The Ashland union. [volume] (Ashland, Ashland County, Ohio) 1854-1868, 1859-09-14
Wariftg.
THB OLD VILLAGE MINISTER.

50 tN - - 6A. ~
Many . readers heart will respond in almost
fearful sympathy, TO the emotions under which
this beautiful picture of the "Old Village Min
ister," and the Sabbath Associations of other
days, must have been sketched
In an eastern paper we read a line or two,
the other day-the brief announcement of a
death. 1t wasin little type, twas without note
or comment; only the death of the old village
minister And 80 the gray-haired man who
ministered at the altar is dead; whose feet, as
they walked on lions hill, were very beautiful
In our eyes. How well do they remember,
when the storm came up, and the sun was hid
den, and cloud called out to cloud, then we
wished ethe minister would come, for surely no
harm could enter the dwelling that he blessed!
We used to forget about the falling sparrows,
but then VIC had faith in him, and many a time
did we wonder and doubt whether he ever
could die Xix other men and whether he
would not be waited away, like the prophet of
old in a chariot of fire.
Then, they had not thrown away the old
deacon and got one that was new a sleek-lock-
ing, juvenile deacon, with glossy black hair
The gallery was not gay with red curtains on
rings, from behind which came whispers and
songs. Then we had St Martins, st. Thomas
and Near.
O03l we ever near OenmaTk anu OCIlnLn
again? Sweetly rose Dundee's wild MARBLE 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 matron
and maiden were blended.
How distinctly the picture rises in memory;
the plain old church and the people singing be-
fore the Lord. The minister "read for their
instruction" every Sabbath morning, and pray
j g I--l--c AL - 60 III
were feeble and old that God would have
them all in His good keeping, guide them in
green pastures, and lead them beside the still
waters, and gather them all in the fold at last.
How much snow were used to be sprinkled
about them in June-time's snow on the locks
of the old. They tell US there is less now
that the children whose feet swung clear of the
floor, are the men and women to day and the
voice of the elder is stilled, and the prayers
that he uttered are ended. They have re-
moved the old square pulpit, as high as a house,
that succeeded the swallows most of a prede-
eessor against the wall the swallows nest of a
pulpit that hung there beneath a flower shaped
bell that LinnBus never numbered or named.
We are sorry that the old square lookout be
tween the heaven and earth is removed, for it
was for years among the mysteries of child
hood, what might be in tiff even 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 ever venture to ascend them.
Judge of our disappointment-there was moth
ing of gold there no glories that we had read
of in the Apocalypse; for we fancied there were;
there were a rough, bare floor, an uncushioned
bench, an old worn Bible, an ancient copy of
Watts' Psalmody, and a little pile of Sunday
school books in the corner.
And it was from thence, in the midst of
such q place, those words of ~eloquence had
come, that charm, and thrill, and awe US in
memory yet. We assembled the little platform,
and, standing upon tiptoe, looked over the high
breast work, upon the empty pews; there was
something very grand about it, We thought,
that almost made US breathless and, stealing
,iown, we left the slcred place; more sacred to
us than any we have seen since save the spot
where the minister has wearied and slept.
e The members of the old congregation have
gone up to loftier courts, and we shall see
them no more.
The grandmothers of sober black, that came
lettering in with their white handkerchief
smoothly folded and laid on their arms the
fair proved girls, that sung the alto and the
air the children, with the springs of caroway
and dill ; the deacon, whose head blossomed
ike an almond tree, hard by the pulpit door
the old women, thatin the winter time, brought
the tin f~ootstove for q solace ; the little paper
fans, that waved, when the days were summer,
like so many little wings about the church as
if the old minister had a family of cherubims
for audience, the old doxology they used to
sing last in the afternoon; the trembling bene-
diction, like the blessing of a patriarch, they
received-these we shall never. see and 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
gravestones of "the burying ground" that is
since a Cemetery" and contemplate the stone
willows that never put forth a leaf; for the
times are changed, and there is but one SER
mon a day, and those who brought their din
ners of old, have sat down to the feast of the
Lamb, where the tree of life, the true tree of
is blooming forever.
The deaf who sat on the pulpit stairs in
those old times, can hear the waving of a
wing to-day, for the Daughters of
have been lifted from the dust wherein
they were lying; the old blind man, whose
doubtful feet young eyes did guide, lives now
in light; and old black Jonah, that stole softly
in, and sat hu1nbly down in a pew beside the
door, has been made white at last and hidden
come UP higher.
We think it ought to be set down upon a
map somewhere, that the old church was very
near "the house not made with hands"-only
the grayeyard's breadth removed. We think
it ought somewhere to be written, tThat
house that they builded of old-let it remain
Give to time the shivering of the
wall they have hallowed let the wind end
songs the dead singers began, and the rains
gently fall on the echoless threshold"