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作者:
套牢 更新:2021-02-20 16:02 字数:9322
Prayers Written At Vailima
Prayers Written At
Vailima
Robert Louis Stevenson
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Prayers Written At Vailima
INTRODUCTION
In every Samoan household the day is closed with prayer and the
singing of hymns。 The omission of this sacred duty would indicate; not
only a lack of religious training in the house chief; but a shameless
disregard of all that is reputable in Samoan social life。 No doubt; to many;
the evening service is no more than a duty fulfilled。 The child who says
his prayer at his mother's knee can have no real conception of the meaning
of the words he lisps so readily; yet he goes to his little bed with a sense of
heavenly protection that he would miss were the prayer forgotten。 The
average Samoan is but a larger child in most things; and would lay an
uneasy head on his wooden pillow if he had not joined; even perfunctorily;
in the evening service。 With my husband; prayer; the direct appeal; was a
necessity。 When he was happy he felt impelled to offer thanks for that
undeserved joy; when in sorrow; or pain; to call for strength to bear what
must be borne。
Vailima lay up some three miles of continual rise from Apia; and more
than half that distance from the nearest village。 It was a long way for a
tired man to walk down every evening with the sole purpose of joining in
family worship; and the road through the bush was dark; and; to the
Samoan imagination; beset with supernatural terrors。 Wherefore; as soon
as our household had fallen into a regular routine; and the bonds of
Samoan family life began to draw us more closely together; Tusitala felt
the necessity of including our retainers in our evening devotions。 I suppose
ours was the only white man's family in all Samoa; except those of the
missionaries; where the day naturally ended with this homely; patriarchal
custom。 Not only were the religious scruples of the natives satisfied; but;
what we did not foresee; our own respectability … and incidentally that of
our retainers … became assured; and the influence of Tusitala increased
tenfold。
After all work and meals were finished; the 'pu;' or war conch; was
sounded from the back veranda and the front; so that it might be heard by
all。 I don't think it ever occurred to us that there was any incongruity in the
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use of the war conch for the peaceful invitation to prayer。 In response to its
summons the white members of the family took their usual places in one
end of the large hall; while the Samoans … men; women; and children …
trooped in through all the open doors; some carrying lanterns if the
evening were dark; all moving quietly and dropping with Samoan
decorum in a wide semicircle on the floor beneath a great lamp that hung
from the ceiling。 The service began by my son reading a chapter from the
Samoan Bible; Tusitala following with a prayer in English; sometimes
impromptu; but more often from the notes in this little book; interpolating
or changing with the circumstance of the day。 Then came the singing of
one or more hymns in the native tongue; and the recitation in concert of
the Lord's Prayer; also in Samoan。 Many of these hymns were set to
ancient tunes; very wild and warlike; and strangely at variance with the
missionary words。
Sometimes a passing band of hostile warriors; with blackened faces;
would peer in at us through the open windows; and often we were forced
to pause until the strangely savage; monotonous noise of the native drums
had ceased; but no Samoan; nor; I trust; white person; changed his reverent
attitude。 Once; I remember a look of surprised dismay crossing the
countenance of Tusitala when my son; contrary to his usual custom of
reading the next chapter following that of yesterday; turned back the
leaves of his Bible to find a chapter fiercely denunciatory; and only too
applicable to the foreign dictators of distracted Samoa。 On another
occasion the chief himself brought the service to a sudden check。 He had
just learned of the treacherous conduct of one in whom he had every
reason to trust。 That evening the prayer seemed unusually short and formal。
As the singing stopped he arose abruptly and left the room。 I hastened
after him; fearing some sudden illness。 'What is it?' I asked。 'It is this;' was
the reply; 'I am not yet fit to say; 〃Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive
those who trespass against us。〃'
It is with natural reluctance that I touch upon the last prayer of my
husband's life。 Many have supposed that he showed; in the wording of this
prayer; that he had some premonition of his approaching death。 I am sure
he had no such premonition。 It was I who told the assembled family that I
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felt an impending disaster approaching nearer and nearer。 Any Scot will
understand that my statement was received seriously。 It could not be; we
thought; that danger threatened any one within the house; but Mr。 Graham
Balfour; my husband's cousin; very near and dear to us; was away on a
perilous cruise。 Our fears followed the various vessels; more or less
unseaworthy; in which he was making his way from island to island to the
atoll where the exiled king; Mataafa; was at that time imprisoned。 In my
husband's last prayer; the night before his death; he asked that we should
be given strength to bear the loss of this dear friend; should such a sorrow
befall us。
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FOR SUCCESS
LORD; behold our family here assembled。 We thank Thee for this
place in which we dwell; for the love that unites us; for the peace accorded
us this day; for the hope with which we expect the morrow; for the health;
the work; the food; and the bright skies; that make our lives delightful; for
our friends in all parts of the earth; and our friendly helpers in this foreign
isle。 Let peace abound in our small company。 Purge out of every heart the
lurking grudge。 Give us grace and strength to forbear and to persevere。
Offenders; give us the grace to accept and to forgive offenders。 Forgetful
ourselves; help us to bear cheerfully the forgetfulness of others。 Give us
courage and gaiety and the quiet mind。 Spare to us our friends; soften to us
our enemies。 Bless us; if it may be; in all our innocent endeavours。 If it
may not; give us the strength to encounter that which is to come; that we
be brave in peril; constant in tribulation; temperate in wrath; and in all
changes of fortune; and; down to the gates of death; loyal and loving one
to another。 As the clay to the potter; as the windmill to the wind; as
children of their sire; we beseech of Thee this help and mercy for Christ's
sake。
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FOR GRACE
GRANT that we here before Thee may be set free from the fear of
vicissitude and the fear of death; may finish what remains before us of our
course without dishonour to ourselves or hurt to others; and; when the day
comes; may die in peace。 Deliver us from fear and favour: from mean
hopes and cheap pleasures。 Have mercy on each in his deficiency; let him
be not cast down; support the stumbling on the way; and give at last rest to
the weary。
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AT MORNING
THE day returns and brings us the petty round of ir