CHAPTER II.

Evenpeoplewhoseliveshavebeenmadevariousbylearning,sometimesfindithardtokeepafastholdontheirhabitualviewsoflife,ontheirfaithintheInvisible,nay,onthesensethattheirpastjoysandsorrowsarearealexperience,whentheyaresuddenlytransportedtoanewland,wherethebeingsaroundthemknownothingoftheirhistory,andsharenoneoftheirideas—wheretheirmotherearthshowsanotherlap,andhumanlifehasotherformsthanthoseonwhichtheirsoulshavebeennourished.Mindsthathavebeenunhingedfromtheiroldfaithandlove,haveperhapssoughtthisLetheaninfluenceofexile,inwhichthepastbecomesdreamybecauseitssymbolshaveallvanished,andthepresenttooisdreamybecauseitislinkedwithnomemories.ButeventheirexperiencemayhardlyenablethemthoroughlytoimaginewhatwastheeffectonasimpleweaverlikeSilasMarner,whenhelefthisowncountryandpeopleandcametosettleinRaveloe.Nothingcouldbemoreunlikehisnativetown,setwithinsightofthewidespreadhillsides,thanthislow,woodedregion,wherehefelthiddenevenfromtheheavensbythescreeningtreesandhedgerows.Therewasnothinghere,whenheroseinthedeepmorningquietandlookedoutonthedewybramblesandranktuftedgrass,thatseemedtohaveanyrelationwiththatlifecentringinLanternYard,whichhadoncebeentohimthealtar-placeofhighdispensations.Thewhitewashedwallsthelittlepewswherewell-knownfiguresenteredwithasubduedrustling,andwherefirstonewell-knownvoiceandthenanother,pitchedinapeculiarkeyofpetition,utteredphrasesatonceoccultandfamiliar,liketheamuletwornontheheartthepulpitwheretheministerdeliveredunquestioneddoctrine,andswayedtoandfro,andhandledthebookinalongaccustomedmannertheverypausesbetweenthecoupletsofthehymn,asitwasgivenout,andtherecurrentswellofvoicesinsong:thesethingshadbeenthechannelofdivineinfluencestoMarner—theywerethefosteringhomeofhisreligiousemotions—theywereChristianityandGod’skingdomuponearth.Aweaverwhofindshardwordsinhishymn-bookknowsnothingofabstractionsasthelittlechildknowsnothingofparentallove,butonlyknowsonefaceandonelaptowardswhichitstretchesitsarmsforrefugeandnurture. AndwhatcouldbemoreunlikethatLanternYardworldthantheworldinRaveloe?—orchardslookinglazywithneglectedplentythelargechurchinthewidechurchyard,whichmengazedatloungingattheirowndoorsinservice-timethepurple-facedfarmersjoggingalongthelanesorturninginattheRainbowhomesteads,wheremensuppedheavilyandsleptinthelightoftheeveninghearth,andwherewomenseemedtobelayingupastockoflinenforthelifetocome.TherewerenolipsinRaveloefromwhichawordcouldfallthatwouldstirSilasMarner’sbenumbedfaithtoasenseofpain.Intheearlyagesoftheworld,weknow,itwasbelievedthateachterritorywasinhabitedandruledbyitsowndivinities,sothatamancouldcrosstheborderingheightsandbeoutofthereachofhisnativegods,whosepresencewasconfinedtothestreamsandthegrovesandthehillsamongwhichhehadlivedfromhisbirth.AndpoorSilaswasvaguelyconsciousofsomethingnotunlikethefeelingofprimitivemen,whentheyfledthus,infearorinsullenness,fromthefaceofanunpropitiousdeity.ItseemedtohimthatthePowerhehadvainlytrustedinamongthestreetsandatthepr