Advent and Lent, is symbol of sorrow or union of love and pain.
The west door of the church opens directly into the nave.
Above it is a circular or rose window nine feet in diameter, glorious with stained glass, the gift of the Sunday-school.
The pews, thirty-seven in number, are open seats of quartered oak; the total seating capacity being about three hundred.
Within a few months Pew No. 29
has been set apart for the use of students of Tufts College, and a designating plate affixed to the end of the pew.
In the earlier days of the church the clergyman read the service clad in a surplice, and during the singing of the second hymn, retired to the robing room and donned a black silk gown or preacher's robe.
Later, say about the year 1870, an advanced form of worship obtained, and the gown fell into disuse, the minister wearing the surplice with a stole during the entire service, the stole being considered the symbol of a yoke.
To the imagination rapt in sacred reverie there come pictures of this consecrated pile, with its low depending roof and ‘ivy mantled tower.’
What a beautiful scene is that, and how inspiring when at even-song the rays of the setting sun, streaming through the great rose window tinted with many colored hues, fall on aisle and pew and chancel, and we are reminded that about this spot cluster the most hallowed associations.
Here we have brought our children in infancy and presented them at the font for baptism; here in later years they have received the rite of confirmation; here to the strains of the wedding march we have advanced to the altar; and here, also, with solemn dirge, has been performed the last sad rite.
We see the altar draped in white, with hangings of gold, the organ, the white-robed choristers and the words of Pope
's majestic hymn, set to the music of the Russian
anthem, ring out upon the air and break with heavenly melody upon our ears.