太子爷小说网 > 英语电子书 > robert falconer >

第89节

robert falconer-第89节

小说: robert falconer 字数: 每页4000字

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页,按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页,按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部!
————未阅读完?加入书签已便下次继续阅读!




and the hearing of his ears was so much informed by his highest

feelings。  He regarded all human affairs from the heights of

religion; as from their church…spires he looked down on the red

roofs of Antwerp; on the black roofs of Cologne; on the gray roofs

of Strasburg; or on the brown roofs of Baseluplifted for the time

above them; not in dissociation from them。



On the base of the missing twin…spire at Strasburg; high over the

roof of the church; stands a little cottagehow strange its white

muslin window…curtains look up there!  To the day of his death he

cherished the fancy of writing a book in that cottage; with the

grand city to which London looks a modern mushroom; its thousand

roofs with row upon row of windows in themoften five garret

stories; one above the other; and its thickets of multiform

chimneys; the thrones and procreant cradles of the storks;

marvellous in history; habit; and dignityall below him。



He was taken ill at Valence and lay there for a fortnight; oppressed

with some kind of low fever。  One night he awoke from a refreshing

sleep; but could not sleep again。  It seemed to him afterwards as if

he had lain waiting for something。  Anyhow something came。  As it

were a faint musical rain had invaded his hearing; but the night was

clear; for the moon was shining on his window…blind。  The sound came

nearer; and revealed itself a delicate tinkling of bells。  It drew

nearer still and nearer; growing in sweet fulness as it came; till

at length a slow torrent of tinklings went past his window in the

street below。  It was the flow of a thousand little currents of

sound; a gliding of silvery threads; like the talking of

water…ripples against the side of a barge in a slow canalall as

soft as the moonlight; as exquisite as an odour; each sound tenderly

truncated and dull。  A great multitude of sheep was shifting its

quarters in the night; whence and whither and why he never knew。  To

his heart they were the messengers of the Most High。 For into that

heart; soothed and attuned by their thin harmony; not on the wind

that floated without breaking their lovely message; but on the

ripples of the wind that bloweth where it listeth; came the words;

unlooked for; their coming unheralded by any mental premonition; 'My

peace I give unto you。'  The sounds died slowly away in the

distance; fainting out of the air; even as they had grown upon it;

but the words remained。



In a few moments he was fast asleep; comforted by pleasure into

repose; his dreams were of gentle self…consoling griefs; and when he

awoke in the morning'My peace I give unto you;' was the first

thought of which he was conscious。  It may be that the sound of the

sheep…bells made him think of the shepherds that watched their

flocks by night; and they of the multitude of the heavenly host; and

they of the song'On earth peace': I do not know。  The important

point is not how the words came; but that the words

remainedremained until he understood them; and they became to him

spirit and life。



He soon recovered strength sufficiently to set out again upon his

travels; great part of which he performed on foot。  In this way he

reached Avignon。  Passing from one of its narrow streets into an

open place in the midst; all at once he beheld; towering above him;

on a height that overlooked the whole city and surrounding country;

a great crucifix。  The form of the Lord of Life still hung in the

face of heaven and earth。  He bowed his head involuntarily。  No

matter that when he drew nearer the power of it vanished。  The

memory of it remained with its first impression; and it had a share

in what followed。



He made his way eastward towards the Alps。 As he walked one day

about noon over a desolate heath…covered height; reminding him not a

little of the country of his childhood; the silence seized upon him。

In the midst of the silence arose the crucifix; and once more the

words which had often returned upon him sounded in the ears of the

inner hearing; 'My peace I give unto you。'  They were words he had

known from the earliest memorial time。  He had heard them in

infancy; in childhood; in boyhood; in youth: now first in manhood it

flashed upon him that the Lord did really mean that the peace of his

soul should be the peace of their souls; that the peace wherewith

his own soul was quiet; the peace at the very heart of the universe;

was henceforth theirsopen to them; to all the world; to enter and

be still。  He fell upon his knees; bowed down in the birth of a

great hope; held up his hands towards heaven; and cried; 'Lord

Christ; give me thy peace。'



He said no more; but rose; caught up his stick; and strode forward;

thinking。



He had learned what the sentence meant; what that was of which it

spoke he had not yet learned。  The peace he had once sought; the

peace that lay in the smiles and tenderness of a woman; had

'overcome him like a summer cloud;' and had passed away。  There was

surely a deeper; a wider; a grander peace for him than that; if

indeed it was the same peace wherewith the king of men regarded his

approaching end; that he had left as a heritage to his brothers。

Suddenly he was aware that the earth had begun to live again。  The

hum of insects arose from the heath around him; the odour of its

flowers entered his dulled sense; the wind kissed him on the

forehead; the sky domed up over his head; and the clouds veiled the

distant mountain tops like the smoke of incense ascending from the

altars of the worshipping earth。  All Nature began to minister to

one who had begun to lift his head from the baptism of fire。  He had

thought that Nature could never more be anything to him; and she was

waiting on him like a mother。  The next moment he was offended with

himself for receiving ministrations the reaction of whose loveliness

might no longer gather around the form of Mary St。 John。 Every

wavelet of scent; every toss of a flower's head in the breeze; came

with a sting in its pleasurefor there was no woman to whom they

belonged。  Yet he could not shut them out; for God and not woman is

the heart of the universe。  Would the day ever come when the

loveliness of Mary St。 John; felt and acknowledged as never before;

would be even to him a joy and a thanksgiving?  If ever; then

because God is the heart of all。



I do not think this mood; wherein all forms of beauty sped to his

soul as to their own needful centre; could have lasted over many

miles of his journey。  But such delicate inward revelations are none

the less precious that they are evanescent。  Many feelings are

simply too good to lastusing the phrase not in the unbelieving

sense in which it is generally used; expressing the conviction that

God is a hard father; fond of disappointing his children; but to

express the fact that intensity and endurance cannot yet coexist in

the human economy。  But the virtue of a mood depends by no means on

its immediate presence。  Like any other experience; it may be

believed in; and; in the absence which leaves the mind free to

contemplate it; work even more good than in its presence。



At length he came in sight of the Alpine regions。  Far off; the

heads of the great mountains rose into the upper countries of cloud;

where the snows settled on their stony heads; and the torrents ran

out from beneath the frozen mass to gladden the earth below with the

faith of the lonely hills。  The mighty creatures lay like grotesque

animals of a far…off titanic time; whose dead bodies had been first

withered into stone; then worn away by the storms; and covered with

shrouds and palls of snow; till the outlines of their forms were

gone; and only rough shapes remained like those just blocked out in

the sculptor's marble; vaguely suggesting what the creatures had

been; as the corpse under the sheet of death is like a man。  He came

amongst the valleys at their feet; with their blue…green waters

hurrying seawardsfrom stony heights of air into the mass of 'the

restless wavy plain'; with their sides of rock rising in gigantic

terrace after terrace up to the heavens; with their scaling pines;

erect and slight; cone…head aspiring above cone…head; ambitious to

clothe the bare mass with green; till failing at length in their

upward efforts; the savage rock shot away and beyond and above them;

the white and blue glaciers clinging cold and cruel to their ragged

sides; and the dead blank of whiteness covering their final despair。

He drew near to the lower glaciers; to find their awful abysses

tremulous with liquid blue; a blue tender and profound as if fed

from the reservoir of some hidden sky intenser than ours; he

rejoiced over the velvety fields dotted with the toy…like houses of

the mountaineers; he sat for hours listening by the side of their

streams; he grew weary; felt oppressed; longed for a wider outlook;

and began to climb towards a mountain village of which he had heard

from a traveller; to fi

返回目录 上一页 下一页 回到顶部 0 0

你可能喜欢的