“My grandmother sent me to school, but I looked at the master,
and saw that he was a smooth, round ferule—or an improper noun—or
a vulgar fraction, and refused to obey him. Or he was a piece of
string, a rag, a willow-wand, and I had a contemptuous pity. But
one was a well of cool, deep water, and looking suddenly in, one
day, I saw the stars. He gave me all my schooling. With him I used
to walk by the sea, and, as we strolled and the waves plunged in
long legions before us, I looked at him through the spectacles,
and as his eye dilated with the boundless view, and his chest
heaved with an impossible desire, I saw Xerxes and his army tossing
and glittering, rank upon rank, multitude upon multitude, out of
sight, but ever regularly advancing and with the confused roar of
ceaseless music, prostrating themselves in abject homage. Or, as
with arms outstretched and hair streaming on the wind, he chanted
full lines of the resounding Iliad, I saw Homer pacing the AEgean
sands in the Greek sunsets of forgotten times.
“My grandmother died, and I was thrown into the world without
resources, and with no capital but my spectacles. I tried to find
employment, but men were shy of me. There was a vague suspicion
that I was either a little crazed, or a good deal in league
with the Prince of Darkness. My companions who would persist in
calling a piece of painted muslin a fair and fragrant flower had
no difficulty; success waited for them around every corner, and
arrived in every ship. I tried to teach, for I loved children. But
if anything excited my suspicion, and, putting on my spectacles, I
saw that I was fondling a snake, or smelling at a bud with a worm
in it, I sprang up in horror and ran away; or, if it seemed to me
through the glasses that a cherub smiled upon me, or a rose was
blooming in my buttonhole, then I felt myself imperfect and impure,
not fit to be leading and training what was so essentially superior
in quality to myself, and I kissed the children and left them
weeping and wondering.
“In despair I went to a great merchant on the island, and asked him
to employ me.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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