
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| 蜂群，一大群( swarm的名词复数 ) | |
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negation
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| n.否定；否认 | |
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civilisation
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| n.文明，文化，开化，教化 | |
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alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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42
chastisement
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| n.惩罚 | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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torrents
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| n.倾注；奔流( torrent的名词复数 )；急流；爆发；连续不断 | |
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45
rife
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| adj.(指坏事情)充斥的，流行的，普遍的 | |
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dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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47
majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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48
leaven
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| v.使发酵；n.酵母；影响 | |
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49
baron
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| n.男爵；(商业界等)巨头，大王 | |
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