Scenes in Switzerland by American Tract Society


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Page 16

An hour afterwards the street was full of eager faces, all going to
the house of God, quiet and calm, but still cheerful and happy,
stopping to interchange greetings with each other, above all glad of a
welcoming look and smile from the pastor. I soon saw wherein was the
charm; sympathizing and kindly affectioned toward his people the
pastor interested himself in the little history of each, neglecting no
one, and especially attentive to the poor and feeble aged ones of his
flock. All loved him as a pastor, and by reason of this he persuaded
them the more easily.

The church was a quaint structure, half gothic, and half of a
nondescript architecture peculiar to itself. Leaving the vestibule we
entered at once the main audience-room, large, and sufficiently
commodious, but somewhat dark and gloomy. The pulpit was high, and
looked like an upright octagonal vase perched on a square pedestal.
This was unoccupied at present, the people taking their seats, and
forming as I saw at once into two distinct classes. In a few words the
pastor explained why it was thus, and then offering a prayer in which
all joined he proceeded to give me one of the classes, while he began
to question the others.

It was a novel group, the women in black skirts, with square boddices,
surmounted by white kerchiefs, with long flowing sleeves of white. But
the head had the strangest appearance. The more elderly women wore a
black cap, from the edge of which depended a trimming rising
perpendicularly from the cap from four to eight inches and gave to the
head the appearance of wings. Strange as it at first seemed, I soon
forgot all but their eager, animated attention. The theme was the love
of God in giving his only Son to be the propitiation for our sins.
Very evidently, it was no stranger of whom we were speaking. Not
satisfied with a mere bearing of his name, they knew and loved him.
His divine arm had been reached down to them. Charmed with his sweet
countenance, and won by his gentle, loving words, "Come unto me,"
they came with the trust and confidence of little children,
acknowledging their sin, but taking him at his word, "I, even I am he
that blotteth out thy transgressions, for my own sake, and will not
remember thy sins." It was sweet to talk of him, this Saviour, who had
done so much for them; and before I was aware the tears were running
down my own cheeks, and my words were broken and fragmentary. In the
meantime other worshippers came in. The hour for this kind of
instruction was over. The pastor availed himself of a moment's
respite, and the next was seen ascending the pulpit stairs. Maude was
seated among the singers, and the morning services commenced.

I had never heard my friend deliver a formal discourse, but I knew it
mattered little to him whether his message was given to few or
many--love for Christ, and earnestness to save souls was the
all-absorbing passion of his heart. It was only a continuation of what
he had been saying, the sweetly touching story of Christ's love told
simply, and still with the earnest, truthful spirit of one who knew by
blessed experience the reality of what he was saying. Standing in his
place and holding up the cross, for the moment it seemed that we could
see Him, the Divine Son, hanging, bleeding, dying that sinners like us
might be redeemed, saved, reinstated. What love! What tenderness! Is
it any wonder that we wept? Not a dry eye was in the house. Those
hardy peasants, with little intellectual culture, had hearts to love,
hearts that could understand and appreciate in some feeble manner the
promise of pardon and peace through a crucified Redeemer.

It was an hour well spent. Never have I felt nearer the divine
presence, nor more of the joy, the rest that springs from intimate
communion with the blessed Saviour. How strange the revulsion of
feeling in a few moments of time. I had looked with a little of
pleasantry upon the quaint figures and novel costumes of the
worshippers; now, I saw only the earnest attitude, the anxious gaze,
the loving look. Jesus was all in all, and their love for him
beautified their faces.

As we went home many kindly words were interchanged, the pastor
seeking out the elderly feeble ones, and Maude speaking with the
mothers, and patting the heads of little children, while I found my
way to a group of youths, to deepen if possible the impression of the
morning.

After dinner there was a repetition of the Bible-class, though now
they met at the pastor's house. As it was warm and pleasant we seated
ourselves in the garden, dividing into three groups. This class was
entirely different from the one of the morning, being made up of
those, many of them mothers, who could not leave their children to go
out earlier; and with some, this service was the principal one of the
day. The attention was quite as good, and the manner the same. It was
a pleasure to teach, and the sun was throwing his last red beams on
the hillside as the last one left the garden. It had been a long day,
but we felt repaid.

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Wed 5th Mar 2025, 4:31