Rutland weekly herald. [volume] (Rutland, Vt.) 1859-1877, 1870-12-22

thete3wefS plenty OF 1oOC-StColSs ana w AUS
and Select Hymn books. The Lockhart
Society, composed entirely of the students,
sang, but to look over the hymn was the
pious privilege of all.
The front pew on the right hand as you
enter, was DIR. Porter's. Every Sabbath
until God kept him away, he was there
with his quaint little wife. He was a
tall man, with large head covered with
stiff gray hair, face pale and immobile,
eyes deep set, and mouth drawn as il
from suppressed pain. A man who never
wandered within the precincts of our
child-world, whom we beheld from afar,
venerated, and always thought of, with a
yellow bandanna hid about his throat,
and long, dark cloth hanging from his
barrow shoulders.
DR.. Woods sat next, noble looking
man, too recently here for me attempt his
portraiture. There were some of us who
had an indefnable dread of him because
he was Old School. Theological differ.
,uces had in those days peculiar person
Al tinge. In his presence, particularly on
sunday, we felt like practical illustrations
# original Gin, native depravity, free
agents gone astray and yet, not one OF
the grave, pre-occupied men by whom we
were surrounded had pleasanter word
for us, or more kindly smile. Anywhere
but amid the peculiar Andover life, and
on Sunday, he would be our favorite.
Professor Stuart sat third in order,
and to him the Sabbath was the social day
If the week. Study was over. A chapter
IT two in the Hebrew Bible or an epistle
in the Greek Testament, and the remain.
der of the day was literally rest. In the
morning, for an hour or two before break.
fast, he walked up and down the garden
be loved so well. With quick steps, head
erect, arms swinging, every muscle in his
tall, thin frame in active motion, bent ap.
oarently on the one object of securing his
exercise, he yet had eyes and ears for
everything that surrounded him. Not a
bird sung, not flower budded or bloomed
IN the trim little beds of which he had
the general care, not vegetable had
grown or ripened since his last visit, but
he knew it all. Very quick and keen his
senses were sources Of great pleasure as
we'll as gain.
Four-ffths of the year he carried his
great blue cloak on his arm to church
preading it carefully over the back of the
lew, and sitting upon 1t, he was the most
restless lisrner there. To keep still
seemed TO be physical impossibility. Ii
The sermon was poor, his Impotence
showed itself in shrugs, opening and shut
ing of bis large, white hands, moving in
1is seat, and a heightened face, pitable to
ee. Ii it was good, no one near him
doubted his appreciation, or the social
ceiling which made him wish TO share his
Enjoyment.
At the utterance of any specially peril
nent remark, he would often rise in his
+eat, turn round upon the young men
mis- stuaents-draw his red silk handker-
chief across his mouth several times, ex-
pressing in every feature the keenness of
his pleasure. If he differed theologically
from the sentiments uttered, no words
-tronsly than he managed TO by looks and
gesture.
DR.. Murdoch was in the next pew an
impassive man, living far more in the
past than in the present, caring little for
the pulpit utterance of to-day in compare
son with those of centuries ago. Small,
with delicate features, thin brown hair,
and brown eyes, he seemed to us like a
hermit who had wandered away from his
cell, and was pining and discentented.
We children always crossed the road to
avoid him, though he would scarcely have
noticed US had we met.
John Adams and Samuel Farrar occu-
pied pews on the left of the pulpit. John
Adams had not the scholarly look of the
other Andover dignitariee. Short and
stout, with forid complexion, large
nose, aud life-full blue eye, he stepped
up the broad aisle, with the prestige of
one used to command, great ivory-head.
ed cane coming in before him, and ring
ing down into the corner of his well filled
pew, with an emphasis not to be misun-
derstood.
Ssmuel Earrar was-not a common man
to any of us. With his delicate face, his
long gray hair falling back from rather
peculiar forehead, a shy, retiring manner,
and a very grave expression, even of
hands, he was by turns, David, Moses,
Isaiah, John, whom the Blessed One loved
any, and almost every, calendarsd saint.
He was a responsible theologian. listen
ing to every word of heresy ever dropped
from that small great wooden pulpit, as
if for one and all he must give An account
at the last great day.
What a peculiar audience that was
With the mysteries all unfolded, the
glass thrown up. seeing face to face"
how, l wonder, do those differences seem
now?
Services ended, we filed ont. The stu
dents by the door went first. Then pew
after pew was emptied, one by one, slowly
and solemnly, as if somebody in the en-
try was calling us out at funeral.
Then, still slowly ard solemnly. we
walked over the broad, graveled paths
homeward, families by themselves. If
,eclusion were in truth ssnctity, we were
all near Heaven on this holy day.
An intermission of two hours decorous-
ly passed at home with q cold dinner and
i. pious book, then church again, and a
return to the family Sabbath, the day to
US. A social tea, the pleasantest lay of
the whole week, and prayers-prayers
which were ours, for in them we all took
part.
The old mahogany book case, the open
door, the shelf holding seven small gilt
and black bibles, alike, the twelve brown
leather Codman's Hymns, the tall SCOTS
Family Bible, come back to me with
distinctness no canvass could picture.
Out of these bibles we read by turns, the
eldest child at home droning out the prao-
tical reflections with which the erudite
Scott flushed his commentary on the
words of Holy Writ, and then we sang
dear familiar hymn to dear old tune.
Near, Dundes,St. Martins. Old Hundred
ladders these, touching Heaven up
which she fathers soul followed his deep,
drawling notes triumphantly, ending
with the long prayer, and its welcome
"Amen" to his kneeling, impatient, little
ones.
Then came the twilight sun of sn An
dover Sabbath night, glinting in through
the western window of large upper
room, and group of children gathered
round delicate heaven-eyed mother,
holding in cher hand the Westminster
Shorter Oatechism.
Westminster was the golden clasp that
bound these sacred hours together. We
began and ended them over its wondreus
revelations. A hated old book 1t was to
us, dog-eared, tear-blistered, full Of re-
-traint, obidings, and and infinite num-