The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1883-07-07
A Sunday Revery.


A man should go to church. That no one may
be able to say that the Journal swerves, even In
warm weather and its idlest moments, from its
upright position as a conservator of public NOR
ais, let it be repeated: a man who thinks any
thing of himself must go to church or eventually
lose his self-respect.
Nevertheless-if so be that breakfast is late or
the razor dull, or that the new coat did not
come home; If so be that circumstances arise to
detain the well-meanng citizen from the sane
tuary, he will find it uncommOnly comfortable at
home these July Sunday mornings. placid con-
tent dffuses itself through the soul of the who
attends divine service-a satisfaction felt more
intensely by the occasional worshiper, there is
reason to believe, than by the regular attendant.
The homestayer has not the same sense of duty
done, but is not without consolation. Behind
the half-closed blinds, where passers.by can not
see mis- negligent attitude or attire, and where
flies modest not, he may reflect-not upon his
sins, there is no comfort in that and the weather
is too warm-but upon all that is pleasant in
this world. He has his fair share of these now,
so it seems this morning; but so gracious does he
feel towards all mankind, that he would like
more, that he might make others to
rejoice with him. He muses. with
book in his hand it is book,
possibly revised edition." and possibly not,
that he has long meant to read, but to-day he is
not In the humor,, and he lays it down. There
are the morning papers; he looks at them, but
all except the Misunderstanding "society col
umns" he had read on Saturday, and they, too,
fall from his hand. He wonders if he had better
take his vacation in August, or walt until Sep
tember. Maria wants to go next week. If he
were woman, and had nothing to do but sit by
the window, as he is doing now, he would not
leave home at ALL Maria has gone to church;
her dress came home in time. He wonders what
the sermon will treat of to-day. The pastor is
good man. he approves of him, as a general
thing, but his sermons are getting a trife too
doctrinal of late. He must advise him TO take a
more poetical turn. The sky is very blue to-
day. Those roses on the table remind him of
the ones the dear mother used to carry in one
hand while she led him, with the other, to the
Westinghouse on Sundays in the days gone
by" He remembers the walk through the
grassy lawn, and the secret wish that he might
dare to break from the maternal grasp and fly to
the woods and the creek The world was so
bright then. He recalls himself restless pris
oner in the white-painted pew, watching the old
farmers-fathers in Israel-with their wives
walking heavily up the bare aisles to the ''amen
corners" while the younger members of tine con-
gregation sat modestly back He remembers
that solemn hymns were sung, the words
of which made no impressioo. but with
tunes that brought a nameless horror to his
childish soul. There was prayer, long one,
and a longer Sermon through which the preach
er attacked the wooden desk before him as If
with great feroeity. What he said was not de-
mandatory BE wanted all his hearers to be
converted. and his fists emphasized the wish
upon the pulpit. He, himself. was converted, he
said, on the spot where that same building stood;
on the 18th of August, 1912, at 1875 o'clock,
his sins we're washed away, and from the black
ness of despair he was made to rejoice with
great joy. All his hearers might enter into the
same peace, that moment, If they would. "Now
was the appointed time" The fathers in Israel
said, "Amen, amen" but the boy, listening, was
glad in his heart that the preacher did not mean
him. It would be time enough for him TO be con-
verified when he grew to be a man. Then the
girl in pink played upon the melodeOn, while the
congregation sang, "There Is a land Of pure de-
light" and, with the echo of that hymn in his
ears, the man at the window wakes from his
dream half believing he has been hearing the
old-time exhortative. When Maria comes in,
her heavy black silk looking like a cas-
ing OF Russia iron, and says stranger,
regular wooden man, occupied their
pastors place that day, he is glad he stayed at
home, and then checks his self-gratulation with
the wonder If he has not reached the years his
childish mind had fixed upon for conversion.
Somehow, he still seems to have been to church,
after all.