第 12 节
作者:温暖寒冬      更新:2024-04-09 19:50      字数:9283
  leave    your    own    country    and   kindred。     Do   nothing    without     the
  Lord’s clear bidding。 It’s a bleak and barren country there; not like
  this land of Goshen you’ve been used to。 We mustn’t be in a hurry
  to fix and choose our own lot; we must wait to be guided。”
  “But    you’d    let  me    write   you   a   letter;  Dinah;    if  there   was
  anything I wanted to tell you?”
  “Yes;    sure;   let  me   know    if  you’re   in  any   trouble。    You’ll   be
  continually in my prayers。”
  George Eliot                                                         ElecBook Classics
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  Adam Bede                                        49
  They had now reached the yard…gate; and Seth said; “I won’t go
  in;   Dinah;   so   farewell。”   He   paused   and   hesitated   after   she   had
  given him her hand; and then said; “There’s no knowing but what
  you   may   see   things   different  after   a   while。   There   may   be   a   new
  leading。”
  “Let   us   leave   that;   Seth。   It’s   good   to   live   only   a   moment   at   a
  time; as I’ve read in one of Mr。 Wesley’s books。 It isn’t for you and
  me   to   lay   plans;   we’ve   nothing   to   do   but   to   obey   and   to   trust。
  Farewell。”
  Dinah   pressed   his   hand   with   rather   a   sad   look   in   her   loving
  eyes; and then passed through the gate; while Seth turned away to
  walk   lingeringly   home。   But   instead   of   taking   the   direct   road;   he
  chose   to  turn   back along  the   fields   through  which   he   and   Dinah
  had   already  passed; and   I   think   his   blue  linen   handkerchief   was
  very wet  with tears long before he   had   made   up   his mind   that  it
  was time for him to set his face   steadily  homewards。  He   was but
  three…and…twenty; and had only just learned what it is to love—to
  love   with   that   adoration   which   a   young   man   gives   to   a   woman
  whom he feels to be greater and better than himself。 Love of this
  sort   is   hardly   distinguishable   from   religious   feeling。   What   deep
  and worthy love is so; whether of woman or child; or art or music。
  Our     caresses;     our   tender     words;     our   still  rapture     under     the
  influence   of  autumn   sunsets;   or   pillared   vistas;   or   calm   majestic
  statues;     or   Beethoven        symphonies        all  bring     with    them     the
  consciousness         that   they    are   mere     waves     and     ripples    in   an
  unfathomable ocean of love and beauty; our emotion in its keenest
  moment passes from expression into silence; our love at its highest
  flood rushes beyond its object and loses itself in the sense of divine
  mystery。 And this blessed gift of venerating love has been given to
  George Eliot                                                           ElecBook Classics
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  Adam Bede                                       50
  too  many  humble craftsmen   since   the   world   began   for   us   to   feel
  any surprise that it should have existed in the soul of a Methodist
  carpenter half a century ago; while there was yet a lingering after…
  glow   from   the   time   when   Wesley   and   his   fellow…labourer   fed   on
  the hips and haws of the Cornwall hedges; after exhausting limbs
  and lungs in carrying a divine message to the poor。
  That after…glow has long faded away; and the picture we are apt
  to make of Methodism in our imagination is not an amphitheatre
  of green hills; or the deep shade of broad…leaved sycamores; where
  a crowd of rough men and weary…hearted women drank in a faith
  which   was      a  rudimentary       culture;   which   linked     their   thoughts
  with  the   past;   lifted   their  imagination above   the   sordid  details  of
  their own narrow lives; and suffused their souls with the sense of a
  pitying;     loving;    infinite    Presence;      sweet    as   summer       to   the
  houseless   needy。   It   is    too   possible   that   to   some   of   my   readers
  Methodism   may   mean   nothing   more   than   low…pitched   gables   up
  dingy streets; sleek grocers; sponging preachers; and hypocritical
  jargon—elements which are regarded as an exhaustive analysis of
  Methodism in many fashionable quarters。
  That would be a pity; for I cannot pretend that Seth and Dinah
  were   anything   else   than   Methodists—not   indeed   of   that   modern
  type   which   reads   quarterly   reviews   and   attends   in   chapels   with
  pillared porticoes; but of a very old…fashioned kind。 They believed
  in   present   miracles;   in   instantaneous   conversions;   in   revelations
  by    dreams     and   visions;    they   drew    lots;  and   sought    for  Divine
  guidance by  opening  the   Bible at  hazard;   having  a literal  way   of
  interpreting       the  Scriptures;     which     is  not  at  all  sanctioned      by
  approved commentators; and it is impossible for me to  represent
  their   diction   as   correct;   or   their   instruction   as   liberal。   Still—if   I
  George Eliot                                                         ElecBook Classics
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  Adam Bede                                        51
  have   read   religious   history   aright—faith;   hope;   and   charity   have
  not   always   been   found   in   a   direct   ratio   with   a   sensibility   to   the
  three   concords;   and   it   is   possible—thank   Heaven!—to   have   very
  erroneous       theories    and    very   sublime      feelings。   The    raw    bacon
  which   clumsy   Molly   spares   from   her   own   scanty   store   that   she
  may carry it to her neighbour’s child to  “stop   the   fits;” may be   a
  piteously      inefficacious      remedy;      but   the    generous      stirring    of
  neighbourly   kindness   that   prompted   the   deed   has   a   beneficent
  radiation that is not lost。
  Considering these things; we can hardly think Dinah and Seth
  beneath our sympathy; accustomed as we may be to weep over the
  loftier   sorrows   of   heroines   in   satin   boots      and   crinoline;    and   of
  heroes   riding   fiery   horses;   themselves   ridden   by   still   more   fiery
  passions。
  Poor Seth! He was never on horseback in his life except once;
  when   he   was   a   little   lad;   and   Mr。   Jonathan   Burge   took   him   up
  behind; telling him to “hold on tight”; and instead of bursting out
  into wild accusing apostrophes to God and destiny; he is resolving;
  as he now walks homewards under the solemn starlight; to repress
  his   sadness;   to   be   less   bent   on   having   his   own   will;   and   to   live
  more for others; as Dinah does。
  George Eliot                                                           ElecBook Classics
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  Adam Bede                                      52
  Chapter IV
  Home and Its Sorrows
  green valley with a brook running  through  it;   full   almost
  Ato             overflowing     with    the   late   rains;   overhung     by   low
  stooping willows。 Across this brook a plank is thrown; and
  over  this   plank   Adam   Bede   is   passing   with   his   undoubting   step;
  followed close by Gyp with the basket; evidently making his way to
  the thatched house; with a stack of timber by the side of it; about
  twenty yards up the opposite slope。
  The door of the house is open; and an elderly woman is looking
  out;   but   she   is   not   placidly   contemplating   the   evening   sunshine;
  she    has   been   watching     with    dim   eyes   the   gradually    enlarging
  speck which for the last few minutes she has been quite sure is her
  darling son Adam。 Lisbeth Bede loves   her  son   with  the   love   of  a
  woman   to   whom   her   first…born   has   come   late   in   life。   She   is   an
  anxious; spare; yet vigorous old woman; clean as a snowdrop。 Her
  grey hair is turned neatly back under a pure linen cap with a black
  band round it; her broad chest is covered with a buff neckerchief;
  and   below   this   you   see   a   sort   of   short   bed…gown   made   of   blue…
  checkered linen; tied round the waist and descending to the hips;
  from     whence     there   is  a  considerable      length    of  linsey…woolsey
  petticoat。   For   Lisbeth   is   tall;   and   in   other   points   too   there   is   a
  strong likeness between her and her son Adam。 Her dark eyes are
  somewhat        dim   now—perhaps         from    too  much     crying—but       her
  broadly marked eyebrows are still black; her teeth are sound; and
  as   she   stands   knitt