"Hawthorne, Nathaniel - The Celestial Railroad" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hawthorne Nathaniel)

apprehensions to Mr. Smooth-it-away, he assured me that the
difficulties of this passage, even in its worst condition, had been
vastly exaggerated, and that, in its present state of improvement, I
might consider myself as safe as on any railroad in Christendom.

Even while we were speaking, the train shot into the entrance of
this dreaded Valley. Though I plead guilty to some foolish
palpitations of the heart, during our headlong rush over the
causeway here constructed, yet it were unjust to withhold the
highest encomiums on the boldness of its original conception, and
the ingenuity of those who executed it. It was gratifying, likewise,
to observe how much care had been taken to dispel the everlasting
gloom, and supply the defect of cheerful sunshine; not a ray of
which has ever penetrated among these awful shadows. For this purpose,
the inflammable gas, which exudes plentifully from the soil, is
collected by means of pipes, and thence communicated to a quadruple
row of lamps, along the whole extent of the passage. Thus a radiance
has been created, even out of the fiery and sulphurous curse that
rests for ever upon the Valley; a radiance hurtful, however, to the
eyes, and somewhat bewildering, as I discovered by the changes which
it wrought in the visages of my companions. In this respect, as
compared with natural daylight, there is the same difference as
between truth and falsehood; but if the reader have ever travelled
through the dark Valley, he will have learned to be thankful for any
light that he could get; if not from the sky above, then from the
blasted soil beneath. Such was the red brilliancy of these lamps, that
they appeared to build walls of fire on both sides of the track,
between which we held our course at lightning speed, while a
reverberating thunder filled the Valley with its echoes. Had the
engine run off the track- a catastrophe, it is whispered, by no
means unprecedented- the bottomless pit, if there be any such place,
would undoubtedly have received us. Just as some dismal fooleries of
this nature had made my heart quake, there came a tremendous shriek,
careering along the Valley as if a thousand devils had burst their
lungs to utter it, but which proved to be merely the whistle of the
engine, on arriving at a stopping-place.

The spot, where we had now paused, is the same that our friend
Bunyan- truthful man, but infected with many fantastic notions- has
designated, in terms plainer than I like to repeat, as the mouth of
the infernal region. This, however, must be a mistake; inasmuch as Mr.
Smooth-it-away, while we remained in the smoky and lurid cavern,
took occasion to prove that Tophet has not even a metaphorical
existence. The place, he assured us, is no other than the crater of
a half-extinct volcano, in which the Directors had caused forges to be
set up, for the manufacture of railroad iron. Hence, also, is obtained
a plentiful supply of fuel for the use of the engines. Whoever had
gazed into the dismal obscurity of the broad cavern-mouth, whence ever
and anon darted huge tongues of dusky flame- and had seen the strange,
half-shaped monsters, and visions of faces horribly grotesque, into