travels with a donkey in the cevennes-第20章
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it is none of our business。 Protestants and Catholics; and even
those who worship stones; may know Him and be known by Him; for He
has made all。'
I did not know I was so good a preacher。
The old man assured me he thought as I did; and repeated his
expressions of pleasure at meeting me。 'We are so few;' he said。
'They call us Moravians here; but down in the Department of Gard;
where there are also a good number; they are called Derbists; after
an English pastor。'
I began to understand that I was figuring; in questionable taste;
as a member of some sect to me unknown; but I was more pleased with
the pleasure of my companion than embarrassed by my own equivocal
position。 Indeed; I can see no dishonesty in not avowing a
difference; and especially in these high matters; where we have all
a sufficient assurance that; whoever may be in the wrong; we
ourselves are not completely in the right。 The truth is much
talked about; but this old man in a brown nightcap showed himself
so simple; sweet; and friendly; that I am not unwilling to profess
myself his convert。 He was; as a matter of fact; a Plymouth
Brother。 Of what that involves in the way of doctrine I have no
idea nor the time to inform myself; but I know right well that we
are all embarked upon a troublesome world; the children of one
Father; striving in many essential points to do and to become the
same。 And although it was somewhat in a mistake that he shook
hands with me so often and showed himself so ready to receive my
words; that was a mistake of the truth…finding sort。 For charity
begins blindfold; and only through a series of similar
misapprehensions rises at length into a settled principle of love
and patience; and a firm belief in all our fellow…men。 If I
deceived this good old man; in the like manner I would willingly go
on to deceive others。 And if ever at length; out of our separate
and sad ways; we should all come together into one common house; I
have a hope; to which I cling dearly; that my mountain Plymouth
Brother will hasten to shake hands with me again。
Thus; talking like Christian and Faithful by the way; he and I came
down upon a hamlet by the Tarn。 It was but a humble place; called
La Vernede; with less than a dozen houses; and a Protestant chapel
on a knoll。 Here he dwelt; and here; at the inn; I ordered my
breakfast。 The inn was kept by an agreeable young man; a stone…
breaker on the road; and his sister; a pretty and engaging girl。
The village schoolmaster dropped in to speak with the stranger。
And these were all Protestants … a fact which pleased me more than
I should have expected; and; what pleased me still more; they
seemed all upright and simple people。 The Plymouth Brother hung
round me with a sort of yearning interest; and returned at least
thrice to make sure I was enjoying my meal。 His behaviour touched
me deeply at the time; and even now moves me in recollection。 He
feared to intrude; but he would not willingly forego one moment of
my society; and he seemed never weary of shaking me by the hand。
When all the rest had drifted off to their day's work; I sat for
near half an hour with the young mistress of the house; who talked
pleasantly over her seam of the chestnut harvest; and the beauties
of the Tarn; and old family affections; broken up when young folk
go from home; yet still subsisting。 Hers; I am sure; was a sweet
nature; with a country plainness and much delicacy underneath; and
he who takes her to his heart will doubtless be a fortunate young
man。
The valley below La Vernede pleased me more and more as I went
forward。 Now the hills approached from either hand; naked and
crumbling; and walled in the river between cliffs; and now the
valley widened and became green。 The road led me past the old
castle of Miral on a steep; past a battlemented monastery; long
since broken up and turned into a church and parsonage; and past a
cluster of black roofs; the village of Cocures; sitting among
vineyards; and meadows; and orchards thick with red apples; and
where; along the highway; they were knocking down walnuts from the
roadside trees; and gathering them in sacks and baskets。 The
hills; however much the vale might open; were still tall and bare;
with cliffy battlements and here and there a pointed summit; and
the Tarn still rattled through the stones with a mountain noise。 I
had been led; by bagmen of a picturesque turn of mind; to expect a
horrific country after the heart of Byron; but to my Scottish eyes
it seemed smiling and plentiful; as the weather still gave an
impression of high summer to my Scottish body; although the
chestnuts were already picked out by the autumn; and the poplars;
that here began to mingle with them; had turned into pale gold
against the approach of winter。
There was something in this landscape; smiling although wild; that
explained to me the spirit of the Southern Covenanters。 Those who
took to the hills for conscience' sake in Scotland had all gloomy
and bedevilled thoughts; for once that they received God's comfort
they would be twice engaged with Satan; but the Camisards had only
bright and supporting visions。 They dealt much more in blood; both
given and taken; yet I find no obsession of the Evil One in their
records。 With a light conscience; they pursued their life in these
rough times and circumstances。 The soul of Seguier; let us not
forget; was like a garden。 They knew they were on God's side; with
a knowledge that has no parallel among the Scots; for the Scots;
although they might be certain of the cause; could never rest
confident of the person。
'We flew;' says one old Camisard; 'when we heard the sound of
psalm…singing; we flew as if with wings。 We felt within us an
animating ardour; a transporting desire。 The feeling cannot be
expressed in words。 It is a thing that must have been experienced
to be understood。 However weary we might be; we thought no more of
our weariness; and grew light so soon as the psalms fell upon our
ears。'
The valley of the Tarn and the people whom I met at La Vernede not
only explain to me this passage; but the twenty years of suffering
which those; who were so stiff and so bloody when once they betook
themselves to war; endured with the meekness of children and the
constancy of saints and peasants。
FLORAC
ON a branch of the Tarn stands Florac; the seat of a sub…
prefecture; with an old castle; an alley of planes; many quaint
street…corners; and a live fountain welling from the hill。 It is
notable; besides; for handsome women; and as one of the two
capitals; Alais being the other; of the country of the Camisards。
The landlord of the inn took me; after I had eaten; to an adjoining
cafe; where I; or rather my journey; became the topic of the
afternoon。 Every one had some suggestion for my guidance; and the
sub…prefectorial map was fetched from the sub…prefecture itself;
and much thumbed among coffee…cups and glasses of liqueur。 Most of
these kind advisers were Protestant; though I observed that
Protestant and Catholic intermingled in a very easy manner; and it
surprised me to see what a lively memory still subsisted of the
religious war。 Among the hills of the south…west; by Mauchline;
Cumnock; or Carsphairn; in isolated farms or in the manse; serious
Presbyterian people still recall the days of the great persecution;
and the graves of local martyrs are still piously regarded。 But in
towns and among the so…called better classes; I fear that these old
doings have become an idle tale。 If you met a mixed company in the
King's Arms at Wigton; it is not likely that the talk would run on
Covenanters。 Nay; at Muirkirk of Glenluce; I found the beadle's
wife had not so much as heard of Prophet Peden。 But these Cevenols
wer