Мхи старої садиби
The Procession of Life
Tailorsandshoemakers,beingsedentarymen,willchieflycongregateintoonepartoftheprocessionandmarchundersimilarbannersofdisease;butamongthemwemayobservehereandthereasicklystudent,whohaslefthishealthbetweentheleavesofclassicvolumes;andclerks,likewise,whohavecaughttheirdeathsonhighofficialstools;andmenofgeniustoo,whohavewrittensheetaftersheetwithpensdippedintheirheart’sblood.Theseareawretchedquaking,short-breathedset.Butwhatisthiscloudofpale-cheeked,slendergirls,whodisturbtheearwiththemultiplicityoftheirshort,drycoughs?Theyareseamstresses,whohavepliedthedailyandnightlyneedleintheserviceofmastertailorsandclose-fistedcontractors,untilnowitisalmosttimeforeachtohemthebordersofherownshroud.Consumptionpointstheirplaceintheprocession.Withtheirsadsisterhoodareintermingledmanyyouthfulmaidenswhohavesickenedinaristocraticmansions,andforwhoseaidsciencehasunavailinglysearcheditsvolumes,andwhombreathlesslovehaswatched.Inourrankstherichmaidenandthepoorseamstressmaywalkarminarm.Wemightfindinnumerableotherinstances,wherethebondofmutualdisease—nottospeakofnation-sweepingpestilence—embraceshighandlow,andmakesthekingabrotheroftheclown.Butitisnothardtoownthatdiseaseisthenaturalaristocrat.
