Plymouth banner. (Plymouth, Marshall County, Ind.) 1852-1855, 1853-09-01

As the pastor took his seat. the Cid
man arose. his tall form towering in its
symmetry, and his chest swelling as he
inhaled his breath through his thin dila-
ted nostrils. To me. at the time there
was something inspiring and grand in
the appearance OF the old man as he stood
with his eye full upon the audience. his
teeth shut h,rI, and silence like that OF
death Throughout, the whole church.
He bent his gaze upon the tavern keep
er, and that peculiar eye fingered and
kindled for half 4 .noment.
The scar grew red upon his forehead
and beneath the heavy eye brows his eyes
gittered anil glowed like serpents.-
The tavern keeper quail1d before that
searching glance, and felt relief when
the old man withdrew his gaze. For a
moment, ht seemed lost in thought, and
then in low ,remulous tone he COM
menced. There was depth in that voice.
thrilling pathos and sweetness which
rivited every heart IN the house before
the first period had been rounded My
fathers attention had become fixed on
the eye of the speaker. with en- interest
which | never before seen him exhibit.
can but briefly RENE Der the substance
of what the old man said, though the
scene is as vivid before re as any | have
eveg witnessed.
My friends! lam a stranger in your
village, and trust may cali you frie ads
A new star has arisen, and there is hope
in the dark night which hangs ike pail
OF gloom over our country. With q
thrilling depth of voice. the speaker lock-
ed his hands together, and, while the
house was as still rs death he contin
ued-
"Oh. God! thou whn loohest with com.
passion upon the most errng of children,
thank thee that a brazen serpent has
been lifted. upon which the drunkard can
look and be hedisd--tha: a beacon has
burst out upon the darkness that sur
rounds him, which shall guide back to
honor and heaven, the bruised and weary
wanderer."
1t Is strange what power there is in
some voices. The speakers voice was
low and measured, but tear ;rembled in
every tone, and before knew why. q tear
dropped upon nay hand, followed by 9th
ers like rain drops. The old man brush
ed enc from his own eyes. uiid with : sigh
continued:
MEN and Christians You have just
heard that am ,agrant and fanatic.-
| an not. As God Knows my own sad
heart, | came here 70 do good. Hear me
and be just.
al AN an Old man, standing alone at
the end OF iif='s Journey. There is deep
sorrow in my heart and tears in my eyes.
| have journeyed over dark and beacon
less ocean, and all lile's hopes have been
wrecked. am without friends. home
or kindred upon earth. and look with
longing to the rest Of The night of death.
1t was not SO once
No one could withstand the touching
pathos of the old man. | noticed tear
trembling on the lid of my fathers eye,
and no more felt ashamed of my own.
mo my friends. it was not so once
away over the dark waves which have
wrecked my hopes. there is the blessed
light of happiness and home. | reach
again conyulsively for the shrineS of the
household idols that once were mine, now
mine no more on earth"
The old man seemed looking away
through fancy upon some bright vision.
his lips apart and his finger extended. |
involuntarily turned i'll the direction
where it was pointed. dreading TO see
some shadow invoked by its magic move
ments.
81 once had mother. With her old
heart crushed with sorrow. she went
down to the grave. l once had wife,
a fair. angel-hearted creature as ever
smiled in an earthly home. Her eye as
mild as summer sky, and her heart ss
cherished husbands love. Her blue eye
grew dim as the floods of sorrow washed
away its brightness. and the living heart
| wrung until every fibre was broken.
once had noble. brave and beautiful
boy, but he was driven out from the ru
ins of his home, and my old heart yearns
TO know if he yet lives. / once had
Date, sweet tender blossoms; but these
hands destroyed it, and it liveth with
one who loveth children.
"Do not be startled friends-I am not
a murderer in the common acceptation Of
that term. Yet there is light in ny
evening sky. A spirit mother rejoices
over the return of her prodigal son. The
wife smiles upon him who again turns
back to virtue and honor. The child an
gel visits me at night fall. and l feel the
hallowing touch of tiny palm upon my
feverish cheek. My brave boy. il he yet
lives, would forgive the sorrowing old
man for the treatment which drove him
into the world, and the blow that MAIN
ed him for life. God forgive me for the
ruin | have brought upon me and mine. ;"
He again wiped tear from his eye
My ia ther watched him with strange
;otane,tv au1 a countenance unusually