silas marner(织工马南)-第2章
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“I’ve never been used to nothing but common victual； and I can’t
eat that。” Experience had bred no fancies in him that could raise
the phantasm of appetite。
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And Raveloe was a village where many of the old echoes
lingered； undrowned by new voices。 Not that it was one of those
barren parishes lying on the outskirts of civilization—inhabited by
meagre sheep and thinly scattered shepherds： on the contrary； it
lay in the rich； central plain of what we are pleased to call Merry
England； and held farms which； speaking from a spiritual point of
view； paid highly desirable tithes。 But it was nestled in a snug；
well…wooded hollow； quite an hour’s journey on horseback from
any turnpike； where it was never reached by the vibrations of the
coach…horn； or of public opinion。 It was an important…looking
village； with a fine old church； and large churchyard in the heart
of it； and two or three large brick…and…stone homesteads； with
well…walled orchards and ornamental weathercocks； standing
close upon the road； and lifting more imposing fronts than the
rectory； which peeped from among the trees on the other side of
the churchyard—a village which showed at once the summits of its
social life； and told the practised eye that there was no great park
and manor…house in the vicinity； but that there were several chiefs
in Raveloe who could farm badly quite at their ease； drawing
enough money from their bad farming； in those wartimes； to live
in a rollicking fashion； and keep a jolly Christmas； Whitsun； and
Eastertide。
It was fifteen years since Silas Marner had first come to
Raveloe： he was then simply a pallid young man； with prominent；
short…sighted brown eyes； whose appearance would have had
nothing strange for people of average culture and experience； but
for the villagers near whom he had come to settle it had
mysterious peculiarities which corresponded with the exceptional
nature of his occupation； and his advent from an unknown region
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called “North’ard”。 So had his way of life： he invited no comer to
step across his door…sill； and he never strolled into the village to
drink a pint at the Rainbow； or to gossip at the wheelwright’s； he
sought no man or woman； save for the purposes of his calling； or in
order to supply himself with necessaries； and it was soon clear to
the Raveloe lasses that he would never urge one of them to accept
him against her will—quite as if he had heard them declare that
they would never marry a dead man come to life again。 This view
of Marner’s personality was not without another ground than his
pale face and unexampled eyes； for Jem Rodney； the molecatcher；
averred that one evening as he was returning homeward he saw
Silas Marner leaning against a stile with a heavy bag on his back；
instead of resting the bag on the stile as a man in his senses would
have done； and that； on coming up to him； he saw that Marner’s
eyes were set like a dead man’s； and he spoke to him； and shook
him； and his limbs were stiff； and his hands clutched the bag as if
they’d been made of iron； but just as he had made up his mind
that the weaver was dead； he came all right again； like； as you
might say； in the winking of an eye； and said “Good…night”； and
walked off。 All this Jem swore he had seen； more by token that it
was the very day he had been molecatching on Squire Cass’s land；
down by the old saw…pit。 Some said Marner must have been in a
“fit”—a word which seemed to explain things otherwise
incredible； but the argumentative Mr。 Macey； clerk of the parish；
shook his head； and asked if anybody was ever known to go off in a
fit and not fall down。 A fit was a stroke； wasn’t it？ and it was in the
nature of a stroke to partly take away the use of a man’s limbs and
throw him on the parish； if he’d got no children to look to。 No； no；
it was no stroke that would let a man stand on his legs； like a horse
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between the shafts； and then walk off as soon as you can say
“Gee！” But there might be such a thing as a man’s soul being loose
from his body； and going out and in； like a bird out of its nest and
back； and that was how folks got overwise； for they went to school
in this shell…less state to those who could teach them more than
their neighbours could learn with their five senses and the parson。
And where did Master Marner get his knowledge of herbs from—
and charms too； if he liked to give them away？ Jem Rodney’s story
was no more than what might have been expected by anybody
who had seen how Marner had cured Sally Oates； and made her
sleep like a baby； when her heart had been beating enough to
burst her body； for two months and more； while she had been
under the doctor’s care。 He might cure more folks if he would； but
he was worth speaking fair； if it was only to keep him from doing
you a mischief。
It was partly to this vague fear that Marner was indebted for
protecting him from the persecution that his singularities might
have drawn upon him； but still more to the fact that； the old linen…
weaver in the neighbouring parish of Tarley being dead； his
handicraft made him a highly welcome settler to the richer
housewives of the district； and even to the more provident
cottagers； who had their little stock of yarn at the year’s end。 Their
sense of his usefulness would have counteracted any repugnance
or suspicion which was not confirmed by a deficiency in the
quality or the tale of the cloth he wove for them。 And the years had
rolled on without producing any change in the impressions of the
neighbours concerning Marner； except the change from novelty to
habit。 At the end of fifteen years the Raveloe men said just the
same things about Silas Marner as at the beginning： they did not
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say them quite so often； but they believed them much more
strongly when they did say them。 There was only one important
addition which the years had brought： it was that Master Marner
had laid by a fine sight of money somewhere； and that he could
buy up “bigger men” than himself。
But while opinion concerning him had remained nearly
stationary； and his daily habits had presented scarcely any visible
change； Marner’s inward life had been a history and a
metamorphosis； as that of every fervid nature must be when it has
fled； or been condemned to solitude。 His life； before he came to
Raveloe； had been filled with the movement； the mental activity；
and the close fellowship which； in that day as in this； marked the
life of an artisan early incorporated in a narrow religious sect；
where the poorest layman has the chance of distinguishing himself
by gifts of speech； and has； at the very least； the weight of a silent
voter in the government of his community。 Marner was highly
thought of in that little hidden world； known to itself as the church
assembling in Lantern Yard； he was believed to be a young man of
exemplary life and ardent faith； and a peculiar interest had been
centred in him ever since he had fallen； at a prayer…meeting； into a
mysterious rigidity and suspension of consciousness which； lasting
for an hour or more； had been mistaken for death。 To have sought
a medical explanation for this phenomenon would have been held
by Silas himself； as well as by his minister and fellow…members； a
wilful self…exclusion from the spiritual significance that might lie
therein。 Silas was evidently a brother selected for a peculiar
discipline； and though the effort to interpret this discipline was
discouraged by the absence； on his part； of any spiritual vision
during his outward trance； yet it was believed by himself and
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others that its effect was seen in an accession of light and fervour。
A less truthful man than he might have been tempted into the
subsequent creation of a vision in the form of resurgent memory； a
less sane man might have believed in such a creation； but Silas
was both sane and honest； though； as with many honest and
fervent men； culture had not defined any channels for his sense of
mystery； and so it spread itself over the proper pathway of inquiry
and knowledge。 He had inherited from his mother some
acquaintance with medicinal herbs and their preparation—a little
store of wisdom which she had imparted to him as a solemn
bequest—but of late years he had had doubts about the lawfulness
of applying this knowledge； believing that herbs could have no
efficacy without prayer； and that prayer might suffice without
herbs； so that his inherited delight to wander through the fields in
search of foxglove and dandelion and coltsfoot began to wear to
him the character of a temptation。
Among the members of his church
