seraphita-第18节

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art　are　of　the　same　intellect　as　the　sculptor；　they　see　in　his　work

the　whole　universe　of　his　thought。　Such　persons　are　in　themselves　the

principles　of　art；　they　bear　within　them　a　mirror　which　reflects

nature　in　her　slightest　manifestations。　Well！　so　it　is　with　me；　I　have

within　me　a　mirror　before　which　the　moral　nature；　with　its　causes　and

effects；　appears　and　is　reflected。　Entering　thus　into　the

consciousness　of　others　I　am　able　to　divine　both　the　future　and　the

past。　How？　do　you　still　ask　how？　Imagine　that　the　marble　statue　is　the

body　of　a　man；　a　piece　of　statuary　in　which　we　see　the　emotion；

sentiment；　passion；　vice　or　crime；　virtue　or　repentance　which　the

creating　hand　has　put　into　it；　and　you　will　then　comprehend　how　it　is

that　I　read　the　soul　of　this　foreignerthough　what　I　have　said　does

not　explain　the　gift　of　Specialism；　for　to　conceive　the　nature　of　that

gift　we　must　possess　it。〃



Though　Wilfrid　belonged　to　the　two　first　divisions　of　humanity；　the

men　of　force　and　the　men　of　thought；　yet　his　excesses；　his　tumultuous

life；　and　his　misdeeds　had　often　turned　him　towards　Faith；　for　doubt

has　two　sides；　a　side　to　the　light　and　a　side　to　the　darkness。　Wilfrid

had　too　closely　clasped　the　world　under　its　forms　of　Matter　and　of

Mind　not　to　have　acquired　that　thirst　for　the　unknown；　that　longing　to

GO　BEYOND　which　lay　their　grasp　upon　the　men　who　know；　and　wish；　and

will。　But　neither　his　knowledge；　nor　his　actions；　nor　his　will；　had

found　direction。　He　had　fled　from　social　life　from　necessity；　as　a

great　criminal　seeks　the　cloister。　Remorse；　that　virtue　of　weak

beings；　did　not　touch　him。　Remorse　is　impotence；　impotence　which　sins

again。　Repentance　alone　is　powerful；　it　ends　all。　But　in　traversing

the　world；　which　he　made　his　cloister；　Wilfrid　had　found　no　balm　for

his　wounds；　he　saw　nothing　in　nature　to　which　he　could　attach　himself。

In　him；　despair　had　dried　the　sources　of　desire。　He　was　one　of　those

beings　who；　having　gone　through　all　passions　and　come　out　victorious；

have　nothing　more　to　raise　in　their　hot…beds；　and　who；　lacking

opportunity　to　put　themselves　at　the　head　of　their　fellow…men　to

trample　under　iron　heel　entire　populations；　buy；　at　the　price　of　a

horrible　martyrdom；　the　faculty　of　ruining　themselves　in　some　belief；

rocks　sublime；　which　await　the　touch　of　a　wand　that　comes　not　to

bring　the　waters　gushing　from　their　far…off　spring。



Led　by　a　scheme　of　his　restless；　inquiring　life　to　the　shores　of

Norway；　the　sudden　arrival　of　winter　had　detained　the　wanderer　at

Jarvis。　The　day　on　which；　for　the　first　time；　he　saw　Seraphita；　the

whole　past　of　his　life　faded　from　his　mind。　The　young　girl　excited

emotions　which　he　had　thought　could　never　be　revived。　The　ashes　gave

forth　a　lingering　flame　at　the　first　murmurings　of　that　voice。　Who　has

ever　felt　himself　return　to　youth　and　purity　after　growing　cold　and

numb　with　age　and　soiled　with　impurity？　Suddenly；　Wilfrid　loved　as　he

had　never　loved；　he　loved　secretly；　with　faith；　with　fear；　with　inward

madness。　His　life　was　stirred　to　the　very　source　of　his　being　at　the

mere　thought　of　seeing　Seraphita。　As　he　listened　to　her　he　was

transported　into　unknown　worlds；　he　was　mute　before　her；　she

magnetized　him。　There；　beneath　the　snows；　among　the　glaciers；　bloomed

the　celestial　flower　to　which　his　hopes；　so　long　betrayed；　aspired；

the　sight　of　which　awakened　ideas　of　freshness；　purity；　and　faith

which　grouped　about　his　soul　and　lifted　it　to　higher　regions；as

Angels　bear　to　heaven　the　Elect　in　those　symbolic　pictures　inspired　by

the　guardian　spirit　of　a　great　master。　Celestial　perfumes　softened　the

granite　hardness　of　the　rocky　scene；　light　endowed　with　speech　shed

its　divine　melodies　on　the　path　of　him　who　looked　to　heaven。　After

emptying　the　cup　of　terrestrial　love　which　his　teeth　had　bitten　as　he

drank　it；　he　saw　before　him　the　chalice　of　salvation　where　the　limpid

waters　sparkled；　making　thirsty　for　ineffable　delights　whoever　dare

apply　his　lips　burning　with　a　faith　so　strong　that　the　crystal　shall

not　be　shattered。



But　Wilfrid　now　encountered　the　wall　of　brass　for　which　he　had　been

seeking　up　and　down　the　earth。　He　went　impetuously　to　Seraphita；

meaning　to　express　the　whole　force　and　bearing　of　a　passion　under

which　he　bounded　like　the　fabled　horse　beneath　the　iron　horseman；　firm

in　his　saddle；　whom　nothing　moves　while　the　efforts　of　the　fiery

animal　only　made　the　rider　heavier　and　more　solid。　He　sought　her　to

relate　his　life；to　prove　the　grandeur　of　his　soul　by　the　grandeur　of

his　faults；　to　show　the　ruins　of　his　desert。　But　no　sooner　had　he

crossed　her　threshold；　and　found　himself　within　the　zone　of　those　eyes

of　scintillating　azure；　that　met　no　limits　forward　and　left　none

behind；　than　he　grew　calm　and　submissive；　as　a　lion；　springing　on　his

prey　in　the　plains　of　Africa；　receives　from　the　wings　of　the　wind　a

message　of　love；　and　stops　his　bound。　A　gulf　opened　before　him；　into

which　his　frenzied　words　fell　and　disappeared；　and　from　which　uprose　a

voice　which　changed　his　being；　he　became　as　a　child；　a　child　of

sixteen；　timid　and　frightened　before　this　maiden　with　serene　brow；

this　white　figure　whose　inalterable　calm　was　like　the　cruel

impassibility　of　human　justice。　The　combat　between　them　had　never

ceased　until　this　evening；　when　with　a　glance　she　brought　him　down；　as

a　falcon　making　his　dizzy　spirals　in　the　air　around　his　prey　causes　it

to　fall　stupefied　to　earth；　before　carrying　it　to　his　eyrie。



We　may　note　within　ourselves　many　a　long　struggle　the　end　of　which　is

one　of　our　own　actions；struggles　which　are；　as　it　were；　the　reverse

side　of　humanity。　This　reverse　side　belongs　to　God；　the　obverse　side

to　men。　More　than　once　Seraphita　had　proved　to　Wilfrid　that　she　knew

this　hidden　and　ever　varied　side；　which　is　to　the　majority　of　men　a

second　being。　Often　she　said　to　him　in　her　dove…like　voice：　〃Why　all

this　vehemence？〃　when　on　his　way　to　her　he　had　sworn　she　should　be

his。　Wilfrid　was；　however；　strong　enough　to　raise　the　cry　of　revolt　to

which　he　had　given　utterance　in　Monsieur　Becker's　study。　The　narrative

of　the　old　pastor　had　calmed　him。　Sceptical　and　derisive　as　he　was；　he

saw　belief　like　a　sidereal　brilliance　dawning　on　his　life。　He　asked

himself　if　Seraphita　were　not　an　exile　from　the　higher　spheres　seeking

the　homeward　way。　The　fanciful　deifications　of　all　ordinary　lovers　he

could　not　give　to　this　lily　of　Norway　in　whose　divinity　he　believed。

Why　lived　she　here　beside　this　fiord？　What　did　she？　Questions　that

received　no　answer　filled　his　mind。　Above　all；　what　was　about　to

happen　between　them？　What　fate　had　brought　him　there？　To　him；

Seraphita　was　the　motionless　marble；　light　nevertheless　as　a　vapor；

which　Minna　had　seen　that　day　poised　above　the　precipices　of　the

Falberg。　Could　she　thus　stand　on　the　edge　of　all　gulfs　without　danger；

without　a　tremor　of　the　arching　eyebrows；　or　a　quiver　of　the　light　of

the　eye？　If　his　love　was　to　be　without　hope；　it　was　not　without

curiosity。



From　the　moment　when　Wilfrid　suspected　the　ethereal　nature　of　the

enchantress　who　had　told　him　the　secrets　of　his　life　in　melodious

utterance；　he　had　longed　to　try　to　subject　her；　to　keep　her　to

himself；　to　tear　her　from　the　heaven　where；　perhaps；　she　was　awaited。

Earth　and　Humanity　seized　their　prey；　he　would　imitate　them。　His

pride；　the　only　sentiment　through　which　man　can　long　be　exalted；　would

make　him　happy　in　this　triumph　for　the　rest　of　his　life。　The　idea　sent

the　blood　boiling　through　his　veins；　and　his　heart　swelled。　If　he　did

not　succeed；　he　would　destroy　her；it　is　so　natural　to　destroy　that

which　we　cannot　possess；　to　deny　what　we　cannot　comprehend；　to　insult

that　which　we　envy。



On　the　morrow；　Wilfrid；　laden　with　ideas　which　the　extraordinary

events　of　the　previous　night　naturally　awakened　in　his　mind；　resolved

to　question　David；　and　went　to　find　him　on　the　pretext　of　asking　after

Seraphita's　health。　Though　Monsieur　Becker　spoke　of　the　old　servant　as

falling　into　dotage；　Wilfrid　relied　on　his　own　perspicacity　to

discover　scraps　of　truth　in　the　torrent　of　the　old　man's　rambling

talk。



David　had　the　immovable；　undecided；　physiognomy　of　an　octogenarian。

Under　his　white　hair　lay　a　forehead　lined　with　wrinkles　like　the　stone

courses　of　a　ruined　wall；　and　his　face　was　furrowed　like　the　bed　of　a

dried…up　torrent。　His　life　seemed　to　have　retreated　wholly　to　the

eyes；　where　light　still　shone；　though　its　gleams　were　obscured　by　a

mistiness　which　seemed　to　indicate　either　an　active　mental　alienation

or　the　stupid　stare　of　drunkenness。　His　slow　and　heavy　movements

betrayed　the　glacial　weight　of　age；　and　communicated　an　icy　influence

to　whoever　allowed　themselves　to　look　long　at　him；for　he　possessed

the　magnetic　force　of　torpor。　His　limited　intelligence　was　only　roused

by　the　sight；　the　hearing；　or　the　recollection　of　his　mistress。　She

was　the　soul　of　this　wholly　material　fragment　of　an　exist