Year: 1874

n Sens0ttOn IN new AOFh'


From the New York SUM-


The poet priest, Father Ryan, of Mo
bile, preached in st. Stephens Il. Z.
church in Twenty eighth street at lO3
a. m. Yesterday, and the usual congrega-
ton who listened to his eloquent and
logical sermon returned to the lecture in
the evening, reinforced by at least a
thousand more persons than we're in the
church in the morning. AS soon as the
church doors were opened the throngs
who were waiting surged into the edifce,
and as fast as the tickets could be taken
they were accommodated with seats,
until every pew in the body of the
church and both of the side aisles were
filed.


Respectful and music loving as Cath
alic congregations are, that in st. Steph-
ems last night showed signs of impa-
tience that the floods Of melody from
the organ loft should cease, and permit
them to listen to the orator; and when at
last Father Ryan made his appearance
with DR.. McGlynn, the hutter of expec-
tation became audible, and as he as
cended the pulpit many rose from their
seats and stretched their necks to catch a
better view of the small, ungraceful,
unpretending man that stood before
them. He looked neither the poet nor
the orator. But when he had finished
reading from the eighteenth chapter OF
the gospel of st. John, the account OF
Pilates last interview with Jesus, in a
ringing, sonorous voice, that penetrated
like a sharp bell to all parts of the build
ing, and stood silently gazing on the
multitude after uttering the words,
"What is truth2" the singular power OF
genius held his audience spell bound,
even before he broke forth in clarion
tones that electrified them, PLATE,
Governor of Judea, did you ever forget
the pale face of the poor prisoner that
bound and shackled before you, looked
back into your face with his sad eyesf
Did you ever forget his low whispers
when he answered your interrogatoryf Z
Did he haunt you to the last day OF your
life with his poor, pale face that on FRI
day morning gazed into yours2 Did u
torture you to the end2 A man bound
and fet,ered, without one friend to sus-
tain him and say to the governor, de
is true, and therefore innocent. Poor,
powerless, friendless, he stood before
the ruler and answered, and ere his an
swer could be heard, Plate returned to
the multitude without who clamored for
his blood. Before PLATE he stood in the
guise Of a malefactor, and he, the
naughty Roman whose banner had
flashed in victory in every quarter OF the
world, asked man fettered and bound
Are you kingY
For an hour and twenty minutes he
held his auditors enchanted by a success
sion of alternate logical points and How
ers of poetic metaphor and symbolism,
mosaicked in a stream Of pure and ele'
CANT English.


As soon as he began speaking his form
and face glowed with the fire Of eloquence
and every movement and gesture was
full of impasGoned grace and beautiful
in expression. His small and we'll
formed hands are as expressive as his
face. His concluding words were;
Ever since that Good Friday truth has
become a coronet linked with sorrow
They nailed his feet to the cross, but
| instead Of stopping them in their path
way it made them strong to travel through
ages with his children. Roses fade, bui
thorns endure through years and ages
Truth was Graded before the human
race was cradled and earth and humanity
will die before its de profundil
will be sung. Truth never wears a per
haps. 1t is an everlasting. She is a,
intolerant OF uncertainty as arithmetic
and geometry are They laugh at your
efforts to make twice two three or tC
make the three angles of triangle equa
to four right angles. But while truth il
intolerant Of falsehood she must be tol
Grant Of those who fall in falsehood, bu
do it unconsciously Of the mistake they
are making. Smile net at the DruiC
who clasped an oak thinking he haC
found truth. Honor him rather that he
pursued her, though he worshipped al
error. But we have not a shadow Of the
truth but truth itself. Not CLEAN o.
heaven through a rift in cloud, but the
full blue and the cleaning sunlight o.
truth to lead US to the sunlight of eter
nifty.