Chapter 112

第一百十二章

乔赛亚·格雷夫斯以其出色的组织能力操持着葬礼事宜，事情办得既得体又省钱。葬礼一完，他便伴着菲利普返回牧师住宅。已故牧师的遗嘱就在他手里。他一边喝着茶，一边怀着同目下气氛相适应的情感，向菲利普宣读了遗嘱。说是遗嘱，不过半张纸，上面写明凯里先生身后留下的一切均由其侄儿菲利普继承。具体项目有：家具；银行存款八十英镑；除在爱皮西公司搭股二十份外，还分别在奥尔索普酒厂、牛津杂耍剧场和伦敦一家餐馆搭有股份。这些股份当时均是在格雷夫斯先生指点下购买的。此时，格雷夫斯先生颇为得意地对菲利普说道：

"要知道，是人，就得吃、喝，还要玩乐。假使你把钱投入公众认为是须臾不可缺少的项目里，那你就放心好了，保管吃不了亏。"

格雷夫斯的一番话将下等人的粗鄙与上等人的高雅之间的差别，表现得淋漓尽致，恰到好处。对下等人的粗鄙，菲利普心有反感，但也心悦诚服地接受了。向各种行业投资的金额加起来也不过五百英镑左右，但这笔数目还得包括银行的存款以及拍卖家具所得的款项。对菲利普来说，这是一笔财产，虽说他心里头并不怎么高兴，倒也有一种长久压在心头的石头顿然落地之感。

接着，他们俩商定及早把家具拍卖出去。此后，格雷夫斯先生告辞走了，菲利普便动手整理死者留下来的书信和文件。那位尊敬的威廉·凯里牧师生前一向夸耀自己从不毁坏一件东西，并以此为荣。因此房间里放满了一扎扎五十年来的往来信件和一包包签条贴得整整齐齐的单子。已故牧师不但保存别人写给他的信件，而且还保存了他写给别人的信件。其中有一扎颜色泛黄的信件，都是牧师在四十年代写给他父亲的。当时，他作为牛津大学的毕业生在德国度了个长假。菲利普漫不经心地读着。这个写信的威廉·凯里同他记忆里的威廉·凯里迥然不同，然而对一个细心的读者来说，也不难从这个写信的青年身上看到那个成年的凯里的某些影子。信都写得礼貌周全，可就是有点装腔作势、矫揉造作的味儿。他在信里表明自己为了饱尝所有值得一看的名胜，可谓是历尽了辛苦，费尽了气力；他还怀着幽雅、激动的心情，描绘了莱茵河畔的城堡的丰姿。沙夫豪森的瀑布打开了他感情的闸门，他在信中写道："我不禁对宇宙的万能造物主肃然起敬，感恩戴德，他的作品简直太奇妙、太优美了。"而且，他还情不自禁地联想到那些生活在"神圣的造物主的这一杰作面前的人们，应该为其过一种圣洁的生活的期望所感动"。菲利普在一叠单子里翻出一张袖珍画像，上面画的是刚被授予圣职的威廉·凯里：一个身体瘦削的年轻副牧师，头上覆着长长的鬈发，一双黑黑的大眼睛，目光朦胧，一张苦行者似的苍白的脸。这当儿，菲利普的耳边响起了他大伯的哧哧笑声，他大伯生前常常一边这样笑着一边讲着几位敬慕他的女士亲手做了几打拖鞋送给他的事。当天下午余下的时间和整个晚上，菲利普都用来整理这堆数不胜数的信件。他先扫视一下信上的地址和落款的签名，然后他把信撕成两半，随手扔进身边的废纸篓里。突然，他翻到了一封签名为海伦的信件，但上面的字迹他却不认识，一手老体字，笔画很细又很生硬。抬头称呼是"亲爱的威廉"，落款是"您的亲爱的弟媳"。他顿时恍然大悟，意识到此信原来是他母亲写的。他从没有看到过她写的信，因此她的字体对他很陌生。信中写的就是关于他的事情。

亲爱的威廉：

斯蒂芬曾给您去过一信，感谢您对我们儿子的出世的祝贺以及您对我本人的良好祝愿。感谢上帝，我们母子俩安然无恙。我深深感激上帝赐予我的慈悲。现在我既然能够握笔，我就很想对您和亲爱的路易莎一表衷肠。我这一次分娩以及我同斯蒂芬结婚以来，你们俩一直都很关心我，对此，我真是感激不尽。在这里，我请求您帮我一个忙。斯蒂芬和我都想请您做这个孩子的教父，并希望您能接受这一请求。我深信您一定会慨然允诺，认真担当此任，正因为如此，我才不揣冒昧地启口向您提出这一绝非小事的请求。我殷切期盼您能担当此任，因为您既是一名牧师，又是这孩子的伯父。这孩子的幸福，真令人牵肠挂肚，放心不下。为此，我日日夜夜向上帝祷告，祈求上帝保佑这孩子日后成长为一个善良、诚实和笃信基督的人。我衷心地希望，在您的教诲下，这孩子将成为一名信奉基督教义的信徒，但愿他一生一世都做一个虔诚的、谦恭的、孝顺的人。

您的亲爱的弟媳

海伦

菲利普把信推向一边，向前倾过身子，双手捧住脸。这封信拨动了他的心弦，同时也使他惊讶不已。他感到惊讶的是，此信通篇都是一种说教的口气，在他看来，既不令人生厌，但也不催人伤感。他母亲去世将近二十年了，他只知道她长得很美，除此之外，他对她毫无印象。当知道他母亲生前曾是这么天真，虔诚，菲利普心中不由得好生奇怪。他可从来没想到他母亲的这一方面的性格。他再次捧起他母亲的信，重新读着信中谈及他的段落，读着她对自己所怀的希望和想法。可他却变成了跟他母亲所期望的迥然不同的另一种人。他仔细端详了自己一会儿。也许她还是死了的好。随即，在一时感情冲动的驱使下，菲利普嚓地一下把信撕碎了。信中的亲密感情和愚直口气使此信看上去纯属一种奇特的私人信件。此时，菲利普心中不由得生出一种莫名的情感，总觉得自己阅读这封披露他母亲芳魂的信件是不道德的。接着，他继续整理牧师留下来的那堆令人生厌的信件。

几天后，菲利普来到伦敦，两年来第一次在白天堂而皇之地迈进圣路加医院的大厅。他去见了医学院的秘书。秘书看到菲利普，不胜惊讶，连忙好奇地询问起菲利普前一时期的情况来。菲利普的前一段人生经历给予他一种自信，并使得他能用一种新的眼光来看待事物。要是在过去，听了秘书的询问后，菲利普一定会窘态百出，觉得无地自容。可现在他却头脑冷静，从容以对，回答说有些私事使得他不得不中断学业，现在他想尽快取得当医生的资格。而且为了防止秘书追问，他故意把话说得含含糊糊的。鉴于他最早可以参加的考试科目是助产学和妇科学，他便登记上名字到妇科病房去当名助产医士。时值放假，他没费什么劲就得到了这个位子。两人最后商妥，他的工作安排在八月的最后一周与九月的前两周。菲利普从秘书那儿出来，信步穿过校园。夏季学期的考试刚结束，所以校园里很少见到人，显得空荡荡的。他沿着河边台地闲逛。此时，他心满意足。他暗自思忖着，这下他可以开始过一种崭新的生活了，将把以往的一切过错、愚行和遭受的不幸统统抛在身后。那奔腾不息的河流象征着一切都成了过眼烟云，象征着一切总是在不断地消失，象征着一切皆无关紧要。一个充满机会的灿烂前景展现在他眼前。

菲利普一回到布莱克斯泰勃，就忙着处理他大伯的遗产。拍卖家具的日子定在八月中旬，因为那时将有许多人从各地赶来此地消暑度假，这样家具可以卖好价钱。藏书目录已经打出，并分发给坎特伯雷、梅德斯通和阿什福等地的旧书店的经纪人。

一天下午，菲利普突然心血来潮，跑到坎特伯雷，去观看他原来读书的学校。他打离开学校那天起，一直就没有回去过。他还记得那天离开学校时，他心里怀有一种如释重负之感，认为从那以后，他就可以自由自在，一切听凭自己安排了。漫步在他多年来捻熟的坎特伯雷的狭窄街道上，他心头不禁泛起一股新奇的情感。他望了望那几爿老店铺，依然还在，仍旧在出售与过去一样的商品。书店里一个橱窗摆着教科书、宗教书籍和最近出版的小说，另一个橱窗里悬挂着大教堂和该城的照片。运动器具商店里堆满了钓鱼用具、板球拍、网球拍和足球。那爿裁缝店还在，他整个童年时代穿的衣服都是在这店里做的。那爿鱼店还开着；他大伯以前每次来坎特伯雷都要上这爿店买上几尾鱼的。他沿着肮脏的街道信步朝前走去，来到一堵高高的围墙跟前，围墙里有幢红砖房，那是预备学校。往前走几步就是通向皇家公学的大门。菲利普站在周围几幢大楼环抱的四方院子里。此时四点，学生们从学校里蜂拥而出。他看见教师一个个头戴方帽、身穿长袍，但一个也不认识。他离开这所学校已经十多年了，学校面貌大为改观。菲利普望见了学校校长，只见他缓步从学校朝自己家走去，边走边同一位看样子是个六年级生聊着天。校长的面目依旧，倒无甚变化，还是菲利普记忆中的那个瘦骨嶙峋、形容枯槁、行为怪诞的样子，两道目光还是那样的灼热，不过，原来乌黑的胡于眼下却夹杂着几根银丝，那张缺少血色的脸刻着深深的皱纹。菲利普真想走上前去同他说个话儿，但是又怕校长记不起自己，而自己也怕给别人作自我介绍。

男学生们逗留在学校里，互相交谈着。隔了不多时，其中有些学生急于变着法儿玩耍，便跑出来打球了；后面的学生三三两两地跑出校门。菲利普知道他们这是到板球场去的。还有一批学生进入场地打网球。菲利普站在他们中间，完全是个陌生人，只有一两个学生冷漠地瞥了他一眼。不过，为诺尔曼式的楼梯所吸引而前来参观的人屡见不鲜，因此观光者很少引起人们的注意。菲利普好奇地注视着那些学生。他不无忧伤地思索着他同那些学生之间的距离之大，并心酸地回想起当初他曾想轰轰烈烈干番事业，到头来却成事甚少。在他看来，逝去的岁月，犹如难收的覆水，白白地浪费了。那些孩子一个个精神抖擞，生龙活虎，正在玩着他当年曾经玩过的游戏，就好像自从他离开学校至今，世上连一天都没有过去。然而，当初就在这同一地方，他至少还能叫出每个人的名字来，可现在却没有一个是他认识的。再过上几年，换了别的孩子们在运动场上玩耍，眼前的这批学生也会像他现在这样被撇在一边无人理睬。他很想知道他当年的同窗眼下景况如何：他们也都是三十岁的人了。有的说不定已死了；而活着的也都成家立业，生儿育女了。他们或是军人，或当了牧师，抑或成了医生和律师。他们都行将告别青春而步入不惑之年。他们有谁跟他菲利普一样把生活搞得一团糟的？他想起了他一度深爱的那个男孩来了。说来也奇怪，他竟会记不起他的名字。那个男孩的音容笑貌，菲利普依然记忆犹新，历历在目。他们俩曾是很要好的朋友，可就是记不起他的名字。菲利普饶有兴味地回忆着正是为了他的缘故自己曾妒火中烧的情景。想不起他的名字，可把菲利普急得像什么似的。他渴望自己再变成个小孩，就像他看到的那些闲步穿过四方院子的孩子一样，这样，他就可回避他的那些过错，重新做人，从生活中领悟到更多的道理。蓦地，一股难以忍受的孤独感向他心上袭来。他几乎抱怨起前两年中过的苦日子来了，因为仅仅为了苟且活在世上而作出的苦苦挣扎，却使得生活的痛苦缓和了。你必汗流满面才得糊口。这句格言虽说不是对人类的诅咒，却是一帖使人类俯首听命于生活摆布的麻醉剂。

但是菲利普沉不住气了，又回想起他对人生格局的想法：他所遭受的不幸，不过是一种美丽的、精巧的装饰品的一部分。他不断地提醒自己，什么无聊啊，激动啊，欢乐啊，痛苦啊，他都要高高兴兴地接受下来，因为它们都给他设计的图案增色添彩。他自觉地追求着美。他还记得，自己还是个小孩的时候，一定很喜欢那座哥特式大教堂，正如眼下人们站在网球场看到的一样。于是，他移步来到那儿，双目凝视着乌云密布的苍穹下面那座灰色的庞然建筑物，中央的塔尖高耸人云，好像人们在对上帝赞美似的。孩子们正在打网球，一个个都很敏捷，健壮，活泼。菲利普无由控制地谛听着孩子们的訇喝声和欢笑声。年轻人的叫喊声有其特殊的音色美，然而菲利普只是用眼睛欣赏展现在他面前的美妙的事物。

 

Josiah Graves in his masterful way made arrangements, becoming but economical, for the funeral; and when it was over came back to the vicarage with Philip. The will was in his charge, and with a due sense of the fitness of things he read it to Philip over an early cup of tea. It was written on half a sheet of paper and left everything Mr. Carey had to his nephew. There was the furniture, about eighty pounds at the bank, twenty shares in the A. B. C. company, a few in Allsop’s brewery, some in the Oxford music-hall, and a few more in a London restaurant. They had been bought under Mr. Graves’ direction, and he told Philip with satisfaction:

‘You see, people must eat, they will drink, and they want amusement. You’re always safe if you put your money in what the public thinks necessities.’

His words showed a nice discrimination between the grossness of the vulgar, which he deplored but accepted, and the finer taste of the elect. Altogether in investments there was about five hundred pounds; and to that must be added the balance at the bank and what the furniture would fetch. It was riches to Philip. He was not happy but infinitely relieved.

Mr. Graves left him, after they had discussed the auction which must be held as soon as possible, and Philip sat himself down to go through the papers of the deceased. The Rev. William Carey had prided himself on never destroying anything, and there were piles of correspondence dating back for fifty years and bundles upon bundles of neatly docketed bills. He had kept not only letters addressed to him, but letters which himself had written. There was a yellow packet of letters which he had written to his father in the forties, when as an Oxford undergraduate he had gone to Germany for the long vacation. Philip read them idly. It was a different William Carey from the William Carey he had known, and yet there were traces in the boy which might to an acute observer have suggested the man. The letters were formal and a little stilted. He showed himself strenuous to see all that was noteworthy, and he described with a fine enthusiasm the castles of the Rhine. The falls of Schaffhausen made him ‘offer reverent thanks to the all-powerful Creator of the universe, whose works were wondrous and beautiful,’ and he could not help thinking that they who lived in sight of ‘this handiwork of their blessed Maker must be moved by the contemplation to lead pure and holy lives.’ Among some bills Philip found a miniature which had been painted of William Carey soon after he was ordained. It represented a thin young curate, with long hair that fell over his head in natural curls, with dark eyes, large and dreamy, and a pale ascetic face. Philip remembered the chuckle with which his uncle used to tell of the dozens of slippers which were worked for him by adoring ladies.

The rest of the afternoon and all the evening Philip toiled through the innumerable correspondence. He glanced at the address and at the signature, then tore the letter in two and threw it into the washing-basket by his side. Suddenly he came upon one signed Helen. He did not know the writing. It was thin, angular, and old-fashioned. It began: my dear William, and ended: your affectionate sister. Then it struck him that it was from his own mother. He had never seen a letter of hers before, and her handwriting was strange to him. It was about himself.

My dear William,

Stephen wrote to you to thank you for your congratulations on the birth of our son and your kind wishes to myself. Thank God we are both well and I am deeply thankful for the great mercy which has been shown me. Now that I can hold a pen I want to tell you and dear Louisa myself how truly grateful I am to you both for all your kindness to me now and always since my marriage. I am going to ask you to do me a great favour. Both Stephen and I wish you to be the boy’s godfather, and we hope that you will consent. I know I am not asking a small thing, for I am sure you will take the responsibilities of the position very seriously, but I am especially anxious that you should undertake this office because you are a clergyman as well as the boy’s uncle. I am very anxious for the boy’s welfare and I pray God night and day that he may grow into a good, honest, and Christian man. With you to guide him I hope that he will become a soldier in Christ’s Faith and be all the days of his life God-fearing, humble, and pious.

Your affectionate sister,  Helen.

Philip pushed the letter away and, leaning forward, rested his face on his hands. It deeply touched and at the same time surprised him. He was astonished at its religious tone, which seemed to him neither mawkish nor sentimental. He knew nothing of his mother, dead now for nearly twenty years, but that she was beautiful, and it was strange to learn that she was simple and pious. He had never thought of that side of her. He read again what she said about him, what she expected and thought about him; he had turned out very differently; he looked at himself for a moment; perhaps it was better that she was dead. Then a sudden impulse caused him to tear up the letter; its tenderness and simplicity made it seem peculiarly private; he had a queer feeling that there was something indecent in his reading what exposed his mother’s gentle soul. He went on with the Vicar’s dreary correspondence.

A few days later he went up to London, and for the first time for two years entered by day the hall of St. Luke’s Hospital. He went to see the secretary of the Medical School; he was surprised to see him and asked Philip curiously what he had been doing. Philip’s experiences had given him a certain confidence in himself and a different outlook upon many things: such a question would have embarrassed him before; but now he answered coolly, with a deliberate vagueness which prevented further inquiry, that private affairs had obliged him to make a break in the curriculum; he was now anxious to qualify as soon as possible. The first examination he could take was in midwifery and the diseases of women, and he put his name down to be a clerk in the ward devoted to feminine ailments; since it was holiday time there happened to be no difficulty in getting a post as obstetric clerk; he arranged to undertake that duty during the last week of August and the first two of September. After this interview Philip walked through the Medical School, more or less deserted, for the examinations at the end of the summer session were all over; and he wandered along the terrace by the river-side. His heart was full. He thought that now he could begin a new life, and he would put behind him all the errors, follies, and miseries of the past. The flowing river suggested that everything passed, was passing always, and nothing mattered; the future was before him rich with possibilities.

He went back to Blackstable and busied himself with the settling up of his uncle’s estate. The auction was fixed for the middle of August, when the presence of visitors for the summer holidays would make it possible to get better prices. Catalogues were made out and sent to the various dealers in second-hand books at Tercanbury, Maidstone, and Ashford.

One afternoon Philip took it into his head to go over to Tercanbury and see his old school. He had not been there since the day when, with relief in his heart, he had left it with the feeling that thenceforward he was his own master. It was strange to wander through the narrow streets of Tercanbury which he had known so well for so many years. He looked at the old shops, still there, still selling the same things; the booksellers with school-books, pious works, and the latest novels in one window and photographs of the Cathedral and of the city in the other; the games shop, with its cricket bats, fishing tackle, tennis rackets, and footballs; the tailor from whom he had got clothes all through his boyhood; and the fishmonger where his uncle whenever he came to Tercanbury bought fish. He wandered along the sordid street in which, behind a high wall, lay the red brick house which was the preparatory school. Further on was the gateway that led into King’s School, and he stood in the quadrangle round which were the various buildings. It was just four and the boys were hurrying out of school. He saw the masters in their gowns and mortar-boards, and they were strange to him. It was more than ten years since he had left and many changes had taken place. He saw the headmaster; he walked slowly down from the schoolhouse to his own, talking to a big boy who Philip supposed was in the sixth; he was little changed, tall, cadaverous, romantic as Philip remembered him, with the same wild eyes; but the black beard was streaked with gray now and the dark, sallow face was more deeply lined. Philip had an impulse to go up and speak to him, but he was afraid he would have forgotten him, and he hated the thought of explaining who he was.

Boys lingered talking to one another, and presently some who had hurried to change came out to play fives; others straggled out in twos and threes and went out of the gateway, Philip knew they were going up to the cricket ground; others again went into the precincts to bat at the nets. Philip stood among them a stranger; one or two gave him an indifferent glance; but visitors, attracted by the Norman staircase, were not rare and excited little attention. Philip looked at them curiously. He thought with melancholy of the distance that separated him from them, and he thought bitterly how much he had wanted to do and how little done. It seemed to him that all those years, vanished beyond recall, had been utterly wasted. The boys, fresh and buoyant, were doing the same things that he had done, it seemed that not a day had passed since he left the school, and yet in that place where at least by name he had known everybody now he knew not a soul. In a few years these too, others taking their place, would stand alien as he stood; but the reflection brought him no solace; it merely impressed upon him the futility of human existence. Each generation repeated the trivial round. He wondered what had become of the boys who were his companions: they were nearly thirty now; some would be dead, but others were married and had children; they were soldiers and parsons, doctors, lawyers; they were staid men who were beginning to put youth behind them. Had any of them made such a hash of life as he? He thought of the boy he had been devoted to; it was funny, he could not recall his name; he remembered exactly what he looked like, he had been his greatest friend; but his name would not come back to him. He looked back with amusement on the jealous emotions he had suffered on his account. It was irritating not to recollect his name. He longed to be a boy again, like those he saw sauntering through the quadrangle, so that, avoiding his mistakes, he might start fresh and make something more out of life. He felt an intolerable loneliness. He almost regretted the penury which he had suffered during the last two years, since the desperate struggle merely to keep body and soul together had deadened the pain of living. In the sweat of thy brow shalt thou earn thy daily bread: it was not a curse upon mankind, but the balm which reconciled it to existence.

But Philip was impatient with himself; he called to mind his idea of the pattern of life: the unhappiness he had suffered was no more than part of a decoration which was elaborate and beautiful; he told himself strenuously that he must accept with gaiety everything, dreariness and excitement, pleasure and pain, because it added to the richness of the design. He sought for beauty consciously, and he remembered how even as a boy he had taken pleasure in the Gothic cathedral as one saw it from the precincts; he went there and looked at the massive pile, gray under the cloudy sky, with the central tower that rose like the praise of men to their God; but the boys were batting at the nets, and they were lissom and strong and active; he could not help hearing their shouts and laughter. The cry of youth was insistent, and he saw the beautiful thing before him only with his eyes.