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！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
hers （and strange to remember now） that she would carry the child to the
Deil's Hags； sit with him on the Praying Weaver's stone； and talk of the
Covenanters till their tears ran down。 Her view of history was wholly
artless； a design in snow and ink； upon the one side； tender innocents
with psalms upon their lips； upon the other； the persecutors； booted；
bloody…minded； flushed with wine： a suffering Christ； a raging
Beelzebub。 PERSECUTOR was a word that knocked upon the woman's heart；
it was her highest thought of wickedness； and the mark of it was on her
house。 Her great…great…grandfather had drawn the sword against the
Lord's anointed on the field of Rullion Green； and breathed his last
（tradition said） in the arms of the detestable Dalyell。 Nor could she
blind herself to this； that had they lived in those old days； Hermiston
himself would have been numbered alongside of Bloody MacKenzie and the
politic Lauderdale and Rothes； in the band of God's immediate enemies。
The sense of this moved her to the more fervour； she had a voice for
that name of PERSECUTOR that thrilled in the child's marrow； and when
one day the mob hooted and hissed them all in my lord's travelling
carriage； and cried； 〃Down with the persecutor！ down with Hanging
Hermiston！〃 and mamma covered her eyes and wept； and papa let down the
glass and looked out upon the rabble with his droll formidable face；
bitter and smiling； as they said he sometimes looked when he gave
sentence； Archie was for the moment too much amazed to be alarmed； but
he had scarce got his mother by herself before his shrill voice was
raised demanding an explanation： why had they called papa a persecutor？
〃Keep me； my precious！〃 she exclaimed。 〃Keep me； my dear！ this is
poleetical。 Ye must never ask me anything poleetical； Erchie。 Your
faither is a great man； my dear； and it's no for me or you to be judging
him。 It would be telling us all； if we behaved ourselves in our several
stations the way your faither does in his high office； and let me hear
no more of any such disrespectful and undutiful questions！ No that you
meant to be undutiful； my lamb； your mother kens that … she kens it
well； dearie！〃 And so slid off to safer topics； and left on the mind of
the child an obscure but ineradicable sense of something wrong。
Mrs。 Weir's philosophy of life was summed in one expression …
tenderness。 In her view of the universe； which was all lighted up with
a glow out of the doors of hell； good people must walk there in a kind
of ecstasy of tenderness。 The beasts and plants had no souls； they were
here but for a day； and let their day pass gently！ And as for the
immortal men； on what black； downward path were many of them wending；
and to what a horror of an immortality！ 〃Are not two sparrows；〃
〃Whosoever shall smite thee；〃 〃God sendeth His rain；〃 〃Judge not； that
ye be not judged〃 … these texts made her body of divinity； she put them
on in the morning with her clothes and lay down to sleep with them at
night； they haunted her like a favourite air； they clung about her like
a favourite perfume。 Their minister was a marrowy expounder of the law；
and my lord sat under him with relish； but Mrs。 Weir respected him from
far off； heard him （like the cannon of a beleaguered city） usefully
booming outside on the dogmatic ramparts； and meanwhile； within and out
of shot； dwelt in her private garden which she watered with grateful
tears。 It seems strange to say of this colourless and ineffectual
woman； but she was a true enthusiast； and might have made the sunshine
and the glory of a cloister。 Perhaps none but Archie knew she could be
eloquent； perhaps none but he had seen her … her colour raised； her
hands clasped or quivering … glow with gentle ardour。 There is a corner
of the policy of Hermiston； where you come suddenly in view of the
summit of Black Fell； sometimes like the mere grass top of a hill；
sometimes （and this is her own expression） like a precious jewel in the
heavens。 On such days； upon the sudden view of it； her hand would
tighten on the child's fingers； her voice rise like a song。 〃I TO THE
HILLS！〃 she would repeat。 〃And O； Erchie； are nae these like the hills
of Naphtali？〃 and her tears would flow。
Upon an impressionable child the effect of this continual and pretty
accompaniment to life was deep。 The woman's quietism and piety passed
on to his different nature undiminished； but whereas in her it was a
native sentiment； in him it was only an implanted dogma。 Nature and the
child's pugnacity at times revolted。 A cad from the Potterrow once
struck him in the mouth； he struck back； the pair fought it out in the
back stable lane towards the Meadows； and Archie returned with a
considerable decline in the number of his front teeth； and
unregenerately boasting of the losses of the foe。 It was a sore day for
Mrs。 Weir； she wept and prayed over the infant backslider until my lord
was due from Court； and she must resume that air of tremulous composure
with which she always greeted him。 The judge was that day in an
observant mood； and remarked upon the absent teeth。
〃I am afraid Erchie will have been fechting with some of they blagyard
lads；〃 said Mrs。 Weir。
My lord's voice rang out as it did seldom in the privacy of his own
house。 〃I'll have norm of that； sir！〃 he cried。 〃Do you hear me？ …
nonn of that！ No son of mine shall be speldering in the glaur with any
dirty raibble。〃
The anxious mother was grateful for so much support； she had even feared
the contrary。 And that night when she put the child to bed … 〃Now； my
dear； ye see！〃 she said； 〃I told you what your faither would think of
it； if he heard ye had fallen into this dreidful sin； and let you and me
pray to God that ye may be keepit from the like temptation or
strengthened to resist it！〃
The womanly falsity of this was thrown away。 Ice and iron cannot be
welded； and the points of view of the Justice…Clerk and Mrs。 Weir were
not less unassimilable。 The character and position of his father had
long been a stumbling…block to Archie； and with every year of his age
the difficulty grew more instant。 The man was mostly silent； when he
spoke at all； it was to speak of the things of the world； always in a
worldly spirit； often in language that the child had been schooled to
think coarse； and sometimes with words that he knew to be sins in
themselves。 Tenderness was the first duty； and my lord was invariably
harsh。 God was love； the name of my lord （to all who knew him） was
fear。 In the world； as schematised for Archie by his mother； the place
was marked for such a creature。 There were some whom it was good to
pity and well （though very likely useless） to pray for； they were named
reprobates； goats； God's enemies； brands for the burning； and Archie
tallied every mark of identification； and drew the inevitable p