a new england girlhood-第8部分

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ll　children　together；　and　need　only　to　be　led　to　the　banks　of　the　river　of　God；　which　is　full　of　water；　that　we　may　look　down　into　its　pellucid　depths　for　ourselves。

Our　minister　was　not　unlike　other　ministers　of　the　time；　and　his　seeming　distance　from　his　congregation　was　doubtless　owing　to　the　deep　reverence　in　which　the　ministerial　office　was　universally　held　among　our　predecessors。　My　own　graven…image　worship　of　him　was　only　a　childish　exageration　of　the　general　feeling　of　grown　people　around　me。　He　seemed　to　us　an　inhabitant　of　a　Sabbath…day　sphere；　while　we　belonged　to　the　every…day　world。　I　distinctly　remember　the　day　of　my　christening；　when　I　was　between　three　and　four　years　old。　My　parents　did　not　make　a　public　profession　of　their　faith　until　after　the　birth　of　all　their　children；　eight　of　whomI　being　my　father's　ninth　child　and　seventh　daughterwere　baptized　at　one　time。　My　two　half…sisters　were　then　grown…up　young　women。　My　mother　had　told　us　that　the　minister　would　be　speaking　directly　to　us；　and　that　we　must　pay　close　attention　to　what　he　said。　I　felt　that　it　was　an　important　event；　and　I　wished　to　do　exactly　what　the　minister　desired　of　me。　I　listened　eagerly　while　he　read　the　chapter　and　the　hymn。　The　latter　was　one　of　my　favorites：

〃See　Israel's　gentle　Shepherd　stands；〃

and　the　chapter　was　the　third　of　St。　Matthew；　containing　the　story　of　our　Lord's　baptism。　I　could　not　make　out　any　special　message　for　us；　until　be　came　to　the　words；　〃Whose　fan　is　in　his　hand。〃

That　must　be　it！　I　looked　anxiously　at　my　sisters；　to　see　if　they　had　brought　their　fans。　It　was　warm　weather；　and　I　had　taken　a　little　one　of　my　own　to　meeting。　Believing　that　I　was　following　a　direct　instruction；　I　clasped　my　fan　to　my　bosom　and　held　it　there　as　we　walked　up　the　aisle；　and　during　the　ceremony；　wondering　why　the　others　did　not　do　so；　too。　The　baby　in　my　mother's　armsOctavia；　the　eighth　daughtershocked　me　by　crying　a　little；　but　I　tried　to　behave　the　better　on　that　account。

It　all　seemed　very　solemn　and　mysterious　to　me。　I　knew　from　my　father's　and　mother's　absorbed　manner　then；　and　when　we　returned　from　church；　that　it　was　something　exceedingly　important　to　Themsomething　that　they　wished　us　neither　to　talk　about　nor　to　forget。

I　never　did　forget　it。　There　remained　within　me　a　sweet；　haunting　feeling　of　having　come　near　the　〃gentle　Shepherd〃　of　the　hymn；　who　was　calling　the　lambs　to　his　side。　　The　chapter　had　ended　with　the　echo　of　a　voice　from　heaven；　and　with　the　glimpse　of　a　descending　Dove。　And　the　water…drops　on　my　forehead；　were　they　not　from　that　〃pure　river　of　water　of　life；　clear　as　crystal；〃　that　made　music　through　those　lovely　verses　in　the　last　chapter　of　the　good　Book？

I　am　glad　that　I　have　always　remembered　that　day　of　family　consecration。　As　I　look　back；　it　seems　as　if　the　horizons　of　heaven　and　earth　met　and　were　blended　then。　And　who　can　tell　whether　the　fragrance　of　that　day's　atmosphere　may　not　enter　into　the　freshness　of　some　new　childhood　in　the　life　which　is　to　come？

III。

THE　HYMN…BOOK。

ALMOST　the　first　decided　taste　in　my　life　was　the　love　of　hymns。　Committing　them　to　memory　was　as　natural　to　me　as　breathing。　I　followed　my　mother　about　with　the　hymn…book　（〃Watts'　and　Select〃）；　reading　or　repeating　them　to　her；　while　she　was　busy　with　her　baking　or　ironing；　and　she　was　always　a　willing　listener。　She　was　fond　of　devotional　reading；　but　had　little　time　for　it；　and　it　pleased　her　to　know　that　so　small　a　child　as　I　really　cared　for　the　hymns　she　loved。

I　learned　most　of　them　at　meeting。　I　was　told　to　listen　to　the　minister；　but　as　I　did　not　understand　a　word　he　was　saying；　I　gave　it　up；　and　took　refuge　in　the　hymn…book；　with　the　conscientious　purpose　of　trying　to　sit　still。　I　turned　the　leaves　over　as　noiselessly　as　possible；　to　avoid　the　dreaded　reproof　of　my　mother's　keen　blue　eyes；　and　sometimes　I　learned　two　or　three　hymns　in　a　forenoon　or　an　afternoon。　Finding　it　so　easy；　I　thought　I　would　begin　at　the　beginning；　and　learn　the　whole。　There　were　about　a　thousand　of　them　included　in　the　Psalms；　the　First；　Second；　and　Third　Books；　and　the　Select　Hymns。　But　I　had　learned　to　read　before　I　had　any　knowledge　of　counting　up　numbers；　and　so　was　blissfully　ignorant　of　the　magnitude　of　my　undertaking。　I　did　not；　I　think；　change　my　resolution　because　there　were　so　many；　but　because；　little　as　I　was；　I　discovered　that　there　were　hymns　and　hymns。　Some　of　them　were　so　prosy　that　the　words　would　not　stay　in　my　memory　at　all；　so　I　concluded　that　I　would　learn　only　those　I　liked。

I　had　various　reasons　for　my　preferences。　With　some；　I　was　caught　by　a　melodious　echo；　or　a　sonorous　ring；　with　others　by　the　hint　of　a　picture；　or　a　story；　or　by　some　sacred　suggestion　that　attracted　me；　I　knew　not　why。　Of　some　I　was　fond　just　because　I　misunderstood　them；　and　of　these　I　made　a　free　version　in　my　mind；　as　I　murmured　them　over。　One　of　my　first　favorites　was　certainly　rather　a　singular　choice　for　a　child　of　three　or　four　years。　I　had　no　idea　of　its　meaning；　but　made　up　a　little　story　out　of　it；　with　myself　as　the　heroine。　It　began　with　the　words

〃Come；　humble　sinner；　in　whose　breast　A　thousand　thoughts　revolve。〃

The　second　stanza　read　thus：

〃I'll　go　to　Jesus；　though　my　sin　Hath　like　a　mountain　rose。〃

I　did　not　know　that　this　last　line　was　bad　grammar；　but　thought　that　the　sin　in　question　was　something　pretty；　that　looked　〃like　a　mountain　rose。〃　Mountains　I　had　never　seen；　they　were　a　glorious　dream　to　me。　And　a　rose　that　grew　on　a　mountain　must　surely　be　prettier　than　any　of　our　red　wild　roses　on　the　hill；　sweet　as　they　were。　I　would　pluck　that　rose；　and　carry　it　up　the　mountain…side　into　the　temple　where　the　King　sat；　and　would　give　it　to　Him；　and　then　He　would　touch　me　with　his　sceptre；　and　let　me　through　into　a　garden　full　of　flowers。　There　was　no　garden　in　the　hymn；　I　suppose　the　〃rose〃　made　me　invent　one。　But　it　did　read

〃I　know　his　courts；　I'll　enter　in；　Whatever　may　oppose；〃

and　so　I　fancied　there　would　be　lions　in　the　way；　as　there　were　in　the　Pilgrim's；　at　the　〃House　Beautiful〃；　but　I　should　not　be　afraid　of　them；　they　would　no　doubt　be　chained。　The　last　verse　began　with　the　lines；

〃I　can　but　perish　if　I　go：　I　am　resolved　to　try：〃

and　my　heart　beat　a　brave　echo　to　the　words；　as　I　started　off　in　fancy　on　a　〃Pilgrim's　Progress〃　of　my　own；　a　happy　little　dreamer；　telling　nobody　the　secret　of　my　imaginary　journey；　taken　in　sermon…time。

Usually；　the　hymns　for　which　I　cared　most　suggested　Nature　in　some　way；flowers；　trees；　skies；　and　stars。　When　I　repeated；

〃There　everlasting　spring　abides；　And　never…withering　flowers；〃　…

I　thought　of　the　faintly　flushed　anemones　and　white　and　blue　violets；　the　dear　little　short…lived　children　of　our　shivering　spring。　They　also　would　surely　be　found　in　that　heavenly　land；　blooming　on　through　the　cloudless；　endless　year。　And　I　seemed　to　smell　the　spiciness　of　bay　berry　and　sweet…fern　and　wild　roses　and　meadow…sweet　that　grew　in　fragrant　jungles　up　and　down　the　hillside　back　of　the　meeting…house；　in　another　verse　which　I　dearly　loved：

〃The　hill　of　Zion　yields　A　thousand　sacred　sweet；　Before　we　reach　the　heavenly　fields；　Or　walk　the　golden　streets。〃

We　were　allowed　to　take　a　little　nosegay　to　meeting　sometimes：　a　pink　or　two　（pinks　were　pink　then；　not　red；　nor　white；　nor　even　double）　and　a　sprig　of　camomile；　and　their　blended　perfume　still　seems　to　be　a　part　of　the　June　Sabbath　mornings　long　passed　away。

When　the　choir　sang　of　〃Seas　of　heavenly　rest；〃

a　breath　of　salt　wind　came　in　with　the　words　through　the　open　door；　from　the　sheltered　waters　of　the　bay；　so　softly　blue　and　so　lovely；　I　always　wondered　how　a　world　could　be　beautiful　where　〃there　was　no　more　sea。〃　I　concluded　that　the　hymn　and　the　text　could　not　really　contradict　other；　that　there　must　be　something　like　the　sea　in　heaven；　after　all。　One　stanza　that　I　used　to　croon　over；　gave　me　the　feeling　of　being　rocked　in　a　boat　on　a　strange　and　beautiful　ocean；　from　whose　far…off　shores　the　sunrise　beckoned：

〃At　anchor　laid；　remote　from　home；　Toiling　I　cry；　Sweet　Spirit；　come！　Celestial　breeze；　no　longer　stay！　But　spread　my　sails；　and　speed　my　way！〃

Some　of　the　chosen　hymns　of　my　infancy　the　world　recognizes　among　its　noblest　treasures　of　sacred　song。　That　one　of　Doddridge's；　beginning　with　〃Ye　golden　lamps　of　heaven；　farewell！〃

made　me　feel　as　if　I　had　just　been　gazing　in　at　some　window　of　the　〃many　mansions〃　above：

〃Ye　stars　are　but　the　shining　dust　Of　my　divine　abode…〃

Had　I　not　known　that；　ever　since　I　was　a　baby？　But　the　light　does　not　stream　down　even　into　a　baby　s　soul　with　equal　brightness　all　the　time。　Earth　draws　her　dark　curtains　too　soon　over　the　windows　of　heaven；　and　the　little　children　fall　asleep　in　her　dim　rooms；　and　forget　their　visions。

That　majestic　hymn　of　Cowper's；

〃God　moves　in　a　mysterious　way；〃

was　one　of　my　first　and　dearest。　It　reminded　me　of　the　rolling　of　thunder　through　the　sky；　and；　understood　as　little　as　the　thunder　itself；　which　my　mother　told　me　was　God's　voice；　so　that　I　bent　my　ear　and　listened；　expecting　to　hear　it　shaped　into　words；　it　still　did　give　me　an　idea　of　the　presence　of　One　Infinite　Being；　that　thrilled　me　with　rever