章节正文
terms. Not by Captain Littlehales, however, and I wish to reply to
what he says with all possible deference. His illustration
borrowed from boxing is very apt, and in a certain sense makes for
my contention. Yes. A blow delivered with a boxing-glove will
draw blood or knock a man out; but it would not crush in his nose
flat or break his jaw for him--at least, not always. And this is
exactly my point.
Twice in my sea life I have had occasion to be impressed by the
preserving effect of a fender. Once I was myself the man who
dropped it over. Not because I was so very clever or smart, but
simply because I happened to be at hand. And I agree with Captain
Littlehales that to see a steamer's stern coming at you at the rate
of only two knots is a staggering experience. The thing seems to
have power enough behind it to cut half through the terrestrial
globe.
And perhaps Captain Littlehales is right? It may be that I am
mistaken in my appreciation of circumstances and possibilities in
this case--or in any such case. Perhaps what was really wanted
there was an extraordinary man and an extraordinary fender. I care
nothing if possibly my deep feeling has betrayed me into something
which some people call absurdity" target="_blank" title="n.荒谬，愚蠢；谬论">absurdity.
Absurd was the word applied to the proposal for carrying "enough
boats for all" on board the big liners. And my absurdity" target="_blank" title="n.荒谬，愚蠢；谬论">absurdity can
affect no lives, break no bones--need make no one angry. Why
should I care, then, as long as out of the discussion of my
absurdity" target="_blank" title="n.荒谬，愚蠢；谬论">absurdity there will emerge the acceptance of the suggestion of
Captain F. Papillon, R.N., for the universal and compulsory fitting
of very heavy collision fenders on the stems of all mechanically
propelled ships?
An extraordinary man we cannot always get from heaven on order, but
an extraordinary fender that will do its work is well within the
power of a committee of old boatswains to plan out, make, and place
in position. I beg to ask, not in a provocative spirit, but simply
as to a matter of fact which he is better qualified to judge than I
am--Will Captain Littlehales affirm that if the Storstad had
carried, slung securely across the stem, even nothing thicker than
a single bale of wool (an ordinary, hand-pressed, Australian wool-
bale), it would have made no difference?
If scientific men can invent an air cushion, a gas cushion, or even
an electricitycushion (with wires or without), to fit neatly round
the stems and bows of ships, then let them go to work, in God's
name and produce another "marvel of science" without loss of time.
For something like this has long been due--too long for the credit
of that part of mankind which is not absurd, and in which I
include, among others, such people as marine underwriters, for
instance.
Meanwhile, turning to materials I am familiar with, I would put my
trust in canvas, lots of big rope, and in large, very large
quantities of old junk.
It sounds awfullyprimitive, but if it will mitigate the mischief
in only fifty per cent. of cases, is it not well worth trying?
Most collisions occur at slow speeds, and it ought to be remembered
that in case of a big liner's loss, involving many lives, she is
generally sunk by a ship much smaller than herself.
JOSEPH CONRAD.
A FRIENDLY PLACE
Eighteen years have passed since I last set foot in the London
Sailors' Home. I was not staying there then; I had gone in to try
to find a man I wanted to see. He was one of those able seamen
who, in a watch, are a perfect blessing to a young officer. I
could perhaps remember here and there among the shadows of my sea-
life a more daring man, or a more agile man, or a man more expert
in some special branch of his calling--such as wire splicing, for
instance; but for all-round competence, he was unequalled. As
character he was sterling stuff. His name was Anderson. He had a
fine, quiet face, kindly eyes, and a voice which matched that
something attractive in the whole man. Though he looked yet in the
prime of life, shoulders, chest, limbs untouched by decay, and
though his hair and moustache were only iron-grey, he was on board
ship generally called Old Andy by his fellows. He accepted the
name with some complacency.
I made my enquiry at the highly-glazed entry office. The clerk on
duty opened an enormous ledger, and after running his finger down a
page, informed me that Anderson had gone to sea a week before, in a
ship bound round the Horn. Then, smiling at me, he added: "Old
Andy. We know him well, here. What a nice fellow!"
I, who knew what a "good man," in a sailor sense, he was, assented
without reserve. Heaven only knows when, if ever, he came back
from that voyage, to the Sailors' Home of which he was a faithful
client.
I went out glad to know he was safely at sea, but sorry not to have
seen him; though, indeed, if I had, we would not have exchanged
more than a score of words, perhaps. He was not a talkative man,
Old Andy, whose affectionate ship-name clung to him even in that
Sailors' Home, where the staff understood and liked the sailors
(those men without a home) and did its duty by them with an
unobtrusive tact, with a patient and humorous sense of their
idiosyncrasies, to which I hasten to testify now, when the very
existence of that institution is menaced after so many years of
most useful work.
Walking away from it on that day eighteen years ago, I was far from
thinking it was for the last time. Great changes have come since,
over land and sea; and if I were to seek somebody who knew Old Andy
it would be (of all people in the world) Mr. John Galsworthy. For
Mr. John Galsworthy, Andy, and myself have been shipmates together
in our different stations, for some forty days in the Indian Ocean
in the early nineties. And, but for us two, Old Andy's very memory
would be gone from this changing earth.
Yes, things have changed--the very sky, the atmosphere, the light
of judgment which falls on the labours of men, either splendid or
obscure. Having been asked to say a word to the public on behalf
of the Sailors' Home, I felt immensely flattered--and troubled.
Flattered to have been thought of in that connection; troubled to
find myself in touch again with that past so deeply rooted in my
heart. And the illusion of nearness is so great while I trace
these lines that I feel as if I were speaking in the name of that
worthy Sailor-Shade of Old Andy, whose faithfully hard life seems
to my vision a thing of yesterday.
But though the past keeps firm hold on one, yet one feels with the
same warmth that the men and the institutions of to-day have their
merit and their claims. Others will know how to set forth before
the public the merit of the Sailors' Home in the eloquent terms of
hard facts and some few figures. For myself, I can only bring a
personal note, give a glimpse of the human side of the good work
for sailors ashore, carried on through so many decades with a
perfect understanding of the end in view. I have been in touch
with the Sailors' Home for sixteen years of my life, off and on; I
have seen the changes in the staff and I have observed the subtle
alterations in the physiognomy of that stream of sailors passing
through it, in from the sea and out again to sea, between the years
1878 and 1894. I have listened to the talk on the decks of ships
in all latitudes, when its name would turn up frequently, and if I
had to characterise its good work in one sentence, I would say
that, for seamen, the Well Street Home was a friendly place.
It was essentially just that; quietly, unobtrusively, with a regard
for the independence of the men who sought its shelter ashore, and
with no ulterior aims behind that effectivefriendliness. No small
merit this. And its claim on the generosity of the public is
derived from a long record of valuable public service. Since we
are all agreed that the men of the merchant service are a national
asset worthy of care and sympathy, the public could express this
sympathy no better than by enabling the Sailors' Home, so useful in
the past, to continue its friendly offices to the seamen of future
generations.
Footnotes:
{1} Yvette and Other Stories. Translated by Ada Galsworthy.
{2} TURGENEV: A Study. By Edward Garnett.
{3} STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY. By Hugh Clifford.
{4} QUIET DAYS IN SPAIN. By C. Bogue Luffmann.
{5} Existence after Death Implied by Science. By Jasper B. Hunt,
M.A.
{6} THE ASCENDING EFFORT. By George Bourne.
{7} Since writing the above, I am told that such doors are fitted
in the bunkers of more than one ship in the Atlantic trade.
{8} The loss of the Empress of Ireland.
End
what he says with all possible deference. His illustration
borrowed from boxing is very apt, and in a certain sense makes for
my contention. Yes. A blow delivered with a boxing-glove will
draw blood or knock a man out; but it would not crush in his nose
flat or break his jaw for him--at least, not always. And this is
exactly my point.
Twice in my sea life I have had occasion to be impressed by the
preserving effect of a fender. Once I was myself the man who
dropped it over. Not because I was so very clever or smart, but
simply because I happened to be at hand. And I agree with Captain
Littlehales that to see a steamer's stern coming at you at the rate
of only two knots is a staggering experience. The thing seems to
have power enough behind it to cut half through the terrestrial
globe.
And perhaps Captain Littlehales is right? It may be that I am
mistaken in my appreciation of circumstances and possibilities in
this case--or in any such case. Perhaps what was really wanted
there was an extraordinary man and an extraordinary fender. I care
nothing if possibly my deep feeling has betrayed me into something
which some people call absurdity" target="_blank" title="n.荒谬，愚蠢；谬论">absurdity.
Absurd was the word applied to the proposal for carrying "enough
boats for all" on board the big liners. And my absurdity" target="_blank" title="n.荒谬，愚蠢；谬论">absurdity can
affect no lives, break no bones--need make no one angry. Why
should I care, then, as long as out of the discussion of my
absurdity" target="_blank" title="n.荒谬，愚蠢；谬论">absurdity there will emerge the acceptance of the suggestion of
Captain F. Papillon, R.N., for the universal and compulsory fitting
of very heavy collision fenders on the stems of all mechanically
propelled ships?
An extraordinary man we cannot always get from heaven on order, but
an extraordinary fender that will do its work is well within the
power of a committee of old boatswains to plan out, make, and place
in position. I beg to ask, not in a provocative spirit, but simply
as to a matter of fact which he is better qualified to judge than I
am--Will Captain Littlehales affirm that if the Storstad had
carried, slung securely across the stem, even nothing thicker than
a single bale of wool (an ordinary, hand-pressed, Australian wool-
bale), it would have made no difference?
If scientific men can invent an air cushion, a gas cushion, or even
an electricitycushion (with wires or without), to fit neatly round
the stems and bows of ships, then let them go to work, in God's
name and produce another "marvel of science" without loss of time.
For something like this has long been due--too long for the credit
of that part of mankind which is not absurd, and in which I
include, among others, such people as marine underwriters, for
instance.
Meanwhile, turning to materials I am familiar with, I would put my
trust in canvas, lots of big rope, and in large, very large
quantities of old junk.
It sounds awfullyprimitive, but if it will mitigate the mischief
in only fifty per cent. of cases, is it not well worth trying?
Most collisions occur at slow speeds, and it ought to be remembered
that in case of a big liner's loss, involving many lives, she is
generally sunk by a ship much smaller than herself.
JOSEPH CONRAD.
A FRIENDLY PLACE
Eighteen years have passed since I last set foot in the London
Sailors' Home. I was not staying there then; I had gone in to try
to find a man I wanted to see. He was one of those able seamen
who, in a watch, are a perfect blessing to a young officer. I
could perhaps remember here and there among the shadows of my sea-
life a more daring man, or a more agile man, or a man more expert
in some special branch of his calling--such as wire splicing, for
instance; but for all-round competence, he was unequalled. As
character he was sterling stuff. His name was Anderson. He had a
fine, quiet face, kindly eyes, and a voice which matched that
something attractive in the whole man. Though he looked yet in the
prime of life, shoulders, chest, limbs untouched by decay, and
though his hair and moustache were only iron-grey, he was on board
ship generally called Old Andy by his fellows. He accepted the
name with some complacency.
I made my enquiry at the highly-glazed entry office. The clerk on
duty opened an enormous ledger, and after running his finger down a
page, informed me that Anderson had gone to sea a week before, in a
ship bound round the Horn. Then, smiling at me, he added: "Old
Andy. We know him well, here. What a nice fellow!"
I, who knew what a "good man," in a sailor sense, he was, assented
without reserve. Heaven only knows when, if ever, he came back
from that voyage, to the Sailors' Home of which he was a faithful
client.
I went out glad to know he was safely at sea, but sorry not to have
seen him; though, indeed, if I had, we would not have exchanged
more than a score of words, perhaps. He was not a talkative man,
Old Andy, whose affectionate ship-name clung to him even in that
Sailors' Home, where the staff understood and liked the sailors
(those men without a home) and did its duty by them with an
unobtrusive tact, with a patient and humorous sense of their
idiosyncrasies, to which I hasten to testify now, when the very
existence of that institution is menaced after so many years of
most useful work.
Walking away from it on that day eighteen years ago, I was far from
thinking it was for the last time. Great changes have come since,
over land and sea; and if I were to seek somebody who knew Old Andy
it would be (of all people in the world) Mr. John Galsworthy. For
Mr. John Galsworthy, Andy, and myself have been shipmates together
in our different stations, for some forty days in the Indian Ocean
in the early nineties. And, but for us two, Old Andy's very memory
would be gone from this changing earth.
Yes, things have changed--the very sky, the atmosphere, the light
of judgment which falls on the labours of men, either splendid or
obscure. Having been asked to say a word to the public on behalf
of the Sailors' Home, I felt immensely flattered--and troubled.
Flattered to have been thought of in that connection; troubled to
find myself in touch again with that past so deeply rooted in my
heart. And the illusion of nearness is so great while I trace
these lines that I feel as if I were speaking in the name of that
worthy Sailor-Shade of Old Andy, whose faithfully hard life seems
to my vision a thing of yesterday.
But though the past keeps firm hold on one, yet one feels with the
same warmth that the men and the institutions of to-day have their
merit and their claims. Others will know how to set forth before
the public the merit of the Sailors' Home in the eloquent terms of
hard facts and some few figures. For myself, I can only bring a
personal note, give a glimpse of the human side of the good work
for sailors ashore, carried on through so many decades with a
perfect understanding of the end in view. I have been in touch
with the Sailors' Home for sixteen years of my life, off and on; I
have seen the changes in the staff and I have observed the subtle
alterations in the physiognomy of that stream of sailors passing
through it, in from the sea and out again to sea, between the years
1878 and 1894. I have listened to the talk on the decks of ships
in all latitudes, when its name would turn up frequently, and if I
had to characterise its good work in one sentence, I would say
that, for seamen, the Well Street Home was a friendly place.
It was essentially just that; quietly, unobtrusively, with a regard
for the independence of the men who sought its shelter ashore, and
with no ulterior aims behind that effectivefriendliness. No small
merit this. And its claim on the generosity of the public is
derived from a long record of valuable public service. Since we
are all agreed that the men of the merchant service are a national
asset worthy of care and sympathy, the public could express this
sympathy no better than by enabling the Sailors' Home, so useful in
the past, to continue its friendly offices to the seamen of future
generations.
Footnotes:
{1} Yvette and Other Stories. Translated by Ada Galsworthy.
{2} TURGENEV: A Study. By Edward Garnett.
{3} STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY. By Hugh Clifford.
{4} QUIET DAYS IN SPAIN. By C. Bogue Luffmann.
{5} Existence after Death Implied by Science. By Jasper B. Hunt,
M.A.
{6} THE ASCENDING EFFORT. By George Bourne.
{7} Since writing the above, I am told that such doors are fitted
in the bunkers of more than one ship in the Atlantic trade.
{8} The loss of the Empress of Ireland.
End
- boxing [´bɔksiŋ]
n.拳击运动 (初中英语单词) - extraordinary [ik´strɔ:dinəri] a.非常的；额外的 (初中英语单词)
- discussion [di´skʌʃən] n.讨论；辩论 (初中英语单词)
- emerge [i´mə:dʒ] vi.出现；显露；暴露 (初中英语单词)
- suggestion [sə´dʒestʃən] n.建议，提议；暗示 (初中英语单词)
- universal [,ju:ni´və:səl] a.宇宙的；普遍的 (初中英语单词)
- scientific [,saiən´tifik] a.科学(上)的 (初中英语单词)
- invent [in´vent] vt.发明；捏造 (初中英语单词)
- cushion [´kuʃən] n.垫子，坐褥 (初中英语单词)
- absurd [əb´sə:d] a.荒谬的，可笑的 (初中英语单词)
- canvas [´kænvəs] n.帆布；油画(布) (初中英语单词)
- primitive [´primitiv] a.原始的 n.原始人 (初中英语单词)
- blessing [´blesiŋ] n.祝福 (初中英语单词)
- attractive [ə´træktiv] a.有吸引力；诱人的 (初中英语单词)
- enormous [i´nɔ:məs] a.巨大地，很，极 (初中英语单词)
- running [´rʌniŋ] a.奔跑的；流动的 (初中英语单词)
- voyage [´vɔi-idʒ] n.&vi.航海；航程；旅行 (初中英语单词)
- safely [´seifli] ad.安全地；平安地 (初中英语单词)
- hasten [´heisən] vt.催促；促进 vi.赶紧 (初中英语单词)
- institution [,insti´tju:ʃən] n.建立；制定；制度 (初中英语单词)
- indian [´indiən] a.印度的 n.印度人 (初中英语单词)
- atmosphere [´ætməsfiə] n.大气；空气；气氛 (初中英语单词)
- connection [kə´nekʃən] n.联系；关系；联运 (初中英语单词)
- vision [´viʒən] n.视觉；想象力；幻影 (初中英语单词)
- warmth [wɔ:mθ] n.温暖；热情；激动 (初中英语单词)
- glimpse [glimps] n.&v.瞥见 (初中英语单词)
- ashore [ə´ʃɔ:] ad.向岸上 (初中英语单词)
- stream [stri:m] n.河 vi.流出；飘扬 (初中英语单词)
- sentence [´sentəns] n.判决 vt.宣判；处刑 (初中英语单词)
- independence [,indi´pendəns] n.独立，自主，自立 (初中英语单词)
- effective [i´fektiv] a.有效的；有力的 (初中英语单词)
- valuable [´væljuəbəl, -jubəl] a.有价值的，贵重的 (初中英语单词)
- worthy [´wə:ði] a.有价值的；值得的 (初中英语单词)
- sympathy [´simpəθi] n.同情，怜悯 (初中英语单词)
- humanity [hju:´mæniti] n.人类；人性；仁慈 (初中英语单词)
- existence [ig´zistəns] n.存在；生存；生活 (初中英语单词)
- writing [´raitiŋ] n.书写；写作；书法 (初中英语单词)
- appreciation [ə,pri:ʃi´eiʃən] n.评价；感激 (高中英语单词)
- acceptance [ək´septəns] n.接受；承认 (高中英语单词)
- compulsory [kəm´pʌlsəri] a.强迫的；义务的 (高中英语单词)
- affirm [ə´fə:m] vt.肯定，断言，证实 (高中英语单词)
- electricity [i,lek´trisiti] n.电；电学；电流 (高中英语单词)
- marine [mə´ri:n] a.海的 n.海军陆战队 (高中英语单词)
- awfully [´ɔ:fuli] ad.令人畏惧地 (高中英语单词)
- affectionate [ə´fekʃənit] a.亲爱的 (高中英语单词)
- testify [´testifai] v.证明；证实；表明 (高中英语单词)
- illusion [i´lu:ʒən] n.幻觉；幻影；错觉 (高中英语单词)
- faithfully [´feiθfəli] ad.忠实地；诚恳地 (高中英语单词)
- generosity [,dʒenə´rɔsiti] n.慷慨；慷慨的行为 (高中英语单词)
- contention [kən´tenʃən] n.论点；竞争；争论 (英语四级单词)
- absurdity [əb´sə:diti] n.荒谬，愚蠢；谬论 (英语四级单词)
- daring [´deəriŋ] a.&n.勇敢(的) (英语四级单词)
- sterling [´stə:liŋ] a.真正的 n.英国货币 (英语四级单词)
- humorous [´hju:mərəs] a.富于幽默的，诙谐的 (英语四级单词)
- immensely [i´mensli] ad.极大地，无限地 (英语四级单词)
- eloquent [´eləkwənt] a.流利的；雄辩的 (英语四级单词)
- essentially [i´senʃəli] ad.本质上，基本上 (英语四级单词)
- empress [´empris] n.女皇；皇后 (英语四级单词)
- applied [ə´plaid] a.实用的，应用的 (英语六级单词)
- collision [kə´liʒən] n.碰幢；冲突；互撞事件 (英语六级单词)
- securely [si´kjuəli] ad.安全地；无疑地 (英语六级单词)
- untouched [ʌn´tʌtʃt] a.原样的；未触动过的 (英语六级单词)
- speaking [´spi:kiŋ] n.说话 a.发言的 (英语六级单词)
- friendliness [´frendlis] n.友爱，友好，友谊 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
章节正文
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