THE OLD SCOTTISH MINISTER.

A man he was of Scottish race,

And ancient Scottish name;

Of common mould, but lofty mien,

That dignified his frame.

And he lived a humble, quiet life,

Obscure, unknown to fame;

God's glory and the good of man

His constant, only aim:

Like a fine old Scottish minister,

All of the olden time.

He dearly loved his gentle wife,

As everyone could tell;

And watched his children as they grew,

Lest any ill befell;

And as he looked upon his boys

His bosom oft would swell;

For he reared them in the fear of God,

And ruled his household well:

Like a true old Scottish minister,

All of the olden time.

A father, too, he was to all

His congregation there:

To all he felt a father's love,

And showed a father's care:

He wisely counselled them with speech,

And pled for them in prayer;

And ever for the needy ones

He something had to spare:

Like a kind old Scottish minister,

All of the olden time.

The servant of the Lord he was,

In hovel and in hall,—

The high ambassador of heaven

Whom earth could not enthrall;

Like Christ among the wedding guests,

Or by the funeral pall;

And he made his daily life sublime,

A pattern unto all:

Like a grand old Scottish minister,

All of the olden time.

For truth and righteousness and love

His voice was ever heard;

And minds were kindled into thought,

And consciences were stirred,

And weary, heavy-laden hearts

To faith and hope were spurred,

As from the pulpit he proclaimed

The everlasting Word:

Like a faithful Scottish minister,

All of the olden time.

And when, amid his elders grave,

Extended in a line

Beside the table of the Lord,

He kept the rite divine,

His face with a rapt, unearthly look

Was seen to strangely shine,

As he broke the white, symbolic bread,

And passed the sacred wine:

Like a saintly Scottish minister,

All of the olden time.

His lot was hard, his task severe;

He found the burden light:

When darkly o'er his pathway hung

The shadows of the night,

His heart was steadfast, for he walked

By faith, and not by sight;

And ran triumphantly his course,

And fought a goodly fight:

Like a brave old Scottish minister,

All of the olden time.

And when upon a summer's day

He laid him down to die,

He called his household to his side

Without a moan or sigh,

And blessed his children each in turn,

And said a fond good-bye,

And then consigned his soul to God,

And went to live on high:

Like a good old Scottish minister,

All of the olden time.