SABBATH IN THE COUNTRY
MRS.SIGOURNEY is distinguished for the high character，intellectual，moral，and religious，of her numerous productions in prose and poetry.She Lived in Hartford，Conn.
1.THE churches that spring up on every village green，are pleasing and peculiar features of the scenery of New England.They are often seen side by side with the small school-house，in loving brotherhood，teachers for this life and the next.The simplicity of the appearance of many of their congregations might be an object of curious observation to those accustomed only to the fashionably dressed throngs of city worshipers.I once attended divine service，many years since，with some friends，in an exceedingly secluded village，at the distance of a few miles from the spot where we were spending a part of the summer.The church was small and antique，and remote from other buildings.
2.The audience was almost entirely composed of practical agriculturists and their families.They were attired with perfect neatness，though with little conformity to the reigning modes.Their bronzed cheeks and toil-hardened hands showed that the physical comfort of a day of rest might be appreciated，while their intelligent and serious countenances evinced that they aspired to its higher privileges.
3.The weather being warm，many of the farmers removed their coats，depositing them on the back of their seats，and seemed muchto enjoy the additional coolness，while they thus disclosed the snowy whiteness of their coarse，home-made linen，that now almost obsolete branch of manufacture，which had such close affinity with habits of domestic industry and comfort.Their wives were evidently inured to toil，nor of that toil ashamed.A few of the mothers bore in their arms healthful and ruddy infants，leaving probably no person at home with whom they could safely intrust so precious a charge.They seemed to make no trouble，or if any was anticipated，the mother withdrew with them.The guileless spirit of the babe need not be counted an unfitting，though an unwonted guest，in the temple of the God of truth.
4.The form of the aged pastor was bent with time，and his thin hair of a silvery whiteness.For more than fifty years he had been the guide and friend of his people；“And ne’er had changed，nor wish‘d to change，his place.”
The affection was reciprocal，and it was touching to see with what attention they listened to every word that fell from his lips.His voice was tremulous，and the involuntary movement of his hand paralytic，but he spoke to them of sacred themes，and they loved them the better because he uttered them，and him the better because his life had so long been in harmony with what he taught.For two generations he had been with them，at bridal and at burial，at the christening-carol and at the death-wail.He had rejoiced in their prosperity，and at their last conflict with the Spoiler，had armed himself with prayer，and stood by，until there was no more breath.He had shed the baptismal dew on infant brows，that，now mottled with gray，bent over their children’s children.His flock had not been so numerous but that every part of their history was familiar to him，and kept its place in his memory.