第 14 节
作者:冥王      更新:2021-02-18 23:11      字数:9322
  when Mohammed raised him to himself。
  Many of these men; misled by vanity; think themselves quite as capable
  as their patron。 Pure devotion; such as Modeste conceived it; without
  money and without price; and more especially without hope; is rare。
  Nevertheless there are Mennevals to be found; more perhaps in Paris
  than elsewhere; men who value a life in the background with its
  peaceful toil; these are the wandering Benedictines of our social
  world; which offers them no other monastery。 These brave; meek hearts
  live; by their actions and in their hidden lives; the poetry that
  poets utter。 They are poets themselves in soul; in tenderness; in
  their lonely vigils and meditations;as truly poets as others of the
  name on paper; who fatten in the fields of literature at so much a
  verse; like Lord Byron; like all who live; alas; by ink; the
  Hippocrene water of to…day; for want of a better。
  Attracted by the fame of Canalis; also by the prospect of political
  interest; and advised thereto by Madame d'Espard; who acted in the
  matter for the Duchesse de Chaulieu; a young lawyer of the court of
  Claims became secretary and confidential friend of the poet; who
  welcomed and petted him very much as a broker caresses his first
  dabbler in the funds。 The beginning of this companionship bore a very
  fair resemblance to friendship。 The young man had already held the
  same relation to a minister; who went out of office in 1827; taking
  care before he did so to appoint his young secretary to a place in the
  foreign office。 Ernest de La Briere; then about twenty…seven years of
  age; was decorated with the Legion of honor but was without other
  means than his salary; he was accustomed to the management of business
  and had learned a good deal of life during his four years in a
  minister's cabinet。 Kindly; amiable; and over…modest; with a heart
  full of pure and sound feelings; he was averse to putting himself in
  the foreground。 He loved his country; and wished to serve her; but
  notoriety abashed him。 To him the place of secretary to a Napoleon was
  far more desirable than that of the minister himself。 As soon as he
  became the friend and secretary of Canalis he did a great amount of
  labor for him; but by the end of eighteen months he had learned to
  understand the barrenness of a nature that was poetic through literary
  expression only。 The truth of the old proverb; 〃The cowl doesn't make
  the monk;〃 is eminently shown in literature。 It is extremely rare to
  find among literary men a nature and a talent that are in perfect
  accord。 The faculties are not the man himself。 This disconnection;
  whose phenomena are amazing; proceeds from an unexplored; possibly an
  unexplorable mystery。 The brain and its products of all kinds (for in
  art the hand of man is a continuation of his brain) are a world apart;
  which flourishes beneath the cranium in absolute independence of
  sentiments; feelings; and all that is called virtue; the virtue of
  citizens; fathers; and private life。 This; however true; is not
  absolutely so; nothing is absolutely true of man。 It is certain that a
  debauched man will dissipate his talent; that a drunkard will waste it
  in libations; while; on the other hand; no man can give himself talent
  by wholesome living: nevertheless; it is all but proved that Virgil;
  the painter of love; never loved a Dido; and that Rousseau; the model
  citizen; had enough pride to had furnished forth an aristocracy。 On
  the other hand Raphael and Michael Angelo do present the glorious
  conjunction of genius with the lines of character。 Talent in men is
  therefore; in all moral points; very much what beauty is in women;
  simply a promise。 Let us; therefore; doubly admire the man in whom
  both heart and character equal the perfection of his genius。
  When Ernest discovered within his poet an ambitious egoist; the worst
  species of egoist (for there are some amiable forms of the vice); he
  felt a delicacy in leaving him。 Honest natures cannot easily break the
  ties that bind them; especially if they have tied them voluntarily。
  The secretary was therefore still living in domestic relations with
  the poet when Modeste's letter arrived;in such relations; be it
  said; as involved a perpetual sacrifice of his feelings。 La Briere
  admitted the frankness with which Canalis had laid himself bare before
  him。 Moreover; the defects of the man; who will always be considered a
  great poet during his lifetime and flattered as Martmontel was
  flattered; were only the wrong side of his brilliant qualities。
  Without his vanity and his magniloquence it is possible that he might
  never have acquired the sonorous elocution which is so useful and even
  necessary an instrument in political life。 His cold…bloodedness
  touched at certain points on rectitude and loyalty; his ostentation
  had a lining of generosity。 Results; we must remember; are to the
  profit of society; motives concern God。
  But after the arrival of Modeste's letter Ernest deceived himself no
  longer as to Canalis。 The pair had just finished breakfast and were
  talking together in the poet's study; which was on the ground…floor of
  a house standing back in a court…yard; and looked into a garden。
  〃There!〃 exclaimed Canalis; 〃I was telling Madame de Chaulieu the
  other day that I ought to bring out another poem; I knew admiration
  was running short; for I have had no anonymous letters for a long
  time。〃
  〃Is it from an unknown woman?〃
  〃Unknown? yes!a D'Este; in Havre; evidently a feigned name。〃
  Canalis passed the letter to La Briere。 The little poem; with all its
  hidden enthusiasms; in short; poor Modeste's heart; was disdainfully
  handed over; with the gesture of a spoiled dandy。
  〃It is a fine thing;〃 said the lawyer; 〃to have the power to attract
  such feelings; to force a poor woman to step out of the habits which
  nature; education; and the world dictate to her; to break through
  conventions。 What privileges genius wins! A letter such as this;
  written by a young girla genuine young girlwithout hidden
  meanings; with real enthusiasm〃
  〃Well; what?〃 said Canalis。
  〃Why; a man might suffer as much as Tasso and yet feel recompensed;〃
  cried La Briere。
  〃So he might; my dear fellow; by a first letter of that kind; and even
  a second; but how about the thirtieth? And suppose you find out that
  these young enthusiasts are little jades? Or imagine a poet rushing
  along the brilliant path in search of her; and finding at the end of
  it an old Englishwoman sitting on a mile…stone and offering you her
  hand! Or suppose this post…office angel should really be a rather ugly
  girl in quest of a husband? Ah; my boy! the effervescence then goes
  down。〃
  〃I begin to perceive;〃 said La Briere; smiling; 〃that there is
  something poisonous in glory; as there is in certain dazzling
  flowers。〃
  〃And then;〃 resumed Canalis; 〃all these women; even when they are
  simple…minded; have ideals; and you can't satisfy them。 They never say
  to themselves that a poet is a vain man; as I am accused of being;
  they can't conceive what it is for an author to be at the mercy of a
  feverish excitement; which makes him disagreeable and capricious; they
  want him always grand; noble; it never occurs to them that genius is a
  disease; or that Nathan lives with Florine; that D'Arthez is too fat;
  and Joseph Bridau is too thin; that Beranger limps; and that their own
  particular deity may have the snuffles! A Lucien de Rubempre; poet and
  cupid; is a phoenix。 And why should I go in search of compliments only
  to pull the string of a shower…bath of horrid looks from some
  disillusioned female?〃
  〃Then the true poet;〃 said La Briere; 〃ought to remain hidden; like
  God; in the centre of his worlds; and be only seen in his own
  creations。〃
  〃Glory would cost too dear in that case;〃 answered Canalis。 〃There is
  some good in life。 As for that letter;〃 he added; taking a cup of tea;
  〃I assure you that when a noble and beautiful woman loves a poet she
  does not hide in the corner boxes; like a duchess in love with an
  actor; she feels that her beauty; her fortune; her name are protection
  enough; and she dares to say openly; like an epic poem: 'I am the
  nymph Calypso; enamored of Telemachus。' Mystery and feigned names are
  the resources of little minds。 For my part I no longer answer masks〃
  〃I should love a woman who came to seek me;〃 cried La Briere。 〃To all
  you say I reply; my dear Canalis; that it cannot be an ordinary girl
  who aspires to a distinguished man; such a girl has too little trust;
  too much vanity; she is too faint…hearted。 Only a star; a〃
  〃princess!〃 cried Canalis; bursting into a shout of laughter; 〃only
  a princess can descend to him。 My dear fellow; that doesn't happen
  once in a hundred years。 Such a love is like that flower that blossoms
  every century。 Princesses; let me tell you; if they are young; rich;
  and beautiful; have something else to think of; they are surrounded
  like rar