第 22 节
作者:寻找山吹      更新:2021-02-27 02:12      字数:9322
  however; were for annihilating it: although they took the other side of
  the discussion of a subject of which none of us knew anything; their
  attacks were but half…hearted; like me; they were still under the spell
  exerted by a youthful training。
  We were all of us aware of Ralph; who sat at some distance looking over
  the pages of an English sporting weekly。  Presently he flung it down。
  〃Haven't you found out yet that man created God; Hughie?〃 he inquired。
  〃And even if there were a personal God; what reason have you to think
  that man would be his especial concern; or any concern of his whatever?
  The discovery of evolution has knocked your Christianity into a cocked
  hat。〃
  I don't remember how I answered him。  In spite of the superficiality of
  his own arguments; which I was not learned enough to detect; I was
  ingloriously routed。  Darwin had kicked over the bucket; and that was all
  there was to it。。。。  After we had left the club both Conybear and Laurens
  admitted they were somewhat disturbed; declaring that Ralph had gone too
  far。  I spent a miserable night; recalling the naturalistic assertions he
  had made so glibly; asking myself again and again how it was that the
  religion to which I so vainly clung had no greater effect on my actions
  and on my will; had not prevented me from lapses into degradation。  And I
  hated myself for having argued upon a subject that was still sacred。  I
  believed in Christ; which is to say that I believed that in some
  inscrutable manner he existed; continued to dominate the world and had
  suffered on my account。
  To whom should I go now for a confirmation of my wavering beliefs?  One
  of the resultsit will be remembered of religion as I was taught it was
  a pernicious shyness; and even though I had found a mentor and confessor;
  I might have hesitated to unburden myself。  This would be different from
  arguing with Ralph Hambleton。  In my predicament; as I was wandering
  through the yard; I came across a notice of an evening talk to students
  in Holder Chapel; by a clergyman named Phillips Brooks。  This was before
  the time; let me say in passing; when his sermons at Harvard were
  attended by crowds of undergraduates。  Well; I stood staring at the
  notice; debating whether I should go; trying to screw up my courage; for
  I recognized clearly that such a step; if it were to be of any value;
  must mean a distinct departure from my present mode of life; and I recall
  thinking with a certain revulsion that I should have to 〃turn good。〃  My
  presence at the meeting would be known the next day to all my friends;
  for the idea of attending a religious gathering when one was not forced
  to do so by the authorities was unheard of in our set。  I should be
  classed with the despised 〃pious ones〃 who did such things regularly。  I
  shrank from the ridicule。  I had; however; heard of Mr。 Brooks from Ned
  Symonds; who was by no means of the pious type; and whose parents
  attended Mr。 Brooks's church in Boston。。。。  I left my decision in
  abeyance。  But when evening came I stole away from the club table; on the
  plea of an engagement; and made my way rapidly toward Holder Chapel。  I
  had almost reached itwhen I caught a glimpse of Symonds and of some
  others approaching;and I went on; to turn again。  By this time the
  meeting; which was in a room on the second floor; had already begun。
  Palpitating; I climbed the steps; the door of the room was slightly ajar;
  I looked in; I recall a distinct sensation of surprise;the atmosphere
  of that meeting was so different from what I had expected。  Not a 〃pious〃
  atmosphere at all!  I saw a very tall and heavy gentleman; dressed in
  black; who sat; wholly at ease; on the table!  One hand was in his
  pocket; one foot swung clear of the ground; and he was not preaching; but
  talking in an easy; conversational tone to some forty young men who sat
  intent on his words。  I was too excited to listen to what he was saying;
  I was making a vain attempt to classify him。  But I remember the thought;
  for it struck me with force;that if Christianity were so thoroughly
  discredited by evolution; as Ralph Hambleton and other agnostics would
  have one believe; why should this remarkably sane and able…looking person
  be standing up for it as though it were still an established and
  incontrovertible fact?
  He had not; certainly; the air of a dupe or a sentimentalist; but
  inspired confidence by his very personality。  Youthlike; I watched him
  narrowly for flaws; for oratorical tricks; for all kinds of histrionic
  symptoms。  Again I was near the secret; again it escaped me。  The
  argument for Christianity lay not in assertions about it; but in being
  it。  This man was Christianity。。。。  I must have felt something of this;
  even though I failed to formulate it。  And unconsciously I contrasted his
  strength; which reinforced the atmosphere of the room; with that of Ralph
  Hambleton; who was; a greater influence over me than I have recorded; and
  had come to sway me more and more; as he had swayed others。  The strength
  of each was impressive; yet this Mr。 Brooks seemed to me the bodily
  presentment of a set of values which I would have kept constantly before
  my eyes。。。。  I felt him drawing me; overcoming my hesitation; belittling
  my fear of ridicule。  I began gently to open the doorwhen something
  happened;one of those little things that may change the course of a
  life。  The door made little noise; yet one of the men sitting in the back
  of the room chanced to look around; and I recognized Hermann Krebs。  His
  face was still sunken from his recent illness。  Into his eyes seemed to
  leap a sudden appeal; an appeal to which my soul responded yet I hurried
  down the stairs and into the street。  Instantly I regretted my retreat; I
  would have gone back; but lacked the courage; and I strayed unhappily for
  hours; now haunted by that look of Krebs; now wondering what the
  remarkably sane…looking and informal clergyman whose presence dominated
  the little room had been talking about。  I never learned; but I did live
  to read his biography; to discover what he might have talked about;for
  he if any man believed that life and religion are one; and preached
  consecration to life's task。
  Of little use to speculate whether the message; had I learned it then;
  would have fortified and transformed me!
  In spite of the fact that I was unable to relate to a satisfying
  conception of religion my new…born determination; I made up my mind; at
  least; to renounce my tortuous ways。  I had promised my father to be a
  lawyer; I would keep my promise; I would give the law a fair trial; later
  on; perhaps; I might demonstrate an ability to write。  All very
  praiseworthy!  The season was Lent; a fitting time for renunciations and
  resolves。  Although I had more than once fallen from grace; I believed
  myself at last to have settled down on my true coursewhen something
  happened。  The devil interfered subtly; as usualnow in the person of
  Jerry Kyme。  It should be said in justice to Jerry that he did not look
  the part。  He had sunny…red; curly hair; mischievous blue eyes with long
  lashes; and he harboured no respect whatever for any individual or
  institution; sacred or profane; he possessed; however; a shrewd sense of
  his own value; as many innocent and unsuspecting souls discovered as
  early as our freshman year; and his method of putting down the
  presumptuous was both effective and unique。  If he liked you; there could
  be no mistake about it。
  One evening when I was engaged in composing a theme for Mr。 Cheyne on no
  less a subject than the interpretation of the work of William Wordsworth;
  I found myself unexpectedly sprawling on the floor; in my descent kicking
  the table so vigorously as to send the ink…well a foot or two toward the
  ceiling。  This; be it known; was a typical proof of Jerry's esteem。  For
  he had entered noiselessly; jerking the back of my chair; which chanced
  to be tilted; and stood with his hands in his pockets; surveying the ruin
  he had wrought; watching the ink as it trickled on the carpet。  Then he
  picked up the book。
  〃Poetry; you darned old grind!〃 he exclaimed disgustedly。  〃Say; Parry; I
  don't know what's got into you; but I want you to come home with me for
  the Easter holidays。  It'll do you good。  We'll be on the Hudson; you
  know; and we'll manage to make life bearable somehow。〃
  I forgot my irritation; in sheer surprise。
  〃Why; that's mighty good of you; Jerry〃 I began; struggling to my feet。
  〃Oh; rot!〃 he exclaimed。  〃I shouldn't ask you if I didn't want you。〃
  There was no denying the truth of this; and after he had gone I sat for a
  long time with my pen in my mouth; reflecting as to whether or not I
  should go。  For I had the instinct that here was another cross…roads;
  that more depended on my decision than I cared to admit。  But even then I
  knew what I should do。  Ridiculous not toI told myself。  How could a
  week or ten days with Jerry possibly affect my newborn; resolve?
  Yet the prospect; now; of a visit to the Kymes' was by no means so
  glowing as it once would have been。  For I had seen visions; I had
  dreamed dreams; beheld a delectable country of my very own。  A year ago
  nay; even a month agohow such an invitation would have gl