the love affairs of a bibliomaniac-第17部分

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ful；　all　of　us　bear　the　same　burden；　all　of　us　need　the　same　armor　in　our　fight　with　Apollyon；　all　of　us　have　to　pass　through　the　Wicket　Gateto　pass　through　the　dark　river；　and　for　all　of　us　（if　God　so　will）　there　wait　the　shining　ones　at　the　gates　of　the　Celestial　City！　　Who　does　not　love　to　linger　over　the　life　story　of　the　‘immortal　dreamer'　as　one　of　those　characters　for　whom　man　has　done　so　little　and　God　so　much？''

About　my　favorite　copy　of　the　‘‘Pilgrim's　Progress''　many　a　pleasant　reminiscence　lingers；　for　it　was　one　of　the　books　my　grandmother　gave　my　father　when　he　left　home　to　engage　in　the　great　battle　of　life；　when　my　father　died　this　thick；　dumpy　little　volume；　with　its　rude　cuts　and　poorly　printed　pages；　came　into　my　possession。　　I　do　not　know　what　part　this　book　played　in　my　father's　life；　but　I　can　say　for　myself　that　it　has　brought　me　solace　and　cheer　a　many　times。

The　only　occasion　upon　which　I　felt　bitterly　toward　Dr。　O'Rell　was　when　that　personage　observed　in　my　hearing　one　day　that　Bunyan　was　a　dyspeptic；　and　that　had　he　not　been　one　he　would　doubtless　never　have　written　the　‘‘Pilgrim's　Progress。''

I　took　issue　with　the　doctor　on　this　point；　whereupon　he　cited　those　visions　and　dreams；　which；　according　to　the　light　of　science　as　it　now　shines；　demonstrate　that　Bunyan's　digestion　must　have　been　morbid。　　And；　forthwith；　he　overwhelmed　me　with　learned　instances　from　Galen　and　Hippocrates；　from　Spurzheim　and　Binns；　from　Locke　and　Beattie；　from　Malebranche　and　Bertholini；　from　Darwin　and　Descartes；　from　Charlevoix　and　Berkeley；　from　Heraclitus　and　Blumenbach；　from　Priestley　and　Abercrombie；　in　fact；　forsooth；　he　quoted　me　so　many　authorities　that　it　verily　seemed　to　me　as　though　the　whole　world　were　against　me！

I　did　not　know　until　then　that　Dr。　O'Rell　had　made　a　special　study　of　dreams；　of　their　causes　and　of　their　signification。　　I　had　always　supposed　that　astrology　was　his　particular　hobby；　in　which　science　I　will　concede　him　to　be　deeply　learned；　even　though　he　has　never　yet　proved　to　my　entire　satisfaction　that　the　reason　why　my　copy　of　Justinian　has　faded　from　a　royal　purple　to　a　　pale　blue　is；　first；　because　the　binding　was　renewed　at　the　wane　of　the　moon　and　when　Sirius　was　in　the　ascendant；　and；　secondly；　because　（as　Dr。　O'Rell　has　discovered）　my　binder　was　born　at　a　moment　fifty…six　years　ago　when　Mercury　was　in　the　fourth　house　and　Herschel　and　Saturn　were　aspected　in　conjunction；　with　Sol　at　his　northern　declination。

Dr。　O'Rell　has　frequently　expressed　surprise　that　I　have　never　wearied　of　and　drifted　away　from　the　book…friendships　of　my　earlier　years。　　Other　people；　he　says；　find；　as　time　elapses；　that　they　no　longer　discover　those　charms　in　certain　books　which　attracted　them　so　powerfully　in　youth。　　‘‘We　have　in　our　earlier　days；''　argues　the　doctor；　‘‘friendships　so　dear　to　us　that　we　would　repel　with　horror　the　suggestion　that　we　could　ever　become　heedless　or　forgetful　of　them；　yet；　alas；　as　we　grow　older　we　gradually　become　indifferent　to　these　first　friends；　and　we　are　weaned　from　them　by　other　friendships；　there　even　comes　a　time　when　we　actually　wonder　how　it　were　possible　for　us　to　be　on　terms　of　intimacy　with　　such　or　such　a　person。　　We　grow　away　from　people；　and　in　like　manner　and　for　similar　reasons　we　grow　away　from　books。''

Is　it　indeed　possible　for　one　to　become　indifferent　to　an　object　he　has　once　loved？　　I　can　hardly　believe　so。　　At　least　it　is　not　so　with　me；　and；　even　though　the　time　may　come　when　I　shall　no　longer　be　able　to　enjoy　the　uses　of　these　dear　old　friends　with　the　old…time　enthusiasm；　I　should　still　regard　them　with　that　tender　reverence　which　in　his　age　the　poet　Longfellow　expressed　when　looking　round　upon　his　beloved　books：

　　Sadly　as　some　old　mediaeval　knight　　　　　　　Gazed　at　the　arms　he　could　no　longer　wield　　　　　　　The　sword　two…handed　and　the　shining　shield　　　Suspended　in　the　hall　and　full　in　sight；　　　While　secret　longings　for　the　lost　delight　　　　　　　Of　tourney　or　adventure　in　the　field　　　　　　　Came　over　him；　and　tears　but　half　concealed　　　Trembled　and　fell　upon　his　beard　of　white；　　　So　I　behold　these　books　upon　their　shelf　　　　　　　My　ornaments　and　arms　of　other　days；　　　　　　　　　　　Not　wholly　useless；　though　no　longer　used；　　　For　they　remind　me　of　my　other　self　　　　　　　Younger　and　stronger；　and　the　pleasant　ways　　　　　　　　　　　In　which　I　walked；　now　clouded　and　confused。　


If　my　friend　O'Rell's　theory　be　true；　how　barren　would　be　Age！　　Lord　Bacon　tells　us　in　his　‘‘Apothegms''　that　Alonzo　of　Aragon　was　wont　to　say；　in　commendation　of　Age；　that　Age　appeared　to　be　best　in　four　things：　　Old　wood　best　to　burn；　old　wine　to　drink；　old　friends　to　trust；　and　old　authors　to　read。　　Sir　John　Davys　recalls　that　‘‘a　French　writer　（whom　I　love　well）　speaks　of　three　kinds　of　companions：　　Men；　women　and　books；''　and　my　revered　and　beloved　poet…friend；　Richard　Henry　Stoddard；　has　wrought　out　this　sentiment　in　a　poem　of　exceeding　beauty；　of　which　the　concluding　stanza　runs　in　this　wise：

　　　　　　Better　than　men　and　women；　friend；　　　　　　　That　are　dust；　though　dear　in　our　joy　and　pain；　　　Are　the　books　their　cunning　hands　have　penned；　　　　　　　For　they　depart；　but　the　books　remain；　　　Through　these　they　speak　to　us　what　was　best　　　　　　　In　the　loving　heart　and　the　noble　mind；　　　All　their　royal　souls　possessed　　　　　　　Belongs　forever　to　all　mankind！　　　When　others　fail　him；　the　wise　man　looks　　　To　the　sure　companionship　of　books。


If　ever；　O　honest　friends　of　mine；　I　should　forget　you　or　weary　of　your　companionship；　　whither　would　depart　the　memories　and　the　associations　with　which　each　of　you　is　hallowed！　　Would　ever　the　modest　flowers　of　spring…time；　budding　in　pathways　where　I　no　longer　wander；　recall　to　my　failing　sight　the　vernal　beauty　of　the　Puritan　maid；　Captivity？　　In　what　reverie　of　summer…time　should　I　feel　again　the　graciousness　of　thy　presence；　Yseult？

And　Fanchonettesweet；　timid　little　Fanchonette！　would　ever　thy　ghost　come　back　from　out　those　years　away　off　yonder　？　Be　hushed；　my　Beranger；　for　a　moment；　another　song　hath　awakened　softly　responsive　echoes　in　my　heart！　It　is　a　song　of　Fanchonette：

　　　　　　In　vain；　in　vain；　we　meet　no　more；　　　　　　　Nor　dream　what　fates　befall；　　　And　long　upon　the　stranger's　shore　　　　　　　My　voice　on　thee　may　call；　　　When　years　have　clothed　the　line　in　moss　　　　　　　That　tells　thy　name　and　days；　　　And　withered；　on　thy　simple　cross；　　　　　　　The　wreaths　of　Pere　la　Chaise！　





　XVI

THE　MALADY　CALLED　CATALOGITIS

Judge　Methuen　tells　me　that　one　of　the　most　pleasing　delusions　he　has　experienced　in　his　long　and　active　career　as　a　bibliomaniac　is　that　which　is　born　of　the　catalogue　habit。　　Presuming　that　there　are　among　my　readers　many　laymen；for　I　preach　salvation　to　the　heathen；I　will　explain　for　their　information　that　the　catalogue　habit；　so　called；　is　a　practice　to　which　the　confirmed　lover　of　books　is　likely　to　become　addicted。　　It　is　a　custom　of　many　publishers　and　dealers　to　publish　and　to　disseminate　at　certain　periods　lists　of　their　wares；　in　the　hope　of　thereby　enticing　readers　to　buy　those　wares。

By　what　means　these　crafty　tradesmen　secure　the　names　of　their　prospective　victims　I　cannot　say；　but　this　I　know　full　wellthat　　there　seems　not　to　be　a　book…lover　on　the　face　of　the　earth；　I　care　not　how　remote　or　how　secret　his　habitation　may　be；　that　these　dealers　do　not　presently　find　him　out　and　overwhelm　him　with　their　delightful　temptations。

I　have　been　told　that　among　booksellers　there　exists　a　secret　league　which　provides　for　the　interchange　of　confidences；　so　that　when　a　new　customer　enters　a　shop　in　the　Fulham　road　or　in　Oxford　street　or　along　the　quays　of　Paris；　or　it　matters　not　where　（so　long　as　the　object　of　his　inquiry　be　a　book）；　within　the　space　of　a　month　that　man's　name　and　place　of　residence　are　reported　to　and　entered　in　the　address　list　of　every　other　bookseller　in　Christendom；　and　forthwith　and　forever　after　the　catalogues　and　price…lists　and　bulletins　of　publishers　and　dealers　in　every　part　of　the　world　are　pelted　at　him　through　the　unerring　processes　of　the　mails。

Judge　Methuen　has　been　a　victim　（a　pleasant　victim）　to　the　catalogue　habit　for　the　last　forty　years；　and　he　has　declared　that　if　all　the　catalogues　sent　to　and　read　by　him　in　that　space　of　time　were　gathered　together　in　a　heap　they　would　make　a　pile　bigger　than　Pike's　Peak；　and　a　thousandfold　more　interesting。　　I　myself　have　been　a　famous　reader　of　catalogues；　and　I　can　testify　that　the　habit　has　possessed　me　of　remarkable　delusions；　the　most　conspicuous　of　which　is　that　which　produces　within　me　the　conviction　that　a　book　is　as　good　as　mine　as　soon　as　I　have　met　with　its　title　in　a　catalogue；　and　set　an　X　over　against　it　in　pencil。

I　recall　that　on　one　occasion　I　was　discussing　with　Judge　Methuen　and　Dr。　O'Rell　the　attempted　escapes　of　Charles　I。　from　Carisbrooke　Castle；　a　point　of　difference　having　arisen；　I　said：　　‘‘Gentlemen；　I　will　refer　to　Hillier's　‘Narrative；'　and　I　doubt　not　that　my　argument　will　be　sustained　by　that　authority。''

It　was　vastly　easier；　however；　to　cite　Hillier　than　it　was　to　find　him。　　For　three　days　I　searched　in　my　library；　and　tumbled　my　books　about　in　that　confusion　which　results　from　undue　eagerness；　't　was　all　in　vain；　neither　hide　nor　hair　of　the　desired　volume　could　I　discover。　　It　finally　occurred　to　me　that　I　must　have　lent　the　book　to　somebody；　and　then　again　I　felt　sure　that　it　had　been　stolen。

No　tidings　of　the　missing　volume　came　to　me；　and　I　had　almost　forgotten　the　incident　when　one　evening　（it　was　fully　two　years　after　my　discussion　with　my　cronies）　I　came　upon；　in　one　of　the　drawers　of　my　oak　chest；　a　Sotheran　catalogue　of　May；　1871。　　By　the　merest　chance　I　opened　it；　and　as　luck　would　have　it；　I　opened　it　at　the　very　page　upon　which　appeared　this　item：

‘‘Hillier　（G。）　‘Narrative　of　the　Attempted　Escapes　of　Charles　the　First　from　Carisbrooke　Castle'；　cr。　　8vo；　1852；　cloth；　3/6。''

Against　this　item　appeared　a　cross　in　my　chirography；　and　I　saw　at　a　glance　that　this　was　my　long…lost　Hillier！　I　had　meant　to　buy　it；　and　had　marked　it　for　purchase；　but　with　the　determination　and　that　pencilled　cross　the　transaction　had　ended。　　Yet；　having　resolved　to　buy　it　had　served　me　almost　as　effectively　as　though　I　had　ac