Page images
PDF
EPUB
[blocks in formation]

At a little distance we saw

"The lowing herd wind slowly o'er the lea," and had a remote, dreamy perception of music in the air, which recalled the line, “And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds;" while all around us, on stone and wood, with chisel and paint-brush, and in natural characters on grassy mounds which could not boast a stone, or even a piece of plank, were written

"The short and simple annals of the poor."

These graves, and their boards, and stones, and sod, in themselves contain the disjecta membra of the following stanzas the soul of the poet was needed, not to create, but to put them together:

"Yet ev'n these bones from insult to protect, Some frail memorial still erected nigh, With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture deck'd,

Implores the passing tribute of a sigh.

"Their name, their years, spelt by th' unletter'd

muse,

The place of fame and elegy supply; And many a holy text around she strews, That teach the rustic moralist to die."

We had not informed ourselves before starting in what part of the yard the poet was buried; and as we had no guide, we wandered about for some time, straining our sight to decipher the dimmest inscrip

tions on the oldest and most discolored stones, if haply we might find the right one, which by-and-by we did. We discovered a slab of sandstone in the wall of the church, on the outside, just under a window, bearing this inscription :—

"Opposite to this stone, in the same tomb in which he has so feelingly recorded his grief at the loss of a beloved parent, are deposited the remains of Thomas Gray, the author of 'The Elegy written in a Country Church-Yard.' He was buried here August 6, 1771."

Just in front of this stone, and only a few feet from it, is the tomb alluded to.

Gray's name is not on it, although it contains his dust, which was placed here, with those of his mother and aunt, by his own direction. The marble shows the two following inscriptions:

"In the vault beneath are deposited, in hope of a joyful resurrection, the remains of Mary Antrobus. She died unmarried, Nov., 1749, aged 66."

"In the same pious confidence, beside her friend and sister, here sleep the remains of Dorothy Gray, the careful, tender mother of many children, one of whom alone had the misfortune to survive her. She died March 11th, 1753, aged 67."

The poet himself was of course the surviving child, who, as the slab in the wall tells us, has so feelingly recorded his grief in the tombstone. We filled our pockets with memorials of the place, and took our leave. On our way out we found quite a stately monument, erected in honor of Gray, at the expense of a Mr. Penn. It stands in the field near the gate at which we entered, and is handsomely inclosed, the space in the inclosure being neatly laid off into walks and flower-beds, and filled with beautiful and well-cultivated flowers.

Thomas Gray was of humble origin, his mother being a milliner, and his father a money-scrivener; though what may be the duties of this last-named profession I am sure I cannot say; but if it meant Knight of Gold, which would be the highest distinction in this money-loving age, still he was of low birth, because his mother was a milliner, it being essential to the highest respectability to wear a fine bonnet, but not at all respectable to make And yet half the fine ladies and gentlemen have been made by the milliner and tailor, out of people who, but for their art, would have remained common. Through the exertions of his excellent

one.

whisky, in which to bathe the suffering members, and supposing it to be cheap as at home, I gave her twenty-five cents to pay for it. She returned without it, telling me that a pint of whisky would cost sixty cents. I did get a pint of gin for thirty-seven cents. And yet these miser

mother, Gray rose above the disadvantages of birth and fortune, and in spite of the churlishness and dastardly meanness of his father, secured a university education, and finally took his position in the front rank of the lyric poets of the world. This miserable father, influenced by jealousy, practiced upon his wife the most unheard-able people, so poor as hardly to be able of cruelties, beating her sometimes until she was black and blue. He tried to ruin her business, and even threatened to destroy his own, that she might suffer the heaviest calamity in being obliged to recall her son from the university. This inhuman conduct no doubt imbittered the life of his son, sinking deep into his sensitive heart, aggravating his constitutional melancholy, and greatly enfeebling his health. Gray never mentions his father; but he loved his mother with doting tenderness, and after her death could never hear her name without deep emotion. In his will he left the following direction as to the disposal of his body: "First, I do desire that my body may be deposited in the vault made by my late dear mother in the church-yard of Stoke Pogis, near Slough, Buckingham, in Buckinghamshire, by her remains, in a coffin of seasoned oak, neither lined nor covered, and (unless it be very inconvenient) I could wish that one of my executors may see me laid in the grave, and distribute among such honest and industrious persons in the said parish as he thinks fit the sum of ten pounds in charity."

to buy meat and bread enough to keep
soul and body together, must have these
strong liquors. As I stood at Smithfield,
looking about me, I saw two boys fight-
ing in a lot, a little off from the street,
and a police officer leaning against the
fence enjoying the sport. Advancing, I
touched his elbow, and he instantly com-
manded the peace, and the boys scamper-
ed. This being settled between us, I
asked him if he could direct me to some
of the most degraded portions of the city,
those most noted for wretchedness, filth
and crime, he answered in the affirma-
tive, stating that the very worst places were
near at hand, and offering to become my
conductor. I passed through Union-court,
Plumtree-court, Saffron-hill and Lily-st.,
a bouquet whose fragrance can never be
forgotten. These names are a practical
irony, intended to give, by contrast, addi-
tional pungency to the most offensive
smells. They remind one of the useful
and beautiful in nature-of delicate flowers
and delicious odors-of exquisite textures,
and charming shapes and colors, only to
fill the eye with the most disgusting sights,
the olfactories with steaming stench, and
the soul with loathing and horror. I feel
bound to protest, with all the energy of
my reason and taste, against such a mis-
appropriation of some of the best and
sweetest of names. Wordsworth, in his
poem of Peter Bell, says of his villainous
hero-

"A primrose by a river's brim,
A yellow primrose was to him,
And it was nothing more."

On Sabbath afternoon I started for church, taking some of the worst parts of London in my way, that I might see how they looked in their Sunday clothes. When I reached Smithfield, formerly the place of public execution, and enriched with the blood of some of the noblest martyrs, but now the great cattle-market of the city, I stopped to look about me. This is a great place for gin palaces. I stood here one evening when the shop windows were all a-blaze with gas, and counted, without moving, about a dozen of these dens. The dawn of the Sabbath had made no change; there were the "pal-manent emblem of the wretched street aces" still open, and more crowded, both that bears its name. with men and women, than on any other day of the week. All distilled liquors sell at enormous prices in England. I remember once, when I had stiffened my sinews and made my feet very sore by walking, I sent the maid to get a pint of common

I am afraid it will be worse with me than even this: a lily will not be a lily, nor a plum a plum; and as to saffron, I fear it will become to my mind the per

Union-court is about six or eight feet wide, with houses or rather kennels on each side, the abodes of men, women and children, though not fit for dogs. These people looked at us as though they thought I had brought the policeman for the pur

pose of ferreting out a thief and recovering stolen goods. They presented, for the most part, the appearance of selfmoving bundles of rags, principally corduroy, with caps and wretched human countenances at the upper end. Among this ragamuffin crew there was a decentlyclad young woman, rather pretty, about twenty years old, with a fine healthy-looking child in her arms, seeming as happy in this sty, among her degraded companions, as though she had been in a palace. I would not have gone through this court alone for untold wealth; I might have been lassoed and dragged into one of the kennels and dispatched in a moment, before I could have let the world know anything about what was going on.

Plumtree-court, Saffron-hill, and Lilystreet, were nearly as filthy as the place we have just described, but not so narrow, and as a matter of course containing more daylight. I walked through the two latter unattended. The shops were open: within, they were offering for sale shoes and old clothes; and without, with usual cries, plums, strawberries, onions, and the almost ubiquitous gooseberry. I confess that for a moment I almost doubted the respectability of my personal appearance when the dealers in old clothes saluted me with invitations to buy,-I did not know but that I might have come suddenly out at the elbows. Just in the center of Saffron-hill the government has built a handsome Gothic church, and hung out a sign, inviting the people of the neighborhood to come and have seats for nothing. I was very anxious to see what sort of a congregation would be at church in such a locality, but I could not wait.

I omitted to say that when the policeman was conducting me out of the last court, and just before leaving me in Holborn, he remarked, "If we meet my superintendent of police, and he asks me where I have been, you must tell him that a boy picked your pocket, and ran up into this court, and that you took me with you to get back your property." I made no an

[blocks in formation]

[For the National Magazine.]

THE MODEL PASTOR.

A SKETCH FOR A CANDIDATE, FROM THE PORTFOLIO OF A SUPERANNUATED PREACHER.

OU desire me to describe the ministry

YOU

demanded by these times. This is no easy task for one who has never possessed much skill in delineating character, and, especially, as the subject to be sketched is a personage whom I have never seen, if indeed he is now living. A painful contrast between the limner and the picture is also a source of embarrassment; and in addressing myself to the work, I feel very much as a certain rustic preacher expressed himself, who, like the Great Teacher, entered the ministry, not from a university, but a carpenter's shop. On an important occasion, when about to preach a searching sermon, he said, "Brethren, I must hew to the gospel line, even if the fragments fly into my own face."

Without further preliminaries, I proceed to remark that the minister for these days, of course, is a man of undoubted and ardent piety. By this expression I mean, not merely that he is a man of amiable disposition, exemplary deportment, and unquestionable integrity, but of extraordinary devotion, that is, above the average tone of piety among the laity, and strongly resembling, if not fully equal to, that of the apostles. Firmly believing that it is the privilege of Christian ministers to attain as high degree of holiness as was enjoyed in the primitive Church, and that the times demand as complete consecration to God, he is satisfied with no standard of inward purity and practical zeal lower than that to which those holy men aspired; and thus, fixing his eyes upon these illustrious models, he presses onward in the pursuit of the same glorious mark.

There is a beautiful symmetry in the religious character of the subject of my sketch. His religion is not all theory, nor all emotion, nor all activity; but he attends equally to the head-work, heartwork, and hand-work of Christian obligation.

He does not cultivate religious knowledge at the expense of heavenly charity, nor fervent zeal to the neglect of childlike humility; but while he aspires after the perfect love of John, and the chastened zeal of Peter, he cherishes the lowliness of Paul, who, though styled the

great apostle by others, esteemed himself as the least of saints. Accordingly, he neither voluntarily conceals, nor ostentatiously displays the grace of God bestowed upon him. He does not make his light shine, but lets it shine, because its nature is to shine, and to hide it under a bushel would be to defeat the object for which it was kindled. He lets it shine, however, not only in the utterance of good words, but in the exhibition also of good works; not by fitful impulses, like the flickering meteor, but in a steady, clear, burning flame, like the sun in the orient, which "shines more and more unto the perfect day." He does not often speak of himself; but when he does refer to his religious attainments or personal conflicts, he does it in such a manner that the most prejudiced hearer is convinced that his words are the legitimate offspring, not of spiritual pride, but of the constraining love of Christ.

While analyzing the elements of the moral character of the preacher for these times, his simplicity deserves special observation. By simplicity I do not mean merely, that as a religious teacher he successfully aims to adapt his public and private ministrations to the capacity of the illiterate as well as the learned, the child as well as the sage, and in imitation of Christ while addressing "common people," avails himself of common illustrations familiar to the masses, however offensive to the ear of the fastidious sentimentalist, who prefers elegant obscurity to unadorned truth. True, I mean this, but I mean more. I mean that there is not only a transparency about his preaching, by which his sermons are clearly comprehended, but that there is also a transparency about himself, so to speak, by which he is known and read of all men as an

Israelite indeed, in whom there is no guile." There is such an openness, frankness, and artlessness about all his movements, such a freedom in communieating himself and unvailing his own heart, as well as scanning the hearts of others, that, while enjoying intercourse with him, there is not the slightest room for the idea to insinuate itself in one's mind, that intrigue or ulterior design has any place in his heart, or that he in the least suspects us of selfish or unworthy aims.

The next noticeable feature in the minister for these times is his studious habit.

I do not assert that he is an educated man, for this is a very vague term, sometimes implying an extensive knowledge of mere books, and sometimes referring not so much to the actual acquirements, as to the place where his knowledge is acquired. Indeed, he makes no pretension of having finished his education, for he expects never to complete it, but to spend eternity in adding to his intellectual and moral acquisitions.

Knowing, however, that the present is an age when it may with peculiar emphasis be said that "many run to and fro, and knowledge is increased,"—a prolific age of literature, bold investigation, free inquiry, and skepticism, when men with strange recklessness are combatting antiquated notions because they are old, and eagerly seeking new inventions, not only in the arts and sciences, but even in religion-he feels it specially incumbent upon him as a faithful watchman discerning the signs of the times, to "contend earnestly for the faith once delivered to the saints;" and hence finds it absolutely necessary, not merely to keep even pace with, but a respectful distance in advance of the current intelligence of the age.

It is true, in view of the brevity of life, and the vast treasures of knowledge now open for the inquiring mind, he sees it needful to hold his curiosity somewhat in check, and keeping his sacred commission in mind, he devotes his studious hours chiefly to exploring those fields of knowledge by which he can make the "fullest proof of his ministry."

With his eye ever upon this object, it may with propriety be said he is a constant student; a student everywhere; not only in his library, but his closet-in the pulpit, the parlor, and the street. Whereever he goes, he sees abundant materials for thought; he finds

[ocr errors][merged small]

when an unexpected and important public emergency drives him into his study, he is able to effect more there in a few hours, perhaps, than others of far greater native mental strength, but of different habits, can accomplish in as many days.

Again, the pastor for our times is a man of large and comprehensive views. He is not like the "one idea" men, whose creed is composed of but one article, and who can see only one side of a question; whose vision is confined within the narrow inclosures of one sect, or, if they venture to look further, can descry nothing but dangerous heresy or moral obliquity; whose reading is limited to one class of books, and who are incapable of comprehending or adapting themselves to more than one class of men, namely, those whose ideas are compressible into the same nut-shell as their own but he has so disciplined his mental eye, that while in its far-seeing and admiring gaze it can comprehend whatever is lovely or of good report in the wide world of mind and matter in general within the range of finite ken; at the same time, with microscopic acumen, it can examine and classify the minutest object in particular, thus giving to each subject claiming his attention, its appropriate portion of consideration. His heart is as large as his vision is expansive; but while he has no fellowship with hoary bigotry, but recognizes a Christian brother who bears the image and exemplifies the spirit of Christ, whether he can or cannot pronounce the Shibboleth of his party, he is equally at loggerheads with precocious latitudinarianism, having little sympathy with those modern pseudo-reformers, who seek an antidote for the ills of society either by a total disorganization, or universal amalgamation of the different departments of the visible Church.

In connection with his liberal views, his moral firmness should be mentioned. Some suppose that in these quiet days of religious toleration, when a Christian profession is so fashionable, there is no great demand for decision of character even in an embassador of Christ. This is a great error. Our great adversary, so far from being dead or even asleep, is no less malignant in spirit, and vigilant in action, than in the sad days when he instigated his servants boldly to open their fiery batteries upon the Church. As he has only changed his mode of warfare, to adapt it

[ocr errors]

to these more enlightened and temporizing times, no less moral firmness is requisite to resist his seductive flatteries, by which, on the enchanted plains of Ono, he courts a matrimonial alliance between the disciples of Jesus and the votaries of mammon, than in the eventful period when he sought the extirpation of vital Christianity by violence.

Another invaluable possession of the model pastor is common sense. Though there are some, perhaps, who tower above him in the splendor of their talents and profoundness of their learning, he is able to exert a wider influence and accomplish far more than they, by having a superior intellectual balance-wheel, by which his resources are more available, and for which he is indebted not so much to native gift, as to a judicious application of his mind to practical subjects, and the study of human nature by intercourse with practical men. In no age of the world has common sense been in greater demand than it is at present. Indeed, what avails rhetorical sense, and logical sense, and theological sense, or even spiritual, and every other kind of sense, without common sense? It is by the possession of this indispensable regulator, that the subject of my sketch is, by divine grace, enabled in his Biblical researches to avoid those whimsical, if not contradictory and absurd interpretations of Scripture which too often characterize the learned expositions of the present day. By this, amid the multitudinous reformatory movements, so called, each of which is clamorously demanding his special, if not exclusive patronage, as "the great enterprise of the day," he is enabled so to discriminate between the genuine and spurious organizations, as to be capable without hesitation of showing which are entitled to public regard as measures of real utility, and which should be branded as the offspring of imposition and fanaticism in these spirit-stirring times. By this element of mental character he intuitively understands what estimate to place upon the fulsome flatteries of his professed friends and the bitter vituperations of his enemies. By this, he steers in the happy medium between that species of prudence which is only another name for cowardice or indolence, and that fiery, self-consuming zeal which is not according to knowledge. And thus, also, he is able to make a ju

« ՆախորդըՇարունակել »