LESSON 43

THE BAPTISM

洗 礼

John Wilson, 1785-1854, a distinguished Scottish author, was born at Paisley. When fifteen years of age, he entered the University of Glasgow; but, three years later, he became a member of Magdalen College, Oxford. Here he attained eminence both as a student, and as a proficient in gymnastic games and exercises. Soon after graduating, he purchased an estate near Lake Windermere, and became a companion of Wordsworth and Southey; but he soon left his estate to reside in Edinburgh. In 1817, when “Blackwood’s Magazine” was established in opposition to the “Edinburgh Review,” he became chief contributor to that famous periodical. In its pages, he won his chief fame as a writer. In 1820, he succeeded Dr. Thomas Brown as Professor of Moral Philosophy in the University of Edinburgh; this position he held for thirty years. His “Lights and Shadows of Scottish Life” was published in 1822. This is a collection of pathetic and beautiful tales of domestic life in Scotland. His contributions to Blackwood appeared over the pseudonym of “Christopher North,” or more familiarly, “Kit North.” Professor Wilson was a man of great physical power and of striking appearance. In character, he was vehement and impulsive; but his writings show that he possessed feelings of deep tenderness.

The rite of baptism had not been performed for several months in the kirk of Lanark. It was now the hottest time of persecution; and the inhabitants of that parish found other places in which to worship God, and celebrate the ordinances of religion. It was now the Sabbath day, and a small congregation of about a hundred souls had met for divine service, in a place more magnificent than any temple that human hands had ever built to Deity. The congregation had not assembled to the toll of the bell, but each heart knew the hour and observed it; for there are a hundred sundials among the hills, woods, moors, and fields; and the shepherd and the peasant see the hours passing by them in sunshine and shadow.

The church in which they were assembled, was hewn by God’s hand out of the eternal rock. A river rolled its way through a mighty chasm of cliffs, several hundred feet high, of which the one side presented enormous masses, and the other corresponding recesses, as if the great stone girdle had been rent by a convulsion. The channel was overspread with prodigious fragments of rocks or large loose stones, some of them smooth and bare, others containing soil and verdure in their rents and fissures, and here and there crowned with shrubs and trees. The eye could at once command a long-stretching vista, seemingly closed and shut up at both extremities by the coalescing cliffs. This majestic reach of river contained pools, streams, and waterfalls innumerable; and when the water was low—which was now the case, in the common drought—it was easy to walk up this scene with the calm, blue sky overhead, an utter and sublime solitude.

On looking up, the soul was bowed down by the feeling of that prodigious height of unscalable, and often overhanging, cliff. Between the channel and the summit of the far extended precipices, were perpetually flying rooks and wood pigeons, and now and then a hawk, filling the profound abyss with their wild cawing, deep murmur, or shrilly shriek. Sometimes a heron would stand erect and still, on some little stone island, or rise up like a white cloud along the black walls of the chasm, and disappear. Winged creatures alone could inhabit this region. The fox and wild cat chose more accessible haunts. Yet, here came the persecuted Christians and worshiped God, whose hand hung over their head those magnificent pillars and arches, scooped out those galleries from the solid rock, and laid at their feet the calm water, in its transparent beauty, in which they could see themselves sitting, in reflected groups, with their Bibles in their hands.

Here, upon a semicircular ledge of rocks, over a narrow chasm, of which the tiny stream played in a murmuring waterfall, and divided the congregation into two equal parts, sat about a hundred persons, all devoutly listening to their minister, who stood before them on what might he called a small, natural pulpit of living stone. Up to it there led a short flight of steps, and over it waved the canopy of a tall, graceful birch tree. The pulpit stood in the middle of the channel, directly facing the congregation, and separated from them by the clear, deep, sparkling pool, into which the scarce-heard water poured over the blackened rock. The water, as it left the pool, separated into two streams, and flowed on each side of that altar, thus placing it in an island, whose large, mossy stones were richly embowered under the golden blossoms and green tresses of the broom.

At the close of divine service, a row of maidens, all clothed in purest white, came gliding off from the congregation, and, crossing the murmuring stream on stepping stones, arranged themselves at the foot of the pulpit with those who were about to be baptized. Their devout fathers, just as though they had been in their own kirk, had been sitting there during worship, and now stood up before the minister. The baptismal water, taken from that pellucid pool, was lying, consecrated, in an appropriate receptacle, formed by the upright stones that composed one side of the pulpit, and the holy rite proceeded.

Some of the younger ones in that semicircle kept gazing down into the pool, in which the whole scene was reflected; and now and then, in spite of the grave looks and admonishing whispers of their elders, letting fall a pebble into the water, that they might judge of its depth, from the length of time that elapsed before the clear air bells lay sparkling on the agitated surface. The rite was over, and the religious service of the day closed by a psalm. The mighty rocks hemmed in the holy sound, and sent it in a more compact volume, clear, sweet, and strong, up to heaven. When the psalm ceased, an echo, like a spirit’s voice, was heard dying away, high up among the magnificent architecture of the cliffs; and once more might be noticed in the silence, the reviving voice of the waterfall.

Just then, a large stone fell from the top of the cliff into the pool, a loud voice was heard, and a plaid was hung over on the point of a shepherd’s staff. Their wakeful sentinel had descried danger, and this was his warning. Forthwith, the congregation rose. There were paths, dangerous to unpracticed feet, along the ledges of the rocks, leading up to several caves and places of concealment. The more active and young assisted the elder, more especially the old pastor, and the women with the infants; and many minutes had not elapsed, till not a living creature was visible in the channel of the stream, but all of them were hidden, or nearly so, in the clefts and caverns.

The shepherd who had given the alarm, had lain down again instantly in his plaid on the greensward, upon the summit of these precipices. A party of soldiers was immediately upon him, and demanded what signals he had been making, and to whom; when one of them, looking over the edge of the cliff, exclaimed, “See, see! Humphrey, We have caught the whole tabernacle of the Lord in a net at last. There they are, praising God among the stones of the river Mouse. These are the Cartland Craigs. A noble cathedral!” “Fling the lying sentinel over the cliffs. Here is a canting Covenanter for you, deceiving honest soldiers on the very Sabbath day. Over with him, over with him; out of the gallery into the pit.” But the shepherd had vanished like a shadow, and, mixing with the tall, green broom and bushes, was making his unseen way toward a wood. “Satan has saved his servant; but come, my lads, follow me. I know the way down into the bed of the stream, and the steps up to Wallace’s Cave. They are called, ‘kittle nine stanes;’ The hunt’s up. We’ll all be in at the death. Halloo! my boys, halloo!”

The soldiers dashed down a less precipitous part of the wooded banks, a little below the “craigs,” and hurried up the channel. But when they reached the altar where the old, gray-haired minister had been seen standing, and the rocks that had been covered with people, all was silent and solitary; not a creature to be seen. “Here is a Bible, dropped by some of them,” cried a soldier, and, with his foot, he spun it away into the pool. “A bonnet, a bonnet,” cried another; “now for the pretty, sanctified face, that rolled its demure eyes below it.” But after a few jests and oaths, the soldiers stood still, eying with a kind of mysterious dread the black and silent walls of the rocks that hemmed them in, and hearing only the small voice of the stream that sent a profounder stillness through the heart of that majestic solitude. “What if these cowardly Covenanters should tumble down upon our heads pieces of rock, from their hiding places! Advance, or retreat?”

There was no reply; for a slight fear was upon every man. Musket or bayonet could be of little use to men obliged to clamber up rocks, along slender paths, leading they know not where. And they were aware that armed men nowadays worshiped God; men of iron hearts, who feared not the glitter of the soldier’s arms, neither barrel nor bayonet; men of long stride, firm step, and broad breast, who, on the open field, would have overthrown the marshaled line, and gone first and foremost, if a city had to be taken by storm.

As the soldiers were standing together irresolute, a noise came upon their ears like distant thunder, but even more appalling; and a slight current of air, as if propelled by it, passed whispering along the sweetbriers, and the broom, and the tresses of the birch trees. It came deepening, and rolling, and roaring on; and the very Cartland Craigs shook to their foundation, as if in an earthquake. “The Lord have mercy upon us! What is this?” And down fell many of the miserable wretches on their knees, and some on their faces, upon the sharp-pointed rocks. Now, it was like the sound of many myriads of chariots rolling on their iron axles down the strong channel of the torrent. The old, gray-haired minister issued from the mouth of Wallace’s Cave, and said, in a loud voice, “The Lord God terrible reigneth!”

A waterspout had burst up among the moorlands, and the river, in its power, was at hand. There it came, tumbling along into that long reach of cliffs, and, in a moment, filled it with one mass of waves. Huge, agitated clouds of foam rode on the surface of a blood-red torrent. An army must have been swept off by that flood. The soldiers perished in a moment; but high up in the cliffs, above the sweep of destruction, were the Covenanters, men, women, and children, uttering prayers to God, unheard by themselves, in the raging thunder.

【中文阅读】

在拉纳克教会，已经有好几个月没有举行洗礼仪式了。现在是宗教迫害最疯狂的时候，那个教区的居民发现其他地方在做礼拜，举行宗教法令的颁布仪式。今天是安息日，大约一百位信众聚在一起礼拜，举行仪式的地方要比人类凭双手建造的任何神庙都要宏伟壮丽。教堂会众并没有在钟声缓缓敲响时集合，但是每个人心里都清楚集合的时间，都很守时。由于在群山、丛林、荒野和田地之间有一百个日晷仪，牧羊人和农夫得以在骄阳和树荫下通过日晷仪观测到时间的流逝。

他们集会的教堂是上帝之手劈开巨石修建成的。一条小河流过悬崖峭壁的巨大裂缝，悬崖峭壁高达数百英尺，其中一侧有隆起的石碓，另一侧相应地凹了进去，仿佛这块巨石的裂口是一场地震形成的。通道是由数量惊人的碎石块或者大块裸石铺成的，其中有一些很光滑、平整，其他的则在裂缝里和纹理间有土质和青绿色的草。这里的石头上随处可见冠状树丛和树木。放眼望去，人们的视野马上就变得长而狭窄，看上去好像被合拢的悬崖给挡住了似的。这条河雄伟的流域包括池塘、小溪和数不清的瀑布。当水面较低时——现在就是这种情形，正值干旱季节——这种景象触手可及，头顶高悬无风碧蓝的天空，遗世而立，令人流连忘返。

向上仰望，人们被高达万仞的悬崖的威严给震慑住了。在通道和向远处延伸的峭壁的顶端之间，是永远展翅腾飞的乌鸦和啄木鸟，不时会有一只鹰出现，它们狂野的呱呱声、低沉的鸣叫或尖厉的长啸空谷回音。有时，一只鹭会笔直地站在小石岛上，像一朵白云一样沿着巨石裂缝的黑壁巡飞，转瞬就不见了踪影。只有长翅膀的生灵才能在这个地方栖息。狐狸和野猫会选择更易于藏身的地方出没。不过，被迫害的基督徒到这里来做礼拜，上帝把手放在那些壮观的石柱和拱门顶上，将走廊与结实的巨石分开，走廊下面是一泓潭水。透过透明的潭水他们能看到自己的坐姿，手上捧着《圣经》。

在这儿，在半圆形的突出的石壁上，在巨石狭窄的裂口上，那条小溪流水潺潺，将教堂会众分成人数均等的两部分，坐着的一百名会众全都虔诚地聆听牧师布道，牧师站在他们前面那块他称作讲坛的石头上，那块不大的石头似乎也有了生气。在石头上面有一段短短的台阶，华盖上一株挺拔优雅的桦树迎风摇曳。讲坛位于通道的中央，直接面向教堂会众，将会众分开的是清澈见底、水波涟漪的水潭，人们很少听到水漫过黑魆魆的石头的声音。在尽头处，潭分成两条小溪，水绕着祭坛流淌。就这样，祭坛成了一个小岛，长满苔藓的大石头被下面的金盏花和绿树丛环绕着。

在礼拜快要结束时，从会众中闪出一队身着洁白服装的少女，穿过汩汩流淌的溪水，踏上石头，与那些好像要接受洗礼的人一起在讲坛下面排成队列。她们虔诚的父亲们就像在自己的苏格兰教会那样，在做礼拜期间一直坐在那儿，现在他们全都站在牧师面前。从那个清澈的水潭里取来的洗礼用的水，被奉为神圣的赐物，盛在相应的容器里。这个容器是由讲坛一侧的立石天然形成的，就这样，神圣的仪式开始了。

这些年轻人中有的围成半圆形，不错眼珠地盯着水潭，整个情景都被反射到潭水里了；尽管年长一些的人神情肃穆，告诫他们不要低声耳语，可是这些年轻人不时地向水潭里扔小石子，他们从石子飞行的时间和在水面激起的水花来判断水潭有多深。仪式结束了，在唱赞美诗后，一天的宗教活动告一段落。巨大的石头聚拢着这神圣的声音，整个空谷都在回荡着，清晰、悠扬而又高亢，直冲云霄。在赞美诗结束时，一声回音就像神灵的叹息一样慢慢地隐去，在巍峨耸立的悬崖间盘旋着；在静谧中更加撞击人们耳鼓的是，瀑布那复苏的流淌声。

就在这时候，一块大石头从悬崖顶端掉进水潭里，传来巨大的声音，在牧羊人群的头顶上，悬起一块毛呢长披肩。他们那警觉的岗哨发现有危险情况，发出警报。会众见状马上都站了起来。在小道上沿着岩石的突出部分攀爬是危险的，他们迅速爬到洞穴和躲藏的地方。年轻人主动帮助年长者，特别是年长的牧师和带着孩子的妇女，时间在一分一秒地流逝，直到众人都消失在小溪的水渠里，所有人差不多都躲进巨石的裂口和大山洞里了。

发出警报的牧羊人立刻在峭壁顶端的草皮上摊开毛呢长披。一群士兵马上发现了他，问他发的是什么信号，向谁发的；其中一人向悬崖上眺望，大喊道：“看，看啊，汉弗莱，我们最终会将这些上帝的信徒一网打尽的。他们在环绕那条小河的石头中间赞美上帝呢。这些是峭壁岩石，一座雄伟的大教堂！”“把那个撒谎的岗哨扔到悬崖上去。这家伙是你们伪善的盟约者，在这个特别的安息日欺骗最诚实的士兵。处死他，处死他，把他抬出走廊，扔到深坑里去。”但是，牧羊人已经像影子似的跑了，闪身躲进高高的绿色金盏花和树丛中，顺着一条他从前没走过的路朝一片树林跑去。“撒旦已经饶恕了他的奴仆，孩子们，你们随我来，我晓得下到小溪河床底部的路，从那里就可以攀上华莱士的洞穴。他们要是爬上来的话，我们都得死，快点！孩子们，快啊！”

士兵们冲下木头堤岸不那么陡峭的部分，在峭壁岩石下一小队人向通道赶去。但是，当他们到达祭坛时，只有年事已高、一头灰白头发的牧师站在那儿，岩石已经把教堂会众遮挡起来，他们全都默不作声，出奇地寂静。一个人影也不见了。“瞧，这儿有本圣经，准是他们中有人掉落的。”一个士兵喊道，然后用脚踢到水潭里。“呢帽，呢帽，”另一个士兵喊了一声，“用来遮住姣好神圣的脸，盖住眉毛的。”不过，在一阵肆无忌惮的玩笑和诅咒过后，士兵们仍站在原地未动，脸上流露出一种神秘的敬畏，盯着四周黑魆魆、静默得吓人的石壁，只听见小溪流水的声音，这是水从潭底发出的回声。“要是这些愚蠢的盟约者在他们的藏身之处朝我们的脑袋扔石头该怎么办！我们向前还是后退？”

没人回答。因为哪怕是最轻微的恐吓也会吓坏每个人。火枪或刺刀根本不能帮助这些人沿着狭窄的小道攀上岩石，他们无所适从。他们意识到今天来做礼拜的人都全副武装，这些有着坚强意志的人是不会害怕士兵手里的火器的，更不用说枪筒和刺刀了。在开阔地带，迈着大步和挺着宽阔胸膛的会众会冲垮士兵列好的阵形，如果必须攻城拔寨的话，那么一鼓作气是最要紧的。

就在这些士兵站在那儿犹豫不定时，传来一阵雷鸣般的声音，好像是从远处发出的，可是更令人失魂落魄。一股气流仿佛是被驱赶过来的，轻轻地漫过多花蔷薇、金盏花和桦树的枝叶。这股气流越来越大，向前翻滚着，发出咆哮声，连峭壁岩石的底部都在摇晃，好像是地震。“上帝已经饶恕我们了！这是怎么回事？”许多可怜的家伙都跪卧在地上，尖利的石块砸在一些人的脸上。现在，这个场面就像有无数战车的铁车轴碾过洪流似的。那位年事已高、一头灰白头发的牧师从华莱士的洞穴口闪身出来，嗓音洪亮地说：“万能的上帝发威了！”

在沼泽地和河流之间，水直往上喷涌，眼看着就成了一片汪洋。洪水翻滚着涌进悬崖的狭长地带。不一会儿，悬崖间就波浪腾涌了。在洪水的表面涌起巨大的泡沫。在洪水面前，一支军队不堪一击。顷刻间，士兵们就命丧黄泉了。在悬崖的顶端，在被摧毁的连绵巨石上站着的盟约者、男人、妇女和孩子们，齐声祷告上帝，在电闪雷鸣中，他们的祈祷声连他们自己也听不见。