Rutland Weekly Herald

Well, Sabbath morning we were in the pulpit, and felt a pleasing sensation as we saw these two traitorous brothers take seats in the family pew, in the corner at the left. Our text was: "And he did that which was right in the sight of the Lord." No matter what we said, our aim was to show it was right in the sight of the Lord to sustain the government in pulling down treason, and the people must do it, at any price. With barely an exception we had an intensely loyal congregation, and the people were enthusiastic. As we got warmed up in our subject, for it was a hot summer day, it grew too hot for comfort at our left, and before we got two-thirds through our discourse, up jumped the visiting brother, opened and slammed the pew door, down the aisle he indignantly stalked and out doors he went. He was just mad! The skedaddle in the enemy's camp was an inspiration to us—human perhaps, not heavenly—but it helped us. The moral shot and shell fell hotter and thicker around the tingling ears of the remaining sinner, till he in turn banged the pew door and retreated down the aisle and out of the house. He was just mad! The young people in the congregation of that country church were convulsed at that Sabbath scene, while the old folks looked—foolish. For closing piece the choir sang the hymn containing these words: "But shall believers tear?" "But shall believers fly?" and that choir, almost convulsed with laughter, sang like larks. The pulpit that day was the victor, the enemy was vanquished. When our copperhead neighbor cooled off he felt chagrined, for he had made an ass of himself, and when rallied by the boys about his being preached out by the parson, he said he was sick, he said he had the colic. Well when we saw that man get off the train, the first day of the late reunion, come down here to parade with the boys, out of pure patriotism, we mentally exclaimed, O tempora! O mores! and felt just like stepping up and asking him, ain't you afraid you'll have the colic? Now your readers may think the preaching of that Sabbath day was not very pious. Well it was patriotic—it was a military necessity.

Recollections of a Country Parson.