The author makes regular Biblical references and allusions in Silas Marner. For example, in Chapter 10 when the inhabitants of Raveloe go to a Christmas service, the decorations and music are described in the following way:
Those green boughs, the hymn and anthem never heard but at Christmas—even the Athanasian Creed, which was discriminated from the others only as being longer and of exceptional virtue, since it was only read on rare occasions—brought a vague exulting sense [...] that something great and mysterious had been done for them in heaven above and in earth below, which they were appropriating by their presence.
The allusion Eliot makes here to the Athanasian Creed—a lengthy early Christian statement of belief which outlines the nature of the Holy Trinity of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—suggests serious attention to the religious aspects of the Christmas celebration. The Creed is very long and complicated, but at Christmas, instead of being boring, it brings a "vague exulting sense" to the villagers, a feeling of awe and festive spirit.
Anecdotes like this, which weave Christian literature and imagery into the everyday life of the village, support the storyline of personal growth that Silas undergoes. Christianity, Eliot implies, can be woven into the normal fabric of his life instead of interrupting it. These allusions would have also provided context for Eliot's Victorian reader, who might have been more familiar with these Biblical snippets than some of the author's other, more academic references.
The Christmas setting here makes the characters reflect on their lives and feel grateful for the workings "in heaven above and in earth below" that allow them to be "exulting." Unlike the discontented Silas and the inhabitants of the Red House, they don't need material things in order to be content. This "exulting" is a pretty idealized depiction of the rural poor by Eliot, but its stereotypical downplaying of poverty is tempered by more thorough characterization later in the novel.
Other allusions in the book (among almost a hundred instances) align Silas with pilgrims and saints, and Eppie with the newborn Jesus. The village of Lantern Yard is compared to the doomed metropolis of Sodom at the end of Chapter 14. Eliot writes that:
In old days there were angels who came and took men by the hand and led them away from the city of destruction. We see no white-winged angels now. But yet men are led away from threatening destruction: a hand is put into theirs, which leads them forth gently towards a calm and bright land, so that they look no more backward; and the hand may be a little child’s.
The "angels who came" to guide the faithful are no longer present in Silas's world, but his very own guiding hand has appeared in Eppie. The touch of a "little child" which leads him to "a calm and bright land" where he can be happy and fulfilled enables him to leave the "threatening destruction" of his past behind.
In Chapter 10 of Silas Marner Dolly alludes to the British Christian tradition of carol-singing, remarking to Silas that nothing stirs her blood like Christmas music:
There’s no other music equil to the Christmas music—“Hark the erol angils sing.” And you may judge what it is at church, Master Marner, with the bassoon and the voices, as you can’t help thinking you’ve got to a better place a’ready—for I wouldn’t speak ill o’ this world, seeing as Them put us in it as knows best—but what wi’ the drink, and the quarrelling, and the bad illnesses, and the hard dying, as I’ve seen times and times, one’s thankful to hear of a better. [...]
The carol that Dolly mentions is "Hark! The Herald Angels Sing," a classic Christian hymn that celebrates the birth of Christ. Like the baby Jesus in the Christmas story, the baby Eppie has just appeared in Silas's home, bringing change and revitalizing his world. The "better" world that Dolly speaks of is just around the corner for Silas, just as Christians sing about when they celebrate the coming of Christ in this song. However, the "hammer-like rhythm"of the carols—as Eliot describes it when the narrative switches back to focusing on Silas—has a very different effect on the weaver than it does Dolly. The sound interferes with the rhythm of his weaving, and he doesn't get any encouragement from the music. It's not until Eppie opens his heart and he re-engages with a gentler version of Christianity that he's able to feel affected by it.
Eliot makes a humorous use of Northern Dialect here. "Erol angils" instead of "herald angels" implies that Dolly gets a sense of what the music is about without actually understanding what it's invoking. Carols transport Dolly to heaven in this segment, as she "can't help thinking" she is in a "better place," away from the "illnesses, and the hard dying." The Christmas music apparently offers an escape from the grindingly repetitive and hard "times and times" for England's rural poor. Dolly doesn't have to understand what the words mean to be moved by the carol. The intense sensory language of the swell and murmur of this affecting music, from the low notes of the "bassoon" to the "voices," carries Dolly's bliss and transportation through to the reader.
The author makes regular Biblical references and allusions in Silas Marner. For example, in Chapter 10 when the inhabitants of Raveloe go to a Christmas service, the decorations and music are described in the following way:
Those green boughs, the hymn and anthem never heard but at Christmas—even the Athanasian Creed, which was discriminated from the others only as being longer and of exceptional virtue, since it was only read on rare occasions—brought a vague exulting sense [...] that something great and mysterious had been done for them in heaven above and in earth below, which they were appropriating by their presence.
The allusion Eliot makes here to the Athanasian Creed—a lengthy early Christian statement of belief which outlines the nature of the Holy Trinity of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—suggests serious attention to the religious aspects of the Christmas celebration. The Creed is very long and complicated, but at Christmas, instead of being boring, it brings a "vague exulting sense" to the villagers, a feeling of awe and festive spirit.
Anecdotes like this, which weave Christian literature and imagery into the everyday life of the village, support the storyline of personal growth that Silas undergoes. Christianity, Eliot implies, can be woven into the normal fabric of his life instead of interrupting it. These allusions would have also provided context for Eliot's Victorian reader, who might have been more familiar with these Biblical snippets than some of the author's other, more academic references.
The Christmas setting here makes the characters reflect on their lives and feel grateful for the workings "in heaven above and in earth below" that allow them to be "exulting." Unlike the discontented Silas and the inhabitants of the Red House, they don't need material things in order to be content. This "exulting" is a pretty idealized depiction of the rural poor by Eliot, but its stereotypical downplaying of poverty is tempered by more thorough characterization later in the novel.
Other allusions in the book (among almost a hundred instances) align Silas with pilgrims and saints, and Eppie with the newborn Jesus. The village of Lantern Yard is compared to the doomed metropolis of Sodom at the end of Chapter 14. Eliot writes that:
In old days there were angels who came and took men by the hand and led them away from the city of destruction. We see no white-winged angels now. But yet men are led away from threatening destruction: a hand is put into theirs, which leads them forth gently towards a calm and bright land, so that they look no more backward; and the hand may be a little child’s.
The "angels who came" to guide the faithful are no longer present in Silas's world, but his very own guiding hand has appeared in Eppie. The touch of a "little child" which leads him to "a calm and bright land" where he can be happy and fulfilled enables him to leave the "threatening destruction" of his past behind.
