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第45章

robert louis stevenson-第45章

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 not search to…day for the pool where the lynx…eyed John Todd; 〃the  oldest herd on the Pentlands;〃 watched from behind the low scrag of  wood the stranger collie come furtively to wash away the tell…tale  stains of lamb's blood。  The effacing hand of the snow has  smothered it over。  Higher you mount; mid leg…deep in drift; up the  steep and slippery hill…face; to the summit。  Edinburgh has been  creeping nearer since Stevenson's musing fancy began to draw on the  memories of the climbs up 〃steep Caerketton。〃  But this light gives  it a mystic distance; and it is all glitter and shadow。  Arthur  Seat is like some great sea monster stranded near a city of dreams;  from the fog…swathed Firth gleams the white walls of Inchkeith  lighthouse; a mark never missed by Stevenson's father's son; above  Fife rise the twin breasts of the Lomonds。  Or turn round and look  across the Esk valley to the Moorfoots; or more westerly; where the  back range of the Pentlands … Caernethy; the Scald; and the knife… edged Kips … draw a sharp silhouette of Arctic peaks against the  sky。  In the cloven hollow between is Glencarse Loch; an ancient  chapel and burying ground hidden under its waters; on the slope  above it; not a couple miles away; is Rullion Green; where; as  Stevenson told in THE PENTLAND RISING (his first printed work)


THE WESTLAND WHIGS WERE SCATTERED


as chaff on the hills。  Were 〃topmost Allermuir;〃 that rises close  beside you; removed from his place; we might see the gap in the  range through which Tom Dalyell and his troopers spurred from  Currie to the fray。  The air on these heights is invigorating as  wine; but it is also keen as a razor。  Without delaying long yon  plunge down to the 〃Windy Door Nick〃; follow the 〃nameless trickle  that springs from the green bosom of Allermuir;〃 past the rock and  pool; where; on summer evenings; the poet 〃loved to sit and make  bad verses〃; and cross Halkerside and the Shearers' Knowe; those  〃adjacent cantons on a single shoulder of a hill;〃 sometimes  floundering to the neck in the loose snow of a drain; sometimes  scaring the sheep huddling in the wreaths; or putting up a covey of  moorfowl that circle back without a cry to cover in the ling。  In  an hour you are at Colinton; whose dell has on one side the manse  garden; where a bright…eyed boy; who was to become famous; spent so  much of his time when he came thither on visits to his stern  Presbyterian grandfather; on the other the old churchyard。  The  snow has drawn its cloak of ermine over the sleepers; it has run  its fingers over the worn lettering; and records almost effaced  start out from the stone。  In vain these 〃voices of generations  dead〃 summon their wandering child; though you might deem that his  spirit would rest more quietly where the cold breeze from Pentland  shakes the ghostly trees in Colinton Dell than 〃under the flailing  fans and shadows of the palm。〃



Footnotes:

(1) Professor Charles Warren Stoddard; Professor of English  Literature at the Catholic University of Washington; in KATE  FIELD'S WASHINGTON。

(2) In his portrait…sketch of his father; Stevenson speaks of him  as a 〃man of somewhat antique strain; and with a blended sternness  and softness that was wholly Scottish; and at first sight somewhat  bewildering;〃 as melancholy; and with a keen sense of his  unworthiness; yet humorous in company; shrewd and childish; a  capital adviser。

(3) INFERNO; Canto XV。

(4) Alas; I never was told that remark … when I saw my friend  afterwards there was always too much to talk of else; and I forgot  to ask。

(5) Quoted by Hammerton; pp。 2 and 3。

(6) Tusitala; as the reader must know; is the Samoan for Teller of  Tales。

(7) WISDOM OF GOETHE; p。 38。

(8) THE FOREIGNER AT HOME; in MEMORIES AND PORTRAITS。

(9) A great deal has been made of the 〃John Bull element〃 in De  Quincey since his MEMOIR was written by me (see MASSON'S  CONDENSATION; p。 95); so now perhaps a little more may be made of  the rather conceited Calvinistic Scot element in R。 L。 Stevenson!

(10) It was Mr George Moore who said this。

(11) FORTNIGHTLY REVIEW; October; 1903。




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