wild wales-第57部分

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that　I　believed　in　divine　prescience。　　He　asked　me　whether　I　hoped　
to　be　saved；　I　told　him　I　did；　and　asked　him　whether　he　hoped　to　be　
saved。　　He　told　me　he　did　not；　and　as　he　said　so；　he　tapped　with　a　
silver　tea…spoon　on　the　rim　of　his　glass。　　I　said　that　he　seemed　to　
take　very　coolly　the　prospect　of　damnation；　he　replied　that　it　was　
of　no　use　taking　what　was　inevitable　otherwise　than　coolly。　　I　
asked　him　on　what　ground　he　imagined　he　should　be　lost；　he　replied　
on　the　ground　of　being　predestined　to　be　lost。　　I　asked　him　how　he　
knew　he　was　predestined　to　be　lost；　whereupon　he　asked　me　how　I　
knew　I　was　to　be　saved。　　I　told　him　I　did　not　know　I　was　to　be　
saved；　but　trusted　I　should　be　so　by　belief　in　Christ；　who　came　
into　the　world　to　save　sinners；　and　that　if　he　believed　in　Christ　
he　might　be　as　easily　saved　as　myself；　or　any　other　sinner　who　
believed　in　Him。　　Our　dispute　continued　a　considerable　time　longer。　　
At　last；　finding　him　silent；　and　having　finished　my　brandy　and　
water；　I　got　up；　rang　the　bell；　paid　for　what　I　had　had；　and　left　
him　looking　very　miserable；　perhaps　at　finding　that　he　was　not　
quite　so　certain　of　eternal　damnation　as　he　had　hitherto　supposed。　　
There　can　be　no　doubt　that　the　idea　of　damnation　is　anything　but　
disagreeable　to　some　people；　it　gives　them　a　kind　of　gloomy　
consequence　in　their　own　eyes。　　We　must　be　something　particular　
they　think；　or　God　would　hardly　think　it　worth　His　while　to　torment　
us　for　ever。

I　inquired　the　way　to　Festiniog；　and　finding　that　I　had　passed　by　
it　on　my　way　to　the　town；　I　went　back；　and　as　directed　turned　to　
the　east　up　a　wide　pass；　down　which　flowed　a　river。　　I　soon　found　
myself　in　another　and　very　noble　valley；　intersected　by　the　river　
which　was　fed　by　numerous　streams　rolling　down　the　sides　of　the　
hills。　　The　road　which　I　followed　in　the　direction　of　the　east　lay　
on　the　southern　side　of　the　valley　and　led　upward　by　a　steep　
ascent。　　On　I　went；　a　mighty　hill　close　on　my　right。　　My　mind　was　
full　of　enthusiastic　fancies；　I　was　approaching　Festiniog　the　
birthplace　of　Rhys　Goch；　who　styled　himself　Rhys　Goch　of　Eryri　or　
Red　Rhys　of　Snowdon；　a　celebrated　bard；　and　a　partisan　of　Owen　
Glendower；　who　lived　to　an　immense　age；　and　who；　as　I　had　read；　was　
in　the　habit　of　composing　his　pieces　seated　on　a　stone　which　formed　
part　of　a　Druidical　circle；　for　which　reason　the　stone　was　called　
the　chair　of　Rhys　Goch；　yes；　my　mind　was　full　of　enthusiastic　
fancies　all　connected　with　this　Rhys　Goch；　and　as　I　went　along　
slowly；　I　repeated　stanzas　of　furious　war　songs　of　his　exciting　his　
countrymen　to　exterminate　the　English；　and　likewise　snatches　of　an　
abusive　ode　composed　by　him　against　a　fox　who　had　run　away　with　his　
favourite　peacock；　a　piece　so　abounding　with　hard　words　that　it　was　
termed　the　Drunkard's　chokepear；　as　no　drunkard　was　ever　able　to　
recite　it；　and　ever　and　anon　I　wished　I　could　come　in　contact　with　
some　native　of　the　region　with　whom　I　could　talk　about　Rhys　Goch；　
and　who　could　tell　me　whereabouts　stood　his　chair。

Strolling　along　in　this　manner　I　was　overtaken　by　an　old　fellow　
with　a　stick　in　his　hand；　walking　very　briskly。　　He　had　a　crusty　
and　rather　conceited　look。　　I　spoke　to　him　in　Welsh；　and　he　
answered　in　English；　saying　that　I　need　not　trouble　myself　by　
speaking　Welsh；　as　he　had　plenty　of　English；　and　of　the　very　best。　　
We　were　from　first　to　last　at　cross　purposes。　　I　asked　him　about　
Rhys　Goch　and　his　chair。　　He　told　me　that　he　knew　nothing　of　
either；　and　began　to　talk　of　Her　Majesty's　ministers　and　the　fine　
sights　of　London。　　I　asked　him　the　name　of　a　stream　which；　
descending　a　gorge　on　our　right；　ran　down　the　side　of　a　valley；　to　
join　the　river　at　its　bottom。　　He　told　me　that　he　did　not　know；　and　
asked　me　the　name　of　the　Queen's　eldest　daughter。　　I　told　him　I　did　
not　know；　and　remarked　that　it　was　very　odd　that　he　could　not　tell　
me　the　name　of　a　stream　in　his　own　vale。　　He　replied　that　it　was　
not　a　bit　more　odd　than　that　I　could　not　tell　him　the　name　of　the　
eldest　daughter　of　the　Queen　of　England：　　I　told　him　that　when　I　
was　in　Wales　I　wanted　to　talk　about　Welsh　matters；　and　he　told　me　
that　when　he　was　with　English　he　wanted　to　talk　about　English　
matters。　　I　returned　to　the　subject　of　Rhys　Goch　and　his　chair；　and　
he　returned　to　the　subject　of　Her　Majesty's　ministers；　and　the　fine　
folks　of　London。　　I　told　him　that　I　cared　not　a　straw　about　Her　
Majesty's　ministers　and　the　fine　folks　of　London；　and　he　replied　
that　he　cared　not　a　straw　for　Rhys　Goch；　his　chair　or　old　women's　
stories　of　any　kind。

Regularly　incensed　against　the　old　fellow；　I　told　him　he　was　a　bad　
Welshman；　and　he　retorted　by　saying　I　was　a　bad　Englishman。　　I　said　
he　appeared　to　know　next　to　nothing。　　He　retorted　by　saying　I　knew　
less　than　nothing；　and　almost　inarticulate　with　passion　added　that　
he　scorned　to　walk　in　such　illiterate　company；　and　suiting　the　
action　to　the　word　sprang　up　a　steep　and　rocky　footpath　on　the　
right；　probably　a　short　cut　to　his　domicile；　and　was　out　of　sight　
in　a　twinkling。　　We　were　both　wrong：　　I　most　so。　　He　was　crusty　and　
conceited；　but　I　ought　to　have　humoured　him　and　then　I　might　have　
got　out　of　him　anything　he　knew；　always　supposing　that　he　knew　
anything。

About　an　hour's　walk　from　Tan　y　Bwlch　brought　me　to　Festiniog；　
which　is　situated　on　the　top　of　a　lofty　hill　looking　down　from　the　
south…east；　on　the　valley　which　I　have　described；　and　which　as　I　
know　not　its　name　I　shall　style　the　Valley　of　the　numerous　streams。　　
I　went　to　the　inn；　a　large　old…fashioned　house　standing　near　the　
church；　the　mistress　of　it　was　a　queer…looking　old　woman；　
antiquated　in　her　dress　and　rather　blunt　in　her　manner。　　Of　her；　
after　ordering　dinner；　I　made　inquiries　respecting　the　chair　of　
Rhys　Goch；　but　she　said　that　she　had　never　heard　of　such　a　thing；　
and　after　glancing　at　me　askew；　for　a　moment；　with　a　curiously…
formed　left　eye　which　she　had；　went　away　muttering　chair；　chair；　
leaving　me　in　a　large　and　rather　dreary　parlour；　to　which　she　had　
shown　me。　　I　felt　very　fatigued；　rather　I　believe　from　that　unlucky　
short　cut　than　from　the　length　of　the　way；　for　I　had　not　come　more　
than　eighteen　miles。　　Drawing　a　chair　towards　a　table　I　sat　down；　
and　placing　my　elbows　upon　the　board　I　leaned　my　face　upon　my　
upturned　hands；　and　presently　fell　into　a　sweet　sleep；　from　which　I　
awoke　exceedingly　refreshed　just　as　a　maid　opened　the　room　door　to　
lay　the　cloth。

After　dinner　I　got　up；　went　out　and　strolled　about　the　place。　　It　
was　small；　and　presented　nothing　very　remarkable。　　Tired　of　
strolling　I　went　and　leaned　my　back　against　the　wall　of　the　
churchyard　and　enjoyed　the　cool　of　the　evening；　for　evening　with　
its　coolness　and　shadows　had　now　come　on。

As　I　leaned　against　the　wall；　an　elderly　man　came　up　and　entered　
into　discourse　with　me。　　He　told　me　he　was　a　barber　by　profession；　
had　travelled　all　over　Wales；　and　had　seen　London。　　I　asked　him　
about　the　chair　of　Rhys　Goch。　　He　told　me　that　he　had　heard　of　some　
such　chair　a　long　time　ago；　but　could　give　me　no　information　as　to　
where　it　stood。　　I　know　not　how　it　happened　that　he　came　to　speak　
about　my　landlady；　but　speak　about　her　he　did。　　He　said　that　she　
was　a　good　kind　of　woman；　but　totally　unqualified　for　business；　as　
she　knew　not　how　to　charge。　　On　my　observing　that　that　was　a　piece　
of　ignorance　with　which　few　landladies　or　landlords　either　were　
taxable；　he　said　that　however　other　publicans　might　overcharge；　
undercharging　was　her　foible；　and　that　she　had　brought　herself　very　
low　in　the　world　by　it　…　that　to　his　certain　knowledge　she　might　
have　been　worth　thousands　instead　of　the　trifle　which　she　was　
possessed　of；　and　that　she　was　particularly　notorious　for　
undercharging　the　English；　a　thing　never　before　dreamt　of　in　Wales。　　
I　told　him　that　I　was　very　glad　that　I　had　come　under　the　roof　of　
such　a　landlady；　the　old　barber；　however；　said　that　she　was　setting　
a　bad　example；　that　such　goings　on　could　not　last　long；　that　he　
knew　how　things　would　end；　and　finally　working　himself　up　into　a　
regular　tiff　left　me　abruptly　without　wishing　me　good…night。

I　returned　to　the　inn；　and　called　for　lights；　the　lights　were　
placed　upon　the　table　in　the　old…fashioned　parlour；　and　I　was　left　
to　myself。　　I　walked　up　and　down　the　room　some　time。　　At　length；　
seeing　some　old　books　lying　in　a　corner；　I　laid　hold　of　them；　
carried　them　to　the　table；　sat　down　and　began　to　inspect　them；　they　
were　the　three　volumes　of　Scott's　〃Cavalier〃　…　I　had　seen　this　work　
when　a　youth；　and　thought　it　a　tiresome　trashy　publication。　　
Looking　over　it　now　when　I　was　grown　old　I　thought　so　still；　but　I　
now　detected　in　it　what　from　want　of　knowledge　I　had　not　detected　
in　my　early　years；　what　the　highest　genius；　had　it　been　manifested　
in　every　page；　could　not　have　compensated　for；　base　fulsome　
adulation　of　the　worthless　great；　and　most　unprincipled　libelling　
of　the　truly　noble　ones　of　the　earth；　because　they　the　sons　of　
peasants　and　handycraftsmen；　stood　up　for　the　rights　of　outraged　
humanity；　and　proclaimed　that　it　is　worth　makes　the　man　and　not　
embroidered　clothing。　　The　heartless；　unprincipled　son　of　the　
tyrant　was　transformed　in　that　worthless　book　into　a　slightly…
dissipated；　it　is　true；　but　upon　the　whole　brave；　generous　and　
amiable　being；　and　Harrison；　the　English　Regulus；　honest；　brave；　
unflinching　Harrison；　into　a　pseudo…fanatic；　a　mixture　of　the　rogue　
and　fool。　　Harrison；　probably　the　man　of　the　most　noble　and　
courageous　heart　that　England　ever　produced；　who　when　all　was　lost　
scorned　to　flee；　like　the　second　Charles　from　Worcester；　but；　
braved　infamous　judges　and　the　gallows；　who　when　reproached　on　his　
mock　trial　with　complicity　in　the　death　of　the　king；　gave　the　noble　
answer　that　〃It　was　a　thing　not　done　in　a　corner；〃　and　when　in　the　
cart　on　the　way　to　Tyburn；　on　being　asked　jeeringly　by　a　lord's　
bastard　in　the　crowd；　〃Where　is　the　good　old　cause　now？〃　thrice　
struck　his　strong　fist　on　the　breast　which　contained　his　courageous　
heart；　exclaiming；　〃Here；　here；　here！〃　　Yet　for　that　〃Cavalier；〃　
that　trumpery　publication；　t