robert falconer-第127节
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whence all the sweet visitings of the grace of God are withdrawn;
and the man has not a chance; so to speak; of growing better。 In
this hell of theirs they will even pamper his beastly body。'
'They have the chaplain to visit them。'
'I pity the chaplain; cut off in his labours from all the aids which
God's world alone can give for the teaching of these men。 Human
beings have not the right to inflict such cruel punishment upon
their fellow…man。 It springs from a cowardly shrinking from
responsibility; and from mistrust of the mercy of God;perhaps
first of all from an over…valuing of the mere life of the body。
Hanging is tenderness itself to such a punishment。'
'I think you are hardly fair; though; Falconer。 It is the fear of
sending them to hell that prevents them from hanging them。'
'Yes。 You are right; I dare say。 They are not of David's mind; who
would rather fall into the hands of God than of men。 They think
their hell is not so hard as his; and may be better for them。 But I
must not; as you say; forget that they do believe their everlasting
fate hangs upon their hands; for if God once gets his hold of them
by death; they are lost for ever。'
'But the chaplain may awake them to a sense of their sins。'
'I do not think it is likely that talk will do what the discipline
of life has not done。 It seems to me; on the contrary; that the
clergyman has no commission to rouse people to a sense of their
sins。 That is not his work。 He is far more likely to harden them
by any attempt in that direction。 Every man does feel his sins;
though he often does not know it。 To turn his attention away from
what he does feel by trying to rouse in him feelings which are
impossible to him in his present condition; is to do him a great
wrong。 The clergyman has the message of salvation; not of sin; to
give。 Whatever oppression is on a man; whatever trouble; whatever
conscious something that comes between him and the blessedness of
life; is his sin; for whatever is not of faith is sin; and from all
this He came to save us。 Salvation alone can rouse in us a sense of
our sinfulness。 One must have got on a good way before he can be
sorry for his sins。 There is no condition of sorrow laid down as
necessary to forgiveness。 Repentance does not mean sorrow: it means
turning away from the sins。 Every man can do that; more or less。
And that every man must do。 The sorrow will come afterwards; all
in good time。 Jesus offers to take us out of our own hands into
his; if we will only obey him。'
The eyes of the old man were fixed on his son as he spoke; He did
seem to be thinking。 I could almost fancy that a glimmer of
something like hope shone in his eyes。
It was time to go home; and we were nearly silent all the way。
The next morning was so wet that we could not go out; and had to
amuse ourselves as we best might in…doors。 But Falconer's resources
never failed。 He gave us this day story after story about the poor
people he had known。 I could see that his object was often to get
some truth into his father's mind without exposing it to rejection
by addressing it directly to himself; and few subjects could be more
fitted for affording such opportunity than his experiences among the
poor。
The afternoon was still rainy and misty。 In the evening I sought to
lead the conversation towards the gospel…story; and then Falconer
talked as I never heard him talk before。 No little circumstance in
the narratives appeared to have escaped him。 He had thought about
everything; as it seemed to me。 He had looked under the surface
everywhere; and found truthmines of itunder all the upper soil
of the story。 The deeper he dug the richer seemed the ore。 This
was combined with the most pictorial apprehension of every outward
event; which he treated as if it had been described to him by the
lips of an eye…witness。 The whole thing lived in his words and
thoughts。
'When anything looks strange; you must look the deeper;' he would
say。
At the close of one of our fits of talk; he rose and went to the
window。
'Come here;' he said; after looking for a moment。
All day a dropping cloud had filled the space below; so that the
hills on the opposite side of the valley were hidden; and the whole
of the sea; near as it was。 But when we went to the window we found
that a great change had silently taken place。 The mist continued to
veil the sky; and it clung to the tops of the hills; but; like the
rising curtain of a stage; it had rolled half…way up from their
bases; revealing a great part of the sea and shore; and half of a
cliff on the opposite side of the valley: this; in itself of a deep
red; was now smitten by the rays of the setting sun; and glowed over
the waters a splendour of carmine。 As we gazed; the vaporous
curtain sank upon the shore; and the sun sank under the waves; and
the sad gray evening closed in the weeping night; and clouds and
darkness swathed the weary earth。 For doubtless the earth needs its
night as well as the creatures that live thereon。
In the morning the rain had ceased; but the clouds remained。 But
they were high in the heavens now; and; like a departing sorrow;
revealed the outline and form which had appeared before as an
enveloping vapour of universal and shapeless evil。 The mist was now
far enough off to be seen and thought about。 It was clouds nowno
longer mist and rain。 And I thought how at length the evils of the
world would float away; and we should see what it was that made it
so hard for us to believe and be at peace。
In the afternoon the sky had partially cleared; but clouds hid the
sun as he sank towards the west。 We walked out。 A cold autumnal
wind blew; not only from the twilight of the dying day; but from the
twilight of the dying season。 A sorrowful hopeless wind it seemed;
full of the odours of dead leavesthose memories of green woods;
and of damp earththe bare graves of the flowers。 Would the summer
ever come again?
We were pacing in silence along a terraced walk which overhung the
shore far below。 More here than from the hilltop we seemed to look
immediately into space; not even a parapet intervening betwixt us
and the ocean。 The sound of a mournful lyric; never yet sung; was
in my brain; it drew nearer to my mental grasp; but ere it alighted;
its wings were gone; and it fell dead on my consciousness。 Its
meaning was this: 'Welcome; Requiem of Nature。 Let me share in thy
Requiescat。 Blow; wind of mournful memories。 Let us moan together。
No one taketh from us the joy of our sorrow。 We may mourn as we
will。'
But while I brooded thus; behold a wonder! The mass about the
sinking sun broke up; and drifted away in cloudy bergs; as if
scattered on the diverging currents of solar radiance that burst
from the gates of the west; and streamed east and north and south
over the heavens and over the sea。 To the north; these masses built
a cloudy bridge across the sky from horizon to horizon; and beneath
it shone the rosy…sailed ships floating stately through their
triumphal arch up the channel to their home。 Other clouds floated
stately too in the upper sea over our heads; with dense forms;
thinning into vaporous edges。 Some were of a dull angry red; some
of as exquisite a primrose hue as ever the flower itself bore on its
bosom; and betwixt their edges beamed out the sweetest; purest; most
melting; most transparent blue; the heavenly blue which is the
symbol of the spirit as red is of the heart。 I think I never saw a
blue to satisfy me before。 Some of these clouds threw shadows of
many…shaded purple upon the green sea; and from one of the shadows;
so dark and so far out upon the glooming horizon that it looked like
an island; arose as from a pier; a wondrous structure of dim; fairy
colours; a multitude of rainbow…ends; side by side; that would have
spanned the heavens with a gorgeous arch; but failed from the very
grandeur of the idea; and grew up only a few degrees against the
clouded west。 I stood rapt。 The two Falconers were at some
distance before me; walking arm in arm。 They stood and gazed
likewise。 It was as if God had said to the heavens and the earth
and the chord of the seven colours; 'Comfort ye; comfort ye my
people。' And I said to my soul; 'Let the tempest rave in the world;
let sorrow wail like a sea…bird in the midst thereof; and let thy
heart respond to her shivering cry; but the vault of heaven encloses
the tempest and the shrieking bird and the echoing heart; and the
sun of God's countenance can with one glance from above change the
wildest winter day into a summer evening compact of poets' dreams。'
My companions were walking up over the hill。 I could see that
Falconer was earnestly speaking in his father's ear。 The old man's
head was bent towards the earth。 I kept away。 They made a turn
from home。 I still follo