father and son-第43章
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on； interesting hints about rural matters； and I liked him； although I felt his company to be insipid。 Sometimes he carried my books by my side to the larger and more distant school which I now attended； but I was always in a fever of dread lest my schoolfellows should see him； and should accuse me of having to be 'brought' to school。 To explain to them that the companionship of this wholesome and rather blunt young peasant was part of my spiritual discipline would have been all beyond my powers。
It was soon after this that my stepmother made her one vain effort to break though the stillness of our lives。 My Father's energy seemed to decline； to become more fitful； to take unseasonable directions。 My mother instinctively felt that his peculiarities were growing upon him； he would scarcely stir from his microscope； except to go to the chapel； and he was visible to fewer and fewer visitors。 She had taken a pleasure in his literary eminence； and she was aware that this； too； would slip from him； that； so persistently kept out of sight； he must soon be out of mind。 I know not how she gathered courage for her tremendous effort； but she took me； I recollect； into her counsels。 We were to unite to oblige my Father to start to his feet and face the world。 Alas！ we might as well have attempted to rouse the summit of Yes Tor into volcanic action。 To my mother's arguments； my Fatherwith that baffling smile of hisreplied： 'I esteem the reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures of Egypt！' and that this answer was indirect made it none the less conclusive。 My mother wished him to give lectures； to go to London； to read papers before the Royal Society； to enter into controversy with foreign savants； to conduct classes of outdoor zoology at fashionable watering…places。 I held my breath with admiration as she poured forth her scheme； so daring； so brilliant； so sure to cover our great man with glory。 He listened to her with an ambiguous smile； and shook his head at us； and resumed the reading of his Bible。
At the date of which I write these pages； the arts of illustration are so universally diffused that it is difficult to realize the darkness in which a remote English village was plunged half a century ago。 No opportunity was offered to us dwellers in remote places of realizing the outward appearances of unfamiliar persons； scenes or things。 Although ours was perhaps the most cultivated household in the parish； I had never seen so much as a representation of a work of sculpture until I was thirteen。 My mother then received from her earlier home certain volumes； among which was a gaudy gift…book of some kind； containing a few steel engravings of statues。
These attracted me violently； and here for the first time I gazed on Apollo with his proud gesture； Venus in her undulations； the kirtled shape of Diana； and Jupiter voluminously bearded。 Very little information； and that tome not intelligible； was given in the text； but these were said to be figures of the old Greek gods。 I asked my Father to tell me about these 'old Greek gods'。 His answer was direct and disconcerting。 He saidhow I recollect the place and time； early in the morning； as I stood beside the window in our garish breakfast…roomhe said that the so…called gods of the Greeks were the shadows cast by the vices of the heathen； and reflected their infamous lives； 'it was for such things as these that God poured down brimstone and fire on the Cities of the Plain； and there is nothing in the legends of these gods； or rather devils； that it is not better for a Christian not to know。' His face blazed white with Puritan fury as he said thisI see him now in my mind's eye； in his violent emotion。 You might have thought that he had himself escaped with horror from some Hellenic hippodrome。
My Father's prestige was by this time considerably lessened in my mind； and though I loved and admired him； I had now long ceased to hold him infallible。 I did not accept his condemnation of the Greeks； although I bowed to it。 In private I returned to examine my steel engravings of the statues； and I reflected that they were too beautiful to be so wicked as my Father thought they were。 The dangerous and pagan notion that beauty palliates evil budded in my mind； without any external suggestion； and by this reflection alone I was still further sundered from the faith in which I had been trained。 I gathered very diligently all I could pick up about the Greek gods and their statues； it was not much； it was indeed ludicrously little and false； but it was a germ。 And at this aesthetic juncture I was drawn into what was really rather an extraordinary circle of incidents。
Among the 'Saints' in our village there lived a shoemaker and his wife； who had one daughter； Susan Flood。 She was a flighty； excited young creature； and lately； during the passage of some itinerary revivalists； she had been 'converted' in the noisiest way； with sobs； gasps and gurglings。 When this crisis passed； she came with her parents to our meetings； and was received quietly enough to the breaking of bread。 But about the time I speak of； Susan Flood went up to London to pay a visit to an unconverted uncle and aunt。 It was first whispered amongst us； and then openly stated； that these relatives had taken her to the Crystal Palace； where； in passing through the Sculpture Gallery； Susan's sense of decency had been so grievously affronted； that she had smashed the naked figures with the handle of her parasol； before her horrified companions could stop her。 She had； in fact； run amok among the statuary； and had； to the intense chagrin of her uncle and aunt； very worthy persons； been arrested and brought before a magistrate； who dismissed her with a warning to her relations that she had better be sent home to Devonshire and 'looked after'。 Susan Flood's return to us； however； was a triumph； she had no sense of having acted injudiciously or unbecomingly； she was ready to recount to every one； in vague and veiled language； how she had been able to testify for the Lord 'in the very temple of Belial'； for so she poetically described the Crystal Palace。 She was； of course； in a state of unbridled hysteria； but such physical explanations were not encouraged amongst us； and the case of Susan Flood awakened a great deal of sympathy。
There was held a meeting of the elders in our drawing…room to discuss it； and I contrived to be present； though out of observation。 My Father； while he recognized the purity of Susan Flood's zeal； questioned its wisdom。 He noted that the statuary was not her property； but that of the Crystal Palace。 Of the other communicants； none； I think； had the very slightest notion what the objects were that Susan had smashed； or tried to smash； and frankly maintained that they thought her conduct magnificent。 As for me； I had gathered by persistent inquiry enough information to know that what her sacrilegious parasol had attacked were bodies of my mysterious friends； the Greek gods； and if all the rest of the village applauded iconoclastic Susan； I at least would be ardent on the other side。
But I was conscious that there was nobody in the world to whom I could go for sympathy。 If I had ever read 'Hellas' I should have murmured
Apollo； Pan and Love； And even Olympian Jove； Grew weak； when killing Susan glared on them。
On the day in question； I was unable to endure the drawing…room meeting to its close； but； clutching my volume of the Funereal Poets； I made a dash for the garden。 In the midst of a mass of laurels； a clearing had been hollowed out； where ferns were grown and a garden…seat was placed。 There was no regular path to this asylum； one dived under the snakelike boughs of the laurel and came up again in absolute seclusion。
Into this haunt I now fled to meditate about the savage godliness of that vandal； Susan Flood。 So extremely ignorant was I that I supposed her to have destroyed the originals of the statues； marble and unique。 I knew nothing about plaster casts； and I thought the damage （it is possible that there had really been no damage whatever） was of an irreparable character。 I sank into the seat； with the great wall of laurels whispering around me； and I burst into tears。 There was something；
