The Union and journal. [volume] (Biddeford, Me.) 1858-1882, 1861-06-07
THE MINISTER'S WIFE.

The soft June breeze of q bright Sabbath
morning entered the open windows OF
pleasant church in Clinton, stirring the
airy plumes and delicate flowers Of many q
bcauty's hat, and rufling the iron gray on
many an old mans head. It was pleas
ant congregation. On the desk was tiny
white vase, crowned with tho most delicate
blossom Of the flower month, and white
rose lay upon the open page OF tho Bible.
A young man had walked easily up the
aisle, had taken his scat ut the desk, and
was now sweeping his full, dark eyes over
the congregation, as If to measure the work
before him. There were little irregularities
on tho surface of the broad forhead, as
though the brain had beat against the From
tai bone; the hair, thrown carelessly back,
was half inclined to curl, and the lips lay
together with finish and precision, in spite
Of redness and roundness. 1t was strong
face-not handsome, but earnest, grave.
This was the minister. The old warrior
who had battled the Prince Of the powers
Of the air for almost half o century, whose
broad hand had touched tho forehead OF
many and many sleeper, had but just now
gone to his rest, saying."I have fought q
good fight, have kept the faith"
Hymns had been read in full, rich tone
-praycr had been offered with humility yand
carncstncss. The preacher rose to speak.
The interest excited by the appearance and
bearing of the young orator, added to the
charm Of novelty, gave him the undivided
attention of every ono within the walls.
Commencing in low, musical tone, with
out ostentation, but with calm earnest
ness, he unfolded the points Of his theme,
{" The Power of Christian Life" As the
young preacher advanced in his discourse,
warming with the unthreading Of his argu-
ment, strengthening important points, and
enforcing home truths with the natural firc
of his nature, his whole face and figure
seemed kindlod to glow ofunrestrained en-
thusiasm, and the light of real genius shot
from his eyes. Nothing could have been
more complete than tho impression with
which his audience was held, when he said
"Amen."
The central pew in the ,hurch was oc-
cupied by family. the most noticeable
member of which was lady of fair com
plexion, a youthful roundncss of features,
dressed IN rich silk, and carrying her head
somewhat proudly. That she gave entire
attention to the discourse, is to be presumed,
since that may bo said Of each of the aud
ience. That she was impressed by the man
illness of the young preacher - that he ap-
preached the ideal of a proud and somewhat
intellectual nature-tho reader may take
upon the testimony Of the writer.
In corner pew in the church, near the
wall, but not far from the desk, sat an old
man, of not less than eighty winters. his
face furrowcd, and his thin hair white as
snow. From beside him, pale, classical,
maidcnly face pcercd up at the preacher
The young girl was plainly dressed-with
consummate ncatncss and taste, but with
q grave economy. At first she sat there
shrinkingly, half seeming to hide under the
broad, bent shoulders Of the aged grandfa-
ther, but when the tide Of thought was full.
ly aroused, the child forgot herself, and
permitted flashes Of feeling to play upon the
most expressive and changoful features that
l ever saw. During the whole sweep Of that
discourse, the study Of her face was like
reading poem. When the preacher, hav-
ing dwelt in glowing language upon the
beauty and power Of devotion to the hap
piness of others, closed the Bible and lifted
his hand for prayer, the young girl leaned
her head on her fingers, and wept in her
own still way-So like the falling Of an April
rain.
The old gentleman tottered feebly from
the church, and hence the two were the last
to descend the 'steps. 1t was strange
sight to any but the accustomed villagers
that great massive grandfather, supported
so braycly by the slight creature at his side !;
and yet it may be questioned whether hcever
doubted the strength Of his sweet little pro-
tector.
The old mans foot slippcd.upon the step,
and ho would have fallen quito upon the
little maiden, whose white fingers were
clasping his heavy arm, had not tho young
minister caught him at the instant, and
held him with strong hand.
The old man looked into tho face Of the
preacher, and, grasping his hand, said, in q
heavy and yet tremulous voice
You are brave lad, my son, q brave
lad. Never give way. Fight the good
fight. was young once, but now am old
and broken. Young men must wear the
armor now. Fight bnvcly, my son. God
blcss you God bless you ~
The young preacher held Masgic's hand
in his for moment, covering it quito with
his broad palm, while she, looking up to his
full. clear eyes. with her own speaking ones,
sank into herself with feeling Of utter
littlcness.
Poor little, foolish, Maggie; standing
there tho scli-reliant protector OF her grand
father, and yet looking up to the face Of the
young minister with such foeliug Of rcver.
ancc, OF illimihblc distance, rs gave her the
impression of sinking, sinking. till she half
believed herself no bigger than daisy.
Genius is Godlike, and has its worhippen |;
but these differ widely in their adoration-