the uncommercial traveller-第19章

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kinswoman　with　the　dread　belief　that　he　has　made　up　his　mind　to

burst。　　Regardless　of　whispers　and　shakes；　he　swells　and　becomes

discoloured；　and　yet　again　swells　and　becomes　discoloured；　until

the　aunt　can　bear　it　no　longer；　but　leads　him　out；　with　no　visible

neck；　and　with　his　eyes　going　before　him　like　a　prawn's。　　This

causes　the　sniggerers　to　regard　flight　as　an　eligible　move；　and　I

know　which　of　them　will　go　out　first；　because　of　the　over…devout

attention　that　he　suddenly　concentrates　on　the　clergyman。　　In　a

little　while；　this　hypocrite；　with　an　elaborate　demonstration　of

hushing　his　footsteps；　and　with　a　face　generally　expressive　of

having　until　now　forgotten　a　religious　appointment　elsewhere；　is

gone。　　Number　two　gets　out　in　the　same　way；　but　rather　quicker。

Number　three　getting　safely　to　the　door；　there　turns　reckless；　and

banging　it　open；　flies　forth　with　a　Whoop！　that　vibrates　to　the　top

of　the　tower　above　us。



The　clergyman；　who　is　of　a　prandial　presence　and　a　muffled　voice；

may　be　scant　of　hearing　as　well　as　of　breath；　but　he　only　glances

up；　as　having　an　idea　that　somebody　has　said　Amen　in　a　wrong　place；

and　continues　his　steady　jog…trot；　like　a　farmer's　wife　going　to

market。　　He　does　all　he　has　to　do；　in　the　same　easy　way；　and　gives

us　a　concise　sermon；　still　like　the　jog…trot　of　the　farmer's　wife

on　a　level　road。　　Its　drowsy　cadence　soon　lulls　the　three　old　women

asleep；　and　the　unmarried　tradesman　sits　looking　out　at　window；　and

the　married　tradesman　sits　looking　at　his　wife's　bonnet；　and　the

lovers　sit　looking　at　one　another；　so　superlatively　happy；　that　I

mind　when　I；　turned　of　eighteen；　went　with　my　Angelica　to　a　City

church　on　account　of　a　shower　（by　this　special　coincidence　that　it

was　in　Huggin…lane）；　and　when　I　said　to　my　Angelica；　'Let　the

blessed　event；　Angelica；　occur　at　no　altar　but　this！'　and　when　my

Angelica　consented　that　it　should　occur　at　no　other　…　which　it

certainly　never　did；　for　it　never　occurred　anywhere。　　And　O；

Angelica；　what　has　become　of　you；　this　present　Sunday　morning　when

I　can't　attend　to　the　sermon；　and；　more　difficult　question　than

that；　what　has　become　of　Me　as　I　was　when　I　sat　by　your　side！



But；　we　receive　the　signal　to　make　that　unanimous　dive　which　surely

is　a　little　conventional　…　like　the　strange　rustlings　and　settlings

and　clearings　of　throats　and　noses；　which　are　never　dispensed　with；

at　certain　points　of　the　Church　service；　and　are　never　held　to　be

necessary　under　any　other　circumstances。　　In　a　minute　more　it　is

all　over；　and　the　organ　expresses　itself　to　be　as　glad　of　it　as　it

can　be　of　anything　in　its　rheumatic　state；　and　in　another　minute　we

are　all　of　us　out　of　the　church；　and　Whity…brown　has　locked　it　up。

Another　minute　or　little　more；　and；　in　the　neighbouring　churchyard

…　not　the　yard　of　that　church；　but　of　another　…　a　churchyard　like　a

great　shabby　old　mignonette　box；　with　two　trees　in　it　and　one　tomb

…　I　meet　Whity…brown；　in　his　private　capacity；　fetching　a　pint　of

beer　for　his　dinner　from　the　public…house　in　the　corner；　where　the

keys　of　the　rotting　fire…ladders　are　kept　and　were　never　asked　for；

and　where　there　is　a　ragged；　white…seamed；　out…at…elbowed　bagatelle

board　on　the　first　floor。



In　one　of　these　City　churches；　and　only　in　one；　I　found　an

individual　who　might　have　been　claimed　as　expressly　a　City

personage。　　I　remember　the　church；　by　the　feature　that　the

clergyman　couldn't　get　to　his　own　desk　without　going　through　the

clerk's；　or　couldn't　get　to　the　pulpit　without　going　through　the

reading…desk　…　I　forget　which；　and　it　is　no　matter　…　and　by　the

presence　of　this　personage　among　the　exceedingly　sparse

congregation。　　I　doubt　if　we　were　a　dozen；　and　we　had　no　exhausted

charity　school　to　help　us　out。　　The　personage　was　dressed　in　black

of　square　cut；　and　was　stricken　in　years；　and　wore　a　black　velvet

cap；　and　cloth　shoes。　　He　was　of　a　staid；　wealthy；　and　dissatisfied

aspect。　　In　his　hand；　he　conducted　to　church　a　mysterious　child：　　a

child　of　the　feminine　gender。　　The　child　had　a　beaver　hat；　with　a

stiff　drab　plume　that　surely　never　belonged　to　any　bird　of　the　air。

The　child　was　further　attired　in　a　nankeen　frock　and　spencer；　brown

boxing…gloves；　and　a　veil。　　It　had　a　blemish；　in　the　nature　of

currant　jelly；　on　its　chin；　and　was　a　thirsty　child。　　Insomuch　that

the　personage　carried　in　his　pocket　a　green　bottle；　from　which；

when　the　first　psalm　was　given　out；　the　child　was　openly　refreshed。

At　all　other　times　throughout　the　service　it　was　motionless；　and

stood　on　the　seat　of　the　large　pew；　closely　fitted　into　the　corner；

like　a　rain…water　pipe。



The　personage　never　opened　his　book；　and　never　looked　at　the

clergyman。　　He　never　sat　down　either；　but　stood　with　his　arms

leaning　on　the　top　of　the　pew；　and　his　forehead　sometimes　shaded

with　his　right　hand；　always　looking　at　the　church　door。　　It　was　a

long　church　for　a　church　of　its　size；　and　he　was　at　the　upper　end；

but　he　always　looked　at　the　door。　　That　he　was　an　old　bookkeeper；

or　an　old　trader　who　had　kept　his　own　books；　and　that　he　might　be

seen　at　the　Bank　of　England　about　Dividend　times；　no　doubt。　　That

he　had　lived　in　the　City　all　his　life　and　was　disdainful　of　other

localities；　no　doubt。　　Why　he　looked　at　the　door；　I　never

absolutely　proved；　but　it　is　my　belief　that　he　lived　in　expectation

of　the　time　when　the　citizens　would　come　back　to　live　in　the　City；

and　its　ancient　glories　would　be　renewed。　　He　appeared　to　expect

that　this　would　occur　on　a　Sunday；　and　that　the　wanderers　would

first　appear；　in　the　deserted　churches；　penitent　and　humbled。

Hence；　he　looked　at　the　door　which　they　never　darkened。　　Whose

child　the　child　was；　whether　the　child　of　a　disinherited　daughter；

or　some　parish　orphan　whom　the　personage　had　adopted；　there　was

nothing　to　lead　up　to。　　It　never　played；　or　skipped；　or　smiled。

Once；　the　idea　occurred　to　me　that　it　was　an　automaton；　and　that

the　personage　had　made　it；　but　following　the　strange　couple　out　one

Sunday；　I　heard　the　personage　say　to　it；　'Thirteen　thousand

pounds；'　to　which　it　added　in　a　weak　human　voice；　'Seventeen　and

fourpence。'　　Four　Sundays　I　followed　them　out；　and　this　is　all　I

ever　heard　or　saw　them　say。　　One　Sunday；　I　followed　them　home。

They　lived　behind　a　pump；　and　the　personage　opened　their　abode　with

an　exceeding　large　key。　　The　one　solitary　inscription　on　their

house　related　to　a　fire…plug。　　The　house　was　partly　undermined　by　a

deserted　and　closed　gateway；　its　windows　were　blind　with　dirt；　and

it　stood　with　its　face　disconsolately　turned　to　a　wall。　　Five　great

churches　and　two　small　ones　rang　their　Sunday　bells　between　this

house　and　the　church　the　couple　frequented；　so　they　must　have　had

some　special　reason　for　going　a　quarter　of　a　mile　to　it。　　The　last

time　I　saw　them；　was　on　this　wise。　　I　had　been　to　explore　another

church　at　a　distance；　and　happened　to　pass　the　church　they

frequented；　at　about　two　of　the　afternoon　when　that　edifice　was

closed。　　But；　a　little　side…door；　which　I　had　never　observed

before；　stood　open；　and　disclosed　certain　cellarous　steps。

Methought　'They　are　airing　the　vaults　to…day；'　when　the　personage

and　the　child　silently　arrived　at　the　steps；　and　silently

descended。　　Of　course；　I　came　to　the　conclusion　that　the　personage

had　at　last　despaired　of　the　looked…for　return　of　the　penitent

citizens；　and　that　he　and　the　child　went　down　to　get　themselves

buried。



In　the　course　of　my　pilgrimages　I　came　upon　one　obscure　church

which　had　broken　out　in　the　melodramatic　style；　and　was　got　up　with

various　tawdry　decorations；　much　after　the　manner　of　the　extinct

London　may…poles。　　These　attractions　had　induced　several　young

priests　or　deacons　in　black　bibs　for　waistcoats；　and　several　young

ladies　interested　in　that　holy　order　（the　proportion　being；　as　I

estimated；　seventeen　young　ladies　to　a　deacon）；　to　come　into　the

City　as　a　new　and　odd　excitement。　　It　was　wonderful　to　see　how

these　young　people　played　out　their　little　play　in　the　heart　of　the

City；　all　among　themselves；　without　the　deserted　City's　knowing

anything　about　it。　　It　was　as　if　you　should　take　an　empty　counting…

house　on　a　Sunday；　and　act　one　of　the　old　Mysteries　there。　　They

had　impressed　a　small　school　（from　what　neighbourhood　I　don't　know）

to　assist　in　the　performances；　and　it　was　pleasant　to　notice

frantic　garlands　of　inscription　on　the　walls；　especially　addressing

those　poor　innocents　in　characters　impossible　for　them　to　decipher。

There　was　a　remarkably　agreeable　smell　of　pomatum　in　this

congregation。



But；　in　other　cases；　rot　and　mildew　and　dead　citizens　formed　the

uppermost　scent；　while；　infused　into　it　in　a　dreamy　way　not　at　all

displeasing；　was　the　staple　character　of　the　neighbourhood。　　In　the

churches　about　Mark…lane；　for　example；　there　was　a　dry　whiff　of

wheat；　and　I　accidentally　struck　an　airy　sample　of　barley　out　of　an

aged　hassock　in　one　of　them。　　From　Rood…lane　to　Tower…street；　and

thereabouts；　there　was　often　a　subtle　flavour　of　wine：　　sometimes；

of　tea。　　One　church　near　Mincing…lane　smelt　like　a　druggist's

drawer。　　Behind　the　Monument　the　service　had　a　flavour　of　damaged

oranges；　which；　a　little　further　down　towards　the　river；　tempered

into　herrings；　and　gradually　toned　into　a　cosmopolitan　blast　of

fish。　　In　one　church；　the　exact　counterpart　of　the　church　in　the

Rake's　Progress　where　the　hero　is　being　married　to　the　horrible　old

lady；　there　was　no　speciality　of　atmosphere；　until　the　organ　shook

a　perfume　of　hides　all　over　us　from　some　adjacent　warehouse。



Be　the　scent　what　it　would；　however；　there　was　no　speciality　in　the

people。　　There　were　never　enough　of　them　to　represent　any　calling

or　neighbourhood。　　They　had　all　gone　elsewhere　over…night；　and　the

few　stragglers　in　the　many　churches　languished　there

inexpressively。



Among　the　Uncommercial　travels　in　which　I　have　engaged；　this　year

of　Sunday　travel　occupies　its　own　place；　apart　from　all　the　rest。

Whether　I　think　of　the　church　where　the　sails　of　the　oyster…boats

in　the　river　almost　flapped　against　the　windows；　or　of　the　church

where　the　railroad　made　the　bells　hum　as　the　train　rushed　by　above

the　roof；　I　recall　a　curious　experience。　　On　summer　Sundays；　in　the

gentle　rain　or　the　bright　sunshine　…　either；　deepening　the　idleness

of　the　idle　City　…　I　have　sat；　in　that　singular　silence　which

belongs　to　resting…places　usually　astir；　in　scores　of　buildings　at

the　heart　of　the　world's　metropolis；　unknown　to　far　greater　numbers

of　people　speaking　the　English　tongue；　than　the　ancient　edifices　of

the　Eternal　City；　or　the　Pyramids　of　Egypt。　　The　dark　vestries　and

registries　into　which　I　have　peeped；　and　the　little　hemmed…in

churchyards　that　have　echoed　to　my　feet；　have　left　impressions　on

my　memory　as　distinct　and　quaint　as　any　it　has　in　that　way

received。　　In　all　those　dusty　registers　that　the　worms　are　eating；

there　is　not　a　li