Oh, what feelings came over me on finding myself again in an edifice devoted to the religion of my country! I had not been in such a place I cannot tell for how long - certainly not for years; and now I had found my way there again, it appeared as if I had fallen asleep in the pew of the old church of pretty D-.I had occasionally done so when a child, and had suddenly woke up.Yes, surely I had been asleep and had woke up; but no! alas, no! I had not been asleep - at least not in the old church - if I had been asleep I had been walking in my sleep, struggling, striving, learning, and unlearning in my sleep.Years had rolled away whilst I had been asleep - ripe fruit had fallen, green fruit had come on whilst I had been asleep - how circumstances had altered, and above all myself, whilst I had been asleep.No, I had not been asleep in the old church! I was in a pew, it is true, but not the pew of black leather, in which Isometimes fell asleep in days of yore, but in a strange pew;and then my companions, they were no longer those of days of yore.I was no longer with my respectable father and mother, and my dear brother, but with the gypsy cral and his wife, and the gigantic Tawno, the Antinous of the dusky people.
And what was I myself? No longer an innocent child, but a moody man, bearing in my face, as I knew well, the marks of my strivings and strugglings, of what I had learnt and unlearnt; nevertheless, the general aspect of things brought to my mind what I had felt and seen of yore.There was difference enough, it is true, but still there was a similarity - at least I thought so - the church, the clergyman, and the clerk, differing in many respects from those of pretty D-, put me strangely in mind of them; and then the words! - by the bye, was it not the magic of the words which brought the dear enchanting past so powerfully before the mind of Lavengro? for the words were the same sonorous words of high import which had first made an impression on his childish ear in the old church of pretty D-.
The liturgy was now over, during the reading of which my companions behaved in a most unexceptionable manner, sitting down and rising up when other people sat down and rose, and holding in their hands prayer-books which they found in the pew, into which they stared intently, though I observed that, with the exception of Mrs.Petulengro, who knew how to read a little, they held the books by the top, and not the bottom, as is the usual way.The clergyman now ascended the pulpit, arrayed in his black gown.The congregation composed themselves to attention, as did also my companions, who fixed their eyes upon the clergyman with a certain strange immovable stare, which I believe to be peculiar to their race.The clergyman gave out his text, and began to preach.
He was a tall, gentlemanly man, seemingly between fifty and sixty, with greyish hair; his features were very handsome, but with a somewhat melancholy cast: the tones of his voice were rich and noble, but also with somewhat of melancholy in them.The text which he gave out was the following one, "In what would a man be profited, provided he gained the whole world, and lost his own soul?"And on this text the clergyman preached long and well: he did not read his sermon, but spoke it extempore; his doing so rather surprised and offended me at first; I was not used to such a style of preaching in a church devoted to the religion of my country.I compared it within my mind with the style of preaching used by the high-church rector in the old church of pretty D-, and I thought to myself it was very different, and being very different I did not like it, and I thought to myself how scandalized the people of D- would have been had they heard it, and I figured to myself how indignant the high-church clerk would have been had any clergyman got up in the church of D- and preached in such a manner.Did it not savour strongly of dissent, methodism, and similar low stuff?
Surely it did; why, the Methodist I had heard preach on the heath above the old city, preached in the same manner - at least he preached extempore; ay, and something like the present clergyman; for the Methodist spoke very zealously and with great feeling, and so did the present clergyman; so I, of course, felt rather offended with the clergyman for speaking with zeal and feeling.However, long before the sermon was over I forgot the offence which I had taken, and listened to the sermon with much admiration, for the eloquence and powerful reasoning with which it abounded.
Oh, how eloquent he was, when he talked of the inestimable value of a man's soul, which he said endured for ever, whilst his body, as every one knew, lasted at most for a very contemptible period of time; and how forcibly he reasoned on the folly of a man, who, for the sake of gaining the whole world - a thing, he said, which provided he gained he could only possess for a part of the time, during which his perishable body existed - should lose his soul, that is, cause that precious deathless portion of him to suffer indescribable misery time without end.
There was one part of his sermon which struck me in a very particular manner: he said, "That there were some people who gained something in return for their souls; if they did not get the whole world, they got a part of it - lands, wealth, honour, or renown; mere trifles, he allowed, in comparison with the value of a man's soul, which is destined either to enjoy delight, or suffer tribulation time without end; but which, in the eyes of the worldly, had a certain value, and which afforded a certain pleasure and satisfaction.But there were also others who lost their souls, and got nothing for them - neither lands, wealth, renown, nor consideration, who were poor outcasts, and despised by everybody.My friends," he added, "if the man is a fool who barters his soul for the whole world, what a fool he must be who barters his soul for nothing."The eyes of the clergyman, as he uttered these words, wandered around the whole congregation; and when he had concluded them, the eyes of the whole congregation were turned upon my companions and myself.
