father and son-第14部分

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described；　in　the　marvellous　pages　of　the　'Prelude'；　the　impact　of　nature　upon　the　infant　soul；　but　he　has　described　it　vaguely　and　faintly；　with　some　'infirmity　of　love　for　days　disowned　by　memory'；I　think　because　he　was　brought　up　in　the　midst　of　spectacular　beauty；　and　could　name　no　moment；　mark　no　'here'　or　'now'；　when　the　wonder　broke　upon　him。　It　was　at　the　age　of　twice　five　summers；　he　thought；　that　he　began　to　hold　unconscious　intercourse　with　nature；　'drinking　in　a　pure　organic　pleasure'　from　the　floating　mists　and　winding　waters。　Perhaps；　in　his　anxiety　to　be　truthful；　and　in　the　absence　of　any　record；　he　put　the　date　of　this　conscious　rapture　too　late　rather　than　too　early。　Certainly　my　own　impregnation　with　the　obscurely…defined　but　keenly…felt　loveliness　of　the　open　sea　dates　from　the　first　week　of　my　ninth　year。

The　village；　on　the　outskirts　of　which　we　had　taken　up　our　abode；　was　built　parallel　to　the　cliff　line　above　the　shore；　but　half　a　mile　inland。　For　a　long　time　after　the　date　I　have　now　reached；　no　other　form　of　natural　scenery　than　the　sea　had　any　effect　upon　me　at　all。　The　tors　of　the　distant　moor　might　be　drawn　in　deep　blue　against　the　pallor　of　our　morning　or　our　evening　sky；　but　I　never　looked　at　them。　It　was　the　Sea；　always　the　sea；　nothing　but　the　sea。　From　our　house；　or　from　the　field　at　the　back　of　our　house；　or　from　any　part　of　the　village　itself；　there　was　no　appearance　to　suggest　that　there　could　lie　anything　in　an　easterly　direction　to　break　the　infinitude　of　red　ploughed　fields。　But　on　that　earliest　morning；　how　my　heart　remembers　we　hastened；Miss　Marks；　the　maid；　and　I　between　them；　along　a　couple　of　high…walled　lanes；　when　suddenly；　far　below　us；　in　an　immense　arc　of　light；　there　stretched　the　enormous　plain　of　waters。　We　had　but　to　cross　a　step　or　two　of　downs；　when　the　hollow　sides　of　the　great　limestone　cove　yawned　at　our　feet；　descending；　like　a　broken　cup；　down；　down　to　the　moon　of　snow…　white　shingle　and　the　expanse　of　blue…green　sea。

In　these　twentieth…century　days；　a　careful　municipality　has　studded　the　down　with　rustic　seats　and　has　shut　its　dangers　out　with　railings；　has　cut　a　winding　carriage…drive　round　the　curves　of　the　cove　down　to　the　shore；　and　has　planted　sausage…laurels　at　intervals　in　clearings　made　for　that　aesthetic　purpose。　When　last　I　saw　the　place；　thus　smartened　and　secured；　with　its　hair　in　curl…papers　and　its　feet　in　patent…leathers；　I　turned　from　it　in　anger　and　disgust；　and　could　almost　have　wept。　I　suppose　that　to　those　who　knew　it　in　no　other　guise；　it　may　still　have　beauty。　No　parish　councils；　beneficent　and　shrewd；　can　obscure　the　lustre　of　the　waters　or　compress　the　vastness　of　the　sky。　But　what　man　could　do　to　make　wild　beauty　ineffectual；　tame　and　empty；　has　amply　been　performed　at　Oddicombe。

Very　different　was　it　fifty　years　ago；　in　its　uncouth　majesty。　No　road；　save　the　merest　goat…path；　led　down　its　concave　wilderness；　in　which　loose　furze…bushes　and　untrimmed　brambles　wantoned　into　the　likeness　of　trees；　each　draped　in　audacious　tissue　of　wild　clematis。　Through　this　fantastic　maze　the　traveller　wound　his　way；　led　by　little　other　clue　than　by　the　instinct　of　descent。　For　me；　as　a　child；　it　meant　the　labour　of　a　long；　an　endless　morning；　to　descend　to　the　snow…white　pebbles；　to　sport　at　the　edge　of　the　cold；　sharp　sea；　and　then　to　climb　up　home　again；　slipping　in　the　sticky　red　mud；　clutching　at　the　smooth　boughs　of　the　wild　ash；　toiling；　toiling　upwards　into　flat　land　out　of　that　hollow　world　of　rocks。

On　the　first　occasion　I　recollect；　our　Cockney　housemaid；　enthusiastic　young　creature　that　she　was；　flung　herself　down　upon　her　knees；　and　drank　of　the　salt　waters。　Miss　Marks；　more　instructed　in　phenomena；　refrained；　but　I；　although　I　was　perfectly　aware　what　the　taste　would　be；　insisted　on　sipping　a　few　drops　from　the　palm　of　my　hand。　This　was　a　slight　recurrence　of　what　I　have　called　my　'natural　magic'　practices；　which　had　passed　into　the　background　of　my　mind；　but　had　not　quite　disappeared。　I　recollect　that　I　thought　I　might　secure　some　power　of　walking　on　the　sea；　if　I　drank　of　ita　perfectly　irrational　movement　of　mind；　like　those　of　savages。

My　great　desire　was　to　walk　out　over　the　sea　as　far　as　I　could；　and　then　lie　flat　on　it；　face　downwards；　and　peer　into　the　depths。　I　was　tormented　with　this　ambition；　and；　like　many　grown…　up　people；　was　so　fully　occupied　by　these　vain　and　ridiculous　desires　that　I　neglected　the　actual　natural　pleasures　around　me。　The　idea　was　not　quite　so　demented　as　it　may　seem；　because　we　were　in　the　habit　of　singing；　as　well　as　reading；　of　those　enraptured　beings　who　spend　their　days　in　'flinging　down　their　golden　crowns　upon　the　jasper　sea'。　Why；　I　argued；　should　I　not　be　able　to　fling　down　my　straw　hat　upon　the　tides　of　Oddicombe？　And；　without　question；　a　majestic　scene　upon　the　Lake　of　Gennesaret　had　also　inflamed　my　fancy。　Of　all　these　things；　of　course；　I　was　careful　to　speak　to　no　one。

It　was　not　with　Miss　Marks；　however；　but　with　my　Father；　that　I　became　accustomed　to　make　the　laborious　and　exquisite　journeys　down　to　the　sea　and　back　again。　His　work　as　a　naturalist　eventually　took　him；　laden　with　implements；　to　the　rock…pools　on　the　shore；　and　I　was　in　attendance　as　an　acolyte。　But　our　earliest　winter　in　South　Devon　was　darkened　for　us　both　by　disappointments；　the　cause　of　which　lay；　at　the　time；　far　out　of　my　reach。　In　the　spirit　of　my　Father　were　then　running；　with　furious　velocity；　two　hostile　streams　of　influence。　I　was　standing；　just　now；　thinking　of　these　things；　where　the　Cascine　ends　in　the　wooded　point　which　is　carved　out　sharply　by　the　lion…　coloured　swirl　of　the　Arno　on　the　one　side　and　by　the　pure　flow　of　the　Mugnone　on　the　other。　The　rivers　meet；　and　run　parallel；　but　there　comes　a　moment　when　the　one　or　the　other　must　conquer；　and　it　is　the　yellow　vehemence　that　drowns　the　purer　tide。

So；　through　my　Father's　brain；　in　that　year　of　scientific　crisis；　1857；　there　rushed　two　kinds　of　thought；　each　absorbing；　each　convincing；　yet　totally　irreconcilable。　There　is　a　peculiar　agony　in　the　paradox　that　truth　has　two　forms；　each　of　them　indisputable；　yet　each　antagonistic　to　the　other。　It　was　this　discovery；　that　there　were　two　theories　of　physical　life；　each　of　which　was　true；　but　the　truth　of　each　incompatible　with　the　truth　of　the　other；　which　shook　the　spirit　of　my　Father　with　perturbation。　It　was　not；　really；　a　paradox；　it　was　a　fallacy；　if　he　could　only　have　known　it；　but　he　allowed　the　turbid　volume　of　superstition　to　drown　the　delicate　stream　of　reason。　He　took　one　step　in　the　service　of　truth；　and　then　he　drew　back　in　an　agony；　and　accepted　the　servitude　of　error。

This　was　the　great　moment　in　the　history　of　thought　when　the　theory　of　the　mutability　of　species　was　preparing　to　throw　a　flood　of　light　upon　all　departments　of　human　speculation　and　action。　It　was　becoming　necessary　to　stand　emphatically　in　one　army　or　the　other。　Lyell　was　surrounding　himself　with　disciples；　who　were　making　strides　in　the　direction　of　discovery。　Darwin　had　long　been　collecting　facts　with　regard　to　the　variation　of　animals　and　plants。　Hooker　and　Wallace；　Asa　Gray　and　even　Agassiz；　each　in　his　own　sphere；　were　coming　closer　and　closer　to　a　perception　of　that　secret　which　was　first　to　reveal　itself　clearly　to　the　patient　and　humble　genius　of　Darwin。　In　the　year　before；　in　1856；　Darwin；　under　pressure　from　Lyell；　had　begun　that　modest　statement　of　the　new　revelation；　that　'abstract　of　an　essay'；　which　developed　so　mightily　into　'The　Origin　of　Species'。　Wollaston's　'Variation　of　Species'　had　just　appeared；　and　had　been　a　nine　days'　wonder　in　the　wilderness。

On　the　other　side；　the　reactionaries；　although　never　dreaming　of　the　fate　which　hung　over　them；　had　not　been　idle。　In　1857　the　astounding　question　had　for　the　first　time　been　propounded　with　contumely；　'What；　then；　did　we　come　from　an　orang…outang？'　The　famous　'Vestiges　of　Creation'　had　been　supplying　a　sugar…and…　water　panacea　for　those　who　could　not　escape　from　the　trend　of　evidence；　and　who　yet　clung　to　revelation。　Owen　was　encouraging　reaction　by　resisting；　with　all　the　strength　of　his　prestige；　the　theory　of　the　mutability　of　species。

In　this　period　of　intellectual　ferment；　as　when　a　great　political　revolution　is　being　planned；　many　possible　adherents　were　confidentially　tested　with　hints　and　encouraged　to　reveal　their　bias　in　a　whisper。　It　was　the　notion　of　Lyell；　himself　a　great　mover　of　men；　that；　before　the　doctrine　of　natural　selection　was　given　to　a　world　which　would　be　sure　to　lift　up　at　it　a　howl　of　execration；　a　certain　bodyguard　of　sound　and　experienced　naturalists；　expert　in　the　description　of　species；　should　be　privately　made　aware　of　its　tenor。　Among　those　who　were　thus　initiated；　or　approached　with　a　view　towards　possible　illumination；　was　my　Father。　He　was　spoken　to　by　Hooker；　and　later　on　by　Darwin；　after　meetings　of　the　Royal　Society　in　the　summer　of　1857。

My　Father's　attitude　towards　the　theory　of　natural　selection　was　critical　in　his　career；　and　oddly　enough；　it　exercised　an　immense　influence　on　my　own　experience　as　a　child。　Let　it　be　admitted　at　once；　mournful　as　the　admission　is；　that　every　instinct　in　his　intelligence　went　out　at　first　to　greet　the　new　light。　It　had　hardly　done　so；　when　a　recollection　of　the　opening　chapter　of　'　Genesis'　checked　it　at　the　outset。　He　consulted　with　Carpenter；　a　great　investigator；　but　one　who　was　fully　as　incapable　as　himself　of　remodelling　his　ideas　with　regard　to　the　old；　accepted　hypotheses。　They　both　determined；　on　various　grounds；　to　have　nothing　to　do　with　the　terrible　theory；　but　to　hold　steadily　to　the　law　of　the　fixity　of　species。　It　was　exactly　at　this　juncture　that　we　left　London；　and　the　slight　and　occasional　but　always　extremely　salutary　personal　intercourse　with　men　of　scientific　leading　which　my　Father　had　enjoyed　at　the　British　Museum　and　at　the　Royal　Society　came　to　an　end。　His　next　act　was　to　burn　his　ships　down　to　the　last　beam　and　log　out　of　which　a　raft　could　have　been　made。　By　a　strange　act　of　wilfulness；　he　closed　the　doors　upon　himself　forever。

My　Father　had　never　admired　Sir　Charles　Lyell。　I　think　that　the　famous　'Lord　Chancellor　manner'　of　the　geologist　intimidated　him；　an