historical lectures and essays(查尔斯金斯利历史讲座)






been so。      We have had; in the last generation; an exactly similar case in a 

philosopher; now I trust in heaven; and to whose genius I owe too much to 

mention his name here。 

     But that Paracelsus was a sot I cannot believe。                 That face of his; as 

painted by the great Tintoretto; is not the face of a drunkard; quack; bully; 

but of such a man as Browning has conceived。                  The great globular brain; 

the   sharp   delicate   chin;   is   not   that   of   a   sot。   Nor   are   those   eyes;   which 

gleam  out   from  under   the   deep   pressed   brow;   wild;  intense;   hungry; 

homeless; defiant;   and yet   plaining; the eyes   of   a sotbut   rather the 

eyes of a man who struggles to tell a great secret; and cannot find words 

for it; and yet wonders why men cannot understand; will not believe what 

seems to him as clear as daya tragical face; as you well can see。 

     God keep us all from making our lives a tragedy by one great sin。 And 

now let us end this sad story with the last words which Mr。 Browning puts 

into the mouth of Paracelsus; dying in the hospital at Salzburg; which have 

e literally true: 

       Meanwhile; I have done well though not all well。 As yet men cannot 

do without contempt; ’Tis for their good; and therefore fit awhile That they 

reject the weak and scorn the false; Rather than praise the strong and true 

in me: But after; they will know me。               If I stoop Into a dark tremendous 

sea of cloud; It is but for a time。          I press God’s lamp Close to my breast; 



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its splendour; soon or late; Will pierce the gloom。                I shall emerge one day。 



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                  GEORGE BUCHANAN; 

                                SCHOLAR 



     The    scholar;    in  the   sixteenth    century;    was   a  far   more    important 

personage   than   now。       The   supply   of   learned   men   was   very   small;   the 

demand   for   them   very   great。     During   the   whole   of   the   fifteenth;   and   a 

great part of the sixteenth century; the human mind turned more and more 

from the scholastic philosophy of the Middle Ages to that of the Romans 

and   the   Greeks;   and   found   more   and   more   in   old   Pagan Art   an   element 

which   Monastic   Art   had   not;   and   which   was   yet   necessary   for   the   full 

satisfaction     of  their   craving    after  the  Beautiful。     At    such   a  crisis  of 

thought   and   taste;   it   was   natural   that   the   classical   scholar;   the   man   who 

knew old Rome; and still more old Greece; should usurp the place of the 

monk; as teacher of mankind; and that scholars should form; for a while; a 

new   and   powerful   aristocracy;   limited   and   privileged;   and   all   the   more 

redoubtable;   because   its   power   lay   in   intellect;   and   had   been   won   by 

intellect alone。 

     Those who; whether poor or rich; did not fear the monk and priest; at 

least   feared   the   〃scholar;〃   who   held;   so   the   vulgar   believed;   the  keys   of 

that magic lore by which the old necromancers had built cities like Rome; 

and     worked     marvels     of   mechanical      and    chemical     skill;  which     the 

degenerate modern could never equal。 

     If the 〃scholar〃 stopped in a town; his hostess probably begged of him 

a    charm     against    toothache     or   rheumatism。        The     penniless     knight 

discoursed with him on alchemy; and the chances of retrieving his fortune 

by the art of transmuting metals into gold。             The queen or bishop worried 

him in private about casting their nativities; and finding their fates among 

the stars。    But the statesman; who dealt with more practical matters; hired 



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him as an advocate and rhetorician; who could fight his master’s enemies 

with   the   weapons   of   Demosthenes   and   Cicero。         Wherever   the   scholar’s 

steps were turned; he might be master of others; as long as he was master 

of   himself。     The   plaints   which   he   so   often   uttered   concerning   the 

cruelty of fortune; the fickleness of princes and so forth; were probably no 

more just then than such plaints are now。                 Then; as now; he got his 

deserts;   and   the   world   bought   him   at   his   own   price。   If   he   chose   to   sell 

himself to this patron and to that; he was used and thrown away:                       if he 

chose to remain in honourable independence; he was courted and feared。 

     Among the successful scholars of the sixteenth century; none surely is 

more notable than George Buchanan。                 The poor Scotch widow’s son; by 

force of native wit; and; as I think; by force of native worth; fights his way 

upward;       through    poverty     and    severest    persecution;      to  bee      the 

correspondent        and    friend   of   the   greatest    literary   celebrities    of  the 

Continent; parable; in their opinion; to the best Latin poets of antiquity; 

the    preceptor     of   princes;    the  counsellor     and    spokesman       of   Scotch 

statesmen in the most dangerous of times; and leaves behind him political 

treatises; which have influenced not only the history of his own country; 

but that of the civilised world。 

     Such a success could not be attained without making enemies; perhaps 

without   making   mistakes。        But   the   more   we   study   George   Buchanan’s 

history;   the   less   we   shall   be   inclined   to   hunt   out   his   failings;   the   more 

inclined to admire his worth。          A shrewd; sound…hearted; affectionate man; 

with a strong love of right and scorn of wrong; and a humour withal which 

saved himexcept on really great occasionsfrom bitterness; and helped 

him to laugh where narrower natures would have only snarled;he is; in 

many   respects;   a   type   of   those   Lowland   Scots;   who   long   preserved   his 

jokes;    genuine     or  reputed;    as   a  mon       household     book。    {16}     A 

schoolmaster        by   profession;    and    struggling    for  long    years   amid    the 

temptations which; in those days; degraded his class into cruel and sordid 

pedants; he rose from the mere pedagogue to be; in the best sense of the 

word; a courtier:         〃One;〃 says Daniel Heinsius; 〃who seemed not only 



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born for a court; but born to amend it。               He brought to his queen that at 

which she could not wonder enough。                For; by affecting a certain liberty in 

censuring morals; he avoided all offence; under the cloak of   simplicity。〃 

Of him and his peers; Turnebus; and Muretus; and their friend Andrea 

Govea; Ronsard; the French court poet; said that they had nothing of the 

pedagogue about them but the gown and cap。                   〃Austere in face; and rustic 

in   his   looks;〃   says   David     Buchanan;      〃but   most    polished    in   style  and 

speech;      and    continually;     even    in   serious    conversation;      jesting    most 

wittily。〃     〃Rough…hewn;         slovenly;    and    rude;〃     says   Peacham;       in   his 

〃pleat Gentleman;〃 speaking of him; probably; as he appeared in old 

age;   〃in   his   person;   behaviour;   and   fashion;   seldom   caring   for   a   better 

outside   than   a   rugge…gown   girt   close   about   him:          yet   his   inside   and 

conceipt in poesie was most rich; and his sweetness and facilitie in verse 

most excellent。〃        A typical Lowland Scot; as I said just now; he seems to 

have absorbed all the best culture which France could afford him; without 

losing   the   strength;   honesty;   and   humour   which   he   inherited   from   his 

Stirlingshire kindred。 

     The story of his life is easily traced。             When an old man; he himself 

wrote   down   the   main   events   of   it;   at   the   request   of   his   friends;   and   his 

sketch has been filled out by mentators; if not always favourable; at 

least erudite。      Born in 1506; at the Moss; in Killearnwhere an obelisk to 

his   memory;   so   one   reads;   has   been   erected   in   this   centuryof   a   family 

〃rather   ancient   than   rich;〃   his   father   dead   in   the   prime   of   manhood;   his 

grandfather       a  spendthrift;    he   and   his  seven    brothers     and   sisters   we