2016年9月28日 星期三

吳汝綸,馬通伯,陳叔通

胡適曰:然君於獄中,馬通伯、姚叔節皆署名營救,此皆君所謂舊學究也。君出獄時,我等談笑一座,人情余溫尚在,君豈忘耶?獨秀不能對,惟強詰曰:
胡適日記
191025 報農曆1226):讀馬通伯先生《抱潤軒集》。此君似專治《禮》者,其「為人後辨」諸篇,說理至精闢,近代古文家一巨子也


 陳叔通想我把腴盧弄到北大
1931.7.24 胡適日記
1933.6.18  日記.   出國前先去看叔通丈. 叔通告訴夢旦丈的家境. (人口多) 胡適很感動......

 (
陳叔通(1876年-1966年2月17日),中國近代實業家,名敬第,字叔通,號雲麋,浙江杭州人。中國近現代學者、實業家、社會活動家。

生平

光緒二十九年(1903年癸卯殿試位列二甲第三十八名,同年閏五月,改翰林院庶吉士[1]。次年留學日本。回國後曾任資政院議員。辛亥革命後任第一屆國會眾議院議員。曾參加反護法鬥爭。以後長期擔任商務印書館董事和浙江興業銀行董事,從事實業活動[2]
抗日戰爭勝利前夕,參加籌組上海市各界人民團體聯合會,從事民主活動。1949年出席中國人民政治協商會議第一屆全體會議[3]中華人民共和國建立後,歷任中央人民政府委員會委員全國人民代表大會常務委員會副委員長中國人民政治協商會議全國委員會副主席全國工商聯主任委員等職務[4]。)


讀吳汝綸集 此公很有見地 有不可埋沒之處 他晚年考察日本學制 歸來不久即死 竟沒有實行的機會 甚可惜
1931.7.27 胡適日記



维基百科,自由的百科全书
吳汝綸
吳汝綸

大清冀州直隸州知州
籍貫 安徽省安慶府桐城縣
族裔 漢族
字號 字摯甫,一字摯父,室名矮棔居
出生 道光二十年(1840年
安慶府桐城縣
逝世 光緒二十九年(1903年
安慶府桐城縣
親屬 吳太和 (曾祖) 吳廷森 (即吳庭森, 祖父)
吳啟孫 (即吳闓生, 子)
薛翼運 (婿)
汪應張 (婿)
柯劭忞 (婿)
王光鸞 (婿)
出身
  • 同治三年甲子科舉人
  • 同治四年乙丑科同進士出身
著作
  • 《易解說》2卷
  • 《尚書故》3卷
  • 《寫定尚書》1卷
  • 《夏小正私箋》1卷
  • 《深州直隸州風土記》22卷
  • 《東游叢錄》4卷
  • 《吳摯甫文集》4卷
  • 《吳摯甫詩集》1卷
  • 《吳摯甫日記》12卷
  • 《吳摯甫尺牘》5卷;《補遺》1卷
  • 《諭兒書》1卷
  • 《李文忠公海軍函稿》4卷
  • 《古詩鈔二十卷附目》4卷
  • 《吳摯甫先生函稿》
  • 《李文忠公事略》
  • 《桐城吳先生全書》
  • 《桐城吳先生遺書》
吳汝綸(1840年-1903年),字摯甫,一作摯父。清朝安徽桐城(今屬樅陽會宮鄉)人。是近代文學家教育家,也是桐城派後期作家
同治四年(1865年)乙丑科進士。曾入曾國藩李鴻章幕府,並擔任過直隸深州、冀州(今均屬河北知州。並在兩州開辦書院,親自講授。後辭官,擔任保定蓮池書院山長。光緒二十八年(1902年),吏部尚書京師大學堂管學大臣張百熙跪請其出任學堂總教習,汝綸提出先赴日本考察,因留學生事件發生矛盾,歸國後回鄉辦學,不久病卒。
光緒二十八年(1902年),吳汝綸在家鄉桐城創辦桐城小學堂,又名桐城學堂,並親筆題寫校訓「勉成國器」。1952年,學堂改名為安徽省桐城中學。

 參考文獻


吴汝纶_百度百科

《天演論序》
本序作者為吳汝綸

天演論
吳序
作者:托馬斯·亨利·赫胥黎著;嚴復
自序

嚴子幾道既譯英人赫胥黎所著《天演論》,以示汝綸曰:「為我序之。」天演者,西國格物家言也。其學以天擇、物競二義,綜萬匯之本原,考動植之蕃 耗。言治者取焉。因物變遞嬗,深揅乎質力聚散之幾,推極乎古今萬國盛衰興壞之由,而大歸以任天為治。赫胥黎氏起而盡變故說,以為天不可獨任,要貴以人持 天。以人持天,必究極乎天賦之能,使人治日即乎新,而後其國永存,而種族賴以不墜,是之謂與天爭勝。而人之爭天而勝天者,又皆天事之所苞。是故天行人治, 同歸天演。其為書奧賾縱橫,博涉乎希臘、竺乾、斯多噶、婆羅門、釋迦諸學,審同析異,而取其衷,吾國之所創聞也。凡赫胥黎氏之道具如此,斯以信美矣。
  抑汝綸之深有取於是書,則又以嚴子之雄於文。以為赫胥黎氏之指趣,得嚴子乃益明。自吾國之譯西書,未有能及嚴子者也。凡吾聖賢之教,上者,道勝 而文至;其次,道稍卑矣,而文猶足以久;獨文之不足,斯其道不能以徒存。六藝尚已,晚周以來,諸子各自名家,其文多可喜,其大要有集錄之書,有自著之言。 集錄者,篇各為義,不相統貫,原於《》《》者也;自著者,建立一干,枝葉扶疏,原於《》《春秋》者也。漢之士爭以撰著相高,其尤者,《太史公書》,繼《春秋》而作,人治以著;揚子《太玄》,擬《》為之,天行以闡。是皆所為一干而枝葉扶疏也。及唐中葉,而韓退之氏出,源本《》《》, 一變而為集錄之體,宋以來宗之。是故漢氏多撰著之編,唐宋多集錄之文,其大略也。集錄既多,而向之所為撰著之體,不復多見,間一有之,其文采不足以自發, 知言者擯焉弗列也。獨近世所傳西人書,率皆一干而眾枝,有合於漢氏之撰著。又惜吾國之譯言者,人抵弇陋不文,不足傳載其義。夫撰著之與集錄,其體雖變,其 要於文之能工。一而已。今議者謂西人之學,多吾所未聞,欲瀹民智,莫善於譯書。吾則以消今兩書之流入吾國,適當吾文學靡敝之時,士大夫相矜尚以為學者,時 文耳,公牘耳,說部耳。捨此三者,兒無所為書。而是三者,固不足與文學之事。今西書雖多新學,顧吾之上以其時文、公牘、說部之詞,譯而傳之,有識者方鄙夷 而不知顧。民智之瀹何由?此無他,文不足焉故也。文如幾道,可與言譯書矣。往者釋氏之入中國,中學未衰也,能者筆受,前後相望,顧其文自為一類,不與中國 同。今赫胥黎氏之道,未知於釋氏何如?然欲濟其書於太史氏、揚氏之列,吾知其難也;即欲儕之唐宋作者,吾亦知其難也。嚴子一文之,而其書乃駸駸與晚周諸子 相上下,然則文顧不重耶。
  抑嚴子之譯是書,不惟自傳其文而已,蓋謂赫胥黎氏以人持天,以人治之日新,衛其種族之說,其義富,其辭危,使讀焉者怵焉知變,於國論殆有助乎? 是恉也,予又惑焉。凡為書必與其時之學者相入,而後其效明。今學者方以時文、公牘、說部為學,而嚴子乃欲進之以可久之詞,與晚周諸子相上下之書,吾懼其傑 馳而不相入也。雖然,嚴子之意,蓋將有待也。待而得其人,則吾民之智瀹矣。是又赫胥黎氏以人治歸大演之一義也歟。
  光緒戊戌孟夏 桐城吳汝綸敘
瀹,國論,相入,翻天 轍環, 冰炭不相入
~~~
吳汝綸《百字銘》:
「遠觀山色,年年依舊如新,
近視人情,漸漸不同往日。
詩朋酒友,日會三千,
知己心人,百無一二。
花開兮,蝴蝶至,人困兮,親戚疏。
時來,誰不來;時不來,誰來。
自跌倒,自爬起,靠人扶,都是假。
親戚朋友,說的是隔山話。
且挨過三冬四夏,暫受些此痛苦,雪盡后再看梅花。」




---


人物簡​​介馬通伯(1854一1929) ,號其昶,桐城縣人,家居桐城縣城內。人物生平自幼勤學,博覽經史百家之書,深得桐城派義法之要旨,補諸生十餘年,屢應鄉試不第。曾捐資助河工,奏獎中書科中書。 1895年授經於安慶,1897年主講廬江潛川書院,1901年授經合肥李仲仙家,李子國孫文章雅暢,全賴先生教誨。 1904年任桐城縣公立中學堂總理八年,主掌全校教務。通伯秉該校創始人吳汝綸“養成濟世人才”之宗旨,積極汲取新知,嘉惠桑梓,並註重全民教育,開設師範班培養師資,以利教化。增開倫理課程,授以人倫道德之要領,並示以身、家、朋、國之關係。重視體育操練,常使學生做野外演習。一次帶領學生登山春遊,集合學生教導:“有誌之士,當效班超,既鬚髮憤習文,尤須聞雞習武。文武兼備,方能治國齊家。日後中國之昌盛,大任肩於爾曹也。相關事件通伯主持桐城中學堂時,灌輸民主思想,激勵學生革命精神。 1908年清廷詔舉人才,安徽巡撫馮煦以先生應詔,授學部主事。辛亥革命辭職返裡。民國初元曾主安慶高等學堂。越丁年,重返京主京師法政學堂教務兼備員參政院。會修清史,受館長趙爾巽聘為總纂,先生撰稿尤多,褒貶矜慎。在袁世凱授意下,參政院下設籌安會,議更國體,重先生名,遣使固邀之,先生陳說百端,堅拒不就,即日束裝南歸。越年,袁政權敗,先生復入都,居清史館,成《清史稿· 儒林· 文苑傳》 各若干卷。民國十五年(1926)病痺還桐城。 1929年12月卒,享年七十有五。編輯本段主要著作通伯為學、不附世俗,歸於自得。平生撰述,於經有:《易費氏學》、《詩毛氏學》、《尚書誼話》、《禮記讀本》、《大學·中庸·孝​​經合話》。於史有:《清史稿》、《桐城首舊傳》、《左忠毅公年譜》。於諸子百家有:《老子故》、《莊子故》、《屈賦微》、《金剛經次話》。其自為之書曰:《抱潤​​軒集》,凡月百餘卷。編輯本段後世評價先生少習古文辭,從同里方存之、吳汝綸、武昌張廉卿諸先生遊,其文益工。及遊京師鄭東甫、何鳳孫輩,益進而治經。旁列眾說,折衷去取,潛思而通其故,常獲創解。為文遵循先輩所傳之義法,而高潔純郭,深造孤詣。劉大傑所著《文學發展史》稱通伯之文如“孤桐絕響”。先生撰吾邑魯舊傳數百篇,又為清史總纂,對名臣魁儒遺聞軼事,搜討尤勤,得使清代國史與桐城鄉史留傳後世。擴展閱讀:

1

http://www.tcjy.cn/tcjy/index.php?ty=181
2

http://www.hr9999.com/xiandai/JYJ/JS/20080822/43294.html

2016年9月22日 星期四

柳無忌(1907年-2002年10月3日)

"柳無忌念人憶事——胡適之先生" (尚未讀)
我所認識的胡適 柳無忌 傳記文學 34:6 民68.06 頁21-25


先知道柳無忌先生的作品 後知道他父親-- 前幾年過吳江 該地人以他是毛的朋友為榮(柳亞子為 中央人民政府委員會委員 毛泽东文集(第6卷) p.2)

胡適至少有二封"復柳無忌"信:1959/8/31和1959/9/13) ,討論柳無忌要為胡適討論薛瓚的長文的英文摘要的問題。
"臣瓚"的"臣" 為Your Majesty's humble servant .....
胡適提到趙元任注重譯文的"分兩"問題: 趙喜歡將 Dear Shih-Chih 翻譯成" 迪呀適之",  因為若直譯為"親愛的" ,分兩就太重了。


***

柳无忌简介

姓名: 柳无忌
(1907-2002)   笔名: 啸霞、萧亚、无忌   国籍: 美籍   民族: 汉   出生地: 江苏吴江   职业: 著名汉语诗人、近代著名诗人、旅美散文家   毕业院校: 北京清华学校,耶鲁大学   主要成就: 长期致力于文学研究和教学工作,著有《西洋文学研究》、《中国文学概论》、《当代中国文学作品选》、《葵晔集》、《抛砖集》、《古稀话旧集》、《休而未朽集》、《柳无忌散文选》、《少年歌德》、《曼殊评传》、《印度文学》、《苏曼殊年谱》、《苏曼殊全集》、《柳亚子年谱》、《柳亚子文集》等;   译著有《英国文学史》、《莎士比亚时代抒情诗》、《凯撒大将》;   1976年退休后筹建国际南社学会,被推为会长,主编《国际南社学会从刊》、《南社丛书》;   1989年出版《我们的父亲柳亚子》。

个人档案

柳无忌先生(1907-2002)为近代著名诗人柳亚子的 哲嗣,1927年于北京清华学校毕业后赴美留学,1931年以《英国浪漫主义诗人雪莱》论文获耶鲁大学英国文学博士学位。1932年回国后,他先后在南开 大学、西南联合大学、中央大学任教,1946年再度赴美,前后执教于劳伦斯大学、耶鲁大学和印第安纳大学,任文学教授。上世纪60年代初,他在印第安纳大 学创办东亚语文系,任系主任。柳无忌对中国文学和西方文学均有深入研究,撰述译编中英文著作有三四十种。柳无忌在国内讲授西方文学,在美国则讲授中国文 学。他为中西文学交流起了桥梁作用。柳无忌青年时代即随其父柳亚子先生参加南社、新南社活动。他对苏曼殊、柳亚子等南社人物作过深入研究,晚年积极推进南 社研究事业,成立学会,创办刊物,资助南社资料和研究著作的出版,多所贡献。柳无忌以95岁高龄,于2002年10月在美国旧金山市病逝后,江苏南社研究 会、国际南社研究会与中国南社与柳亚子研究会合作,编辑柳无忌先生纪念集。

著作成就

柳无忌,旅美散文家。原名柳锡□,笔名啸霞、萧亚、无忌。1907年生,江苏吴江人。10岁时加入其父柳亚子组织的文学团体南社,17岁时开始对苏曼殊 的研究。1920-1925年在圣约翰中学及大学一年级读书。后入清华学校学习文学。1927年公费留美,后获劳伦斯大学学士学位和耶鲁大学英国文学博士 学位。1931年与罗皑岚、罗念生、陈麟瑞等人在纽约创办《文学杂志》,柳亚子任名誉主编,共出4期,柳无忌发表新诗和诗论多篇。1932年回国,相继在 南开大学、西南联合大学、中央大学任教。1935年与罗皑岚在南开大学发起人生与文学社,编辑期刊《人生与文学》、天津《益世报》"文艺"副刊。   

1945年赴美国讲学,从此定居美国。先后任劳伦斯大学、耶鲁大学和印第安那大学中文教授。柳 无忌深受英国浪漫派诗人(特别是雪莱)的影响,自称诗文均由灵感而生成,"情绪汹涌起来,文学如泉水般直泻而下"。他长期致力于文学研究和教学工作,著有 《西洋文学研究》、《中国文学概论》、《当代中国文学作品选》、《葵晔集》、《抛砖集》、《古稀话旧集》、《休而未朽集》、《柳无忌散文选》、《少年歌 德》、《曼殊评传》、《印度文学》、《苏曼殊年谱》、《苏曼殊全集》、《柳亚子年谱》、《柳亚子文集》等,译著有《英国文学史》、《莎士比亚时代抒情 诗》、《凯撒大将》。1976年退休后筹建国际南社学会,被推为会长,主编《国际南社学会从刊》、《南社丛书》。1989年出版《我们的父亲柳亚子》。现 寓居美国加州孟乐公寓。

个人履历

1927年于北京清华学校毕业后赴美留学   1931年以《英国浪漫主义诗人雪莱》论文获耶鲁大学英国文学博士学位   1932年回国后,他先后在南开大学、西南联合大学、中央大学任教   1946年再度赴美,前后执教于劳伦斯大学、耶鲁大学和印第安纳大学,任文学教授   20世纪60年代初,在印第安纳大学创办东亚语文系,任系主任。   2002年10月在美国旧金山市病逝,时年95岁

生平经历

柳无忌先生(1907-2002)为近代著名诗人柳亚子的哲嗣,1927年于北京清华学校毕业后赴美留学,1931年以《英国浪漫主义诗人雪莱》论文获 耶鲁大学英国文学博士学位。1932年回国后,他先后在南开大学、西南联合大学、中央大学任教,1946年再度赴美,前后执教于劳伦斯大学、耶鲁大学和印 第安纳大学,任文学教授。上世纪60年代初,他在印第安纳大学   

创办东亚语文系,任系主任。柳无忌对中国文学和西方文学均有深入研究,撰述译编中英文著作有三 四十种。柳无忌在国内讲授西方文学,在美国则讲授中国文学。他为中西文学交流起了桥梁作用。柳无忌青年时代即随其父柳亚子先生参加南社、新南社活动。他对 苏曼殊、柳亚子等南社人物作过深入研究,晚年积极推进南社研究事业,成立学会,创办刊物,资助南社资料和研究著作的出版,多所贡献。   

柳无忌以95岁高龄,于2002年10月在美国旧金山市病逝后,江苏南社研究会、国际南社研究 会与中国南社与柳亚子研究会合作,编辑柳无忌先生纪念集。该书题名《教授、学者、诗人柳无忌》,于今年9月由社会科学文献出版社出版。这本纪念集,分前后 两篇。前篇为“自述人生”,辑录了柳无忌先生的散文、诗歌作品和部分论文。后篇为中外学人对柳无忌先生评述、忆念的诗文。它集诗文选与纪念文于一体,用纸 墨为柳无忌先生树立了一座有价值的纪念碑。   

此书开篇即吸引读者的是,柳无忌先生自撰的九篇回忆性散文。这些写于不同年代、各自成篇的回忆 录,编到一起,实际上构成了柳无忌先生的一部自传。他这回忆录体的自传,不仅勾勒了他所处的时代和他的人生历程,而且生动、幽默地解析了他人生之旅中的内 在心理活动。而这后一层面的内容,揭秘了他一生中一些重要转折是在什么情况下发生的,读来深觉亲切有味。   

柳无忌回忆他在五卅运动中的表现和遭遇时写道:“上海发生五卅惨案,群情激昂,甚至洋学堂如圣 约翰(时柳无忌正在圣约翰学校读书)的学生也被卷入漩涡内。最初的罢课为抗议租界当局的横暴,后来更因为卜芳济校长把学生挂起的五色国旗取下,我们大家痛 哭流涕地离开梵王渡,暂不返校。这样,结束了我在洋学堂五年的生活。”柳无忌先生是温文尔雅的教授学者,总其一生,他并非那种积极投入政治活动的人物。但 读了这一段文字后,我们方知道,原来柳无忌青年时期在上海,也曾积极参加到五卅运动中,并因坚持爱国立场而中辍了他在教会学校的学业。   他接着说:“1925年夏天,悲惨地回到黎里(吴江县一小镇)家里,对于前途一点也没有把握的 我,已是十八岁了。幸而在清华学校教书的二舅父郑桐荪,为我设法从后门(不经过考试)送进清华园,在那里度过了两年最愉快的学生生活。”对柳无忌来说,这 真是山穷水尽疑无路,柳暗花明又一村。从圣约翰学校辍学,到进入清华学校,无疑是柳无忌人生道路的一块界碑。   

柳无忌叙述在清华园与梁启超接触的一个故事非常有趣。清华国学研究院有好几位著名教授,其中最 引人注目的是梁启超和王国维。年轻的柳无忌与梁启超还发生过一次交往。其缘由是,柳无忌从小随其父柳亚子对苏曼殊的作品进行过收集编辑工作。在收集苏曼殊作品的过程中,他得到一部《班定远(班超)平西域记》,作者署名为“曼殊室主人”。柳无忌得之大喜,他以为“曼殊室主人”就是苏曼殊,他得到的也就是苏曼 殊的新作。但其父柳亚子提醒他说,好像梁任公也曾用过“曼殊室主人”名号,因此叫他就近向梁启超询问清楚。他果然去见梁任公。结果呢,柳无忌写道:“我不 虚此行,但是失望了”。梁启超告诉他,他本人就是“平西域”剧本的作者。虽说他感到“失望”,其实,他弄清了“平西域记”一书的作者,何尝不是一个收获 呢。   

柳无忌一生研究中西文学,人们一般不会了解他曾选择过化学专业,后来才改学文学的。他在一篇回 忆录解说他为什么先选化学后改文学的背景,也不乏有趣。他回忆说:“在圣约翰中学及大学读书时与从前不同,许多老师都是外国人。教我们西文与西洋史的,是 两位年轻貌美的美国小姐,刚从大学毕业。那位化学老师更为了不起,是美国大学的博士。他们都喜欢我,尤其是那位化学博士,我受他(她)的影响最大,使我计 划在大学内专攻化学。”他在另文中又说到,他选修化学还有另外更有趣的动机:他想“研究及制造在欧战(第一次世界大战)末期用过的毒瓦斯弹,那是当时认为 破坏力最强大的武器,可以置一切外来侵略者于死地”。他说这是当时他“可笑的动机”,实际上,这正是他青年时代的爱国思想。然而,后来情况发生了变化。他 写道:“说起来惭愧得很,在大学内读了两年化学,没有成绩,遂中途而废。在理论与算学方面,我有相当把握,困难却在有机化学的实验室内,手的动作欠灵活, 天平弄不准,玻璃管拿不稳。我的实验老是不得要领,没有获得预期的结果,我绝望了。于是,放弃化学而就文学。现在想来,也不无塞翁失马的感觉。”与有些只 讲过五关斩六将,而不言走麦城的回忆录不同,柳无忌揭示和解剖当年自己的思想和实际表现,非常真实,富有勇气。   

抗日战争胜利后,柳无忌应美国大学之邀赴美,原打算讲学一年,没想到其后国内局势变动,他“一 去不返”,终生留美。他叙述在美国由想教西方文学改为教中国文学的情况,也颇有曲折。他先在佛州罗林斯大学当过英文及中国文化客座教授。待至在美国留下 后,他起初想在大学内找一个教英文的机会。他说:“我的英文程度不坏,在清华又读着法、德文。外国语文既有基础,从事西洋文学,倒也轻而易举。”后来得到 研究中国文学的奖助金,重新过了三年学生生活,专门在耶鲁大学图书馆书库内读了几百本中文、英文的有关中国文学、哲学和历史的书籍。他在考虑谋职时产生了 新的念头:“如在美国长期住下(后来竟是如此),要在大学内教英国文学,作研究,谋事时容易受到歧视。但如果改行为中国文学那就有‘唯我独尊’之感了。” 然而,在上世纪四十、五十年代,美国有中文课程的大学,简直屈指可数,几乎找不到教中文的机会。可是后来到50年代末期,美国国会通过一项“国防教育法 案”,鼓励美国青年学习外国语言,大部分为美国的“敌国”语言,包括中、俄、东欧和远近东以及非洲的语言。美国政府在各大学广设奖学金,成立研究中心。柳 无忌设想的发挥其中国文学之长的愿望终于能实现了。于是他先后在耶鲁、匹兹堡、印第安纳各大学任教,做研究。我们从这里看到,中国的形势,美国的政策,是 怎样决定了柳无忌后半生的道路和命运。   

柳无忌的回忆录一直写到他结束大学教书生涯和退休以后的生活。柳无忌感到,退休是他“生命中的 一段里程碑”。印第安纳大学东方语文系的同事,为他设了retirement dinner(“荣休庆宴”),许多朋友、学生出席,或向他发送贺信、诗联, 活动显得颇为隆重。柳无忌还对退休后的生活作了一番描述,澄清了对美国老年退休生活的误解。有人称,“美国是青年的乐园,老人的地狱”。他说:“前者相当 确切,后者却似是而非。”现在在美国尊称老人为“高年公民”,逐步增加老年人的福利,政府发给抵消因物价上涨而增加生活费用的“社会保障金”,理发、乘车 等均能得到减价优待。   

柳无忌一生经历本来就比较丰富,而在他真切生动的笔触下加以叙述,就更增添了风趣。以上只是他 自我解读人生的几个点滴,像一个长片中的几个镜头而已,他的人生履痕无法一一叙述。至于这本纪念集中选编的柳无忌的论文和中英文诗作,以及评述、怀念诗 文,则更不容这篇短文加以介绍了。

2016年9月21日 星期三

胡仰曦《一顆清亮的大星:胡適傳》


一顆清亮的大星:胡適傳
胡仰曦  著 
出版社
人民文學出版社
出版時間
2010-04-01

 胡適是一個褪了爭的詩人、一個落了伍的外交家、一個最卓越的政論家,一個永不停止的真理追求者,是一顆清亮的大星。胡適是“飯”,對於飢餓者來說吃飯是最急切的事情,但口味各異。
  本書從社會、文化、歷史、政治,以及愛情、婚姻、家庭生活等多重視角,通過細密的觀察,著意描繪出一個真實、鮮活的胡適,向讀者呈示其起伏跌宕的一生及生動豐富的氣質個性。
內容簡介
  在中國現代思想文化史的天幕上,有一顆“清亮的大星”。——他就是胡適。他是美國哥倫比亞大學哲學博士,是北京大學教授,是《新青年》撰稿人和編輯,是舊時代的掘墓人、新文化的先驅者。後來,又擔任過北京大學文學院院長、國民黨政府駐美大使、行政院最高政治顧問、北大校長、台北“中央研究院”院長等職,在一個風雲激盪、天翻地覆的大時代,扮演了各種舉足輕重的角色。
  《一顆清亮的大星:胡適傳》從社會、文化、歷史、政治,以及愛情、婚姻、家庭生活等多重視角,通過細密的觀察,著意描繪出一個真實、鮮活的胡適,向讀者呈示其起伏跌宕的一生及生動豐富的氣質個性。
目錄
圖片
自序:站在胡適之先生墓前
目錄
第一章父親與母親的傳說
第二章“穈先生”的上莊九年
第三章上海灘上的“憤青”才子
第四章“國人導師”的精神預備期
第五章舊中國的新青年
第六章內憂外患中的現代孔子
第七章一尾“老鴉”的啞啼
第八章光與火的洗禮
第九章奔赴國難的書生大使
第十章“小卒”沉底的飄零歲月
第十一章“大星”的隕落
主要參考書目

石原皋《閒話胡適》:胡適娛樂與生活;胡適藏書和書齋

石原皋《閒話胡適(合肥:安徽人民出版社,1990);中國人民大學出版社出版,2011?

石原皋:胡適的生活和藏書

《文匯讀書周報》2011年11月11日


胡適在近代中國歷史上留下了濃重的一筆,舉凡政治、文化、教育與外交領域,都可以聽到這位“徽駱駝”發人深思的言論。作為民國自由派知識分子的領袖,他的一舉一動長期成為學術界、文化界與思想界關注的焦點。作者從胡適的家族史講起,涉及胡適整個生活世界。本文摘自《閒話胡適》(中國人民大學出版社出版,作者:石原皋)。

  胡適娛樂與生活

  胡適住的房子越搬家越大。胡適在北京,最初住在南池子緞庫後身八號。我到北京時,他家已搬到鐘鼓寺十四號,在大學夾道附近,離北大不遠,住宅是普通四合院,房子不大,一進門為門房,兩側為廂房,正房居後,旁有耳房,廚房很小,廁所更狹。庭院也不寬大,栽有一二棵小樹,數盆夾竹桃。正房為寢室和書房,兩廂為客房及會客室。男傭人住在門房,女傭人住在耳房。家具陳設也很簡單。那時,各大學都長期欠薪,教授的生活都很清苦,胡適的經濟也不寬裕。後來,胡適出版的著作日多,銷路一好,收入就多起來了。在這個時期,他到國外去了一次,在國外住了十個月,講了些學,掙了些錢。鐘鼓寺的住宅,實在太狹小,不能不另找新居。恰巧,林長民的住宅出讓。林當時任郭松齡的秘書長,郭是奉軍的革新派,他造老派張作霖的反,被張作霖打敗,全軍覆沒,郭和林都被打死。林已死,他的住宅只好出讓。房子在景山大街陟山門六號。鐘鼓寺的房子是尋常老百姓家,陟山門的房子卻是官僚政客的公館了。房子寬敞很多了,庭院也大,氣派也兩樣了,有長廊,廚房中有機井。林家原有的家具陳設及皮沙發等,出了頂費全部買過來了。
  張大元帥進入北京,捕殺進步和革命人士,恐怖氣氛籠罩著整個北京城。胡適從海外講學回國,他也不能回到北京居住,於是江冬秀同兩個兒子遷到上海,住靜安寺極司非而路四十九號甲,為一樓一底的小洋房。胡適藏書多 ​​,所以房子要大。他的藏書沒有搬到上海,傭人也沒有跟來,一樓一底的小洋房也夠住了。何況上海是寸金之地,房租貴。當時胡適的經濟情況,還住不起花園大洋房。
  一九三〇年十一月底,胡適離開上海回到北京,再在北大任教。如時,胡的朋友越來越多了,書籍也越來越多了。象陟山門那樣的房子又不夠用了。蔣介石掌握政權後,為了安定人心,教育經費照發了,大學教授的薪不欠了,工資也提高了,特別是名教授月薪六百元,還可以兼課兼薪,北京改為北平,政治中心南移,人口外遷,空房子多出來了,房租也便宜一些了。因此,胡適找到後門米糧庫四號的房子。這座房子比陟山門的房子更大了,更好了,有一個很大的庭院,院中有樹木,有汽車間,有鍋爐和熱水汀,有浴室和衛生間;房間多了,胡適可以接待好友了。徐悲鴻、徐志摩、丁文江等朋友,都是這個時期住在他家。
  他的孩年是在家鄉度過的,十幾歲才到上海,所以他喜歡吃家鄉的飯菜。徽州山多地少,人口眾多,主食為米、面、玉米等。北方以麵食為主,南方以米食為主。徽州人的祖先,多數是在北方,歷代戰亂頻繁時,逃難遷來的。加之人多田少,不能完全靠吃米食,所以徽州人慣於米、面、雜食。吃些米食,也吃些麵食,並且還吃些玉米。歙縣南鄉,幾乎以玉米為主食了。
  胡適的飲食都是鄉土化,可是他吸紙菸是洋化了。他吸的紙菸都是舶來品,如聽裝的白錫包,聽裝的大砲台等。煙癮不大,要吸好的紙菸。每日只吃三餐飯,不吃零食,也不常吃水果。總之,他的生活除吸的紙菸外,其餘的都是一般化。
  胡適歡喜穿中服。茅盾說,他在上海初見胡適時是夏天,胡適穿的是紡綢褂褲,紡綢長衫,足上穿的絲襪,皮鞋,完全是一付上海流行的打扮,他說的情形,確是如此。胡適在國內不愛穿西裝,中山裝更不用談。出國時才穿西裝。衣服的料子都是一般的棉布、絲綢、呢絨、皮毛等。他沒有一件珍貴的衣服,例如貂皮一類。
  他為什麼喜歡穿中服?因為中服舒適方便。穿西裝,夏天則覺熱,冬天則覺冷,春秋二季則緊繃在身上,起坐行動都不舒服。他這般講實用,也是習慣吧。
  胡適夏天戴巴拿馬草帽,其他季節則戴呢帽。除天熱外,他外出時都圍一條毛線圍領巾,以防感冒。江冬秀也沒有很值錢的衣服,至於兒子的衣服,則更是一般了。睡的床也是普通的雙人床;被褥、被單、毯子等也是普通的。總之,他的穿著,說不上樸素,也說不上華麗,只是穿得整齊乾淨,保持他的學者派頭。
  胡適有什麼文娛生活愛好嗎?他曾說過,他在上海讀書時是愛玩的。一九一七年回國後,我接觸他時,沒有看見他打撲克,打麻將是偶一為之。我們知道,二十、三十年代,我國沒有收音機,電視機還沒有問世,那時,只有留聲機,他家有一部,唱片只有百代公司的京劇和粵劇等,這是為他的小孩子買的。他的小三(思杜)少時跟著唱片哼,也學會唱幾段京劇。
  胡適不會唱歌,也不會唱戲,但戲還是要看的,無論京戲、崑曲、話劇等等,他都看的。他不是戲迷,也不捧什麼藝人。一九一八年,他還寫了一篇《文學進化觀念與戲劇改良》的文章,登在 ​​《新青年》上,今天看起來,這篇文章可議的地方很多,但從歷史上來看,尚有史料的價值。
  胡適在上海大舞台看過戲,覺得那 ​​時做戲的人還是趙如泉、沈韻秋等那些老藝人,沒有一個新出的角色。那時,他也在上海游過先施樂園和大世界,看到男女雜坐,不分貧富老少,短衣的人尤多,他說那裡真是平民的娛樂場。到北京後,他也到同樂園看過韓世昌的《遊園驚夢》、陶顯庭的《山門》、侯益隆的《闊帳》。但他特別讚賞的是京劇名坤角孟小冬的演出。我到北京時,演京劇的譚老飯早已不在人間,更談不到程長庚大老闆了。可是余叔岩、楊少樓、梅蘭芳三傑鼎立,其他老藝人健在者還多,京戲雖非鼎盛之際,卻也盛極一時。余叔岩不常演出,但楊、梅二人唱對台,北京的戲迷,大過其戲癮。我不懂戲,但我看戲,以看余叔岩、楊少樓、梅蘭芳、程硯秋為多,至於尚小雲、荀慧生、譚富英、馬連良等人的戲,只偶爾一看。那些坤角的戲,我是不看的。有一晚,胡適看了孟小冬的《擊鼓罵曹》,回家後,贊不絕口。他說,孟小冬的身段、扮相、嗓音、做功,毫無女子氣,真是好極了。叫我去看。我看了孟小冬的戲,果然不錯。我從此改變了對坤角的偏見,也去看新艷秋、雪艷琴、章遏雲的戲了。老白玉霜為評戲,轟動京華,我原來是不看的,後來也看了。
  那時,北京最漂亮的電影院僅有真光電影院,院址在東長安街,主要是放映外國影片,胡適去看的,偶爾也看一看中國的影片。
  北京沒有專門演話劇的場所,也沒有演話劇的團體。只有當年唐槐秋和他的女兒唐若菁主演的《茶花女》話劇,轟動一時,胡適去看過,未加評論。他對劉寶權的大鼓,倒也十分稱讚。
  胡適的朋友,能書善畫的友人很多,可是他不愛收藏字、畫、碑帖,更不喜歡收藏古玩。他對於文娛只是一般的欣賞,並沒有特別的愛好。然則他有什麼愛好嗎?有!他的愛好是在書———收藏書籍。這一點,下節再敘。 



  胡適藏書和書齋

  胡適的藏書。研究學問的人都愛藏書,胡適更甚。他的藏書很多,約有四十書架(大書架),以線裝書為主,外文書比較少些。他的藏書中,少數是他的父親鐵花公留下來的。他的父親有些藏書,一般的圖書為多,好的較少。他一九一七年回國後,曾三次回老家,第一次是探望老母,第二次是結婚,第三次是奔母喪。他把老家好的圖書都帶到北京,一般的還是留在老家,留下的書經過十年內亂,蕩然無存,雖可惜而又不很可惜。這話怎講?因為沒有善本啊!
  哪些書帶到北京,只有他自己知道,別人不知了,因為沒有特別的鈐記,無法識別。我認為,有兩部書是他的父親留下來的,比較可以肯定:一部是《汪士鐸文集》,一部是《鶴肪詩詞》。為什麼這祥說呢?聽我道來。汪士鐸是江蘇江寧人,清道光舉人,名重一時,曾任績溪縣訓導。我外祖父的祖父,在南京做生意,富有資財,重金禮聘汪士鐸到宅坦村教他的孫兒胡寶鐸、胡宗鐸、胡宣鐸(昭甫公,我的外祖父)三人的書。據我的外祖父說,汪對於山川形勢、關隘險要,很有研究,尤其對於徽州的地理,更瞭如指掌。後來,胡林翼、曾國藩聘汪為幕僚,襄贊戎機。我想曾國藩以祁門為抵抗太平軍的大營,說不定還是由於汪士鐸的出謀獻策。
  胡適的父親與寶鐸公、宣鐸公交誼最深,藏有《汪士鐸文集》,是意料中的事情。《鶴舫詩詞》一卷是我族的先輩石芝(號眉生)所著。他是嘉慶、道光間的廩生,著有詩詞,富於人民性,名不出於鄉里,但鄉里中的文人學士藏有他的詩詞者頗不乏人。胡適在《新青年》上登載過他的詩詞數首,就是從這些詩詞中選出的。這本書是他的父親保存下來的,也比較可信。胡適的圖書,大多數是在北京收購的。
  北京琉璃廠有許多古籍書店,他們常常搞些古籍,待高價再行賣出,這些書賈對於哪一家有書要賣出,哪一個人想買進,打聽得一清二楚。他們都知道胡適收藏舊籍,他們就代他收集,送上門讓他選購,選中即留下,不一定馬上付錢,何時付錢都可以,書賈識趣不來催。有些朋友也幫他買書。如他有一部乾隆甲戌(一七五四年)鈔本《脂硯齋重評石頭記》殘本十六回,就是友人幫他買的。
  胡適的藏書,善本不多。胡成之對我說:“他有一部《金瓶梅》是珍本,非常珍視,不輕易給人家看。”我沒有看見過這部書。報載胡適有一部《紅樓夢》甲戌本,寄存在美國哥倫比亞大學,那便是鈔本《脂硯齋重評石頭記》殘本十六回。這部殘本是海內最古的《石頭記》抄本。胡適出了高價把這本書買來。他把這部書存藏在哥倫比亞大學母校,足見他的重視了。抗戰前,胡適的藏書沒有登記,沒有編目,也沒有鈐記。大多數的圖書在書架上,少數的放置書櫥中。什麼書,放在什麼地方,他親自放置,記得清楚,隨時隨手可以拿出。在北京,胡適四次搬家,第一次搬到鐘鼓寺,第二次搬到陟山門,第三次搬到米糧庫,第四次搬到東廠胡同。第二次和第三次搬家,他的圖書都是我和他的從弟胡成之二人整理搬運的。我們事先將書架的書和它們的位置都記住,裝在一木箱內,每個箱,編了號碼,搬到新居後,依次打開,照原樣放置。一九三七年日寇進逼,北京危險,他的藏書打包裝箱,運到天津,保存在浙江興業銀行倉庫。他在美國時,擔憂他的四十架圖書,恐怕要丟失了。幸而浙江興業銀行保管得好,沒有遭受損失。抗戰勝利,他到北京,這些圖書也跟著搬到東廠胡同一號了。後未,他的圖書是否登記,是否編目,是否蓋有圖章,我不得而知了,一九四九年一月,他倉惶南飛,他的圖書絲毫未動,北京和平解放後,這些圖書遂全部歸公了。
  胡適的書齋。我現在談的是胡適住在鐘鼓寺、陟山門、米糧庫三處的書房。這幾處的書房基本上是一樣,大小稍有不同。房內有一張很大的寫字台,一兩個書櫥,一張旋椅,幾張小椅,四壁空空如也,沒有懸掛字畫。書桌上自然有文房四寶,有白錫包或大砲台紙菸一聽,煙灰缸一隻,火柴一盒,記事台歷一本,此外,滿桌都是書籍,看起來很紊亂。桌上的書籍,任何人都不去動它,稍為一移動,他就要費心去找了,傭人只將桌上面的灰塵拂去。他在書房中看書、寫作時,我們都不進去打擾他。江冬秀愛打牌,打牌場所也遠離書房,使打牌的聲音傳不到書房那裡。書桌的抽屜,沒有上鎖,稿件和須要保存的書信,一部分放在抽屜內,另一部分則保存起來。胡適認為,沒有保存的價值和無關重要的書信,看過後隨手丟掉。一九七九年,中國社會科學院近代史研究所編的《胡適來往書信選》,就是他自己保存,臨行匆促,沒有帶走,留在北京家中的一些書信。那時,我們到他的書房去,從來不打開書桌的抽屜,也不翻閱桌上的書籍。但凡是沒有收存起來,閱後丟在桌上的書信,可以隨便閱看的,我看過楊杏佛、劉半農等給他的一些信件。胡適自印有稿紙,直行,每 ​​行二十字,分格,對折,署“胡適稿紙”四字。他寫作時用毛筆,直寫,字體不潦草,很少塗改,一稿完成,好似重抄一遍。實際上他沒有功夫重抄,又不願找人重抄,偶或找他的從弟胡成之和章希呂重抄一些。這是他的硬功夫。他的字雖有書卷氣,卻無功力。我沒有見他練字,碑帖也很少。遇著有人找他寫字,他也揮毫。他不用特別好的筆、墨,更不談有什麼名硯了。
  胡適在家的活動場所主要是在書房,遇著疲倦時,讀些詩詞,看些小說,很少到庭院中散步。少數的朋友,直接可以到書房中和他談天,一般的朋友都在客廳中會見。他晚上出去有事,無論什麼時候回來,總要在書房中看一陣書再行睡眠,這是他的習慣。
  胡適自一九一五年到一九四八年的往來書信,除在親友手中已遭散失外,基本上是保存下來了。我現在要談的是他的稿件問題。胡適寫了許多稿子,有的是寫好而沒有發表,有的是在寫中而沒有完成,如《中國哲學史》等。這些稿件,未知是否保存在東廠胡同一號家中(現該宅為近代史研究所所址),如未在國內,一定是他帶到國外去了。他最珍視自己的稿子和他父親的手稿。據一九三三年十一月十五日他致胡近仁的信中說:“先人自作年譜記至四十歲止,其後有日記二十萬字,尚未校好。其中甚多可貴的材料。詩只有一冊,文集尚未編定,約有十卷。先人全稿已抄有副本。未及校勘校點。連年忙碌,無力了此心願,甚愧。”(此信現保存在胡近仁的孫兒手中)據羅爾綱《師門辱教記》所載,他的父親“全部遺稿分為年譜、文集、詩集、申禀、書啟、日記六種,約八十萬字”。這些手稿,早已帶出去了。所以唐德剛說:“在紐約我看過一部分羅爾綱抄本,已印行的除《台灣記錄兩種》(一九五一年印行)……之外,我記得還看過另一本胡鐵花先生年譜的單行本,然近日在哥大中文圖書館中,卻遍索不得。”據此,鐵花公的手稿,大部分尚未印行。未知這些珍貴的手稿是珍藏在祖望手中,還是保存在哥倫比亞大學中文圖書館中。

2016年9月19日 星期一

逮耀東的〈胡適逛公園〉《胡適與當代史學家》

金晨讀吳鳴教授的受訪文,提到要學生讀 逮耀東的〈胡適逛公園〉。我還沒讀過,應該是收入其《胡適與當代史學家》一書。


吳鳴有關史學文本書寫的一些斷想
   
     
史無定法,筆墨自在─訪彭明輝教授談歷史寫作──鄧福鈞整理
     
前記     這篇訪問稿係應教育部「再造人文社會科學教育發展計畫」東華大學團隊──〈敘事培力與地方傳播─以東臺灣為實踐場域〉之邀,所做的簡短採訪。     在訪談中我提到一些當前臺灣史學文本書寫的現象,雖然祇是一些斷想,尚略可表達我對史學論著的一些看法。      每年秋天我要教一門歷史學系的基礎課史學導論,我發現學生們習慣在網路上找資料拼貼報告。有一部分的原因,可能是中學老師要學生做小論文,學生於是用紙本資料和網路資料做成剪貼簿繳給老師,還獲得高分,讓學生誤以為這樣就是論文。上了上學,仍用同樣的方式剪貼。我希望我的學生如果看到此篇訪談,寫報告時,能夠有一段時間,截斷網路,離開資料,到樹下、到咖啡館去寫作,徒手書寫是使文字流暢的起手式。     有一段時間,法國年鑑史學頗受臺灣史學界推崇,雖然年鑑史學在臺灣學界的根基並非堅實,但其理念仍影響深遠。布洛克(Marc Léopold Benjamin Bloch)在納粹獄中,完成《史家的技藝》,許多歷史系的史學理論、史學方法課老師,可能會將《史家的技藝》列在書單上。但我們也許忘記布洛克是在沒有參考資料的情形下,徒手寫作完成此書。     臺灣歷史學的養成訓練,太習慣一手資料、一手文稿的拼貼式書寫。有些同道使用兩個電腦螢幕,一個螢幕材料,一個螢幕文稿,材料部分,撿到籃子都算菜。文稿部分東拼西湊,寫成的文章祇有三位讀者,自己和兩位審查人。而且因為引述的資料龐雜,有一手文獻,有相關的研究論著,一篇論文摻雜十幾種調性,甚至幾十種調性,寫出來的論著慘不忍睹。如何寫出一篇具有統一調性的論著,允為當前學院史學文本書寫的首要之務。歷史學界主張研究大眾之事,但寫出來的論著,大眾沒有興趣閱讀,寧不可怪。有如唐文標形容張愛玲的小說,一步一步走向沒有光的世界。我忝為史學工作者之一員,屬共犯結構的一部分,固無法自外於此,亦不能推卸責任。如果有史學界同道看到這篇訪談,我同樣建議,在撰寫論著時,有一段時間能夠截斷網路,離開文獻資料,到樹下、到咖啡館,徒手寫作。       訪談的內容略嫌雜沓,敘述不夠周延,亦未臻完整,祇是一些斷想。記錄整理者已然盡力,內容仍由我負責。我所談的是一般現象,並非指涉任何個人,但如果有人要對號入座,無任歡迎。我已準備好臉盆,準備接各種噴出來的口水。       連結顯示的圖有點怪,點進去文章是對的:史無定法,筆墨自在─訪彭明輝教授談歷史寫作──鄧福鈞整理

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《人社東華》電子季刊由國立東華大學人文社會科學學院所創辦,為一個提供人文學科與社會學科對話的平台與交流的園地。
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舍我其誰: 胡適. 日正當中1917-1927. 第二部

https://books.google.com.tw/books?isbn=9570842784 - Translate this page
江勇振 - 2011 - ‎Education
或咖啡館的公共鎮域 128 ,北京的高級餐館、公園就等於是胡適所處的時代的公共鎮 ... 逮耀東的〈胡適逛公園〉已經作了一個非常完整的梳理... o 我在此處要從胡適男性 ...

胡適與當代史學家

胡適與當代史學家
作者逯耀東
出版社: 東大
出版年: 87/01/01
装帧: 精裝本
ISBN: 9789571921679

内容简介  · · · · · ·

胡适与北京大学

這17張照片有幾張很有意思:第一張1923.12.2 缺日記{年譜長編}等,原來胡先生在南京。第9張說程甲本是馬幼魚先生慨然給先生的.....其他各張依注意力和研究的需要,各取所需。

白鹇的相册-胡适与北京大学---此消息是蘇錦坤告訴我的,謝謝。
https://www.douban.com/photos/photo/2382131269/

2016年9月17日 星期六

熊式輝(1893年-1974年),余英時序《海桑集—熊式輝回憶錄》

Wikipedia
熊式輝(1893年-1974年),字天翼江西安義人,是國民政府政學系的要角。

經歷[編輯]

1915年畢業於保定陸軍軍官學校第二期。1924年畢業於日本陸軍大學,回國返粵,任廣州滇軍幹部學校教育長。
1926年夏天北伐戰役國民革命軍第十四軍黨代表,10月兼第一師師長。1927年2月,任江西省政府政務委員會會計長。1928年,任陸軍第五師師長,9月任淞滬警備司令。
1930年5月,任江浙皖三省剿匪總指揮兼陸海軍總司令部參謀長。1931年12月15日,蔣介石召開第四十九次國務會議,任命熊式輝為江西省政府主席。[1]
1933年5月,兼任南昌行營辦公廳主任。1935年10月,任中國國民黨第五屆中央執行委員。
1942年,調任國防最高委員會委員,旋出任駐美領使代表團團長;向美國白宮提出廢除不平等條約,有助於國家地位提升、恢復民族自尊心、功在全國。[2]
1943年秋任中央設計局局長,1944年任中央銀行監事。
1945年5月,任中國國民黨第六屆中央執行委員,9月任東北行營(後改稱東北行轅)主任及東北行營政治委員會主任委員,後離開東北,由當時參謀總長陳誠兼任東北行轅主任。
1947年1月,任國民政府戰略顧問委員會委員。5月20日,東北行轅主任熊式輝向蔣報告東北戰局,請求從速增援;蔣下令堅守長春、永吉、瀋陽,以待增援。[3]:83575月22日,蔣電示東北行轅主任熊式輝保衛四平街戰略[3]:83595月30日,蔣飛臨瀋陽巡視,接見熊式輝,聽取有關東北軍事、政治、經濟等情況之報告,並指示作戰計劃。[3]:83646月15日,原任東北外交特派員蔣經國飛抵瀋陽,當夜趨訪東北戰況之報告;同日,蔣經國飛四平、公主嶺等地視察。[3]:83718月5日,蔣致電東北行轅主任熊式輝,告以東北必須確保之理由。[3]:83938月29日,國民政府令免東北行轅主任熊式輝職;特派陳誠兼東北行轅主任。[3]:84039月1日,新任東北行轅主任陳誠自南京抵達瀋陽;9月5日熊式輝離開瀋陽。[3]:8405
1949年寄居香港澳門,並在曼谷經營紡織廠。
1954年去台灣,偶與當時幽禁的孫立人時有所接觸,1974年病逝於台中

家庭[編輯]

熊式輝一生取過四房太太。原配戴氏,安義人。二太太顧竹筠最受寵,與宋美齡以「乾姐妹」相稱。三太太張氏,九江人。四太太顧柏筠是顧竹筠之妹。

參考文獻[編輯]

  1. ^ 中央日報》,上海:中央日報社,1931年12月16日,第一張第四版
  2. ^ 「一九四二年五月,熊式輝主張中國自行廢除不平等條約,宋子文反對,胡適不甚熱心。六月,熊改向白宮行政助理居里獻策,謂美國對華援助物資有限,正應取消不平等條約,給以精神鼓勵。美國政府認為這是惠而不費之舉,經與英國交換意見後,十月九日,國務卿赫爾通知中國駐美大使魏道明,準備與中國談判放棄在華特權及有關問題的條約,另訂新約。同日,英國亦有此表示,繼之為加拿大、荷蘭、巴西等國。」(引自郭廷以《近代中國史綱》)
  3. 3.0 3.1 3.2 3.3 3.4 3.5 3.6 李新總主編,中國社會科學院近代史研究所中華民國史研究室編,韓信夫、姜克夫主編 (編). 《中華民國史大事記》. 北京中華書局. 2011年7月.
  • 張憲文、方慶秋、黃美真主編:《中華民國史大辭典》,江蘇古籍出版社。

~~~~~

善疑的讀者也許會追問:我們如何能確定日記中敘事的真實性呢?我可以很負責地說:就我所讀過的相關記載而言,《海桑集》中的重大事件大致都可以得到印證,最使我驚異的是作者一九四二年四月二十一日晚間在華盛頓與胡適大使的四小時長談。日記中詳記胡適揭發宋子文在美國種種爭功弄權的表現,其中每一個細節都是我曾在《胡適日記》中讀過的,分毫不差。由於這一段記述得到百分之百的證實,我對本書敘事的忠實是十分信任的。
http://blog.sina.cn/dpool/blog/s/blog_4ae0ef160102wsby.html
余英時序《海桑集—熊式輝回憶錄》

[转载]《海桑集──熊式輝回憶錄(1907-1949)》(余英時序)_铜鹊春深_铜鹊…
BLOG.SINA.CN


2016年9月10日 星期六

中國超發貨幣 重蹈晚清滅亡覆轍?節錄自9月號《信報財經月刊》

中國超發貨幣 重蹈晚清滅亡覆轍?
中國狂印鈔,這種做法在晚清曾出現過,清廷一方面債務纏身,一方面又大灑金錢,秘訣就在於大印「新錢」圖利。不過,「假錢」催出來的泡沫雖然美麗,終有爆破的那一天。
節錄自9月號《信報財經月刊》
----
我們都知道中國30年間GDP增加了100倍,卻很少有人知道與此同時中國的貨幣供應量卻暴增接近900倍!自2007年1月以來,中國M2連續超越了日本、歐洲和美國幾大經濟體,目前相當於歐洲和美國的兩倍,日本的三倍,中國的M2已經相當於這三大經濟體的M2總量的70%左右。
貨幣超發與外滙管制
中國搞貨幣超發是在外滙管制的基礎上進行的,外滙管制要求出口企業必須將出口商品所得外幣賣給央行,央行購買這些外幣的錢並不是它自己擁有的財富,而是利用貨幣發行權發行新的貨幣。這並不是新鮮事,晚清就出現過。
清朝採用的是銀銅並用制度。收入類主要採取白銀計價,比如徵收的各種稅、費等;支出類則主要採取銅錢計價,比如對士兵發放的俸祿等。
1840年鴉片戰爭後,清朝對外大量賠款,白銀加速外流,進一步加劇銅錢貶值,至咸豐年間,銀錢比例已升至2200水平。但1901年慈禧頒布新政後,清朝卻步入「繁榮的十年」,從英國、德國、日本訂購了很多新式艦艇,又大肆編練陸軍新軍,民族資本主義也蓬勃發展。清廷一方面債務纏身,一方面又大灑金錢,秘訣就在於大印「新錢」圖利:9克重的銅元,實際價值為兩文多,面值標注為十文,清廷的利潤竟有七文之多。這樣做必須有個前提,即類似於如今的「外滙管制」:一方面,清政府所開具的各種票據,無論是以白銀還是以銅錢為單位都一樣,不能實際兌換白銀;另一方面,外滙進入大清的地盤必須按規定的牌價兌換成銀票銅錢。
僅有這一條還不夠。清廷不斷濫「印錢」,通脹不斷升溫,出口成本不斷上升,折合成白銀的成本就很高。可是,出口商品的價格是按真實的白銀標價的,產品出不去了,甚至企業倒閉了,最終清廷對外的償付能力就會枯竭。
上海股災 清廷財政雪上加霜
不過,「假錢」催出來的泡沫雖然美麗,終有爆破的那一天。1910年7月,上海股市因橡膠股票狂瀉而瀕臨毀滅,此次風潮迅速波及富庶的江浙地區以及長江流域、東南沿海的大城市,中國工商業遭受重創。粗略統計,華商在上海和倫敦兩地股市損失的資金在4000至4500萬兩白銀之間,而當時清政府的可支配財政收入不過1億兩左右。如此巨款的外流,讓清政府入不敷出的財政狀況雪上加霜。清政府於次年將商辦鐵路「收歸國有」,以路權為抵押向列強借款,導致了辛亥革命的爆發,敲響了清政府的喪鐘。

2016年9月9日 星期五

「公共知識份子」( public intellectual); 董橋:胡適當年八分像「國家知識分子」"state intellectual"

2011年我有一則關於"Cornel West (公共知識份子 public intellectual 1953)/ Christian Wulff"的筆記。「公共知識份子」( public intellectual)  vs 「國家知識分子」(state intellectual) 分別是民主國家和非民主國家的說法。
胡適在他所處的時代之角色,或許與"公共知識份子"更近。



小風景:知識分子幫甚麼閑!

小風景:知識分子幫甚麼閑! | 蘋果日報| 要聞港聞| 20030122



.......早聽說俄羅斯歷來都有不少「國家知識分子」,都是些不當官而又屬於政府智囊的人物,遇事進一步退兩步小罵大幫忙的有識之士。西方論者老覺得這種人怪怪的;我前兩天看到美國報上寫俄國大文豪托爾斯泰的曾姪孫女兒 Tatyana Talstaya,說這位旅美多年的散文大家蘇聯解體後回莫斯科寫小說、做電視節目,有些俄國人覺得她是典型的"state intellectual":"a peculiarly Russian concept meaning an unofficial member of the government team"。她公開支持普京的政權,說普京不斷在團結國人,不像葉利欽那個酒鬼那麼不講道義責任,樣樣事情抓不緊。可是,她始終認為當今的俄國統治者其實從來就沒掌過太大的實權,亮不出老百姓想看到的魄力:「坐第一把交椅的人徒有權力的光環而沒有實際的權力」,她說。
托爾斯塔亞說她一回到俄羅斯就覺得整個氣氛教人洩氣( disappointing)、可怕( frightening)、煩死了( irritating)。俄羅斯其實也跟台灣、香港一樣:一個延續蘇維埃的狂躁症,一個難除民進黨的草根氣,一個照搬共和國的浮誇風,都需要一段長時間的自療過程:「熱臉偎上冷屁股,犯不著!」胡適當年八分像「國家知識分子」,給蔣介石寫長信、當駐美大使受盡閑氣、做《自由中國》雜誌跟政府之間的橋樑,樣樣努力換來的是統治者客氣而冷淡的反應。今天當政的人連這點客氣恐怕都沒有,龍應台還去幫甚麼閑湊甚麼趣!
﹙圖﹚程十髮《雛菊》扇子 

2016年9月8日 星期四

Cornell University:the world’s most beautiful campus

胡先生說過燕京大學的校園是中國最美的之一。
我還沒讀過他對康乃爾大學校園的讚嘆!
可以肯定的是,過去一百多年,該校蒸蒸日上。
Cornell University 更新了封面相片。
Early evening in the late summer at the world’s most beautiful campus.

2016年9月6日 星期二

胡適文選:《中國人的人格》 ;胡適之解釋『功不唐捐』



胡適之先生的名言。值得重登。
~~~~
今晚在重慶南路看到這本胡適之先生的文選,書名讓我莞爾:
中國人的人格
作者: 胡適
出版社:中國工人出版社
出版日期:2016/05/01
語言:簡體中文
《中國人的人格》是對胡適關於人生、社會、文藝、教育等方面的散文、演講及論文的收集和整理,展示了他以人的啟蒙為中心的思想發展軌跡。


在書中,胡適更多的是真誠勸告和諄諄教誨。他面向未來,深信如果每人都多做小事,多研究問題,這個世界會一點點變好,如果為個人多爭一些自由,就會為國家爭到自由。

目錄

第一章寬容與自由
自由主義
容忍與自由
我們要我們的自由
汪蔣通電里提起的自由
中國文化里的自由傳統
人權與約法
《人權與約法》的討論
「寧鳴而死,不默而生」
從民主與獨裁的討論里求得一個共同政治信仰
思想革命與思想自由
當前中國文化問題
個人自由與社會進步
我的信仰
第二章教育與治學
少年中國之精神
論大學學制
選科與擇業
談談大學
大學教育與科學研究
考試與教育
爭取學術獨立的十年計划
差不多先生傳
介紹我自己的思想
新思潮的意義
論國故學
研究國故的方法
再談談整理國故
治學方法(之一)
治學方法(之二)
青年期逐漸領悟的治學方法
第三章人生與思想
新生活
問題與主義
非個人主義的新生活
易卜生主義
美國的婦人
貞操問題
我們對於西洋近代文明的態度
「我的兒子」
哲學與人生
從歷史上看哲學是什麼
思想的方法
杜威哲學
第四章雜談及其他
信心與反省
再論信心與反省
三論信心與反省
為什麼讀書
讀書
讀書的習慣重於方法
悲觀聲浪里的樂觀
充分世界化與全盤西化
女子問題
打破浪漫病
怕老婆的故事
科學的人生觀
研究社會問題的方法
中國歷史的一個看法


1 年前查看你的動態回顧




Hanching Chung
2015年9月6日 ·



不過我想起胡適之解釋過的:「……古人說的『功不唐捐』(『唐』是古白話的『空』,『捐』是廢『棄』)(No effort is ever in vain.)的意思,…….」(1951年3月1日胡適致陳重甫。轉引自吳相湘著《近代人和事》台北:三民,頁110-11),認為這主題還不錯,可以作為「2010年紀念戴明研討會/講座」的一場演講。
系統與變異: 淵博知識與理想設計法 (2010)


University of Oxford
"I lived not in vain" is the motto of College of the Week, St Hilda's.

2016年9月2日 星期五

周質平與黃克武等3人在中國CCTV 談胡適(2014)



謝啦。剛剛才看了。雖人有點浮光掠影或小錯,也無法談學術,還算可以啦。

On Thu, Sep 1, 2016 at 10:06 PM, Yifer <yiferb@gmail.com> wrote:

2016年9月1日 星期四

胡適1911.6.2 的日記: Jonathan Swift By William Makepeace Thackeray

胡適1911.6.2 的日記,說他讀此篇 "Thackeray's Swift 。Swift 著《海外軒渠錄 》(《汗漫遊》)。 Thackeray集著《新婦人集》者。"這些書名都是當時的稱呼,可能是現在的:《格列佛遊記/格理拂遊記》、《浮華世界》。

   Essays: English and American.
The Harvard Classics.  1909–14.
 
Jonathan Swift
 
William Makepeace Thackeray
 
 
IN 1 treating of the English humourists of the past age, it is of the men and of their lives, rather than of their books, that I ask permission to speak to you; and in doing so, you are aware that I cannot hope to entertain you with a merely humorous or facetious story. Harlequin without his mask is known to present a very sober countenance, and was himself, the story goes, the melancholy patient whom the Doctor advised to go and see Harlequin—a man full of cares and perplexities like the rest of us, whose Self must always be serious to him, under whatever mask or disguise or uniform he presents it to the public. And as all of you here must needs be grave when you think of your own past and present, you will not look to find, in the histories of those whose lives and feelings I am going to try and describe to you, a story that is otherwise than serious, and often very sad. If Humour only meant laughter, you would scarcely feel more interest about humorous writers than about the private life of poor Harlequin just mentioned, who possesses in common with these the power of making you laugh. But the men regarding whose lives and stories your kind presence here shows that you have curiosity and sympathy, appeal to a great number of our other faculties, besides our mere sense of ridicule. The humorous writer professes to awaken and direct your love, your pity, your kindness—your scorn for untruth, pretension, imposture—your tenderness for the weak, the poor, the oppressed, the unhappy. To the best of his means and ability he comments on all the ordinary actions and passions of life almost. He takes upon himself to be himself to be the week-day preacher, so to speak. Accordingly, as he finds, and speaks, and feels the truth best we regard him, esteem him—sometimes love him. And, as his business is to mark other people’s lives and peculiarities, we moralize upon his life when he is gone—and yesterday’s preacher becomes the text for to-day’s sermon.  1
  Of English parents, and of a good English family of clergymen, Swift was born in Dublin in 1667, seven months after the death of his father, who had come to practise there as a lawyer. The boy went to school at Kilkenny, and afterwards to Trinity College, Dublin, where he got a degree with difficulty, and was wild, and witty, and poor. In 1688, by the recommendation of his mother, Swift was received into the family of Sir William Temple, who had known Mrs. Swift in Ireland. He left his patron in 1694, and the next year took orders in Dublin. But he threw up the small Irish preferment which he got and returned to Temple, in whose family he remained until Sir William’s death in 1699. His hopes of advancement in England failing, Swift returned to Ireland, and took the living of Laracor. Hither he invited Hester Johnson, Temple’s natural daughter, with whom he had contracted a tender friendship, while they were both dependants of Temple’s. And with an occasional visit to England, Swift now passed nine years at home.  2
  In 1709 he came to England, and, with a brief visit to Ireland, during which he took possession of his deanery of St. Patrick, he now passed five years in England, taking the most distinguished part in the political transactions which terminated with the death of Queen Anne. After her death, his party disgraced, and his hopes of ambition over, Swift returned to Dublin, where he remained twelve years. In this time he wrote the famous “Drapier’s Letters” and “Gulliver’s Travels.” He married Hester Johnson, Stella, and buried Esther Vanhomrigh, Vanessa, who had followed him to Ireland from London, where she had contracted a violent passion for him. In 1726 and 1727 Swift was in England, which he quitted for the last time on hearing of his wife’s illness. Stella died in January, 1728, and Swift not until 1745, having passed the last five of the seventy-eight years of his life with an impaired intellect and keepers to watch him.  3
  You know, of course, that Swift has had many biographers; his life has been told by the kindest and most good-natured of men, Scott, who admires but can’t bring himself to love him; and by stout old Johnson, who, forced to admit him into the company of poets, receives the famous Irishman, and takes off his hat to him with a bow of surly recognition, scans him from head to foot, and passes over to the other side of the street. Dr. Wilde of Dublin, who has written a most interesting volume on the closing years of Swift’s life, calls Johnson “the most malignant of his biographers”: it is not easy for an English critic to please Irishmen—perhaps to try and please them. And yet Johnson truly admires Swift: Johnson does not quarrel with Swift’s change of politics, or doubt his sincerity of religion: about the famous Stella and Vanessa controversy the Doctor does not bear very hardly on Swift. But he could not give the Dean that honest hand of his; the stout old man puts it into his breast, and moves off from him.  4
  Would we have liked to live with him? That is a question which, in dealing with these people’s works, and thinking of their lives and peculiarities, every reader of biographies must put to himself. Would you have liked to be a friend of the great Dean? I should like to have been Shakespeare’s shoeblack—just to have lived in his house, just to have worshipped him—to have run on his errands, and seen that sweet serene face. I should like, as a young man, to have lived on Fielding’s staircase in the Temple, and after helping him up to bed perhaps, and opening his door with his latch-key, to have shaken hands with him in the morning, and heard him talk and crack jokes over his breakfast and his mug of small beer. Who would not give something to pass a night at the club with Johnson, and Goldsmith, and James Boswell, Esq., of Auchinleck? The charm of Addison’s companionship and conversation has passed to us by fond tradition—but Swift? If you had been his inferior in parts (and that, with a great respect for all persons present, I fear is only very likely), his equal in mere social station, he would have bullied, scorned, and insulted you; if, undeterred by his great reputation, you had met him like a man, he would have quailed before you, and not had the pluck to reply, and gone home, and years after written a foul epigram about you—watched for you in a sewer, and come out to assail you with a coward’s blow and a dirty bludgeon. If you had been a lord with a blue riband, who flattered his vanity, or could help his ambition, he would have been the most delightful company in the world. He would have been so manly, so sarcastic, so bright, odd, and original, that you might think he had no object in view but the indulgence of his humour and that he was the most reckless, simple creature in the world. How he would have torn your enemies to pieces for you! and made fun of the Opposition! His servility was so boisterous that it looked like independence; he would have done your errands, but with the air of patronizing you, and after fighting your battles, masked, in the street or the press, would have kept on his hat before your wife and daughters in the drawing-room, content to take that sort of pay for his tremendous services as a bravo.  5
  He says as much himself in one of his letters to Bolingbroke:—“All my endeavours to distinguish myself were only for want of a great title and fortune, that I might be used like a lord by those who have an opinion of my parts; whether right or wrong is no great matter. And so the reputation of wit and great learning does the office of a blue riband or a coach and six.”  6
  Could there be a greater candour? It is an outlaw, who says, “These are my brains; with these I’ll win titles and compete with fortune. These are my bullets; these I’ll turn into gold”; and he hears the sound of coaches and six, takes the road like Macheath, and makes society stand and deliver. They are all on their knees before him. Down go my lord bishop’s apron, and his Grace’s blue riband, and my lady’s brocade petticoat in the mud. He eases the one of a living, the other of a patent place, the third of a little snug post about the Court, and gives them over to followers of his own. The great prize has not come yet. The coach with the mitre and crosier in it, which he intends to have for his share, has been delayed on the way from St. James’; and he waits and waits until nightfall, when his runners come and tell him that the coach has taken a different road, and escaped him. So he fires his pistols into the air with a curse, and rides away into his own country.  7
  Swift’s seems to me to be as good a name to point a moral or adorn a tale of ambition, as any hero’s that ever lived and failed. But we must remember that the morality was lax—that other gentlemen besides himself took the road in his day—that public society was in a strange disordered condition, and the State was ravaged by other condottieri. The Boyne was being fought and won, and lost—the bells rung in William’s victory, in the very same tone with which they would have pealed for James’. Men were loose upon politics, and had to shift for themselves. They, as well as old beliefs and institutions, had lost their moorings and gone adrift in the storm. As in the South Sea Bubble, almost everybody gambled; as in the Railway mania—not many centuries ago—almost every one took his unlucky share: a man of that time, of the vast talents and ambition of Swift, could scarce do otherwise than grasp at his prize, and make his spring at his opportunity. His bitterness, his scorn, his rage, his subsequent misanthropy, are ascribed by some panegyrists to a deliberate conviction of mankind’s unworthiness, and a desire to amend them by castigating. His youth was bitter, as that of a great genius bound down by ignoble ties, and powerless in a mean dependence; his age was bitter, like that of a great genius that had fought the battle and nearly won it, and lost it, and thought of it afterwards writhing in a lonely exile. A man may attribute to the gods, if he likes, what is caused by his own fury, or disappointment, or self-will. What public man—what statesman projecting a coup—what king determined on an invasion of his neighbour—what satirist meditating an onslaught on society or an individual, can’t give a pretext for his move? There was a French general the other day who proposed to march into this country and put it to sack and pillage, in revenge for humanity outraged by our conduct at Copenhagen: there is always some excuse for men of the aggressive turn. They are of their nature warlike, predatory, eager for fight, plunder, dominion.  8
  As fierce a beak and talon as ever struck—as strong a wing as ever beat, belonged to Swift. I am glad, for one, that fate wrested the prey out of his claws, and cut his wings and chained him. One can gaze, and not without awe and pity, at the lonely eagle chained behind the bars.  9
  That Swift was born at No. 7, Hoey’s Court, Dublin, on the 30th November, 1667, is a certain fact, of which nobody will deny the sister island the honour and glory; but, it seems to me, he was no more an Irishman than a man born of English parents at Calcutta is a Hindoo. Goldsmith was an Irishman, and always an Irishman: Steele was an Irishman, and always an Irishman: Swift’s heart was English and in England, his habits English, his logic eminently English; his statement is elaborately simple; he shuns tropes and metaphors, and uses his ideas and words with a wise thrift and economy, as he used his money: with which he could be generous and splendid upon great occasions, but which he husbanded when there was no need to spend it. He never indulges in needless extravagance of rhetoric, lavish epithets, profuse imagery. He lays his opinion before you with a grave simplicity and a perfect neatness. Dreading ridicule too, as a man of his humour—above all an Englishman of his humour—certainly would, he is afraid to use the poetical power which he really possessed; one often fancies in reading him that he dares not be eloquent when he might; that he does not speak above his voice, as it were, and the tone of society.  10
  His initiation into politics, his knowledge of business, his knowledge of polite life, his acquaintance with literature even, which he could not have pursued very sedulously during that reckless career at Dublin, Swift got under the roof of Sir William Temple. He was fond of telling in after life what quantities of books he devoured there, and how King William taught him to cut asparagus in the Dutch fashion. It was at Shene and at Moor Park, with a salary of twenty pounds and a dinner at the upper servants’ table, that this great and lonely Swift passed a ten years’ apprenticeship—wore a cassock that was only not a livery—bent down a knee as proud as Lucifer’s to supplicate my lady’s good graces, or run on his honour’s errands. It was here, as he was writing at Temple’s table, or following his patron’s walk, that he saw and heard the men who had governed the great world—measured himself with them, looking up from his silent corner, gauged their brains, weighed their wits, turned them, and tried them, and marked them. Ah! what platitudes he must have heard! what feeble jokes! what pompous commonplaces! what small men they must have seemed under those enormous periwigs, to the swarthy, uncouth, silent Irish secretary. I wonder whether it ever struck Temple, that that Irishman was his master? I suppose that dismal conviction did not present itself under the ambrosial wig, or Temple could never have lived with Swift. Swift sickened, rebelled, left the service—ate humble pie and came back again; and so for ten years went on, gathering learning, swallowing scorn, and submitting with a stealthy rage to his fortune.  11
  Temple’s style is the perfection of practised and easy good-breeding. If he does not penetrate very deeply into a subject, he professes a very gentlemanly acquaintance with it; if he makes rather a parade of Latin, it was the custom of his day, as it was the custom for a gentleman to envelope his head in a periwig and his hands in lace ruffles. If he wears buckles and square-toed shoes, he steps in them with a consummate grace, and you never hear their creak, or find them treading upon any lady’s train or any rival’s heels in the Court crowd. When that grows too hot or too agitated for him, he politely leaves it. He retires to his retreat of Shene or Moor Park; and lets the King’s party and the Prince of Orange’s party battle it out among themselves. He reveres the Sovereign (and no man perhaps ever testified to his loyalty by so elegant a bow); he admires the Prince of Orange; but there is one person whose ease and comfort he loves more than all the princes in Christendom, and that valuable member of society is himself, Gulielmus Temple, Baronettus. One sees him in his retreat; between his study-chair and his tulip-beds, clipping his apricots and pruning his essays,—the statesman, the ambassador no more; but the philosopher, the Epicurean, the fine gentleman and courtier at St. James’ as at Shene; where in place of kings and fair ladies, he pays his court to the Ciceronian majesty; or walks a minuet with the Epic Muse; or dallies by the south wall with the ruddy nymph of gardens.  12
  Temple seems to have received and exacted a prodigious deal of veneration from his household, and to have been coaxed, and warmed, and cuddled by the people round about him, as delicately as any of the plants which he loved. When he fell ill in 1693, the household was aghast at his indisposition: mild Dorothea, his wife, the best companion of the best of men—
        “Mild Dorothea, peaceful, wise, and great,
Trembling beheld the doubtful hand of fate.”
As for Dorinda, his sister,—
        “Those who would grief describe, might come and trace
Its watery footsteps in Dorinda’s face.
To see her weep, joy every face forsook,
And grief flung sables on each menial look.
The humble tribe mourned for the quickening soul,
That furnished spirit and motion through the whole.”
Isn’t that line in which grief is described as putting the menials into a mourning livery, a fine image? One of the menials wrote it, who did not like that Temple livery nor those twenty-pound wages. Cannot one fancy the uncouth young servitor, with downcast eyes, books and papers in hand, following at his honour’s heels in the garden walk; or taking his honour’s orders as he stands by the great chair, where Sir William has the gout, and his feet all blistered with moxa? When Sir William has the gout or scolds it must be hard work at the second table; the Irish secretary owned as much afterwards: and when he came to dinner, how he must have lashed and growled and torn the household with his gibes and scorn! What would the steward say about the pride of them Irish schollards—and this one had got no great credit even at his Irish college, if the truth were known—and what a contempt his Excellency’s own gentleman must have had for Parson Teague from Dublin. (The valets and chaplains were always at war. It is hard to say which Swift thought the more contemptible.) And what must have been the sadness, the sadness and terror, of the housekeeper’s little daughter with the curling black ringlets and the sweet smiling face, when the secretary who teaches her to read and write, and whom she loves and reverences above all things—above mother, above mild Dorothea, above that tremendous Sir William in his square-toes and periwig,—when Mr. Swift comes down from his master with rage in his heart, and has not a kind word even for little Hester Johnson?
  13
  Perhaps, for the Irish secretary, his Excellency’s condescension was even more cruel than his frowns. Sir William would perpetually quote Latin and the ancient classicsàpropos of his gardens and his Dutch statues and plates-bandes, and talk about Epicurus and Diogenes Lærtius, Julius Caesar, Semiramis, and the gardens of the Hesperides, Mæcenas, Strabo describing Jericho, and the Assyrian kings. Àpropos of beans, he would mention Pythagoras’ precept to abstain from beans, and that this precept probably meant that wise men should abstain from public affairs. He is a placid Epicurean; he is a Pythagorean philosopher; he is a wise man—that is the deduction. Does not Swift think so? One can imagine the downcast eyes lifted up for a moment, and the flash of scorn which they emit. Swift’s eyes were as azure as the heavens; Pope says nobly (as everything Pope said and thought of his friend was good and noble), “His eyes are as azure as the heavens, and have a charming archness in them.” And one person in that household, that pompous, stately, kindly Moor Park, saw heaven nowhere else.  14
  But the Temple amenities and solemnities did not agree with Swift. He was half-killed with a surfeit of Shene pippins; and in a garden-seat which he devised for himself at Moor Park, and where he devoured greedily the stock of books within his reach, he caught a vertigo and deafness which punished and tormented him through life. He could not bear the place or the servitude. Even in that poem of courtly condolence, from which we have quoted a few lines of mock melancholy, he breaks out of the funeral procession with a mad shriek, as it were, and rushes away crying his own grief, cursing his own fate, foreboding madness, and forsaken by fortune, and even hope.  15
  I don’t know anything more melancholy than the letter to Temple, in which, after having broke from his bondage, the poor wretch crouches piteously towards his cage again, and deprecates his master’s anger. He asks for testimonials for orders. “The particulars required of me are what relate to morals and learning; and the reasons of quitting your honour’s family—that is, whether the last was occasioned by any ill action. They are left entirely to your honour’s mercy, though in the first I think I cannot reproach myself for anything further than for infirmities. This is all I dare at present beg from your honour, under circumstances of life not worth your regard: what is left me to wish (next to the health and prosperity of your honour and family) is that Heaven would one day allow me the opportunity of leaving my acknowledgments at your feet. I beg my most humble duty and service be presented to my ladies, your honour’s lady and sister.”—Can prostration fall deeper? could a slave bow lower?  16
  Twenty years afterwards Bishop Kennet, describing the same man, says, “Dr. Swift came into the coffee-house and had a bow from everybody but me. When I came to the antechamber [at Court] to wait before prayers, Dr. Swift was the principal man of talk and business. He was soliciting the Earl of Arran to speak to his brother, the Duke of Ormond, to get a place for a clergyman. He was promising Mr. Thorold to undertake, with my Lord Treasurer, that he should obtain a salary of 200l. per annum as member of the English Church at Rotterdam. He stopped F. Gwynne, Esq., going into the Queen with the red bag, and told him aloud, he had something to say to hie from my Lord Treasurer. He took out his gold watch, and telling the time of day, complained that it was very late. A gentleman said he was too fast. ‘How can I help it,’ says the Doctor, ‘if the courtiers give me a watch that won’t go right?’ Then he instructed a young nobleman, that the best poet in England was Mr. Pope (a Papist), who had begun a translation of Homer into English, for which he would have them all subscribe: ‘For,’ says he, ‘he shall not begin to print till I have a thousand guineas for him.’ Lord Treasurer, after leaving the Queen, came through the room, beckoning Dr. Swift to follow him,—both went off just before prayers.” There’s a little malice in the Bishop’s “just before prayers.”  17
  This picture of the great Dean seems a true one, and is harsh, though not altogether unpleasant. He was doing good, and to deserving men too, in the midst of these intrigues and triumphs. His journals and a thousand anecdotes of him relate his kind acts and rough manners. His hand was constantly stretched out to relieve an honest man—he was cautious about his money, but ready.—If you were in a strait would you like such a benefactor? I think I would rather have had a potato and a friendly word from Goldsmith than have been beholden to the Dean for a guinea and a dinner. He insulted a man as he served him, made women cry, guests look foolish, bullied unlucky friends, and flung his benefactions into poor men’s faces. No; the Dean was no Irishman—no Irishman ever gave but with a kind word and a kind heart.  18
  It is told, as if it were to Swift’s credit, that the Dean of St. Patrick’s performed his family devotions every morning regularly, but with such secrecy that the guests in his house were never in the least aware of the ceremony. There was no need surely why a church dignitary should assemble his family privily in a crypt, and as if he was afraid of heathen persecution. But I think the world was right, and the bishops who advised Queen Anne, when they counselled her not to appoint the author of the “Tale of a Tub” to a bishopric, gave perfectly good advice. The man who wrote the arguments and illustrations in that wild book, could not but be aware what must be the sequel of the propositions which he laid down. The boon companion of Pope and Bolingbroke, who chose these as the friends of his life, and the recipients of his confidence and affection, must have heard many an argument, and joined in many a conversation over Pope’s port, or St. John’s burgundy, which would not bear to be repeated at other men’s boards.  19
  I know of few things more conclusive as to the sincerity of Swift’s religion than his advice to poor John Gay to turn clergyman, and look out for a seat on the Bench. Gay, the author of the “Beggar’s Opera”—Gay, the wildest of the wits about town—it was this man that Jonathan Swift advised to take orders—to invest in a cassock and bands—just as he advised him to husband his shillings and put his thousand pounds out at interest. The Queen, and the bishops, and the world, were right in mistrusting the religion of that man.  20
  I am not here, of course, to speak of any man’s religious views, except in so far as they influence his literary character, his life, his humour. The most notorious sinners of all those fellow-mortals whom it is our business to discuss—Harry Fielding and Dick Steele, were especially loud, and I believe really fervent, in their expressions of belief; they belaboured freethinkers, and stoned imaginary atheists on all sorts of occasions, going out of their way to bawl their own creed, and persecute their neighbour’s, and if they sinned and stumbled, as they constantly did with debt, with drink, with all sorts of bad behaviour, they got upon their knees and cried “Peccavi” with a most sonorous orthodoxy. Yes; poor Harry Fielding and poor Dick Steele were trusty and undoubting Church of England men; they abhorred Popery, Atheism, and wooden shoes, and idolatries in general; and hiccupped Church and State with fervour.  21
  But Swift? His mind had had a different schooling, and possessed a very different logical power. He was not bred up in a tipsy guard-room, and did not learn to reason in a Covent Garden tavern. He could conduct an argument from beginning to end. He could see forward with a fatal clearness. In his old age, looking at the “Tale of a Tub,” when he said, “Good God, what a genius I had when I wrote that book!” I think he was admiring not the genius, but the consequences to which the genius had brought him—a vast genius, a magnificent genius, a genius wonderfully bright, and dazzling, and strong,—to seize, to know, to see, to flash upon falsehood and scorch it into perdition, to penetrate into the hidden motives, and expose the black thoughts of men,—an awful, an evil spirit.  22
  Ah man! you, educated in Epicurean Temple’s library, you whose friends were Pope and St. John—what made you to swear to fatal vows, and bind yourself to a life-long hypocrisy before the Heaven which you adored with such real wonder, humility, and reverence? For Swift was a reverent, was a pious spirit—for Swift could love and could pray. Through the storms and tempests of his furious mind, the stars of religion and love break out in the blue, shining serenely, though hidden by the driving clouds and the maddened hurricane of his life.  23
  It is my belief that he suffered frightfully from the consciousness of his own scepticism, and that he had bent his pride so far down as to put his apostasy out to hire. The paper left behind him, called “Thoughts on Religion,” is merely a set of excuses for not professing disbelief. He says of his sermons that he preached pamphlets: they have scarce a Christian characteristic; they might be preached from the steps of a synagogue, or the floor of a mosque, or the box of a coffee-house almost. There is little or no cant—he is too great and too proud for that; and, in so far as the badness of his sermons goes, he is honest. But having put that cassock on, it poisoned him: he was strangled in his bands. He goes through life, tearing, like a man possessed with a devil. Like Abudah in the Arabian story, he is always looking out for the Fury, and knows that the night will come and the inevitable hag with it. What a night, my God, it was! what a lonely rage and long agony—what a vulture that tore the heart of that giant! It is awful to think of the great sufferings of this great man. Through life he always seems alone, somehow. Goethe was so. I can’t fancy Shakespeare otherwise. The giants must live apart. The kings can have no company. But this man suffered so; and deserved so to suffer. One hardly reads anywhere of such a pain.  24
  The “sæva indignatio” of which he spoke as lacerating his heart, and which he dares to inscribe on his tombstone—as if the wretch who lay under that stone waiting God’s judgment had a right to be angry,—breaks out from him in a thousand pages of his writing, and tears and rends him. Against men in office, he having been overthrown; against men in England, he having lost his chance of preferment there, the furious exile never fails to rage and curse. Is it fair to call the famous “Drapier’s Letters” patriotism? They are masterpieces of dreadful humour and invective: they are reasoned logically enough too, but the proposition is as monstrous and fabulous as the Lilliputian island. It is not that the grievance is so great, but there is his enemy—the assault is wonderful for its activity and terrible rage. It is Samson, with a bone in his hand, rushing on his enemies and felling them: one admires not the cause so much as the strength, the anger, the fury of the champion. As is the case with madmen, certain subjects provoke him, and awaken his fits of wrath. Marriage is one of these; in a hundred passages in his writings he rages against it; rages against children; an object of constant satire, even more contemptible in his eyes than a lord’s chaplain, is a poor curate with a large family. The idea of this luckless paternity never fails to bring down from him gibes and foul language. Could Dick Steele, or Goldsmith, or Fielding, in his most reckless moment of satire, have written anything like the Dean’s famous “modest proposal” for eating children? Not one of these but melts at the thoughts of childhood, fondles and caresses it. Mr. Dean has no such softness, and enters the nursery with the tread and gaiety of an ogre. “I have been assured,” says he in the “Modest Proposal,” “by a very knowing American of my acquaintance in London, that a young healthy child, well nursed, is, at a year old, a most delicious, nourishing, and wholesome food, whether stewed, roasted, baked, or boiled; and I make no doubt it will equally serve in a ragoût.” And taking up this pretty joke, as his way is, he argues it with perfect gravity and logic. He turns and twists this subject in a score of different ways: he hashes it; and he serves it up cold; and he garnishes it; and relishes it always. He describes the little animal as “dropped from its dam,” advising that the mother should let it suck plentifully in the last month, so as to render it plump and fat for a good table!  25
  “A child,” says his Reverence, “will make two dishes at an entertainment for friends; and when the family dines alone, the fore or hind quarter will make a reasonable dish,” and so on; and, the subject being so delightful that he can’t leave it, he proceeds to recommend, in place of venison for squires’ tables, “the bodies of young lads and maidens not exceeding fourteen or under twelve.” Amiable humourist! laughing castigator of morals! There was a process well known and practised in the Dean’s gay days: when a lout entered the coffee-house, the wags proceeded to what they called “roasting” him. This is roasting a subject with a vengeance. The Dean had a native genius for it. As the “Almanach des Gourmands” says, On nait rôtisseur.  26
  And it was not merely by the sarcastic method that Swift exposed the unreasonableness of loving and having children. In Gulliver, the folly of love and marriage is urged by graver arguments and advice. In the famous Lilliputian kingdom, Swift speaks with approval of the practice of instantly removing children from their parents and educating them by the State; and amongst his favourite horses, a pair of foals are stated to be the very utmost a well-regulated equine couple would permit themselves. In fact, our great satirist was of opinion that conjugal love was unadvisable, and illustrated the theory by his own practice and example—God help him—which made him about the most wretched being in God’s world.  27
  The grave and logical conduct of an absurd proposition, as exemplified in the cannibal proposal just mentioned, is our author’s constant method through all his works of humour. Given a country of people six inches or sixty feet high, and by the mere process of the logic, a thousand wonderful absurdities are evolved, at so many stages of the calculation. Turning to the first minister who waited behind him with a white staff near as tall as the mainmast of the “Royal Sovereign,” the King of Brobdingnag observes how contemptible a thing human grandeur is as represented by such a contemptible little creature as Gulliver. “The Emperor of Lilliput’s features are strong and masculine” (what a surprising humour there is in this description!)—“The Emperor’s features.” Gulliver says “are strong and masculine, with an Austrian lip, an arched nose, his complexion olive, his countenance erect, his body and limbs well proportioned, and his deportment majestic. He is taller by the breadth of my nail than any of his court, which alone is enough to strike an awe into beholders.”  28
  What a surprising humour there is in these descriptions! How noble the satire is here! how just and honest! How perfect the image! Mr. Macaulay has quoted the charming lines of the poet, where the king of the pigmies is measured by the same standard. We have all read in Milton of the spear that was like “the mast of some tall admiral,” but these images are surely likely to come to the comic poet originally. The subject is before him. He is turning it in a thousand ways. He is full of it. The figure suggests itself naturally to him, and comes out of his subject, as in that wonderful passage when Gulliver’s box having been dropped by the eagle into the sea, and Gulliver having been received into the ship’s cabin, he calls upon the crew to bring the box into the cabin, and put it on the table, the cabin being only a quarter the size of the box. It is the veracity of the blunder which is so admirable. Had a man come from such a country as Brobdingnag he would have blundered so.  29
  But the best stroke of humour, if there be a best in the abounding book, is that where Gulliver, in the unpronounceable country, describes his parting from his master the horse. “I took,” he says, “a second leave of my master, but as I was going to prostrate myself to kiss his hoof, he did me the honour to raise it gently to my mouth. I am not ignorant how much I have been censured for mentioning this last particular. Detractors are pleased to think it improbable that so illustrious a person should descend to give so great a mark of distinction to a creature so inferior as I. Neither have I forgotten how apt some travellers are to boast of extraordinary favours they have received. But if these censurers were better acquainted with the noble and courteous disposition of the Houyhnhnms they would soon change their opinion.”  30
  The surprise here, the audacity of circumstantial evidence, the astounding gravity of the speaker, who is not ignorant how much he has been censured, the nature of the favour conferred, and the respectful exultation at the receipt of it, are surely complete; it is truth topsy-turvy, entirely logical and absurd.  31
  As for the humour and conduct of this famous fable, I suppose there is no person who reads but must admire; as for the moral, I think it horrible, shameful, unmanly, blasphemous; and giant and great as this Dean is, I say we should hoot him. Some of this audience mayn’t have read the last part of Gulliver, and to such I would recall the advice of the venerable Mr. Punch to persons about to marry, and say “Don’t.” When Gulliver first lands among the Yahoos, the naked howling wretches clamber up trees and assault him, and he describes himself as “almost stifled with the filth which fell about him.” The reader of the fourth part of “Gulliver’s Travels” is like the hero himself in this instance. It is Yahoo language: a monster gibbering shrieks, and gnashing imprecations against mankind—tearing down all shreds of modesty, past all sense of manliness and shame; filthy in word, filthy in thought, furious, raging, obscene.  32
  And dreadful it is to think that Swift knew the tendency of his creed—the fatal rocks towards which his logic desperately drifted. That last part of “Gulliver” is only a consequence of what has gone before; and the worthlessness of all mankind, the pettiness, cruelty, pride, imbecility, the general vanity, the foolish pretension, the mock greatness, the pompous dulness, the mean aims, the base successes—all these were present to him; it was with the din of these curses of the world, blasphemies against heaven, shrieking in his ears, that he began to write his dreadful allegory—of which the meaning is that man is utterly wicked, desperate and imbecile, and his passions are so monstrous, and his boasted powers so mean, that he is and deserves to be the slave of brutes, and ignorance is better than his vaunted reason. What had this man done? what secret remorse was rankling at his heart? what fever was boiling in him, that he should see all the world bloodshot? We view the world with our own eyes, each of us; and we make from within us the world we see. A weary heart gets no gladness out of sunshine; a selfish man is sceptical about friendship, as a man with no ear doesn’t care for music. A frightful self-consciousness it must have been, which looked on mankind do darkly through those keen eyes of Swift.  33
  A remarkable story is told by Scott, of Delany, who interrupted Archbishop King and Swift in a conversation which left the prelate in tears, and from which Swift rushed away with marks of strong terror and agitation in his countenance, upon which the Archbishop said to Delany, “You have just met the most unhappy man on earth; but on the subject of his wretchedness you must never ask a question.”  34
  The most unhappy man on earth;—Miserrimus—what a character of him! And at this time all the great wits of England had been at his feet. All Ireland had shouted after him, and worshipped him as a liberator, a saviour, the greatest Irish patriot and citizen. Dean Drapier Bickerstaff Gulliver—the most famous statesmen, and the greatest poets of his day, had applauded him, and done him homage; and at this time writing over to Bolingbroke from Ireland, he says, “It is time for me to have done with the world, and so I would if I could get into a better before I was called into the best, and not die here in a rage, like a poisoned rat in a hole.”  35
  We have spoken about the men, and Swift’s behaviour to them; and now it behoves us not to forget that there are certain other persons in the creation who had rather intimate relations with the great Dean. Two women whom he loved and injured are known by every reader of books so familiarly that if we had seen them, or if they had been relatives of our own, we scarcely could have known them better. Who hasn’t in his mind an image of Stella? Who does not love her? Fair and tender creature: pure and affectionate heart! Boots it to you, now that you have been at rest for a hundred and twenty years, not divided in death from the cold heart which caused yours, whilst it beat, such faithful pangs of love and grief—boots it to you now, that the whole world loves and deplores you? Scarce any man, I believe, ever thought of that grave, that did not cast a flower of pity on it, and write over it a sweet epitaph. Gentle lady, so lovely, so loving, so unhappy! you have had countless champions; millions of manly hearts mourning for you. From generation to generation we take up the fond tradition of your beauty; we watch and follow your tragedy, your bright morning love and purity, your constancy, your grief, your sweet martyrdom. We know your legend by heart. You are one of the saints of English story.  36
  And if Stella’s love and innocence are charming to contemplate, I will say that in spite of ill-usage, in spite of drawbacks, in spite of mysterious separation and union, of hope delayed and sickened heart—in the teeth of Vanessa, and that little episodical aberration which plunged Swift into such woful pitfalls and quagmires of amorous perplexity—in spite of the verdicts of most women, I believe, who, as far as my experience and conversation go, generally take Vanessa’s part in the controversy—in spite of the tears which Swift caused Stella to shed, and the rocks and barriers which fate and temper interposed, and which prevented the pure course of that true love from running smoothly—the brightest part of Swift’s story, the pure star in that dark and tempestuous life of Swift’s, is his love for Hester Johnson. It has been my business, professionally of course, to go through a deal of sentimental reading in my time, and to acquaint myself with love-making, as it has been described in various languages, and at various ages of the world; and I know of nothing more manly, more tender, more exquisitely touching, that some of these brief note, written in what Swift calls “his little language” in his journal to Stella.  37
  He writes to her night and morning often. He never sends away a letter to her but he begins a new one on the same day. He can’t bear to let go her kind little hand, as it were. He knows that she is thinking of him, and longing for him far away in Dublin yonder. He takes her letters from under his pillow and talks to them, familiarly, paternally, with fond epithets and pretty caresses—as he would to the sweet and artless creature who loved him. “Stay,” he writes one morning—it is the 14th of December, 1710—“Stay, I will answer some of your letter this morning in bed. Let me see. Come and appear, little letter! Here I am, says he, and what say you to Stella this morning fresh and fasting? And can Stella read this writing without hurting her dear eyes?” he goes on, after more kind prattle and fond whispering. The dear eyes shine clearly upon him then—the good angel of his life is with him and blessing him. Ah, it was a hard fate that wrung from them so many tears, and stabbed pitilessly that pure and tender bosom. A hard fate: but would she have changed it? I have heard a woman say that she would have taken Swift’s cruelty to have had his tenderness. He had a sort of worship for her whilst he wounded her. He speaks of her after she is gone; of her wit, of her kindness, of her grace, of her beauty, with a simple love and reverence that are indescribably touching; in contemplation of her goodness his hard heart melts into pathos; his cold rhyme kindles and glows into poetry, and he falls down on his knees, so to speak, before the angel whose life he had embittered, confesses, his own wretchedness and unworthiness, and adores her with cries of remorse and love:—
        “When on my sickly couch I lay,
Impatient both of night and day,
And groaning in unmanly strains,
Called every power to ease my pains,
Then Stella ran to my relief,
With cheerful face and inward grief,
And though by heaven’s severe decree
She suffers hourly more than me,
No cruel master could require
From slaves employed for daily hire,
What Stella, by her friendship warmed,
With vigour and delight performed.
Now, with a soft and silent tread,
Unheard she moves about my bed:
My sinking spirits now supplies
With cordials in her hands and eyes.
Best pattern of true friends! beware;
You pay too dearly for your care
If, while your tenderness secures
My life, it must endanger yours:
For such a fool was never found
Who pulled a palace to the ground,
Only to have the ruins made
Materials for a house decayed.”
  38
  One little triumph Stella had in her life—one dear little piece of injustice was performed in her favour, for which I confess, for my part, I can’t help thanking fate and the Dean.That other person was sacrificed to her—that—that young woman, who lived five doors from Dr. Swift’s lodgings in Bury Street, and who flattered him, and made love to him in such an outrageous manner—Vanessa was thrown over.  39
  Swift did not keep Stella’s letters to him in reply to those he wrote to her. He kept Bolingbroke’s, and Pope’s, and Harley’s, and Peterborough’s: but Stella, “very carefully,” the Lives say, kept Swift’s. Of course: that is the way of the world: and we cannot tell what her style was, or of what sort were the little letters which the Doctor placed there at night, and bade to appear from under his pillow of a morning. But in Letter IV. of that famous collection he describes his lodging in Bury Street, where he has the first floor, a dining-room and bed-chamber, at eight shillings a week; and in Letter VI. he says “he has visited a lady just come to town,” whose name somehow is not mentioned; and in Letter VIII. he enters a query of Stella’s—“What do you mean ‘that boards near me, that I dine with now and then’? What the deuce! You know whom I have dined with every day since I left you, better than I do.” Of course she does. Of course Swift has not the slightest idea of what she means. But in a few letters more it turns out that the Doctor has been to dine “gravely” with a Miss Vanhomrigh: then that he has been to “his neighbour”: then that he has been unwell, and means to dine for the whole week with his neighbour! Stella was quite right in her previsions. She saw from the very first hint, what was going to happen; and scented Vanessa in the air. The rival is at the Dean’s feet. The pupil and teacher are reading together, and drinking tea together, and going to prayers together, and learning Latin together, and conjugating amo, amas, amavi together. The little language is over for poor Stella. By the rule of grammar and the course of conjugation, doesn’t amavi come after amo and amas?  40
  The loves of Cadenus and Vanessa you may peruse in Cadenus’ own poem on the subject, and in poor Vanessa’s vehement expostulatory verses and letters to him; she adores him, implores him, admires him, thinks him something godlike, and only prays to be admitted to lie at his feet. As they are bringing him home from church, those divine feet of Dr. Swift’s are found pretty often in Vanessa’s parlour. He likes to be admired and adored. He finds Miss Vanhomrigh to be a woman of great taste and spirit, and beauty and wit, and a fortune too. He sees her every day; he does not tell Stella about the business; until the impetuous Vanessa becomes too fond of him, until the Doctor is quite frightened by the young woman’s ardour, and confounded by her warmth. He wanted to marry neither of them—that I believe was the truth; but if he had not married Stella, Vanessa would have had him in spite of himself. When he went back to Ireland, his Ariadne, not content to remain in her isle, pursued the fugitive Dean. In vain he protested, he vowed, he soothed, and bullied; the news of the Dean’s marriage with Stella at last came to her, and it killed her—she died of that passion.  41
  And when she died, and Stella heard that Swift had written beautifully regarding her, “That doesn’t surprise me,” said Mrs. Stella, “for we all know the Dean could write beautifully about a broom stick.” A woman—a true woman! Would you have had one of them forgive the other?  42
  In a note in his biography, Scott says that his friend Dr. Tuke of Dublin has a lock of Stella’s hair, enclosed in a paper by Swift, on which are written, in the Dean’s hand, the words: “Only a woman’s hair.” An instance, says Scott, of the Dean’s desire to veil his feelings under the mask of cynical indifference.  43
  See the various notions of critics! Do those words indicate indifference or an attempt to hide feeling? Did you ever hear or read four words more pathetic? Only a woman’s hair: only love, only fidelity, only purity, innocence, beauty; only the tenderest heart in the world stricken and wounded, and passed away now out of reach of pangs of hope deferred, love insulted, and pitiless desertion:—only that lock of hair left; and memory and remorse, for the guilty, lonely wretch, shuddering over the grave of his victim.  44
  And yet to have had so much love, he must have given some. Treasures of wit and wisdom, and tenderness, too, must that man have had locked up in the caverns of his gloomy heart, and shown fitfully to one or two whom he took in there. But it was not good to visit that place. People did not remain there long, and suffered for having been there. He shrank away from all affections sooner or later. Stella and Vanessa both died near him, and away from him. He had not heart enough to see them die. He broke from his fastest friend, Sheridan; he slunk away from his fondest admirer, Pope. His laugh jars on one’s ear after seven score years. He was always alone—alone and gnashing in the darkness, except when Stella’s sweet smile came and shone upon him. When that went, silence and utter night closed over him. An immense genius: an awful downfall and ruin. So great a man he seems to me, that thinking of him is like thinking of an empire falling. We have other great names to mention—none I think, however so great or so gloomy.  45
 
Note 1. From The English Humourists of the Eighteenth Century.