the professor at the breakfast table-第2部分

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themselves　in　the　two　great　churches；　the　Congregational　and　the

Presbyterian；　and　the　very　distinct　fissure　which　is　manifest　in　the

transplanted　Anglican　church　of　this　country。　　Recent　circumstances

have　brought　out　the　fact　of　the　great　change　in　the　dogmatic

communities　which　has　been　going　on　silently　but　surely。　　The

licensing　of　a　missionary；　the　transfer　of　a　Professor　from　one

department　to　another；　the　election　of　a　Bishop；each　of　these

movements　furnishes　evidence　that　there　is　no　such　thing　as　an　air…

tight　reservoir　of　doctrinal　finalities。



The　folding…doors　are　wide　open　to　every　Protestant　to　enter　all　the

privileged　precincts　and　private　apartments　of　the　various　exclusive

religious　organizations。　　We　may　demand　the　credentials　of　every

creed　and　catechise　all　the　catechisms。　　So　we　may　discuss　the

gravest　questions　unblamed　over　our　morning　coffee…cups　or　our

evening　tea…cups。　　There　is　no　rest　for　the　Protestant　until　he　gives

up　his　legendary　anthropology　and　all　its　dogmatic　dependencies。



It　is　only　incidentally；　however；　that　the　Professor　at　the

Breakfast…Table　handles　matters　which　are　the　subjects　of　religious

controversy。　　The　reader　who　is　sensitive　about　having　his　fixed

beliefs　dealt　with　as　if　they　were　open　to　question　had　better　skip

the　pages　which　look　as　if　they　would　disturb　his　complacency。

〃Faith〃　is　the　most　precious　of　possessions；　and　it　dislikes　being

meddled　with。　　It　means；　of　course；　self…trust；that　is；　a　belief　in

the　value　of　our；　own　opinion　of　a　doctrine；　of　a　church；　of　a

religion；　of　a　Being；　a　belief　quite　independent　of　any　evidence　that

we　can　bring　to　convince　a　jury　of　our　fellow　beings。　　Its　roots　are

thus　inextricably　entangled　with　those　of　self…love　and　bleed　as

mandrakes　were　said　to；　when　pulled　up　as　weeds。　　Some　persons　may

even　at　this　late　day　take　offence　at　a　few　opinions　expressed　in　the

following　pages；　but　most　of　these　passages　will　be　read　without　loss

of　temper　by　those　who　disagree　with　them；　and　by…and…by　they　may　be

found　too　timid　and　conservative　for　intelligent　readers；　if　they　are

still　read　by　any。



BEVERLY　FARM；　MASS。；　June　18；　1891。



O。　　W。　　H。













　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　THE　PROFESSOR



　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　AT　THE

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　BREAKFAST…TABLE。





　　　　　　　　　　What　he　said；　what　he　heard；　and　what　he　saw。









I



I　intended　to　have　signalized　my　first　appearance　by　a　certain　large

statement；　which　I　flatter　myself　is　the　nearest　approach　to　a

universal　formula；　of　life　yet　promulgated　at　this　breakfast…table。

It　would　have　had　a　grand　effect。　　For　this　purpose　I　fixed　my　eyes

on　a　certain　divinity…student；　with　the　intention　of　exchanging　a　few

phrases；　and　then　forcing　my　court…card；　namely；　The　great　end　of

being。　I　will　thank　you　for　the　sugar；I　said。　Man　is　a

dependent　creature。



It　is　a　small　favor　to　ask；said　the　divinity…student；and　passed

the　sugar　to　me。



Life　is　a　great　bundle　of　little　things；I　said。



The　divinity…student　smiled；　as　if　that　were　the　concluding　epigram

of　the　sugar　question。



You　smile；I　said。　Perhaps　life　seems　to　you　a　little　bundle　of

great　things？



The　divinity…student　started　a　laugh；　but　suddenly　reined　it　back

with　a　pull；　as　one　throws　a　horse　on　his　haunches。　Life　is　a　great

bundle　of　great　things；he　said。



（NOW；　THEN！）　　The　great　end　of　being；　after　all；　is。。。。



Hold　on！　said　my　neighbor；　a　young　fellow　whose　name　seems　to　be

John；　and　nothing　else；for　that　is　what　they　all　call　him；hold

on！　the　Sculpin　is　go'n'　to　say　somethin'。



Now　the　Sculpin　（Cottus　Virginianus）　is　a　little　water…beast　which

pretends　to　consider　itself　a　fish；　and；　under　that　pretext；　hangs

about　the　piles　upon　which　West…Boston　Bridge　is　built；　swallowing

the　bait　and　hook　intended　for　flounders。　　On　being　drawn　from　the

water；　it　exposes　an　immense　head；　a　diminutive　bony　carcass；　and　a

surface　so　full　of　spines；　ridges；　ruffles；　and　frills；　that　the

naturalists　have　not　been　able　to　count　them　without　quarrelling

about　the　number；　and　that　the　colored　youth；　whose　sport　they　spoil；

do　not　like　to　touch　them；　and　especially　to　tread　on　them；　unless

they　happen　to　have　shoes　on；　to　cover　the　thick　white　soles　of　their

broad　black　feet。



When；　therefore；　I　heard　the　young　fellow's　exclamation；　I　looked

round　the　table　with　curiosity　to　see　what　it　meant。　　At　the　further

end　of　it　I　saw　a　head；　and　aa　small　portion　of　a　little　deformed

body；　mounted　on　a　high　chair；　which　brought　the　occupant　up　to　a

fair　level　enough　for　him　to　get　at　his　food。　　His　whole　appearance

was　so　grotesque；　I　felt　for　a　minute　as　if　there　was　a　showman

behind　him　who　would　pull　him　down　presently　and　put　up　Judy；　or　the

hangman；　or　the　Devil；　or　some　other　wooden　personage　of　the　famous

spectacle。　　I　contrived　to　lose　the　first　of　his　sentence；　but　what　I

heard　began　so：



by　the　Frog…Pond；　when　there　were　frogs　in　and　the　folks　used　to

come　down　from　the　tents　on　section　and　Independence　days　with　their

pails　to　get　water　to　make　egg…pop　with。　　Born　in　Boston；　went　to

school　in　Boston　as　long　as　the　boys　would　let　me。　The　little　man

groaned；　turned；　as　if　to　look　around；　and　went　on。　Ran　away　from

school　one　day　to　see　Phillips　hung　for　killing　Denegri　with　a

logger…head。　　That　was　in　flip　days；　when　there　were　always　two　three

loggerheads　in　the　fire。　　I'm　a　Boston　boy；　I　tell　you；born　at

North　End；　and　mean　to　be　buried　on　Copp's　Hill；　with　the　good　old

underground　people；the　Worthylakes；　and　the　rest　of　'em。　　Yes；up

on　the　old　hill；　where　they　buried　Captain　Daniel　Malcolm　in　a　stone

grave；　ten　feet　deep；　to　keep　him　safe　from　the　red…coats；　in　those

old　times　when　the　world　was　frozen　up　tight　and　there　was　n't　but

one　spot　open；　and　that　was　right　over　Faneuil　all；and　black　enough

it　looked；　I　tell　you！　　There　's　where　my　bones　shall　lie；　Sir；　and

rattle　away　when　the　big　guns　go　off　at　the　Navy　Yard　opposite！　　You

can't　make　me　ashamed　of　the　old　place！　　Full　crooked　little

streets；I　was　born　and　used　to　run　round　in　one　of　'em



I　should　think　so；said　that　young　man　whom　I　hear　them　call

〃John；〃softly；　not　meaning　to　be　heard；　nor　to　be　cruel；　but

thinking　in　a　half…whisper；　evidently。　I　should　think　so；　and　got

kinked　up；　turnin'　so　many　corners。　The　little　man　did　not　hear

what　was　said；　but　went　on；



full　of　crooked　little　streets；　but　I　tell　you　Boston　has　opened；

and　kept　open；　more　turnpikes　that　lead　straight　to　free　thought　and

free　speech　and　free　deeds　than　any　other　city　of　live　men　or　dead

men；I　don't　care　how　broad　their　streets　are；　nor　how　high　their

steeples！



How　high　is　Bosting　meet'n'…house？said　a　person　with　black

whiskers　and　imperial；　a　velvet　waistcoat；　a　guard…chain　rather　too

massive；　and　a　diamond　pin　so　very　large　that　the　most　trusting

nature　might　confess　an　inward　suggestion；of　course；