father and son-第45节

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ercised　with　the　expectation　of　the　immediate　coming　of　the　Lord；　who；　as　my　Father　and　those　who　thought　with　him　believed；　would　suddenly　appear；　without　the　least　warning；　and　would　catch　up　to　be　with　Him　in　everlasting　glory　all　whom　acceptance　of　the　Atonement　had　sealed　for　immortality。　These　were；　on　the　whole；　not　numerous；　and　our　belief　was　that　the　world；　after　a　few　days'　amazement　at　the　total　disappearance　of　these　persons；　would　revert　to　its　customary　habits　of　life；　merely　sinking　more　rapidly　into　a　moral　corruption　due　to　the　removal　of　these　souls　of　salt。　This　event　an　examination　of　prophecy　had　led　my　Father　to　regard　as　absolutely　imminent；　and　sometimes；　when　we　parted　for　the　night；　he　would　say　with　a　sparkling　rapture　in　his　eyes；　'Who　knows？　We　may　meet　next　in　the　air；　with　all　the　cohorts　of　God's　saints！'

This　conviction　I　shared；　without　a　doubt；　and；　indeed；in　perfect　innocency；　I　hope；　but　perhaps　with　a　touch　of　slyness　too；I　proposed　at　the　end　of　the　summer　holidays　that　I　should　stay　at　home。　'What　is　the　use　of　my　going　to　school？　Let　me　be　with　you　when　we　rise　to　meet　the　Lord　in　the　air！'　To　this　my　Father　sharply　and　firmly　replied　that　it　was　our　duty　to　carry　on　our　usual　avocations　to　the　last；　for　we　knew　not　the　moment　of　His　coming；　and　we　should　be　together　in　an　instant　on　that　day；　how　far　soever　we　might　be　parted　upon　earth。　I　was　ashamed；　but　his　argument　was　logical；　and；　as　it　proved；　judicious。　My　Father　lived　for　nearly　a　quarter　of　a　century　more；　never　losing　the　hope　of　'not　tasting　death'；　and　as　the　last　moments　of　mortality　approached；　he　was　bitterly　disappointed　at　what　he　held　to　be　a　scanty　reward　of　his　long　faith　and　patience。　But　if　my　own　life's　work　had　been；　as　I　proposed；　shelved　in　expectation　of　the　Lord's　imminent　advent；　I　should　have　cumbered　the　ground　until　this　day。

To　school；　therefore；　I　returned　with　a　brain　full　of　strange　discords；　in　a　huddled　mixture　of'　Endymion'　and　the　Book　of　Revelation；　John　Wesley's　hymns　and　'Midsummer　Night's　Dream'。　Few　boys　of　my　age；　I　suppose；　carried　about　with　them　such　a　confused　throng　of　immature　impressions　and　contradictory　hopes。　I　was　at　one　moment　devoutly　pious；　at　the　next　haunted　by　visions　of　material　beauty　and　longing　for　sensuous　impressions。　In　my　hot　and　silly　brain；　Jesus　and　Pan　held　sway　together；　as　in　a　wayside　chapel　discordantly　and　impishly　consecrated　to　Pagan　and　to　Christian　rites。　But　for　the　present；　as　in　the　great　chorus　which　so　marvellously　portrays　our　double　nature；　'the　folding…star　of　Bethlehem'　was　still　dominant。　I　became　more　and　more　pietistic。　Beginning　now　to　versify；　I　wrote　a　tragedy　in　pale　imitation　of　Shakespeare；　but　on　a　Biblical　and　evangelistic　subject；　and　odes　that　were　parodies　of　those　in　'Prometheus　Unbound'；　but　dealt　with　the　approaching　advent　of　our　Lord　and　the　rapture　of　His　saints。　My　unwholesome　excitement；　bubbling　up　in　this　violent　way；　reached　at　last　a　climax　and　foamed　over。

It　was　a　summer　afternoon；　and；　being　now　left　very　free　in　my　movements；　I　had　escaped　from　going　out　with　the　rest　of　my　school…fellows　in　their　formal　walk　in　charge　of　an　usher。　I　had　been　reading　a　good　deal　of　poetry；　but　my　heart　had　translated　Apollo　and　Bacchus　into　terms　of　exalted　Christian　faith。　I　was　alone；　and　I　lay　on　a　sofa；　drawn　across　a　large　open　window　at　the　top　of　the　school…house；　in　a　room　which　was　used　as　a　study　by　the　boys　who　were　'going　up　for　examination'。　I　gazed　down　on　a　labyrinth　of　garden　sloping　to　the　sea；　which　twinkled　faintly　beyond　the　towers　of　the　town。　Each　of　these　gardens　held　a　villa　in　it；　but　all　the　near　landscape　below　me　was　drowned　in　foliage。　A　wonderful　warm　light　of　approaching　sunset　modelled　the　shadows　and　set　the　broad　summits　of　the　trees　in　a　rich　glow。　There　was　an　absolute　silence　below　and　around　me；　a　magic　of　suspense　seemed　to　keep　every　topmost　twig　from　waving。

Over　my　soul　there　swept　an　immense　wave　of　emotion。　Now；　surely；　now　the　great　final　change　must　be　approaching。　I　gazed　up　into　the　tenderly…coloured　sky；　and　I　broke　irresistibly　into　speech。　'Come　now；　Lord　Jesus；'　I　cried；　'come　now　and　take　me　to　be　for　ever　with　Thee　in　Thy　Paradise。　I　am　ready　to　come。　My　heart　is　purged　from　sin；　there　is　nothing　that　keeps　me　rooted　to　this　wicked　world。　Oh；　come　now；　now；　and　take　me　before　I　have　known　the　temptations　of　life；　before　I　have　to　go　to　London　and　all　the　dreadful　things　that　happen　there！'　And　I　raised　myself　on　the　sofa；　and　leaned　upon　the　window…sill；　and　waited　for　the　glorious　apparition。

This　was　the　highest　moment　of　my　religious　life；　the　apex　of　my　striving　after　holiness。　I　waited　awhile；　watching；　and　then　I　felt　a　faint　shame　at　the　theatrical　attitude　I　had　adopted；　although　I　was　alone。　Still　I　gazed　and　still　I　hoped。　Then　a　little　breeze　sprang　up　and　the　branches　danced。　Sounds　began　to　rise　from　the　road　beneath　me。　Presently　the　colour　deepened；　the　evening　came　on。　From　far　below　there　rose　to　me　the　chatter　of　the　boys　returning　home。　The　teabell　rang；last　word　of　prose　to　shatter　my　mystical　poetry。　'The　Lord　has　not　come；　the　Lord　will　never　come；'　I　muttered；　and　in　my　heart　the　artificial　edifice　of　extravagant　faith　began　to　totter　and　crumble。　From　that　moment　forth　my　Father　and　I；　though　the　fact　was　long　successfully　concealed　from　him　and　even　from　myself；　walked　in　opposite　hemispheres　of　the　soul；　with　'the　thick　o'　the　world　between　us'。

EPILOGUE

THIS　narrative；　however；　must　not　be　allowed　to　close　with　the　Son　in　the　foreground　of　the　piece。　If　it　has　a　value；　that　value　consists　in　what　light　it　may　contrive　to　throw　upon　the　unique　and　noble　figure　of　the　Father。　With　the　advance　of　years；　the　characteristics　of　this　figure　became　more　severely　outlined；　more　rigorously　confined　within　settled　limits。　In　relation　to　the　Sonwho　presently　departed；　at　a　very　immature　age；　for　the　new　life　in　Londonthe　attitude　of　the　Father　continued　to　be　one　of　extreme　solicitude；　deepening　by　degrees　into　disappointment　and　disenchantment。　He　abated　no　jot　or　tittle　of　his　demands　upon　human　frailty。　He　kept　the　spiritual　cord　drawn　tight；　the　Biblical　bearingrein　was　incessantly　busy；　jerking　into　position　the　head　of　the　dejected　neophyte。　That　young　soul；　removed　from　the　Father's　personal　inspection；　began　to　blossom　forth　crudely　and　irregularly　enough；　into　new　provinces　of　thought；　through　fresh　layers　of　experience。　To　the　painful　mentor　at　home　in　the　West；　the　centre　of　anxiety　was　still　the　meek　and　docile　heart；　dedicated　to　the　Lord's　service；　which　must；　at　all　hazards　and　with　all　defiance　of　the　rules　of　life；　be　kept　unspotted　from　the　world。

The　torment　of　a　postal　inquisition　began　directly　I　was　settled　in　my　London　lodgings。　To　my　Fatherwith　his　ample　leisure；　his　palpitating　apprehension；　his　ready　penthe　flow　of　correspondence　offered　no　trouble　at　all；　it　was　a　grave　but　gratifying　occupation。　To　me　the　almost　daily　letter　of　exhortation；　with　its　string　of　questions　about　conduct；　its　series　of　warnings；　grew　to　be　a　burden　which　could　hardly　be　borne；　particularly　because　it　involved　a　reply　as　punctual　and　if　possible　as　full　as　itself。　At　the　age　of　seventeen；　the　metaphysics　of　the　soul　are　shadowy；　and　it　is　a　dreadful　thing　to　be　forced　to　define　the　exact　outline　of　what　is　so　undulating　and　so　shapeless。　To　my　Father　there　seemed　no　reason　why　I　should　hesitate　to　give　answers　of　full　metallic　ring　to　his　hard　and　oft…repeated　questions；　but　to　me　this　correspondence　was　torture。　When　I　feebly　expostulated；　when　I　begged　to　be　left　a　little　to　myself；　these　appeals　of　mine　automatically　stimulated；　and　indeed　blew　up　into　fierce　flames；　the　ardour　of　my　Father's　alarm。

The　letter；　the　only　too…confidently　expected　letter；　would　lie　on　the　table　as　I　descended　to　breakfast。　It　would　commonly　be；　of　course；　my　only　letter；　unless　tempered　by　a　cosy　and　chatty　note　from　my　dear　and　comfortable　stepmother；　dealing　with　such　perfectly　tranquillizing　subjects　as　the　harvest　of　roses　in　the　garden　or　the　state　of　health　of　various　neighbours。　But　the　other；　the　solitary　letter；　in　its　threatening　whiteness；　with　its　exquisitely　penned　addressthere　it　would　lie　awaiting　me；　destroying　the　taste　of　the　bacon；　reducing　the　flavour　of　the　tea　to　insipidity。　I　might　fatuously　dally　with　it；　I　might　pretend　not　to　observe　it；　but　there　it　lay。　Before　the　morning's　exercise　began；　I　knew　that　it　had　to　be　read；　and　what　was　worse；　that　it　had　to　be　answered。　Useless　the　effort　to　conceal　from　myself　what　it　contained。　Like　all　its　precursors；　like　all　its　followers；　it　would　insist；　with　every　variety　of　appeal；　on　a　reiterated　declaration　that　I　still　fully　intended；　as　in　the　days　of　my　earliest　childhood；　'to　be　on　the　Lord's　side'　in　everything。

In　my　replies；　I　would　sometimes　answer　precisely　as　I　was　desired　to　answer；　sometimes　I　would　evade　the　queries；　and　write　about　other　things；　sometimes　I　would　turn　upon　the　tormentor；　and　urge　that　my　tender　youth　might　be　let　alone。　It　little　mattered　what　form　of　weakness　I　put　forth　by　way　of　baffling　my　Father's　direct；　firm；　unflinching　strength。　To　an　appeal　again