A MAN whom I had known from my school-days, FrederickThistlethwayte, coming into a huge fortune when a subalternin a marching regiment1, had impulsively2 married a certainMiss Laura Bell. In her early days, when she made her firstappearance in London and in Paris, Laura Bell's extraordinarybeauty was as much admired by painters as by men of theworld. Amongst her reputed lovers were Dhuleep Singh, thefamous Marquis of Hertford, and Prince Louis Napoleon. Shewas the daughter of an Irish constable3, and began life on thestage at Dublin. Her Irish wit and sparkling merriment, hercajolery, her good nature and her feminine artifice4, wereattractions which, in the eyes of the male sex, fully5 atonedfor her youthful indiscretions.
My intimacy6 with both Mr. and Mrs. Thistlethwayte extendedover many years; and it is but justice to her memory to averthat, to the best of my belief, no wife was ever morefaithful to her husband. I speak of the Thistlethwaytes herefor two reasons - absolutely unconnected in themselves, yetboth interesting in their own way. The first is, that at myfriend's house in Grosvenor Square I used frequently to meetMr. Gladstone, sometimes alone, sometimes at dinner. As maybe supposed, the dinner parties were of men, but mostly ofmen eminent7 in public life. The last time I met Mr.
Gladstone there the Duke of Devonshire and Sir W. Harcourtwere both present. I once dined with Mrs. Thistlethwayte inthe absence of her husband, when the only others were Munroof Novar - the friend of Turner, and the envied possessor ofa splendid gallery of his pictures - and the Duke ofNewcastle - then a Cabinet Minister. Such were thenotabilities whom the famous beauty gathered about her.
But it is of Mr. Gladstone that I would say a word. Thefascination which he exercised over most of those who cameinto contact with him is incontestable; and everyone isentitled to his own opinion, even though unable to accountfor it. This, at least, must be my plea, for to me, Mr.
Gladstone was more or less a Dr. Fell. Neither in his publicnor in his private capacity had I any liking8 for him. Nobodycares a button for what a 'man in the street' like me says orthinks on subject matters upon which they have made up theirminds. I should not venture, even as one of the crowd, todeprecate a popularity which I believe to be fast passingaway, were it not that better judges and wiser men think as Ido, and have represented opinions which I sincerely share.
'He was born,' says Huxley, 'to be a leader of men, and hehas debased himself to be a follower9 of the masses. Ifworking men were to-day to vote by a majority that two andtwo made five, to-morrow Gladstone would believe it, and findthem reasons for it which they had never dreamt of.' Couldany words be truer? Yes; he was not born to be a leader ofmen. He was born to be, what he was - a misleader of men.
Huxley says he could be made to believe that two and two madefive. He would try to make others believe it; but would hehimself believe it? His friends will plead, 'he mightdeceive himself by the excessive subtlety10 of his mind.' Thisis the charitable view to take. But some who knew him longand well put another construction upon this facile self-deception. There were, and are, honourable11 men of thehighest standing12 who failed to ascribe disinterested13 motivesto the man who suddenly and secretly betrayed his colleagues,his party, and his closest friends, and tried to break up theEmpire to satisfy an inordinate14 ambition, and an insatiablecraving for power. 'He might have been mistaken, but heacted for the best'? Was he acting15 conscientiously16 for thebest in persuading the 'masses' to look upon the 'classes' -the war cries are of his coining - as their natural enemies,and worthy17 only of their envy and hatred18? Is this the partof a statesman, of a patriot19?
And for what else shall we admire Mr. Gladstone? WalterBagehot, alluding20 to his egotism, wrote of him in hislifetime, 'He longs to pour forth21 his own belief; he cannotrest till he has contradicted everyone else.' And what wasthat belief worth? 'He has scarcely,' says the same writer,'given us a sentence that lives in the memory.'
Even his eloquent22 advocate, Mr. Morley, confesses surprise athis indifference23 to the teaching of evolution; in otherwords, his ignorance of, and disbelief in, a scientifictheory of nature which has modified the theological and moralcreeds of the civilised world more profoundly than did theCopernican system of the Universe.
The truth is, Mr. Gladstone was half a century behind the agein everything that most deeply concerned the destiny of man.
He was a politician, and nothing but a politician; and had itnot been for his extraordinary gift of speech, we shouldnever have heard of him save as a writer of scholia, or as acollege don, perhaps. Not for such is the temple of Fame.
Fama di loro il mondo esser non lassa.
Whatever may be thought now, Mr. Gladstone is not the manwhom posterity25 will ennoble with the title of either 'great'
or 'good.'
My second reason for mentioning Frederick Thistlethwayte wasone which at first sight may seem trivial, and yet, when welook into it, is of more importance than the renown26 of an ex-Prime Minister. If these pages are ever read, what followswill be as distasteful to some of my own friends as the aboveremarks to Mr. Gladstone's.
Pardon a word about the writer himself - it is needed toemphasise and justify27 these OBITER DICTA. I was brought upas a sportsman: I cannot remember the days when I began toshoot. I had a passion for all kinds of sport, and have hadopportunities of gratifying it such as fall to the lot offew. After the shootings of Glenquoich and Invergarry werelost to me through the death of Mr. Ellice, I became almostthe sole guest of Mr. Thistlethwayte for twelve years at hisHighland shooting of Kinlochmohr, not very far from FortWilliam. He rented the splendid deer forest of Mamore,extensive grouse28 moors29, and a salmon30 river within tenminutes' walk of the lodge31. His marriage and hiseccentricities of mind and temper led him to shun32 allsociety. We often lived in bothies at opposite ends of theforest, returning to the lodge on Saturday till Mondaymorning. For a sportsman, no life could be more enjoyable.
I was my own stalker, taking a couple of gillies for theponies, but finding the deer for myself - always the mostdifficult part of the sport - and stalking them for myself.
I may here observe that, not very long after I married,qualms of conscience smote33 me as to the justifiability34 ofkilling, AND WOUNDING, animals for amusement's sake. Themore I thought of it, the less it bore thinking about.
Finally I gave it up altogether. But I went on several yearsafter this with the deer-stalking; the true explanation ofthis inconsistency would, I fear, be that I had had enough ofthe one, but would never have enough of the other - one'sconscience adapts itself without much difficulty to one'sinclinations.
Between my host and myself, there was a certain amount ofrivalry; and as the head forester was his stalker, therivalry between our men aroused rancorous jealousy36. I thinkthe gillies on either side would have spoilt the others'
sport, could they have done so with impunity37. For twoseasons, a very big stag used occasionally to find its wayinto our forest from the Black Mount, where it was alsoknown. Thistlethwayte had had a chance, and missed it; thenmy turn came. I got a long snap-shot end on at the gallopingstag. It was an unsportsmanlike thing to do, but consideringthe rivalry35 and other temptations I fired, and hit the beastin the haunch. It was late in the day, and the woundedanimal escaped.
Nine days later I spied the 'big stag' again. He was nearlyin the middle of a herd38 of about twenty, mostly hinds39, on thelook-out. They were on a large open moss40 at the bottom of acorrie, whence they could see a moving object on every sideof them. A stalk where they were was out of the question. Imade up my mind to wait and watch.
Now comes the moral of my story. For hours I watched thatstag. Though three hundred yards or so away from me, I couldthrough my glass see almost the expression of his face. Notonce did he rise or attempt to feed, but lay restlesslybeating his head upon the ground for hour after hour. I knewwell enough what that meant. I could not hear his groans41.
His plaints could not reach my ears, but they reached myheart. The refrain varied42 little: 'How long shall I cry andThou wilt43 not hear?' - that was the monotonous44 burden of themoans, though sometimes I fancied it changed to: 'Lord howlong shall the wicked, how long shall the wicked triumph?'
The evening came, and then, as is their habit, the deer beganto feed up wind. The wounded stag seemed loth to stir. Bydegrees the last watchful45 hind24 fed quietly out of sight.
With throbbing46 pulse and with the instincts of a fox - orprehistoric man, 'tis all the same - I crawled and draggedmyself through the peat bog47 and the pools of water. Butnearer than two hundred yards it was impossible to get; evento raise my head or find a tussock whereon to rest the riflewould have started any deer but this one. From the hollow Iwas in, the most I could see of him was the outline of hisback and his head and neck. I put up the 200 yards sight andkilled him.
A vivid description of the body is not desirable. It wasalmost fleshless, wasted away, except his wounded haunch.
That was nearly twice its normal size; about one half of itwas maggots. The stench drove us all away. This I had done,and I had done it for my pleasure!
After that year I went no more to Scotland. I blame no onefor his pursuit of sport. But I submit that he must followit, if at all, with Reason's eyes shut. Happily, your truesportsman does not violate his conscience. As a friend ofmine said to me the other day, 'Unless you give a man of thatkind something to kill, his own life is not worth having.'
This, to be sure, is all he has to think about.
1 regiment | |
n.团,多数,管理;v.组织,编成团,统制 | |
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2 impulsively | |
adv.冲动地 | |
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3 constable | |
n.(英国)警察,警官 | |
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4 artifice | |
n.妙计,高明的手段;狡诈,诡计 | |
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5 fully | |
adv.完全地,全部地,彻底地;充分地 | |
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6 intimacy | |
n.熟悉,亲密,密切关系,亲昵的言行 | |
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7 eminent | |
adj.显赫的,杰出的,有名的,优良的 | |
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8 liking | |
n.爱好;嗜好;喜欢 | |
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9 follower | |
n.跟随者;随员;门徒;信徒 | |
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10 subtlety | |
n.微妙,敏锐,精巧;微妙之处,细微的区别 | |
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11 honourable | |
adj.可敬的;荣誉的,光荣的 | |
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12 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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13 disinterested | |
adj.不关心的,不感兴趣的 | |
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14 inordinate | |
adj.无节制的;过度的 | |
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15 acting | |
n.演戏,行为,假装;adj.代理的,临时的,演出用的 | |
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16 conscientiously | |
adv.凭良心地;认真地,负责尽职地;老老实实 | |
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17 worthy | |
adj.(of)值得的,配得上的;有价值的 | |
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18 hatred | |
n.憎恶,憎恨,仇恨 | |
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19 patriot | |
n.爱国者,爱国主义者 | |
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20 alluding | |
提及,暗指( allude的现在分词 ) | |
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21 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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22 eloquent | |
adj.雄辩的,口才流利的;明白显示出的 | |
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23 indifference | |
n.不感兴趣,不关心,冷淡,不在乎 | |
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24 hind | |
adj.后面的,后部的 | |
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25 posterity | |
n.后裔,子孙,后代 | |
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26 renown | |
n.声誉,名望 | |
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27 justify | |
vt.证明…正当(或有理),为…辩护 | |
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28 grouse | |
n.松鸡;v.牢骚,诉苦 | |
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29 moors | |
v.停泊,系泊(船只)( moor的第三人称单数 ) | |
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30 salmon | |
n.鲑,大马哈鱼,橙红色的 | |
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31 lodge | |
v.临时住宿,寄宿,寄存,容纳;n.传达室,小旅馆 | |
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32 shun | |
vt.避开,回避,避免 | |
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33 smote | |
v.猛打,重击,打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
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34 justifiability | |
n.合理,可辩解 | |
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35 rivalry | |
n.竞争,竞赛,对抗 | |
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36 jealousy | |
n.妒忌,嫉妒,猜忌 | |
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37 impunity | |
n.(惩罚、损失、伤害等的)免除 | |
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38 herd | |
n.兽群,牧群;vt.使集中,把…赶在一起 | |
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39 hinds | |
n.(常指动物腿)后面的( hind的名词复数 );在后的;(通常与can或could连用)唠叨不停;滔滔不绝 | |
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40 moss | |
n.苔,藓,地衣 | |
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41 groans | |
n.呻吟,叹息( groan的名词复数 );呻吟般的声音v.呻吟( groan的第三人称单数 );发牢骚;抱怨;受苦 | |
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42 varied | |
adj.多样的,多变化的 | |
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43 wilt | |
v.(使)植物凋谢或枯萎;(指人)疲倦,衰弱 | |
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44 monotonous | |
adj.单调的,一成不变的,使人厌倦的 | |
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45 watchful | |
adj.注意的,警惕的 | |
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46 throbbing | |
a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
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47 bog | |
n.沼泽;室...陷入泥淖 | |
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