During thejourney back to England I thought much of Strickland. I tried to set in orderwhat I had to tell his wife. It was unsatisfactory, and I could not imaginethat she would be content with me; I was not content with myself. Stricklandperplexed me. I could not understand his motives. When I had asked him whatfirst gave him the idea of being a painter, he was unable or unwilling to tellme. I could make nothing of it. I tried to persuade myself than an obscurefeeling of revolt had been gradually coming to a head in his slow mind, but tochallenge this was the undoubted fact that he had never shown any impatiencewith the monotony of his life. If, seized by an intolerable boredom, he haddetermined to be a painter merely to break with irksome ties, it would havebeen comprehensible, and commonplace; but commonplace is precisely what I felthe was not. At last, because I was romantic, I devised an explanation which Iacknowledged to be far-fetched, but which was the only one that in any waysatisfied me. It was this: I asked myself whether there was not in his soulsome deep-rooted instinct of creation, which the circumstances of his life hadobscured, but which grew relentlessly, as a cancer may grow in the livingtissues, till at last it took possession of his whole being and forced himirresistibly to action. The cuckoo lays its egg in the strange bird's nest, andwhen the young one is hatched it shoulders its foster-brothers out and breaksat last the nest that has sheltered it. 

在回伦敦的旅途上，关于思特里克兰德我又想了很多。我试着把要告诉他妻子的事理出一个头绪来。事情办得并不妙，我想象得出，她不会对我感到满意的，我对自己也不满意。思特里克兰德叫我迷惑不解。我不明白他行事的动机。当我问他，他最初为什么想起要学绘画的时候，他没能给我说清楚，也许他根本就不愿意告诉我。我一点儿也搞不清楚。我企图这样解释这件事：在他的迟钝的心灵中逐渐产生了一种朦胧模糊的反叛意识。但是，一件不容置疑的事实却驳斥了上述解释：他对自己过去那种单调的生活从来没有流露出什么厌烦不耐啊。如果他只是无法忍受无聊的生活而决心当一个画家，以图挣脱烦闷的枷锁，这是可以理解的，也是极其平常的事；但是问题在于，我觉得他绝对不是一个平常的人。最后，也许我有些罗曼蒂克，我想象出一个解释来，尽管这个解释有些牵强，却是唯一能使我感到满意的。那就是：我怀疑是否在他的灵魂中深深埋藏着某种创作的欲望，这种欲望尽管为他的生活环境掩盖着，却一直在毫不留情地膨胀壮大，正象肿瘤在有机组织中不断长大一样，直到最后完全把他控制住，逼得他必须采取行动，毫无反抗能力。杜鹃把蛋下到别的鸟巢里，当雏鸟孵出以后，就把它的异母兄弟们挤出巢外，最后还要把庇护它的巢窝毁掉。