第28部分(第2/7 頁)

es　the　memory　of　the　world。　The　slave　doomed　by　his　lord's　caprice　to　perish　under　tortures……one　feels　it　a　dreadful　and　intolerable　thing；　but　it　is　merely　the　crude　presentment　of　what　has　been　done　and　endured　a　million　times　in　every　stage　of　civilization。　Oh；　the　last　thoughts　of　those　who　have　agonized　unto　death　amid　wrongs　to　which　no　man　would　give　ear！　That　appeal　of　innocence　in　anguish　to　the　hard；　mute　heavens！　Were　there　only　one　such　instance　in　all　the　chronicles　of　time；　it　should　doom　the　past　to　abhorred　oblivion。　Yet　injustice；　the　basest；　the　most　ferocious；　is　inextricable　from　warp　and　woof　in　the　tissue　of　things　gone　by。　And　if　anyone　soothes　himself　with　the　reflection　that　such　outrages　can　happen　no　more；　that　mankind　has　passed　beyond　such　hideous　possibility；　he　is　better　acquainted　with　books　than　with　human　nature。

It　were　wiser　to　spend　my　hours　with　the　books　which　bring　no　aftertaste　of　bitterness……with　the　great　poets　whom　I　love；　with　the　thinkers；　with　the　gentle　writers　of　pages　that　soothe　and　tranquillize。　Many　a　volume　regards　me　from　the　shelf　as　though　reproachfully；　shall　I　never　again　take　it　in　my　hands？　Yet　the　words　are　golden；　and　I　would　fain　treasure　them　all　in　my　heart's　memory。　Perhaps　the　last　fault　of　which　I　shall　cure　myself　is　that　habit　of　mind　which　urges　me　to　seek　knowledge。　Was　I　not　yesterday　on　the　point　of　ordering　a　huge　work　of　erudition；　which　I　should　certainly　never　have　read　through；　and　which　would　only　have　served　to　waste　precious　days？　It　is　the　Puritan　in　my　blood；　I　suppose；　which　forbids　me　to　recognise　frankly　that　all　I　have　now　to　do　is　to　ENJOY。　This　is　wisdom。　The　time　for　acquisition　has　gone　by。　I　am　not　foolish　enough　to　set　myself　learning　a　new　language；　why　should　I　try　to