Iowa capitol reporter. [volume] (Iowa City, Iowa) 1841-1855, 1853-06-29
Father Taylor, the Sailors Preach
or,

Father Taylor, the Sailors Preach
CT.
You have never heard of Father
Taylor, the Boston Sailors preacher!
Well, you should go down to hi:
church some Sunday. 1t is not a
the court end of the town. The ar
chins in the neighborhood are guilt,
less of shoes or bonnets. You will
see quite ii sprinkling of police at the
corners. Green Erin, too, is well
represented; with a dash of Africa
checked off with dough faces.
Let US go into the church; there
are no stained glass windows, no rich
ly draperied pulpit, no luxurious seats
to suggest a nap to your sleepy con-
science. No odor of pate houli, OF
nonpariel or boquet de violet will be
waited across your patrician nose.
Your satin and broadcloth will fail
to procure you the highest seat in the
synagogue-they being properly re-
served for cold salts"
Here they come, one after another
with horny palms and bronzed faces
1t stirs my blood like the sound of a
trumpet to see them. The seas they
have crossed: the surging pillows
they have breasted; the lonely, dis
NAL, dreary nights they have kept
watch; the harpies in port who have
assaulted their generous sympathies
the sullen splash of the sheeted dead
in its ocean sepulcher-what stirring
thoughts and emotions do their wealth
err beaten faces call into play! God
bless the sailor! Here they come,
sure of welcome, conscious that they
are not intruders on aristocratic soil
sure that each added face will send 6
thrill of pleasure to the heart of the
good old man, who holds them all a:
one family to his patriarchal bosom
There he is; how reverently ht
drops on his knees and utters that ST
lent prayer. Now he is on his feet
with quick motion he adjusts hi:
spectacles, and says to the uardy tar
doubtful of a berth, Room here
brotherr' pointing to seats in tn
| pulpit. Jack don't know about that
He can climb the rigging when Bore
as whistles his tiercest blast; he car
swing into the long boat with a stou
heart when the creaking timbers have
parted beneath him; but to noun
the pulpit! Jack doubts his qualifi
cations, and bushes through his mash
of bronze. Groom enough, brother?
again treasures him, and with'a lit,
tie extra fumbling at his tarpaulin
and hitching at his waistband, he Is
soon as much at home as though he
were on his vessels deck.
The hymn is read with heart tone
There is no installing either the po-
cts meaning or the readers oe> otion
And now, if you have a scientific
musical ear, which, thank heaven,
have not, you may criticise the sing
ing, while am not ashamed Of the
tears that steal down my face, as.l
mark the effect of good Old Hundred
minus trills and hourishes, on Nep
tunes honest, hearty, ole-souled
sons.
The text is announced. There fol.
lows no arrangement of dickeys, OIL
bracelets, or eyeglasses. You for
get your ledger and the fashions, the
last prima donna, and thatyour neigh,
Dor is not one of the supper ten," as
you fix your eye with one) on the
good old man, and are swept away
from earthly moorings, by the flow
ing tide ofhis simple, earnest elo
queuce You marvel that these ut
tered truths OF his never struck your
thoughtless mind before. My per
fails to convey to you the play of ey
preston on that earnest face, those
emphatic gestures, the starting tear
or the thr ling voice-but they al
tell on Jack.
?. And now an infant is presented
for baptism. The pastor takes it in
&Ae4rm. O, surely, he is himself 1
father, else it would not be poised $,
gently-Now he holds it up, that al
may view its dimpled beauty, am
says:
SIS there one here who doubts
should this CHILD die to-day, its RICH
among the blessed?" One murmur
ed spontaneous No! burst from Jack
lips as the baptismal drops lave it
sinless temples. Lovingly the littl
lamb is folded with a kiss and a bles
sing to the heart of the earthly shep
herd, ere the maternal arm receive i,
Jack looks on and weeps; and hoy
can he help weeping? His mothe
the sod now covers her-otten in
voked Heavens blessing on her son
and well he remembers the touch @
her gentle hand and the sound ofhe
loving voice as she murmured tina
imploring prayer for him; and HOY
has her sailor boy redeemed hi
youthful plomise? lie dashes ava.
his scalding tears, with his horn.
palm; but please God that Sab bait
that Sabbath-shall be a talism al
upon which memory shall ineifacea
bly, inscribe-
"Go and sin no more"
| UT'Mr. Swipes, I've just kicked
your William out of DOORS"