Portage sentinel. [volume] (Ravenna, Ohio) 1845-1854, 1849-09-17

] s.s-s31sA AZ sssya rsss,sstfss fE 81 9-
81, ssl q Ess4oa ssEs.stsa sasaa - 81 80
oorneria the Great City, nocking the riass
1 light wislreileir Hrs1d ,cnialnnss theR cold
marb.es aanas, aaaiiiifess side sby side with
them, sloemsa iiie black Iaitand gfinsfthe
Leper's Alf7kheuseaas ess sssa ~
!, dare mot kfollow sttn,s Face when il
glides inteastheS F. ssiionablei Chprch. Il
have not the courage. aThe Fashionable
/ Church, where pews are bought and sold.
ike dry goods and copper stock, where the
gold Communion Cup seems filled to4lhe
brim with theEtears of the ezWHesches WtIese
chilled ips. III ha
CO nia7BfD fflaF Tor the rich man only
brings to mind the Black Gibbet erected in
yonder jail-yard for his starved victim;
where the silks and satins, velvet cushions,
gold clasp Bibles, and Preacher dressed in
soft apparel, only force before my eyes
those ten thousand Healhens of q Large
City. who have no Preacher, no. Church,
no Bible, no Bread-no God! Nothing
but rags and misery, the Jail and the glib.
!
/ flames of a never dying Hell
No-no-l have not courage TO follow
the Face into the Fashionable Church, and
see Inc scorn which would be flung inlo its
divine ewes, were the lips to murmur My
once-"JEsus AND THE PooR!'
! Is there no music in that phrase?
| Can it be that there is i'll this Large City
one heart 50 withered by luxury, so rotten
with the cankersof the Pharisee, as not
to ,hrob and swell at the deep music OF
those words2 Then why these splendid
churches and dismal jails, these marble
allars and leper's, kennels, crowded :ogelher
! in one internal contrast?
w hat soul So base rs 10 seperate these
words, joined together by Almighty Gods
Why need Ispeak 10 you from tho silence
of my room?--I that am no Preacher, and
have my forehead free from amounting oil
and apostolic hands-when these four
words arc in themselves Poem, Sermon,
a Prayer, a Revelation shining down from
God into the Soul!
"JEsUs AND THE PooRt'
Let US go through the Large City, and
behold those scenes which would meet the
eye Of the Lord Jesus were he 10 come
back TO earth again in bodily form, and
walk our streets rs once he walked the
dusty reads of Palestine .-.
Come with me--from your comfortable
chamber, where the smile of Home glows
in your face; come, rich man, from your
bed Of down,for have scenes to show you
hat. may wake your heart 10 thought
Come, my good friend, the Preacher; let
ne lead you from your study, where yon
sci enshrined among Dead Creeds, yourself
but an embodied creed, chbked up among
rotten snphistries and Theologies, that are
only Venerable because their hideous
murray features are covered with tie dust
Of a thousand years.
| Come.
Conc: leave of quarrelling Cor little
while about the shapes Of gowns and the
fashions OF altars, and go out with me inle
that dark world which lies writhing ir
wickedness and wrong, among those mill
ions who go down to death while you sit ir
your chair, calmly splitting Theological
hairs into nine parts, nine times told.
Come: have scenes 10 show you, ane
dreams 10 dream with you, that may bring
horne to your soul that still small voice
which saith-"JEsus AND THE PooR!'
Now, my friend, let me ask you to g
with me, on short and solemn journey.
Come with me out yonder, TO the north
west
| Lo! A magnificent temple-a noun
tain Of carved and pillared snow-tower:
up into the sky. -.
1t is beautiful, this immense Form o
j Marble, and the serene air of ancien
Greece invests its white pillars, and fresh
ems in every sepulchred capital. I,,'
We enter that temple: ahl how dark
how. cold, how gloomy, these archiny
chamberst No, they are vaults, grav'
vaults; and this is a Tomb, a magnilicen
place of coffins and skulls. The Mansolen
! of some dead warrior, marble shrine fo
some pour Mummy of Glory. s 80 -
90 We roam through these dark vaults, w
ascend the stairs of this Mammoth Sepul
chre, we go softly along these dark room
bark! our footsteps echo like thunde
claps around us! Through the roug
boards, nailed along yonder window; iain
gfimpses of moonlight break into the thicl
darkness of this vault.
And there, in this darkness, wa!kin
along this floor of stone gliding to an
) fro-we behold a dim ghostly figure.
} comes into the moonlight! 1t is the fgur
{ Of an old man whose face is scanned wit
wrinkles, whose solitary eye glares with
} pale deep light, as he walks to and fro
uttering low, deep, monotonous moar
wringing his hands and beating them agains
} his breast.
, This is strange sight-an old mar
plainly dressed, his face wrinkled, h
solitary eye glaring CLASSY light, as
walks in this Mammoth Sepulchre, wiring
J, ing his hands, beating his breast. ulterin
$ that low, deep moan, that makes your bloc
4 run cold.
r We approach the old man. While h
:, anguish chills US, and his solitary ey
CLEANS Its fife-so glassy-into our hear
{ we gather courage and speak to him.
r, "Old man, tell US, why do you wande
s here, SO lonely at dead Of night wringin
E your hands and beating your breast-''
u He is silent. The moonlight throue
, the crevice plays over his features, wrthin
10 in silent anguish. Again he glides on h
<, solitary watch, and suddenly turnin
y whispers with his white lips: