Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1868-10-27
Death of an eloquent minister.


| The telegraph announced on Saturday, the
10th of October, the death of Rev. Thomas
Hewlipgs Stockton, d. D., of Philadelphia.
The following extract will give the reader some
idea of the beautiful and graphic style of this
eloquent divine:
The universe may dissolve as dream but
what shall impair the faithfulness or pervert
the justice of God? i wait for the Lord, nv
soul doth wait, and in His Word do | hope-
My soul waiteth for the Lord, more than they
that watch for the morning. say, more than
they that watch for the morning The priest
in the temple, the invalid on his couch and the
prisoner at his window, watch for the morning;
the sailor. the soldier, and the hunter, and how
many more, and with how much anxiety all
watch for the morning. The traveller, especial
ly, gone up the day before, and covering all
night among the summit SHOWS of the Andes,
the Alps, or the Himalayas, how bravely he
waits, and how intently he watches, for the
morning He hopes, without promise But,
does the sun disappoint him !? Never At
certain hour, the black zenith grows blue again,
the gray east yellows into amber and fushes
with rose, innumerable scintillant splendors
shoot through the rose and amber, and spread
abroad in the upper blue, and, at the minute
nay, at the moment-there it flashes rim, half
round, all-round, filling the world with glory
And the startled stars veil their faces, and retire
The sky shows but one light. The mountains
put on their purple and gold, and pay princely
obeisance The living torrents catch the living
lustre, and leap with it into thousand welcom-
ing valleys. From coast to coast, the biowy
seas uplift their jewelled arms, and clap their
hands for joy And the soul of the traveller,
the greatest thing in all the scene, infinitely
greater than the sun itself, looks out through
the calm eyes of his little body, lost like snow
flake among the cliffs, with tremulous tongue
modulates the thin air into the instant music
and rapture of thanksgiving, and charms his
Maker, and blesses his race with the renewal
of the angels song, Glory to God in the high
es, and op earth peace, good will toward
men ~
Mrs. Welby was child, and Stockton mere
youth when, at St. Michaels, village on the
Eastern Shore of Maryland, she heard the SER
mon which she subsequently, embalmed in her
death less verse. We append portion of the
poem, to indicate the impression made by the
fervid eloquence of the boy preacher, as well as
to convey some idea of his extraordinary pow
ers They will be relished by all who love
genuine poetry-the music of numbers such as
this child Of genius could awaken in the SOUL
She says:
In stature majestic, apart from the throng,
He stood in his beauty, the theme of my songl
His cheek pale with tervor-the blue orbs above
Lit up with the spendors of youth and of love,
Yet the heart-glowing rapture that beamed from
those eyes
Seemed saddened by sorrow and chastened by
sighs,
As if the young heart in its bloom had grown cold
With its loves unrequited It's sorrows untold.
Such language as his may never recall,
But his theme was ssalvation-salvation to all
And the souls of a thousand in ecstacy hung
On the manna-lke sweetness that dropped from
his tongue.
Not alone on the his wild eloquence stole:
Enforced by each gesture. it sank to the soul,
Till it seemed that an angel had frightened the
sod
And brought to each bosom message from God
He spoke of the Saviour-what pictures he drew
The scenes OF his sutferings clear on my
The cross-the rude cross where he suffered and.
died
The gush of bright crimson that flowed from his
side;
The cup of his sorrows-the wormwood and gall;
The darkness that manted the earth as pail
The garland of thorns; and the demOn-like crews
Who knelt as they scoffed him, Hail, King of
the Jews !''
He spoke, and it seemed that his statue. like form
Expanded and glowed, as his spirit grew warm;
As touched with compassion he ended in prayer;
His hands clasped above him-hs blue orbs up.
thrown,
Still pleading for sins that were never his own.
While that month where such sweetness ineffably
clung
Still spoke, though expression had died on his
tongue.
o God! what emotions the speaker awoke
A mortal he seemed-yet Deity spoke;
man-yet so far from humanity riven;
On earth--yet so closely connected with heaven!
How oft in my fancy I've pictured him there
AS he stood IN thattriumph ofpassion and prayer,
With his eyes closed In rapture-their transient
eclipse
Made bright by the smiles that ilumined his lips.
There's charm in delivery-a magical art
That thrills like kiss, from the lip to the heart;
lis the glance the expresson-the well-chosen
word,
By whose magic the depths of the spirit are
stirred
The smile-the mute gesture-the soul startling
pause,
The eyes sweet expression, that NETS white it
awes;
The lips soft persuasion, its musical tone:
y such was the charm of that eloquent oneI
Better than grandeur, better than gold,
Than rank aud titles thousand fold,
Is a healthy body, mind at ease
And simple pleasures that always please,
A heart that can feel for another's woe,
And share his joys with a genial glow,
f. With Svmnathles larOa aDnurb to onfo1d