the professor(教授)-第76章
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theme of disputation； said—
“Since England is nothing； why do the continental nations
respect her so？”
“I should have thought no child would have asked that
question；” replied Hunsden； who never at any time gave
information without reproving for stupidity those who asked it of
him。 “If you had been my pupil； as I suppose you once had the
misfortune to be that of a deplorable character not a hundred
miles off； I would have put you in the corner for such a confession
of ignorance。 Why； mademoiselle； can’t you see that it is our gold
which buys us French politeness； German good…will； and Swiss
servility？” And he sneered diabolically。
“Swiss？” said Frances； catching the word “servility。” “Do you
call my countrymen servile？” and she started up。 I could not
suppress a low laugh； there was ire in her glance and defiance in
her attitude。 “Do you abuse Switzerland to me； Mr。 Hunsden？ Do
you think I have no associations？ Do you calculate that I am
prepared to dwell only on what vice and degradation may be
found in Alpine villages； and to leave quite out of my heart the
social greatness of my countrymen； and our blood…earned
freedom； and the natural glories of our mountains？ You’re
mistaken—you’re mistaken。”
“Social greatness？ Call it what you will； your countrymen are
sensible fellows； they make a marketable article of what to you is
an abstract idea； they have； ere this； sold their social greatness and
also their blood…earned freedom to be the servants of foreign
kings。”
“You never were in Switzerland？”
“Yes—I have been there twice。”
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“You know nothing of it。”
“I do。”
“And you say the Swiss are mercenary； as a parrot says ‘Poor
Poll；’ or as the Belgians here say the English are not brave； or as
the French accuse them of being perfidious： there is no justice in
your dictums。”
“There is truth。”
“I tell you； Mr。 Hunsden； you are a more unpractical man than I
am an unpractical woman； for you don’t acknowledge what really
exists； you want to annihilate individual patriotism and national
greatness as an atheist would annihilate God and his own soul； by
denying their existence。”
“Where are you flying to？ You are off at a tangent—I thought
we were talking about the mercenary nature of the Swiss。”
“We were—and if you proved to me that the Swiss are
mercenary to…morrow （which you cannot do） I should love
Switzerland still。”
“You would be mad； then—mad as a March hare—to indulge in
a passion for millions of shiploads of soil； timber； snow； and ice。”
“Not so mad as you who love nothing。”
“There’s a method in my madness； there’s none in yours。”
“Your method is to squeeze the sap out of creation and make
manure of the refuse； by way of turning it to what you call use。”
“You cannot reason at all；” said Hunsden； “there is no logic in
you。”
“Better to be without logic than without feeling；” retorted
Frances； who was now passing backwards and forwards from her
cupboard to the table； intent； if not on hospitable thoughts； at least
on hospitable deeds； for she was laying the cloth； and putting
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plates； knives and forks thereon。
“Is that a hit at me； mademoiselle？ Do you suppose I am
without feeling ？”
“I suppose you are always interfering with your own feelings；
and those of other people； and dogmatizing about the irrationality
of this； that； and the other sentiment； and then ordering it to be
suppressed because you imagine it to be inconsistent with logic。”
“I do right。”
Frances had stepped out of sight into a sort of little pantry； she
soon reappeared。
“You do right？ Indeed； no！ You are much mistaken if you think
so。 Just be so good as to let me get to the fire； Mr。 Hunsden； I have
something to cook。” （An interval occupied in settling a casserole
on the fire； then； while she stirred its contents：） “Right！ as if it
were right to crush any pleasurable sentiment that God has given
to man； especially any sentiment that； like patriotism； spreads
man’s selfishness in wider circles” （fire stirred； dish put down
before it）。
“Were you born in Switzerland？”
“I should think so； or else why should I call it my country？”
“And where did you get your English features and figure？”
“I am English； too； half the blood in my veins is English； thus I
have a right to a double power of patriotism； possessing an
interest in two noble； free； and fortunate countries。”
“You had an English mother？”
“Yes； yes； and you； I suppose； had a mother from the moon or
from Utopia； since not a nation in Europe has a claim on your
interest？”
“On the contrary； I’m a universal patriot； if you could
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understand me rightly： my country is the world。”
“Sympathies so widely diffused must be very shallow： will you
have the goodness to come to table。 Monsieur” （to me who
appeared to be now absorbed in reading by moonlight）—
“Monsieur； supper is served。”
This was said in quite a different voice to that in which she had
been bandying phrases with Mr。 Hunsden—not so short； graver
and softer。
“Frances； what do you mean by preparing； supper？ we had no
intention of staying。”
“Ah； monsieur； but you have stayed； and supper is prepared；
you have only the alternative of eating it。”
The meal was a foreign one； of course； it consisted in two small
but tasty dishes of meat prepared with skill and served with
nicety； a salad and “fromage francais；” completed it。 The business
of eating interposed a brief truce between the belligerents； but no
sooner was supper disposed of than they were at it again。 The
fresh subject of dispute ran on the spirit of religious intolerance
which Mr。 Hunsden affirmed to exist strongly in Switzerland；
notwithstanding the professed attachment of the Swiss to
freedom。 Here Frances had greatly the worst of it； not only
because she was unskilled to argue； but because her own real
opinions on the point in question happened to coincide pretty
nearly with Mr。 Hunsden’s； and she only contradicted him out of
opposition。 At last she gave in； confessing t
