robert falconer-第111部分
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the action it involves; it is the having to turn; be different; and
do differently; that they shrink from; and they have been taught to
believe that this will not be required of them therein that awful
refuge of the will…less。 I do not say they think thus: I only say
their dim; vague; feeble feelings are such as; if they grew into
thought; would take this form。 But tell them that the fire of God
without and within them will compel them to bethink themselves; that
the vision of an open door beyond the smoke and the flames will ever
urge them to call up the ice…bound will; that it may obey; that the
torturing spirit of God in them will keep their consciences awake;
not to remind them of what they ought to have done; but to tell them
what they must do now; and hell will no longer fascinate them。 Tell
them that there is no refuge from the compelling Love of God; save
that Love itselfthat He is in hell too; and that if they make
their bed in hell they shall not escape him; and then; perhaps; they
will have some true presentiment of the worm that dieth not and the
fire that is not quenched。
'Father; it will be of use in hell;' said Robert。 'God will give you
no rest even there。 You will have to repent some day; I do
believeif not now under the sunshine of heaven; then in the
torture of the awful world where there is no light but that of the
conscience。 Would it not be better and easier to repent now; with
your wife waiting for you in heaven; and your mother waiting for you
on earth?'
Will it be credible to my reader; that Andrew interrupted his son
with the words;
'Robert; it is dreadful to hear you talk like that。 Why; you don't
believe in the Bible!'
His words will be startling to one who has never heard the lips of a
hoary old sinner drivel out religion。 To me they are not so
startling as the words of Christian women and bishops of the Church
of England; when they say that the doctrine of the everlasting
happiness of the righteous stands or falls with the doctrine of the
hopeless damnation of the wicked。 Can it be that to such the word
is everything; the spirit nothing? No。 It is only that the devil is
playing a very wicked prank; not with them; but in them: they are
pluming themselves on being selfish after a godly sort。
'I do believe the Bible; father;' returned Robert; 'and have ordered
my life by it。 If I had not believed the Bible; I fear I should
never have looked for you。 But I won't dispute about it。 I only
say I believe that you will be compelled to repent some day; and
that now is the best time。 Then; you will not only have to repent;
but to repent that you did not repent now。 And I tell you; father;
that you shall go to my grandmother。'
CHAPTER XVI。
CHANGE OF SCENE。
But various reasons combined to induce Falconer to postpone yet for
a period their journey to the North。 Not merely did his father
require an unremitting watchfulness; which it would be difficult to
keep up in his native place amongst old friends and acquaintances;
but his health was more broken than he had at first supposed; and
change of air and scene without excitement was most desirable。 He
was anxious too that the change his mother must see in him should be
as little as possible attributable to other causes than those that
years bring with them。 To this was added that his own health had
begun to suffer from the watching and anxiety he had gone through;
and for his father's sake; as well as for the labour which yet lay
before him; he would keep that as sound as he might。 He wrote to
his grandmother and explained the matter。 She begged him to do as
he thought best; for she was so happy that she did not care if she
should never see Andrew in this world: it was enough to die in the
hope of meeting him in the other。 But she had no reason to fear
that death was at hand; for; although much more frail; she felt as
well as ever。
By this time Falconer had introduced me to his father。 I found him
in some things very like his son; in others; very different。 His
manners were more polished; his pleasure in pleasing much greater:
his humanity had blossomed too easily; and then run to seed。 Alas;
to no seed that could bear fruit! There was a weak expression about
his moutha wavering interrogation: it was so different from the
firmly…closed portals whence issued the golden speech of his son!
He had a sly; sidelong look at times; whether of doubt or cunning;
I could not always determine。 His eyes; unlike his son's; were of a
light blue; and hazy both in texture and expression。 His hands were
long…fingered and tremulous。 He gave your hand a sharp squeeze; and
the same instant abandoned it with indifference。 I soon began to
discover in him a tendency to patronize any one who showed him a
particle of respect as distinguished from common…place civility。
But under all outward appearances it seemed to me that there was a
change going on: at least being very willing to believe it; I found
nothing to render belief impossible。
He was very fond of the flute his son had given him; and on that
sweetest and most expressionless of instruments he played
exquisitely。
One evening when I called to see them; Falconer said;
'We are going out of town for a few weeks; Gordon: will you go with
us?'
'I am afraid I can't。'
'Why? You have no teaching at present; and your writing you can do
as well in the country as in town。'
'That is true; but still I don't see how I can。 I am too poor for
one thing。'
'Between you and me that is nonsense。'
'Well; I withdraw that;' I said。 'But there is so much to be done;
specially as you will be away; and Miss St John is at the Lakes。'
'That is all very true; but you need a change。 I have seen for some
weeks that you are failing。 Mind; it is our best work that He
wants; not the dregs of our exhaustion。 I hope you are not of the
mind of our friend Mr。 Watts; the curate of St。 Gregory's。'
'I thought you had a high opinion of Mr。 Watts;' I returned。
'So I have。 I hope it is not necessary to agree with a man in
everything before we can have a high opinion of him。'
'Of course not。 But what is it you hope I am not of his opinion
in?'
'He seems ambitious of killing himself with workof wearing himself
out in the service of his masterand as quickly as possible。 A
good deal of that kind of thing is a mere holding of the axe to the
grindstone; not a lifting of it up against thick trees。 Only he
won't be convinced till it comes to the helve。 I met him the other
day; he was looking as white as his surplice。 I took upon me to
read him a lecture on the holiness of holidays。 〃I can't leave my
poor;〃 he said。 〃Do you think God can't do without you?〃 I asked。
〃Is he so weak that he cannot spare the help of a weary man? But I
think he must prefer quality to quantity; and for healthy work you
must be healthy yourself。 How can you be the visible sign of the
Christ…present amongst men; if you inhabit an exhausted; irritable
brain? Go to God's infirmary and rest a while。 Bring back health
from the country to those that cannot go to it。 If on the way it be
transmuted into spiritual forms; so much the better。 A little more
of God will make up for a good deal less of you。'
'What did he say to that?'
'He said our Lord died doing the will of his Father。 I told
him〃Yes; when his time was come; not sooner。 Besides; he often
avoided both speech and action。〃 〃Yes;〃 he answered; 〃but he could
tell when; and we cannot。〃 〃Therefore;〃 I rejoined; 〃you ought to
accept your exhaustion as a token that your absence will be the best
thing for your people。 If there were no God; then perhaps you ought
to work till you drop down deadI don't know。〃'
'Is he gone yet?'
'No。 He won't go。 I couldn't persuade him。'
'When do you go?'
'To…morrow。'
'I shall be ready; if you really mean it。'
'That's an if worthy only of a courtier。 There may be much virtue
in an if; as Touchstone says; for the taking up of a quarrel; but
that if is bad enough to breed one;' said Falconer; laughing。 'Be at
the Paddington Station at noon to…morrow。 To tell the whole truth;
I want you to help me with my father。'
This last was said at the door as he showed me out。
In the afternoon we were nearing Bristol。 It was a lovely day in
October。 Andrew had been enjoying himself; but it was evidently
rather the pleasure of travelling in a first…class carriage like a
gentleman than any delight in the beauty of heaven and earth。 The
country was in the rich sombre dress of decay。
'Is it not remarkable;' said my friend to me; 'that the older I
grow; I find autumn affecting me the more like spring?'
'I am thankful to say;' interposed Andrew; with a smile in which was
mingled a shade of superiority; 'that no change of the seasons ever
affects me。'
'Are you sure you are right in being thankful for that; father?'
asked his son。
His father gazed at him for a moment; seemed to bethink himself
after some feeble fashion or other; and rejoined;
'Well; I must confess I did feel a touch of the rheumatism this
morning。'
How I pitied Falconer! Would he ever see of the travail of his soul
in this man? But he only smiled a deep sweet smile; and seemed to
be thinking divine things in that great head of his。
At Bristol we went on board a small steamer; and at night were
landed at a little village on the coast of North Devon。 The hotel
to which we went was on the steep bank of a tumultuous little river;
which tumbled past its foundation of rock; like a troop of watery
horses galloping by with ever…dissolving limbs。 The elder Falconer
retired almost as soon as we had had supper。 My friend and I
lighted our pipes; and sat by the open window; for although the
autumn was so