The housemaid looks after them from the
window, admiring the finery of the family, and receiving, perhaps, a
nod and smile from her young mistresses, at whose toilet she has
assisted.
Now rumbles along the carriage of some magnate of the city,
peradventure an alderman or a sheriff; and now the patter of many feet
announces a procession of charity scholars, in uniforms of antique
cut, and each with a prayer-book under his arm.
The ringing of bells is at an end; the rumbling of the carriage
has ceased; the pattering of feet is heard no more; the flocks are
folded in ancient churches, cramped up in by-lanes and corners of
the crowded city, where the vigilant beadle keeps watch, like the
shepherd's dog, round the threshold of the sanctuary. For a time every
thing is hushed; but soon is heard the deep, pervading sound of the
organ, rolling and vibrating through the empty lanes and courts; and
the sweet chanting of the choir making them resound with melody and
praise. Never have I been more sensible of the sanctifying effect of
church music, than when I have heard it thus poured forth, like a
river of joy, through the inmost recesses of this great metropolis,
elevating it, as it were, from all the sordid pollutions of the
week; and bearing the poor world-worn soul on a tide of triumphant
harmony to heaven.
The morning service is at an end. The streets are again alive with
the congregations returning to their homes, but soon again relapse
into silence.
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