A dialogue between Mr Abraham Adams and his host, which, by the disagreement in their opinions, seemed to threaten an unlucky catastrophe1, had it not been timely prevented by the return of the lovers.
“Sir,” said the host, “I assure you you are not the first to whom our squire2 hath promised more than he hath performed. He is so famous for this practice, that his word will not be taken for much by those who know him. I remember a young fellow whom he promised his parents to make an exciseman. The poor people, who could ill afford it, bred their son to writing and accounts, and other learning to qualify him for the place; and the boy held up his head above his condition with these hopes; nor would he go to plough, nor to any other kind of work, and went constantly drest as fine as could be, with two clean Holland shirts a week, and this for several years; till at last he followed the squire up to London, thinking there to mind him of his promises; but he could never get sight of him. So that, being out of money and business, he fell into evil company and wicked courses; and in the end came to a sentence of transportation, the news of which broke the mother’s heart. — I will tell you another true story of him. There was a neighbour of mine, a farmer, who had two sons whom he bred up to the business. Pretty lads they were. Nothing would serve the squire but that the youngest must be made a parson. Upon which he persuaded the father to send him to school, promising4 that he would afterwards maintain him at the university, and, when he was of a proper age, give him a living. But after the lad had been seven years at school, and his father brought him to the squire, with a letter from his master that he was fit for the university, the squire, instead of minding his promise, or sending him thither5 at his expense, only told his father that the young man was a fine scholar, and it was pity he could not afford to keep him at Oxford6 for four or five years more, by which time, if he could get him a curacy, he might have him ordained7. The farmer said, ‘He was not a man sufficient to do any such thing.’ — ‘Why, then,’ answered the squire, ‘I am very sorry you have given him so much learning; for, if he cannot get his living by that, it will rather spoil him for anything else; and your other son, who can hardly write his name, will do more at ploughing and sowing, and is in a better condition, than he.’ And indeed so it proved; for the poor lad, not finding friends to maintain him in his learning, as he had expected, and being unwilling8 to work, fell to drinking, though he was a very sober lad before; and in a short time, partly with grief, and partly with good liquor, fell into a consumption, and died. — Nay9, I can tell you more still: there was another, a young woman, and the handsomest in all this neighbourhood, whom he enticed10 up to London, promising to make her a gentlewoman to one of your women of quality; but, instead of keeping his word, we have since heard, after having a child by her himself, she became a common whore; then kept a coffeehouse in Covent Garden; and a little after died of the French distemper in a gaol11. — I could tell you many more stories; but how do you imagine he served me myself? You must know, sir, I was bred a seafaring man, and have been many voyages; till at last I came to be master of a ship myself, and was in a fair way of making a fortune, when I was attacked by one of those cursed guarda-costas who took our ships before the beginning of the war; and after a fight, wherein I lost the greater part of my crew, my rigging being all demolished12, and two shots received between wind and water, I was forced to strike. The villains13 carried off my ship, a brigantine of 150 tons — a pretty creature she was — and put me, a man, and a boy, into a little bad pink, in which, with much ado, we at last made Falmouth; though I believe the Spaniards did not imagine she could possibly live a day at sea. Upon my return hither, where my wife, who was of this country, then lived, the squire told me he was so pleased with the defence I had made against the enemy, that he did not fear getting me promoted to a lieutenancy14 of a man-of-war, if I would accept of it; which I thankfully assured him I would. Well, sir, two or three years passed, during which I had many repeated promises, not only from the squire, but (as he told me) from the lords of the admiralty. He never returned from London but I was assured I might be satisfied now, for I was certain of the first vacancy15; and, what surprizes me still, when I reflect on it, these assurances were given me with no less confidence, after so many disappointments, than at first. At last, sir, growing weary, and somewhat suspicious, after so much delay, I wrote to a friend in London, who I knew had some acquaintance at the best house in the admiralty, and desired him to back the squire’s interest; for indeed I feared he had solicited16 the affair with more coldness than he pretended. And what answer do you think my friend sent me? Truly, sir, he acquainted me that the squire had never mentioned my name at the admiralty in his life; and, unless I had much faithfuller interest, advised me to give over my pretensions17; which I immediately did, and, with the concurrence18 of my wife, resolved to set up an alehouse, where you are heartily19 welcome; and so my service to you; and may the squire, and all such sneaking21 rascals22, go to the devil together.” — “O fie!” says Adams, “O fie! He is indeed a wicked man; but G— will, I hope, turn his heart to repentance23. Nay, if he could but once see the meanness of this detestable vice20; would he but once reflect that he is one of the most scandalous as well as pernicious lyars; sure he must despise himself to so intolerable a degree, that it would be impossible for him to continue a moment in such a course. And to confess the truth, notwithstanding the baseness of this character, which he hath too well deserved, he hath in his countenance24 sufficient symptoms of that bona indoles, that sweetness of disposition25, which furnishes out a good Christian26.” — “Ah, master! master!” says the host, “if you had travelled as far as I have, and conversed27 with the many nations where I have traded, you would not give any credit to a man’s countenance. Symptoms in his countenance, quotha! I would look there, perhaps, to see whether a man had the small-pox, but for nothing else.” He spoke28 this with so little regard to the parson’s observation, that it a good deal nettled29 him; and, taking the pipe hastily from his mouth, he thus answered: “Master of mine, perhaps I have travelled a great deal farther than you without the assistance of a ship. Do you imagine sailing by different cities or countries is travelling? No.
“Caelum non animum mutant qui trans mare30 currunt.
“I can go farther in an afternoon than you in a twelvemonth. What, I suppose you have seen the Pillars of Hercules, and perhaps the walls of Carthage. Nay, you may have heard Scylla, and seen Charybdis; you may have entered the closet where Archimedes was found at the taking of Syracuse. I suppose you have sailed among the Cyclades, and passed the famous straits which take their name from the unfortunate Helle, whose fate is sweetly described by Apollonius Rhodius; you have passed the very spot, I conceive, where Daedalus fell into that sea, his waxen wings being melted by the sun; you have traversed the Euxine sea, I make no doubt; nay, you may have been on the banks of the Caspian, and called at Colchis, to see if there is ever another golden fleece.” “Not I, truly, master,” answered the host: “I never touched at any of these places.” — “But I have been at all these,” replied Adams. “Then, I suppose,” cries the host, “you have been at the East Indies; for there are no such, I will be sworn, either in the West or the Levant.” — “Pray where’s the Levant?” quoth Adams; “that should be in the East Indies by right.” “Oho! you are a pretty traveller,” cries the host, “and not know the Levant! My service to you, master; you must not talk of these things with me! you must not tip us the traveller; it won’t go here.” “Since thou art so dull to misunderstand me still,” quoth Adams, “I will inform thee; the travelling I mean is in books, the only way of travelling by which any knowledge is to be acquired. From them I learn what I asserted just now, that nature generally imprints31 such a portraiture32 of the mind in the countenance, that a skilful33 physiognomist will rarely be deceived. I presume you have never read the story of Socrates to this purpose, and therefore I will tell it you. A certain physiognomist asserted of Socrates, that he plainly discovered by his features that he was a rogue34 in his nature. A character so contrary to the tenour of all this great man’s actions, and the generally received opinion concerning him, incensed35 the boys of Athens so that they threw stones at the physiognomist, and would have demolished him for his ignorance, had not Socrates himself prevented them by confessing the truth of his observations, and acknowledging that, though he corrected his disposition by philosophy, he was indeed naturally as inclined to vice as had been predicated of him. Now, pray resolve me — How should a man know this story if he had not read it?” “Well, master,” said the host, “and what signifies it whether a man knows it or no? He who goes abroad, as I have done, will always have opportunities enough of knowing the world without troubling his head with Socrates, or any such fellows.” “Friend,” cries Adams, “if a man should sail round the world, and anchor in every harbour of it, without learning, he would return home as ignorant as he went out.” “Lord help you!” answered the host; “there was my boatswain, poor fellow! he could scarce either write or read, and yet he would navigate36 a ship with any master of a man-of-war; and a very pretty knowledge of trade he had too.” “Trade,” answered Adams, “as Aristotle proves in his first chapter of Politics, is below a philosopher, and unnatural37 as it is managed now.” The host looked stedfastly at Adams, and after a minute’s silence asked him, “If he was one of the writers of the Gazetteers38? for I have heard,” says he, “they are writ3 by parsons.” “Gazetteers!” answered Adams, “what is that?” “It is a dirty newspaper,” replied the host, “which hath been given away all over the nation for these many years, to abuse trade and honest men, which I would not suffer to lye on my table, though it hath been offered me for nothing.” “Not I truly,” said Adams; “I never write anything but sermons; and I assure you I am no enemy to trade, whilst it is consistent with honesty; nay, I have always looked on the tradesman as a very valuable member of society, and, perhaps, inferior to none but the man of learning.” “No, I believe he is not, nor to him neither,” answered the host. “Of what use would learning be in a country without trade? What would all you parsons do to clothe your backs and feed your bellies39? Who fetches you your silks, and your linens40, and your wines, and all the other necessaries of life? I speak chiefly with regard to the sailors.” “You should say the extravagancies of life,” replied the parson; “but admit they were the necessaries, there is something more necessary than life itself, which is provided by learning; I mean the learning of the clergy41. Who clothes you with piety42, meekness43, humility44, charity, patience, and all the other Christian virtues45? Who feeds your souls with the milk of brotherly love, and diets them with all the dainty food of holiness, which at once cleanses46 them of all impure47 carnal affections, and fattens48 them with the truly rich spirit of grace? Who doth this?” “Ay, who, indeed?” cries the host; “for I do not remember ever to have seen any such clothing or such feeding. And so, in the mean time, master, my service to you.” Adams was going to answer with some severity, when Joseph and Fanny returned and pressed his departure so eagerly that he would not refuse them; and so, grasping his crabstick, he took leave of his host (neither of them being so well pleased with each other as they had been at their first sitting down together), and with Joseph and Fanny, who both expressed much impatience49, departed, and now all together renewed their journey.
收听单词发音 |
1
catastrophe
|
|
| n.大灾难，大祸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
squire
|
|
| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
writ
|
|
| n.命令状，书面命令 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
promising
|
|
| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
thither
|
|
| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
Oxford
|
|
| n.牛津（英国城市） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
ordained
|
|
| v.任命（某人）为牧师( ordain的过去式和过去分词 )；授予（某人）圣职；（上帝、法律等）命令；判定 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
unwilling
|
|
| adj.不情愿的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
nay
|
|
| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
enticed
|
|
| 诱惑，怂恿( entice的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
gaol
|
|
| n.(jail)监狱；(不加冠词)监禁；vt.使…坐牢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
demolished
|
|
| v.摧毁( demolish的过去式和过去分词 )；推翻；拆毁（尤指大建筑物）；吃光 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
villains
|
|
| n.恶棍( villain的名词复数 )；罪犯；（小说、戏剧等中的）反面人物；淘气鬼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
lieutenancy
|
|
| n.中尉之职，代理官员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
vacancy
|
|
| n.（旅馆的）空位，空房，（职务的）空缺 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
solicited
|
|
| v.恳求( solicit的过去式和过去分词 )；（指娼妇）拉客；索求；征求 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
pretensions
|
|
| 自称( pretension的名词复数 )； 自命不凡； 要求； 权力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
concurrence
|
|
| n.同意；并发 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
heartily
|
|
| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
vice
|
|
| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
sneaking
|
|
| a.秘密的，不公开的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
rascals
|
|
| 流氓( rascal的名词复数 )； 无赖； （开玩笑说法）淘气的人（尤指小孩）； 恶作剧的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
repentance
|
|
| n.懊悔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
countenance
|
|
| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
disposition
|
|
| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
Christian
|
|
| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
conversed
|
|
| v.交谈，谈话( converse的过去式 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
spoke
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
nettled
|
|
| v.拿荨麻打，拿荨麻刺（nettle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
mare
|
|
| n.母马，母驴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
imprints
|
|
| n.压印( imprint的名词复数 )；痕迹；持久影响 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
portraiture
|
|
| n.肖像画法 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
skilful
|
|
| (=skillful)adj.灵巧的，熟练的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
rogue
|
|
| n.流氓；v.游手好闲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
incensed
|
|
| 盛怒的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
navigate
|
|
| v.航行，飞行；导航，领航 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
unnatural
|
|
| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
gazetteers
|
|
| n.地名索引，地名词典( gazetteer的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
bellies
|
|
| n.肚子( belly的名词复数 )；腹部；（物体的）圆形或凸起部份；腹部…形的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
linens
|
|
| n.亚麻布( linen的名词复数 )；家庭日用织品 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
clergy
|
|
| n.[总称]牧师，神职人员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
piety
|
|
| n.虔诚，虔敬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
meekness
|
|
| n.温顺，柔和 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
humility
|
|
| n.谦逊，谦恭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
virtues
|
|
| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
cleanses
|
|
| 弄干净，清洗( cleanse的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
impure
|
|
| adj.不纯净的，不洁的；不道德的，下流的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
fattens
|
|
| v.喂肥( fatten的第三人称单数 )；养肥（牲畜）；使（钱）增多；使（公司）升值 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
impatience
|
|
| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |