He knew, however, nothing of natural history, and in particular of himself, of the mechanism3 of the body and mind, through which his soul had to express and fulfil itself. Not one word of information about either physiology4 or psychology5 had ever been breathed to him, nor had it ever occurred to any one around him that such information was needful. And as no one had tried to explain to him the mysteries which he carried about with him inside that fair skin of his, so no one had tried to explain to him the mysteries by which he was hemmed6 in, either mystically through religion, or rationally through philosophy. Never in chapel7 or at Sunday school had a difficulty been genuinely faced. And as for philosophy, he had not the slightest conception of what it meant. He imagined that a philosopher was one who made the best of a bad job, and he had never heard the word used in any other sense. He had great potential intellectual curiosity, but nobody had thought to stimulate8 it by even casually9 telling him that the finest minds of humanity had been trying to systematise the mysteries for quite twenty-five centuries. Of physical science he had been taught nothing, save a grotesque10 perversion11 to the effect that gravity was a force which drew things towards the centre of the earth. In the matter of chemistry it had been practically demonstrated to him scores of times, so that he should never forget this grand basic truth, that sodium12 and potassium may be relied upon to fizz flamingly about on a surface of water. Of geology he was perfectly13 ignorant, though he lived in a district whose whole livelihood14 depended on the scientific use of geological knowledge, and though the existence of Oldcastle itself was due to a freak of the earth’s crust which geologists16 call a “fault.”
Two.
Geography had been one of his strong points. He was aware of the rivers of Asia in their order, and of the principal products of Uruguay; and he could name the capitals of nearly all the United States. But he had never been instructed for five minutes in the geography of his native county, of which he knew neither the boundaries nor the rivers nor the terrene characteristics. He could have drawn17 a map of the Orinoco, but he could not have found the Trent in a day’s march; he did not even know where his drinking-water came from. That geographical18 considerations are the cause of all history had never been hinted to him, nor that history bears immediately upon modern life and bore on his own life. For him history hung unsupported and unsupporting in the air. In the course of his school career he had several times approached the nineteenth century, but it seemed to him that for administrative19 reasons he was always being dragged back again to the Middle Ages. Once his form had “got” as far as the infancy21 of his own father, and concerning this period he had learnt that “great dissatisfaction prevailed among the labouring classes, who were led to believe by mischievous22 demagogues,” etcetera. But the next term he was recoiling23 round Henry the Eighth, who “was a skilful24 warrior25 and politician,” but “unfortunate in his domestic relations;” and so to Elizabeth, than whom “few sovereigns have been so much belied27, but her character comes out unscathed after the closest examination.” History indeed resolved itself into a series of more or less sanguinary events arbitrarily grouped under the names of persons who had to be identified with the assistance of numbers. Neither of the development of national life, nor of the clash of nations, did he really know anything that was not inessential and anecdotic. He could not remember the clauses of Magna Charta, but he knew eternally that it was signed at a place amusingly called Runnymede. And the one fact engraved28 on his memory about the battle of Waterloo was that it was fought on a Sunday.
And as he had acquired absolutely nothing about political economy or about logic15, and was therefore at the mercy of the first agreeable sophistry29 that might take his fancy by storm, his unfitness to commence the business of being a citizen almost reached perfection.
Three.
For his personal enjoyment30 of the earth and air and sun and stars, and of society and solitude31, no preparation had been made, or dreamt of. The sentiment of nature had never been encouraged in him, or even mentioned. He knew not how to look at a landscape nor at a sky. Of plants and trees he was as exquisitely32 ignorant as of astronomy. It had not occurred to him to wonder why the days are longer in summer, and he vaguely33 supposed that the cold of winter was due to an increased distance of the earth from the sun. Still, he had learnt that Saturn34 had a ring, and sometimes he unconsciously looked for it in the firmament35, as for a tea-tray.
Of art, and the arts, he had been taught nothing. He had never seen a great picture or statue, nor heard great orchestral or solo music; and he had no idea that architecture was an art and emotional, though it moved him in a very peculiar36 fashion. Of the art of English literature, or of any other literature, he had likewise been taught nothing. But he knew the meaning of a few obsolete37 words in a few plays of Shakespeare. He had not learnt how to express himself orally in any language, but through hard drilling he was so genuinely erudite in accidence and syntax that he could parse38 and analyse with superb assurance the most magnificent sentences of Milton, Virgil, and Racine. This skill, together with an equal skill in utilising the elementary properties of numbers and geometrical figures, was the most brilliant achievement of his long apprenticeship39.
And now his education was finished. It had cost his father twenty-eight shillings a term, or four guineas a year, and no trouble. In younger days his father had spent more money and far more personal attention on the upbringing of a dog. His father had enjoyed success with dogs through treating them as individuals. But it had not happened to him, nor to anybody in authority, to treat Edwin as an individual. Nevertheless it must not be assumed that Edwin’s father was a callous40 and conscienceless brute41, and Edwin a martyr42 of neglect. Old Clayhanger was, on the contrary, an average upright and respectable parent who had given his son a thoroughly sound education, and Edwin had had the good fortune to receive that thoroughly sound education, as a preliminary to entering the world.
Four.
He was very far from realising the imperfections of his equipment for the grand entry; but still he was not without uneasiness. In particular the conversation incident to the canal-boat wager43 was disturbing him. It amazed him, as he reflected, that he should have remained, to such an advanced age, in a state of ignorance concerning the origin of the clay from which the crocks of his native district were manufactured. That the Sunday should have been able to inform him did not cause him any shame, for he guessed from the peculiar eager tone of voice in which the facts had been delivered, that the Sunday was merely retailing45 some knowledge recently acquired by chance. He knew all the Sunday’s tones of voice; and he also was well aware that the Sunday’s brain was not on the whole better stored than his own. Further, the Sunday was satisfied with his bit of accidental knowledge. Edwin was not. Edwin wanted to know why, if the clay for making earthenware46 was not got in the Five Towns, the Five Towns had become the great seat of the manufacture. Why were not pots made in the South, where the clay came from? He could not think of any answer to this enigma47, nor of any means of arriving by himself at an answer. The feeling was that he ought to have been able to arrive at the answer as at the answer to an equation.
He did not definitely blame his education; he did not think clearly about the thing at all. But, as a woman with a vague discomfort48 dimly fears cancer, so he dimly feared that there might be something fundamentally unsound in this sound education of his. And he had remorse49 for all the shirking that he had been guilty of during all his years at school. He shook his head solemnly at the immense and nearly universal shirking that continually went on. He could only acquit50 three or four boys, among the hundreds he had known, of the shameful51 sin. And all that he could say in favour of himself was that there were many worse than Edwin Clayhanger. Not merely the boys, but the masters, were sinners. Only two masters could he unreservedly respect as having acted conscientiously52 up to their pretensions53, and one of these was an unpleasant brute. All the cleverness, the ingenuities54, the fakes, the insincerities, the incapacitaties, the vanities, and the dishonesties of the rest stood revealed to him, and he judged them by the mere44 essential force of character alone. A schoolmaster might as well attempt to deceive God as a boy who is watching him every day with the inhuman55 eye of youth.
“All this must end now!” he said to himself, meaning all that could be included in the word “shirk.”
Five.
He was splendidly serious. He was as splendidly serious as a reformer. By a single urgent act of thought he would have made himself a man, and changed imperfection into perfection. He desired—and there was real passion in his desire—to do his best, to exhaust himself in doing his best, in living according to his conscience. He did not know of what he was capable, nor what he could achieve. Achievement was not the matter of his desire; but endeavour, honest and terrific endeavour. He admitted to himself his shortcomings, and he did not under-estimate the difficulties that lay before him; but he said, thinking of his father: “Surely he’ll see I mean business! Surely he’s bound to give in when he sees how much in earnest I am!” He was convinced, almost, that passionate56 faith could move mountainous fathers.
“I’ll show ’em!” he muttered.
And he meant that he would show the world... He was honouring the world; he was paying the finest homage57 to it. In that head of his a flame burnt that was like an altar-fire, a miraculous58 and beautiful phenomenon, than which nothing is more miraculous nor more beautiful over the whole earth. Whence had it suddenly sprung, that flame? After years of muddy inefficiency59, of contentedness60 with the second-rate and the dishonest, that flame astoundingly bursts forth61, from a hidden, unheeded spark that none had ever thought to blow upon. It bursts forth out of a damp jungle of careless habits and negligence62 that could not possibly have fed it. There is little to encourage it. The very architecture of the streets shows that environment has done naught63 for it: ragged20 brickwork, walls finished anyhow with saggars and slag64; narrow uneven65 alleys66 leading to higgledy-piggledy workshops and kilns67; cottages transformed into factories and factories into cottages, clumsily, hastily, because nothing matters so long as “it will do;” everywhere something forced to fulfil, badly, the function of something else; in brief, the reign26 of the slovenly68 makeshift, shameless, filthy69, and picturesque70. Edwin himself seemed no tabernacle for that singular flame. He was not merely untidy and dirty—at his age such defects might have excited in a sane71 observer uneasiness by their absence; but his gestures and his gait were untidy. He did not mind how he walked. All his sprawling72 limbs were saying: “What does it matter, so long as we get there?” The angle of the slatternly bag across his shoulders was an insult to the flame. And yet the flame burned with serene73 and terrible pureness.
It was surprising that no one saw it passing along the mean, black, smoke-palled streets that huddle74 about Saint Luke’s Church. Sundry75 experienced and fat old women were standing76 or sitting at their cottage doors, one or two smoking cutties. But even they, who in child-bed and at gravesides had been at the very core of life for long years, they, who saw more than most, could only see a fresh lad passing along, with fair hair and a clear complexion77, and gawky knees and elbows, a fierce, rapt expression on his straightforward78, good-natured face. Some knew that it was “Clayhanger’s lad,” a nice-behaved young gentleman, and the spitten image of his poor mother. They all knew what a lad is—the feel of his young skin under his “duds,” the capricious freedom of his movements, his sudden madnesses and shoutings and tendernesses, and the exceeding power of his unconscious wistful charm. They could divine all that in a glance. But they could not see the mysterious and holy flame of the desire for self-perfection blazing within that tousled head. And if Edwin had suspected that anybody could indeed perceive it, he would have whipped it out for shame, though the repudiation79 had meant everlasting80 death. Such is youth in the Five Towns, if not elsewhere.
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1
armour
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| （=armor）n.盔甲；装甲部队 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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mechanism
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| n.机械装置；机构，结构 | |
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physiology
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| n.生理学，生理机能 | |
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psychology
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| n.心理，心理学，心理状态 | |
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hemmed
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| 缝…的褶边( hem的过去式和过去分词 )； 包围 | |
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7
chapel
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| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
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8
stimulate
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| vt.刺激，使兴奋；激励，使…振奋 | |
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casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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grotesque
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| adj.怪诞的，丑陋的；n.怪诞的图案，怪人（物） | |
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perversion
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| n.曲解；堕落；反常 | |
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sodium
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| n.（化）钠 | |
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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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14
livelihood
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| n.生计，谋生之道 | |
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15
logic
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| n.逻辑(学)；逻辑性 | |
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16
geologists
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| 地质学家，地质学者( geologist的名词复数 ) | |
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17
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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18
geographical
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| adj.地理的；地区(性)的 | |
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administrative
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| adj.行政的，管理的 | |
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ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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infancy
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| n.婴儿期；幼年期；初期 | |
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22
mischievous
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| adj.调皮的，恶作剧的，有害的，伤人的 | |
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23
recoiling
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| v.畏缩( recoil的现在分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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24
skilful
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| (=skillful)adj.灵巧的，熟练的 | |
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warrior
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| n.勇士，武士，斗士 | |
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reign
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| n.统治时期，统治，支配，盛行；v.占优势 | |
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27
belied
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| v.掩饰( belie的过去式和过去分词 )；证明（或显示）…为虚假；辜负；就…扯谎 | |
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28
engraved
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| v.在（硬物）上雕刻（字，画等）( engrave的过去式和过去分词 )；将某事物深深印在（记忆或头脑中） | |
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29
sophistry
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| n.诡辩 | |
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30
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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31
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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32
exquisitely
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| adv.精致地；强烈地；剧烈地；异常地 | |
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33
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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34
Saturn
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| n.农神，土星 | |
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35
firmament
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| n.苍穹；最高层 | |
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36
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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obsolete
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| adj.已废弃的，过时的 | |
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38
parse
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| v.从语法上分析；n.从语法上分析 | |
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39
apprenticeship
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| n.学徒身份；学徒期 | |
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40
callous
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| adj.无情的，冷淡的，硬结的，起老茧的 | |
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brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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42
martyr
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| n.烈士，殉难者；vt.杀害，折磨，牺牲 | |
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43
wager
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| n.赌注；vt.押注，打赌 | |
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44
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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45
retailing
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| n.零售业v.零售(retail的现在分词) | |
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46
earthenware
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| n.土器，陶器 | |
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47
enigma
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| n.谜，谜一样的人或事 | |
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48
discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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50
acquit
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| vt.宣判无罪；(oneself)使(自己)表现出 | |
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51
shameful
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| adj.可耻的，不道德的 | |
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52
conscientiously
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| adv.凭良心地；认真地，负责尽职地；老老实实 | |
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53
pretensions
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| 自称( pretension的名词复数 )； 自命不凡； 要求； 权力 | |
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54
ingenuities
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| 足智多谋，心灵手巧( ingenuity的名词复数 ) | |
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55
inhuman
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| adj.残忍的，不人道的，无人性的 | |
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56
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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homage
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| n.尊敬，敬意，崇敬 | |
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miraculous
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| adj.像奇迹一样的，不可思议的 | |
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inefficiency
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| n.无效率，无能；无效率事例 | |
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contentedness
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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negligence
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| n.疏忽，玩忽，粗心大意 | |
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naught
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| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
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slag
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| n.熔渣，铁屑，矿渣；v.使变成熔渣，变熔渣 | |
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uneven
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| adj.不平坦的，不规则的，不均匀的 | |
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alleys
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| 胡同，小巷( alley的名词复数 )； 小径 | |
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kilns
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| n.窑( kiln的名词复数 )；烧窑工人 | |
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slovenly
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| adj.懒散的，不整齐的，邋遢的 | |
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filthy
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| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
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picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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sane
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| adj.心智健全的，神志清醒的，明智的，稳健的 | |
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72
sprawling
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| adj.蔓生的，不规则地伸展的v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的现在分词 )；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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73
serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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74
huddle
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| vi.挤作一团；蜷缩；vt.聚集；n.挤在一起的人 | |
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75
sundry
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| adj.各式各样的，种种的 | |
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76
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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straightforward
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| adj.正直的，坦率的；易懂的，简单的 | |
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repudiation
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| n.拒绝；否认；断绝关系；抛弃 | |
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everlasting
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| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
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