the poet at the breakfast table-第68章
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me； and if at any time they have been rudely handled and despitefully
entreated it has cost me a little worry。 I don't despise reputation；
and I should like to be remembered as having said something worth
lasting well enough to last。
But all that is nothing to the main comfort I feel as a writer。 I
have got rid of something my mind could not keep to itself and rise
as it was meant to into higher regions。 I saw the aeronauts the
other day emptying from the bags some of the sand that served as
ballast。 It glistened a moment in the sunlight as a slender shower；
and then was lost and seen no more as it scattered itself unnoticed。
But the airship rose higher as the sand was poured out； and so it
seems to me I have felt myself getting above the mists and clouds
whenever I have lightened myself of some portion of the mental
ballast I have carried with me。 Why should I hope or fear when I
send out my book？ I have had my reward； for I have wrought out my
thought； I have said my say； I have freed my soul。 I can afford to
be forgotten。
Look here！he said。 I keep oblivion always before me。…He pointed
to a singularly perfect and beautiful trilobite which was lying on a
pile of manuscripts。…Each time I fill a sheet of paper with what I
am writing； I lay it beneath this relic of a dead world； and project
my thought forward into eternity as far as this extinct crustacean
carries it backward。 When my heart beats too lustily with vain hopes
of being remembered； I press the cold fossil against it and it grows
calm。 I touch my forehead with it； and its anxious furrows grow
smooth。 Our world； too； with all its breathing life； is but a leaf
to be folded with the other strata； and if I am only patient； by and
by I shall be just as famous as imperious Caesar himself； embedded
with me in a conglomerate。
He began reading：〃There is no new thing under the sun；〃 said the
Preacher。 He would not say so now； if he should come to life for a
little while； and have his photograph taken； and go up in a balloon；
and take a trip by railroad and a voyage by steamship； and get a
message from General Grant by the cable； and see a man's leg cut off
without its hurting him。 If it did not take his breath away and lay
him out as flat as the Queen of Sheba was knocked over by the
splendors of his court； he must have rivalled our Indians in the nil
admarari line。
For all that； it is a strange thing to see what numbers of new things
are really old。 There are many modern contrivances that are of as
early date as the first man； if not thousands of centuries older。
Everybody knows how all the arrangements of our telescopes and
microscopes are anticipated in the eye； and how our best musical
instruments are surpassed by the larynx。 But there are some very odd
things any anatomist can tell； showing how our recent contrivances
are anticipated in the human body。 In the alimentary canal are
certain pointed eminences called villi； and certain ridges called
valvuloe conniventes。 The makers of heating apparatus have exactly
reproduced the first in the 〃pot〃 of their furnaces； and the second
in many of the radiators to be seen in our public buildings。 The
object in the body and the heating apparatus is the same； to increase
the extent of surface。 We mix hair with plaster （as the Egyptians
mixed straw with clay to make bricks） so that it shall hold more
firmly。 But before man had any artificial dwelling the same
contrivance of mixing fibrous threads with a cohesive substance had
been employed in the jointed fabric of his own spinal column。 India…
rubber is modern； but the yellow animal substance which is elastic
like that； and serves the same purpose in the animal economy which
that serves in our mechanical contrivances； is as old as the
mammalia。 The dome； the round and the Gothic arch； the groined roof；
the flying buttress； are all familiar to those who have studied the
bony frame of man。 All forms of the lever and all the principal
kinds of hinges are to be met with in our own frames。 The valvular
arrangements of the blood…vessels are unapproached by any artificial
apparatus； and the arrangements for preventing friction are so
perfect that two surfaces will play on each other for fourscore years
or more and never once trouble their owner by catching or rubbing so
as to be felt or heard。
But stranger than these repetitions are the coincidences one finds in
the manners and speech of antiquity and our own time。 In the days
when Flood Ireson was drawn in the cart by the Maenads of Marblehead；
that fishing town had the name of nurturing a young population not
over fond of strangers。 It used to be said that if an unknown
landsman showed himself in the streets； the boys would follow after
him； crying； 〃Rock him！ Rock him！ He's got a long…tailed coat on！〃
Now if one opens the Odyssey； he will find that the Phaeacians； three
thousand years ago； were wonderfully like these youthful
Marbleheaders。 The blue…eyed Goddess who convoys Ulysses； under the
disguise of a young maiden of the place； gives him some excellent
advice。 〃Hold your tongue；〃 she says； 〃and don't look at anybody or
ask any questions； for these are seafaring people； and don't like to
have strangers round or anybody that does not belong here。〃
Who would have thought that the saucy question； 〃Does your mother
know you're out？〃 was the very same that Horace addressed to the bore
who attacked him in the Via Sacra？
Interpellandi locus hic erat； Est tibi mater？
Cognati； queis te salvo est opus？
And think of the London cockney's prefix of the letter h to innocent
words beginning with a vowel having its prototype in the speech of
the vulgar Roman； as may be seen in the verses of Catullus：
Chommoda dicebat； siquando commoda vellet
Dicere； et hinsidias Arrius insidias。
Et tum mirifice sperabat se esse locutum；
Cum quantum poterat； dixerat hinsidias。。。
Hoc misso in Syriam； requierant omnibus aures。。。
Cum subito affertur nuncius horribilis；
Ionios fluctus； postquam illue Arrius isset；
Jam non Ionios esse； sed Hionios。
Our neighbors of Manhattan have an excellent jest about our crooked
streets which； if they were a little more familiar with a native
author of unquestionable veracity； they would strike out from the
letter of 〃Our Boston Correspondent；〃 where it is a source of
perennial hilarity。 It is worth while to reprint； for the benefit of
whom it may concern； a paragraph from the authentic history of the
venerable Diedrich Knickerbocker：
〃The sage council； as has been mentioned in a preceding chapter； not
being able to determine upon any plan for the building of their
city；the cows； in a laudable fit of patriotism； took it under their
peculiar charge； and as they went to and from pasture； established
paths through the bushes； on each side of which the good folks built
their houses； which is one cause of the rambling and picturesque
turns and labyrinths； which distinguish certain streets of New York
at this very day。〃
When I was a little boy there came to stay with us for a while a
young lady with a singularly white complexion。 Now I had often seen
the masons slacking lime； and I thought it was the whitest thing I
had ever looked upon。 So I always called this fair visitor of ours
Slacked Lime。 I think she is still living in a neighboring State；
and I am sure she has never forgotten the fanciful name I gave her。
But within ten or a dozen years I have seen this very same comparison
going the round of the papers； and credited to a Welsh poet； David Ap
Gwyllym； or something like that； by name。
I turned a pretty sentence enough in one of my lectures about
finding poppies springing up amidst the corn； as if it had been
foreseen by nature that wherever there should be hunger that asked
for food； there would be pain that needed relief；and many years
afterwards。 I had the pleasure of finding that Mistress Piozzi had
been beforehand with me in suggesting the same moral reflection。
I should like to carry some of my friends to see a giant bee…hive I
have discovered。 Its hum can be heard half a mile； and the great
whit
