时方晚秋，气象肃穆，略带忧郁，早晨的阴影和黄昏的阴影，几乎连接在一起，不可分别，岁云将暮，终日昏暗，我就在这么一天，到西敏大寺去信步走了几个钟头。古寺巍巍，森森然似有鬼气，和阴沉沉的季候正好相符；我跨进大门，觉得自己好像已经置身远古世界，忘形于昔日的憧憧鬼影之中了。

I entered from the inner court of Westminster School, through a long, low, vaulted passage that had an almost subterranean look, being dimly lighted in one part by circular perforations in the massive walls. Through this dark avenue I had a distant view of the cloisters, with the figure of an old verger in his black gown moving along their shadowy vaults, and seeming like a spectre from one of the neighboring tombs. The approach to the abbey through these gloomy monastic remains prepares the mind for its solemn contemplation. The cloisters still retain something of the quiet and seclusion of former days. The gray walls are discolored by damps and crumbling with age; a coat of hoary moss has gathered over the inscriptions of the mural monuments, and obscured the death’s heads and other funeral emblems. The sharp touches of the chisel are gone from the rich tracery of the arches; the roses which adorned the keystones have lost their leafy beauty; everything bears marks of the gradual dilapidations of time, which yet has something touching and pleasing in its very decay.

我是从西敏学校的内庭走进去的，先走过一条弧顶的矮矮的长廊，墙壁很厚，墙上有圆孔，略有光线透入，廊中幽暗，幽幽然似在地下行走。黑廊尽头，我远远的看见大寺里的回廊，一个老年香火道人，身穿黑袍，正沿着拱廊阴影里踽踽走去，看起来就像从附近的古坟里爬出来的鬼魂。我从当年僧院遗址那条路进入古寺，景象分外凄凉，我心也更适宜于往凄凉方面冥想了。回廊一带依然保留有几分当年的幽静出世之慨。灰色的墙壁为霉气所蒸，显得斑斑驳驳，年代己久，颓坏之象，也很明显。墙上长了一层白苍苍的苔薛，非但上面的碑文不可读，连骷髅像和别的丧用标志都模糊不清。弧顶布满雕刻花纹，可是斧钻的痕迹，也已模糊；拱心石上面雕有玫瑰花，可是当年枝叶茂美之状，已经不可复见。每样东西都可以看出年久衰败之象，可是即使处在颓朽之中，依然不乏赏心悦目之处。

The sun was pouring down a yellow autumnal ray into the square of the cloisters, beaming upon a scanty plot of grass in the centre, and lighting up an angle of the vaulted passage with a kind of dusky splendor. From between the arcades the eye glanced up to a bit of blue sky or a passing cloud, and beheld the sun-gilt pinnacles of the abbey towering into the azure heaven.

一道带有秋意的黄色阳光，正从回廊环绕的广场上空倾泻下来；照耀着场中央一块稀疏的草坪，同时把上有拱顶的过道一角抹上一层阴郁的光辉。从拱廊之间向上望去，可以瞥见一抹蓝天，或一朵游云，还有那镀着阳光，伸向碧空的寺顶尖塔，也巍然在目。

It seems as if the awful nature of the place presses down upon the soul and hushes the beholder into noiseless reverence. We feel that we are surrounded by the congregated bones of the great men of past times, who have filled history with their deeds and the earth with their renown.

寺里庄严气氛仿佛压制了游客的心灵，大家都有肃然起敬之感。我们觉得在我们的四周，聚集着古代伟人的骨骸，他们的名声和业绩彪炳史册，传遍了全球，可是如今他们一个个只剩一堆黄土。

And yet it almost provokes a smile at the vanity of human ambition to see how they are crowded together and jostled in the dust; what parsimony is observed in doling out a scanty nook, a gloomy corner, a little portion of earth, to those whom, when alive, kingdoms could not satisfy, and how many shapes and forms and artifices are devised to catch the casual notice of the passenger, and save from forgetfulness for a few short years a name which once aspired to occupy ages of the world’s thought and admiration.