"----------leaving in battle no blot on his name, Looks proudly to heaven from the death-bed of fame,"
One would think that the ribands and honours on his breast, flapping in the wind, would have scared even the vulture from such prey; but no! the orders which the London dentist has received must, he pleads, be punctually executed; and it is a revolting fact, but too well known to "the trade," that many, and many, and many a set of teeth which bit the dust of Waterloo, by an untimely resurrection, appeared again on earth, smiling lasciviously at Almack's ball! So much for what is termed FASHION.
After rambling about the churchyard for some minutes, occasionally spelling at an inscription, and sometimes looking at (not picking) a sepulchral flower, I walked to the church-door, and turning round its old-fashioned key, which ever since I had received it had been dangling in my hand, the lock started back, and then, as if I had said "Open Sesame!" the door opened.
On looking before me, my first impression was that my head was swimming! for the old gallery, hanging like the gardens of Babylon, seemed to be writhing; the four-and-twenty pews were leaning sideways; the aisle, or approach to the altar, covered with heaps of rubbish, was an undulating line, and an immense sepulchral flag-stone had actually been lifted up at one side, as if the corpse, finding the church deserted, had resolutely burst from his grave, and had wrenched himself once again into daylight. The pulpit was out of its perpendicular; some pictures, loosely hanging against the wall, had turned away their faces; and a couple of planks were resting diagonally against the altar, as if they had fallen from the roof. I really rubbed my eyes, fancying that they were disordered; however, the confusion I witnessed was real, and as nearly as possible as I have described it. Still, however, there was no dampness in the church, and it was, I thought, a remarkable proof of the dryness of the light mountain air of Langen-Schwalbach, that the sepulchral wreaths of artificial flowers which were hanging around on the walls were as starched and stiff as on the day they were placed there.
A piece of dingy black cloth, with narrow white fringe, was the only ornament to the pulpit, from which both book and minister had so long departed. The thing was altogether on the totter; yet when I reflected what little harm it had done in the world, and how much good, I could not help acknowledging that respect was justly due to its old age, and that, even by the stranger, it ought to be regarded with sentiments of veneration. In gazing at monuments of antiquity, one of the most natural pleasures which the mind enjoys is by them fancifully transported to the scenes which they so clearly commemorate. The Roman amphitheatre becomes filled with gladiators and spectators;--the streets of Pompeii are seen again thronged with people;--the Grecian temple is ornamented with the votive offerings of heroes and of senators;--even the putrid marsh of Marathon teems with noble recollections;--while at home, on the battlements of our old English castles, we easily figure to ourselves barons proud of their deeds, and vassals in armour faithfully devoted to their service: in short, while beholding such scenes, the heart glows, until, by its feverish heat, feelings are produced to which no one can be completely insensible: however, when we awaken from this delightful dream, it is difficult, indeed impossible, to drive away the painful moral which, sooner or later in the day, proves to us much too clearly, that these ruins have outlived, and in fact commemorate, the errors, the passions, and the prejudices, which caused them to be built.