Anti-slavery bugle. [volume] (New-Lisbon, Ohio) 1845-1861, 1855-12-08
III miscellaneous.
OLD FAITH NOR
ny MRS. II. BsEcuER STOWE,

-
OF NIL the mar,els that astonished my childhood
there is meme that | remember to this day
with 50 much interest as the oil man whose name
forms my caption. When | knew him he wa,
au nged clergyman. settled over an obscure churtl
in New England. lie had enjoyed the advanta
yes of a liberal education, had II strong, origlna
power Of thought. an omnipOtent Imagination, unt
much general Information but 50 early ano Sc
deeply had the habits aud associations Of the pillow
the farm and country life, wrought themselves ihtC
his mind, that his after requirements could only
iningle with them. forming an unexalnpled anal
gam like unto nothing but itself.
lie was an ingram New Highlander and whatever
might have been the source Of his information, i
came out in Yankee form. with the proyinciality o
of Yankee dialect.
l. is vain to attempt to give Il full picture o
euCh a genuine unique; but sumc slight and imper
feet dishcs may help the imagination to a faint ide'
ofwhat ncne can fully conceive but those who hay,
heard old Father Morris.
Suppose yourself one of q halEa.dozen children
aud you hear the cry, Father Morris is coming =
You run to the window or door, and sec a tall
bulky old man, with IA pair of saddle-bags on on
arm, ~hitching his old horse with n f~umbling care
fullness, anu then deliberately stamping toward
the house. You police his tranquil, forid, full
moon countenauce, lightened by a great pair 0
round blue eyes, that roll with dreamy inattentiye
ness on all the objects around and as he takes of
his hat, you see the white curling wig that sets of
llo iOubd hNtti L Nbibto WV Nb'f hhN ~
you stand staring, with al! the children around, he
deliberately puts his great hand on your head, and
with a deep voice, inquiries
"Ilow dye do, my darter? Is your daddy at
home?" MY darter" usually makes off rs fast
us possible, in an uncomfortable giggle. Father
Morris goes into the house, and VIC watch him at
every turn, as, with the most liberal simplicity,
he makes himself at home, takes off his wig, wipes
down his great face with a checked pocket-hand-
kerchief helps himself, hither and thither, to
whatever he warts, and asks for what he cannot
lay his hands on, with all the comfortable ease of
childhood.
remember to this day how we used to peep
through the crack of the door, and hold it half
ajar and peep in, to watch his motions and how
nightly diverted we were with his deep, slow
manner Of speaking, his heavy, cumbrous walk,
but above all, with the wonderful faculty Of "hem-
mjRg" which he possessed.
His dcep, laundering, protracted "A-hem-en,"
was like nothing else that | ever heard and when
once, as he was in the midst of one of these rerfor-
inances, the parlor door happened to swing open
suddenly, / heard one Of my roguish brothers call
ing in n suppressed tone, Charles. Charles. Fa-
Their Morris has hcmmed the door open and
then followed signs Of a long and desperate litter,
in which l sincerely sympathized.
But the morrow is Sunday. The old man rises
in the pulpit. He is now in his own litJle humble
parish, preaching simply to the hocrs of corn and
the planters of potatoes but here sits Gov. d.,
md there is Judge r., and counselor p ard
Judge G..
In short, he is before q refined and literary au-
dicnce. But Father Norris rises he thinks moth
ing of this he cares nothing lie knows nothing,
rs he himself would say, "but Jesus Christ and
him cruciied." lie takes a passage of Scripture
to explain perhaps it is the walk OF Emmaus and
the conversation with his disciples. Immediately
the whole would start out before you, living and pic
turesque the road to Emmaus is a New England
turnpike you can see its milestones, its mullen
stalks, and its toll-gates. Next, the disciples rise
and you have before you all their anguish, and
hesitation, and dismay, talked out to you in thu
language of your own Preside. You smile, yot
are amused, yet you are touched, and the illusion
grows every moment. You see the approaching
stranger, and the mysterious conversation grow.
more and more interesting. Emmaus rises in th'
distance, in the likeness Of a New England village
with a white meeting house and spire. You fol
low the travellers; you enter the house with them
nor do you wake from your trance, until will
streaming eyes the preacher tells you that they
saw it was the Lord Jesus-and uhat 4 pity the,
could not have known it before!"
1t was after a sermon on this very chapter 0
scripture history that Gov. Griswold, in passin,
out of the house, laid hold on the sleeve of hi
first acquaintance; pray tell me-" said he, "wh,
is this minister"
"Why, it is old Father Morris"
well, he is an oddly and a genius too, / de
clare he continued. Il have been wondering al
NV 'O'Aih w. 800 h"'S 'N"N VAN ''''S -
50 little purpose as not to see all these particular
he has presented"
] once heard him narrate, in this PICTURESQUE
way, the story Of Lazarus. The great bustlin;
city of Jerusalem first rises TO view, and you ar
told, with great simplicity, how the Lord Jesu
''used to &c! tired of the noise;'' and how he wa
"tired Of preaching again and again, to a peopl,
who would not mind a word he said )" and how
"when it came evening, he used to 90 out and see
his friends in Bethany" Then he told about the
house of Mary and Martha; "a little white house
among the trees" he said, you could lust see j
from Jerusalem" And here the Lord Jesus and
his disciples used to go.Nnd sit evenings with Mary
Martha and Lazarus.
Then the narrator went on to tell how Lazarus
died, describing with tears and n choking voice
the distress they were in, and how they sent
message to the Lord Jesus, and he did not come
and how they wondered and wondered and thu
he went on, winding up the interest with In
graphic miHitttP of an eyewitness, till he wOk
you from the dream by his triumphant joy at lii
resurrection scene.
Gu another occasion. as lie was sitting at n tea
table, unusually sdpplied with cakes and sweet
meats, he found an opportunity to make a prac
teal allusion to the same family story. lie SAT-
that Mary was quiet and humble, sitting at he
Sayior's feet to hear his words but Martha tho
more of what was to be got for tea. Marth,
could not find time to listen to Christ. No sh,
was "cumbered about much serving "-aroun,
b 'J"o NN $500 HNN''o SHSNA
bread.
Among his own simple people his style of scrir
ture-painting was listened to with brea,hless in
terest. But it was particularly in those rusti
circles, called conference meetings" that hi
whole warm soul u%nfolded, and the Bible in hi
hands became a gallery of New England pain
ings.
He particularly loved the Evangelists, followin
the footsteps of Christ, dwelling upon his words
repeating over and again The stories of what h
did, with all the fond veneration of an old ant
favored servant.
Sometimes, too, he would give the narrative al
exceedingly practical turn, as one example viii
illustrate.
se had noticed a falling off in his little circlt
that met for social prayer, and took occasion, tn,
fret time he collected a tolerable audience, to tel
~oncersing the 'eonierence meeting that the dis
fiples attended after the resurrection"
but Thomas was net with them. Thomas wa
mot wsah tiem, " said tue old man, in a sorrowfu
0oioe. Why, what could keep Thomas away? p