The Middlebury register. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1850-1882, 1873-01-14

y
will toll solemny when your spirits pass
from earth But heneforth expect us
not to do work which your commonesi
house e.clocks can do as we'll Let your
eight-day clocks-your glded time.pieces
call you TO work, and eat, and rest.
We are sacred things, set solemnly apart
from all secular uses. Our business is
! with Eternity, and the Church, and
Heaven. Call on us no more to commune
with the things of the world, and earth,
and time. We are your household clock
chimes no longer"
Then the voice died away on the night
air For few minutes there was silence
but soon it was broken by sobs and la
mentations, and all the people lifted up
their voice as one man, and wept.
The house father said, "Shall we never
more hear your voice calling us 20 morn
ing and evening prayer Whenever you
told us it was the hour, the mother came
from her work, and the children from
their play, and together we knelt, unit
ed family and committed each other to
God"
And the mother said, "Y our voices are
blended with every happy household
time. Sweet bells, will you mngle with
our family joys no more? In the morn.
ing you wakencd US to begin another busy
day, aud the suns beams and your voices
came together to call US to serve God in
our lowly calling; and both we thought
came to us from heaven and both we
thought, were meek and lowly, and ready
to minister to us in our daily lives, be-.
cause both were sent from Him who came
among US once, not to be ministered and
both we thought, had caught something of
the light Of the eyes which wept at Beth.
any, and of the tones of the voice which
spoke at Cana and at Main. At midday
you told me it was time to send the din.
ner to my husband and elder sons. At
six your voice was welcome to us all, be.
cause we knew the fathers step would
soon be on the threshold AT eight you
reminded me i. was time to lay the little
ones to rest; and many a time have you
brought happy and holy thoughts to me
IN those psalms you sang to me whilst |
hushed my babes sleep and all my every
day life seemed to be more linked with
sacred things, to become as it were,
part Of the service of God, because it
moves to the music Of your voices. And
again at night your tones were welcome,
as in the morning, when they told US the
days work was over, and wearied, we
lay down to peaceful rest, for through the
night we knew your sacred voices would
sound to Heaven above our sleeping city,
like the voices of the angels, who rest
not day nor night, saying, Holy, holy.
holy, Sweet bells ! will you never chime
for US again ?"
And the children said in their dear
sweet, ringing voices, Dear chimes do
not cease to play for US. You wake US
d srad US VSS Soe se' us sugSIug sSG G% ana
dancing for joy; you call our fathers
home 20 u.s. at night you sing us to sleep,
and your voices are blended with our
mothers in our happy dreams. Sweet
chlhes; you sang so many years to our
fathers and mothers; and our grandfath.
ers remember you when they were little
children like us. Dear chimes sing to
US still"
And from the sick chamber which
looked into the cathedral square, where
the windows were darkened all day; and
sand was strewn before the door, that the
DIN OF the passing wheels might Just jar
less roughly on the aching head within.
came low and plaintive ce,-"Sweet
bells your commonest tones are sacred
to me. You are my church music,-the
only church music | can ever hear. When
l hear you chime the hours on Sundays
and on the festivals, l feel myself among
the multitude within your sacred walls
and your voice seems to bear their songs
OF praise to me, and l am no more alone,
but one OF the worshippers. But at night
1t Is prize you most All through the
hours of darkness. so often sleepless to
me, your voice is the voice of friend,
familiar as my mothers yet solemn as the
chants of the choir. 1t helps me to meas.
ure the hours of pain, and say, Thank
God, an hour less of night. and an hour
nearer morning And how often, when
my suffering is great, you have come with
the old psam-tune, and every tone has
brought its work to me, and spoken to
me as if direct from God, and filled my
heart with trust and peace ! Your least
sprinkles Of sweet sound are precious to
me: fancy they are like the waters of
time falling musically FROM stone to stone
m ha / faall
they are as the echoes Of the footsteps of
Him who is drawing nearer and nearer to
me; and they draw my heart nearer to
Him. Sweet bells! your commonest
tones are sacred for what is the world
but that which becomes the church when
It learns how God has loved it, and turns
from self to Him, and what is earth but
the floor of Heaven, which heavenly feet
once trod, and what is time but the little
fragment OF eternity in which we live on
earth? =? Sweet bells make not my Sleep
less nights lonely and silent, but sing to
me, sing to US all, as of old. Make all
our life sacred by linking every fragment
Of our life to God"
But still no responsible sound came
from the cathedral tower, and the people
waited on in the silence and the darkness
At last young priest, an Augustinian
friar, ventured bold suggestion "Are
not the devils proud, and the angels low
ly? Did the angel think it beneath him
to say to Elijah, Arise, and eat? Did
Gabriel hesitate to descend from the
presence of God to bear to an aged priest
the tidings OF the birth of child ? Did
the other angel deem it secular to say to
Peter the apostle, 'Gird thyself, aud bind
thy sandals, and cast thy garment about
thee, before he led him over tho stony
streets through the cold night air? And
should our cathedral bells scorn 20 bid us
lrisn nd tl, aL..... L. l. .