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george cruikshank-第1部分

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George Cruikshank



by William Makepeace Thackeray









Accusations of ingratitude; and just accusations no doubt; are made

against every inhabitant of this wicked world; and the fact is; that

a man who is ceaselessly engaged in its trouble and turmoil; borne

hither and thither upon the fierce waves of the crowd; bustling;

shifting; struggling to keep himself somewhat above waterfighting

for reputation; or more likely for bread; and ceaselessly occupied

to…day with plans for appeasing the eternal appetite of inevitable

hunger to…morrowa man in such straits has hardly time to think of

anything but himself; and; as in a sinking ship; must make his own

rush for the boats; and fight; struggle; and trample for safety。

In the midst of such a combat as this; the 〃ingenious arts; which

prevent the ferocity of the manners; and act upon them as an

emollient〃 (as the philosophic bard remarks in the Latin Grammar)

are likely to be jostled to death; and then forgotten。  The world

will allow no such compromises between it and that which does not

belong to itno two gods must we serve; but (as one has seen in

some old portraits) the horrible glazed eyes of Necessity are always

fixed upon you; fly away as you will; black Care sits behind you;

and with his ceaseless gloomy croaking drowns the voice of all more

cheerful companions。  Happy he whose fortune has placed him where

there is calm and plenty; and who has the wisdom not to give up his

quiet in quest of visionary gain。



Here is; no doubt; the reason why a man; after the period of his

boyhood; or first youth; makes so few friends。  Want and ambition

(new acquaintances which are introduced to him along with his beard)

thrust away all other society from him。  Some old friends remain; it

is true; but these are become as a habita part of your selfishness;

and; for new ones; they are selfish as you are。  Neither member of

the new partnership has the capital of affection and kindly feeling;

or can even afford the time that is requisite for the establishment

of the new firm。  Damp and chill the shades of the prison…house

begin to close round us; and that 〃vision splendid〃 which has

accompanied our steps in our journey daily farther from the east;

fades away and dies into the light of common day。



And what a common day! what a foggy; dull; shivering apology for

light is this kind of muddy twilight through which we are about to

tramp and flounder for the rest of our existence; wandering farther

and farther from the beauty and freshness and from the kindly

gushing springs of clear gladness that made all around us green in

our youth!  One wanders and gropes in a slough of stock…jobbing; one

sinks or rises in a storm of politics; and in either case it is as

good to fall as to riseto mount a bubble on the crest of the wave;

as to sink a stone to the bottom。



The reader who has seen the name affixed to the head of this article

scarcely expected to be entertained with a declamation upon

ingratitude; youth; and the vanity of human pursuits; which may seem

at first sight to have little to do with the subject in hand。  But

(although we reserve the privilege of discoursing upon whatever

subject shall suit us; and by no means admit the public has any

right to ask in our sentences for any meaning; or any connection

whatever) it happens that; in this particular instance; there is an

undoubted connection。  In Susan's case; as recorded by Wordsworth;

what connection had the corner of Wood Street with a mountain

ascending; a vision of trees; and a nest by the Dove?  Why should

the song of a thrush cause bright volumes of vapor to glide through

Lothbury; and a river to flow on through the vale of Cheapside?  As

she stood at that corner of Wood Street; a mop and a pail in her

hand most likely; she heard the bird singing; and straight…way began

pining and yearning for the days of her youth; forgetting the proper

business of the pail and mop。  Even so we are moved by the sight of

some of Mr。 Cruikshank's worksthe 〃Busen fuhlt sich jugendlich

erschuttert;〃 the 〃schwankende Gestalten〃 of youth flit before one

again;Cruikshank's thrush begins to pipe and carol; as in the days

of boyhood; hence misty moralities; reflections; and sad and

pleasant remembrances arise。  He is the friend of the young

especially。  Have we not read; all the story…books that his

wonderful pencil has illustrated?  Did we not forego tarts; in order

to buy his 〃Breaking…up;〃 or his 〃Fashionable Monstrosities〃 of the

year eighteen hundred and something?  Have we not before us; at this

very moment; a print;one of the admirable 〃Illustrations of

Phrenology〃which entire work was purchased by a joint…stock

company of boys; each drawing lots afterwards for the separate

prints; and taking his choice in rotation?  The writer of this; too;

had the honor of drawing the first lot; and seized immediately upon

〃Philoprogenitiveness〃a marvellous print (our copy is not at all

improved by being colored; which operation we performed on it

ourselves)a marvellous print; indeed;full of ingenuity and fine

jovial humor。  A father; possessor of an enormous nose and family;

is surrounded by the latter; who are; some of them; embracing the

former。  The composition writhes and twists about like the Kermes of

Rubens。  No less than seven little men and women in nightcaps; in

frocks; in bibs; in breeches; are clambering about the head;

knees; and arms of the man with the nose; their noses; too; are

preternaturally developedthe twins in the cradle have noses of the

most considerable kind。  The second daughter; who is watching them;

the youngest but two; who sits squalling in a certain wicker chair;

the eldest son; who is yawning; the eldest daughter; who is

preparing with the gravy of two mutton…chops a savory dish of

Yorkshire pudding for eighteen persons; the youths who are examining

her operations (one a literary gentleman; in a remarkably neat

nightcap and pinafore; who has just had his finger in the pudding);

the genius who is at work on the slate; and the two honest lads who

are hugging the good…humored washerwoman; their mother;all; all;

save; this worthy woman; have noses of the largest size。  Not

handsome certainly are they; and yet everybody must be charmed

with the picture。  It is full of grotesque beauty。  The artist

has at the back of his own skull; we are certain; a huge bump  of

philoprogenitiveness。  He loves children in his heart; every one of

those he has drawn is perfectly happy; and jovial; and affectionate;

and innocent as possible。  He makes them with large noses; but he

loves them; and you always find something kind in the midst of his

humor; and the ugliness redeemed by a sly touch of beauty。  The

smiling mother reconciles one with all the hideous family: they have

all something of the mother in themsomething kind; and generous;

and tender。



Knight's; in Sweeting's Alley; Fairburn's; in a court off Ludgate

Hill; Hone's; in Fleet Streetbright; enchanted palaces; which

George Cruikshank used to people with grinning; fantastical imps;

and merry; harmless sprites;where are they?  Fairburn's shop knows

him no more; not only has Knight disappeared from Sweeting's Alley;

but; as we are given to understand; Sweetings Alley has disappeared

from the face of the globe。  Slop; the atrocious Castlereagh; the

sainted Caroline (in a tight pelisse; with feathers in her head);

the 〃Dandy of sixty;〃 who used to glance at us from Hone's friendly

windowswhere are they?  Mr。 Cruikshank may have drawn a thousand

better things since the days when these were; but they are to us a

thousand times more pleasing than anything else he has done。  How we

used to believe in them! to stray miles out of the way on holidays;

in order to ponder for an hour before that delightful window in

Sweeting's Alley! in walks through Fleet Street; to vanish abruptly

down Fairburn's passage; and there make one at his 〃charming gratis〃

exhibition。  There used to be a crowd round the window in those

days; of grinning; good…natured mechanics; who spelt the songs; and

spoke them out for the benefit of the company; and who received the

points of humor with a general sympathizing roar。  Where are these

people now?  You never hear any laughing at HB。; his pictures are a

great deal too genteel for thatpolite points of wit; which strike

one as exceedingly clever and pretty; and cause one to smile in a

quiet; gentleman…like kind of way。



There must be no smiling with Cruikshank。  A man who does not laugh

outright is a dullard; and has no heart; even the old dandy of sixty

must have laughed at his own wondrous grotesque image; as they say

Louis Philippe did; who saw all the caricatures that were made of

himself。  And there are some of Cruikshank's designs which have the

blessed faculty of creating laughter as often as you see them。  As

Diggory says in the play; who is bidden by his master not to laugh

while waiting at table〃Don't tell the story of Grouse in the Gun…

room; master; or I can't help laughing。〃  Repeat that history ever

so often; and at the proper moment; honest Diggory is sure to

explode。  Every man; no doubt; who loves Cruikshank has his 〃Grouse

in the Gun…room。〃  There is a fellow in the 〃Points of Humor〃 who is

offering to eat up a certain little general; that has made us happy

any time these sixteen years: his huge mouth is a perpetual well of

laughterbuckets full of fun can be drawn from it。  We have formed

no such friendships as that boyish one of the man with the mouth。

But though; in our eyes; Mr。 Cruikshank reached his apogee some

eighteen years since; it must not be imagined that such is really

the case。  Eighteen sets of children have since then learned to love

and admire him; and may many more of their successors be brought up

in the same delightful faith。  It is not the artist who fails; but

the men who grow coldthe me
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