 We naturally personify it, and conceive its massive walls and its dim emptiness to be instinct with a calm, and meditative, and somewhat melancholy spirit.  But the steeple stands foremost, in our thoughts, as well as locally.  It impresses us as a giant, with a mind comprehensive and discriminating enough to care for the great and small concerns of all the town.  Hourly, while it speaks a moral to the few that think, it reminds thousands of busy individuals of their separate and most secret affairs.  It is the steeple, too, that flings abroad the hurried and irregular accents of general alarm; neither have gladness and festivity found a better utterance, than by its tongue; and when the dead are slowly passing to their home, the steeple has a melancholy voice to bid them welcome