Summarize the following text to main points and sub-points and make detailed explain for them:

churchyard:—a 
village which showed at once the summits of its social life, and told the 
practised eye that there was no great park and manor-house in the 
vicinity, but that there were several chiefs in Raveloe who could farm 
badly quite at their ease, drawing enough money from their bad farming, 
in those war times, to live in a rollicking fashion, and keep a jolly 
Christmas, Whitsun, and Easter tide. 
It was fifteen years since Silas Marner had first come to Raveloe; he was 
then simply a pallid young man, with prominent short-sighted brown 
eyes, whose appearance would have had nothing strange for people of 
average culture and experience, but for the villagers near whom he had 
come to settle it had mysterious peculiarities which corresponded with 
the exceptional nature of his occupation, and his advent from an 
unknown region called "North'ard". So had his way of life:—he invited no 
comer to step across his door-sill, and he never strolled into the village to 
drink a pint at the Rainbow, or to gossip at the wheelwright's: he sought 
no man or woman, save for the purposes of his calling, or in order to 
supply himself with necessaries; and it was soon clear to the Raveloe 
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lasses that he would never urge one of them to accept him against her 
will—quite as if he had heard them declare that they would never marry a 
dead man come to life again. This view of Marner's personality was not 
without another ground than his pale face and unexampled eyes; for Jem 
Rodney, the mole-catcher, averred that one evening as he was returning 
homeward, he saw Silas Marner leaning against a stile with a heavy bag 
on his back, instead of resting the bag on the stile as a man in his senses 
would have done; and that, on coming up to him, he saw that Marner's 
eyes were set like a dead man's, and he spoke to him, and shook him, and 
his limbs were stiff, and his hands clutched the bag as if they'd been 
made of iron; but just as he had made up his mind that the weaver was 
dead, he came all right again, like, as you might say, in the winking of an 
eye, and said "Good-night", and walked off. All this Jem swore he had 
seen, more by token that it was the very day he had been mole-catching 
on Squire Cass's land, down by the old saw-pit. Some said Marner must 
have been in a "fit", a word which seemed to explain things otherwise 
incredible; but the argumentative Mr. Macey, clerk of the parish, shook 
his head, and asked if anybody was ever known to go off in a fit and not 
fall down. A fit was a stroke, wasn't it? and it was in the nature of a 
stroke to partly take away the use of a man's limbs and throw him on the 
parish, if he'd got no children to look to. No, no; it was no stroke that 
would let a man stand on his legs, like a horse between the shafts, and 
then walk off as soon as you can say "Gee!" But there might be such a 
thing as a man's soul being loose from his body, and going out and in, 
like a bird out of its nest and back; and that was how folks got over-wise, 
for they went to school in this shell-less state to those who could teach 
them more than their neighbours could learn with their five senses and 
the parson. And where did Master Marner get his knowledge of herbs 
from—and charms too, if he liked to give them away? Jem Rodney's story 
was no more than what might have been expected by anybody who had 
seen how Marner had cured Sally Oates, and made her sleep like a baby, 
when her heart had been beating enough to burst her body, for two 
months and more, while she had been under the doctor's care. He might 
cure more folks if he would; but he was worth speaking fair, if it was only 
to keep him from doing you a mischief. 
It was partly to this vague fear that Marner was indebted for protecting 
him from the persecution that his singularities might have drawn upon 
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him, but still more to the fact that, the old linen-weaver in the 
neighbouring parish of Tarley being dead, his handicraft made him a 
highly welcome settler to the richer housewives of the district, and even 
to the more provident cottagers, who had their little stock of yarn at the 
year's end. Their sense of his usefulness would have counteracted any 
repugnance or suspicion which was not confirmed by a deficiency in the 
quality or the tale of the cloth he wove for them. And the years had rolled 
on without producing any change in the impressions of the neighbours 
concerning Marner, except the change from novelty to habit. At the end 
of fifteen years the Raveloe men said just the same things about Silas 
Marner as at the beginning: they did not say them quite so often, but 
they believed them much more strongly when they did say them. There 
was only one important addition which the years had brought: it was, 
that Master Marner had laid by a fine sight of money somewhere, and 
that he could buy up "bigger men" than himself. 
But while opinion concerning him had remained nearly stationary, and 
his daily habits had presented scarcely any visible change, Marner's 
inward life had been a history and a metamorphosis, as that of every 
fervid nature must be when it has fled, or been condemned, to solitude. 
His life, before he came to Raveloe, had been filled with the movement, 
the mental activity, and the close fellowship, which, in that day as in this, 
marked the life of an artisan early incorporated in a narrow religious 
sect, where the poorest layman has the chance of distinguishing himself 
by gifts of speech, and has, at the very least, the weight of a silent voter in 
the government of his community. Marner was highly thought of in that 
little hidden world, known to itself as the church assembling in Lantern 
Yard; he was believed to be a young man of exemplary life and ardent 
faith; and a peculiar interest had been centred in him ever since he had 
fallen, at a prayer-meeting, into a mysterious rigidity and suspension of 
consciousness, which, lasting for an hour or more, had been mistaken for 
death. To have sought a medical explanation for this phenomenon would 
have been held by Silas himself, as well as by his minister and fellow-
members, a wilful self-exclusion from the spiritual significance that 
might lie therein. Silas was evidently a brother selected for a peculiar 
discipline; and though the effort to interpret this discipline was 
discouraged by the absence, on his part, of any spiritual vision during his 
outward trance, yet it was believed by himself and others that its effect 
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was seen in an accession of light and fervour. A less truthful man than he 
might have been tempted into the subsequent creation of a vision in the 
form of resurgent memory; a less sane man might have believed in such 
a creation; but Silas was both sane and honest, though, as with many 
honest and fervent men, culture had not defined any channels for his 
sense of mystery, and so it spread itself over the proper pathway of 
inquiry and knowledge. He had inherited from his mother some 
acquaintance with medicinal herbs and their preparation—a little store 
of wisdom which she had imparted to him as a solemn bequest—but of 
late years he had had doubts about the lawfulness of applying this 
knowledge, believing that herbs could have no efficacy without prayer, 
and that prayer might suffice without herbs; so that the inherited delight 
he had in wandering in the fields in search of foxglove and dandelion and 
coltsfoot, began to wear to him the character of a temptation. 
Among the members of his church there was one young man, a little 
older than himself, with whom he had long lived in such close friendship 
that it was the custom of their Lantern Yard brethren to call them David 
and Jonathan. The real name of the friend was William Dane, and he, 
too, was regarded as a shining instance of youthful piety, though 
somewhat given to over-severity towards weaker brethren, and to be so 
dazzled by his own light as to hold himself wiser than his teachers. But 
whatever blemishes others might discern in William, to his friend's mind 
he was faultless; for Marner had one of those impressible self-doubting 
natures which, at an inexperienced age, admire imperativeness and lean 
on contradiction. The expression of trusting simplicity in Marner's face, 
heightened by that absence of special observation, that defenceless, deer-
like gaze which belongs to large prominent eyes, was strongly contrasted 
by the self-complacent suppression of inward triumph that lurked in the 
narrow slanting eyes and compressed lips of William Dane. One of the 
most frequent topics of conversation between the two friends was 
Assurance of salvation: Silas confessed that he could never arrive at 
anything higher than hope mingled with fear, and listened with longing 
wonder when William declared that he had possessed unshaken 
assurance ever since, in the period of his conversion, he had dreamed 
that he saw the words "calling and election sure" standing by them

Summary :