robert falconer-第24节

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luiks　to　you　a'　wrang　may　be　a'　richt。　　But　it's　true　eneuch　'at　we

dinna　ken　a'thing；　an'　he's　no　deid　yetI　dinna　believe　'at　he

isand　he'll　maybe　win　in　yet。'



Here　her　voice　failed　her。　　And　Robert　had　nothing　to　say　now。　　He

had　said　all　his　say　before。



'Pray；　Robert；　pray　for　yer　father；　laddie；'　she　resumed；　'for　we

hae　muckle　rizzon　to　be　anxious　aboot　'im。　　Pray　while　there's　life

an'　houp。　　Gie　the　Lord　no　rist。　　Pray　till　'im　day　an'　nicht；　as　I

du；　that　he　wad　lead　'im　to　see　the　error　o'　his　ways；　an'　turn　to

the　Lord；　wha's　ready　to　pardon。　　Gin　yer　mother　had　lived；　I　wad

hae　had　mair　houp；　I　confess；　for　she　was　a　braw　leddy　and　a　bonny；

and　that　sweet…tongued！　　She　cud　hae　wiled　a　maukin　frae　its　lair

wi'　her　bonnie　Hielan'　speech。　　I　never　likit　to　hear　nane　o'　them

speyk　the　Erse　（Irish；　that　is；　Gaelic）；　it　was　aye　sae　gloggie　and

baneless；　and　I　cudna　unnerstan'　ae　word　o'　't。　　Nae　mair　cud　yer

fatherhoot！　yer　gran'father；　I　meanthough　his　father　cud　speyk

it　weel。　　But　to　hear　yer　mothermamma；　as　ye　used　to　ca'　her　aye；

efter　the　new　fashionto　hear　her　speyk　English；　that　was　sweet　to

the　ear；　for　the　braid　Scotch　she　kent　as　little　o'　as　I　do　o'　the

Erse。　It　was　hert's　care　aboot　him　that　shortent　her　days。　　And　a'

that'll　be　laid　upo'　him。　　He'll　hae　't　a'　to　beir　an'　accoont　for。

Och　hone！　　Och　hone！　　Eh！　　Robert；　my　man；　be　a　guid　lad；　an'　serve

the　Lord　wi'　a'　yer　hert；　an'　sowl；　an'　stren'th；　an'　min'；　for　gin

ye　gang　wrang；　yer　ain　father　'll　hae　to　beir　naebody　kens　hoo

muckle　o'　the　wyte　o'　't；　for　he's　dune　naething　to　bring　ye　up　i'

the　way　ye　suld　gang；　an'　haud　ye　oot　o'　the　ill　gait。　　For　the　sake

o'　yer　puir　father；　haud　ye　to　the　richt　road。　　It　may　spare　him　a

pang　or　twa　i'　the　ill　place。　　Eh；　gin　the　Lord　wad　only　tak　me；　and

lat　him　gang！'



Involuntarily　and　unconsciously　the　mother's　love　was　adopting　the

hope　which　she　had　denounced　in　her　grandson。　　And　Robert　saw　it；

but　he　was　never　the　man　when　I　knew　him　to　push　a　victory。　　He　said

nothing。　　Only　a　tear　or　two　at　the　memory　of　the　wayworn　man；　his

recollection　of　whose　visit　I　have　already　recorded；　rolled　down　his

cheeks。　　He　was　at　such　a　distance　from　him！such　an　impassable

gulf　yawned　between　them！that　was　the　grief！　　Not　the　gulf　of

death；　nor　the　gulf　that　divides　hell　from　heaven；　but　the　gulf　of

abjuration　by　the　good　because　of　his　evil　ways。　　His　grandmother；

herself　weeping　fast　and　silently；　with　scarce　altered　countenance；

took　her　neatly…folded　handkerchief　from　her　pocket；　and　wiped　her

grandson's　fresh　cheeks；　then　wiped　her　own　withered　face；　and　from

that　moment　Robert　knew　that　he　loved　her。



Then　followed　the　Sabbath…evening　prayer　that　she　always　offered

with　the　boy；　whichever　he　was；　who　kept　her　company。　　They　knelt

down　together；　side　by　side；　in　a　certain　corner　of　the　room；　the

same；　I　doubt　not；　in　which　she　knelt　at　her　private　devotions；

before　going　to　bed。　　There　she　uttered　a　long　extempore　prayer；

rapid　in　speech；　full　of　divinity　and　Scripture…phrases；　but　not　the

less　earnest　and　simple；　for　it　flowed　from　a　heart　of　faith。　　Then

Robert　had　to　pray　after　her；　loud　in　her　ear；　that　she　might　hear

him　thoroughly；　so　that　he　often　felt　as　if　he　were　praying　to　her；

and　not　to　God　at　all。



She　had　begun　to　teach　him　to　pray　so　early　that　the　custom　reached

beyond　the　confines　of　his　memory。　　At　first　he　had　had　to　repeat

the　words　after　her；　but　soon　she　made　him　construct　his　own

utterances；　now　and　then　giving　him　a　suggestion　in　the　form　of　a

petition　when　he　seemed　likely　to　break　down；　or　putting　a　phrase

into　what　she　considered　more　suitable　language。　　But　all　such

assistance　she　had　given　up　long　ago。



On　the　present　occasion；　after　she　had　ended　her　petitions　with

those　for　Jews　and　pagans；　and　especially　for　the　'Pop'　o'　Rom'；'　in

whom　with　a　rare　liberality　she　took　the　kindest　interest；　always

praying　God　to　give　him　a　good　wife；　though　she　knew　perfectly　well

the　marriage…creed　of　the　priesthood；　for　her　faith　in　the　hearer　of

prayer　scorned　every　theory　but　that　in　which　she　had　herself　been

born　and　bred；　she　turned　to　Robert　with　the　usual　'Noo；　Robert！'

and　Robert　began。　　But　after　he　had　gone　on　for　some　time　with　the

ordinary　phrases；　he　turned　all　at　once　into　a　new　track；　and

instead　of　praying　in　general　terms　for　'those　that　would　not　walk

in　the　right　way；'　said；



'O　Lord！　save　my　father；'　and　there　paused。



'If　it　be　thy　will；'　suggested　his　grandmother。



But　Robert　continued　silent。　　His　grandmother　repeated　the

subjunctive　clause。



'I'm　tryin'；　grandmother；'　said　Robert；　'but　I　canna　say　't。　　I

daurna　say　an　if　aboot　it。　　It　wad　be　like　giein'　in　till　's

damnation。　　We　maun　hae　him　saved；　grannie！'



'Laddie！　laddie！　haud　yer　tongue！'　said　Mrs。　Falconer；　in　a　tone　of

distressed　awe。　'O　Lord；　forgie　'im。　　He's　young　and　disna　ken

better　yet。　　He　canna　unnerstan'　thy　ways；　nor；　for　that　maitter；

can　I　preten'　to　unnerstan'　them　mysel'。　　But　thoo　art　a'　licht；　and

in　thee　is　no　darkness　at　all。　　And　thy　licht　comes　into　oor　blin'

een；　and　mak's　them　blinner　yet。　　But；　O　Lord；　gin　it　wad　please

thee　to　hear　oor　prayer。。。eh！　hoo　we　wad　praise　thee！　　And　my　Andrew

wad　praise　thee　mair　nor　ninety　and　nine　o'　them　'at　need　nae

repentance。'



A　long　pause　followed。　　And　then　the　only　words　that　would　come

were：　'For　Christ's　sake。　　Amen。'



When　she　said　that　God　was　light；　instead　of　concluding　therefrom

that　he　could　not　do　the　deeds　of　darkness；　she　was　driven；　from　a

faith　in　the　teaching　of　Jonathan　Edwards　as　implicit　as　that　of

'any　lay　papist　of　Loretto；'　to　doubt　whether　the　deeds　of　darkness

were　not　after　all　deeds　of　light；　or　at　least　to　conclude　that

their　character　depended　not　on　their　own　nature；　but　on　who　did

them。



They　rose　from　their　knees；　and　Mrs。　Falconer　sat　down　by　her　fire；

with　her　feet　on　her　little　wooden　stool；　and　began；　as　was　her　wont

in　that　household　twilight；　ere　the　lamp　was　lighted；　to　review　her

past　life；　and　follow　her　lost　son　through　all　conditions　and

circumstances　to　her　imaginable。　　And　when　the　world　to　come　arose

before　her；　clad　in　all　the　glories　which　her　fancy；　chilled　by

education　and　years；　could　supply；　it　was　but　to　vanish　in　the　gloom

of　the　remembrance　of　him　with　whom　she　dared　not　hope　to　share　its

blessedness。　　This　at　least　was　how　Falconer　afterwards　interpreted

the　sudden　changes　from　gladness　to　gloom　which　he　saw　at　such　times

on　her　countenance。



But　while　such　a　small　portion　of　the　universe　of　thought　was

enlightened　by　the　glowworm　lamp　of　the　theories　she　had　been

taught；　she　was　not　limited　for　light　to　that　feeble　source。　　While

she　walked　on　her　way；　the　moon；　unseen　herself　behind　the　clouds；

was　illuminating　the　whole　landscape　so　gently　and　evenly；　that　the

glowworm　being　the　only　visible　point　of　radiance；　to　it　she

attributed　all　the　light。　　But　she　felt　bound　to　go　on　believing　as

she　had　been　taught；　for　sometimes　the　most　original　mind　has　the

strongest　sense　of　law　upon　it；　and　will；　in　default　of　a　better；

obey　a　beggarly　oneonly　till　the　higher　law　that　swallows　it　up

manifests　itself。　　Obedience　was　as　essential　an　element　of　her

creed　as　of　that　of　any　purest…minded　monk；　neither　being

sufficiently　impressed　with　this：　that；　while　obedience　is　the　law

of　the　kingdom；　it　is　of　considerable　importance　that　that　which　is

obeyed　should　be　in　very　truth　the　will　of　God。　It　is　one　thing；　and

a　good　thing；　to　do　for　God's　sake　that　which　is　not　his　will：　it　is

another　thing；　and　altogether　a　better　thinghow　much　better；　no

words　can　tellto　do　for　God's　sake　that　which　is　his　will。　　Mrs。

Falconer's　submission　and　obedience　led　her　to　accept　as　the　will　of

God；　lest　she　should　be　guilty　of　opposition　to　him；　that　which　it

was　anything　but　giving　him　honour　to　accept　as　such。　　Therefore　her

love　to　God　was　too　like　the　love　of　the　slave　or　the　dog；　too

little　like　the　love　of　the　child；　with　whose　obedience　the　Father

cannot　be　satisfied　until　he　cares　for　his　reason　as　the　highest

form　of　his　will。　　True；　the　child　who　most　faithfully　desires　to

know　the　inward　will　or　reason　of　the　Father；　will　be　the　most　ready

to　obey　without　it；　only　for　this　obedience　it　is　essential　that　the

apparent　command　at　least　be　such　as　he　can　suppose　attributable　to

the　Father。　　Of　his　own　self　he　is　bound　to　judge　what　is　right；　as

the　Lord　said。　　Had　Abraham　doubted　whether　it　was　in　any　case　right

to　slay　his　son；　he　would　have　been　justified　in　doubting　whether

God　really　required　it　of　him；　and　would　have　been　bound　to　delay

action　until　the　arrival　of　more　light。　　True；　the　will　of　God　can

never　be　other　than　good；　but　I　doubt　if　any　man　can　ever　be　sure

that　a　thing　is　the　will　of　God；　save　by　seeing　into　its　nature　and

character；　and　beholding　its　goodness。　　Whateve