“It is the anniversary of the greatest event of time,” said Lothair; “and I should be sorry if any of my Church did not entirely2 regard it, though they may show that regard in a way different from your own.”
“Yes, yes,” murmured Lady St. Jerome; “there should be no difference between our Churches, if things were only properly understood. I would accept all who really bow to the name of Christ; they will come to the Church at last; they must. It is the atheists alone, I fear, who are now carrying every thing before them, and against whom there is no comfort, except the rock of St. Peter.”
Miss Arundel crossed the room, whispered something to her aunt, and touched her forehead with her lips, and then left the apartment.
“We must soon separate, I fear,” said Lady St. Jerome; “we have an office to-night of great moment; the Tenebrae commence to-night. You have, I think, nothing like it; but you have services throughout this week.”
“I am sorry to say I have not attended them,” said Lothair. “I did at Oxford3; but I don’t know how it is, but in London there seems no religion. And yet, as you sometimes say, religion is the great business of life; I sometimes begin to think the only business.”
“Yes, yes,” said Lady St. Jerome, with much interest, “if you believe that you are safe. I wish you had a clergyman near you while you are here. See Mr. Claughton, if you like; I would; and, if you do not, there is Father Coleman. I cannot convey to you how satisfactory conversation is with him on religious matters. He is the holiest of men, and yet he is a man of the world; he will not invite you into any controversies4. He will speak with you only on points on which we agree. You know there are many points on which we agree?”
“Happily,” said Lothair. “And now about the office to-night: tell me about these Tenebrae. Is there any thing in the Tenebrae why I ought not to be present?”
“No reason whatever; not a dogma which you do not believe; not a ceremony of which you cannot approve. There are Psalms5, at the end of which a light on the altar is extinguished. There is the Song of Moses, the Canticle of Zachary, the Miserere—which is the 50th Psalm6 you read and chant regularly in your church—the Lord’s Prayer in silence; and then all is darkness and distress—what the Church was when our Lord suffered, what the whole world is now except His Church.”
“If you will permit me,” said Lothair, “I will accompany you to the Tenebrae.”
Although the chapel7 at Vauxe was, of course, a private chapel, it was open to the surrounding public, who eagerly availed themselves of a permission alike politic8 and gracious.
Nor was that remarkable9. Manifold art had combined to create this exquisite10 temple, and to guide all its ministrations. But to-night it was not the radiant altar and the splendor11 of stately priests, the processions and the incense12, the divine choir13 and the celestial14 harmonies resounding15 lingering in arched roofs, that attracted many a neighbor. The altar was desolate16, the choir was dumb; and while the services proceeded in hushed tones of subdued17 sorrow, and sometimes even of suppressed anguish18, gradually, with each psalm and canticle, a light of the altar was extinguished, till at length the Miserere was muttered, and all became darkness. A sound as of a distant and rising wind was heard, and a crash, as it were the fall of trees in a storm. The earth is covered with darkness, and the veil of the temple is rent. But just at this moment of extreme woe19, when all human voices are silent, and when it is forbidden even to breathe “Amen”—when every thing is symbolical20 of the confusion and despair of the Church at the loss of her expiring Lord—a priest brings forth21 a concealed22 light of silvery flame from a corner of the altar. This is the light of the world, and announced the resurrection, and then all rise up and depart in silence.
As Lothair rose, Miss Arundel passed him with streaming eyes.
“There is nothing in this holy office,” said Father Coleman to Lothair, “to which every real Christian23 might not give his assent24.”
“Nothing,” said Lothair, with great decision.
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1 scruple | |
n./v.顾忌,迟疑 | |
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2 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
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3 Oxford | |
n.牛津(英国城市) | |
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4 controversies | |
争论 | |
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5 psalms | |
n.赞美诗( psalm的名词复数 );圣诗;圣歌;(中的) | |
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6 psalm | |
n.赞美诗,圣诗 | |
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7 chapel | |
n.小教堂,殡仪馆 | |
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8 politic | |
adj.有智虑的;精明的;v.从政 | |
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9 remarkable | |
adj.显著的,异常的,非凡的,值得注意的 | |
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10 exquisite | |
adj.精美的;敏锐的;剧烈的,感觉强烈的 | |
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11 splendor | |
n.光彩;壮丽,华丽;显赫,辉煌 | |
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12 incense | |
v.激怒;n.香,焚香时的烟,香气 | |
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13 choir | |
n.唱诗班,唱诗班的席位,合唱团,舞蹈团;v.合唱 | |
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14 celestial | |
adj.天体的;天上的 | |
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15 resounding | |
adj. 响亮的 | |
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16 desolate | |
adj.荒凉的,荒芜的;孤独的,凄凉的;v.使荒芜,使孤寂 | |
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17 subdued | |
adj. 屈服的,柔和的,减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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18 anguish | |
n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦,烦恼 | |
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19 woe | |
n.悲哀,苦痛,不幸,困难;int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
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20 symbolical | |
a.象征性的 | |
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21 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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22 concealed | |
a.隐藏的,隐蔽的 | |
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23 Christian | |
adj.基督教徒的;n.基督教徒 | |
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24 assent | |
v.批准,认可;n.批准,认可 | |
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