the uncommercial traveller-第30部分

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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　line　but　made　some　hearts　leap；　or　some　tears　flow；

in　their　day。　　Still　and　dry　now；　still　and　dry！　and　the　old　tree

at　the　window　with　no　room　for　its　branches；　has　seen　them　all　out。

So　with　the　tomb　of　the　old　Master　of　the　old　Company；　on　which　it

drips。　　His　son　restored　it　and　died；　his　daughter　restored　it　and

died；　and　then　he　had　been　remembered　long　enough；　and　the　tree

took　possession　of　him；　and　his　name　cracked　out。



There　are　few　more　striking　indications　of　the　changes　of　manners

and　customs　that　two　or　three　hundred　years　have　brought　about；

than　these　deserted　churches。　　Many　of　them　are　handsome　and　costly

structures；　several　of　them　were　designed　by　WREN；　many　of　them

arose　from　the　ashes　of　the　great　fire；　others　of　them　outlived　the

plague　and　the　fire　too；　to　die　a　slow　death　in　these　later　days。

No　one　can　be　sure　of　the　coming　time；　but　it　is　not　too　much　to

say　of　it　that　it　has　no　sign　in　its　outsetting　tides；　of