Herald Of The Times

An article in your Editor's Table for February, presenting a specimen of 'colored pulpit oratory,' recalled very vividly an incident that happened in a beautiful grove near the city of Burlington, New-Jersey, some few years since. The expected advent of a distinguished African pulpit-orator, from Pittsburgh, had been the theme of discussion among the sable sons and daughters of Africa, in Burlington, for weeks. On the day appointed for the holding-forth, the pulpit-stage erected between two venerable oaks was crowded with the colored hearers of the Methodist Episcopal Church; while beneath and around it, lay a 'darkness, which, like that of Egypt, might have been felt, and I may add, unlike it, smelled. After the opening prayer by a venerable preacher, upon whose black sconce the white wool lay in patches like hoar-frost, a young athletic negro, with the black face, and crisp, short curl of the wool, only to be seen in the real Guinea breed, advanced to the pulpit-desk. He evidently felt that his fame had preceded him, as he looked over that dusky mass, now hushed to admiring silence at his presence. This sable Chrysostom took for his text: 'Put not your trust in Princes;' and after a glowing exordium, explaining the meaning of the sacred writer, he informed his audience that there were but two kinds of great men--holy princes, and profane princes. 'In de last,' said he, 'my bruddern, de world must nebber put its trust. Why? Beca'se deir ways become corrupted on de yearth, and dey hab no faith. Dere was Hannibal, one of de greatest ginerals and princes dat eber libbed in de tide of umes--and a colored pussen, at dat. Why, I ain told he understud tic-tacs better dan any gineral 'ider before or sinee. Nufin could stop dat man. He laffed at de Alps, when dey shook deir frowning, awful brows at him; and he and his soldiers walk right ober dem easy as nuthin. But nobody could put any faith in him. He cheated ebery body as soon as he got a chauce. And den what become ob all his glory when de Lord struck him down? Oh, my bruddern, it was no whar. And dere was Julius Caesar, one ob de greatest ob de carthly princes. He, de shake ob whose foot made de vearth to tremble wid all his greatnees nobody trusted him. Dey thought he was a friend ob de people, and yet he was deir greates: enemy. And how did de Lord punsh him? Let de awful groan dat went up from de feet of Pompey's statue where he fell, answer. And den comning down to de modern times dere was Gineral Taylor, de great Amnerican prince, de great hero who wade waist-deep in blood upon de Mexican battle-fields. Dey made dis man of war President ob dis grate nation, and his heart swell big witn pride; and like Nebuchadnezzar, he said 'Is not dis de great Babylon dat I have builded ?' Could dey trust him ? Let de disap'inted applicauts lor office anser dis pregnant question ; dey who he had promnised ebery ting to, and yet guv'em nothing! And how did de Lord eave him ? In all his pride of place, de man dat Santa Anna could p't kill, was killed bv de contemptible instrument o cherries and milk!' David killed de great Goliah wid de simple, smooth stone out ob de humble brook : and Death strike Gineral Taylor, by too much eating ob cherries and milk !- Knickerbocker.