The Knickerbocker, Vol. 22, No. 1, July 1843Various
General
The Knickerbocker, Vol. 22, No. 1, July 1843
Various
Periodicals
One of those of whom I have spoken last, the doctor, I should judge
from his appearance, has given me a seat in his slip, near the
centre of the church. What a holy repose steals over the spirit, as
we sit down in the house of worship! The strife and turmoil of the
world never obtrude themselves into this sacred place; all are for
a while forgotten. The oil of awe, and yet of gladness, is poured
on the bubbling waters of passion, and they sink to rest. The faint
heart, 'wounded, sick, and sore,' is revived and healed by the very
breath of the sanctuary; for within these walls the air itself
seems consecrated. A solemn and reverential feeling settles down on
the mind of the worshipper; and he involuntarily assumes a serious
deportment. The people come in, one by one, and take their seats
noiselessly, as though they had put off their shoes from their feet
on this holy ground. The light rustle of a lady's dress, and the
occasional slam of a pew-door, in opening or shutting, alone are
heard; and these interruptions only serve to make the succeeding
silence more deeply felt.
I look around on the assembly, and among so many men, who for the
past week have been digging in the earth, or hammering incessantly
on the anvil or the lap-stone, or engaged in the most mean and
unintellectual employments, there is not one careless or vacant
face. Every heart is elevated, and every face is refined in its
expression, by the associations of the place. The humble are
exalted, as it is in man's nature to be, when his eyes and thoughts,
from being fixed on the earth, are lifted up, and hold communion
with things above the earth. Ambition of honor or wealth is shamed;
the world is but a little thing, when, as now, we look down on it;
and here pride finds no place. Care smooths his rugged brow, and
over the sunny face of the maiden steals a shade of deeper thought.
Therefore we are all alike; the barriers of ice which during
the week have separated man from his fellow, are to-day broken
down; and we feel, sitting here worshipping together, that we are
fellow-pilgrims; that we are indeed of the same family.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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