Everything which revives the long past has power to quicken the imagination, and site-hunters and relic-hunters in any field have much to say for themselves. Now, apart altogether from the Christian story, Syria has the spell of a very ancient land. The mounds4 that break the level on the plain of Esdraelon represent six hundred years of buried history for every thirty feet of their height. Among the first objects pointed5 out to us in Palestine was a perforated stone which serves now as ventilator for a Christian meeting-house in Lebanon, but which was formerly6 a section of Zenobia’s{2} aqueduct. In Syria the realisation of the past is continual, and the centuries mingle7 in a solemn confusion. Its modern life seems of little account, and is in no way the rival of the ancient. In London, or even in Rome, the new world jostles the old; in Palestine the old is so supreme8 as to seem hardly conscious of the new.
All this reaches its keenest point in connection with men’s worship; and what a long succession of worshippers have left their traces here! The primitive9 rock-hewn altar, the Jewish synagogue, the Greek temple, the Christian church, the Mohammedan mosque—all have stood in their turn on the same site. His must be a dull soul surely who can feel no sympathy with the Moslem10, or even with the heathen worship. These religions too had human hearts beating in them, and wistful souls trying by their help to search eternity11. To the wise these dead faiths are full of meaning. Through all their clashing voices there sounds the cry of man to his God—a cry more often heard and answered than we in our self-complacency are sometimes apt to think.
The sacramental quality of the Holy Land is of course felt most by those who seek especially for memories and realisations of Jesus Christ. Within the pale of Christianity there are several different ways of regarding the land as holy, and most of them lead to disappointment. The Greek and Roman Catholic Churches vie with one another in their passion for sites and relics12 there, and seem to lose all sense of the distinction{3} between the sublime13 and the grotesque14 in their eagerness for identifications. A Protestant counterpart to this mistaken zeal15 is that of the huntsmen of the fields of prophecy, who cannot see a bat fluttering about a ruin or a mole16 turning up the earth without turning ecstatically to Hebrew prophetic books,—as if these were not the habits of bats and moles17 all the world over. Apart from either of these, there are others less orthodox but equally superstitious18 who have some vague notion of occult and magic qualities which differentiate19 this from all other regions of the earth. Benjamin Disraeli and Pierre Loti are representatives of this point of view. The former is persuaded that the land “must be endowed with marvellous and peculiar20 qualities”; and the hero of his Tancred seeks and finds there supernatural communications from the unseen world. The latter tells in his Jérusalem how he went to Palestine with the hope that some experience might be given him which would revive his lost faith in Christianity. He returned, a disappointed sentimentalist. The saddening and yet fascinating narrative21 reaches its climax22 in Gethsemane, where, beating his brow in the darkness against an olive tree, he waited (as he himself confesses) for he knows not what. His words are: “Non, rien: personne ne me voit, personne ne m’écoute, personne ne me répond.”
The belief in miracle is always difficult: nowhere is it so difficult as on the traditional site. The earth is just earth there as elsewhere; and the sky seems almost farther above it. The rock is solid rock; the water,{4} air, trees, hills are uncompromising terrestrial realities. It is wiser to abandon the attempt at forcing the supernatural to reveal itself, and to turn to the human side of things as the surest way of ultimately arriving at the divine. When that has been deliberately23 done the reward is indeed magnificent. An unexpected and overwhelming sense of reality comes upon the sacred narrative. These places and the life that inhabited them are actualities, and not merely items in an ancient book or the poetic24 background of a religious experience. More particularly when you look upward to the hills, you find that your help still cometh from them. Their great sky-lines are unchanged, and the long vistas25 and clear-cut edges which you see are the same which filled the eyes of prophets and apostles, and of Jesus Christ Himself.
It is this, especially as it regards the Saviour26 of mankind, that is the most precious gain of Syrian travel. Now and again it comes on one with overpowering force. Sailing up the coast, this impression haunted the long hours. As we gazed on the mountains, and the image of them sank deeper and deeper, the thought grew clear in all its wonder that somewhere among these heights He had wandered with His disciples27, and sat down by the sides of wells to rest. In camp at Jericho we were confronted by an uncouth28, blunt-topped mountain mass, thrusting itself aggressively up on the Judean side, in itself a very rugged29 and memorable30 mountain-edge. Not till the light was fading, and the bold outline struck blacker and blacker{5} against the sky, did the fact suddenly surprise us that this was Quarantana, the Mountain of Temptation. Then we understood that wilderness31 story in all its unprotected loneliness, and we almost saw the form of the Son of Man.
Thus, as day after day he rides through the country, the traveller finds new meaning in the words, “I have glorified32 Thee on the earth.” An inexpressible sense possesses him of the reality of Jesus Christ. These pathways were, indeed, once trodden by His feet; through these valleys He carried the lamp of life; under these stars He prayed; through this sunshine He lay in a rock-hewn grave. To a man’s dying day he will be nearer Christ for this. The chief sorrow of the Christian life for most of us is the difficulty of realisation. At times we have all had to flog up our imagination to the “realising sense” of Christ. After this journey that necessity is gone. It is almost as if in long past years we had seen Him there, and heard Him speak. The divine mystery of Christ is all the more commanding when the human fact of Jesus has become almost a memory rather than a belief.
点击收听单词发音
1 elude | |
v.躲避,困惑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 vividly | |
adv.清楚地,鲜明地,生动地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 Christian | |
adj.基督教徒的;n.基督教徒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 mounds | |
土堆,土丘( mound的名词复数 ); 一大堆 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 pointed | |
adj.尖的,直截了当的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 formerly | |
adv.从前,以前 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 mingle | |
vt.使混合,使相混;vi.混合起来;相交往 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 supreme | |
adj.极度的,最重要的;至高的,最高的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 primitive | |
adj.原始的;简单的;n.原(始)人,原始事物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 Moslem | |
n.回教徒,穆罕默德信徒;adj.回教徒的,回教的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 eternity | |
n.不朽,来世;永恒,无穷 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 relics | |
[pl.]n.遗物,遗迹,遗产;遗体,尸骸 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 sublime | |
adj.崇高的,伟大的;极度的,不顾后果的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 grotesque | |
adj.怪诞的,丑陋的;n.怪诞的图案,怪人(物) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 zeal | |
n.热心,热情,热忱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 mole | |
n.胎块;痣;克分子 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 moles | |
防波堤( mole的名词复数 ); 鼹鼠; 痣; 间谍 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 superstitious | |
adj.迷信的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 differentiate | |
vi.(between)区分;vt.区别;使不同 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 peculiar | |
adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 narrative | |
n.叙述,故事;adj.叙事的,故事体的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 climax | |
n.顶点;高潮;v.(使)达到顶点 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 deliberately | |
adv.审慎地;蓄意地;故意地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 poetic | |
adj.富有诗意的,有诗人气质的,善于抒情的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 vistas | |
长条形景色( vista的名词复数 ); 回顾; 展望; (未来可能发生的)一系列情景 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 saviour | |
n.拯救者,救星 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 disciples | |
n.信徒( disciple的名词复数 );门徒;耶稣的信徒;(尤指)耶稣十二门徒之一 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 uncouth | |
adj.无教养的,粗鲁的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 rugged | |
adj.高低不平的,粗糙的,粗壮的,强健的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 memorable | |
adj.值得回忆的,难忘的,特别的,显著的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 wilderness | |
n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等,荒漠 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 glorified | |
美其名的,变荣耀的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |