the uncommercial traveller- 第3部分

the　tent　where　the　Christmas　Feast　was　held。　　Similarly；　one　of　the

graves　for　four　was　lying　open　and　ready；　here；　in　the　churchyard。

So　much　of　the　scanty　space　was　already　devoted　to　the　wrecked

people；　that　the　villagers　had　begun　to　express　uneasy　doubts

whether　they　themselves　could　lie　in　their　own　ground；　with　their

forefathers　and　descendants；　by…and…by。　　The　churchyard　being　but　a

step　from　the　clergyman's　dwelling…house；　we　crossed　to　the　latter；

the　white　surplice　was　hanging　up　near　the　door　ready　to　be　put　on

at　any　time；　for　a　funeral　service。



The　cheerful　earnestness　of　this　good　Christian　minister　was　as

consolatory；　as　the　circumstances　out　of　which　it　shone　were　sad。

I　never　have　seen　anything　more　delightfully　genuine　than　the　calm

dismissal　by　himself　and　his　household　of　all　they　had　undergone；

as　a　simple　duty　that　was　quietly　done　and　ended。　　In　speaking　of

it；　they　spoke　of　it　with　great　compassion　for　the　bereaved；　but

laid　no　stress　upon　their　own　hard　share　in　those　weary　weeks；

except　as　it　had　attached　many　people　to　them　as　friends；　and

elicited　many　touching　expressions　of　gratitude。　　This　clergyman's

brother　…　himself　the　clergyman　of　two　adjoining　parishes；　who　had

buried　thirty…four　of　the　bodies　in　his　own　churchyard；　and　who　had

done　to　them　all　that　his　brother　had　done　as　to　the　larger　number

…　must　be　understood　as　included　in　the　family。　　He　was　there；　with

his　neatly　arranged　papers；　and　made　no　more　account　of　his　trouble

than　anybody　else　did。　　Down　to　yesterday's　post　outward；　my

clergyman　alone　had　written　one　thousand　and　seventy…five　letters

to　relatives　and　friends　of　the　lost　people。　　In　the　absence　of

self…assertion；　it　was　only　through　my　now　and　then　delicately

putting　a　question　as　the　occasion　arose；　that　I　became　informed　of

these　things。　　It　was　only　when　I　had　remarked　again　and　again；　in

the　church；　on　the　awful　nature　of　the　scene　of　death　he　had　been

required　so　closely　to　familiarise　himself　with　for　the　soothing　of

the　living；　that　he　had　casually　said；　without　the　least　abatement

of　his　cheerfulness；　'indeed；　it　had　rendered　him　unable　for　a　time

to　eat　or　drink　more　than　a　little　coffee　now　and　then；　and　a　piece

of　bread。'



In　this　noble　modesty；　in　this　beautiful　simplicity；　in　this　serene

avoidance　of　the　least　attempt　to　'improve'　an　occasion　which　might

be　supposed　to　have　sunk　of　its　own　weight　into　my　heart；　I　seemed

to　have　happily　come；　in　a　few　steps；　from　the　churchyard　with　its

open　grave；　which　was　the　type　of　Death；　to　the　Christian　dwelling

side　by　side　with　it；　which　was　the　type　of　Resurrection。　　I　never

shall　think　of　the　former；　without　the　latter。　　The　two　will　always

rest　side　by　side　in　my　memory。　　If　I　had　lost　any　one　dear　to　me

in　this　unfortunate　ship；　if　I　had　made　a　voyage　from　Australia　to

look　at　the　grave　in　the　churchyard；　I　should　go　away；　thankful　to

GOD　that　that　house　was　so　close　to　it；　and　that　its　shadow　by　day

and　its　domestic　lights　by　night　fell　upon　the　earth　in　which　its

Master　had　so　tenderly　laid　my　dear　one's　head。



The　references　that　naturally　arose　out　of　our　conversation；　to　the

descriptions　sent　down　of　shipwrecked　persons；　and　to　the　gratitude

of　relations　and　friends；　made　me　very　anxious　to　see　some　of　those

letters。　　I　was　presently　seated　before　a　shipwreck　of　papers；　all

bordered　with　black；　and　from　them　I　made　the　following　few

extracts。



A　mother　writes：





REVEREND　SIR。　　Amongst　the　many　who　perished　on　your　shore　was

numbered　my　beloved　son。　　I　was　only　just　recovering　from　a　severe

illness；　and　this　fearful　affliction　has　caused　a　relapse；　so　that

I　am　unable　at　present　to　go　to　identify　the　remains　of　the　loved

and　lost。　　My　darling　son　would　have　been　sixteen　on　Christmas…day

next。　　He　was　a　most　amiable　and　obedient　child；　early　taught　the

way　of　salvation。　　We　fondly　hoped　that　as　a　British　seaman　he

might　be　an　ornament　to　his　profession；　but；　'it　is　well；'　I　feel

assured　my　dear　boy　is　now　with　the　redeemed。　　Oh；　he　did　not　wish

to　go　this　last　voyage！　　On　the　fifteenth　of　October；　I　received　a

letter　from　him　from　Melbourne；　date　August　twelfth；　he　wrote　in

high　spirits；　and　in　conclusion　he　says：　　'Pray　for　a　fair　breeze；

dear　mamma；　and　I'll　not　forget　to　whistle　for　it！　and；　God

permitting；　I　shall　see　you　and　all　my　little　pets　again。　　Good…

bye；　dear　mother　…　good…bye；　dearest　parents。　　Good…bye；　dear

brother。'　　Oh；　it　was　indeed　an　eternal　farewell。　　I　do　not

apologise　for　thus　writing　you；　for　oh；　my　heart　is　so　very

sorrowful。





A　husband　writes：





MY　DEAR　KIND　SIR。　　Will　you　kindly　inform　me　whether　there　are　any

initials　upon　the　ring　and　guard　you　have　in　possession；　found；　as

the　Standard　says；　last　Tuesday？　　Believe　me；　my　dear　sir；　when　I

say　that　I　cannot　express　my　deep　gratitude　in　words　sufficiently

for　your　kindness　to　me　on　that　fearful　and　appalling　day。　　Will

you　tell　me　what　I　can　do　for　you；　and　will　you　write　me　a

consoling　letter　to　prevent　my　mind　from　going　astray？





A　widow　writes：





Left　in　such　a　state　as　I　am；　my　friends　and　I　thought　it　best　that

my　dear　husband　should　be　buried　where　he　lies；　and；　much　as　I

should　have　liked　to　have　had　it　otherwise；　I　must　submit。　　I　feel；

from　all　I　have　heard　of　you；　that　you　will　see　it　done　decently

and　in　order。　　Little　does　it　signify　to　us；　when　the　soul　has

departed；　where　this　poor　body　lies；　but　we　who　are　left　behind

would　do　all　we　can　to　show　how　we　loved　them。　　This　is　denied　me；

but　it　is　God's　hand　that　afflicts　us；　and　I　try　to　submit。　　Some

day　I　may　be　able　to　visit　the　spot；　and　see　where　he　lies；　and

erect　a　simple　stone　to　his　memory。　　Oh！　it　will　be　long；　long

before　I　forget　that　dreadful　night！　　Is　there　such　a　thing　in　the

vicinity；　or　any　shop　in　Bangor；　to　which　I　could　send　for　a　small

picture　of　Moelfra　or　Llanallgo　church；　a　spot　now　sacred　to　me？





Another　widow　writes：





I　have　received　your　letter　this　morning；　and　do　thank　you　most

kindly　for　the　interest　you　have　taken　about　my　dear　husband；　as

well　for　the　sentiments　yours　contains；　evincing　the　spirit　of　a

Christian　who　can　sympathise　with　those　who；　like　myself；　are

broken　down　with　grief。



May　God　bless　and　sustain　you；　and　all　in　connection　with　you；　in

this　great　trial。　　Time　may　roll　on　and　bear　all　its　sons　away；　but

your　name　as　a　disinterested　person　will　stand　in　history；　and；　as

successive　years　pass；　many　a　widow　will　think　of　your　noble

conduct；　and　the　tears　of　gratitude　flow　down　many　a　cheek；　the

tribute　of　a　thankful　heart；　when　other　things　are　forgotten　for

ever。





A　father　writes：





I　am　at　a　loss　to　find　words　to　sufficiently　express　my　gratitude

to　you　for　your　kindness　to　my　son　Richard　upon　the　melancholy

occasion　of　his　visit　to　his　dear　brother's　body；　and　also　for　your

ready　attention　in　pronouncing　our　beautiful　burial　service　over　my

poor　unfortunate　son's　remains。　　God　grant　that　your　prayers　over

him　may　reach　the　Mercy　Seat；　and　that　his　soul　may　be　received

（through　Christ's　intercession）　into　heaven！



His　dear　mother　begs　me　to　convey　to　you　her　heartfelt　thanks。





Those　who　were　received　at　the　clergyman's　house；　write　thus；　after


leaving　it：





DEAR　AND　NEVER…TO…BE…FORGOTTEN　FRIENDS。　　I　arrived　here　yesterday

morning　without　accident；　and　am　about　to　proceed　to　my　home　by

railway。



I　am　overpowered　when　I　think　of　you　and　your　hospitable　home。　　No

words　could　speak　language　suited　to　my　heart。　　I　refrain。　　God

reward　you　with　the　same　measure　you　have　meted　with！



I　enumerate　no　names；　but　embrace　you　all。





MY　BELOVED　FRIENDS。　　This　is　the　first　day　that　I　have　been　able　to

leave　my　bedroom　since　I　returned；　which　will　explain　the　reason　of

my　not　writing　sooner。



If　I　could　only　have　had　my　last　melancholy　hope　realised　in

recovering　the　body　of　my　beloved　and　lamented　son；　I　should　have

returned　home　somewhat　comforted；　and　I　think　I　could　then　have

been　comparatively　resigned。



I　fear　now　there　is　but　little　prospect；　and　I　mourn　as　one　without

hope。



The　only　consolation　to　my　distressed　mind　is　in　having　been　so

feelingly　allowed　by　you　to　leave　the　matter　in　your　hands；　by　whom

I　well　know　that　everything　will　be　done　that　can　be；　according　to

arrangements　made　before　I　left　the　scene　of　the　awful　catastrophe；

both　as　to　the　identification　of　my　dear　son；　and　also　his

interment。



I　feel　most　anxious　to　hear　whether　anything　fresh　has　transpired

since　I　left　you；　will　you　add　another　to　the　many　deep　obligations

I　am　under　to　you　by　writing　to　me？　　And　should　the　body　of　my　dear

and　unfortunate　son　be　identified；　let　me　hear　from　you

immediately；　and　I　will　come　again。



Words　cannot　express　the　gratitude　I　feel　I　owe　to　you　all　for　your

benevolent　aid；　your　kindness；