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MacDonald, George, 1824-1905

"The Seaboard Parish Volume 1"

Each pillar was a single stone with
chamfered sides.
Walking softly through the ancient house, forgetting in the many thoughts
that arose within me that I had a companion, I came at length into the
tower, the basement of which was open, forming part of the body of the
church. There hung many ropes through holes in a ceiling above, for
bell-ringing was encouraged and indeed practised by my friend Shepherd. And
as I regarded them, I thought within myself how delightful it would be if
in these days as in those of Samuel, the word of God was precious; so that
when it came to the minister of his people--a fresh vision of his glory, a
discovery of his meaning--he might make haste to the church, and into the
tower, lay hold of the rope that hung from the deepest-toned bell of all,
and constrain it by the force of strong arms to utter its voice of call,
"Come hither, come hear, my people, for God hath spoken;" and from the
streets or the lanes would troop the eager folk; the plough be left in the
furrow, the cream in the churn; and the crowding people bring faces into
the church, all with one question upon them--"What hath the Lord spoken?"
But now it would be answer sufficient to such a call to say, "But what will
become of the butter?" or, "An hour's ploughing will be lost.


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