robert falconer-第123节
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you in my heart; and gave me such teaching and such training; that I
have found you at last。 And now I have found you; I will hold you。
You cannot escapeyou will not want to escape any more; father?'
Andrew made no reply to this appeal。 It sounded like imprisonment
for life; I suppose。 But thought was moving in him。 After a long
pause; during which the son's heart was hungering for a word whereon
to hang a further hope; the old man spoke again; muttering as if he
were only speaking his thoughts unconsciously。
'Where's the use? There's no forgiveness for me。 My mother is
going to heaven。 I must go to hell。 No。 It's no good。 Better
leave it as it is。 I daren't see her。 It would kill me to see
her。'
'It will kill her not to see you; and that will be one sin more on
your conscience; father。'
Andrew got up and walked about the room。 And Robert only then arose
from his knees。
'And there's my mother;' he said。
Andrew did not reply; but Robert saw when he turned next towards the
light; that the sweat was standing in beads on his forehead。
'Father;' he said; going up to him。
The old man stopped in his walk; turned; and faced his son。
'Father;' repeated Robert; 'you've go to repent; and God won't let
you off; and you needn't think it。 You'll have to repent some day。'
'In hell; Robert;' said Andrew; looking him full in the eyes; as he
had never looked at him before。 It seemed as if even so much
acknowledgment of the truth had already made him bolder and
honester。
'Yes。 Either on earth or in hell。 Would it not be better on earth?'
'But it will be no use in hell;' he murmured。
In those few words lay the germ of the preference for hell of poor
souls; enfeebled by wickedness。 They will not have to do anything
thereonly to moan and cry and suffer for ever; they think。 It is
effort; the out…going of the living will that they dread。 The
sorrow; the remorse of repentance; they do not so much regard: it is
the action it involves; it is the having to turn; be different; and
do differently; that they shrink from; and they have been taught to
believe that this will not be required of them therein that awful
refuge of the will…less。 I do not say they think thus: I only say
their dim; vague; feeble feelings are such as; if they grew into
thought; would take this form。 But tell them that the fire of God
without and within them will compel them to bethink themselves; that
the vision of an open door beyond the smoke and the flames will ever
urge them to call up the ice…bound will; that it may obey; that the
torturing spirit of God in them will keep their consciences awake;
not to remind them of what they ought to have done; but to tell them
what they must do now; and hell will no longer fascinate them。 Tell
them that there is no refuge from the compelling Love of God; save
that Love itselfthat He is in hell too; and that if they make
their bed in hell they shall not escape him; and then; perhaps; they
will have some true presentiment of the worm that dieth not and the
fire that is not quenched。
'Father; it will be of use in hell;' said Robert。 'God will give you
no rest even there。 You will have to repent some day; I do
believeif not now under the sunshine of heaven; then in the
torture of the awful world where there is no light but that of the
conscience。 Would it not be better and easier to repent now; with
your wife waiting for you in heaven; and your mother waiting for you
on earth?'
Will it be credible to my reader; that Andrew interrupted his son
with the words;
'Robert; it is dreadful to hear you talk like that。 Why; you don't
believe in the Bible!'
His words will be startling to one who has never heard the lips of a
hoary old sinner drivel out religion。 To me they are not so
startling as the words of Christian women and bishops of the Church
of England; when they say that the doctrine of the everlasting
happiness of the righteous stands or falls with the doctrine of the
hopeless damnation of the wicked。 Can it be that to such the word
is everything; the spirit nothing? No。 It is only that the devil is
playing a very wicked prank; not with them; but in them: they are
pluming themselves on being selfish after a godly sort。
'I do believe the Bible; father;' returned Robert; 'and have ordered
my life by it。 If I had not believed the Bible; I fear I should
never have looked for you。 But I won't dispute about it。 I only
say I believe that you will be compelled to repent some day; and
that now is the best time。 Then; you will not only have to repent;
but to repent that you did not repent now。 And I tell you; father;
that you shall go to my grandmother。'
CHAPTER XVI。
CHANGE OF SCENE。
But various reasons combined to induce Falconer to postpone yet for
a period their journey to the North。 Not merely did his father
require an unremitting watchfulness; which it would be difficult to
keep up in his native place amongst old friends and acquaintances;
but his health was more broken than he had at first supposed; and
change of air and scene without excitement was most desirable。 He
was anxious too that the change his mother must see in him should be
as little as possible attributable to other causes than those that
years bring with them。 To this was added that his own health had
begun to suffer from the watching and anxiety he had gone through;
and for his father's sake; as well as for the labour which yet lay
before him; he would keep that as sound as he might。 He wrote to
his grandmother and explained the matter。 She begged him to do as
he thought best; for she was so happy that she did not care if she
should never see Andrew in this world: it was enough to die in the
hope of meeting him in the other。 But she had no reason to fear
that death was at hand; for; although much more frail; she felt as
well as ever。
By this time Falconer had introduced me to his father。 I found him
in some things very like his son; in others; very different。 His
manners were more polished; his pleasure in pleasing much greater:
his humanity had blossomed too easily; and then run to seed。 Alas;
to no seed that could bear fruit! There was a weak expression about
his moutha wavering interrogation: it was so different from the
firmly…closed portals whence issued the golden speech of his son!
He had a sly; sidelong look at times; whether of doubt or cunning;
I could not always determine。 His eyes; unlike his son's; were of a
light blue; and hazy both in texture and expression。 His hands were
long…fingered and tremulous。 He gave your hand a sharp squeeze; and
the same instant abandoned it with indifference。 I soon began to
discover in him a tendency to patronize any one who showed him a
particle of respect as distinguished from common…place civility。
But under all outward appearances it seemed to me that there was a
change going on: at least being very willing to believe it; I found
nothing to render belief impossible。
He was very fond of the flute his son had given him; and on that
sweetest and most expressionless of instruments he played
exquisitely。
One evening when I called to see them; Falconer said;
'We are going out of town for a few weeks; Gordon: will you go with
us?'
'I am afraid I can't。'
'Why? You have no teaching at present; and your writing you can do
as well in the country as in town。'
'That is true; but still I don't see how I can。 I am too poor for
one thing。'
'Between you and me that is nonsense。'
'Well; I withdraw that;' I said。 'But there is so much to be done;
specially as you will be away; and Miss St John is at the Lakes。'
'That is all very true; but you need a change。 I have seen for some
weeks that you are failing。 Mind; it is our best work that He
wants; not the dregs of our exhaustion。 I hope you are not of the
mind of our friend Mr。 Watts; the curate of St。 Gregory's。'
'I thought you had a high opinion of Mr。 Watts;' I returned。
'So I have。 I hope it is not necessary to agree with a man in
everything before we can have a high opinion of him。'
'Of course not。 But what is it you hope I am not of his opinion
in?'
'He seems ambitious of killing himself with workof wearing himself
out in the service of his masterand as quickly as possible。 A
good deal of that kind of thing is a mere holding of the axe to the
grindstone; not a lifting of it up against thick trees。 Only he
won't be convinced till it comes to the helve。 I met him the other
day; he was looking as white as his surplice。 I took upon me to
read him a lecture on the holiness of holidays。 〃I can't leave my
poor;〃 he said。 〃Do you think God can't do without you?〃 I asked。
〃Is he so weak that he cannot spare the help of a weary man? But I
think he must prefer quality to quantity;