Western Reserve chronicle. [volume] (Warren, Ohio) 1855-1921, 1859-09-28
THE OLD VILLAGE MINISTER.

under which this beautiful picture of the
"Old Village Minister and the Sabbath
Associations Of other days must have beer
r sketehed -
c In an eastern paper we read line OF
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 village minister. And 50 the
gray-haired man who ministered at the al
tar 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 bles-
sed! We used to forget about the falling
sparrows, Luz 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 could 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; sleek
looking, juvenile deacon, with glossy black
hair. The gallery was not gay with red
curtains on rings, from behind which came
whispers and songs Then VIC had ST. Mar
tins, st. Thomas and Near.
Shall we ever hear Denmark and Corinth
again? Sweetly rose Dundee's wild war
bic in those long-gone days; Old Hundred,
and Wells, and Peterboro-how grand they
were when the breath of the great con-
gregation went up together, and the voices
of matrons and maidens were blended
How distinctly the picture rises in men,
ory; the plain old church and the people
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 keep
ing, guiding them in green pastures, and
gather them all in the fold at the last
How much snow there used to be sprinklel
about them in June-time's 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 bOusc, that sue
ceeded the swallows nest of predecessor
against the wall; the swallows nest of
pulpit that hung there beneath flower
shaped bell that Lenneus never numbered
nor named.
We are sorry that the old square look
out between the heaven and earth is remov-
cd, 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
disappointment-there was nothing of gold
there; no glories that We had read of in
the Apocalypse; for We fancied there were;
there was rough, bare floor, an uncushion-
ed bench, an old worn Bible, an ancient
copy of Watts Psalmody, and little pile
of Sunday school books in one 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 plat
form, and, standing upon tiptoc, looked over
the high breastwork, upon the empty pews;
there was something very grand about it,
We thought, that almost made us breathless; a
and, stealing down, we left the sacred place; t
more sacred to US than any We have seen c
since, save the spot where the minister has /
Tearied and slept. t
The members of the old congregation have
zone up to loftier courts, and we shall sec a
hem no more. r
The grandmothers in sober black, that O
anne tottering in with their white handker- L
hiefs smoothly folded and laid on their
rms; the fair browed girls, that sung the
Ito and the air; the children, with the T
prigs of caroway and dill; the deacon, S
those head blosSomed like an almond tree,
ard by the pulpit door; the old women, X
hat in the winter time, brought the tin foot c.
toves for a solace; the little paper fans.
hat waved, when the days were summer, \
Ike so many little wings about the church, "
S if the old minister had family of cher
bin for audience; the old doxology they h
sed to sing last in the afternoon; the trem-
ling benediction, like the blessing of a in
they received-thesc we shall ney- hi
: see and hear again as they were.
No longer, in Sabbath moons, do they sit n
pom the grass beneath the poplars, and talk
tones subdued, while taking their frugal P'
eal: no longer do they linger among the
d gray gravestones of the burying ground. Ill
lat is since cemetery, and contemplate
lie stone willows that never put forth a
af; for the times are changed, and there ho
but one sermon day, and those who
rought their dinners of old, have sat down nc nc
the feast of the Lamb where the tree of Nj
fe, the true tree of Heaven, is blooming
rever
The deaf who sat on the pulpit stairs in NJ
loso old times. can hear the waving of a III