Raftsman's journal. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, 1858-10-27
VOL. 5.--N0. 9.
APosTRopHE TO WATER.

Some time since, saws the Pittsburgh Dis
patch, we alluded to the famous apostrophe TO
water which J ohm b. Cough, the eloquent lee
tnrer on temperance, has repeated TO electri-
fed thousands in America and England. Mr..
Cough never informed an audience that be
was not the author of that apostropiic, and for
years has enjoyed the undisputed credit of IT.
We stated that it originated with Paui Den
ton. an itinerant of the Methodist church IN
Texas and that it was delivered at a barbecue
which Denton had prepared, and to which he
invited the rangers. 1t had been years since
We read the incident, and we are delighted TO
find IL in an exchange, credited to Texas pa
per- We feel sure our readers viii be equally
delighted with its perusal.
The smoking viands were arranged on the
tables by scores of slaves. and the throng pre-
pared to commence the sumptuous meal, when
voice pealed from the pulpit, loud as tho
blast of a trumpet in battle, s.Stay, gentlemen
and ladies, till the giyer of the barbecue asks
Gods blcssingi''
Every heart started, every eye was directed
TO the speaker. and a whisperless silence en-
sued, for all alike were struck by his remark
able appearance. lie was almost giant in
stature, though scarcely thirty years of age.
His hair, dark the ravens wing, flowed
down his immense shoulders in masses of nat
ural ringlets; his eyes, black as midnight,
beamed like stars over a face pale as Parian
marble, calm, passonless, spiritual and wear
ing a singular, indeiinaele expression. Tho
Heterogeneous crowd, hunters, gamblers and
hOmicides. gazed in mute astonishment- The
missionary prayed, but il sounded like no 9TH
er prayer ever addressed to the Throne OF
Grace. 1t was the cry of naked soul, and
that soul a beggar for the bread and the water
of heavenly life. ---.e
He ceased, and not till then did / become
conscious of weeping. | looked around thro'
nv tears and saw hundreds OF faces wet Gs
with rain. = = 5-
sspartake of Gods gift at the table, and then
come and sit down and listne to His gospel"
would be impossible to describe the sweet
tone OF kindness in which these simple words
were uttered, that made him on the instant
| five hundred friends. One heart, however, in
the assembly, was maddened by the evidence
of the preachers wonderful power
Colonel Watt Forman exclaimed in o sneer-
ing voice:
oMr. Paul Denton, your reverence has lied
You net only promised us good barbacue,
| but better liquor. Where is the liquor ~
.sThere - answ cred the missionary in tones
| of thunder. and pointing his motionless finger
at the matchless Double Spring gushing up in
two strong columns, with sound like shout
of joy,from the bosom of the earth s.There,'
he repeated, with look terrible as lightning,
while his enemy actually trembled at his feet
ssThere is the liquor which God, the eternal,
brews for all his children. Not in the sim
poisonous gasses, and surrounded with the
stencil of sickenIng odoTs and rank corrup-
ton, doth your father in heaven prepare tho
precious essence of life, the pure cold water.
But in the green glades and grassy dell, where
the red deer wanders, and the child loves to
play, there God himself brews it; and down
down in the deep valleys where the fountains
murmur and the rills sing and high on the
talT mountain tops. where the naked granite
glitterS like gold in the sun, where the STORM
cloud broods and the thunder tones crash, and
away far out on the wide. wide sea. where tho
hurricane howls music and the big waves roar
the chorus, sweeping the march OF Cod,
there he brews il, that beverage of life, health
giving water. And everywhere it is thing
of beauty cleaning in the dew-drop, singing
in the summer rain, shining In the lce-gem,
till the trees all seem turned to living jewels
spreading golden veil over the setting sun,
or a white gauze around the midnight moon
sporting in the cataract; sleeping in the gla-
cier; dancing in the hail shower; folding its
bright snow-cUrtains softly about the wintry
world; and weaving the many cOlored iris, the
zeraph's zone of the sky, whose woof is the
sunbeam Of heaven, all checkered over with
celestial flowers by the mystic hand OF refrae-
ton. Still always if is beautful--that blessed
life-wateri No poison bubbles on its brink;
its foam brings not madness and murder; no
blood stains its liquid glass; pale widows and
starving orphans weep not burning tears IN ITS
clear depths; no drunkards S shrIeklng ghost
from the grave curses il in words OF eternal
despair. Speak ont, my friends, would you
exchange it for the demons Enthusiastically"
shout like the roar of tempest answer
ed ssNo.'' .-.- ---. --e--
Critics need never tell me again tina. back
woodsmen are deaf TO the divine voice of eio-
quence, for saw at that moment the mission
airy held the hearts of the multitude, as il
were in the hollow of his hand, and the popu-
lar feeling ran in current SO Irresistible that
even the duelist, Watt Forman dared not ven
ture another interruption during the meeting
The camp-meeting continued, and revival
attended it such as never before or since was
witnessed in Texas. -..s s.--