the professor at the breakfast table-第39章

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about　him。



The　night　after　my　visit　to　the　young　man　John；　I　made　all　these　and

many　more　reflections。　　It　was　about　two　o'clock　in　the　morning；

bright　starlight；so　light　that　I　could　make　out　the　time　on　my

alarm…clock；when　I　woke　up　trembling　and　very　moist。　　It　was　the

heavy　dragging　sound；　as　I　had　often　heard　it　before　that　waked　me。

Presently　a　window　was　softly　closed。　　I　had　just　begun　to　get　over

the　agitation　with　which　we　always　awake　from　nightmare　dreams；　when

I　heard　the　sound　which　seemed　to　me　as　of　a　woman's　voice；the

clearest；　purest　soprano　which　one　could　well　conceive　of。　　It　was

not　loud；　and　I　could　not　distinguish　a　word；　if　it　was　a　woman's

voice；　but　there　were　recurring　phrases　of　sound　and　snatches　of

rhythm　that　reached　me；　which　suggested　the　idea　of　complaint；　and

sometimes；　I　thought；　of　passionate　grief　and　despair。　　It　died　away

at　last；and　then　I　heard　the　opening　of　a　door；　followed　by　a　low；

monotonous　sound；　as　of　one　talking；and　then　the　closing　of　a

door；and　presently　the　light　on　the　opposite　wall　disappeared　and

all　was　still　for　the　night。



By　George！　　this　gets　interesting；I　said；　as　I　got　out　of　bed　for

a　change　of　night…clothes。



I　had　this　in　my　pocket　the　other　day；　but　thought　I　would　n't　read

it　at　our　celebration。　　So　I　read　it　to　the　boarders　instead；　and

print　it　to　finish　off　this　record　with。





　　　　　　　　　　ROBINSON　OF　LEYDEN。



He　sleeps　not　here；　in　hope　and　prayer

His　wandering　flock　had　gone　before；

But　he；　the　shepherd；　might　not　share

Their　sorrows　on　the　wintry　shore。



Before　the　Speedwell's　anchor　swung；

Ere　yet　the　Mayflower's　sail　was　spread；

While　round　his　feet　the　Pilgrims　clung；

The　pastor　spake；　and　thus　he　said：



〃Men；　brethren；　sisters；　children　dear！

God　calls　you　hence　from　over　sea；

Ye　may　not　build　by　Haerlem　Meer；

Nor　yet　along　the　Zuyder…Zee。



〃Ye　go　to　bear　the　saving　word

To　tribes　unnamed　and　shores　untrod：

Heed　well　the　lessons　ye　have　heard

》From　those　old　teachers　taught　of　God。



〃Yet　think　not　unto　them　was　lent

All　light　for　all　the　coming　days；

And　Heaven's　eternal　wisdom　spent

In　making　straight　the　ancient　ways。



〃The　living　fountain　overflows

For　every　flock；　for　every　lamb；

Nor　heeds；　though　angry　creeds　oppose

With　Luther's　dike　or　Calvin's　dam。〃



He　spake；　with　lingering；　long　embrace；

With　tears　of　love　and　partings　fond；

They　floated　down　the　creeping　Maas；

Along　the　isle　of　Ysselmond。



They　passed　the　frowning　towers　of　Briel；

The　〃Hook　of　Holland's〃　shelf　of　sand；

And　grated　soon　with　lifting　keel

The　sullen　shores　of　Fatherland。



No　home　for　these！　too　well　they　knew

The　mitred　king　behind　the　throne；

The　sails　were　set；　the　pennons　flew；

And　westward　ho！　　for　worlds　unknown。



And　these　were　they　who　gave　us　birth；

The　Pilgrims　of　the　sunset　wave；

Who　won　for　us　this　virgin　earth；

And　freedom　with　the　soil　they　gave。



The　pastor　slumbers　by　the　Rhine；

In　alien　earth　the　exiles　lie；

Their　nameless　graves　our　holiest　shrine；

His　words　our　noblest　battle…cry！



Still　cry　them；　and　the　world　shall　hear；

Ye　dwellers　by　the　storm…swept　sea！

Ye　have　not　built　by　Haerlem　Meer；

Nor　on　the　land…locked　Zuyder…Zee！









VIII



There　has　been　a　sort　of　stillness　in　the　atmosphere　of　our

boarding…house　since　my　last　record；　as　if　something　or　other　were

going　on。　　There　is　no　particular　change　that　I　can　think　of　in　the

aspect　of　things；　yet　I　have　a　feeling　as　if　some　game　of　life　were

quietly　playing　and　strange　forces　were　at　work；　underneath　this

smooth　surface　of　every…day　boardinghouse　life；　which　would　show

themselves　some　fine　morning　or　other　in　events；　if　not　in

catastrophes。　　I　have　been　watchful；　as　I　said　I　should　be；　but　have

little　to　tell　as　yet。　　You　may　laugh　at　me；　and　very　likely　think

me　foolishly　fanciful　to　trouble　myself　about　what　is　going　on　in　a

middling…class　household　like　ours。　　Do　as　you　like。　　But　here　is

that　terrible　fact　to　begin　with；a　beautiful　young　girl；　with　the

blood　and　the　nerve…fibre　that　belong　to　Nature's　women；　turned

loose　among　live　men。



…Terrible　fact？



Very　terrible。　　Nothing　more　so。　　Do　you　forget　the　angels　who　lost

heaven　for　the　daughters　of　men？　　Do　you　forget　Helen；　and　the　fair

women　who　made　mischief　and　set　nations　by　the　ears　before　Helen　was

born？　　If　jealousies　that　gnaw　men's　hearts　out　of　their　bodies；if

pangs　that　waste　men　to　shadows　and　drive　them　into　raving　madness

or　moping　melancholy；if　assassination　and　suicide　are　dreadful

possibilities；　then　there　is　always　something　frightful　about　a

lovely　young　woman。　I　love　to　look　at　this　〃Rainbow；〃　as　her

father　used　sometimes　to　call　her；　of　ours。　　Handsome　creature　that

she　is　in　forms　and　colors；the　very　picture；　as　it　seems　to　me；　of

that　〃golden　blonde〃　my　friend　whose　book　you　read　last　year　fell　in

love　with　when　he　was　a　boy；　（as　you　remember；　no　doubt；）handsome

as　she　is；　fit　for　a　sea…king's　bride；　it　is　not　her　beauty　alone

that　holds　my　eyes　upon　her。　　Let　me　tell　you　one　of　my　fancies；　and

then　you　will　understand　the　strange　sort　of　fascination　she　has　for

me。



It　is　in　the　hearts　of　many　men　and　womenlet　me　add　childrenthat

there　is　a　Great　Secret　waiting　for　them；a　secret　of　which　they

get　hints　now　and　then；　perhaps　oftener　in　early　than　in　later

years。　　These　hints　come　sometimes　in　dreams；　sometimes　in　sudden

startling　flashes；second　wakings；　as　it　were；a　waking　out　of　the

waking　state；　which　last　is　very　apt　to　be　a　half…sleep。　　I　have

many　times　stopped　short　and　held　my　breath；　and　felt　the　blood

leaving　my　cheeks；　in　one　of　these　sudden　clairvoyant　flashes。　　Of

course　I　cannot　tell　what　kind　of　a　secret　this　is；　but　I　think　of

it　as　a　disclosure　of　certain　relations　of　our　personal　being　to

time　and　space；　to　other　intelligences；　to　the　procession　of　events；

and　to　their　First　Great　Cause。　　This　secret　seems　to　be　broken　up；

as　it　were；　into　fragments；　so　that　we　find　here　a　word　and　there　a

syllable；　and　then　again　only　a　letter　of　it；　but　it　never　is

written　out　for　most　of　us　as　a　complete　sentence；　in　this　life。　　I

do　not　think　it　could　be；　for　I　am　disposed　to　consider　our　beliefs

about　such　a　possible　disclosure　rather　as　a　kind　of　premonition　of

an　enlargement　of　our　faculties　in　some　future　state　than　as　an

expectation　to　be　fulfilled　for　most　of　us　in　this　life。　　Persons；

however；　have　fallen　into　trances；as　did　the　Reverend　William

Tennent；　among　many　others；and　learned　some　things　which　they

could　not　tell　in　our　human　words。



Now　among　the　visible　objects　which　hint　to　us　fragments　of　this

infinite　secret　for　which　our　souls　are　waiting；　the　faces　of　women

are　those　that　carry　the　most　legible　hieroglyphics　of　the　great

mystery。　　There　are　women's　faces；　some　real；　some　ideal；　which

contain　something　in　them　that　becomes　a　positive　element　in　our

creed；　so　direct　and　palpable　a　revelation　is　it　of　the　infinite

purity　and　love。　　I　remember　two　faces　of　women　with　wings；　such　as

they　call　angels；　of　Fra　Angelico；and　I　just　now　came　across　a

print　of　Raphael's　Santa　Apollina；　with　something　of　the　same

quality；which　I　was　sure　had　their　prototypes　in　the　world　above

ours。　　No　wonder　the　Catholics　pay　their　vows　to　the　Queen　of

Heaven！　　The　unpoetical　side　of　Protestantism　is；　that　it　has　no

women　to　be　worshipped。



But　mind　you；　it　is　not　every　beautiful　face　that　hints　the　Great

Secret　to　us；　nor　is　it　only　in　beautiful　faces　that　we　find　traces

of　it。　　Sometimes　it　looks　out　from　a　sweet　sad　eye；　the　only　beauty

of　a　plain　countenance；　sometimes　there　is　so　much　meaning　in　the

lips　of　a　woman；　not　otherwise　fascinating；　that　we　know　they　have　a

message　for　us；　and　wait　almost　with　awe　to　hear　their　accents。　　But

this　young　girl　has　at　once　the　beauty　of　feature　and　the　unspoken

mystery　of　expression