By dwelling8 near a church a person soon contracts an attachment9 for the edifice10. We naturally personify it, and conceive its massy walls and its dim emptiness to be instinct with a calm and meditative11 and somewhat melancholy12 spirit. But the steeple stands foremost in our thoughts, as well as locally. It impresses us as a giant with a mind comprehensive and discriminating13 enough to care for the great and small concerns of all the town. Hourly, while it speaks a moral to the few that think, it reminds thousands of busy individuals of their separate and most secret affairs. It is the steeple, too, that flings abroad the hurried and irregular accents of general alarm; neither have gladness and festivity found a better utterance14 than by its tongue; and when the dead are slowly passing to their home, the steeple has a melancholy voice to bid them welcome. Yet, in spite of this connection with human interests, what a moral loneliness on week-days broods round about its stately height! It has no kindred with the houses above which it towers; it looks down into the narrow thoroughfare — the lonelier because the crowd are elbowing their passage at its base. A glance at the body of the church deepens this impression. Within, by the light of distant windows, amid refracted shadows we discern the vacant pews and empty galleries, the silent organ, the voiceless pulpit and the clock which tells to solitude15 how time is passing. Time — where man lives not — what is it but eternity16? And in the church, we might suppose, are garnered17 up throughout the week all thoughts and feelings that have reference to eternity, until the holy day comes round again to let them forth18. Might not, then, its more appropriate site be in the outskirts19 of the town, with space for old trees to wave around it and throw their solemn shadows over a quiet green? We will say more of this hereafter.
But on the Sabbath I watch the earliest sunshine and fancy that a holier brightness marks the day when there shall be no buzz of voices on the Exchange nor traffic in the shops, nor crowd nor business anywhere but at church. Many have fancied so. For my own part, whether I see it scattered20 down among tangled21 woods, or beaming broad across the fields, or hemmed22 in between brick buildings, or tracing out the figure of the casement23 on my chamber floor, still I recognize the Sabbath sunshine. And ever let me recognize it! Some illusions — and this among them — are the shadows of great truths. Doubts may flit around me or seem to close their evil wings and settle down, but so long as I imagine that the earth is hallowed and the light of heaven retains its sanctity on the Sabbath — while that blessed sunshine lives within me — never can my soul have lost the instinct of its faith. If it have gone astray, it will return again.
I love to spend such pleasant Sabbaths from morning till night behind the curtain of my open window. Are they spent amiss? Every spot so near the church as to be visited by the circling shadow of the steeple should be deemed consecrated24 ground today. With stronger truth be it said that a devout26 heart may consecrate25 a den27 of thieves, as an evil one may convert a temple to the same. My heart, perhaps, has no such holy, nor, I would fain trust, such impious, potency29. It must suffice that, though my form be absent, my inner man goes constantly to church, while many whose bodily presence fills the accustomed seats have left their souls at home. But I am there even before my friend the sexton. At length he comes — a man of kindly30 but sombre aspect, in dark gray clothes, and hair of the same mixture. He comes and applies his key to the wide portal. Now my thoughts may go in among the dusty pews or ascend31 the pulpit without sacrilege, but soon come forth again to enjoy the music of the bell. How glad, yet solemn too! All the steeples in town are talking together aloft in the sunny air and rejoicing among themselves while their spires32 point heavenward. Meantime, here are the children assembling to the Sabbath-school, which is kept somewhere within the church. Often, while looking at the arched portal, I have been gladdened by the sight of a score of these little girls and boys in pink, blue, yellow and crimson33 frocks bursting suddenly forth into the sunshine like a swarm34 of gay butterflies that had been shut up in the solemn gloom. Or I might compare them to cherubs35 haunting that holy place.
About a quarter of an hour before the second ringing of the bell individuals of the congregation begin to appear. The earliest is invariably an old woman in black whose bent36 frame and rounded shoulders are evidently laden37 with some heavy affliction which she is eager to rest upon the altar. Would that the Sabbath came twice as often, for the sake of that sorrowful old soul! There is an elderly man, also, who arrives in good season and leans against the corner of the tower, just within the line of its shadow, looking downward with a darksome brow. I sometimes fancy that the old woman is the happier of the two. After these, others drop in singly and by twos and threes, either disappearing through the doorway38 or taking their stand in its vicinity. At last, and always with an unexpected sensation, the bell turns in the steeple overhead and throws out an irregular clangor, jarring the tower to its foundation. As if there were magic in the sound, the sidewalks of the street, both up and down along, are immediately thronged39 with two long lines of people, all converging40 hitherward and streaming into the church. Perhaps the far-off roar of a coach draws nearer — a deeper thunder by its contrast with the surrounding stillness — until it sets down the wealthy worshippers at the portal among their humblest brethren. Beyond that entrance — in theory, at least — there are no distinctions of earthly rank; nor, indeed, by the goodly apparel which is flaunting41 in the sun would there seem to be such on the hither side. Those pretty girls! Why will they disturb my pious28 meditations42? Of all days in the week, they should strive to look least fascinating on the Sabbath, instead of heightening their mortal loveliness, as if to rival the blessed angels and keep our thoughts from heaven. Were I the minister himself, I must needs look. One girl is white muslin from the waist upward and black silk downward to her slippers43; a second blushes from top-knot to shoe-tie, one universal scarlet44; another shines of a pervading45 yellow, as if she had made a garment of the sunshine. The greater part, however, have adopted a milder cheerfulness of hue46. Their veils, especially when the wind raises them, give a lightness to the general effect and make them appear like airy phantoms47 as they flit up the steps and vanish into the sombre doorway. Nearly all — though it is very strange that I should know it — wear white stockings, white as snow, and neat slippers laced crosswise with black ribbon pretty high above the ankles. A white stocking is infinitely48 more effective than a black one.
Here comes the clergyman, slow and solemn, in severe simplicity49, needing no black silk gown to denote his office. His aspect claims my reverence50, but cannot win my love. Were I to picture Saint Peter keeping fast the gate of Heaven and frowning, more stern than pitiful, on the wretched applicants51, that face should be my study. By middle age, or sooner, the creed52 has generally wrought53 upon the heart or been attempered by it. As the minister passes into the church the bell holds its iron tongue and all the low murmur54 of the congregation dies away. The gray sexton looks up and down the street and then at my window-curtain, where through the small peephole I half fancy that he has caught my eye. Now every loiterer has gone in and the street lies asleep in the quiet sun, while a feeling of loneliness comes over me, and brings also an uneasy sense of neglected privileges and duties. Oh, I ought to have gone to church! The bustle55 of the rising congregation reaches my ears. They are standing56 up to pray. Could I bring my heart into unison57 with those who are praying in yonder church and lift it heavenward with a fervor58 of supplication59, but no distinct request, would not that be the safest kind of prayer? — “Lord, look down upon me in mercy!” With that sentiment gushing60 from my soul, might I not leave all the rest to him?
Hark! the hymn61! This, at least, is a portion of the service which I can enjoy better than if I sat within the walls, where the full choir62 and the massive melody of the organ would fall with a weight upon me. At this distance it thrills through my frame and plays upon my heart-strings with a pleasure both of the sense and spirit. Heaven be praised! I know nothing of music as a science, and the most elaborate harmonies, if they please me, please as simply as a nurse’s lullaby. The strain has ceased, but prolongs itself in my mind with fanciful echoes till I start from my reverie and find that the sermon has commenced. It is my misfortune seldom to fructify63 in a regular way by any but printed sermons. The first strong idea which the preacher utters gives birth to a train of thought and leads me onward64 step by step quite out of hearing of the good man’s voice unless he be indeed a son of thunder. At my open window, catching65 now and then a sentence of the “parson’s saw,” I am as well situated66 as at the foot of the pulpit stairs. The broken and scattered fragments of this one discourse67 will be the texts of many sermons preached by those colleague pastors68 — colleagues, but often disputants — my Mind and Heart. The former pretends to be a scholar and perplexes me with doctrinal points; the latter takes me on the score of feeling; and both, like several other preachers, spend their strength to very little purpose. I, their sole auditor69, cannot always understand them.
Suppose that a few hours have passed, and behold70 me still behind my curtain just before the close of the afternoon service. The hour-hand on the dial has passed beyond four o’clock. The declining sun is hidden behind the steeple and throws its shadow straight across the street; so that my chamber is darkened as with a cloud. Around the church door all is solitude, and an impenetrable obscurity beyond the threshold. A commotion71 is heard. The seats are slammed down and the pew doors thrown back; a multitude of feet are trampling72 along the unseen aisles73, and the congregation bursts suddenly through the portal. Foremost scampers74 a rabble75 of boys, behind whom moves a dense76 and dark phalanx of grown men, and lastly a crowd of females with young children and a few scattered husbands. This instantaneous outbreak of life into loneliness is one of the pleasantest scenes of the day. Some of the good people are rubbing their eyes, thereby77 intimating that they have been wrapped, as it were, in a sort of holy trance by the fervor of their devotion. There is a young man, a third-rate coxcomb78, whose first care is always to flourish a white handkerchief and brush the seat of a tight pair of black silk pantaloons which shine as if varnished79. They must have been made of the stuff called “everlasting,” or perhaps of the same piece as Christian’s garments in the Pilgrim’s Progress, for he put them on two summers ago and has not yet worn the gloss80 off. I have taken a great liking81 to those black silk pantaloons. But now, with nods and greetings among friends, each matron takes her husband’s arm and paces gravely homeward, while the girls also flutter away after arranging sunset walks with their favored bachelors. The Sabbath eve is the eve of love. At length the whole congregation is dispersed82. No; here, with faces as glossy83 as black satin, come two sable84 ladies and a sable gentleman, and close in their rear the minister, who softens85 his severe visage and bestows86 a kind word on each. Poor souls! To them the most captivating picture of bliss87 in heaven is “There we shall be white!”
All is solitude again. But hark! A broken warbling of voices, and now, attuning88 its grandeur89 to their sweetness, a stately peal90 of the organ. Who are the choristers? Let me dream that the angels who came down from heaven this blessed morn to blend themselves with the worship of the truly good are playing and singing their farewell to the earth. On the wings of that rich melody they were borne upward.
This, gentle reader, is merely a flight of poetry. A few of the singing-men and singing-women had lingered behind their fellows and raised their voices fitfully and blew a careless note upon the organ. Yet it lifted my soul higher than all their former strains. They are gone — the sons and daughters of Music — and the gray sexton is just closing the portal. For six days more there will be no face of man in the pews and aisles and galleries, nor a voice in the pulpit, nor music in the choir. Was it worth while to rear this massive edifice to be a desert in the heart of the town and populous91 only for a few hours of each seventh day? Oh, but the church is a symbol of religion. May its site, which was consecrated on the day when the first tree was felled, be kept holy for ever, a spot of solitude and peace amid the trouble and vanity of our week-day world! There is a moral, and a religion too, even in the silent walls. And may the steeple still point heavenward and be decked with the hallowed sunshine of the Sabbath morn!
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1
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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lustre
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| n.光亮，光泽；荣誉 | |
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3
spire
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| n.(教堂)尖顶，尖塔，高点 | |
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glisten
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| vi.（光洁或湿润表面等）闪闪发光，闪闪发亮 | |
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gilded
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| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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8
dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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attachment
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| n.附属物，附件；依恋；依附 | |
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edifice
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| n.宏伟的建筑物(如宫殿，教室) | |
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meditative
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| adj.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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discriminating
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| a.有辨别能力的 | |
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utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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eternity
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| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
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17
garnered
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| v.收集并（通常）贮藏（某物），取得，获得( garner的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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18
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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outskirts
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| n.郊外，郊区 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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22
hemmed
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| 缝…的褶边( hem的过去式和过去分词 )； 包围 | |
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23
casement
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| n.竖铰链窗；窗扉 | |
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24
consecrated
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| adj.神圣的，被视为神圣的v.把…奉为神圣，给…祝圣( consecrate的过去式和过去分词 )；奉献 | |
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25
consecrate
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| v.使圣化，奉…为神圣；尊崇；奉献 | |
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26
devout
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| adj.虔诚的，虔敬的，衷心的 (n.devoutness) | |
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den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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potency
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| n. 效力，潜能 | |
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30
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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31
ascend
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| vi.渐渐上升，升高；vt.攀登，登上 | |
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32
spires
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| n.（教堂的） 塔尖，尖顶( spire的名词复数 ) | |
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33
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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swarm
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| n.(昆虫)等一大群；vi.成群飞舞；蜂拥而入 | |
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cherubs
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| 小天使，胖娃娃( cherub的名词复数 ) | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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thronged
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| v.成群，挤满( throng的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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40
converging
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| adj.收敛[缩]的，会聚的，趋同的v.（线条、运动的物体等）会于一点( converge的现在分词 )；（趋于）相似或相同；人或车辆汇集；聚集 | |
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41
flaunting
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| adj.招摇的，扬扬得意的，夸耀的v.炫耀，夸耀( flaunt的现在分词 )；有什么能耐就施展出来 | |
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42
meditations
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| 默想( meditation的名词复数 )； 默念； 沉思； 冥想 | |
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43
slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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44
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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45
pervading
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| v.遍及，弥漫( pervade的现在分词 ) | |
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46
hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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47
phantoms
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| n.鬼怪，幽灵( phantom的名词复数 ) | |
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48
infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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49
simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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50
reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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51
applicants
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| 申请人，求职人( applicant的名词复数 ) | |
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52
creed
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| n.信条；信念，纲领 | |
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53
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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54
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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55
bustle
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| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
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56
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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unison
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| n.步调一致，行动一致 | |
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fervor
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| n.热诚；热心；炽热 | |
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supplication
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| n.恳求，祈愿，哀求 | |
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gushing
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| adj.迸出的；涌出的；喷出的；过分热情的v.喷，涌( gush的现在分词 )；滔滔不绝地说话 | |
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hymn
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌 | |
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choir
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| n.唱诗班，唱诗班的席位，合唱团，舞蹈团；v.合唱 | |
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63
fructify
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| v.结果实；使土地肥沃 | |
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onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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discourse
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| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
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pastors
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| n.（基督教的）牧师( pastor的名词复数 ) | |
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auditor
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| n.审计员，旁听着 | |
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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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commotion
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| n.骚动，动乱 | |
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trampling
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| 踩( trample的现在分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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aisles
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| n. (席位间的)通道, 侧廊 | |
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74
scampers
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| v.蹦蹦跳跳地跑，惊惶奔跑( scamper的第三人称单数 ) | |
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75
rabble
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| n.乌合之众，暴民；下等人 | |
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76
dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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77
thereby
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| adv.因此，从而 | |
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coxcomb
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| n.花花公子 | |
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varnished
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| 浸渍过的，涂漆的 | |
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80
gloss
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| n.光泽，光滑；虚饰；注释；vt.加光泽于；掩饰 | |
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81
liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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82
dispersed
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| adj. 被驱散的, 被分散的, 散布的 | |
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83
glossy
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| adj.平滑的；有光泽的 | |
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84
sable
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| n.黑貂；adj.黑色的 | |
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85
softens
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| （使）变软( soften的第三人称单数 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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86
bestows
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的第三人称单数 ) | |
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87
bliss
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| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
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88
attuning
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| v.使协调( attune的现在分词 )；调音 | |
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89
grandeur
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| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
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90
peal
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| n.钟声；v.鸣响 | |
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91
populous
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| adj.人口稠密的，人口众多的 | |
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