The Wellington enterprise. [volume] (Wellington, Ohio) 1867-188?, 1880-06-03
An English Village Church.

IL WIS inc Olu Dulluinp, STaN-tOW-
cred and full of lustrous glass of the
fifteenth century; the high, ol6-fash-
ioned pews were rapidly giving place
to new ones, yet enough remained TO
give the church that look of permanent
quaintness we had expected There
were arches of pale-gIay stone dividing
the aisles, a brass lectern, a fine rood
screen and organ painted in Byzantine
colors; the walls were of hammered
stone, and high up on one, above a
great square pew, was carved and
painted figure holding out at arms
length the helmet, heraldic crest and
arms of n certain medieval knight, who,
in Chaucer's day, used to sit in this
corner pew; for four centuries a long
Latin inscription has borne testimony
to his virtues and prowess, while his
bones have lain in the crypt below.
Near some of the windows were vacant
inches which a shrine or water font of
old DAYS had filed. There were other
tombs of medieval date. some with
efligies; indeed, in this, as in most old
churches in Devonshire, the monuments
were quaint and interesting in the eN-
treme. In one the stone figure of a
warrior, n Templar, with legs crossed,
lly next to that of his wife, n prim
lady, closely coifed, whose name, ''of
beloved memory" was cut deep down
into the stone. From the church porch
one could see the whole stretch of sum-
mer landscape, varied with such diver
sity rs park, manor-house and hunting
fields could give; irregularly marked
by hedges, shaded here and there by
lofty Gins, shining where thread of
river pursued its way between level
meadows, and a struggling line of pop
lars rose like sentinels; the whole closed
in by the uplands, that shone in the
twilight with rich purple glow, clouds
rolling from their submits, curl of
gray mist floating away across the
country, giving n touch of autumn
soberness to the summer-tinted land.
Some primitive traditions still linger
about these old parish churches in the
moorland country. In one to which we
drove one day we found the parish
stocks still in their accustomed place in
the church porch. No one about there
had ever seen them occupied, but our
landlady told us that her grandfather
had often seen them in use in his young
days, "near hunderd year aGone." !"
They looked piteous implements of tor
! ture, but the old woman who showed us
about said she wished they were in use
to-day. Some of they idle village
boys 'ad best ave they feet stuck into
'em," she said, energe,ically, thinking
perhaps of her apple-trees. She took
US up into the old gallery by little
flight of steps from without, which had
formerly led into the vestry, and thence
we went into the muriment-room,
where the old parish records and church
registers were kept in heavily-paneled
and iron-bound chest, which looked as
if it might have been buried ten feet
deep during the Puritan ravages.
On sunshiny mornings or evenings
we used often to go into the old church,
and sit studying the monuments and
windows, and enjoying the calm and
| the iiickering shafts of sunlight on the
stained glass. Sometimes the organist
came to practice, and filed the old
church with harmonies, touching old
chords, and playing bits of music not
always heard in the prim Sunday serv-
| ices. The church-yard was a common
thoroughfare, yet it was usually silent,
the voices of children rising now and
then, and occasionally one heard tho
grave tones of n conversation between
! old men and women meeting on the
| ptlu- 1Hc Nei Oi'i uiCu ScCihcu par
ticularly fond OF sitting on the tombs in
the sunshine;, day after day we saw the
same patient old figures there, as though
they fain would grow to know and love
the earth which some day would lie
above them. One day a vault was
opened to receive the coffin of some
great lady, and quite little crowd ol
old people gathered about in the sunny
space above the steps, while the sexton
and his men worked, their conversation
being solemn and retrospective, but evi
IDENTIFY very enjoyable.
When Sunday came the church bells
rang out in the mellowest, sweetes
chimes. Three times day this wa,
renewed, and the whole purpose of tn,
village seemed to be church-going, in
terspersed with walks in the lanes oI
woods, or down by the most irrcsistibl,
little river and mill-stream, where on,
net dozens of artists, fishermen ant
lovers, on Sundays and weekdays alike
Mrs. John Lille, in Harpcr's Magazin
for June.