The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1844-04-12

1
trebledm on every syllable; every heart
in the assembly trembled in unison.
His peculiar phrases had that force OF
description, that the original scene ap-
peared to be at that moment acting be-
fore our eyes. We saw the very faces
of the Jews: the staring, frighttul dis
tortions of malice and rage. We saw
the buffet; my soul kindled with flame
of indignatlon; and my hands were in
voluntarily and convulsively clenched.
"But when he came touch on the
patience, the forgiving meekness OF our
Saviour; when he drew, to the life, his
blessed eyes streaming in tears to hea-
ven: his voice streaming to God a soft
and gentle prayer OF pardon on his en-
emies, Father, forgive them, for they
know not what they do,'-the voice OF
the preacher, which had all along fal-
tered, grew fainter and fainter, until
his utterance being entirely obstructed
by the force ofhis feelings, he raised
| his handkerchief TO his eyes, and burst
into loud and irrepresslble flood OF
grief. The effect is inconcelvable.
| The whole house resounded with the
mingled groans and sobs, and shrieks
of the congregation.
sit was some time before the tumult
subsidized, so far as to permit him to pro-
ceed. Indeed, Judging by the usual,
but faIlacious standard of my own
weakness. began to be very uneasy
for the situation of the preacher. For
| could not conceive how he would let
his audience down from the height to
which he had wound them, without i'm
pairing the solemnity and dignity of his
subject, or perhaps shocking them by
the abruptness of the fall. But-no:
the descent was as beautiful and sub
lime as the elevation had been rapid and
enthusiastic.
"The first sentence, with which he
broke the awful silence, was quotation
from Rosseau; Socrates died like Il
philosopher; but Jesus Christ like a
God
Il despair of giving you any idea of
the affect produced by this short SEN
tence, unless you could perfectly con-
ceive the whole manner Of the man, as
we'll as the peculiar crisis in the dis
course.-Never before did completely
understand what Demosthenes meant
by laying such stress ondelivery. You
are to bring before you the venerable
figure of the preacher; his blindness,
constantly recalling to your recolec-
ton old Homer, Ossian, and Milton.
and associating with his performance
the melancholy grandeur of their GEM
uses; you are to imagine that you hear
his slow, solemn, well-accented enuncl-
alton, ana his voice of affecting trem-
bling melody; you are to remember the
pitch of passion and enthusiasm, to
which The congregation were raised;
and then the few moments OF porten-
tious. death-like silence which reigned
throughout the house: the preacher, re-
moving his white handkerchief from
his aged face, (even yet wet from the
recent torrent of his tears,) and slowly
stretching forth the palsied hand which
holds it, begins the sentence, Socrates
died like a phllosopher'-then pauslng,
raising his other hand, pressing them
both, clasped together, with warmth
and energy. to his breast, lifting his
.sightless balls to heaven, and pouring
his whole soul into his tremulous voice
-'but Jesus Christ-like Godn II
he had been indeed and in truth an an,
gel of light, the effect could scarcely
have beenmore divine. Whatever
had been able to conc Give Of the SUBJ
Unity of Massilon or the force Of Bour
daloue, had fallen far short Of the pow
er which 1 felt from the delivery of this
simple sentence.