THE CHURCH-YARD AND PASTOR'S GRAVE. 39 Regiment during our revolutionary struggle. Many of your readers may recollect the ancient and venerable man as he appeared at the laying of the corner-stone of the Bunker-Hill Monument, when he stood up in the presence of an assembled host and offered a simple, fervent, and patriotic prayer. But to return to the Church. It was built in 1768. The style of architecture to frame a new order is Quaker. It is situated a little out of the village and is the first object, when approaching it, that attracts attention. It is of large dimensions and without a steeple. No part is painted but the roof, which is of brick color. Of course with its broad paintless sides, relieved only by its reddish roof, it has a somewhat grave and sombre aspect. This specimen of antiquity rears its venerable form in the centre of an oblong enclosure of considerable extent, all of which with the exception of a path from the gate to the Church-door is occupied with graves, headstones, and monuments of various forms, dimensions and appearance. Many are of the purest and most brilliantly white marble, whose letters are engraved so distinctly and perfectly that, it would seem, they must defy the effacing finger of time. These impart to this dwelling-place of the dead a cheerful rather than a gloomy aspect. The veneracle Pastor of the Town reposes in the rear of the Church just beneath the window of that pulpit in which he served his Maker for such a succession of years. A weeping-willow waves gracefully over a 40 THE SANCTITY OF THE PLACE. marble monument erected to his memory by his children. At one extremity of the enclosure is a straw-colored hearse-house-neat and appropriate -recently built by a benevolent widow, daughter of the departed worthy Pastor. This spot is the object of sacred affections of many sad as well as sweet remembrances to her soul. Not a broken pane of glass, nor a loose stone in the foundation of the old Church escapes her eye. It is never suffered to go to decay, and its hallowed precincts though seldom trod, (for there has been no regular preaching for the past nine years) are swept by her own hands some three times every twelvemonth and preserved sweet and clean. The strength and sanctity of the associations which many an aged man and aged woman cherish towards this consecrated place, to which from early years on the Sabbath day they have gone up to worship the Most High, it is not for a stranger fully to comprehend. Still no one, however insensible, can approach this ancient pile and this city of the dead built up around it, where in a long line of generations the rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep,' without the deepest feelings of solemnity and veneration. The interior of the Church accords well with the exterior. All is simple and plain in the taste of the Puritans. The front of the galleries and pulpit, with the sounding-board above, and the Deacons' seats below, are painted light blue. There is nought else but what wears its natural color. A neat green FOURTH OF JULY 41 curtain and a cushion of the like material adorn the Pulpit. The first Sabbath I entered the Church it was highly decorated with fir, spruce, and other ever-greens, reminding one of the tabernacles of old in the wilderness. The following day was the Anniversary of our national independence; and in thi place, on this sea-girt Island, it was to be celebrated. I was invited to participate not only in the dinner but in the other services, and to make my appearance on Monday morning at the Inn, there to meet the chief ones of the village and to join the procession. One or two revolutionary patriots - revered wrecks of tempestuous times were there. The affecting narrative which one of them gave of his sufferings and those of his comrades from hunger, thirst, chronic pains and rheumatisms, brought on by lying night after night on the cold ground without covering, caused many a tear to trickle down his weather-hardened and wrinkled cheek, and deeply moyed the hearts of all preseut. He assured us we had no conception of the greatness of our blessings, and urged us with thrilling eloquence to be true to our country. The procession was shortly formed. The delegation from the place, the two school-masters, and the four members of the clergy walked in its honored places, while two individuals bearing staffs on which floated our national banner led the way. We threaded several sandy streets beneath a sweltering suna solemn, pre-eminently noiseless. train without stirring fife or pealing drum.' Still 42 AT EDGARTOWN. there was a music within, and our souls were pledged to do our best to celebrate our country's glory, yes, literally pledged — full six of us — the Senator - - of Duke's County to pronounce the oration-the School-masters, one to repeat the Declaration of Independence, the other to enliven us with the effervescence of his poetical fancy- the oldest of the Clergy, who was a Baptist Missionary, to address the throne of the Almighty - the Trinitarian and Unitarian Ministers to perform an equal part, each to peruse in the best manner an original Hymn, and though last, not least, our Methodist brother to put the finale to the chapter of services and ceremories by the solemn benediction. art. This sub-division of labor was as it should be but it had a little touch of the amusing about it. We entered the church and took our seats amid the beauty, pride and patriotism of this simple, true-hearted people. All passed off cheeringly. The Oration was worthy of its author, and the Poem would have done credit to a practised and well-known hand at the This part of our duty done, we repaired to the Inn to partake of a generous dinner. Not a few merry toasts were cracked and, though wine passed round, many abstained, and all rose from the table self possessed and undeceived thereby. A happier Independent day, not even in my boyhood, has it been my lot to enjoy. Of itself it was worth a trip to the Island. Perhaps a few extracts from the Poem may be interesting to your readers : THE POEM. "FOREVER Consecrated be the day, When freemen rose, and with heroic sway, He led our Joshua through the tented field, There honored fame shall meet her just applause, There patriot sons repel pernicious laws; * * * * * -- Columbia, pause! weep o'er th' illustrious dead! 43 |