robert falconer-第90部分

快捷操作: 按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页 按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页 按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部! 如果本书没有阅读完，想下次继续接着阅读，可使用上方 "收藏到我的浏览器" 功能 和 "加入书签" 功能！


and　began　to　climb　towards　a　mountain　village　of　which　he　had　heard

from　a　traveller；　to　find　solitude　and　freedom　in　an　air　as　lofty　as

if　he　climbed　twelve　of　his　beloved　cathedral　spires　piled　up　in

continuous　ascent。



After　ascending　for　hours　in　zigzags　through　pine　woods；　where　the

only　sound　was　of　the　little　streams　trotting　down　to　the　valley

below；　or　the　distant　hush　of　some　thin　waterfall；　he　reached　a

level；　and　came　out　of　the　woods。　　The　path　now　led　along　the　edge

of　a　precipice　descending　sheer　to　the　uppermost　terrace　of　the

valley　he　had　left。　　The　valley　was　but　a　cleft　in　the　mass　of　the

mountain：　a　little　way　over　sank　its　other　wall；　steep　as　a

plumb…line　could　have　made　it；　of　solid　rock。　　On　his　right　lay

green　fields　of　clover　and　strange　grasses。　　Ever　and　anon　from　the

cleft　steamed　up　great　blinding　clouds　of　mist；　which　now　wandered

about　over　the　nations　of　rocks　on　the　mountain　side　beyond　the

gulf；　now　wrapt　himself　in　their　bewildering　folds。　　In　one　moment

the　whole　creation　had　vanished；　and　there　seemed　scarce　existence

enough　left　for　more　than　the　following　footstep；　the　next；　a　mighty

mountain　stood　in　front；　crowned　with　blinding　snow；　an　awful　fact；

the　lovely　heavens　were　over　his　head；　and　the　green　sod　under　his

feet；　the　grasshoppers　chirped　about　him；　and　the　gorgeous

butterflies　flew。　　From　regions　far　beyond　came　the　bells　of　the

kine　and　the　goats。　　He　reached　a　little　inn；　and　there　took　up　his

quarters。



I　am　able　to　be　a　little　minute　in　my　description；　because　I　have

since　visited　the　place　myself。　　Great　heights　rise　around　it　on　all

sides。　　It　stands　as　between　heaven　and　hell；　suspended　between

peaks　and　gulfs。　　The　wind　must　roar　awfully　there　in　the　winter；

but　the　mountains　stand　away　with　their　avalanches；　and　all　the

summer　long　keep　the　cold　off　the　grassy　fields。



The　same　evening；　he　was　already　weary。　　The　next　morning　it　rained。

It　rained　fiercely　all　day。　　He　would　leave　the　place　on　the

morrow。　　In　the　evening　it　began　to　clear　up。　　He　walked　out。　　The

sun　was　setting。　　The　snow…peaks　were　faintly　tinged　with　rose；　and

the　ragged　masses　of　vapour　that　hung　lazy　and　leaden…coloured　about

the　sides　of　the　abyss；　were　partially　dyed　a　sulky　orange　red。

Then　all　faded　into　gray。　　But　as　the　sunlight　vanished；　a　veil

sank　from　the　face　of　the　moon；　already　half…way　to　the　zenith；　and

she　gathered　courage　and　shone；　till　the　mountain　looked　lovely　as　a

ghost　in　the　gleam　of　its　snow　and　the　glimmer　of　its　glaciers。

'Ah！'　thought　Falconer；　'such　a　peace　at　last　is　all　a　man　can　look

forthe　repose　of　a　spectral　Elysium；　a　world　where　passion　has

died　away；　and　only　the　dim　ghost　of　its　memory　to　disturb　with　a

shadowy　sorrow　the　helpless　content　of　its　undreaming　years。　　The

religion　that　can　do　but　this　much　is　not　a　very　great　or　very

divine　thing。　　The　human　heart　cannot　invent　a　better　it　may　be；　but

it　can　imagine　grander　results。



He　did　not　yet　know　what　the　religion　was　of　which　he　spoke。　　As

well　might　a　man　born　stone…deaf　estimate　the　power　of　sweet　sounds；

or　he　who　knows　not　a　square　from　a　circle　pronounce　upon　the　study

of　mathematics。



The　next　morning　rose　brilliantan　ideal　summer　day。　　He　would　not

go　yet；　he　would　spend　one　day　more　in　the　place。　　He　opened　his

valise　to　get　some　lighter　garments。　　His　eye　fell　on　a　New

Testament。　　Dr。　Anderson　had　put　it　there。　　He　had　never　opened　it

yet；　and　now　he　let　it　lie。　　Its　time　had　not　yet　come。　　He　went

out。



Walking　up　the　edge　of　the　valley；　he　came　upon　a　little　stream

whose　talk　he　had　heard　for　some　hundred　yards。　　It　flowed　through　a

grassy　hollow；　with　steeply　sloping　sides。　　Water　is　the　same　all

the　world　over；　but　there　was　more　than　water　here　to　bring　his

childhood　back　to　Falconer。　　For　at　the　spot　where　the　path　led　him

down　to　the　burn；　a　little　crag　stood　out　from　the　bank；a　gray

stone　like　many　he　knew　on　the　stream　that　watered　the　valley　of

Rothieden：　on　the　top　of　the　stone　grew　a　little　heather；　and　beside

it；　bending　towards　the　water；　was　a　silver　birch。　　He　sat　down　on

the　foot　of　the　rock；　shut　in　by　the　high　grassy　banks　from　the　gaze

of　the　awful　mountains。　　The　sole　unrest　was　the　run　of　the　water

beside　him；　and　it　sounded　so　homely；　that　he　began　to　jabber　Scotch

to　it。　　He　forgot　that　this　stream　was　born　in　the　clouds；　far　up

where　that　peak　rose　into　the　air　behind　him；　he　did　not　know　that　a

couple　of　hundred　yards　from　where　he　sat；　it　tumbled　headlong　into

the　valley　below：　with　his　country's　birch…tree　beside　him；　and　the

rock　crowned　with　its　tuft　of　heather　over　his　head；　the　quiet　as　of

a　Sabbath　afternoon　fell　upon　himthat　quiet　which　is　the　one

altogether　lovely　thing　in　the　Scotch　Sabbathand　once　more　the

words　arose　in　his　mind；　'My　peace　I　give　unto　you。'



Now　he　fell　a…thinking　what　this　peace　could　be。　　And　it　came　into

his　mind　as　he　thought；　that　Jesus　had　spoken　in　another　place　about

giving　rest　to　those　that　came　to　him；　while　here　he　spoke　about　'my

peace。'　　Could　this　my　mean　a　certain　kind　of　peace　that　the　Lord

himself　possessed？　　Perhaps　it　was　in　virtue　of　that　peace；　whatever

it　was；　that　he　was　the　Prince　of　Peace。　　Whatever　peace　he　had　must

be　the　highest　and　best　peacetherefore　the　one　peace　for　a　man　to

seek；　if　indeed；　as　the　words　of　the　Lord　seemed　to　imply；　a　man　was

capable　of　possessing　it。　　He　remembered　the　New　Testament　in　his

box；　and；　resolving　to　try　whether　he　could　not　make　something　more

out　of　it；　went　back　to　the　inn　quieter　in　heart　than　since　he　left

his　home。　　In　the　evening　he　returned　to　the　brook；　and　fell　to

searching　the　story；　seeking　after　the　peace　of　Jesus。



He　found　that　the　whole　passage　stood　thus：



'Peace　I　leave　with　you；　my　peace　I　give　unto　you：　not　as　the　world

giveth　give　I　unto　you。　　Let　not　your　heart　be　troubled；　neither　let

it　be　afraid。'



He　did　not　leave　the　place　for　six　weeks。　　Every　day　he　went　to　the

burn；　as　he　called　it；　with　his　New　Testament；　every　day　tried　yet

again　to　make　out　something　more　of　what　the　Saviour　meant。　　By　the

end　of　the　month　it　had　dawned　upon　him；　he　hardly　knew　how；　that

the　peace　of　Jesus　（although；　of　course；　he　could　not　know　what　it

was　like　till　he　had　it）　must　have　been　a　peace　that　came　from　the

doing　of　the　will　of　his　Father。　　From　the　account　he　gave　of　the

discoveries　he　then　made；　I　venture　to　represent　them　in　the　driest

and　most　exact　form　that　I　can　find　they　will　admit　of。　　When　I　use

the　word　discoveries；　I　need　hardly　say　that　I　use　it　with　reference

to　Falconer　and　his　previous　knowledge。　　They　were　these：that

Jesus　taught



First；That　a　man's　business　is　to　do　the　will　of　God：



Second；That　God　takes　upon　himself　the　care　of　the　man：



Third；Therefore；　that　a　man　must　never　be　afraid　of　anything；

and　so；



Fourth；be　left　free　to　love　God　with　all　his　heart；　and　his

neighbour　as　himself。



But　one　day；　his　thoughts　having　cleared　themselves　a　little　upon

these　points；　a　new　set　of　questions　arose　with　sudden

inundationcomprised　in　these　two：



'How　can　I　tell　for　certain　that　there　ever　was　such　a　man？　　How　am

I　to　be　sure　that　such　as　he　says　is　the　mind　of　the　maker　of　these

glaciers　and　butterflies？'



All　this　time　he　was　in　the　wilderness　as　much　as　Moses　at　the　back

of　Horeb；　or　St。　Paul　when　he　vanishes　in　Arabia：　and　he　did　nothing

but　read　the　four　gospels　and　ponder　over　them。　　Therefore　it　is　not

surprising　that　he　should　have　already　become　so　familiar　with　the

gospel　story；　that　the　moment　these　questions　appeared；　the

following　words　should　dart　to　the　forefront　of　his　consciousness　to

meet　them：



'If　any　man　will　do　his　will；　he　shall　know　of　the　doctrine；　whether

it　be　of　God；　or　whether　I　speak　of　myself。'



Here　was　a　word　of　Jesus　himself；　announcing　the　one　means　of

arriving　at　a　conviction　of　the　truth　or　falsehood　of　all　that　he

said；　namely；　the　doing　of　the　will　of　God　by　the　man　who　would

arrive　at　such　conviction。



The　next　question　naturally　was：　What　is　this　will　of　God　of　which

Jesus　speaks？　　Here　he　found　himself　in　difficulty。　　The　theology　of

his　grandmother　rushed　in　upon　him；　threatening　to　overwhelm　him

with　demands　as　to　feeling　and　inward　action　from　which　his　soul

turned　with　sickness　and　fainting。　　That　they　were　repulsive　to　him；

that　they　appeared　unreal；　and　contradictory　to　the　nature　around

him；　was　no　proof　that　they　were　not　of　God。　But　on　the　other　hand；

that　they　demanded　what　seemed　to　him　unjust；that　these　demands

were　founded　on　what　seemed　to　him　untruth　attributed　to　God；　on

ways　of　thinking　and　feeling　which　are　certainly　degrading　in　a

man；these　were　reasons　of　the　very　highest　nature　for　refusing　to

act　upon　them　so　long　as；　from　whatever　defects　it　might　be　in

himself；　they　bore　to　him　this　aspect。　　He　saw　that　while　they

appe