The Belmont chronicle, and farmers, mechanics and manufacturers advocate. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1848-1855, 1853-07-29

, IN tears to heaven; his voice breathing {
God, soft and gentle prayer of pardon o
his enemies, "Father forgive them, for the
know not what they do''--the voice of tn
!. preacher, which had all along faltered, gre,
4 fainter, until his utterance being entirel
|obstructed by the force of his feelings, h
n raised his handkerchief to his eyes, and burs
o into loud and irrepressible flood of grief
y The effect is inconceivable. The who'll
house resounded with the mingled grouns
0 and sobs, and shrieks of the congregation.
: 1t was some time before the tumult hat
0 subsided, SO far as to permit him to proceed
Indeed, judging by the usual, but falaciou'
D standard of my own weakness, began to bt
very uneasy for the situation of the preach
er. For / could not coaceive, how he woult
be able to let his audience down from the
height 70 which he had wound them, withou,
impairing the solemnity and dignity of his
subject, or perhaps shocking them by the
was as beautiful and sublime, as the elevation
had been rapid and enthusiastick
The first sentence, with which he broke
the awful silence, was a quotation from
Rousseau "Socrates died like a philosopher,
but Jesus Christ, like God!''
despair of giving you an idea of the effect
produced by this short sentence, unless you
could perfectly conceive the whole manner
Of the man, as 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 venerable figure of the
preacher; his blindless, constantly recalling
to your recollection old Homer, Ossian and
Milton, and associating with his performance,
the melancholy grandeur of their geniuses;
you are to imagine that you hear his slow,
solemn, well-accented enuncation, aud his
voice of affecting, trembling melody; you
are to remember the pitch of passion and
enthusiasm to which the congregation were
al 'cd; and then, the few minutes of portentous,
deathlike silence which reigned throughout
the house: the preacher removing 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: "Socra-
ties died like philosophe pausiig,
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 tremuous
voicc-"but Jesus Christ-like God!'' If he
had been indeed and in truth an angel oflight,
the effect could scarcely have been more
divine.
Whatever had been able to conceive of
the sublimity of Massilon, or the force of
Bourdaloue, had fallen far shortof the pow
er which felt from the delivery of this SIM
pie sentence. The blood, which just before
had rushed in n hurricane upon my brain,
and in the violence and agony ofmy feelings,
had held my whole system in suspense, now
ran back into my heart, with a sensation
which cannot describe: kind Of shuddering
delicious horror! The paroxysm of blended
pity and Indignation, to which | had been
transported, subsidized into the deepest self
abasement, humility and alteration l had
Just been lacerated and dissolved by sympa-
thy, for our Saviour as fellow creature; but
now, wirh fear and trembling, l adored him
as-ss Il Godw
II this description give you the impression,
that this incompatible minister had any thing
of shallow, theatrical trick in his manner, it
does him great injustice. have never seen,
in any other orator, such an union of simpli-
city and majesty. He has not a gesture, an
attitude, or an accent, to which he does not
seem forced, by the sentiment which he is ex-
pressing. His mind is too serious, too
earnest too soicitous, and, at the same time,
too dignifed, to stoop to artifice. Although !
as far removed from ostentation as man can
be, yet it il clear from the train, the style and
substance of his thoughts, that he is, not only
a very polite scholar, but man of extensive
a nd profound erudition. | was torciby
struck with short, yet beautiful character
which he drew OF our learned and amiable
sir Robert Boyle he spoke of
him, as if "his noble mind had, even before I
death, divested herselfof all influence from
his frail tabernacle ofllesh;' and called him,
is his peculiarly emphatick and impressive
manner, "a pure intelligence: the link be-
tween men and angels"
This man has been before my imagination
almost ever since. A thousand times, as l
rode along, dropped the reins of my bride.
stretched forth my hand, and tried to initiate
his quotation from Rousseau; a thousand !
times | abandoned the attempt in despair, and
ltll ptIouduCu tndL hio PcSuiiui ohu
power arose from energy of soul, which
nature could give, but which no human being
could justly copy. In short, he seems to be
altogether being oc former age, or of a
totally different nature from the rest OF man.
As recall, at this moment, several of his !
awfully striking attitudes, the chilling tide,
with which my blood begins to pour along
my arteries, reminds me of the emotions
produced by the first sight of Gray y'sinroductory
picture of his bard.
"On rock, whose naughty brow,
Crowns DER old Conway's foaming flood,
"Robed in the sable garh ofwo,
"With haggard eyes the poet stood
"Q.oose his beard and hOary hair
"sireamed, like a meteor, TO the troubled air)
"And with poets hand aud prophets fire,
"Struck the deep sorrows of his Tyre"
LoRIY ANDEws We hear but one voice
outside of few Locofoco papers all over
the State of Ohio, and that voice is in distinct
ratification ofthe doinrs of the Teachers Day-