Phenix gazette. [volume] (Alexandria [D.C.]) 1825-1833, 1832-04-05

these productions Of Mr. Writ, supersedes the
task ofcrtlcism in noticing them. and only leaves
US the duty Of calling attention to this new ed''
ton Of one Of the most popular American works
ever pubished-the present being the tenth edi'
ton. The style Of the writer, vitated, as it at
forwards became in his Life of Patrick Henry,
has been much and justly commended Al
though it is occasionally too redundant and ambi-
tous IN its character, and abounds over much In
adjurations and apostrophes. in generallt is ear
nest and fervid. and adapted with great felicity
to the interesting and instructive subjects of
which the writer treats. II is rich, too in veins
of generous feeling and high morality, which,
though recommendation to every reader, ID par
,icularly so to the young
We have room but for one extract, it is the in
imtabIe sketch of the Blind Preacher, which
though possibly already familiar to the reader, he
will no. complain of having again placed before
his eyes.-N Y american.
1t was one Sunday, as travelled through the
county of Orange, that my eye was caught by
cluster of horses tied near ruinous, old wooden
house, in the forest, not far from the road side
Having frequently seen such objects before in ira
yelling through these States. had no difficulty
in understanding that this was place OF wor-
ship.
Devotion alone should have stopped me. to
Join in the duties of the congregation; but must
confess, that curiosity, to hear the preacher OF
such wilderness was not the least of my mo.
tivps. On entering, was struck with his prefer
n raj appearance; he was a tall, and very spare
old man; his head. which was covered with
white linen cap, his shrivelled hands. and his
voice. were all shaking under the influence of
palsy; aud few moments ascertained to me
that he was perfectly blind.
The first emotions which touched my breast,
were those Of mingled pity aud veneration. But
an sacred God! how soon were all my feelings
changed The lips OF Plato were never more wor-
thy Of prognostic swarm of bees. than were the
lips of this holy man! 1t was day OF the admins
tration Of the sacrament. and his subject, OF
course, was the passion of our Saviour. had
heard the subject handled thousand times:
had thought il exhausted long ago. Little did |
suppose that in the wild wools oil America, was
to meet with man whose eloquence would give
to this topic new and more sublime pathUs, than
had ever before witnessed.
As he descended from the pulpit, to distribute
the mystic symbols, there was peculiar. more
than human snlemnity in his air and manner,
which made nv blood run cold. and my whole
frame shiver.
He then drew picture of the sufferings Of our
Saviour; his trial before Plate: his ascent up Cal
vary; his cruci6xion. and his DEATH knew the
whole history; but never. until then, had heard
the circumstances so arranged, SO coored! 1t
was all new: and seemed to have heard it for
the first time in nv life. His enunciation was so
deliberate, that his voice trembed on every syIa-
BILE: and every heart in the assembly trembled in
unison. His peculiar phrases had that force OF
description that the original scene appeared to be.
at that moment, acting before our ewes. We
saw the very faces of the Jews: the starting, fright
full distortion Of malice and rage We saw the
buffet; my soul klndled with flame OF indgna-
ton; and my hands we're Involuntary and con-
vulsiveIy clinched.
But when he came to touch on the patience,
the forgivlng meekness of our Saviour: when
he drew, to the life, his blessed eyes streaming
IN tears To heaven; his voice breathing to God,
soft and gentle prayer Of pardon on his enemies,
FEATHER, forgive them, for they know not what
they do''-the voice Of the preacher. which had
all along faItered, grew fainter and fainter, until
his utterance being entirely obstructed by the
force OF his feelings. he raised his handkerchief
to his eyes, and burst into loud and ire
pressibIe food of grief. The effect is inconceiv-
able The whole house resOunded with the min
sed grOans, and sObs, and shrieks OF the congre.
CATION
II was some time before the the tumut had
subsidized. so far as to permit him to proteed.-
Indeed, Judging by the usual. but fallacious
standard of my own weakness. Ibegan to be We
ry uneasy for the situation of the preacher. For
[couId not conceive how he would be able to lei
his audience down from the height to which he
had wound them without impaIring the solemhIty
and dignity of his subject. or perhaps shocking
them by the abruptness of the fall. But-no;
the descent was as beautiful and sublime, as the
elevation mad been rapid and enthusiastic.
The first sentence. with which he broke the
awful silence. vas quotation from Rousseau. so
crates died like philosopher, but Jesus Christ,
like God?'
despair Of giving you any idea Of the effect
produced by this short sentence, unless you could
perfectly conceive the whole manner Of the man,
al well as the peculiar crisis in the DISCOURSE
Never before did completely understand what
Demosthenes meant by LAYING such stress on
delivery. You are to bring before you the vene-
rable figure of the preacher; his blindness, con-
stantly recalling to your recollection old Homer, !