Religious Studies, Sketches and PoemsStowe, Harriet Beecher
Religion
Religious Studies, Sketches and Poems
Stowe, Harriet Beecher
Religion
The traveler in New England, as he stands on some eminence, and
looks down on its rich landscape of golden grain and waving
cornfield, sees no feature more beautiful than its simple churches,
whose white taper fingers point upward, amid the greenness and bloom
of the distant prospects, as if to remind one of the overshadowing
providence whence all this luxuriant beauty flows; and year by
year, as new ones are added to the number, or succeed in the place
of old ones, there is discernible an evident improvement in their
taste and architecture. Those modest Doric little buildings, with
their white pillars, green blinds, and neat inclosures, are very
different affairs from those great, uncouth mountains of windows
and doors that stood in the same place years before. To my childish
eye, however, our old meeting-house was an awe-inspiring thing.
To me it seemed fashioned very nearly on the model of Noah's ark
and Solomon's temple, as set forth in the pictures in my Scripture
Catechism--pictures which I did not doubt were authentic copies; and
what more respectable and venerable architectural precedent could
any one desire? Its double rows of windows, of which I knew the
number by heart, its doors with great wooden quirls over them, its
belfry projecting out at the east end, its steeple and bell, all
inspired as much sense of the sublime in me as Strasbourg Cathedral
itself; and the inside was not a whit less imposing.
How magnificent, to my eye, seemed the turnip-like canopy that
hung over the minister's head, hooked by a long iron rod to the
wall above! and how apprehensively did I consider the question,
what would become of him if it should fall! How did I wonder
at the panels on either side of the pulpit, in each of which
was carved and painted a flaming red tulip, bolt upright, with
its leaves projecting out at right angles! and then at the
grapevine, bas-relieved on the front, with its exactly triangular
bunches of grapes, alternating at exact intervals with exactly
triangular leaves. To me it was an indisputable representation of
how grapevines ought to look, if they would only be straight and
regular, instead of curling and scrambling, and twisting themselves
into all sorts of slovenly shapes. The area of the house was divided
into large square pews, boxed up with stout boards, and surmounted
with a kind of baluster work, which I supposed to be provided for
the special accommodation of us youngsters, being the "loopholes
of retreat" through which we gazed on the "remarkabilia" of the
scene. It was especially interesting to me to notice the coming in
to meeting of the congregation. The doors were so contrived that on
entering you stepped down instead of up--a construction that has
more than once led to unlucky results in the case of strangers. I
remember once when an unlucky Frenchman, entirely unsuspicious of
the danger that awaited him, made entrance by pitching devoutly
upon his nose in the middle of the broad aisle; that it took three
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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