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第13节

memories and portraits-第13节

小说: memories and portraits 字数: 每页4000字

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again; and the choice of a point of view is easy to me。  It should 

be at a certain water…door; embowered in shrubbery。  The river is 

there dammed back for the service of the flour…mill just below; so 

that it lies deep and darkling; and the sand slopes into brown 

obscurity with a glint of gold; and it has but newly been recruited 

by the borrowings of the snuff…mill just above; and these; tumbling 

merrily in; shake the pool to its black heart; fill it with drowsy 

eddies; and set the curded froth of many other mills solemnly 

steering to and fro upon the surface。  Or so it was when I was 

young; for change; and the masons; and the pruning…knife; have been 

busy; and if I could hope to repeat a cherished experience; it must 

be on many and impossible conditions。  I must choose; as well as 

the point of view; a certain moment in my growth; so that the scale 

may be exaggerated; and the trees on the steep opposite side may 

seem to climb to heaven; and the sand by the water…door; where I am 

standing; seem as low as Styx。  And I must choose the season also; 

so that the valley may be brimmed like a cup with sunshine and the 

songs of birds; … and the year of grace; so that when I turn to 

leave the riverside I may find the old manse and its inhabitants 

unchanged。



It was a place in that time like no other: the garden cut into 

provinces by a great hedge of beech; and over…looked by the church 

and the terrace of the churchyard; where the tombstones were thick; 

and after nightfall 〃spunkies〃 might be seen to dance at least by 

children; flower…plots lying warm in sunshine; laurels and the 

great yew making elsewhere a pleasing horror of shade; the smell of 

water rising from all round; with an added tang of paper…mills; the 

sound of water everywhere; and the sound of mills … the wheel and 

the dam singing their alternate strain; the birds on every bush and 

from every corner of the overhanging woods pealing out their notes 

until the air throbbed with them; and in the midst of this; the 

manse。  I see it; by the standard of my childish stature; as a 

great and roomy house。  In truth; it was not so large as I 

supposed; nor yet so convenient; and; standing where it did; it is 

difficult to suppose that it was healthful。  Yet a large family of 

stalwart sons and tall daughters were housed and reared; and came 

to man and womanhood in that nest of little chambers; so that the 

face of the earth was peppered with the children of the manse; and 

letters with outlandish stamps became familiar to the local 

postman; and the walls of the little chambers brightened with the 

wonders of the East。  The dullest could see this was a house that 

had a pair of hands in divers foreign places: a well…beloved house 

… its image fondly dwelt on by many travellers。



Here lived an ancestor of mine; who was a herd of men。  I read him; 

judging with older criticism the report of childish observation; as 

a man of singular simplicity of nature; unemotional; and hating the 

display of what he felt; standing contented on the old ways; a 

lover of his life and innocent habits to the end。  We children 

admired him: partly for his beautiful face and silver hair; for 

none more than children are concerned for beauty and; above all; 

for beauty in the old; partly for the solemn light in which we 

beheld him once a week; the observed of all observers; in the 

pulpit。  But his strictness and distance; the effect; I now fancy; 

of old age; slow blood; and settled habit; oppressed us with a kind 

of terror。  When not abroad; he sat much alone; writing sermons or 

letters to his scattered family in a dark and cold room with a 

library of bloodless books … or so they seemed in those days; 

although I have some of them now on my own shelves and like well 

enough to read them; and these lonely hours wrapped him in the 

greater gloom for our imaginations。  But the study had a redeeming 

grace in many Indian pictures; gaudily coloured and dear to young 

eyes。  I cannot depict (for I have no such passions now) the greed 

with which I beheld them; and when I was once sent in to say a 

psalm to my grandfather; I went; quaking indeed with fear; but at 

the same time glowing with hope that; if I said it well; he might 

reward me with an Indian picture。



〃Thy foot He'll not let slide; nor will

He slumber that thee keeps;〃



it ran: a strange conglomerate of the unpronounceable; a sad model 

to set in childhood before one who was himself to be a versifier; 

and a task in recitation that really merited reward。  And I must 

suppose the old man thought so too; and was either touched or 

amused by the performance; for he took me in his arms with most 

unwonted tenderness; and kissed me; and gave me a little kindly 

sermon for my psalm; so that; for that day; we were clerk and 

parson。  I was struck by this reception into so tender a surprise 

that I forgot my disappointment。  And indeed the hope was one of 

those that childhood forges for a pastime; and with no design upon 

reality。  Nothing was more unlikely than that my grandfather should 

strip himself of one of those pictures; love…gifts and reminders of 

his absent sons; nothing more unlikely than that he should bestow 

it upon me。  He had no idea of spoiling children; leaving all that 

to my aunt; he had fared hard himself; and blubbered under the rod 

in the last century; and his ways were still Spartan for the young。  

The last word I heard upon his lips was in this Spartan key。  He 

had over…walked in the teeth of an east wind; and was now near the 

end of his many days。  He sat by the dining…room fire; with his 

white hair; pale face and bloodshot eyes; a somewhat awful figure; 

and my aunt had given him a dose of our good old Scotch medicine; 

Dr。 Gregory's powder。  Now that remedy; as the work of a near 

kinsman of Rob Roy himself; may have a savour of romance for the 

imagination; but it comes uncouthly to the palate。  The old 

gentleman had taken it with a wry face; and that being 

accomplished; sat with perfect simplicity; like a child's; munching 

a 〃barley…sugar kiss。〃  But when my aunt; having the canister open 

in her hands; proposed to let me share in the sweets; he interfered 

at once。  I had had no Gregory; then I should have no barley…sugar 

kiss: so he decided with a touch of irritation。  And just then the 

phaeton coming opportunely to the kitchen door … for such was our 

unlordly fashion … I was taken for the last time from the presence 

of my grandfather。



Now I often wonder what I have inherited from this old minister。  I 

must suppose; indeed; that he was fond of preaching sermons; and so 

am I; though I never heard it maintained that either of us loved to 

hear them。  He sought health in his youth in the Isle of Wight; and 

I have sought it in both hemispheres; but whereas he found and kept 

it; I am still on the quest。  He was a great lover of Shakespeare; 

whom he read aloud; I have been told; with taste; well; I love my 

Shakespeare also; and am persuaded I can read him well; though I 

own I never have been told so。  He made embroidery; designing his 

own patterns; and in that kind of work I never made anything but a 

kettle…holder in Berlin wool; and an odd garter of knitting; which 

was as black as the chimney before I had done with it。  He loved 

port; and nuts; and porter; and so do I; but they agreed better 

with my grandfather; which seems to me a breach of contract。  He 

had chalk…stones in his fingers; and these; in good time; I may 

possibly inherit; but I would much rather have inherited his noble 

presence。  Try as I please; I cannot join myself on with the 

reverend doctor; and all the while; no doubt; and even as I write 

the phrase; he moves in my blood; and whispers words to me; and 

sits efficient in the very knot and centre of my being。  In his 

garden; as I played there; I learned the love of mills … or had I 

an ancestor a miller? … and a kindness for the neighbourhood of 

graves; as homely things not without their poetry … or had I an 

ancestor a sexton?  But what of the garden where he played himself? 

… for that; too; was a scene of my education。  Some part of me 

played there in the eighteenth century; and ran races under the 

green avenue at Pilrig; some part of me trudged up Leith Walk; 

which was still a country place; and sat on the High School 

benches; and was thrashed; perhaps; by Dr。 Adam。  The house where I 

spent my youth was not yet thought upon; but we made holiday 

parties among the cornfields on its site; and ate strawberries and 

cream near by at a gardener's。  All this I had forgotten; only my 

grandfather remembered and once reminded me。  I have forgotten; 

too; how we grew up; and took orders; and went to our first 

Ayrshire parish; and fell in love with and married a daughter of 

Burns's Dr。 Smith … 〃Smith opens out his cauld harangues。〃  I have 

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