第22部分(第6/7 頁)

streets。　They　would　perish；　perhaps。　But　set　that　possibility　against　the　all　but　certainty　of　their　present　prospect……fatty　degeneration　of　the　soul；　and　is　it　not　acceptable？

I　thought　of　this　as　I　stood　yesterday　watching　a　noble　sunset；　which　brought　back　to　my　memory　the　sunsets　of　a　London　autumn；　thirty　years　ago；　more　glorious；　it　seems　to　me；　than　any　I　have　since　beheld。　It　happened　that；　on　one　such　evening；　I　was　by　the　river　at　Chelsea；　with　nothing　to　do　except　to　feel　that　I　was　hungry；　and　to　reflect　that；　before　morning；　I　should　be　hungrier　still。　I　loitered　upon　Battersea　Bridge……the　old　picturesque　wooden　bridge；　and　there　the　western　sky　took　hold　upon　me。　Half　an　hour　later；　I　was　speeding　home。　I　sat　down；　and　wrote　a　description　of　what　I　had　seen；　and　straightway　sent　it　to　an　evening　newspaper；　which；　to　my　astonishment；　published　the　thing　next　day……〃On　Battersea　Bridge。〃　How　proud　I　was　of　that　little　bit　of　writing！　I　should　not　much　like　to　see　it　again；　for　I　thought　it　then　so　good　that　I　am　sure　it　would　give　me　an　unpleasant　sensation　now。　Still；　I　wrote　it　because　I　enjoyed　doing　so；　quite　as　much　as　because　I　was　hungry；　and　the　couple　of　guineas　it　brought　me　had　as　pleasant　a　ring　as　any　money　I　ever　earned。

XXII

I　wonder　whether　it　be　really　true；　as　I　have　more　than　once　seen　suggested；　that　the　publication　of　Anthony　Trollope's　autobiography　in　some　degree　accounts　for　the　neglect　into　which　he　and　his　works　fell　so　soon　after　his　death。　I　should　like　to　believe　it；　for　such　a　fact　would　be；　from　one　point　of　view；　a　credit　to　〃the　great　big　stupid　public。〃　Only；　of　course；　from　one　point　of　view；　the　notable　merits　of　Trollope's　work　are　unaffected　by　one's　knowledge　of　how　that　work　was　produced；　at　his　bes