father and son-第8节

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ly　that　it　was　not　right　for　me　to　pray　for　things　like　humming…tops；　and　that　I　must　do　it　no　more。　His　authority；　of　course；　was　Paramount；　and　I　yielded；　but　my　faith　in　the　efficacy　of　prayer　was　a　good　deal　shaken。　The　fatal　suspicion　had　crossed　my　mind　that　the　reason　why　I　was　not　to　pray　for　the　top　was　because　it　was　too　expensive　for　my　parents　to　buy；　that　being　the　usual　excuse　for　not　getting　things　I　wished　for。

It　was　about　the　date　of　my　sixth　birthday　that　I　did　something　very　naughty；　some　act　of　direct　disobedience；　for　which　my　Father；　after　a　solemn　sermon；　chastised　me；　sacrificially；　by　giving　me　several　cuts　with　a　cane。　This　action　was　justified；　as　everything　he　did　was　justified；　by　reference　to　Scripture　'Spare　the　rod　and　spoil　the　child'。　I　suppose　that　there　are　some　children；　of　a　sullen　and　lymphatic　temperament；　who　are　smartened　up　and　made　more　wide…awake　by　a　whipping。　It　is　largely　a　matter　of　convention；　the　exercise　being　endured　（I　am　told）　with　pride　by　the　infants　of　our　aristocracy；　but　not　tolerated　by　the　lower　classes。　I　am　afraid　that　I　proved　my　inherent　vulgarity　by　being　made；　not　contrite　or　humble；　but　furiously　angry　by　this　caning。　I　cannot　account　for　the　flame　of　rage　which　it　awakened　in　my　bosom。　My　dear；　excellent　Father　had　beaten　me；　not　very　severely；　without　ill…temper；　and　with　the　most　genuine　desire　to　improve　me。　But　he　was　not　well…advised　especially　so　far　as　the　'dedication　to　the　Lord's　service'　was　concerned。　This　same　'dedication'　had　ministered　to　my　vanity；　and　there　are　some　natures　which　are　not　improved　by　being　humiliated。　I　have　to　confess　with　shame　that　I　went　about　the　house　for　some　days　with　a　murderous　hatred　of　my　Father　locked　within　my　bosom。　He　did　not　suspect　that　the　chastisement　had　not　been　wholly　efficacious；　and　he　bore　me　no　malice；　so　that　after　a　while；　I　forgot　and　thus　forgave　him。　But　I　do　not　regard　physical　punishment　as　a　wise　element　in　the　education　of　proud　and　sensitive　children。

My　theological　misdeeds　culminated；　however；　in　an　act　so　puerile　and　preposterous　that　I　should　not　venture　to　record　it　if　it　did　not　throw　some　glimmering　of　light　on　the　subject　which　I　have　proposed　to　myself　in　writing　these　pages。　My　mind　continued　to　dwell　on　the　mysterious　question　of　prayer。　It　puzzled　me　greatly　to　know　why；　if　we　were　God's　children；　and　if　he　was　watching　over　us　by　night　and　day；　we　might　not　supplicate　for　toys　and　sweets　and　smart　clothes　as　well　as　for　the　conversion　of　the　heathen。　Just　at　this　juncture；　we　had　a　special　service　at　the　Room；　at　which　our　attention　was　particularly　called　to　what　we　always　spoke　of　as　'the　field　of　missionary　labour'。　The　East　was　represented　among　'the　saints'　by　an　excellent　Irish　peer；　who　had；　in　his　early　youth；　converted　and　married　a　lady　of　colour；　this　Asiatic　shared　in　our　Sunday　morning　meetings；　and　was　an　object　of　helpless　terror　to　me；　I　shrank　from　her　amiable　caresses；　and　vaguely　identified　her　with　a　personage　much　spoken　of　in　our　family　circle；　the　'Personal　Devil'。

All　these　matters　drew　my　thoughts　to　the　subject　of　idolatry；　which　was　severely　censured　at　the　missionary　meeting。　I　cross…　examined　my　Father　very　closely　as　to　the　nature　of　this　sin；　and　pinned　him　down　to　the　categorical　statement　that　idolatry　consisted　in　praying　to　anyone　or　anything　but　God　himself。　Wood　and　stone；　in　the　words　of　the　hymn；　were　peculiarly　liable　to　be　bowed　down　to　by　the　heathen　in　their　blindness。　I　pressed　my　Father　further　on　this　subject；　and　he　assured　me　that　God　would　be　very　angry；　and　would　signify　His　anger；　if　anyone；　in　a　Christian　country；　bowed　down　to　wood　and　stone。　I　cannot　recall　why　I　was　so　pertinacious　on　this　subject；　but　I　remember　that　my　Father　became　a　little　restive　under　my　cross…examination。　I　determined；　however；　to　test　the　matter　for　myself；　and　one　morning；　when　both　my　parents　were　safely　out　of　the　house；　I　prepared　for　the　great　act　of　heresy。　I　was　in　the　morning…room　on　the　ground…floor；　where；　with　much　labour；　I　hoisted　a　small　chair　on　to　the　table　close　to　the　window。　My　heart　was　now　beating　as　if　it　would　leap　out　of　my　side；　but　I　pursued　my　experiment。　I　knelt　down　on　the　carpet　in　front　of　the　table　and　looking　up　I　said　my　daily　prayer　in　a　loud　voice；　only　substituting　the　address　'Oh　Chair！'　for　the　habitual　one。

Having　carried　this　act　of　idolatry　safely　through；　I　waited　to　see　what　would　happen。　It　was　a　fine　day；　and　I　gazed　up　at　the　slip　of　white　sky　above　the　houses　opposite；　and　expected　something　to　appear　in　it。　God　would　certainly　exhibit　his　anger　in　some　terrible　form；　and　would　chastise　my　impious　and　willful　action。　I　was　very　much　alarmed；　but　still　more　excited；　I　breathed　the　high；　sharp　air　of　defiance。　But　nothing　happened；　there　was　not　a　cloud　in　the　sky；　not　an　unusual　sound　in　the　street。　Presently；　I　was　quite　sure　that　nothing　would　happen。　I　had　committed　idolatry；　flagrantly　and　deliberately；　and　God　did　not　care。

The　result　of　this　ridiculous　act　was　not　to　make　me　question　the　existence　and　power　of　God；　those　were　forces　which　I　did　not　dream　of　ignoring。　But　what　it　did　was　to　lessen　still　further　my　confidence　in　my　Father's　knowledge　of　the　Divine　mind。　My　Father　had　said；　positively；　that　if　I　worshipped　a　thing　made　of　wood；　God　would　manifest　his　anger。　I　had　then　worshipped　a　chair；　made　（or　partly　made）　of　wood；　and　God　had　made　no　sign　whatever。　My　Father；　therefore；　was　not　really　acquainted　with　the　Divine　practice　in　cases　of　idolatry。　And　with　that；　dismissing　the　subject；　I　dived　again　into　the　unplumbed　depths　of　the　Penny　Cyclopaedia。

CHAPTER　III

THAT　I　might　die　in　my　early　childhood　was　a　thought　which　frequently　recurred　to　the　mind　of　my　Mother。　She　endeavoured；　with　a　Roman　fortitude；　to　face　it　without　apprehension。　Soon　after　I　had　completed　my　fifth　year；　she　had　written　as　follows　in　her　secret　journal：

'Should　we　be　called　on　to　weep　over　the　early　grave　of　the　dear　one　whom　now　we　are　endeavouring　to　train　for　heaven；　may　we　be　able　to　remember　that　we　never　ceased　to　pray　for　and　watch　over　him。　It　is　easy；　comparatively；　to　watch　over　an　infant。　Yet　shall　I　be　sufficient　for　these　things？　I　am　not。　But　God　is　sufficient。　In　his　strength　I　have　begun　the　warfare；　in　his　strength　I　will　persevere；　and　I　will　faint　not　until　either　I　myself　or　my　little　one　is　beyond　the　reach　of　earthly　solicitude。'

That　either　she　or　I　would　be　called　away　from　earth；　and　that　our　physical　separation　was　at　hand；　seems　to　have　been　always　vaguely　present　in　my　Mother's　dreams；　as　an　obstinate　conviction　to　be　carefully　recognized　and　jealously　guarded　against。

It　was　not；　however；　until　the　course　of　my　seventh　year　that　the　tragedy　occurred；　which　altered　the　whole　course　of　our　family　existence。　My　Mother　had　hitherto　seemed　strong　and　in　good　health；　she　had　even　made　the　remark　to　my　Father；　that　'sorrow　and　pain；　the　badges　of　Christian　discipleship'；　appeared　to　be　withheld　from　her。　On　her　birthday；　which　was　to　be　her　last；　she　had　written　these　ejaculations　in　her　locked　diary：

Lord；　forgive　the　sins　of　the　past；　and　help　me　to　be　faithful　in　future！　May　this　be　a　year　of　much　blessing；　a　year　of　jubilee！　May　I　be　kept　lowly；　trusting；　loving！　May　I　have　more　blessing　than　in　all　former　years　combined！　May　I　be　happier　as　a　wife；　mother；　sister；　writer；　mistress；　friend！

But　a　symptom　began　to　alarm　her；　and　in　the　beginning　of　May；　having　consulted　a　local　physician　without　being　satisfied；　she　went　to　see　a　specialist　in　a　northern　suburb　in　whose　judgement　she　had　great　confidence。　This　occasion　I　recollect　with　extreme　vividness。　I　had　been　put　to　bed　by　my　Father；　in　itself　a　noteworthy　event。　My　crib　stood　near　a　window　overlooking　the　street；　my　parents'　ancient　four…poster；　a　relic　of　the　eighteenth　century；　hid　me　from　the　door；　but　I　could　see　the　rest　of　the　room。　After　falling　asleep　on　this　particular　evening；　I　awoke　silently；　surprised　to　see　two　lighted　candles　on　the　table；　and　my　Father　seated　writing　by　them。　I　also　saw　a　little　meal　arranged。

While　I　was　wondering　at　all　this；　the　door　opened；　and　my　Mother　entered　the　room；　she　emerged　from　behind　the　bed…curtains；　with　her　bonnet　on；　having　returned　from　her　expedition。　My　Father　rose　hurriedly；　pushing　back　his　chair。　There　was　a　pause；　while　my　Mother　seemed　to　be　steadying　her　voice；　and　then　she　replied；　loudly　and　distinctly；　'He　says　it　is'　and　she　mentioned　one　of　the　most　cruel　maladies　by　which　our　poor　mortal　nature　can　be　tormented。　Then　I　saw　them　hold　one　another　in　a　silent　long　embrace；　and　presently　sink　together　out　of　sight　on　their　knees；　at　the　farther　side　of　the　bed；　whereupon　my　Father　lifted　up　his　voice　in　prayer。　Neither　of　them　had　noticed　me；　and　now　I　lay　back　on　my　pillow　and　fell　asleep。

Next　morning；　when　we　three　sat　at　breakfast；　my　mind　reverted　to　the　scene　of　the　previous　night。　With　my　eyes　on　my　plate；　as　I　was　cutting　up　my　food；　I　asked；　casually；　'What　is？'　mentioning　the　disease　whose　unfamiliar　name　I　had　heard　from　my　bed。　Receiving　no　reply；　I　looked　up　to　discover　why　my　question　was　not　answered；　and　I　saw　my　parents