Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1870-03-02
The Old Mans Story.

The Old Mans Story.
| shall never forget the commencement of
the temperance reformation. | was a child
at the time, some ton years old Our house
had every comfort and my kind parents idol.
lied me- their only child. Wine was always
on 'he table and both father and mother gave
it to me in the bottom Of their morning glass
One Sunday, at church, startling an
nouncement was made to our people. knew
nothing of its purport, but there was much
whispering by the men. The pastor said
that on the next evening there would be a
meeting and an address on the evils of in
temperance in the use of alcoholic liquors.
He expressed himself Ignorant of the meet
ing, and could not say what course it would
De best TO pursue in the matter.
The subject of the meeting came up at our
table after supper, and questioned my father
about it with all the curious earnestuess Of
child. The whispers and words that had
been dropped in my hearing clothed the whole
affair with great mystery to me, and | was
all earnestness to learn the strange thing
My father merely said it was a shame to unite
the church and the state
The night came, and groups of people gath.
cred on the tavern steps, and heard the lest
and laugh, and saw the drunken men come
reeling out of the bar-room.
urged my father to let me 20, but he at
first refused. Finally, thinking it would be a
harmless qualification of my curiosity, he put
on his hat, and we passed along the green to
the church. well remember how the people
appeared as they came in seeming to wonder
what kind of an exhibition was to come off
In the corner was the tavern-keeper, and
around him number Of his friends. For an
hour the people of the place continued to
come in, until there was fair housefull. All
were curiously watching the door and won-
dering what would appear next. The parson
stole III and took his seat behind pillar in
the gallery, as if doubtful of the propriety Of
being in the church at all.
Finally two men came in and went towards
the altar and took their seats All eyes were
fixed upon them, and n general stiffness pre-
vailed throughout the church. The men were
unlike in appearance, one being short and
thick-set ia his build, and the other tall and
wel-formed. The youngest had the manner
and dress of clergyman, full, round face,
and quiet, good-natured look, as he leisurely
looked around his audience.
But my childish interest was in the old
man. His broad deep chest, and unusual
height looked giant-like as he strobe up the
aisle. His hair was white as snow, his brow
deeply Scared with burrows, and round his
handsome mouth were lines Of deep and touch
ing sadness. His eyes were black and rest
less, and kindled as the tavern-keeper uttered
low jest. His lips were compressed, and
crimson flush went and came over his pale
check
/ The younger finally arose and stated the
object Of the meeting, and asked if there was
clergyman present to say a prayer Our
pastor kept his seat, and the speaker himself
made short address, at the conclusion call
ing upon any one to make remarks. The
pastor arose under the gallery, and attacked
the position of the speaker, urging the argu-
ments | often have heard SINCE and concluded
by denouncing these engaged in the movement
as meddlesome fanatics who wished to break
the time honored usages of good society, and
injure the business Of respectable men. At
the conclusion of his remarks the tavern.
keeper and his friends got up a cheer, and the
popular current of feeling was evidently
against the strangers and their plan.
! While tho pastor was speaking, the old man
leaned forward and fixed his dark eyes upon
him, as if to catch every word. As the pas
tor took his seat, the old man arose. bis tall
form in its symmetry, and his chest heaved as
he inhaled the breath through his llated nos
trils. To me, at that time, there was some
thing awe-inspirng in the appearance of the
old man, as he stood, his full, dark eye upon
the audience, his teeth shut hard, and a silence
like that Of death reigned throughout the
church.
He bent his gaze upon the tavern-kseper,
and that peculiar eye fingered and kinded
for a moment The scar grew red upon
his forehead and beDeath his heavy brows
his eyes glittered and gowed like n serpents.
The tavern-keeper quailed before that scorch-
ing glance, and felt relief when the old
man withdrew his gaze For moment he
seemed lost in thought, and then in low,
tremulous tone he commenced. There was a
depth in that voice. thrilling sweetness and
pathos which riyeted every heart in the
church before the first period had been round
ed. My fathers attention had become fixed
upon the eye of the speaker with an interest
| had never before seen him exhibit. | can
but briefly remember the substance of what
the old man said, though the scene is still as
vivid before me as any | ever witnessed.
My friends" said he, am a stranger in
your village, but trust | may call you my
friends A new star has risen, and there Is
hope in the dark night that hangs like a pail
Of gloom over our country
With thrilling depth Of voice the speaker
continued" o God Thou who lookesi
with compassion upon the erring of earth i
frail children, thank Thee that braxen life
serpent has been lifted, upon which drunk.
ard may look and be hoaled that beacon
has burst outupon the darkness that surround.
ed 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 trembled in every tone ;
and before | knew why tear dropped on my
hand, followed by others like rain drops The
old man brushed one from his eye and con-
tinued-
Men and Christians You have lust
heard that / am a fanatic. | am not. As
God knows my heart, came here Just to do
you good. Hear me and be just. am an old
man, standing alone at the end of life's jour
ney. There is deep sorrow in my heart and
tears in my eyes / have journeyed over a
dark and beaconless ocean all my life's
brightest hopes have been wrecked am
without friends, kindred, or home 1t was
not so once"
No eye could withstand the touching pa
thos Of the old man. noticed tears on my
fathers eyelids, and no longer felt ashamed Of
my own.
No, my friends, it was not once 80.
Away over the dark waves that have wrecked
my hopes there is blessed light Of happiness
and home. reach again convulsively for
the shrines Of household idols that once we're
mine, but mine no more"
The old man seemed to be looking away