He stopped to dinner that evening, and, much to Ruth’s satisfaction, made a favorable impression on her father. They talked about the sea as a career, a subject which Martin had at his finger-ends, and Mr. Morse remarked afterward that he seemed a very clear-headed young man. In his avoidance of slang and his search after right words, Martin was compelled to talk slowly, which enabled him to find the best thoughts that were in him. He was more at ease than that first night at dinner, nearly a year before, and his shyness and modesty even commended him to Mrs. Morse, who was pleased at his manifest improvement.
“He is the first man that ever drew passing notice from Ruth,” she told her husband. “She has been so singularly backward where men are concerned that I have been worried greatly.”
Mr. Morse looked at his wife curiously.
“You mean to use this young sailor to wake her up?” he questioned.
“I mean that she is not to die an old maid if I can help it,” was the answer. “If this young Eden can arouse her interest in mankind in general, it will be a good thing.”
“A very good thing,” he commented. “But suppose,—and we must suppose, sometimes, my dear,—suppose he arouses her interest too particularly in him?”
“Impossible,” Mrs. Morse laughed. “She is three years older than he, and, besides, it is impossible. Nothing will ever come of it. Trust that to me.”
And so Martin’s role was arranged for him, while he, led on by Arthur and Norman, was meditating an extravagance. They were going out for a ride into the hills Sunday morning on their wheels, which did not interest Martin until he learned that Ruth, too, rode a wheel and was going along. He did not ride, nor own a wheel, but if Ruth rode, it was up to him to begin, was his decision; and when he said good night, he stopped in at a bicycle shop on his way home and spent forty dollars for a wheel. It was more than a month’s hard-earned wages, and it reduced his stock of money amazingly; but when he added the hundred dollars he was to receive from the Examiner to the four hundred and twenty dollars that was the least The Youth’s Companion could pay him, he felt that he had reduced the perplexity the unwonted amount of money had caused him. Nor did he mind, in the course of learning to ride the wheel home, the fact that he ruined his suit of clothes. He caught the tailor by telephone that night from Mr. Higginbotham’s store and ordered another suit. Then he carried the wheel up the narrow stairway that clung like a fire-escape to the rear wall of the building, and when he had moved his bed out from the wall, found there was just space enough in the small room for himself and the wheel.
Sunday he had intended to devote to studying for the high school examination, but the pearl-diving article lured him away, and he spent the day in the white-hot fever of recreating the beauty and romance that burned in him.The fact that the Examiner of that morning had failed to publish his treasure-hunting article did not dash his spirits. He was at too great a height for that, and having been deaf to a twice-repeated summons, he went without the heavy Sunday dinner with which Mr. Higginbotham invariably graced his table. To Mr. Higginbotham such a dinner was advertisement of his worldly achievement and prosperity, and he honored it by delivering platitudinous sermonettes upon American institutions and the opportunity said institutions gave to any hard-working man to rise—the rise, in his case, which he pointed out unfailingly, being from a grocer’s clerk to the ownership of Higginbotham’s Cash Store.
Martin Eden looked with a sigh at his unfinished “Pearl-diving” on Monday morning, and took the car down to Oakland to the high school. And when, days later, he applied for the results of his examinations, he learned that he had failed in everything save grammar.
“Your grammar is excellent,” Professor Hilton informed him, staring at him through heavy spectacles; “but you know nothing, positively nothing, in the other branches, and your United States history is abominable—there is no other word for it, abominable. I should advise you—”
Professor Hilton paused and glared at him, unsympathetic and unimaginative as one of his own test-tubes. He was professor of physics in the high school, possessor of a large family, a meagre salary, and a select fund of parrot-learned knowledge.
“Yes, sir,” Martin said humbly, wishing somehow that the man at the desk in the library was in Professor Hilton’s place just then.
“And I should advise you to go back to the grammar school for at least two years. Good day.”
Martin was not deeply affected by his failure, though he was surprised at Ruth’s shocked expression when he told her Professor Hilton’s advice. Her disappointment was so evident that he was sorry he had failed, but chiefly so for her sake.
“You see I was right,” she said. “You know far more than any of the students entering high school, and yet you can’t pass the examinations. It is because what education you have is fragmentary, sketchy. You need the discipline of study, such as only skilled teachers can give you. You must be thoroughly grounded. Professor Hilton is right, and if I were you, I’d go to night school. A year and a half of it might enable you to catch up that additional six months. Besides, that would leave you your days in which to write, or, if you could not make your living by your pen, you would have your days in which to work in some position.”
But if my days are taken up with work and my nights with school, when am I going to see you?—was Martin’s first thought, though he refrained from uttering it. Instead, he said:—
“It seems so babyish for me to be going to night school. But I wouldn’t mind that if I thought it would pay. But I don’t think it will pay. I can do the work quicker than they can teach me. It would be a loss of time—” he thought of her and his desire to have her—“and I can’t afford the time. I haven’t the time to spare, in fact.”
“There is so much that is necessary.” She looked at him gently, and he fell that he was a brute to oppose her. “Physics and chemistry—you can’t do them without laboratory study; and you’ll find algebra and geometry almost hopeless without instruction. You need the skilled teachers, the specialists in the art of imparting knowledge.”
He was silent for a minute, casting about for the least vainglorious way in which to express himself.
“Please don’t think I’m bragging,” he began. “I don’t intend it that way at all. But I have a feeling that I am what I may call a natural student. I can study by myself. I take to it kindly, like a duck to water. You see yourself what I did with grammar. And I’ve learned much of other things—you would never dream how much. And I’m only getting started. Wait till I get—” He hesitated and assured himself of the pronunciation before he said “momentum. I’m getting my first real feel of things now. I’m beginning to size up the situation—”
“Please don’t say ‘size up,’” she interrupted.
“To get a line on things,” he hastily amended.
“That doesn’t mean anything in correct English,” she objected.
He floundered for a fresh start.
“What I’m driving at is that I’m beginning to get the lay of the land.”
Out of pity she forebore, and he went on.
“Knowledge seems to me like a chart-room. Whenever I go into the library, I am impressed that way. The part played by teachers is to teach the student the contents of the chart-room in a systematic way. The teachers are guides to the chart-room, that’s all. It’s not something that they have in their own heads. They don’t make it up, don’t create it. It’s all in the chart-room and they know their way about in it, and it’s their business to show the place to strangers who might else get lost. Now I don’t get lost easily. I have the bump of location. I usually know where I’m at—What’s wrong now?”
“Don’t say ‘where I’m at.’”
“That’s right,” he said gratefully, “where I am. But where am I at—I mean, where am I? Oh, yes, in the chart-room. Well, some people—”
“Persons,” she corrected.
“Some persons need guides, most persons do; but I think I can get along without them. I’ve spent a lot of time in the chart-room now, and I’m on the edge of knowing my way about, what charts I want to refer to, what coasts I want to explore. And from the way I line it up, I’ll explore a whole lot more quickly by myself. The speed of a fleet, you know, is the speed of the slowest ship, and the speed of the teachers is affected the same way. They can’t go any faster than the ruck of their scholars, and I can set a faster pace for myself than they set for a whole schoolroom.”
“‘He travels the fastest who travels alone,’” she quoted at him.
But I’d travel faster with you just the same, was what he wanted to blurt out, as he caught a vision of a world without end of sunlit spaces and starry voids through which he drifted with her, his arm around her, her pale gold hair blowing about his face. In the same instant he was aware of the pitiful inadequacy of speech. God! If he could so frame words that she could see what he then saw! And he felt the stir in him, like a throe of yearning pain, of the desire to paint these visions that flashed unsummoned on the mirror of his mind. Ah, that was it! He caught at the hem of the secret. It was the very thing that the great writers and master-poets did. That was why they were giants. They knew how to express what they thought, and felt, and saw. Dogs asleep in the sun often whined and barked, but they were unable to tell what they saw that made them whine and bark. He had often wondered what it was. And that was all he was, a dog asleep in the sun. He saw noble and beautiful visions, but he could only whine and bark at Ruth. But he would cease sleeping in the sun. He would stand up, with open eyes, and he would struggle and toil and learn until, with eyes unblinded and tongue untied, he could share with her his visioned wealth. Other men had discovered the trick of expression, of making words obedient servitors, and of making combinations of words mean more than the sum of their separate meanings. He was stirred profoundly by the passing glimpse at the secret, and he was again caught up in the vision of sunlit spaces and starry voids—until it came to him that it was very quiet, and he saw Ruth regarding him with an amused expression and a smile in her eyes.
“I have had a great visioning,” he said, and at the sound of his words in his own ears his heart gave a leap. Where had those words come from? They had adequately expressed the pause his vision had put in the conversation. It was a miracle. Never had he so loftily framed a lofty thought. But never had he attempted to frame lofty thoughts in words. That was it. That explained it. He had never tried. But Swinburne had, and Tennyson, and Kipling, and all the other poets. His mind flashed on to his “Pearl-diving.” He had never dared the big things, the spirit of the beauty that was a fire in him. That article would be a different thing when he was done with it. He was appalled by the vastness of the beauty that rightfully belonged in it, and again his mind flashed and dared, and he demanded of himself why he could not chant that beauty in noble verse as the great poets did. And there was all the mysterious delight and spiritual wonder of his love for Ruth. Why could he not chant that, too, as the poets did? They had sung of love. So would he. By God!—
And in his frightened ears he heard his exclamation echoing. Carried away, he had breathed it aloud. The blood surged into his face, wave upon wave, mastering the bronze of it till the blush of shame flaunted itself from collar-rim to the roots of his hair.
“I—I—beg your pardon,” he stammered. “I was thinking.”
“It sounded as if you were praying,” she said bravely, but she felt herself inside to be withering and shrinking. It was the first time she had heard an oath from the lips of a man she knew, and she was shocked, not merely as a matter of principle and training, but shocked in spirit by this rough blast of life in the garden of her sheltered maidenhood.
But she forgave, and with surprise at the ease of her forgiveness. Somehow it was not so difficult to forgive him anything. He had not had a chance to be as other men, and he was trying so hard, and succeeding, too. It never entered her head that there could be any other reason for her being kindly disposed toward him. She was tenderly disposed toward him, but she did not know it. She had no way of knowing it. The placid poise of twentyfour years without a single love affair did not fit her with a keen perception of her own feelings, and she who had never warmed to actual love was unaware that she was warming now.
他當天晚上留下來吃飯,而且給露絲的父親留下了良好的印象,這叫她十分滿意。他們談起了航海業(yè)——一個馬丁十分熟悉的話題,摩斯先生事后說他看上去像是個頭腦清晰的年輕人。為了避免使用俚語、尋找合適的字眼,馬丁說話時只得慢條斯理,這一來使他能夠發(fā)掘內(nèi)心最優(yōu)秀的思想。他比近一年前頭一次來吃飯時自如了一些,他的靦腆和謙恭的態(tài)度甚至博得了摩斯夫人的歡心,后者為他顯著的進步感到高興。
“他是第一個能讓露絲多瞧幾眼的男人。”她對丈夫說,“她對男人老是無動于衷,真叫我為她擔心。”
摩斯先生詫異地望了望妻子。
“你的意思是想利用這個年輕的水手把她喚醒?”他問。
“我的意思是,只要有辦法補救,就不能讓她老死閨中。”夫人答道,“如果這位年輕的伊登可以引起她對人們的普遍興趣,倒真是件好事。”
“而且是件非常好的事情?!彼u價道,“可是,假設——有的時候我們必須假設,親愛的——假設他引起了她的特別興趣呢?”
“不可能,”摩斯夫人大笑著說,“她比他大三歲,另外,這沒一點可能性。不會出什么事的,請相信我好啦。”
馬丁的角色就這樣定了下來,而他本人此時正受到阿瑟和諾曼的慫恿,考慮著要干一件奢侈的事情。他們打算星期天上午騎自行車進山玩。馬丁對這個計劃原來并不太經(jīng)意,后來聽說露絲也會騎車子,而且要跟著去,這才產(chǎn)生了興趣。他既不會騎車子也沒有車子,可是,露絲既然會騎,那么他就應該學會——這便是他的決定;辭別了摩斯一家,回去的路上他拐進自行車店,花四十塊錢買了一輛。這筆花銷比他一個月辛辛苦苦掙的工錢還要多,大大減少了他的積蓄;然而,《考察家報》將付給他一百塊錢的稿酬,而《少年之友》的稿費不少于四百二十塊錢,這兩筆錢加起來一算,他就覺得額外的開支所引起的苦惱消退了幾分。回家時,他一路學騎車子,把衣服都掛破了,他也毫不在乎。當夜他就從希金波森先生的店里打電話給裁縫,重新定做了一套衣服。接著,他扛著自行車攀上像太平梯桿緊貼著后墻的窄樓梯;待到把床從墻根挪開,他發(fā)現(xiàn)自己的房間小得剛能容下他本人和那輛自行車。
他本來打算星期天復習功課,準備參加高中考試,可是那篇關于潛水采珠的文章在誘惑著他,于是他整整一天都似發(fā)高燒一般揮毫描繪在他心里翻騰的美感以及浪漫的情調(diào)。這天早晨,《考察家報》沒有刊登他的“尋寶記”,但他并未因此而泄氣。他已經(jīng)攀上了高峰,是不會輕易認輸?shù)?。別人喚了他兩次,他都沒聽見,于是便錯過了豐盛的星期日晚餐——希金波森先生每個星期都要用這樣的晚餐為他的飯桌增光添彩。在希金波森先生看來,這樣的一頓晚餐反映出他的成就和富裕;為了表示慶祝,他針對美國制度發(fā)表了一通陳腐的言論,說這樣的制度為每個勤奮的人都提供了飛黃騰達的機會,他沒有忘記指出他本人就是由食品店的伙計干起,最后當上了希金波森零售店的老板。
星期一上午,馬丁·伊登望著那篇尚未完稿的“潛水采珠”,嘆了口氣,然后就搭電車到奧克蘭的那家高中去了。數(shù)天之后,他去問考試結(jié)果,方知自己除了語法課,別的課程全部不及格。
“你的語法學得很好,”希爾頓老師透過厚厚的眼鏡片注視著他,告訴他說,“但對別的課程就不熟悉了,簡直是一無所知;你的美國史糟糕透頂——沒有別的詞可以形容,只能說糟糕透頂。我建議你——”希爾頓老師打住了話頭,用眼睛緊盯著他,既冷漠無情又缺乏想象力,活似他自己的試管。他在高中教物理,家里人口眾多,薪金卻少得可憐,滿腦子裝的都是機械地學來的知識。
“是,先生?!瘪R丁畢恭畢敬地說。不知怎么,他真希望希爾頓老師的位子上坐的是圖書館桌旁的那個館員。
“我勸你回到初中去,至少再學兩年。再見吧。”
這次名落孫山并沒給馬丁造成多大影響,但他把希爾頓老師的話講給露絲聽時,對方卻顯出震驚的表情,這倒叫他感到意外。她的失望表現(xiàn)得如此明顯,真讓他為自己的失敗覺得惋惜,然而他的惋惜主要是為了她的緣故。
“瞧,我的看法是對的吧,”她說,“你比那些考進高中的學生知識淵博得多,卻未能通過考試,全因為你學的東西太零亂、太膚淺。你需要的是嚴格的教育,而這些只有懂行的老師可以提供給你。你必須具備扎實的基礎。希爾頓老師的話是對的,我要是你,我會到夜校里進修。在那兒學一年半能趕得上學兩年的水平。另外,白天你還可以搞寫作;假如你無法靠寫文章維持生計,那么白天就找個工作干?!比绻野滋旃ぷ?,晚上上課,那么,什么時候來看望你呢?——這是馬丁閃過的第一個念頭,但他忍了忍沒說出來。只聽他這樣說道:
“我到夜校上課,似乎顯得太孩子氣了。要是真的劃得來,那我倒不在乎,可我覺得這樣做劃不來。我自己學比他們教的要快。上夜校是浪費時間——”他想到了她以及自己對她的欲望——“我可浪費不起時間,說實話,我勻不出時間來。”
“有許多課程都是必須學的。”她說著,向他投來柔情的目光,讓他覺得自己和她作對簡直太殘忍了,“拿物理和化學來講——不做實驗是學不成的;你還會發(fā)現(xiàn),沒人輔導,簡直沒指望能學得好代數(shù)和幾何。你需要的是懂行的教師以及善于傳授知識的專家?!?/p>
他一時沒言聲,挖空心思地尋找最謙虛的詞句表達自己的意思。
“請別以為我在吹牛,”他啟口說道,“我沒有一點吹牛的意思。但我有一個感覺,我可以稱得上一個天生的學者。我可以自學,因為我喜歡學習就像鴨子喜歡水一樣。你自己也看得到我學習語法所取得的成績,我還學了許多其他的知識——多得讓你想也想不到。我還只是剛開了個頭,等到我——”他猶豫了一下,弄準了發(fā)音后才繼續(xù)說道,“待我攢足了力量吧。我現(xiàn)在總算第一次對事物產(chǎn)生了真正的感受,剛剛開始掌握(size up)情況——”
“別用‘size up’這個詞?!彼逶捳f。
“那就是估摸(get a line on)形勢?!彼泵Ω馈?/p>
“地道的英語里根本沒這一說?!彼圆煌?。
他慌亂地想重新再來一句。
“我的意思是說,我現(xiàn)在剛剛開始觸摸到(get the lay of)情況?!?/p>
出于憐憫,她沒再插嘴,由著他說了下去:
“知識對我就像一間海圖室。一走進圖書館,我就有這種印象。教師扮演的角色是系統(tǒng)地向?qū)W生講解海圖室里的東西。其實,教師只是海圖室的向?qū)В麄冏约旱拇竽X不生產(chǎn)知識,既不杜撰也不創(chuàng)造。知識全在海圖室里,他們不過熟悉入室的路徑罷了。他們的任務是為外行引路,否則那些外行就會迷失方向。我可不會輕易迷路,因為我有辨別方位的能力。我一般都清楚自己在何處(where I’m at)——這次又錯了嗎?”
“別說‘where I’m at’?!?/p>
“對,”他感激地說,“是where I am??墒?,where am I at——我是說where am I呢?噢,明白啦,該說在海圖室里。至于有些人(people)——”
“應用persons?!彼m正道。
“有些人(persons)需要向?qū)?,大多?shù)人都是如此;可我覺得自己沒有向?qū)б材芮靶?。我在海圖室里已待久了,快能摸清里面的路徑了,到時候我就可以知道查閱什么樣的海圖以及踏勘什么樣的海岸。依我看來,我自己朝前走反而快得多。要知道,一個艦隊的速度是其中最慢的船只的速度,而教師的速度也會受到類似的影響。他們授課的速度絕對不能超過落后的學生。這樣,我的速度就可以高于他們?yōu)槿鄬W生規(guī)定的速度?!?/p>
“獨行者最速?!彼龥_著他引用了一句格言。
他真想脫口喊出:“我和你一道前行,照樣可以比別人快?!贝藭r此刻,他看到了一幅陽光普照、晴空萬里的幻景,他攜帶著她游歷于天地之間,用胳膊摟著她,而她那淡金色的秀發(fā)輕拂著他的臉頰。就在這一瞬間,他意識到自己的語言貧乏得可憐。上帝?。∫悄芟氤鼋^詞佳句,把他看到的奇景展現(xiàn)給她就好啦!他感到內(nèi)心一陣激動,那是一種折磨人的強烈愿望——他渴望把那些突如其來閃現(xiàn)在他大腦鏡面上的幻景描繪出來。啊,原來如此!他總算接觸到了謎底。這就是那些大作家、大詩人成功的訣竅,這就是他們之所以偉大的原因,他們懂得怎樣表達自己想到、感受到以及看到的事物。在陽光下昏睡的狗常常哀鳴和狂吠,然而卻說不出它們究竟看見了什么,才會哀鳴及狂吠,他經(jīng)常對這種現(xiàn)象感到納悶。按說,他自己就和在陽光下昏睡的狗是一樣的。他看到了高雅和壯麗的景色,然而卻只會沖著露絲哀鳴和狂吠。不過,他再也不想昏睡在陽光之下了。他要站起來,睜開眼睛,不斷奮爭、苦干和學習,直至變得耳聰目明和伶牙俐齒,那時才能和她一道分享他所看到的美景。有些人發(fā)現(xiàn)了表達思想的訣竅,能夠把文字變?yōu)轫槒牡呐`,能夠把字字詞詞聯(lián)在一起,表達出單獨的詞字所表達不了的含義。他感到異常振奮,因為他瞥見了這一秘密;他的眼前又出現(xiàn)了那幅陽光普照、晴空萬里的幻景——后來,他回到了現(xiàn)實中,覺得周圍十分寧靜,瞧見露絲眼里含著笑,正興趣盎然地打量著他。
“我目睹了一幕壯麗的幻景?!彼f。聽到自己的話音在耳邊回響,他感到怦然心跳。這些詞是從哪里蹦出來的?它們恰當?shù)匦稳萘怂谡勗捴写┎宓幕镁啊:喼笔瞧孥E!他從未用如此高雅的詞句表達過高雅的思想,但那是因為他從未嘗試過用語言形容高雅的思想。正是這樣,這就清楚了。他從未嘗試過,而斯溫伯恩、丁尼生、吉卜林以及所有其他的詩人都做過嘗試。他的心里仍在翻江倒海,繼而想到了他的那篇“潛水采珠”。對于壯觀的事物,對于在他心中燃燒的美感,他從來都不敢試筆。待到這篇文章完稿時,就會變成另外一種模樣。文章應該表現(xiàn)波瀾壯闊的美,想到這里他油然產(chǎn)生了敬畏感。接著,他又一閃念頭,繼續(xù)大膽地遐想。他責問自己:為什么不能像那些大詩人一樣,用高雅的詩句歌頌美呢?他對露絲的愛既神秘又歡快,是精神上的奇跡。他為什么就不能像那些詩人,也謳歌這種愛呢?他們歌頌過愛情,而他也要歌頌愛。上帝??!——
他耳邊聽到自己的一聲呼叫,不由吃了一驚。他剛才精神迷亂,才喊出了聲來。熱血一陣陣涌上臉來,淹沒了臉上的紫銅色,直至這股羞愧的紅潮從硬領的邊緣漫到頭發(fā)根。
“我——我——請你原諒,”他口吃地說,“我想問題走了神?!?/p>
“聽上去你像是在祈禱?!彼焐想m這么說,但內(nèi)心感到的卻是失望和消沉,她這是第一次聽到一個她所認識的男人說詛咒的話。她感到震驚,這不僅僅是原則和教養(yǎng)的問題,也是因為在生活中刮來的這股狂風侵入了她那隱蔽的處女園地,震撼了她的心靈。
不過,她原諒了他,而且為自己就這么輕易原諒人覺得意外。不知為什么,原諒他的任何過失不是件特別困難的事。他沒有機會能像其他的人那樣,他在竭力改造自己,同時正在走向成功。她怎么也想不到,自己對他如此寬宏大量或許還有別的原因。她對他柔情種種,然而她自己卻意識不到,也沒法意識到。二十四年的生活平靜如水,未發(fā)生過一起戀愛事件,所以她對她自己的感情也缺乏敏銳的感覺;她從未對愛燃起過熱情,此時也就覺察不到自己已動了情。