馬克吐溫的異樣人生 Edward Mills And George Benton: A Tale

這是 Mark Twain 寫的一個短篇小故事：Edward Mills And George Benton: A Tale

原文還是比較流暢的，
為了方便跟我一樣不擅閱讀英文的讀者，以下分別附上中英版本。

這兩人之間有遠親關係——大概是七等堂親之類的。還在襁褓中時，他們成了孤兒，被一對無子的布蘭特夫婦收養，並很快深深喜愛上他們。布蘭特夫婦總是說：「要純潔、誠實、清醒、自律、勤勞，並體貼他人，人生的成功便有保障。」在孩子們真正理解這句話前，這句話已被重複了數千次；在他們還不會背誦主禱文之前，早已能自己背出這句話。它被漆在育嬰室的門上，是他們最早學會閱讀的東西之一。這句話註定成為愛德華·米爾斯一生不移的準則。有時布蘭特夫婦會稍微改動用詞，說：「要純潔、誠實、清醒、自律、體貼，你就永遠不會缺少朋友。」

小米爾斯是大家的安慰。當他想要糖果卻得不到時，他會聽從理由，並安分下來。但小本頓想要糖果時，則會哭鬧直到得到為止。小米爾斯珍惜玩具；小本頓總是很快弄壞它們，然後又鬧得家裡雞犬不寧，最後只好勸小愛德華把自己的玩具讓給他，家裡才得安寧。

等孩子稍大些，喬治在某些方面成了沉重的負擔：他不愛惜衣服，因此常常身著新衣，而愛德華則不是如此。男孩們逐漸長大。愛德華愈來愈成為安慰，喬治卻愈來愈令人憂慮。對愛德華的請求，只要一句「我寧可你不要去」就夠了——指的是游泳、溜冰、野餐、摘漿果、看馬戲等等男孩最愛的事。但對喬治則沒用，他必須被縱容，否則就要橫衝直撞。自然，他總是玩得最多、最痛快。布蘭特夫婦不許孩子們夏夜九點後還在外玩耍，愛德華乖乖守規矩，但喬治總是十點從窗戶溜出去，玩到午夜才回。這壞習慣幾乎無法改掉，最後布蘭特夫婦只好用蘋果和彈珠收買他待在家裡。布蘭特夫婦花盡心思想要管束喬治，卻總說含著淚，愛德華根本不需要他們費心，他是那麼好、那麼體貼，樣樣完美。

後來孩子們大了，該學手藝了：愛德華自願去做學徒；喬治則要勸誘加賄賂。愛德華勤奮誠實，不再是布蘭特夫婦的負擔；師傅也稱讚他。但喬治卻逃跑了，布蘭特先生花了錢和心力才把他找回來。之後他又逃跑——更多麻煩與花費。第三次逃跑時，還偷了幾樣東西帶走。布蘭特先生再一次付出代價，好不容易才勸師傅不去起訴他。

愛德華穩步前進，最終成了師傅的合夥人。喬治卻始終不改，讓兩位老恩人心力交瘁，絞盡腦汁保護他不至於毀滅。愛德華少年時就熱心於主日學、辯論會、小額傳教、反菸組織、反褻瀆協會等；成年後，他安靜但可靠地幫助教會、禁酒會，以及各種提升人心的運動。這一切沒引人注意，因為這是他「天性使然」。

最終，老夫婦去世了。遺囑表達了他們對愛德華的驕傲，卻把僅有的財產留給喬治——因為他「需要它」；而「由於天意眷顧」，愛德華不需要。這財產附帶條件：喬治必須用它買下愛德華合夥人的股份，否則將歸於一個名叫「囚犯之友協會」的慈善組織。老夫婦還留下一封信，懇求親愛的愛德華代替他們照顧喬治，像他們那樣幫助與庇護他。

愛德華順從了，喬治成了他的合夥人。但他毫無價值：他原本就沾染酒癮，如今更是成了酒鬼，面貌和眼神都顯得不堪。愛德華一直與一位溫柔善良的姑娘相愛，正打算成婚。就在此時，喬治開始淚眼婆娑、懇求那姑娘，最後她哭著告訴愛德華，自己的神聖責任很明確：她必須嫁給「可憐的喬治」，以「改造他」。她明知這會摧毀自己的心，但「責任就是責任」。於是她嫁給了喬治，愛德華心幾乎碎了。後來他振作起來，娶了另一位優秀的姑娘。

兩家都生了孩子。瑪麗竭力想改造丈夫，但任務太艱鉅。喬治繼續喝酒，不久開始虐待妻子與孩子。許多好人不斷勸他——幾乎從未停止過——但他只是把這當成理所當然，從不悔改。不久他又添了惡習：暗中賭博。他欠下巨債，暗中以公司的名義借錢，最後鬧到警長查封，兩個堂兄弟淪為赤貧。

時局艱難，愛德華帶著家人搬到閣樓，四處尋工，日夜奔走。求職卻無門。他驚訝又痛心地發現，人們對他的熱情很快冷卻，過去的關心不復存在。但他仍不斷尋找。終於得到一份挑磚工的工作，他感激不盡；但從此無人再認識他、關心他。他也無力繳納曾參加的道德組織會費，眼睜睜看著自己被停權，羞愧難當。

然而，愛德華愈被世人遺忘，喬治卻愈受矚目。他醉倒街頭，被「女士禁酒救助會」的成員救起，募款幫他，讓他清醒一週，並找到工作。這事登了報。於是全城矚目，許多人來幫助他「改過」。他兩個月滴酒不沾，成了善良人們的寵兒。後來他再度墮落，全城哀歎，但那群高貴的女士又一次救他，清理、餵養、傾聽他的懺悔，再給他工作。這事又登報，全城為他「重獲新生」而流淚。一場盛大的禁酒復興會上，他在眾人簇擁下簽署戒酒誓約，觀眾喜極而泣。他成了全城的英雄，還加薪了。此事同樣登報。

喬治大約每三個月就再度墮落一次，但每次都有人救他，給他新工作。最後，他甚至被帶到各地巡迴演講，作為「改過酒徒」大受歡迎，做了許多「好事」。

在家鄉，他也深得信任。於是他利用這份信任，偽造一位大人物的名義，從銀行騙得巨款。輿論壓力很大，最後他僅被判兩年。服刑一年後，熱心人士奔走成功，給他特赦。出獄時，「囚犯之友協會」馬上給他工作和薪水，其他慈善人士也提供幫助。愛德華曾在走投無路時求過該協會工作，卻因「你坐過牢嗎？」一句話而被拒。

期間，愛德華默默對抗逆境。雖仍貧窮，但已成了銀行受尊敬、信任的出納員，有穩定收入。喬治從未探望或問候他，反而常長時間外出，傳言不佳。

一個冬夜，一群蒙面竊賊闖入銀行，發現愛德華獨自守著。他們要他交出保險箱密碼，他拒絕了。他說雇主信任他，他不能背叛。他可以死，但絕不洩露。賊人將他殺害。

兇手被捕，主謀竟是喬治·本頓。輿論一度同情寡婦孤兒，報紙呼籲全國銀行捐款相助。結果總共籌得五百多美元——平均每家銀行約三分之八美分。愛德華所在的銀行則試圖證明（卻慘敗）他帳目不清，是他自己「畏罪自殺」。

喬治受審，全城立刻忘了寡婦孤兒，只關心「可憐的喬治」。盡一切努力想救他，但失敗了。他被判死刑。州長被淚眼請願者包圍：年輕姑娘、老處女、寡婦、孤兒……但這一次州長不為所動。

此時喬治「得救了」。消息傳遍全城。他的牢房每天鮮花不斷，少女與婦女環繞，歌聲、祈禱、淚水滿溢。這樣一直持續到絞刑架。他頭戴黑帽，昂然赴死，觀眾哭聲震天。他的墓碑上寫著：「他打過那場美好的仗。」

而那位勇敢的出納員墓碑上刻著：「要純潔、誠實、清醒、自律、體貼，你將永不——」

沒人知道為什麼會停在這裡，但就是這樣了。

據說，他的遺孤如今困苦度日。但沒關係，一群「感念」的人湊了四萬兩千美元，用來建了一座紀念教堂。

These two were distantly related to each other -- seventh cousins, or something of that sort. While still babies they became orphans, and were adopted by the Brants, a childless couple, who quickly grew very fond of them. The Brants were always saying: "Be pure, honest, sober, industrious, and considerate of others, and success in life is assured." The children heard this repeated some thousands of times before they understood it; they could repeat it themselves long before they could say the Lord's Prayer; it was painted over the nursery door, and was about the first thing they learned to read. It was destined to be the unswerving rule of Edward Mills's life. Sometimes the Brants changed the wording a little, and said: "Be pure, honest, sober, industrious, considerate, and you will never lack friends."

Baby Mills was a comfort to everybody about him. When he wanted candy and could not have it, he listened to reason, and contented himself without it. When Baby Benton wanted candy, he cried for it until he got it. Baby Mills took care of his toys; Baby Benton always destroyed his in a very brief time, and then made himself to insistently disagreeable that, in order to have peace in the house, little Edward was persuaded to yield up his play-things to him.

When the children were a little older, Georgie became a heavy expense in one respect: he took no care of his clothes; consequently, he shone frequently in new ones, with was not the case with Eddie. The boys grew apace. Eddie was an increasing comfort, Georgie an increasing solicitude. It was always sufficient to say, in answer to Eddie's petitions, "I would rather you would not do it"-meaning swimming, skating, picnicking, berrying, circusing, and all sorts of things which boys delight in. But NO answer was sufficient for Georgie; he had to be humored in his desires, or he would carry them with a high hand. Naturally, no boy got more swimming skating, berrying, and so forth than he; no body ever had a better time. The good Brants did not allow the boys to play out after nine in summer evenings; they were sent to bed at that hour; Eddie honorably remained, but Georgie usually slipped out of the window toward ten, and enjoyed himself until midnight. It seemed impossible to break Georgie of this bad habit, but the Brants managed it at last by hiring him, with apples and marbles, to stay in. The good Brants gave all their time and attention to vain endeavors to regulate Georgie; they said, with grateful tears in their eyes, that Eddie needed no efforts of theirs, he was so good, so considerate, and in all ways so perfect.

By and by the boys were big enough to work, so they were apprenticed to a trade: Edward went voluntarily; George was coaxed and bribed. Edward worked hard and faithfully, and ceased to be an expense to the good Brants; they praised him, so did his master; but George ran away, and it cost Mr. Brant both money and trouble to hunt him up and get him back. By and by he ran away again -- more money and more trouble. He ran away a third time -- and stole a few things to carry with him. Trouble and expense for Mr. Brant once more; and, besides, it was with the greatest difficulty that he succeeded in persuading the master to let the youth go unprosecuted for the theft.

Edward worked steadily along, and in time became a full partner in his master's business. George did not improve; he kept the loving hearts of his aged benefactors full of trouble, and their hands full of inventive activities to protect him from ruin. Edward, as a boy, had interested himself in Sunday-schools, debating societies, penny missionary affairs, anti-tobacco organizations, anti-profanity associations, and all such things; as a man, he was a quiet but steady and reliable helper in the church, the temperance societies, and in all movements looking to the aiding and uplifting of men. This excited no remark, attracted no attention -- for it was his "natural bent."

Finally, the old people died. The will testified their loving pride in Edward, and left their little property to George-because he "needed it"; whereas, "owing to a bountiful Providence," such was not the case with Edward. The property was left to George conditionally: he must buy out Edward's partner with it; else it must go to a benevolent organization called the Prisoner's Friend Society. The old people left a letter, in which they begged their dear son Edward to take their place and watch over George, and help and shield him as they had done.

Edward dutifully acquiesced, and George became his partner in the business. He was not a valuable partner: he had been meddling with drink before; he soon developed into a constant tippler now, and his flesh and eyes showed the fact unpleasantly. Edward had been courting a sweet and kindly spirited girl for some time. They loved each other dearly, and -- But about this period George began to haunt her tearfully and imploringly, and at last she went crying to Edward, and said her high and holy duty was plain before her-she must not let her own selfish desires interfere with it: she must marry "poor George" and "reform him." It would break her heart, she knew it would, and so on; but duty was duty. So she married George, and Edward's heart came very near breaking, as well as her own. However, Edward recovered, and married another girl-a very excellent one she was, too.

Children came to both families. Mary did her honest best to reform her husband, but the contract was too large. George went on drinking, and by and by he fell to misusing her and the little ones sadly. A great many good people strove with George -- they were always at it, in fact -- but he calmly took such efforts as his due and their duty, and did not mend his ways. He added a vice, presently -- that of secret gambling. He got deeply in debt; he borrowed money on the firm's credit, as quietly as he could, and carried this system so far and so successfully that one morning the sheriff took possession of the establishment, and the two cousins found themselves penniless.

Times were hard, now, and they grew worse. Edward moved his family into a garret, and walked the streets day and night, seeking work. He begged for it, but in was really not to be had. He was astonished to see how soon his face became unwelcome; he was astonished and hurt to see how quickly the ancient interest which people had had in him faded out and disappeared. Still, he MUST get work; so he swallowed his chagrin, and toiled on in search of it. At last he got a job of carrying bricks up a ladder in a hod, and was a grateful man in consequence; but after that NOBODY knew him or cared anything about him. He was not able to keep up his dues in the various moral organizations to which he belonged, and had to endure the sharp pain of seeing himself brought under the disgrace of suspension.

But the faster Edward died out of public knowledge and interest, the faster George rose in them. He was found lying, ragged and drunk, in the gutter one morning. A member of the Ladies' Temperance Refuge fished him out, took him in hand, got up a subscription for him, kept him sober a whole week, then got a situation for him. An account of it was published.

General attention was thus drawn to the poor fellow, and a great many people came forward and helped him toward reform with their countenance and encouragement. He did not drink a drop for two months, and meantime was the pet of the good. Then he fell -- in the gutter; and there was general sorrow and lamentation. But the noble sisterhood rescued him again. They cleaned him up, they fed him, they listened to the mournful music of his repentances, they got him his situation again. An account of this, also, was published, and the town was drowned in happy tears over the re-restoration of the poor beast and struggling victim of the fatal bowl. A grand temperance revival was got up, and after some rousing speeches had been made the chairman said, impressively: "We are not about to call for signers; and I think there is a spectacle in store for you which not many in this house will be able to view with dry eyes." There was an eloquent pause, and then George Benton, escorted by a red-sashed detachment of the Ladies of the Refuge, stepped forward upon the platform and signed the pledge. The air was rent with applause, and everybody cried for joy. Everybody wrung the hand of the new convert when the meeting was over; his salary was enlarged next day; he was the talk of the town, and its hero. An account of it was published.

George Benton fell, regularly, every three months, but was faithfully rescued and wrought with, every time, and good situations were found for him. Finally, he was taken around the country lecturing, as a reformed drunkard, and he had great houses and did an immense amount of good.

He was so popular at home, and so trusted -- during his sober intervals-that he was enabled to use the name of a principal citizen, and get a large sum of money at the bank. A mighty pressure was brought to bear to save him from the consequences of his forgery, and it was partially successful -- he was "sent up" for only two years. When, at the end of a year, the tireless efforts of the benevolent were crowned with success, and he emerged from the penitentiary with a pardon in his pocket, the Prisoner's Friend Society met him at the door with a situation and a comfortable salary, and all the other benevolent people came forward and gave him advice, encouragement and help. Edward Mills had once applied to the Prisoner's Friend Society for a situation, when in dire need, but the question, "Have you been a prisoner?" made brief work of his case.

While all these things were going on, Edward Mills had been quietly making head against adversity. He was still poor, but was in receipt of a steady and sufficient salary, as the respected and trusted cashier of a bank. George Benton never came near him, and was never heard to inquire about him. George got to indulging in long absences from the town; there were ill reports about him, but nothing definite.

One winter's night some masked burglars forced their way into the bank, and found Edward Mills there alone. They commanded him to reveal the "combination," so that they could get into the safe. He refused. They threatened his life. He said his employers trusted him, and he could not be traitor to that trust. He could die, if he must, but while he lived he would be faithful; he would not yield up the "combination." The burglars killed him.

The detectives hunted down the criminals; the chief one proved to be George Benton. A wide sympathy was felt for the widow and orphans of the dead man, and all the newspapers in the land begged that all the banks in the land would testify their appreciation of the fidelity and heroism of the murdered cashier by coming forward with a generous contribution of money in aid of his family, now bereft of support. The result was a mass of solid cash amounting to upward of five hundred dollars -- an average of nearly three-eights of a cent for each bank in the Union. The cashier's own bank testified its gratitude by endeavoring to show (but humiliatingly failed in it) that the peerless servant's accounts were not square, and that he himself had knocked his brains out with a bludgeon to escape detection and punishment.

George Benton was arraigned for trial. Then everybody seemed to forget the widow and orphans in their solicitude for poor George. Everything that money and influence could do was done to save him, but it all failed; he was sentenced to death. Straightway the Governor was besieged with petitions for commutation or pardon; they were brought by tearful young girls; by sorrowful old maids; by deputations of pathetic widows; by shoals of impressive orphans. But no, the Governor -- for once -- would not yield.

Now George Benton experienced religion. The glad news flew all around. From that time forth his cell was always full of girls and women and fresh flowers; all the day long there was prayer, and hymn-singing, and thanksgiving, and homilies, and tears, with never an interruption, except an occasional five-minute intermission for refreshments.

This sort of thing continued up to the very gallows, and George Benton went proudly home, in the black cap, before a wailing audience of the sweetest and best that the region could produce. His grave had fresh flowers on it every day, for a while, and the head-stone bore these words, under a hand pointing aloft: "He has fought the good fight."

The brave cashier's head-stone has this inscription: "Be pure, honest, sober, industrious, considerate, and you will never --"

Nobody knows who gave the order to leave it that way, but it was so given.

The cashier's family are in stringent circumstances, now, it is said; but no matter; a lot of appreciative people, who were not willing that an act so brave and true as his should go unrewarded, have collected forty-two thousand dollars -- and built a Memorial Church with it.