The weekly Anglo-African., 1859-10-15
THE OLD VILLAGE MINISTER.

ed.
In an Eastern paper we read line or
two the other day-the brief announce
ment of death 1t was in little type; it
was without note or commercially the
death of the old village minister. And so
the grey-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 we remember,
when the storm came up, and the sun was
hidden, and cloud called out to cloud, then
we wished ''the minister" would come, for
surely no harm could enter the dwelling
that he blessed We used to forget about
the falling sparrows; but then we had faith
in him, and many time did we wonder
and doubt whether he ever could die like
other men, and whether he would not be
waited away, like the prophet of old, in
chariot of fire.
Then they had not thrown away the old
deacon, and got one that was new-a sleek
looking, Juvenile deacon, with glossy black
hair. The gallery was net gay with red
curtains on rings, from behind which came
whispers and songs. Then we had ST.
Martins, st. Thomas, and Near.
Shall we ever hear Denmark and Corinth
again? Sweetly rose Dundee's wild war
BILE 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
voice of matron and maiden were blended.
How distinctly the picture rises in men,
ho r,loiD old nhurnb op1 tho Yaoon1a
singing before the Lord. The minister
"read for their instruction" every Sabbath
morning, and prayed for the lambs of the
flock, and for those that were feeble and
old-that God would have them all in his
own 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 there used to be sprinkled
about them in June-times snow, on the
locks of the old They tell US there is less
of it 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 removed the old
square pulpit, as high as house, that sue
ceeded the swallows nest of predecessor
against the wall-the swallows nest of a
pulpit that hung there beneath flower
shaped bell that Linneous never numbered
nor named
We are sorry that the old square lookout
between the heaven and earth is removed,
for it was for years among the mysteries of
childhood what might be in tiff 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 ever venture
to ascend them. Judge of our disappoint-
ment There was nothing of gold there
no glories that we had read of il the Apo
calypse-for we fancied there were; there
was rough, bare floor, an uncushioned
bench, an old worn Bible, an ancient copy
of Watts Psalmody, and little pile of
Sunday-school books in the corner.
And it was from thence, in the midst of
such 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 tip-toe, looked
over the high breastwork upon the empty
pews. There was something very grand
about it, we thought, that almost made us
breathless; and, stealing down, we left the
sacred place-more sacred to us than any
we have seen since, save the spot where
| the minister has wearied 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 their white handker
chiefs smoothly folded and laid on THEN
arms: the fair-browed girls that sung the
alto and the air; the children, with the
sprigs of carroway and dill; the deacon
whose head blossomed like an almond tree
hard by the pulpit door; the old woman
that, in the winter-time, brought the tin
foot-stove for 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 family of cher
ubims for an audience; the old doxology
they used to sing last in the afternoon; the
trem bling benediction, like the blessing Of
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 grey grave-stones in the
'burying ground" that is since "cemete-
ry," and contemplate the stone willows that
never put forth leaf, for the times are
changed, and there is but one sermon a
day, and those who brought dinners of old
have sat down to the feast of the Lamb,
where the tree of life, the true of Heaven,
is blooming forever.
The deaf, who sat at the pulpit stairs in
those old times, can hear the waving of a
seraph's wings to-day, for the daughters
of music" 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, who stole softly in and sat down in
a pew beside the door, has been made white
at last, and hidden come up higher
| Wo th;pE ~ m, o,bt 70 h. eot i ox,,,, $780,,