Year: 1861

shrleks of the congregation. IL was
some time before the tumult had subsid
ed so far as to permit him to proceed
Indeed, judging by the usual but falla
cious standard of my own weakness,
began to be very uneasy for the situation
of the preacher; for could not conceive
how he would be able to let down his au
dience from the height 10 which he had
wound them, without imparing the sol
emnity and dignity of his subject, or per
haps shocking them by the abruptness Of
the fall. But, no, the descent was as sub
lime and beautiful as the elevation had
been rapid and enthusiastic.


The first sentence with which he broke
the awful silence, was quotation from
Rosseau: Socrates died like n philoso-
pher, but Jesus Christ like Godl


| despair of giving you any idea of the
effect produced by this short sentence, I'M
less you could perfectly conceive the whole
manner of the man, as well rs the pccu
liar crisis in the discourse. Never before
did completely understand what Demos
themes meant by laying stress on delivery.
You are to bring before you the venerable
figure of the preacher; his blindness con-
stantly calling to your recollection old Ho-
mer, Ossian and Milton, and associating
with his performance the melancholy
grandeur of these geniuses; you arc TO
imagine that you hear bis slow, solemn
and well accented enunciation, and his
voice of affecting, trembling melody; you
are to remember the pitch Of passion and
enthusiasm 10 which the congregation
were raised !; and then, the few moments of
portentous, death-lke silence which reign
ed throughout the house; the preacher
removing his white handkerchief from his
aged face (even yet wet with the recent
torrent of tears), and slowly stretching
forth his palsied hand which holds it, be-
gins the sentence, "Socrates died like a
philosopher"-then pausing, raising his
other hand, pressing them both together,
with warmth and energy to his breast lift
ing his sightless eyelds to heaven, and
pouring his whole soul in TO his voice
4" but Jesus Christ like n God" II he had
been indeed and in truth an angel of light.
the effect could scarcely have been more
divine.


Whatever | had been able TO conceive
of the sublimity Of Massilon, or the force
of Bourdcloue, it had fallen far short of
the power which I had felt from the de-
and agony of my feelings, had held my
whole system in suspense, now ran back
into my heart with a sensation which
cannot describe; kind of shuddering de-
licious horror! The paroxysm of blended
pity and Indignation, to which had been
transported, subsided into the deepest self
abasement, humility, and alteration. |
| had been lacerated and dissolved by
sympathy for our Saviour as n fellow
creature, but now with fear and trembling
| adored him as a Cod


If this description gives the Impress
ion that he had any theatrical trick in bis
manner, it does him great injustice. |
have never seen in any other orator, such
n union of simplicity and majesty. He
has not gesture, an attitude or an ac-
cent to which he does not seem forced by
the sentiment which he is expressing
His mind is too serious, too earnest, toe
diguifed, to stoop to artilice. Although
so far removed from ostentation rs mar
can be, yet it is clear that he is not only
polite scholar, but man of extensive
and prfound erudition. was forcibly
struck with a short, yet beautiful charac
ter which he drew Of our learned anc
amiable countryman, Sir Robert Boyle
he spoke of him rs if his "noble minC
had even before death divested himself o
all influence from his frail tabernacle o
fesh;" and called him, in his peculiar EN-


phatc and impressive manner, ga pur


intellgence-the link between man AM


angels"


This man has been before my imagin


alton ever since. A thousand times as


rode along l dropped my bride, and trie'


to initiate his quotation from Rosseau,


thousand times / abandoned the attemp


in despair, and felt persuaded that his pc


culiar manner arose from an energy {


soul, which nature could give, but whic


no human being could justly copy. |


short he seemed to be altogether bein


in former age, or Of totally differer
nature from the rest of men.-From a


old mans scrap-book.