by Moyle Sherer
CHAP. XXI.
Dear beauteous death, the jewel of the just, Shining nowhere but in the dark: What mysteries do lie beyond thy dust, Could man outlook that mark! VAUGHAN.
The good old vicar of Cheddar, and the aged partner of his trials andhis consolations, survived the melancholy war which brought so muchpublic misery on the nation, and so much private affliction onthemselves, for many years. They continued to dwell in the same smallcottage, in which, after the ejectment of Noble, they found theirfirst refuge, unknowing and unknown. Their means were slender, buttheir wants were few; and they were rich in the graces of divinecontentment.
As with advancing years the strength necessary for manual labourdeclined, there came such little improvement of circumstances asenabled the worthy man to dispense with such exertion; and the toil ofPeter was lightened by the assistance of a younger labourer. Noblehimself walked regularly every Sunday of his life to attend divineservice at a small village church distant from his cottage about amile and a half; and old Peter and he sat together in the back seatsunder the gallery. His wife being feeble on her limbs, and dim ofsight, remained at home; and it was Noble's pleasure to bring back toher the text of the sermon and the matter of the discourse.
This church was served by a Puritan divine, who held a benefice fivemiles on the other side of it, and rode over to the hamlet for onefull service in the afternoon. The lord of the manor was a noblemanwho had been distinguished during the war; and who, after the close ofhostilities in Ireland and the establishment of the protectorate, hadretired to this mansion and estate, where he led a very secluded life,seldom stirring beyond his park wall. But he was a pious andcharitable man, well spoken of by his servants, and by the poor ofthe village as a Christian master and a considerate landlord.
There was something very fine and very affecting in the consideration,that an aged minister, ejected for conscience-sake, should sit everySabbath as a humble and loving Christian listener, under the ministryof one young enough to be his son, and to find in him a helper of hisjoy.
The young man knew not whom it was his privilege thus to strengthenand comfort; for there was a meekness and a shy reserve about Noble,and an enjoined silence to Peter, which repressed and baffledcuriosity. They just knew so much as that one was a deprivedclergyman; but whether he had been turned out for scandal, or what hisstory might be, none cared to discover more particularly;--he was anaccustomed sight.
It so chanced that, one Sunday, when the congregation was assembled atthe usual hour the young minister was not forthcoming. All persons hadtaken their seats. The lord of the manor was in his pew; and, after along pause, the singing was begun, in the expectation that perhaps hewould yet arrive time enough to conduct the worship; but the psalm wasconcluded, and he did not appear.
There was an evident disappointment on the countenances of all thepeople; and the grave nobleman, after leaning over his pew, andsummoning the clerk, decided to sit down again, and linger yet alittle time. Another psalm was given out and sung through,--still nominister arrived.
At last, moved by a constraining principle of love to the great andDivine shepherd of all Christian flocks, and by a pure love to thesouls of the people, Noble came forward with lowliness and composure,and told the clerk quietly that, being himself an ordained minister,he did not feel it right to let the people go empty away, withoutoffering in such manner as he could to feed them; and that if therewas no objection he was ready to go up into the pulpit. To thisarrangement there was an immediate assent from the nobleman, to whomthe clerk referred it; and old Noble, for the first time since theday when he was driven from Cheddar with blows and insults, foundhimself in the place and office of an ambassador for Christ.
He was manifestly supported in this moment by the spirit of power,love, and of a sound mind. His prayer was serious, simple, and plainas the utterance of a child. Out of the abundance of his heart heoffered up his petitions with reverent fervency and confiding love.The chapter which he selected for reading was the fourth chapter ofthe first Epistle of John; and, taking the tenth verse of this chapterfor his text, he declared fully and freely that blessed message ofpardon, reconciliation, and peace, which it is the most preciousprivilege of the Christian minister to deliver, and to deliver whichis a duty of sacred and perpetual obligation. Mercy and grace fellsoftly from his lips, and distilled like the gentle dew upon thehearts of all his hearers.
The poorest and least instructed could understand every thing he said;the most learned and advanced among them found a master in Israel,walking with a secure footing on the very summits of the mount ofGod. Unseen by Noble, the young minister entered, when he was in themiddle of his discourse, and stood with rapt, devout, and breathlessattention to its close. The rugged old warlike nobleman had earlyrisen, and leaned over his pew with eyes fixed upon the preacher, andhalf the congregation were in the like posture of attention. Of allthis Noble was utterly unconscious: his own gaze was perfectlyabstracted; he saw nothing, he thought of nothing but the Divine love.He magnified it; he set it forth in the chaste radiance and theheavenly light of Scripture language and Scripture imagery. Hecommended it to the hearts of all around him, by speaking of itexperimentally, gratefully. He showed what the world and society wouldbe if subjected to its influence: drew the mournful contrast dailypresented to the eye; and, towards the close, he drew aside, as itwere, the curtains of the skies, and displayed the world of light, andthe redeemed of the Lord walking, as angels, in an air of glory. Whenhe had concluded, he kneeled down to pray: his few first words,though not quite so loud as his sermon, which had been preached invery subdued and quiet tones, were distinctly audible; but, then, theybecame faint and unintelligible, his grey head bowed down upon hispale hands, and both rested without motion upon the dark cushion ofthe pulpit.
The young minister was the first to perceive his condition, and thefirst to run to his succour. With the aid of Peter, he brought himdown and out into the summer air, and laid him on the grass, andloosened his vest; but the body itself was no longer any thing but aput-off garment:--the spirit was far off, breathing already the air ofthat Eden which is above.
The young minister accompanied Peter back to the cottage with theprecious remains, and, leaving them at a few yards' distance, enteredfirst, and broke the loss to his aged partner. She felt it deeply: butas all the circumstances attending it were truly and tenderly related,the grief of the woman yielded to the faith of the Christian; and,while tears rolled down her withered cheeks, she was enabled to blessand praise her God.
From that day, to the hour of her death, that youthful minister tookher to his own home, and was to her as a son.
The very same day which witnessed the sudden and solemn removal of thegood old vicar of Cheddar brought a summons to his base andhypocritical successor in that vicarage. As the crafty and bitterbigot was crossing his yard with a more hasty step than usual, hisfoot tripped against the edge of the BROKEN FONT, which he had put inthe ground near his ash-heap, to hold water for his fowls. He fell tothe ground with such violence as to produce a compound fracture of histhigh; and, after the lingering torments of a very long confinement,died in the greatest agony of body, and in hopeless terror of mind.
While this unhappy wretch lay upon his bed, in the first week afterhis accident, the body of Noble was brought to Cheddar for intermentby the young Puritan divine, of whom we have spoken in the foregoingpart of the chapter. The whole village poured forth to meet the body:the large hearted young minister performed the funeral service; and,indifferent to what the rigid party might say or think, he read overthe grave of the departed vicar that solemn and sweet office for theburial of the dead which was, in those days, a forbidden charity tomen who had suffered cheerfully the loss of all things rather thangive up the sacred ritual of their church, or take the covenant whichthe faction in authority would have tyrannically imposed upon theirconscience. The dropping of a leaf might have been heard in the greenchurchyard as that servic
e was read; and a crowd stood listening withbare heads and serious eyes. When the last rite was done, and theearth was filled into the grave, fresh and verdant sods, which hadbeen most carefully cut in a neighbouring paddock, were placed over itorderly and firm, and these again were so thickly strewn over with thechoicest summer flowers as to be almost concealed by the profusion,while a fragrant and grateful incense, more pleasant than "preciousointment poured out," filled all the place with a sweet promise, thatthe name of the righteous should live.
THE END.
LONDON: Printed by A. SPOTTISWOODE, New-Street-Square.
