father and son-第32部分

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rangement；　which　was　wholly　matrimonial；　but　I　was　present；　and　the　exercise　made　more　impression　upon　me　than　it　did　upon　either　of　the　principal　agents。My　Father　read　the　verse　admirably；　with　a　full；some　people　（but　not　I）　might　say　with　a　too　fullperception　of　the　metre　as　well　as　of　the　rhythm；　rolling　out　the　rhymes；　and　glorying　in　the　proper　names。　He　began；　and　it　was　a　happy　choice；　with　'The　Lady　of　the　Lake'。　It　gave　me　singular　pleasure　to　hear　his　large　voice　do　justice　to　'Duncrannon'　and　'Cambus…　Kenneth'；　and　wake　the　echoes　with　'Rhoderigh　Vich　Alphine　dhu；　ho！　ieroe！'　I　almost　gasped　with　excitement；　while　a　shudder　floated　down　my　backbone；　when　we　came　to：

A　sharp　and　shrieking　echo　gave；　Coir…Uriskin；　thy　goblin　cave！　And　the　grey　pass　where　birches　wave；　On　Beala…nam…bo；

a　passage　which　seemed　to　me　to　achieve　the　ideal　of　sublime　romance。　My　thoughts　were　occupied　all　day　long　with　the　adventures　of　Fitzjames　and　the　denizens　of　Ellen's　Isle。　It　became　an　obsession；　and　when　I　was　asked　whether　I　remembered　the　name　of　the　cottage　where　the　minister　of　the　Bible　Christians　lodged；　I　answered；　dreamily；　'Yes；Bealanambo。'

Seeing　me　so　much　fascinated；　thrown　indeed　into　a　temporary　frenzy；　by　the　epic　poetry　of　Sir　Walter　Scott；　my　stepmother　asked　my　Father　whether　I　might　not　start　reading　the　Waverley　Novels。　But　he　refused　to　permit　this；　on　the　ground　that　those　tales　gave　false　and　disturbing　pictures　of　life；　and　would　lead　away　my　attention　from　heavenly　things。　I　do　not　fully　apprehend　what　distinction　he　drew　between　the　poems；　which　he　permitted；　and　the　novels；　which　he　refused。　But　I　suppose　he　regarded　a　work　in　verse　as　more　artificial；　and　therefore　less　likely　to　make　a　realistic　impression；　than　one　in　prose。　There　is　something　quaint　in　the　conscientious　scruple　which　allows　The　Lord　of　the　Isles　and　excludes　Rob　Roy。

But　stranger　still；　and　amounting　almost　to　a　whim；　was　his　sudden　decision　that；　although　I　might　not　touch　the　novels　of　Scott；　I　was　free　to　read　those　of　Dickens。　I　recollect　that　my　stepmother　showed　some　surprise　at　this；　and　that　my　Father　explained　to　her　that　Dickens　'exposes　the　passion　of　love　in　a　ridiculous　light。'　She　did　not　seem　to　follow　this　recommendation；　which　indeed　tends　to　the　ultra…subtle；　but　she　procured　for　me　a　copy　of　Pickwick；　by　which　I　was　instantly　and　gloriously　enslaved。　My　shouts　of　laughing　at　the　richer　passages　were　almost　scandalous；　and　led　to　my　being　reproved　for　disturbing　my　Father　while　engaged；　in　an　upper　room；　in　the　study　of　God's　Word。　I　must　have　expended　months　on　the　perusal　of　Pickwick；　for　I　used　to　rush　through　a　chapter；　and　then　read　it　over　again　very　slowly；　word　for　word；　and　then　shut　my　eyes　to　realize　the　figures　and　the　action。

I　suppose　no　child　will　ever　again　enjoy　that　rapture　of　unresisting　humorous　appreciation　of　'Pickwick'。　I　felt　myself　to　be　in　the　company　of　a　gentleman　so　extremely　funny　that　I　began　to　laugh　before　he　began　to　speak；　no　sooner　did　he　remark　'the　sky　was　dark　and　gloomy；　the　air　was　damp　and　raw；'　than　I　was　in　fits　of　hilarity。　My　retirement　in　our　sequestered　corner　of　life　made　me；　perhaps；　even　in　this　matter；　somewhat　old…fashioned；　and　possibly　I　was　the　latest　of　the　generation　who　accepted　Mr。　Pickwick　with　an　unquestioning　and　hysterical　abandonment。　Certainly　few　young　people　now　seem　sensitive；　as　I　was；　and　as　thousands　before　me　had　been；　to　the　quality　of　his　fascination。

It　was　curious　that　living　in　a　household　where　a　certain　delicate　art　of　painting　was　diligently　cultivated；　I　had　yet　never　seen　a　real　picture；　and　was　scarcely　familiar　with　the　design　of　one　in　engraving。　My　stepmother；　however；　brought　a　flavour　of　the　fine　arts　with　her；　a　kind　of　aesthetic　odour；　like　that　of　lavender；　clung　to　her　as　she　moved。　She　had　known　authentic　artists　in　her　youth；　she　had　watched　Old　Crome　painting；　and　had　taken　a　course　of　drawing…lessons　from　no　less　a　person　than　Cotman。　She　painted　small　watercolour　landscapes　herself；　with　a　delicate　economy　of　means　and　a　graceful　Norwich　convention；　her　sketch…books　were　filled　with　abbeys　gently　washed　in；　river…banks　in　sepia　by　which　the　elect　might　be　dimly　reminded　of　Liber　Studiorum；　and　woodland　scenes　over　which　the　ghost　of　Creswick　had　faintly　breathed。　It　was　not　exciting　art；　but　it　was；　so　far　as　it　went；　in　its　lady…like　reserve；　the　real　thing。　Our　seaanemones；　our　tropic　birds；　our　bits　of　spongy　rock　filled　and　sprayed　with　corallines；　had　been　very　conscientious　and　skilful；　but；　essentially；　so　far　as　art　was　concerned；　the　wrong　thing。

Thus　I　began　to　acquire；　without　understanding　the　value　of　it；　some　conception　of　the　elegant　phases　of　early　English　watercolour　painting；　and　there　was　one　singular　piece　of　a　marble　well　brimming　with　water；　and　a　greyish…blue　sky　over　it；　and　dark…green　poplars；　shaped　like　wet　brooms；　menacing　the　middle　distance；　which　Cotman　himself　had　painted；　and　this　seemed　beautiful　and　curious　to　me　in　its　dim；　flat　frame；　when　it　was　hoisted　to　a　place　on　our　drawing…room　wall。

But　still　I　had　never　seen　a　subject…picture；　although　my　stepmother　used　to　talk　of　the　joys　of　the　Royal　Academy；　and　it　was　therefore　with　a　considerable　sense　of　excitement　that　I　went；　with　my　Father；　to　examine　Mr。　Holman　Hunt's　Finding　of　Christ　in　the　Temple'　which　at　this　time　was　announced　to　be　on　public　show　at　our　neighbouring　town。　We　paid　our　shillings　and　ascended　with　others　to　an　upper　room；　bare　of　every　disturbing　object；　in　which　a　strong　top…light　raked　the　large　and　uncompromising　picture。　We　looked　at　it　for　some　time　in　silence；　and　then　my　Father　pointed　out　to　me　various　details；　such　as　the　phylacteries　and　the　mitres；　and　the　robes　which　distinguished　the　high　priest。

Some　of　the　other　visitors；　as　I　recollect；　expressed　astonishment　and　dislike　of　what　they　called　the　'Preraphaelite'　treatment；　but　we　were　not　affected　by　that。　Indeed；　if　anything；　the　exact；　minute　and　hard　execution　of　Mr。　Hunt　was　in　sympathy　with　the　methods　we　ourselves　were　in　the　habit　of　using　when　we　painted　butterflies　and　seaweeds；　placing　perfectly　pure　pigments　side　by　side；　without　any　nonsense　about　chiaroscuro。　This　large；　bright；　comprehensive　picture　made　a　very　deep　impression　upon　me；　not　exactly　as　a　work　of　art；　but　as　a　brilliant　natural　specimen。　I　was　pleased　to　have　seen　it；　as　I　was　pleased　to　have　seen　the　comet；　and　the　whale　which　was　brought　to　our　front　door　on　a　truck。　It　was　a　prominent　addition　to　my　experience。

The　slender　expansions　of　my　interest　which　were　now　budding　hither　and　thither　do　not　seem　to　have　alarmed　my　Father　at　all。　His　views　were　short；　if　I　appeared　to　be　contented　and　obedient；　if　I　responded　pleasantly　when　he　appealed　to　me；　he　was　not　concerned　to　discover　the　source　of　my　cheerfulness。　He　put　it　down　to　my　happy　sense　of　joy　in　Christ；　a　reflection　of　the　sunshine　of　grace　beaming　upon　me　through　no　intervening　clouds　of　sin　or　doubt。　The　'saints'　were；　as　a　rule；　very　easy　to　comprehend；　their　emotions　lay　upon　the　surface。　If　they　were　gay；　it　was　because　they　had　no　burden　on　their　consciences；　while；　if　they　were　depressed；　the　symptom　might　be　depended　upon　as　showing　that　their　consciences　were　troubling　them；　and　if　they　were　indifferent　and　cold；　it　was　certain　that　they　were　losing　their　faith　and　becoming　hostile　to　godliness。　It　was　almost　a　mechanical　matter　with　these　simple　souls。　But；　although　I　was　so　much　younger；　I　was　more　complex　and　more　crafty　than　the　peasant　'saints'。　My　Father；　not　a　very　subtle　psychologist；　applied　to　me　the　same　formulas　which　served　him　well　at　the　chapel；　but　in　my　case　the　results　were　less　uniformly　successful。

The　excitement　of　school…life　and　the　enlargement　of　my　circle　of　interests；　combined　to　make　Sunday；　by　contrast；　a　very　tedious　occasion。　The　absence　of　every　species　of　recreation　on　the　Lord's　Day　grew　to　be　a　burden　which　might　scarcely　be　borne。　I　have　said　that　my　freedom　during　the　week　had　now　become　considerable；　if　I　was　at　home　punctually　at　meal　times；　the　rest　of　my　leisure　was　not　challenged。　But　this　liberty；　which　in　the　summer　holidays　came　to　surpass　that　of　'fishes　that　tipple　in　the　deep'；　was　put　into　more　and　more　painful　contrast　with　the　unbroken　servitude　of　Sunday。

My　Father　objected　very　strongly　to　the　expression　Sabbath…day；　as　it　is　commonly　used　by　Presbyterians　and　others。　He　said；　quite　justly；　that　it　was　an　inaccurate　modern　innovation；　that　Sabbath　was　Saturday；　the　Seventh　day　of　the　week；　not　the　first；　a　Jewish　festival　and　not　a　Christian　commemoration。　Yet　his　exaggerated　view　with　regard　to　the　observance　of　the　First　Day；　namely；　that　it　must　be　exclusively　occupied　with　public　and　private　exercises　of　divine　worship；　was　based　much　more　upon　a　Jewish　than　upon　a　Christian　law。　In　fact；　I　do　not　remember　that　my　Father　ever　produced　a　definite　argument　from　the　New　Testament　in　support　of　his　excessive　passivity　on　the　Lord's　Day。　He　followed　the　early　Puritan　practice；　except　that　he　did　not　extend　his　observance；　as　I　believe　the　old　Puritans　did；　from　sunset　on　Saturday　to　sunset　on　Sunday。

The　observance　of　the　Lord's　Day　has　already　become　universally　so　lax　that　I　think　there　may　be　some　value　in　preserving　an　accurate　record　of　how　our　Sundays　were　spent　five　and　forty　years　ago。　We　came　down　to　breakfast　at　the　usual　time。　My　Father　prayed　briefly　before　we　began　the　meal；　after　it；　the　bell　was　rung；　and；　before　the　breakfast　was　cleared　away；　we　had　a　lengthy　service　of　exposition　and　prayer　with　the　servants。　If　the　weather　was　fine；　we　then　walked　about　the　garden；　doing　nothing；　for　about　half　an　hour。　We　then　sat；　each　in　a　separate　room；　with　our　Bibles　open　and　some　commentary　on　the　text　beside　us；　and　prepared　our　minds　for　the　morning　service。　A　little　before　11　a。m。　we　sallied　forth；　carrying　our　Bibles　and　hymn…　books；　and　went　through　the　morning…service　of　two　hours　at　the　Room；　this　was　the　central　event　of　Sunday。

We　then　came　back　to　dinner；curiously　enough　to　a　hot　dinner；　always；　with　a　joint；　vegetables　and　puddings；　so　that　the　cook　at　least　must　have　been　busily　at　work；and　after　it　my　Fa