the uncommercial traveller-第24章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！



signing　the　General　Inspection　report　relative　to　the　ship　Great

Tasmania；　chartered　for　these　troops；　had　deliberately　asserted　all

that　bad　and　poisonous　dunghill　refuse；　to　be　good　and　wholesome

food？'　　My　official　friend　replied　that　it　was　a　remarkable　fact；


that　whereas　some　officers　were　only　positively　good；　and　other

officers　only　comparatively　better；　those　particular　officers　were

superlatively　the　very　best　of　all　possible　officers。



My　hand　and　my　heart　fail　me；　in　writing　my　record　of　this　journey。

The　spectacle　of　the　soldiers　in　the　hospital…beds　of　that

Liverpool　workhouse　（a　very　good　workhouse；　indeed；　be　it

understood）；　was　so　shocking　and　so　shameful；　that　as　an　Englishman

I　blush　to　remember　it。　　It　would　have　been　simply　unbearable　at

the　time；　but　for　the　consideration　and　pity　with　which　they　were

soothed　in　their　sufferings。



No　punishment　that　our　inefficient　laws　provide；　is　worthy　of　the

name　when　set　against　the　guilt　of　this　transaction。　　But；　if　the

memory　of　it　die　out　unavenged；　and　if　it　do　not　result　in　the

inexorable　dismissal　and　disgrace　of　those　who　are　responsible　for

it；　their　escape　will　be　infamous　to　the　Government　（no　matter　of

what　party）　that　so　neglects　its　duty；　and　infamous　to　the　nation

that　tamely　suffers　such　intolerable　wrong　to　be　done　in　its　name。







CHAPTER　IX　…　CITY　OF　LONDON　CHURCHES







If　the　confession　that　I　have　often　travelled　from　this　Covent

Garden　lodging　of　mine　on　Sundays；　should　give　offence　to　those　who

never　travel　on　Sundays；　they　will　be　satisfied　（I　hope）　by　my

adding　that　the　journeys　in　question　were　made　to　churches。



Not　that　I　have　any　curiosity　to　hear　powerful　preachers。　　Time

was；　when　I　was　dragged　by　the　hair　of　my　head；　as　one　may　say；　to

hear　too　many。　　On　summer　evenings；　when　every　flower；　and　tree；

and　bird；　might　have　better　addressed　my　soft　young　heart；　I　have

in　my　day　been　caught　in　the　palm　of　a　female　hand　by　the　crown；

have　been　violently　scrubbed　from　the　neck　to　the　roots　of　the　hair

as　a　purification　for　the　Temple；　and　have　then　been　carried　off

highly　charged　with　saponaceous　electricity；　to　be　steamed　like　a

potato　in　the　unventilated　breath　of　the　powerful　Boanerges　Boiler

and　his　congregation；　until　what　small　mind　I　had；　was　quite

steamed　out　of　me。　　In　which　pitiable　plight　I　have　been　haled　out

of　the　place　of　meeting；　at　the　conclusion　of　the　exercises；　and

catechised　respecting　Boanerges　Boiler；　his　fifthly；　his　sixthly；

and　his　seventhly；　until　I　have　regarded　that　reverend　person　in

the　light　of　a　most　dismal　and　oppressive　Charade。　　Time　was；　when

I　was　carried　off　to　platform　assemblages　at　which　no　human　child；

whether　of　wrath　or　grace；　could　possibly　keep　its　eyes　open；　and

when　I　felt　the　fatal　sleep　stealing；　stealing　over　me；　and　when　I

gradually　heard　the　orator　in　possession；　spinning　and　humming　like

a　great　top；　until　he　rolled；　collapsed；　and　tumbled　over；　and　I

discovered　to　my　burning　shame　and　fear；　that　as　to　that　last　stage

it　was　not　he；　but　I。　　I　have　sat　under　Boanerges　when　he　has

specifically　addressed　himself　to　us　…　us；　the　infants　…　and　at

this　present　writing　I　hear　his　lumbering　jocularity　（which　never

amused　us；　though　we　basely　pretended　that　it　did）；　and　I　behold

his　big　round　face；　and　I　look　up　the　inside　of　his　outstretched

coat…sleeve　as　if　it　were　a　telescope　with　the　stopper　on；　and　I

hate　him　with　an　unwholesome　hatred　for　two　hours。　　Through　such

means　did　it　come　to　pass　that　I　knew　the　powerful　preacher　from

beginning　to　end；　all　over　and　all　through；　while　I　was　very　young；

and　that　I　left　him　behind　at　an　early　period　of　life。　　Peace　be

with　him！　　More　peace　than　he　brought　to　me！



Now；　I　have　heard　many　preachers　since　that　time　…　not　powerful；

merely　Christian；　unaffected；　and　reverential　…　and　I　have　had　many

such　preachers　on　my　roll　of　friends。　　But；　it　was　not　to　hear

these；　any　more　than　the　powerful　class；　that　I　made　my　Sunday

journeys。　　They　were　journeys　of　curiosity　to　the　numerous　churches

in　the　City　of　London。　　It　came　into　my　head　one　day；　here　had　I

been　cultivating　a　familiarity　with　all　the　churches　of　Rome；　and　I

knew　nothing　of　the　insides　of　the　old　churches　of　London！　　This

befell　on　a　Sunday　morning。　　I　began　my　expeditions　that　very　same

day；　and　they　lasted　me　a　year。



I　never　wanted　to　know　the　names　of　the　churches　to　which　I　went；

and　to　this　hour　I　am　profoundly　ignorant　in　that　particular　of　at

least　nine…tenths　of　them。　　Indeed；　saying　that　I　know　the　church

of　old　GOWER'S　tomb　（he　lies　in　effigy　with　his　head　upon　his

books）　to　be　the　church　of　Saint　Saviour's；　Southwark；　and　the

church　of　MILTON'S　tomb　to　be　the　church　of　Cripplegate；　and　the

church　on　Cornhill　with　the　great　golden　keys　to　be　the　church　of

Saint　Peter；　I　doubt　if　I　could　pass　a　competitive　examination　in

any　of　the　names。　　No　question　did　I　ever　ask　of　living　creature

concerning　these　churches；　and　no　answer　to　any　antiquarian

question　on　the　subject　that　I　ever　put　to　books；　shall　harass　the

reader's　soul。　　A　full　half　of　my　pleasure　in　them　arose　out　of

their　mystery；　mysterious　I　found　them；　mysterious　they　shall

remain　for　me。



Where　shall　I　begin　my　round　of　hidden　and　forgotten　old　churches

in　the　City　of　London？



It　is　twenty　minutes　short　of　eleven　on　a　Sunday　morning；　when　I

stroll　down　one　of　the　many　narrow　hilly　streets　in　the　City　that

tend　due　south　to　the　Thames。　　It　is　my　first　experiment；　and　I

have　come　to　the　region　of　Whittington　in　an　omnibus；　and　we　have

put　down　a　fierce…eyed；　spare　old　woman；　whose　slate…coloured　gown

smells　of　herbs；　and　who　walked　up　Aldersgate…street　to　some　chapel

where　she　comforts　herself　with　brimstone　doctrine；　I　warrant。　　We

have　also　put　down　a　stouter　and　sweeter　old　lady；　with　a　pretty

large　prayer…book　in　an　unfolded　pocket…handkerchief；　who　got　out

at　a　corner　of　a　court　near　Stationers'　Hall；　and　who　I　think　must

go　to　church　there；　because　she　is　the　widow　of　some　deceased　old

Company's　Beadle。　　The　rest　of　our　freight　were　mere　chance

pleasure…seekers　and　rural　walkers；　and　went　on　to　the　Blackwall

railway。　　So　many　bells　are　ringing；　when　I　stand　undecided　at　a

street　corner；　that　every　sheep　in　the　ecclesiastical　fold　might　be

a　bell…wether。　　The　discordance　is　fearful。　　My　state　of　indecision

is　referable　to；　and　about　equally　divisible　among；　four　great

churches；　which　are　all　within　sight　and　sound；　all　within　the

space　of　a　few　square　yards。



As　I　stand　at　the　street　corner；　I　don't　see　as　many　as　four　people

at　once　going　to　church；　though　I　see　as　many　as　four　churches　with

their　steeples　clamouring　for　people。　　I　choose　my　church；　and　go

up　the　flight　of　steps　to　the　great　entrance　in　the　tower。　　A

mouldy　tower　within；　and　like　a　neglected　washhouse。　　A　rope　comes

through　the　beamed　roof；　and　a　man　in　the　corner　pulls　it　and

clashes　the　bell　…　a　whity…brown　man；　whose　clothes　were　once　black

…　a　man　with　flue　on　him；　and　cobweb。　　He　stares　at　me；　wondering

how　I　come　there；　and　I　stare　at　him；　wondering　how　he　comes　there。

Through　a　screen　of　wood　and　glass；　I　peep　into　the　dim　church。

About　twenty　people　are　discernible；　waiting　to　begin。　　Christening

would　seem　to　have　faded　out　of　this　church　long　ago；　for　the　font

has　the　dust　of　desuetude　thick　upon　it；　and　its　wooden　cover

（shaped　like　an　old…fashioned　tureen…cover）　looks　as　if　it　wouldn't

come　off；　upon　requirement。　　I　perceive　the　altar　to　be　rickety　and

the　Commandments　damp。　　Entering　after　this　survey；　I　jostle　the

clergyman　in　his　canonicals；　who　is　entering　too　from　a　dark　lane

behind　a　pew　of　state　with　curtains；　where　nobody　sits。　　The　pew　is

ornamented　with　four　blue　wands；　once　carried　by　four　somebodys；　I

suppose；　before　somebody　else；　but　which　there　is　nobody　now　to

hold　or　receive　honour　from。　　I　open　the　door　of　a　family　pew；　and

sh