-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Джордж Элиот
-
- Мидлмарч
-
- Стр. 112/572
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
For
the
heroic
times
of
copious
bleeding
and
blistering
had
not
yet
departed
,
still
less
the
times
of
thorough
-
going
theory
,
when
disease
in
general
was
called
by
some
bad
name
,
and
treated
accordingly
without
shilly
-
shally
—
as
if
,
for
example
,
it
were
to
be
called
insurrection
,
which
must
not
be
fired
on
with
blank
-
cartridge
,
but
have
its
blood
drawn
at
once
.
The
strengtheners
and
the
lowerers
were
all
"
clever
"
men
in
somebody
’
s
opinion
,
which
is
really
as
much
as
can
be
said
for
any
living
talents
.
Nobody
’
s
imagination
had
gone
so
far
as
to
conjecture
that
Mr
.
Lydgate
could
know
as
much
as
Dr
.
Sprague
and
Dr
.
Minchin
,
the
two
physicians
,
who
alone
could
offer
any
hope
when
danger
was
extreme
,
and
when
the
smallest
hope
was
worth
a
guinea
.
Still
,
I
repeat
,
there
was
a
general
impression
that
Lydgate
was
something
rather
more
uncommon
than
any
general
practitioner
in
Middlemarch
.
And
this
was
true
.
He
was
but
seven
-
and
-
twenty
,
an
age
at
which
many
men
are
not
quite
common
—
at
which
they
are
hopeful
of
achievement
,
resolute
in
avoidance
,
thinking
that
Mammon
shall
never
put
a
bit
in
their
mouths
and
get
astride
their
backs
,
but
rather
that
Mammon
,
if
they
have
anything
to
do
with
him
,
shall
draw
their
chariot
.
He
had
been
left
an
orphan
when
he
was
fresh
from
a
public
school
.
His
father
,
a
military
man
,
had
made
but
little
provision
for
three
children
,
and
when
the
boy
Tertius
asked
to
have
a
medical
education
,
it
seemed
easier
to
his
guardians
to
grant
his
request
by
apprenticing
him
to
a
country
practitioner
than
to
make
any
objections
on
the
score
of
family
dignity
.
He
was
one
of
the
rarer
lads
who
early
get
a
decided
bent
and
make
up
their
minds
that
there
is
something
particular
in
life
which
they
would
like
to
do
for
its
own
sake
,
and
not
because
their
fathers
did
it
.
Most
of
us
who
turn
to
any
subject
with
love
remember
some
morning
or
evening
hour
when
we
got
on
a
high
stool
to
reach
down
an
untried
volume
,
or
sat
with
parted
lips
listening
to
a
new
talker
,
or
for
very
lack
of
books
began
to
listen
to
the
voices
within
,
as
the
first
traceable
beginning
of
our
love
.
Something
of
that
sort
happened
to
Lydgate
.
He
was
a
quick
fellow
,
and
when
hot
from
play
,
would
toss
himself
in
a
corner
,
and
in
five
minutes
be
deep
in
any
sort
of
book
that
he
could
lay
his
hands
on
:
if
it
were
Rasselas
or
Gulliver
,
so
much
the
better
,
but
Bailey
’
s
Dictionary
would
do
,
or
the
Bible
with
the
Apocrypha
in
it
.
Something
he
must
read
,
when
he
was
not
riding
the
pony
,
or
running
and
hunting
,
or
listening
to
the
talk
of
men
.
All
this
was
true
of
him
at
ten
years
of
age
;
he
had
then
read
through
"
Chrysal
,
or
the
Adventures
of
a
Guinea
,
"
which
was
neither
milk
for
babes
,
nor
any
chalky
mixture
meant
to
pass
for
milk
,
and
it
had
already
occurred
to
him
that
books
were
stuff
,
and
that
life
was
stupid
.
His
school
studies
had
not
much
modified
that
opinion
,
for
though
he
"
did
"
his
classics
and
mathematics
,
he
was
not
pre
-
eminent
in
them
.
It
was
said
of
him
,
that
Lydgate
could
do
anything
he
liked
,
but
he
had
certainly
not
yet
liked
to
do
anything
remarkable
.
He
was
a
vigorous
animal
with
a
ready
understanding
,
but
no
spark
had
yet
kindled
in
him
an
intellectual
passion
;
knowledge
seemed
to
him
a
very
superficial
affair
,
easily
mastered
:
judging
from
the
conversation
of
his
elders
,
he
had
apparently
got
already
more
than
was
necessary
for
mature
life
.
Probably
this
was
not
an
exceptional
result
of
expensive
teaching
at
that
period
of
short
-
waisted
coats
,
and
other
fashions
which
have
not
yet
recurred
.
But
,
one
vacation
,
a
wet
day
sent
him
to
the
small
home
library
to
hunt
once
more
for
a
book
which
might
have
some
freshness
for
him
:
in
vain
!
unless
,
indeed
,
he
took
down
a
dusty
row
of
volumes
with
gray
-
paper
backs
and
dingy
labels
—
the
volumes
of
an
old
Cyclopaedia
which
he
had
never
disturbed
.
It
would
at
least
be
a
novelty
to
disturb
them
.
They
were
on
the
highest
shelf
,
and
he
stood
on
a
chair
to
get
them
down
.
But
he
opened
the
volume
which
he
first
took
from
the
shelf
:
somehow
,
one
is
apt
to
read
in
a
makeshift
attitude
,
just
where
it
might
seem
inconvenient
to
do
so
.
The
page
he
opened
on
was
under
the
head
of
Anatomy
,
and
the
first
passage
that
drew
his
eyes
was
on
the
valves
of
the
heart
.
He
was
not
much
acquainted
with
valves
of
any
sort
,
but
he
knew
that
valvae
were
folding
-
doors
,
and
through
this
crevice
came
a
sudden
light
startling
him
with
his
first
vivid
notion
of
finely
adjusted
mechanism
in
the
human
frame
.
A
liberal
education
had
of
course
left
him
free
to
read
the
indecent
passages
in
the
school
classics
,
but
beyond
a
general
sense
of
secrecy
and
obscenity
in
connection
with
his
internal
structure
,
had
left
his
imagination
quite
unbiassed
,
so
that
for
anything
he
knew
his
brains
lay
in
small
bags
at
his
temples
,
and
he
had
no
more
thought
of
representing
to
himself
how
his
blood
circulated
than
how
paper
served
instead
of
gold
.
But
the
moment
of
vocation
had
come
,
and
before
he
got
down
from
his
chair
,
the
world
was
made
new
to
him
by
a
presentiment
of
.
endless
processes
filling
the
vast
spaces
planked
out
of
his
sight
by
that
wordy
ignorance
which
he
had
supposed
to
be
knowledge
.
From
that
hour
Lydgate
felt
the
growth
of
an
intellectual
passion
.
We
are
not
afraid
of
telling
over
and
over
again
how
a
man
comes
to
fall
in
love
with
a
woman
and
be
wedded
to
her
,
or
else
be
fatally
parted
from
her
.
Is
it
due
to
excess
of
poetry
or
of
stupidity
that
we
are
never
weary
of
describing
what
King
James
called
a
woman
’
s
"
makdom
and
her
fairnesse
,
"
never
weary
of
listening
to
the
twanging
of
the
old
Troubadour
strings
,
and
are
comparatively
uninterested
in
that
other
kind
of
"
makdom
and
fairnesse
"
which
must
be
wooed
with
industrious
thought
and
patient
renunciation
of
small
desires
?
In
the
story
of
this
passion
,
too
,
the
development
varies
:
sometimes
it
is
the
glorious
marriage
,
sometimes
frustration
and
final
parting
.
And
not
seldom
the
catastrophe
is
bound
up
with
the
other
passion
,
sung
by
the
Troubadours
.
For
in
the
multitude
of
middle
-
aged
men
who
go
about
their
vocations
in
a
daily
course
determined
for
them
much
in
the
same
way
as
the
tie
of
their
cravats
,
there
is
always
a
good
number
who
once
meant
to
shape
their
own
deeds
and
alter
the
world
a
little
.
The
story
of
their
coming
to
be
shapen
after
the
average
and
fit
to
be
packed
by
the
gross
,
is
hardly
ever
told
even
in
their
consciousness
;
for
perhaps
their
ardor
in
generous
unpaid
toil
cooled
as
imperceptibly
as
the
ardor
of
other
youthful
loves
,
till
one
day
their
earlier
self
walked
like
a
ghost
in
its
old
home
and
made
the
new
furniture
ghastly
.
Nothing
in
the
world
more
subtle
than
the
process
of
their
gradual
change
!
In
the
beginning
they
inhaled
it
unknowingly
:
you
and
I
may
have
sent
some
of
our
breath
towards
infecting
them
,
when
we
uttered
our
conforming
falsities
or
drew
our
silly
conclusions
:
or
perhaps
it
came
with
the
vibrations
from
a
woman
’
s
glance
.
Lydgate
did
not
mean
to
be
one
of
those
failures
,
and
there
was
the
better
hope
of
him
because
his
scientific
interest
soon
took
the
form
of
a
professional
enthusiasm
:
he
had
a
youthful
belief
in
his
bread
-
winning
work
,
not
to
be
stifled
by
that
initiation
in
makeshift
called
his
’
prentice
days
;
and
he
carried
to
his
studies
in
London
,
Edinburgh
,
and
Paris
,
the
conviction
that
the
medical
profession
as
it
might
be
was
the
finest
in
the
world
;
presenting
the
most
perfect
interchange
between
science
and
art
;
offering
the
most
direct
alliance
between
intellectual
conquest
and
the
social
good
.
Lydgate
’
s
nature
demanded
this
combination
:
he
was
an
emotional
creature
,
with
a
flesh
-
and
-
blood
sense
of
fellowship
which
withstood
all
the
abstractions
of
special
study
.
He
cared
not
only
for
"
cases
,
"
but
for
John
and
Elizabeth
,
especially
Elizabeth
.
There
was
another
attraction
in
his
profession
:
it
wanted
reform
,
and
gave
a
man
an
opportunity
for
some
indignant
resolve
to
reject
its
venal
decorations
and
other
humbug
,
and
to
be
the
possessor
of
genuine
though
undemanded
qualifications
.
He
went
to
study
in
Paris
with
the
determination
that
when
he
provincial
home
again
he
would
settle
in
some
provincial
town
as
a
general
practitioner
,
and
resist
the
irrational
severance
between
medical
and
surgical
knowledge
in
the
interest
of
his
own
scientific
pursuits
,
as
well
as
of
the
general
advance
:
he
would
keep
away
from
the
range
of
London
intrigues
,
jealousies
,
and
social
truckling
,
and
win
celebrity
,
however
slowly
,
as
Jenner
had
done
,
by
the
independent
value
of
his
work
.
For
it
must
be
remembered
that
this
was
a
dark
period
;
and
in
spite
of
venerable
colleges
which
used
great
efforts
to
secure
purity
of
knowledge
by
making
it
scarce
,
and
to
exclude
error
by
a
rigid
exclusiveness
in
relation
to
fees
and
appointments
,
it
happened
that
very
ignorant
young
gentlemen
were
promoted
in
town
,
and
many
more
got
a
legal
right
to
practise
over
large
areas
in
the
country
.
Also
,
the
high
standard
held
up
to
the
public
mind
by
the
College
of
which
which
gave
its
peculiar
sanction
to
the
expensive
and
highly
rarefied
medical
instruction
obtained
by
graduates
of
Oxford
and
Cambridge
,
did
not
hinder
quackery
from
having
an
excellent
time
of
it
;
for
since
professional
practice
chiefly
consisted
in
giving
a
great
many
drugs
,
the
public
inferred
that
it
might
be
better
off
with
more
drugs
still
,
if
they
could
only
be
got
cheaply
,
and
hence
swallowed
large
cubic
measures
of
physic
prescribed
by
unscrupulous
ignorance
which
had
taken
no
degrees
.
