第28部分(第5/7 頁)

f　the　abyss　of　years……that　self　which　is　not　myself　at　all；　though　I　mark　points　of　kindred　between　the　beings　of　then　and　now。　He　who　in　that　other　world　sat　to　hear　the　Christmas　gospel；　either　heeded　it　not　at　all……rapt　in　his　own　visions……or　listened　only　as　one　in　whose　blood　was　heresy。　He　loved　the　notes　of　the　organ；　but；　even　in　his　childish　mind；　distinguished　clearly　between　the　music　and　its　local　motive。　More　than　that；　he　could　separate　the　melody　of　word　and　of　thought　from　their　dogmatic　significance；　enjoying　the　one　whilst　wholly　rejecting　the　other。　〃On　earth　peace；　goodwill　to　men〃……already　that　line　was　among　the　treasures　of　his　intellect；　but　only；　no　doubt；　because　of　its　rhythm；　its　sonority。　Life；　to　him；　was　a　half…conscious　striving　for　the　harmonic　in　thought　and　speech……and　through　what　a　tumult　of　unmelodious　circumstance　was　he　beginning　to　fight　his　way！

To…day；　I　listen　with　no　heretical　promptings。　The　music；　whether　of　organ　or　of　word；　is　more　to　me　than　ever；　the　literal　meaning　causes　me　no　restiveness。　I　felt　only　glad　that　I　had　yielded　to　the　summons　of　the　Christmas　bells。　I　sat　among　a　congregation　of　shadows；　not　in　the　great　cathedral；　but　in　a　little　parish　church　far　from　here。　When　I　came　forth；　it　astonished　me　to　see　the　softly　radiant　sky；　and　to　tread　on　the　moist　earth；　my　dream　expected　a　wind…swept　canopy　of　cold　grey；　and　all　beneath　it　the　gleam　of　new…fallen　snow。　It　is　a　piety　to　turn　awhile　and　live　with　the　dead；　and　who　can　so　well　indulge　it　as　he　whose　Christmas　is　passed　in　no　unhappy　solitude？　I　would　not　now；　if　I　might；　be　one　of　a　joyous　pany；　it　is　better　to　hear　the　long…silent　voices；　and　to　smile　at　happy　things　which　I　alone　can　remember。　When　I　was　scarce　old　enough　to　understand；　I　heard