Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1907-03-01

|
lage church and spire, are still In the
daily use of a populous neighborhood
| 1t Is destined, however, to an early
change: and the picture Of 1t that we
show you now, will soon be obliterated
leaving few vestiges Of what we may
| at this moment behold. The time VIII
come, and very shortly, when this ven
erable shrine will be in ruins, when
yon old tower will be dismantled and
overthrown, and when these silent
graves and solid tombs will all disap-
pear, levelled with the sands, or swal-
lowed up in the vast weeds and dense
growth Of new and unconscious Tor
est. Fifty years hence, behold the
prospect We leave the great thor.
oughfare, and the woods girdle us
thickly. The very streets of the viii
lage, the scene of so many events, SO
mirthful and so excited once, are over
grown with triumphant pines and ce-
dars. They crowd fitly here, among
the shrines of death, as trophies OF
that sleepless conqueror. They shroud
from light, and thus shrouding, seem
to hallow and sanctify the spot. You
shall pursue your quest, and seek OUT
the few memorials which remain, with
out dread of the thoughtless jeer OF
the vulgar, or the heartless laugh OF
disturbs not often this sacred neigh
borhood. The spot has no attractions
for the hurrying crowd. Here nature
has thrown up no heights Of grandeur.
Here she descends in no glorious tor
rents. The place is a simple plain
overrun with a tangled forest growth,
showing for ruin only, or savage un-
tutored nature. The whole region, 10
the ordinary mood, Is unfnViting ana
desolate enough. Desolating 1t Is, but
to us who know its history, 1t Is not
wholly uninviting. We shall recall
many sweet sad histories in this silent
ramble. We shall gather something
for thought from these mansions OF
decay; and Death, bearing the torcn
for life, shall show us his most secret
places and teach us his most solemn
truths.
One reflection commonly occurs TO
us in the survey Of the fabrics Of an
cient, times while we feel the con-
trast with our own performances,
which is forced upon us by the survey.
How much more solid than ours, seem
to have been the tastes of our ances-
tors! How earnest did they appear In
all their labors! They seem to have
built rather for their children than
themselves. Now, alas! who Is 1t that
plants or builds for other generations
than his own? How sad this refiec-
ton, how full Of omen, when we re-
gard this change as significant OF a
change in character-as expressive OF
a decay Of moral purpose, and, ac-
cordingly, of moral power. In other
words, they seem to have contemplat-
ed uses. Our object Is appearances.
How nobler, how far less selfish, were
their tastes and objects! They hon.
ored death, while rearing such vaults
as these. How thick and huge, cum
brous perhaps, but time-defying. Is
1t a nobler sentiment, a more Chris
tian humility that prompts us, now-a-
days, in orr forest country. simply 10
put our dAad away from our sight,
and so leSSe. the unprotected hillock
which coveSSSthe sacred remains. that
the rains ofANapgle year shall oblit-
crate all earh. traces of the being
that we professed to love? We err In
deeming 1t an idle vanity to bestow
care and pains and art and beauty on
a human monument, set up In the do
mains Of death. Love and veneration
delight in such tributes, and are 1usti-
fed by all the affections, and all the
charities, and all the humanities OF
life. Indeed, there is powerful NOR
al to be adduced from the survey OF
the noble monument. How Impress
i've is the lesson that teaches us that
all the worth, and valour, and noble
ness of the being whom we thus hon
or were yet unavailing to afford secu-
rity against the inexorable Fate. The
thick and massive tomb seems also
we'll conceived to illustrate those i'm
passable barriers which shut out the
living man entirely from him who has
already shaken off the coil Of mortali-
ty. We stand before the tomb gazing
vainly into the blank region OF anoth-
er world which we are soon to enter.
And when the vault Is rent asunder,
as in the one now before us, and we
see nothing, may we not infer the as
cent upward OF the triumphant spir-
It, throwing aside all the idle re-
straints, even of the affection that
would keep 1t for ever to itself, and
rising, on the transparent wings OF an
eternal morning, to the fair and WOO
ing mansions Of eternal bliss?
And there is the old church, like
a thoughtful matron. sitting In quiet
contemplation among her children.
Their graves are all around her; but
she, deserted by those she taught and
cherished, without even the tongue 10
deplore them-dumb, as 1t were, with
her excess Of woe-she still sits, a
monument like themselves not only OF
their worship, but Of the faith she
taught. 1t is a graceful ruin, that Will
awaken all your veneration. II the
gnawing cares of gain, and the world
baser collision, have not kept II too
long inactive. 1t stands up, like some
old warrior, gray with many winters,
Scared and buffeted with conflicting
storms and strifes, but still upright
still erect The high altar, the sacred
ornaments, the rich pews, like the
people who honored and occupied
them, are torn away and gone. Decay
and rude hands have dealt with them,
as death has dealt with the worship
pers. The walls and roof are but lit
tle hurt. The tower has been stricken
and shattered, but still more hallow-
ed by the lightning which has done
it, Some white owls are in quiet pos
session Of it. but as they are innocent,
and seem in venerable keeping with
the place, the gentle spirit will hold
them sacred from harm; and may no
profane hand drive them away.
Here, to the right Of the church. Is
a goodly cluster Of tombs. fringed IN
thickly by the pine and cedar. The
cattle stray here at MONDAY for the
shady quiet. not less than for the rank
grass which the spot affords. They
Rude hands, in some cases have torn
away and broken up, in sinful wan
tonness the thick marble slabs which
covered the vaults and recorded the
history of their indwellers. This was
double wrong-a wrong to those
of whom they told, and not less a
wrong to those who read, and who
might have won useful knowledge
from a lesson at the grave. Here
now, Is the bone Of an arm-a slender
bone-perhaps that Of a woman. IL
lies before us, unconscious Of its ex-
posure. We shall disturb 1t no fur
ther-enough, II what we have seen
shall have the effect of persuadfng US
to regard with less complacency the
vigor. and the power, and the beauty
of our own. Pass on.
Here we may muse for hours, and
our thoughts shall be as various as
the records we have about us. Some
of these tombs belong to history. Here
lies one Of a man who was killed and
scalped at Goose Creek, in the war OF
the Yemassees. when those brave saw
ages came down in 1715. This stone
| tells us of another who died at EutaW
in the Revolution, and who was
brought here for burial, at his own re-
quest The spot was sacred even then
You, who can find sermons in stones
and pOOd in every thing" shall be al