It was Sunday morning; and the church bells were all ringing together. From all the neighbouring villages, came the solemn, joyful1 sounds, floating through the sunny air, mellow2 and faint and low,--all mingling3 into one harmonious4 chime, like the sound of some distant organ in heaven. Anon they ceased; and the woods, and the clouds, and the whole village, and the very air itself seemed to pray, so silent was it everywhere.
Two venerable old men,--high priests and patriarchs were they in the land,--went up the pulpit stairs, as Moses and Aaron went up Mount Hor, in the sight of all the congregation,--for the pulpit stairs were in front, and very high.
Paul Flemming will never forget the sermon he heard that day,--no, not even if he should live to be as old as he who preached it. The text was, "I know that my Redeemer liveth." It was meant to console the pious5, poor widow, who sat right below him at the foot of the pulpit stairs, all in black, and her heart breaking. He said nothing of the terrors of death, nor of the gloom of the narrow house, but, looking beyond these things, as mere6 circumstances to which the imagination mainly gives importance, he told his hearers of the innocence7 of childhood upon earth, and the holiness of childhood in heaven, and how the beautiful Lord Jesus was once a little child, and now in heaven the spirits of little children walked with him, and gathered flowers in the fields of Paradise. Good old man! In behalf of humanity, I thank thee for these benignant words! And, still more than I, the bereaved8 mother thanked thee, and from that hour, though she wept in secret for her child, yet
"She knew he was with Jesus,
And she asked him not again."
After the sermon, Paul Flemming walked forth9 alone into the churchyard. There was no one there, save a little boy, who was fishing with a pin hook in a grave half full of water. But a few moments afterward10, through the arched gateway11 under the belfry, came a funeral procession. At its head walked a priest in white surplice, chanting. Peasants, old and young, followed him, with burning tapers12 in their hands. A young girl carried in her arms a dead child, wrapped in its little winding13 sheet. The grave was close under the wall, by the church door. A vase of holy water stood beside it. The sexton took the child from the girl's arms, and put it into a coffin14; and, as he placed it in the grave, the girl held over it a cross, wreathed with roses, and the priest and peasants sang a funeral hymn15. When this was over, the priest sprinkled the grave and the crowd with holy water; and then they all went into the church, each one stopping as he passed the grave to throw a handful of earth into it, and sprinkle it with holy water.
A few moments afterwards, the voice of the priest was heard saying mass in the church, and Flemming saw the toothless old sexton treading the fresh earth into the grave of the little child, with his clouted16 shoes. He approached him, and asked the age of the deceased. The sexton leaned a moment on his spade, and shrugging his shoulders replied;
"Only an hour or two. It was born in the night, and died this morning early?"
"A brief existence," said Flemming. "The child seems to have been born only to be buried, and have its name recorded on a wooden tombstone."
The sexton went on with his work, and made no reply. Flemming still lingered among the graves, gazing with wonder at the strange devices, by which man has rendered death horrible and the grave loathsome17.
In the Temple of Juno at Elis, Sleep and his twin-brother Death were represented as children reposing18 in the arms of Night. On various funeral monuments of the ancients the Genius of Death issculptured as a beautiful youth, leaning on an inverted19 torch, in the attitude of repose20, his wings folded and his feet crossed. In such peaceful and attractive forms, did the imagination of ancient poets and sculptors21 represent death. And these were men in whose souls the religion of Nature was like the light of stars, beautiful, but faint and cold! Strange, that in later days, this angel of God, which leads us with a gentle hand, into the "Land of the great departed, into the silent Land," should have been transformed into a monstrous22 and terrific thing! Such is the spectral23 rider on the white horse;--such the ghastly skeleton with scythe24 and hour-glass;--the Reaper25, whose name is Death!
One of the most popular themes of poetry and painting in the Middle Ages, and continuing down even into modern times, was the Dance of Death. In almost all languages is it written,--the apparition26 of the grim spectre, putting a sudden stop to all business, and leading men away into the "remarkable27 retirement29" of the grave. Itis written in an ancient Spanish Poem, and painted on a wooden bridge in Switzerland. The designs of Holbein are well known. The most striking among them is that, where, from a group of children sitting round a cottage hearth30, Death has taken one by the hand, and is leading it out of the door. Quietly and unresisting goes the little child, and in its countenance31 no grief, but wonder only; while the other children are weeping and stretching forth their hands in vain towards their departing brother. A beautiful design it is, in all save the skeleton. An angel had been better, with folded wings, and torch inverted!
And now the sun was growing high and warm. A little chapel32, whose door stood open, seemed to invite Flemming to enter and enjoy the grateful coolness. He went in. There was no one there. The walls were covered with paintings and sculpture of the rudest kind, and with a few funeral tablets. There was nothing there to move the heart to devotion; but in that hour the heart of Flemming was weak,--weak as a child's. He bowed hisstubborn knees, and wept. And oh! how many disappointed hopes, how many bitter recollections, how much of wounded pride, and unrequited love, were in those tears, through which he read on a marble tablet in the chapel wall opposite, this singular inscription34;
"Look not mournfully into the Past. It comes not back again. Wisely improve the Present. It is thine. Go forth to meet the shadowy Future, without fear, and with a manly35 heart."
It seemed to him, as if the unknown tenant36 of that grave had opened his lips of dust, and spoken to him the words of consolation37, which his soul needed, and which no friend had yet spoken. In a moment the anguish38 of his thoughts was still. The stone was rolled away from the door of his heart; death was no longer there, but an angel clothed in white. He stood up, and his eyes were no more bleared with tears; and, looking into the bright, morning heaven, he said;
"I will be strong!"
Men sometimes go down into tombs, with painfullongings to behold40 once more the faces of their departed friends; and as they gaze upon them, lying there so peacefully with the semblance41, that they wore on earth, the sweet breath of heaven touches them, and the features crumble42 and fall together, and are but dust. So did his soul then descend43 for the last time into the great tomb of the Past, with painful longings39 to behold once more the dear faces of those he had loved; and the sweet breath of heaven touched them, and they would not stay, but crumbled44 away and perished as he gazed. They, too, were dust. And thus, far-sounding, he heard the great gate of the Past shut behind him as the Divine Poet did the gate of Paradise, when the angel pointed33 him the way up the Holy Mountain; and to him likewise was it forbidden to look back.
In the life of every man, there are sudden transitions of feeling, which seem almost miraculous45. At once, as if some magician had touched the heavens and the earth, the dark clouds melt into the air, the wind falls, and serenity46 succeedsthe storm. The causes which produce these sudden changes may have been long at work within us, but the changes themselves are instantaneous, and apparently47 without sufficient cause. It was so with Flemming; and from that hour forth he resolved, that he would no longer veer48 with every shifting wind of circumstance; no longer be a child's plaything in the hands of Fate, which we ourselves do make or mar28. He resolved henceforward not to lean on others; but to walk self-confident and self-possessed; no longer to waste his years in vain regrets, nor wait the fulfilment of boundless49 hopes and indiscreet desires; but to live in the Present wisely, alike forgetful of the Past, and careless of what the mysterious Future might bring. And from that moment he was calm, and strong; he was reconciled with himself! His thoughts turned to his distant home beyond the sea. An indescribable, sweet feeling rose within him.
"Thither50 will I turn my wandering footsteps," said he; "and be a man among men, and no longer a dreamer among shadows. Henceforth bemine a life of action and reality! I will work in my own sphere, nor wish it other than it is. This alone is health and happiness. This alone is Life;
'Life that shall send
A challenge to its end,
And when it comes, say, Welcome, friend!'
Why have I not made these sage51 reflections, this wise resolve, sooner? Can such a simple result spring only from the long and intricate process of experience? Alas52! it is not till Time, with reckless hand, has torn out half the leaves from the Book of Human Life, to light the fires of passion with, from day to day, that Man begins to see, that the leaves which remain are few in number, and to remember, faintly at first, and then more clearly, that, upon the earlier pages of that book, was written a story of happy innocence, which he would fain read over again. Then come listless irresolution53, and the inevitable54 inaction of despair; or else the firm resolve to record upon the leaves that still remain, a more noble history, than the child's story, with which the book began."
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1
joyful
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| adj.欢乐的，令人欢欣的 | |
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mellow
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| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
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mingling
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| adj.混合的 | |
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harmonious
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| adj.和睦的，调和的，和谐的，协调的 | |
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pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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7
innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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8
bereaved
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| adj.刚刚丧失亲人的v.使失去（希望、生命等）( bereave的过去式和过去分词)；（尤指死亡）使丧失（亲人、朋友等）；使孤寂；抢走（财物） | |
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9
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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gateway
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| n.大门口，出入口，途径，方法 | |
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tapers
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| （长形物体的）逐渐变窄( taper的名词复数 )； 微弱的光； 极细的蜡烛 | |
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winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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coffin
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| n.棺材，灵柩 | |
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hymn
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌 | |
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clouted
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| adj.缀补的，凝固的v.（尤指用手）猛击，重打( clout的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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17
loathsome
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| adj.讨厌的，令人厌恶的 | |
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18
reposing
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| v.将（手臂等）靠在某人（某物）上( repose的现在分词 ) | |
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inverted
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| adj.反向的，倒转的v.使倒置，使反转( invert的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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sculptors
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| 雕刻家，雕塑家( sculptor的名词复数 )； [天]玉夫座 | |
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22
monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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spectral
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| adj.幽灵的，鬼魂的 | |
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scythe
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| n. 长柄的大镰刀，战车镰； v. 以大镰刀割 | |
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reaper
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| n.收割者，收割机 | |
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apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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28
mar
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| vt.破坏，毁坏，弄糟 | |
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retirement
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| n.退休，退职 | |
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30
hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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31
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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32
chapel
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| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
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33
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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34
inscription
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| n.（尤指石块上的）刻印文字，铭文，碑文 | |
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35
manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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tenant
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| n.承租人；房客；佃户；v.租借，租用 | |
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37
consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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38
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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longings
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| 渴望，盼望( longing的名词复数 ) | |
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40
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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41
semblance
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| n.外貌，外表 | |
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42
crumble
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| vi.碎裂，崩溃；vt.弄碎，摧毁 | |
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43
descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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44
crumbled
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| （把…）弄碎， （使）碎成细屑( crumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 衰落； 坍塌； 损坏 | |
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45
miraculous
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| adj.像奇迹一样的，不可思议的 | |
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46
serenity
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| n.宁静，沉着，晴朗 | |
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47
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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48
veer
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| vt.转向，顺时针转，改变；n.转向 | |
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49
boundless
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| adj.无限的；无边无际的；巨大的 | |
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50
thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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51
sage
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| n.圣人，哲人；adj.贤明的，明智的 | |
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52
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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53
irresolution
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| n.不决断，优柔寡断，犹豫不定 | |
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54
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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