The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1886-07-31


the Continental army was encamped in
this vicinity. at the best it was
poor place, and seems to-day pitiable
shelter for such a one as he. 1t is
rapidly falling to decay, and must be
shaky affair on a windy night for the
Hibernian family who inhabit it. /
went into the room used by the Father
of his country, and looked out upon the
scene that used to NEE: his eyes,
where stood the "old Continentals IN
their ragged regimentals, I" ready to sa-
Lutte their commander as he rode down
the line, and can imagine their faces
| lighting up with love and devotion, as
they gazednpon that face, the s'rainbow
of a stormy race" Opposite the old
house stands the church in which Wash
ington and his officers worshfped. As
a building 1t has no merit, being built
of rough, irregular stone; it is also un-
couth in aspect, but one with any spirit
of '76 must venerate this pile, and an
antiquarian might even see the pic
turesque in its ugliness.
Entering I discovered the pastor.
another piece of antiquity, with whom
I chatted concerning the history of the
church. He was bigoted, and would
acknowledge none other than the 'es-
tablished," but 1 refrained my argu-
mentativeness, and was soon being
entertained by him with old Revolu-
tionary lore. He told me that the
church had been occupied by British
and Continental troops alternately,
now used as hospital by the one, then
as place of worship by the other. 1t
was the scene of a hot skirmish. He
showed me an old Bible, a book of COM
mon prayer, and a communion service
which had been buried underneath the
church. In the vestry-room hung man.
uscript sermons, records Of the sittings
of the court, held in the church, sub
pena, with Aaron Burr as counsel, anC
subscription list, signed by the sur
rounding gentry.
Craving more food for my appetite
antiquarian / vent out into the church
yard where each in his narrow cell for
ever laid, "the rude forefathers of th'
hamlet Sleep" Here 1 wandered abou
among the graves, reading inscription
sacred to the dead of the last century
now and then pausing to part the grass O.
scrape away the moss from some ole
crumbling headstone, in the endeavol
to decipher the words which the tenn
pests of so many years had well nigf
effaced, and after much labor, having
succeeded, sighed for the mallet anC
chisel of that old character of Scott's
to restore the time worn letters to pos
terity. I found many quaint epitaphs
bearing old dates, and of course, there
was the omnipresent cherubim. came
across a forcible reminder that the
"boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,
and the path of glory leads but to the
grave" 1t was large stone, sacred to
the memory of an officer, on which an
elaborate coat of arms was sculptured.
Continuing in my walk, 1 came across
an old stone, but one to which time had
been more merciful. Stopping before
it, | read that it had been erected by
loving parents, to the memory of their
only child Catherine, aged Il. The
sight of young girls grave, never a
cheering one, was especially sad and
incongruous, among so many decayed
emblems of mortality, that it recalled
me to the present, for l had been, in
spirit, wandering in the dim and dusty
corridors of the past" and pityingly
turned to depart, when noticed poem
engraved on the base, of which the last
words were these:
"Come at the close of some bright sunny day,
Come when the sun sheds its last lingering ray,
Come and rejoice that l thus passed away,
When am gone.'
And so this young life had passed
away, as this, another day, was passing
away, for looking up, 1 saw the sun just
sinking below the horizon, transfgur-
ing everything with its light, not scorn-
ing the humble grave before me, which
it touched with "its last lingering ray"
like blessing, mute acknowledgment
of the child's simple faith.
Or DR.. Schaff's "Christ and Chris