father and son-第23节

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！


red　point　waxing　and　waning；　and　it　bore；　or　to　be　exact　it　consisted　of　the　letters　of　the　word　CARMINE。

This　agitating　vision　recurred　night　after　night；　and　filled　me　with　inexpressible　distress。　The　details　of　it　altered　very　little；　and　I　knew　what　I　had　to　expect　when　I　crept　into　bed。　I　knew　that　for　a　few　minutes　I　should　be　battling　with　the　chill　of　the　linen　sheets；　and　trying　to　keep　awake；　but　that　then；　without　a　pause；　I　should　slip　into　that　terrible　realm　of　storm　and　stress　in　which　I　was　bound　hand　and　foot；　and　sent　galloping　through　infinity。　Often　have　I　wakened；　with　unutterable　joy；　to　find　my　Father　and　Miss　Marks；　whom　my　screams　had　disturbed；　standing　one　on　each　side　of　my　bed。　They　could　release　me　from　my　nightmare；　which　seldom　assailed　me　twice　a　night　but　how　to　preserve　me　from　its　original　attack　passed　their　understanding。　My　Father；　in　his　tenderness；　thought　to　exorcize　the　demon　by　prayer。　He　would　appear　in　the　bedroom；　just　as　I　was　first　slipping　into　bed；　and　he　would　kneel　at　my　side。　The　light　from　a　candle　on　the　mantel…shelf　streamed　down　upon　his　dark　head　of　hair　while　his　face　was　buried　in　the　coverlid；　from　which　a　loud　voice　came　up；　a　little　muffled；　begging　that　I　might　be　preserved　against　all　the　evil　spirits　that　walk　in　darkness　and　that　the　deep　might　not　swallow　me　up。

This　little　ceremony　gave　a　distraction　to　my　thoughts；　and　may　have　been　useful　in　that　way。　But　it　led　to　an　unfortunate　circumstance。　My　Father　began　to　enjoy　these　orisons　at　my　bedside；　and　to　prolong　them。　Perhaps　they　lasted　a　little　too　long；　but　I　contrived　to　keep　awake　through　them；　sometimes　by　a　great　effort。　On　one　unhappy　night；　however；　I　gave　even　worse　offense　than　slumber　would　have　given。　My　Father　was　praying　aloud；　in　the　attitude　I　have　described；　and　I　was　half　sitting；　half　lying　in　bed；　with　the　clothes　sloping　from　my　chin。　Suddenly　a　rather　large　insect　dark　and　flat；　with　more　legs　than　a　self…respecting　insect　ought　to　need　appeared　at　the　bottom　of　the　counterpane；　and　slowly　advanced。　I　think　it　was　nothing　worse　than　a　beetle。　It　walked　successfully　past　my　Father's　sleek　black　ball　of　a　head；　and　climbed　straight　up　at　me；　nearer；　nearer；　until　it　seemed　all　a　twinkle　of　horns　and　joints。　I　bore　it　in　silent　fascination　until　it　almost　tickled　my　chin；　and　then　I　screamed　'Papa！　Papa！'　My　Father　rose　in　great　dudgeon；　removed　the　insect　（what　were　insects　to　him！）　and　then　gave　me　a　tremendous　lecture。

The　sense　of　desperation　which　this　incident　produced　I　shall　not　easily　forget。　Life　seemed　really　to　be　very　harassing　when　to　visions　within　and　beetles　without　there　was　joined　the　consciousness　of　having　grievously　offended　God　by　an　act　of　disrespect。　It　is　difficult　for　me　to　justify　to　myself　the　violent　jobation　which　my　Father　gave　me　in　consequence　of　my　scream；　except　by　attributing　to　him　something　of　the　human　weakness　of　vanity。　I　cannot　help　thinking　that　he　liked　to　hear　himself　speak　to　God　in　the　presence　of　an　admiring　listener。　He　prayed　with　fervour　and　animation；　in　pure　Johnsonian　English；　and　I　hope　I　am　not　undutiful　if　I　add　my　impression　that　he　was　not　displeased　with　the　sound　of　his　own　devotions。　My　cry　for　help　had　needlessly；　as　he　thought；　broken　in　upon　this　holy　and　seemly　performance。　'You；　the　child　of　a　naturalist；'　he　remarked　in　awesome　tones；　'you　to　pretend　to　feel　terror　at　the　advance　of　an　insect？'　It　could　but　be　a　pretext；　he　declared；　for　avoiding　the　testimony　of　faith　in　prayer。　'If　your　heart　were　fixed；　if　it　panted　after　the　Lord；　it　would　take　more　than　the　movements　of　a　beetle　to　make　you　disturb　oral　supplication　at　His　footstool。　Beware！　for　God　is　a　jealous　God　and　He　consumes　them　in　wrath　who　make　a　noise　like　a　dog。'

My　Father　took　at　all　times　a　singular　pleasure　in　repeating　that　'our　God　is　a　jealous　God'。　He　liked　the　word；　which　I　suppose　he　used　in　an　antiquated　sense。　He　was　accustomed　to　tell　the　'saints'　at　the　Room；in　a　very　genial　manner；　and　smiling　at　them　as　he　said　it；'I　am　jealous　over　you；　my　beloved　brothers　and　sisters；　with　a　godly　jealousy。'　I　know　that　this　was　interpreted　by　some　of　the　saints；for　I　heard　Mary　Grace　say　so　to　Miss　Marksas　meaning　that　my　Father　was　resentful　because　some　of　them　attended　the　service　at　the　Wesleyan　chapel　on　Thursday　evenings。　But　my　Father　was　utterly　incapable　of　such　littleness　as　this；　and　when　he　talked　of　'jealousy'　he　meant　a　lofty　solicitude；　a　careful　watchfulness。　He　meant　that　their　spiritual　honour　was　a　matter　of　anxiety　to　him。　No　doubt　when　he　used　to　tell　me　to　remember　that　our　God　is　a　jealous　God；　he　meant　that　my　sins　and　shortcomings　were　not　matters　of　indifference　to　the　Divine　Being。　But　I　think；　looking　back；　that　it　was　very　extraordinary　for　a　man；　so　instructed　and　so　intelligent　as　he；　to　dwell　so　much　on　the　possible　anger　of　the　Lord；　rather　than　on　his　pity　and　love。　The　theory　of　extreme　Puritanism　can　surely　offer　no　quainter　example　of　its　fallacy　than　this　idea　that　the　omnipotent　Jehovahcould　be　seriously　offended；　and　could　stoop　to　revenge；　because　a　little；　nervous　child　of　nine　had　disturbed　a　prayer　by　being　frightened　at　a　beetle。

The　fact　that　the　word　'Carmine'　appeared　as　the　goal　of　my　visionary　pursuits　is　not　so　inexplicable　as　it　may　seem。　My　Father　was　at　this　time　producing　numerous　water…colour　drawings　of　minute　and　even　of　microscopic　forms　of　life。　These　he　executed　in　the　manner　of　miniature；　with　an　amazing　fidelity　of　form　and　with　a　brilliancy　of　colour　which　remains　unfaded　after　fifty　years。　By　far　the　most　costly　of　his　pigments　was　the　intense　crimson　which　is　manufactured　out　of　the　very　spirit　and；　essence　of　cochineal。　I　had　lately　become　a　fervent　imitator　of　his　works　of　art；　and　I　was　allowed　to　use　all　of　his　colours；　except　one；　I　was　strictly　forbidden　to　let　a　hair　of　my　paint…　brush　touch　the　little　broken　mass　of　carmine　which　was　all　that　he　possessed。　We　believed；　but　I　do　not　know　whether　this　could　be　the　fact；　that　carmine　of　this　superlative　quality　was　sold　at　a　guinea　a　cake。　'Carmine'；　therefore；　became　my　shibboleth　of　self…indulgence；　it　was　a　symbol　of　all　that　taste　and　art　and　wealth　could　combine　to　produce。　I　imagined；　for　instance；　that　at　Belshazzar's　feast；　the　loftiest　epergne　of　gold；　surrounded　by　flowers　and　jewels；　carried　the　monarch's　proudest　possession；　a　cake　of　carmine。　I　knew　of　no　object　in　the　world　of　luxury　more　desirable　than　this；　and　its　obsession　in　my　waking　hours　is　quite　enough；　I　think；　to　account　for　'carmine'　having　been　the　torment　of　my　dreams。

The　little　incident　of　the　beetle　displays　my　Father's　mood　at　this　period　in　its　worst　light。　His　severity　was　not　very　creditable；　perhaps；　to　his　good　sense；　but　without　a　word　of　explanation　it　may　seem　even　more　unreasonable　than　it　was。　My　Father　might　have　been　less　stern　to　my　lapses　from　high　conduct；　and　my　own　mind　at　the　same　time　less　armoured　against　his　arrows；　if　our　relations　had　been　those　which　exist　in　an　ordinary　religious　family。　He　would　have　been　more　indulgent；　and　my　own　affections　might　nevertheless　have　been　more　easily　alienated；　if　I　had　been　treated　by　him　as　a　commonplace　child；　standing　as　yet　outside　the　pale　of　conscious　Christianity。　But　he　had　formed　the　idea；　and　cultivated　it　assiduously；　that　I　was　an　ame　d'elite；　a　being　to　whom　the　mysteries　of　salvation　had　been　divinely　revealed　and　by　whom　they　had　been　accepted。　I　was；　to　his　partial　fancy；　one　in　whom　the　Holy　Ghost　had　already　performed　a　real　and　permanent　work。　Hence；　I　was　inside　the　pale；　I　had　attained　that　inner　position　which　divided；　as　we　used　to　say；　the　Sheep　from　the　Goats。　Another　little　boy　might　be　very　well…behaved；　but　if　he　had　not　consciously　'laid　hold　on　Christ'；　his　good　deeds；　so　far；　were　absolutely　useless。　Whereas　I　might　be　a　very　naughty　boy；　and　require　much　chastisement　from　God　and　man；　but　nothingso　my　Father　thoughtcould　invalidate　my　election；　and　sooner　or　later；　perhaps　even　after　many　stripes；　I　must　inevitably　be　brought　back　to　a　state　of　grace。

The　paradox　between　this　unquestionable　sanctification　by　faith　and　my　equally　unquestionable　naughtiness；　occupied　my　Father　greatly　at　this　time。　He　made　it　a　frequent　subject　of　intercession　at　family　prayers；　not　caring　to　hide　from　the　servants　misdemeanours　of　mine；　which　he　spread　out　with　a　melancholy　unction　before　the　Lord。　He　cultivated　the　belief　that　all　my　little　ailments；　all　my　aches　and　pains；　were　sent　to　correct　my　faults。　He　carried　this　persuasion　very　far；　even　putting　this　exhortation　before；　instead　of　after；　an　instant　relief　of　my　sufferings。　If　I　burned　my　finger　with　a　sulphur　match；　or　pinched　the　end　of　my　nose　in　the　door　（to　mention　but　two　sorrows　that　recur　to　my　memory）；　my　Father　would　solemnly　ejaculate：　'　Oh　may　these　afflictions　be　much　sanctified　to　him！'　before　offering　any　remedy　for　my　pain。　So　that　I　almost　longed；　under　the　pressure　of　these　pangs；　to　be　a　godless　child；　who　had　never　known　the　privileges　of　saving　grace；　since　I　argued　that　such　a　child　would　be　subjected　to　none　of　the　sufferings　which　seemed　to　assail　my　path。

What　the　ideas　or　conduct　of