The weekly pioneer and Democrat. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn. Territory) 1855-1865, 1863-11-13
THE MINISTER'S SWEETHEART.

Young William Betswor,h arose in the
pulpit of the quaint old church at Elms-
dale, to deliver his first sermon, ard cast
his soft blue eyes along the aisles and up
to the gallery, where the organ stood and
where the choir sat. Now that the hymn
was over, and the last low murmur of the
organ had melted into silence-now that
all faces were turned towards him, and
the hush seemed to say, more plainly than
words could, eve ere waiting for you; ;"
the young minister undertook at last the
ordeal that lay before him. and stood
there with beating heart and cheek
that changed from read to white, and from
white to red again with every breath.
One accustomed to the sight of crowd
ed houses, and to the knowledge that the
words which fell from his lips were listen
ed to and criticised by men of letters and
women of the world, might have smiled
at the confusion elected by the presence
of these old-fashioned farmers and their
wives, and wonder how one who, judging
by his face, hal not only talent, but am
bition, could have been content to make
even his first effort in the presence of such
an audience.
Talented the young man certainly was,
and ambitious also, though he scarcely
knew it yet himself; but the little village
was his world, and the people in those
brown old pews seemed for the moment
to hold his fate in their hands Again, as
he unfolded the white paper, covered with
his delicate, distinct handwriting, his blue
eyes wandered about the church, and read
the faces upturned towards him. There,
grim and uncomprOmising, sat Deacon
Grumble, looking out for some flaw in
doctrine, or some wandering sentence
which savored OF a want OF zeal. Yon-
der was Deacon Doleful, ready to shake
his head in melancholy prediction of his
failure. Behind him an old man venera-
be, who had no faith in "young minis
ters," and would have fain had an octo-
genarian in every pulpit; and farther
back, Squire Gray, the abolitionist. side
by side with Uncle Gobble, the pro-
slavery man of the village, at whom he
was looking bowie knives. These, and
host of other malcontents, were to be
propitiated; and there also were his old
father and mother, fond and anxious as
parents could be, and sitting beside them
his scapegracc brother, Jasper, the widest
scion of that quiet family, brown-skinned,
gypsy-eyed anG laughter-loving. Bold in
his speech, and careless in his mirth, he
was far better judge of the true merits
of his sermon (from worldly point of
view) than any other there. William
dreaded this auditor more than all the
rest-for had not bold Jasper in his hardi-
hood, declared that minister to be a
proper teacher of his flock, must be tai
ented and enlightened, as well as good
and Jealous? And furthermore, to the
intense horror of good Deacon Doleful,
that fine reading should not be confined
to the stage, but should be admitted to
the pulpit. Jasper-what would Jasper
think of his maiden sermon?
The paper was unfolded and spread out
upon the desk before him, and the young
minister strove to put these thoughts
away, and to think only of the great and
holy cause in which he had enlisted, and
of the One whose smile outweighs that of
the whole world If he struggled vainly,
others older and wiser than he may have
done the same, for ambition will not al
ways seat herself quietly beside the