adam bede(亚当[1].比德)-第65节
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queer little flat blue smelling…bottle； and after much labour in
pulling the cork out； thrust the narrow neck against Hetty’s
nostrils。 “It donna smell；” she whispered； thinking this was a great
advantage which old salts had over fresh ones： they did you good
without biting your nose。 Hetty pushed it away peevishly； but this
little flash of temper did what the salts could not have done—it
roused her to wipe away the traces of her tears； and try with all
her might not to shed any more。 Hetty had a certain strength in
her vain little nature： she would have borne anything rather than
be laughed at； or pointed at with any other feeling than
admiration； she would have pressed her own nails into her tender
flesh rather than people should know a secret she did not want
them to know。
What fluctuations there were in her busy thoughts and feelings；
while Mr。 Irwine was pronouncing the solemn “Absolution” in her
deaf ears； and through all the tones of petition that followed！
Anger lay very close to disappointment； and soon won the victory
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over the conjectures her small ingenuity could devise to account
for Arthur’s absence on the supposition that he really wanted to
come； really wanted to see her again。 And by the time she rose
from her knees mechanically； because all the rest were rising； the
colour had returned to her cheeks even with a heightened glow；
for she was framing little indignant speeches to herself； saying she
hated Arthur for giving her this pain—she would like him to suffer
too。 Yet while this selfish tumult was going on in her soul； her eyes
were bent down on her prayer…book； and the eyelids with their
dark fringe looked as lovely as ever。 Adam Bede thought so； as he
glanced at her for a moment on rising from his knees。
But Adam’s thoughts of Hetty did not deafen him to the service；
they rather blended with all the other deep feelings for which the
church service was a channel to him this afternoon； as a certain
consciousness of our entire past and our imagined future blends
itself with all our moments of keen sensibility。 And to Adam the
church service was the best channel he could have found for his
mingled regret； yearning； and resignation； its interchange of
beseeching cries for help with outbursts of faith and praise； its
recurrent responses and the familiar rhythm of its collects；
seemed to speak for him as no other form of worship could have
done； as； to those early Christians who had worshipped from their
childhood upwards in catacombs； the torch…light and shadows
must have seemed nearer the Divine presence than the heathenish
daylight of the streets。 The secret of our emotions never lies in the
bare object； but in its subtle relations to our own past： no wonder
the secret escapes the unsympathising observer； who might as
well put on his spectacles to discern odours。
But there was one reason why even a chance comer would have
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found the service in Hayslope Church more impressive than in
most other village nooks in the kingdom—a reason of which I am
sure you have not the slightest suspicion。 It was the reading of our
friend Joshua Rann。 Where that good shoemaker got his notion of
reading from remained a mystery even to his most intimate
acquaintances。 I believe； after all； he got it chiefly from Nature；
who had poured some of her music into this honest conceited soul；
as she had been known to do into other narrow souls before his。
She had given him； at least； a fine bass voice and a musical ear；
but I cannot positively say whether these alone had sufficed to
inspire him with the rich chant in which he delivered the
responses。 The way he rolled from a rich deep forte into a
melancholy cadence； subsiding； at the end of the last word； into a
sort of faint resonance； like the lingering vibrations of a fine
violoncello； I can compare to nothing for its strong calm
melancholy but the rush and cadence of the wind among the
autumn boughs。 This may seem a strange mode of speaking about
the reading of a parish clerk—a man in rusty spectacles； with
stubbly hair； a large occiput； and a prominent crown。 But that is
Nature’s way： she will allow a gentleman of splendid physiognomy
and poetic aspirations to sing woefully out of tune； and not give
him the slightest hint of it； and takes care that some narrow…
browed fellow； trolling a ballad in the corner of a pot…house； shall
be as true to his intervals as a bird。
Joshua himself was less proud of his reading than of his
singing； and it was always with a sense of heightened importance
that he passed from the desk to the choir。 Still more to…day： it was
a special occasion； for an old man； familiar to all the parish； had
died a sad death—not in his bed； a circumstance the most painful
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to the mind of the peasant—and now the funeral psalm was to be
sung in memory of his sudden departure。 Moreover； Bartle
Massey was not at church； and Joshua’s importance in the choir
suffered no eclipse。 It was a solemn minor strain they sang。 The
old psalm…tunes have many a wail among them； and the words—
Thou sweep’st us off as with a flood；
We vanish hence like dreams—
seemed to have a closer application than usual in the death of poor
Thias。 The mother and sons listened； each with peculiar feelings。
Lisbeth had a vague belief that the psalm was doing her husband
good； it was part of that decent burial which she would have
thought it a greater wrong to withhold from him than to have
caused him many unhappy days while he was living。 The more
there was said about her husband； the more there was done for
him； surely the safer he would be。 It was poor Lisbeth’s blind way
of feeling that human love and pity are a ground of faith in some
other love。 Seth； who was easily touched； shed tears； and tried to
recall； as he had done continually since his father’s death； all that
he had heard of the possibility that a single moment of
consciousness at the last might be a moment of pardon and
reconcilement； for was it not written in the very psalm they were
singing that the Divine dealings were not measured and
circumscribed by time？ Adam had never been unable to join in a
psalm before。 He had known plenty of trouble and vexation since
he had been a lad； but this was the first sorrow that had hemmed
in his voice； and strangely enough it was sorrow because the chief
source of his past trouble and vexation was for ever gone out of his
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reach。 He had not been able to press his father’s hand before their
parting； and say； “Father； you know it was all right between us； I
never forgot what I owed you when I was a lad； you forgive me if I
have been too hot and hasty now and then！” Adam thought but
little to…day of the hard work and the earnings he had spent on his
father： his thoughts ran constantly on what the old man’s feelings
had been in moments of humiliation； when he had held down his
head before the rebukes of his son。 When our indignation is borne
in submissive
