Wheeling daily intelligencer. [volume] (Wheeling, Va. [W. Va.]) 1852-1859, 1858-12-07

THE INTELLIGENCFR.
From the Chicago Journal.
And hl1 prayeTs-.they nre ended.

III an eastern paper we read line or two,
the other day, the brief announcement Of a
DEATH 1t was in little type; It was without
note or comment; only the death of the old vii
lage minister.
And so, the rayahaired man who ministered
at the Altar, is dead: whose feet as they walked
on lions Hill were very beautiful in our ewes.
how well we remember, when the storm came
up, and the sun was hidden, and cloud called
out to cloud, that we wished "the Minister
would come, for surely no harm would enter
the dwelling that he blest? We used TO forget
about the falling sparrows, but then we had
faith in ham, and many time did we wonder
and doubt whether he ever could die like other
men; and whether he would not be waited
| fire. -
Then, they had not thrown away the old
Deacon and got one that was new; a sleek look
ing, juvenile deacon, with glossy, black hair
The gallery was not gay with red curtains on
| rings, from behind which came whispers and
song. Then &c had st. Martins st. Thomas
and Near.
Shall we ever hear Denmark and Corrinth
againp Sweetly rose Dundee's wild warble in
those long gone days; Old Hundred and Wells
and Peterboro'-how grand they were, when
the breath of the great congregation went up
together, and the voices of natron and maiden
were blended.
How distinctly the picture rises immemory
the plain old church, and the people singing be.
fore the Lord. The minister read sEo,. their in
struction,' every Sabbath morning, and prayed
for the lambs of the flock and for them that
were feeble and old that God would have them
all III his good keeping, guide them in green pas
lures and lead them beside the still waters, and
gather them all in the fold at the last. How
much snow there used to be sprinkled about
there in June-time's SHOWS on the locks of the
old. They tell US there is less of it now; that
the children whose ieet swung clear fthe floor,
fI1oF ard
voice OF the Elder is stilIcd, and the prayers
that he uttered, are ended. They have removed
the old square pulpit, as high as house, that
succeeded the swallows nest of predecessor,
against the wall; the swallows nest of pulpit,
that hung there beneath a flower-Shaped bell,
that Llne9uS never numbered nor named.
We arc sorry the old square lookout between
heaven and earth, is removed, for it was for
years among the mysteries of childhood what
there might be in it if ever an angel, and
where the minister went when we could not see
him. Often had we stood at the foot of the
stairs that led up to the mystery; but only once
did we venture to ascend them. Judge of our
disappointment, that there was nothing of gold
there; no glories that we had read of in the
Apocalypse, for we fanced there were; there
was rough, bare floor, an uncushioned bench,
an old worn bibic an ancient copy of Watts
Ps9lmody, and a little pile of Sunday-School
books in corner
And it was thence, from the midst of such
place, those words of eloquence had come, that
charmed and distilled and awed us then; that
charm, and thrill and awe us in memory vet.
We assembled the little platform, and standing
upon tip-toc, looked over the high brcast-worF
upon the empty pews; there was something very
grand about it, we thought, that almost made US
brcathlcSs. and stealing down, we left the sacred
place; moro sacred to US than any We have seen
since, save the spot where the minister has
wcaried and slept.
The members of the old congregation have
gone up to loftier courts, and we shall see them
no more. The grandmothers in sober black,
that came tottering in with theirwhite llandkcr-
chiefs smoothly folded and laid upon their arms;
the fair browed girls that sang the alto and the
air; the children with the sprigs of carraway
and dill; the Deacon whose head blossonled like
an Almond tree hard by the pulpit door; the old
women that in winter time broughtthe tin foot
stoves for solace; the little paper fans that
waved, when days were summer, like so many
| little wings about the church, as lfthe old min
lister had afamily of cherubim for audience, tho
old Doxology they used to sing lastin the after
noon; the trembling bencdiction like the bles-
sing of patriarch, they received these We shall
never see aud hear again as they were.
No longer in Sabbath moons, do they sit upon
the grass beneath the old poplars, and talk in
tones subdued, while taking their frugal meal;
no longer do they linger among the old, gray
grave stones of "the buryins ground" thats
=
willows that never put forth leaf; for the times
have changed, and there is but one scTmona a
day, and those who brought their dinners of
old, have sat down, the most of them, to the
feast of the Lamb, where the tree of life, the
true cree Of Heaven, and no poplar, is blooming
forever. sas
The Deafwho sat onthe pulpit stairs in those
| old times, can hear the waving Of a seraphs
wing to-day, for Hthe daughters of music" have
been lifted from the dust wherein they were ly-
| ing; the old blind man whose doubtful feet
young eyes did guide, lives now in morning
light; and old black JoNAu that stole softly in,
and sat humhly down in "a pew beside the door,
has been made white It last, and hidden to come
up higher.
We think it ought to be set down upon
map somewhere, that the old Church was very
near the 'house not made with hands"-only
the Grave7yard's breadth removed. We think
it ought somewhere to be written: the house
that they builded of old-let it remain forever.
Give TO Time the silyering of the walls they
have hallowed; letthe wind end the songs the
dead Singers began, aud the rains gently fall on
its echolesS threshold. 1
|, Mn Eupr,r,ris FIJI 49,, ~, H., NJ -