In the Brush | Project Gutenberg (2024)

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IN THE BRUSH;

OR,

OLD-TIME SOCIAL, POLITICAL, AND RELIGIOUS LIFEIN THE SOUTHWEST.

BY

REV. HAMILTON W. PIERSON, D.D.,

EX-PRESIDENT OF CUMBERLAND COLLEGE, KENTUCKY;
AUTHOR OF "JEFFERSONAT MONTICELLO";
CORRESPONDING MEMBER OF THE NEWYORK HISTORICAL SOCIETY, ETC.

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY W.L. SHEPPARD.

NEW YORK:

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY,

1, 3, AND 5 BOND STREET.

1881.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.

WHY I RELATE MY EXPERIENCES IN THE SOUTHWEST.—INTRODUCTORY.

On a visit to New York, many years ago, after the first few monthsof my ministerial labors in the wilds of the Southwest, I met a warmpersonal friend, a genial, generous, noble Christian woman, who at oncesaid to me:

"And so you are a Western missionary. Well, do tell me if anythingstrange or funny ever did happen to a missionary.Mother has taken the home-missionary papers ever since I was a child,and I always read them; and I often wonder if anything strangeor funny did ever happen to a Western missionary."

I had recently spent three happy years in the Union TheologicalSeminary in that city, and had come back to attend the heart-stirringanniversaries, held in those days in the old Broadway Tabernacle, andto meet again the many friends who had followed[Pg 2] me in my labors withtheir kind wishes and their prayers. Though nearly thirty years havepassed since I received that greeting, I have never forgotten, andhave very often recalled it. And I have as often thought that it wasmost natural that the churches and people at large who send forth andsustain the heroic laborers who are toiling in the varied departmentsof Christian effort in our newer States and Territories, should desirea much fuller account of their daily lives and labors. As many of themtravel extensively, and see pioneer border-life in all its aspectsand phases, I have thought it most natural and reasonable that thepeople should desire to know more of their adventures; more of theircontact with the rough, whole-souled people with whom they so oftenmeet and mingle; more of that strange compound of energy, recklessness,and daring, the hardy hosts who erect their log-cabins and fell theforests in the van of our American civilization, in its triumphantwestward march. Only one day in seven is set apart as sacred time,and only a few hours of that day are devoted to what are generallyregarded as spiritual duties. A description of these duties alone,whether performed on Sabbath-days or week-days, is a very inadequatedescription of missionary life as a whole. In order to perform theseduties, a man must eat and drink, take care of his body, mingle withthe world, and meet all his responsibilities as a man and a citizen.

[Pg 3]

In the pages that follow it will be my purpose to present a portraitureof ministerial life in the wilds of the Southwest, in all its aspectsand phases, exactly as I found it. I shall attempt to portray week-daylife as well as Sunday life. I shall describe scenes of wonderful andthrilling religious interest, and the most common and homely incidentsof every-day life, and, as far as possible, give an idea of my lifeas a whole. I shall attempt to describe the politicians, preachers,and people; the country in which they live, their manners andcustoms, their barbecues, basket-meetings, and weddings, and all thepeculiarities of their open, free, and genial home-life in itssocial, political, and religious aspects and relations. In this I shallbe successful only so far as I succeed in perfectly describing theirlife and my own during the many years that I mingled with them.

My lady friend and questioner, to whom I have referred, was slightlymistaken in calling me a "missionary." I was not one in name. At thetime of my graduation from the Theological Seminary, I was underappointment as a missionary of the American Board of Commissionersfor Foreign Missions to West Africa; but hæmorrhages from my lungsprevented my entrance upon that work.

After extended travels by sea and land for nearly five years, I had sofar recovered my voice as to be able to preach, and was very anxiousto be about my[Pg 4] chosen life-work. But my physicians—Dr. Gurdon Buck,Dr. Alfred C. Post, and Dr. John H. Swett, of the University MedicalCollege—as kind as they were distinguished and skillful, told methat I would never be able to perform the duties of a settled pastor;that the study, labor, and care of such a life would completely breakdown my health in a very few months. They told me that I must engagein some labor that would give me a large amount of exercise in theopen air; and that if it involved horseback-riding it would be allthe better for my health, and probably give me more years in whichto labor. I accordingly accepted an agency from the American BibleSociety, which involved the exploration on horseback of the wildregions in the Southwest described in this volume. In addition tovery extended travels by steamboat up and down many of the larger andsmaller Southwestern and Southern rivers, I have ridden a great manythousand miles on horseback—I have no means of telling how many. Fora long time I rode my horse several thousands of miles yearly. BishopKavenaugh, of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, in introducing me,as an agent of the American Bible Society, to a Southwestern conferenceover which he was presiding, told them that, "although a Presbyterian,"I had "out-itinerated the Itineracy itself."

I spent a night with the Governor of a Southwestern State, at the houseof his sister, who was the[Pg 5] wife of an Episcopal clergyman. We lodgedin the same room, occupying separate beds, as was very common in thatregion. The Governor was genial and social, and we conversed until longafter midnight. We talked of the hills, valleys, and mountains, offamilies and communities, of the customs, manners, and peculiarities ofdifferent classes of people, over a very wide portion of the State. AsI was about to leave in the morning, the Governor said to me:

"Sir, you know more about this State, and more people init, than any man I ever saw."

I replied: "I am surprised, Governor, to hear you make that statement.I know that politicians canvass the State most thoroughly; that you areexpected to make speeches in every county, and in as many neighborhoodsas possible; and that you try to shake hands with as many as you canof those that you expect and wish to vote for you. As you were bornand educated in the State, and have canvassed it so thoroughly andsuccessfully, I supposed that you knew a great deal more about it, anda great many more people in it, than I do."

"I do not," he replied, very positively, "and I never saw a man in mylife who did."

I state these facts as my reason and justification for writing thisbook; that my readers may understand that I am not a novice in regardto the things whereof I write; that I know whereof I affirm. Indeed, Iwill[Pg 6] tell them confidentially that I have obtained a "degree," one notso easily acquired as some others, and more honored in the wilds of thecountry. It is "B.B.," and means Brush-Breaker. The exposition of thefull meaning of this "degree" will explain the origin and meaning of mytitle to this book.

In attending a conference, presbytery, association, or otherecclesiastical meeting in the wilds of the country, as the old veteranand other preachers were pointed out to me by some friend, he would say:

"That is Father A——. He is an old Brush-Breaker"—and all theyounger men would press forward to shake his hand and do him honor; or,"That is Brother B——. He has broken a right smart chance of brush";or, "That is young Brother C——, wonderfully self-satisfied andconceited, as you see. The sisters have flattered him so much that hehas got the 'big head' badly. He will be sent to Brush College,to break brush a year or two, and will come back humbled, and will makea laborious and useful man"; or, "That is our devoted and beloved youngBrother D——. His soul is all on fire with love for his Master, andhe will thank God for the privilege of going anywhere in the Brush topreach and sing of Jesus and his salvation."

This use of the word Brush enters largely into the figuresof speech of the people of the Southwest. On one occasion I hearda Methodist bishop preach on[Pg 7] a Sabbath morning to a very largecongregation, composed of the Conference, the people of the village,and the visitors in attendance. During the first half of his sermon,which was extemporaneous, he did not preach with his accustomedclearness and power. His thoughts were evidently very much confused,and it was rather painful than otherwise to witness his struggle toget the mastery of his mind and subject. But he accomplished this atlength, and closed his sermon with great power and effect. In returningfrom church, a young circuit-rider said to me:

"Didn't you think the Bishop got badly brushed in the first partof his sermon? I sometimes get so brushed in my sermons that I think Iwill never try to preach again. It's a comfort to a beginner to knowthat an old preacher sometimes gets brushed."

Figurative language of this kind abounded among the people of theSouthwest, and was very expressive. These provincialisms had usuallygrown out of the peculiar life and habits of the people. Many ofthem seem to have originated in the perils of early flat-boatnavigation—when they were accustomed to float down-stream by daylight,and tie up to some stump or tree for the night! Woe betide the cargo,boat, and crew, if that to which they had "made fast" failed them inthe darkness of the night! Hence, as I suppose, this provincialism.

If I made inquiries in regard to the character of a[Pg 8] man who had beenrecommended to me for a Bible distributor, I was not told that he was areliable or an unreliable man, but, "He'll do to tie to," or "He won'tdo to tie to"; and if the case was particularly bad, "He won't do totie to in a calm, let alone a storm." As there were so many perils inthis kind of navigation, those were regarded as extremely fortunate whor*ached their destination in safety, and could send back word that theyhad made the trip; hence, "to make the trip" was a universal synonymfor success. And so, when a novice attempted to make a speech, preach asermon, address a jury, or engage in any kind of business, the peoplepredicted his success or failure by saying, "He'll make the trip," or"He won't make the trip." They never said of a young man, or an oldwidower, that he was addressing or courting a lady, but, "He is settingto her," a figure of speech derived from bird-hunting with setter-dogs,as I suppose. When such a suit had been unsuccessful, they did not saythe lady rejected or "mittened" her suitor, but, "She kicked him." Thefirst time I ever heard that figure used was at a social gatheringin Richmond, Virginia, in 1843, where the belle of the evening was aMiss Burfoot. After being introduced to her by a friend, he told meconfidentially that she had recently "kicked" Mr. H——, a gentlemanpresent, to whom he had already introduced me. To be "kicked" by aBurfoot seemed to me a more than usually striking figure.[Pg 9] When manypersons were striving for the same object, or where there were rivalaspirants for the heart and hand of the same lady, they said of thesuccessful one, "The tallest pole takes the persimmon."

I was once present at an ecclesiastical meeting in the Brush, wheremotions of different kinds were piled upon each other, until thegreatest confusion prevailed as to the state of the question beforethe body, and the moderator was appealed to to give his decision inthe matter. I did not fully comprehend his decision, but it was clearand satisfactory to the body over which he was presiding, all of whom,like himself, were old and experienced hunters. Arising to his feet, asbecame a presiding officer thus appealed to, and lifting his tall, lankform until his head was among the rafters of the low log school-house,he hesitated a moment, and then said, "Brethren, my decision is thatyou are all ahead of the hounds."

These are but specimens of the figurative language—theprovincialisms—that abound among the people of the Southwest.

I do not, therefore, in the pages that follow, speak of my travelsin the "wilderness" or "forests" or "hills" or "mountains" of theSouthwest, but adopt a more comprehensive term, universally prevalentin the regions explored, and describe some of my experiences in theBrush.

Though I commenced my labors in the South as[Pg 10] a general agentand superintendent of the colporteur operations of the AmericanTract Society in 1843—ten years before my first visit to theSouthwest—though I became acquainted with its home-life, asthat life could only be learned, by such extended horseback travels,and such religious labors, prosecuted with all the energy and allthe enthusiasm of early vigorous manhood, I shall devote this volumeto descriptions of home-life in the Southwest. My reasonsfor this will be obvious and approved at a glance. Very little thatwould be new can now be written of the old-time home-life in theSouth. The fascinating and beautiful descriptions of Southern sociallife given us in the letters of Hon. William Wirt, the distinguishedAttorney-General of the United States, in his "British Spy"; the fulland minute biographies of Washington, Jefferson, Patrick Henry, andothers, so exhaustive of every feature of this life; with the matchlessdescriptions of the inimitable Thackeray, and other later writers,leave very little to be said in illustration of this theme. But thetrue, the real old-time social, political, and religious home-life ofthe people of the Southwest is almost unknown to the great mass ofthe American people. Comparatively little has been written which isthe result of extended personal contact with, and intimate personalknowledge of, the people. They have been largely the subjects ofexaggeration and caricature.

In this field I have garnered many rich and golden[Pg 11] sheaves, whereno other reaper had ever thrust in the sickle. Here I have drawnword-pictures of many scenes in the social life of a generation, anda state of civilization, rapidly passing away, never to reappear,that otherwise would have had no memorial only as perpetuated inthe traditions of the people. I will only add that I am indebted tono library, to no book, not even to a newspaper, for a single factpresented in this volume. They were all gathered incidentally whilelaboriously engaged in the duties of my profession, as a general agentof the American Bible Society, and while traveling for years in theinterests of the college over which I was called to preside. They allrelate to the ante-bellum period in the history of our country.

MY OUTFIT FOR MY LIFE IN THE BRUSH.

Having received my commission as an agent for the American BibleSociety, and completed my preparations for entering upon my work as faras I could do so in New York, I left that city for one of the importantcities of the Southwest, which was to be my headquarters. I knew atthe outset that I could not reach the wild regions I was to explore byrailroad, steamboat, stage, or even with my own private conveyance; Iknew that I could climb hills and mountains, follow blind bridle-paths,ford rivers and swollen streams, only on horseback. I had several yearsbefore had some two years' experience in constant horseback travel inlabors similar to those I was now entering upon, as superintendent ofthe colporteur operations of the American Tract Society in Virginia.There I had floundered in the marshes and swamps of "Tidewater," andbeen lost amid the rugged rocks and dense forests high up the sidesand in the loftiest summits of the Blue Ridge and other mountains.I knew that I[Pg 13] must have a horse. This was indispensable. More thanthat, I wanted a good horse, a horse broken expressly for the saddle.To be churned for years—bump, bump, bump—upon a hard-trotting horse,that was out of the question with me. I had but a small stock ofhealth and physical strength at best, and none to spare in that way.My old friend Rev. Dr. Sprole, then of Washington, D.C., afterwardof West Point, New York, and now of Detroit, Michigan, used to tellme, in Washington, that "Brother Leete," one of my co-workers in thecirculation of the publications of the American Tract Society, "was oneof the most self-denying Christians he had ever seen—in that he hadpatience to drive such a miserable old horse in transporting his booksover the hills and mountains of Pennsylvania," where he had known him.But I was not anxious to illustrate that particular type of piety. Idid not care to let my "light so shine." I wanted not only agood saddle-horse, but a faithful, reliable animal. I wanted one that Icould hitch to the limb of a tree, in the midst of scores or hundredsof other horses, and leave there without any concern, while I preachedin a log meeting-house, or at a "stand" erected in a grove at somecross-roads, or at a camp-meeting, or wherever else I should be able tomeet and address the people. I wanted a hardy horse, that could live onthe coarsest food, and stand during the coldest nights in log stablesthat afforded but a little[Pg 14] more protection from the wind and cold thana rail fence. I wanted an easy-going, fleet horse, that would take me,without great personal fatigue or needless waste of time, over a wideextent of country. I wanted a horse that would scare at nothing—that,as I had opportunity, I could lead up a plank or two, on board a noisystern-wheel or other Western steamer, along the banks of the rivers,across wharf-boats, or wherever I might wish to embark for a hundredmiles or more to save a few days of horseback travel.

The "qualities" that I looked for in a horse were numerous and rare.I was so fortunate as to find one that possessed all that I haveenumerated and many more. Was I not fortunate? Was I wrong in regardingmy good fortune as a special providence? But I did not easily find thistreasure. It was after a long search and many failures. Unable to findsuch a horse as I was willing to purchase at once, I determined toenter upon my work and get along for a time as best I could.

I therefore took stage for a point about fifty miles from headquarters,where, after a conference with the officers of the County BibleSociety, I procured a horse for several days in order to plunge intothe Brush, make a circuit of the county, and preach at a number ofplaces in accordance with a programme that their familiarity with thecountry enabled them to[Pg 15] make out for me. They arranged to send myappointments ahead to all these points but one, where I was to preachthe next day, which was the Sabbath.

I will here state that the great object of my mission to the Brush wasto effect a thorough exploration of the field assigned to me, and,either by sale or gift, supply every family with a copy of the Bible,except such as positively declined to receive it. To accomplish this,I wished to gain personal knowledge of each county, to preach at asmany points as possible, in order to give information in regard to thecharacter and operations of the American Bible Society and the workto be done, collect as much money as possible to meet the expenses ofthis work, find and employ suitable men to canvass the counties andvisit without fail every family, and then order a supply of Biblesand Testaments from the Society's house in New York, give them theirinstructions, and set them at work. Such was my mission.

Saturday, after dinner, I mounted my horse for a ride of thirteen milesto a small county-seat village where I was to spend the Sabbath. Thecountry was rough and broken, with light, sandy soil, sparsely coveredwith small, scrubby oak-trees, called "black-jacks," and the region ofcountry was known as the "Barrens." It was barren enough. The houseswere mostly poor and comfortless, the barns small log structures, withno stables, sheds, or covering of any kind for the cattle.[Pg 16] They werepoor and scrawny, and their backs described a section of a semicircleas they drew themselves into as much of a heap as possible—their onlyprotection against the bleak February winds. The swine were of theoriginal "root-hog-or-die" variety, their long, well-developed snoutsbeing their most prominent feature. Occasionally black, dirty, raggedslaves—"uncles," "aunties," and their children—revealed the whitesof their eyes and their shining ivory as they stared earnestly at therare sight of a passing stranger. No one, with the kindest heart andthe most amiable disposition, would be able to pronounce the countryattractive or the ride a pleasant one. On arriving at the village, Irode to a very plain house to which I had been directed, and received amost warm and cordial welcome. Large pine-knots were soon blazing androaring in the ample fireplace to relieve me of the most wretchedlydisagreeable of all sensations of cold—those of a damp, clammy,chilly winter day in the Southwest. As soon as it could possibly beprepared, I was seated with the family at a bountiful supper. Thearoma of the richest coffee was afloat in the air, and the rarest offried chicken and hot corn-bread were smoking before me, flanked witha superabundance of other dishes, that showed the perfect countryhousekeeper.

My host and hostess were Presbyterians, and this was the reception theygladly gave to any minister[Pg 17] who visited them in their seclusion, andpreached for their little church. The bell was rung, and I preachedthat (Saturday) night to a very small audience who assembled at thisbrief notice. The church stood within a very few rods of the spot whereAbraham Lincoln was born.

On Sabbath morning a somewhat larger congregation assembled from thevillage and country around, including some from the homes I had passedthe day before, and I made a full exposition of the character andoperations of the American Bible Society, explained the work about tobe undertaken in their own county, and made as urgent and eloquent anappeal as I was able to, for funds to supply their own poor with theBible, and meet the expenses of this benevolent and Christian work.To adopt the language universal in all this region, they "lifted acollection" for me which amounted to six dollars and eighty-fivecents. At 3 P.M. I heard a sermon preached by the clergyman,my kind friend and host at the other county-seat, who, according toarrangement, came over to spend the Sabbath with me, and fill a regularappointment. At night I preached for them again. Altogether it was tome a very pleasant day.

Monday morning I rode back to the county-seat. There was a hardrain-storm, and I got very wet. Tuesday morning I started on apreaching tour of several days, to fulfill the appointments that hadbeen[Pg 18] made for me. I traveled several miles to see an old man who hadbeen recommended for a colporteur to canvass the county; was pleasedwith him, and he was afterward employed. After dinner he piloted methrough rough, broken barrens, such as I have already described, tothe place where I was to preach that night. We reached there, but my"appointment" had not. I did not wonder it had lost its way. I lostmine a good many times that week. However, we learned that the next daywas the regular appointment for the Methodist preacher who rode thatcircuit, and I would then have an opportunity to address the people.We spent the night very comfortably with Brother H——, to whom I hadbeen directed, who belonged to the class of farmers or planters knownamong these people as "not rich, but good livers." In other portionsof the country he would have been spoken of as a man "in comfortablecirc*mstances." Wednesday morning we rode to a small Methodist chapelbearing the name of my host. His house had for years been the homewhere laborious and self-denying itinerant preachers, often hungry,wet, and weary, had found most welcome and needed refreshment andrest. A kind Providence has dotted the wilds of the country with manysuch hospitable homes—I have often found them and enjoyed theircheer—whose owners, more rich in generous, noble impulses than inworldly goods, have thus laid up treasures in[Pg 19] heaven, the exceedingriches and abundance of which they will only fully comprehend and enjoywhen they hear the approving—"Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one ofthe least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me." On arrivingat the chapel, which was a small, unplastered frame building, I wasintroduced by my host to Brother M——, the "preacher in charge," andreceived from him an old itinerant's cordial shake of the hand andwelcome to his circuit. After a few moments' conversation he thrusthis arm into mine, as though we had been acquainted for years, andwe strolled off among the black-jacks to await the arrival of thecongregation.

"What church do you belong to, Brother P——?" said he.

"I am a Presbyterian, sir," I responded.

"I am glad to hear it, glad to hear it," said he. "Brother Y——,the last agent of the Bible Society, was a Methodist, and we've hadMethodist agents a good while. I am glad there is a change. I heardthere would be, at Conference. All our brethren will be glad to see andwelcome you."

As Brother M—— was the first real itinerant that I met on hiscircuit deep in the Brush, I will present him a little more fully tomy readers. He wore on his head, drawn well down over his ears andeyes, a cheap cloth cap, badly soiled and faded. I do not now recallthe color of his coat. I remember that it was of[Pg 20] coarse material andragged, with a particularly large rent under one of the armholes. Hispantaloons were genuine butternut-colored jeans. I have no doubt thatthe cloth was the gift of some good sister, woven in her own loom,and all that she was able to give in making up his scanty salary. Themost of the audience, both men and women, were clothed in the samehome-made material. For myself, I was dressed in all respects as Ihad been the last time I had preached in New York. I did not like thecontrast between myself and the congregation; and on my return to thecity I laid aside my entire black suit, and procured a second-handsnuff-colored overcoat, costing eight dollars, jean pantaloons, and asoft hat, in which I felt much more at ease on my next return to theBrush. To anticipate a little, I will say that in my desire to carryout the Pauline example in becoming all things to all men, I went alittle too far; for I wore my Brush suit to Conference, where I metthis same preacher, and scores of his brethren with whom I had becomeacquainted, dressed in black, and presenting a contrast quite to mydisadvantage. I had, however, gone there on horseback, traveling andpreaching through the wildest brush country, with only such changesof clothing as I could carry in my saddle-bags. If I was a littlemortified at my personal appearance when the presiding elder introducedme to the venerable bishop, and he introduced me to the Conference,[Pg 21]and they all arose to their feet to do me honor, and welcome me asthe representative of the American Bible Society, I had at least thissatisfaction, that with the large audience present my dress would dosomething to correct the popular impression, very widely prevalent inthe Brush, that "Presbyterian ministers preach for good clothes."

One by one the small congregation arrived at the chapel—men, women,and children—on horseback. When they had all assembled, we went in,and I preached, and they "lifted a collection" amounting to threedollars and twenty-five cents. After dining with Brother M——, ata house near by, I mounted my horse for a long ride, to reach myappointment for the night. My kind friends gave me a great manydirections, and I started out. There was nothing worthy of the nameof a public road. There were wagon-tracks and paths running in alldirections among the black-jacks, and crossing each other at allangles. Whenever, for a short distance, there was a fence on both sidesof a road, that was called a "lane." One track would lead meto the back side of a tobacco-patch, where it ended; another led mewhere some rails had been "mauled" and recently hauled away. The roadsleading to plantations were more worn, and looked more like the "maintraveled road," than those that were intended for public highways. Iinquired my way at each plantation that I passed, and every[Pg 22] otheropportunity; and these were far too rare for my wants. Once I saw, froman elevation, a peach-tree in bloom in the distance. It was like thehuman footprint in the sand to Robinson Crusoe on his lonely island.I said, "There is a sign of humanity," and started for it. But when Ireached it the log-cabin near which it was planted was empty, and Istarted out again into the labyrinths of paths. Often that afternoon,and oftener in the years that followed, when I have been lost in theBrush, I exclaimed, "Blessed be the man that devised our nationalsystem of 'sectional surveys'!" I do not know what man or men devisedit, but I do know that the country owes him or them a debt of gratitudeit can never pay. Where section-lines are established, there roadsare located, roads running at right angles, and school-districts,townships, and larger communities have definite boundaries; and everyneighborhood and farm may have the benefit of established and goodroads. These barrens, like vast regions of country over which I havetraveled, never had the benefit of such a survey. The original settlershad found places where the land, timber, water, etc., suited them,and had measured off, perhaps with a pole or grape-vine, hundreds orthousands of acres in any shape their fancy directed—their surveysoften overlapping each other at various points. Hence interminablelawsuits in regard to boundaries, and the greater calamity of havingno established lines for a[Pg 23] uniform system of roads. A learned authorhas said, "You may judge the civilization of a country by its roads."If this is a true criterion, there is a vast extent of country overwhich I have traveled, in the Southwest and South, that will take avery low rank in the scale of civilization. I remember one man in theBrush who told me he had raised that year three hogsheads of tobacco,but the roads were so bad that the transportation of his crop, sixtymiles to market, had cost him one hogshead of tobacco—one third of theproceeds of his summer's work! One of the most prominent causes of thedevelopment and growth of our Western States is the manner in whichthey were surveyed, and their system of roads; one of the greatesthindrances to the prosperity of other and large sections of our countryis that they have had no such survey, and are not likely to have anysuch roads.

I reached the house of Mr. R——, to whom I was directed, soon aftersundown, and learned that my appointment had reached him, and hewas expecting me. He at once gave orders to his boys to get theshellbark-hickory torches that they had provided to light us home,and without dismounting he led my way, on foot, about a mile, to anunpainted, unplastered, barnlike-looking building, known as "BlueKnobs Church." A few tallow-candles shed their glimmering raysupon the upturned faces of the not large audience that listenedto my description of the Bible House, its numerous[Pg 24] presses, andvast facilities for publishing the Bible; and, in response to myappeal for funds for the noble cause I represented, they "lifted acollection" amounting to ninety-four cents. In the light of the torchesthoughtfully provided for me, I climbed up the sides of the knob—thehigher elevations of land in this region are called "knobs"—to thehome of my host. Supper was now prepared for the family and myself; andI learned that it was the custom of the people to defer supper untilthis hour, whenever they had meetings at night.

Fairly seated in the house, I saw such a group of little children as Ihad never seen before, belonging to one family. We had not talked longbefore the father volunteered an explanation. He told me his wife haddied, leaving nine children, one but a few days old. Not many monthsafter, he had married a young widow with three children, as young ashis three youngest, and one had been born since their marriage. Of thethirteen present, the majority were under five years old. Subsequently,in my travels, I spent a night with a family where there was a largenumber of young children, and I asked the mother the age of the eldestand the youngest. The eldest would be six years old the next June; theyoungest was six weeks old. She had six healthy children, that had beenborn in less than six years, and none of them were twins.

On Thursday I started early in the morning and[Pg 25] rode through a countrythat differed but little from that through which I had passed theday before, to the place of my appointment. On going to the hall ofthe secret society, where I was to preach, I learned that it was thenight of their regular weekly meeting, and they could not yield theirroom to me. Such collisions are not unfrequent in the Brush, and thepeople describe them by a very striking figure of speech, which givessome idea of their sports and tastes. They say of them that "theappointments locked horns." I did not care to test the strength of myneck, and therefore, as was altogether proper in the circ*mstances,did not preach. That night I slept in the loft of a log-cabin. It wasentirely unceiled, and the roof was so low that I had to stoop to makemy way to my bed; and when in it I could easily place my hands uponthe roof-boards and rafters. The openings between the logs affordedabundant ventilation. In the morning, I found such conveniences as wereafforded for washing, not in my room, but out-of-doors, at the side ofthe well. Afterward, I slept in hundreds of such cabin-lofts—sleptin them until the sight of smoky, dingy roof-boards and rafters waswellnigh as familiar a sight on opening my eyes in the morning, as thesky overhead when I went to the well to wash, sometimes in a basinor dish, but often by having the water poured upon my hands from agourd. I remember one occasion when, after traveling[Pg 26] for weeks in theBrush, I arrived at a small county-seat village, and spent the nightin a new building that had recently been erected for a young ladies'seminary. In the morning, as I opened my eyes, they were greeted withthe sight of new white-plastered walls above and around me. The sightwas so rare that it thrilled me with joy. The smooth, clean plasterseemed absolutely beautiful. I have never since experienced moredelightful sensations in gazing upon the most magnificent paintings. Ican see now the new, cheap bedstead, the clean sheets, the blue-calicowindow-curtains, the white walls, and recall the sensations of intensepleasure that they inspired. It was as if I had slept for weeks in adungeon, and awoke in the most delightful home.

On Friday morning I started early again, and by a most difficult andcrooked route through the "barrens," made my way to the residence of"Uncle Billy H——," to whose hospitality I had been commended. Here Ifound a brick house on a turnpike-road, and "Uncle Billy" was a "goodliver." He went with me at night to a small church, located upon astream, near a grist-mill, and I preached, and "lifted a collection"amounting to four dollars and five cents.

On Saturday morning, my appointments for the week being all fulfilled,I took the turnpike and started for the county-seat. I was never sograteful for a good road, and never so willing and glad to pay toll.

[Pg 27]

At various points along the "pike," as it was universally called, I sawtracks leading off into the woods, and was told that they were known as"shunpikes," and that some people in traveling would take these and gothrough the woods around the toll-gates, in order to avoid paying toll.I had not the slightest disposition to perpetrate that immorality andmeanness. I stuck to the pike as one would to an old friend and guide,after having been bewildered and lost in the most perilous ways. It wascomfortable not to be asking and getting "directions" that were a gooddeal more incomprehensible and past finding out than the blind roadsand paths I was trying to follow. I was most happy to be freed from thedisagreeable feelings of uncertainty and anxiety as to whether or notI was in the right road or path, and was making progress in the rightdirection, or I should be obliged to retrace my steps. As I rode onthus, dark clouds rolled up the sky and it began to rain. I unstrappedmy umbrella from my saddle, and, as I spread it, my horse, that hadseemed as gentle as any horse could be, shot from under me with amovement so sudden and swift, that I struck but once on his rump,rolled off behind him, and he went tearing into the woods at the sideof the "pike." I never could understand how my feet were disentangledfrom the stirrups, and how I fell upon the hard turnpike-road withoutbeing hurt at all. But I know that that kind[Pg 28] Protector was with me whohas preserved me through so many years of travel upon oceans, lakes,rivers, and during unnumbered thousands of miles of travel by railroad,stage, and on horseback, over the roughest and wildest portions ofthe land, without ever suffering a more serious accident than this. Ifollowed my horse into the woods, but could not find him, and walkedabout four miles to the village in the rain.

After dinner, my kind clerical friend and host rode with me severalmiles to find my horse, and my saddle-bags that he had carried into thewoods with him, but our search was in vain. At night, after our return,a black boy—a slave—who had found my horse in the woods, brought himto me, and received his reward. The saddle-bags I never found. Morethan all else I regretted the loss of my small Bible, that had been myconstant companion during all my school-days, and in all my travels bysea and by land for many years before.

Sunday was a cold, rainy, cheerless day. I preached to a very smallcongregation that assembled in the morning, and "lifted a collection"amounting to nine dollars and five cents. In the afternoon and at nightit rained so hard that there were no public services.

Monday, I spent the forenoon with the officers of the county BibleSociety, instructing them in their duties and aiding them in writingtheir reports. In the afternoon I attended a funeral that was lesslike a[Pg 29] funeral than any I had ever witnessed, and seemed more strangeto me than anything I had yet seen. The clergyman invited me to gowith him to the graveyard, where he had engaged to be present at theburial. The funeral party was from the country. The coffin was conveyedin a large farm-wagon drawn by six mules. The mud was very deep andvery red. The family and neighbors followed on horseback, a stragglingcompany, attempting to maintain no semblance of a procession or anykind of order. The women were dressed as I have since seen thousandsof Brush-women dressed. They had long riding-skirts made of coarsecotton-factory cloth, dyed the inevitable butternut-color. Theirbonnets were of the simplest possible construction, made of any kindof calico, stiffened and bent over the top of the head in such form asto protect the neck, and project a long distance beyond the face, andusually called "sun-bonnets." The company all rode as near the grave asthey conveniently could, and with the exception of those who officiatedin lowering the coffin into the grave, they all sat upon their horseswhile the clergyman performed his brief religious services. Therewere no sable mourning-weeds. The contrast in colors and dress fromthose usually seen at a funeral, as well as in all the forms generallyobserved on such an occasion, impressed me very strangely. On anotheroccasion I attended a funeral where the company followed after thecorpse in the[Pg 30] same straggling manner, though the most of them were onfoot, and on their way to the graveyard they climbed the fences andwent across-lots by a shorter route, leaving the hearse to go aroundthe road, and they were at the grave to receive and bury the corpsewhen the hearse arrived. This was not from any want of respect, for theperson buried was a college graduate and lawyer. It was simply theirway of doing things.

On Tuesday, having completed all my arrangements for the explorationand supply of the county with Bibles, I took stage and returnedto headquarters. As from time to time I received the reports ofthe Bible-distributor, and learned of the amount sold, and of thelarge number of families destitute who gladly received as a giftthis inestimable treasure, I felt that in all my toils and personalprivations in thus exploring the Brush, I had not labored in vain norspent my strength for naught. In the great day, when all the goodresults of these labors shall be revealed, I know that there will be nocause for regret, but much for joy.

I was now better prepared than ever before to understand just whatI needed and all that I needed to complete my outfit for the Brush.My experience in horseback-riding had been particularly instructiveon this subject. After somewhat extended but fruitless search andinquiry for a horse, such as I needed[Pg 31] in that vicinity, I took steamerfor a great horse-market a hundred and fifty miles distant. Here Ifound great droves of horses, in vast stables, attended by scores ofjockeys, all wide awake and eager to show me the very article that Iwanted. I went from stable to stable, looked at a good many, heardthe most satisfactory statements from their voluble owners in regardto the qualities of those that were brought out and submitted to myspecial inspection, mounted some of them and rode a short distance totest their qualities, but did not purchase. Indeed, I became entirelysatisfied that I was not as verdant in regard to horse-flesh as from mypale looks and clerical appearance they generally took me to be. Thougha clergyman, and the son of a clergyman, my father had penetrated thewilderness of Western New York, purchased a farm, and erected hislog-cabin west of the Genesee River in 1807, when there was but asingle log-house where Rochester now stands. Hence, from my childhoodI had enjoyed the invaluable advantages of farm-life and labors. I hadridden colts, driven and worked horses, and learned what is hardlyworth less in the future battle of life than all that is acquired incollege and professional schools.

While looking through these large stables I heard of a horse thathad been sent to a stable to be sold on account of some changes inthe family of the owner. I went and looked at her, and was greatly[Pg 32]pleased. I mounted her, rode a few miles, and returned perfectlysatisfied and delighted. In a short time I paid the price asked, andwas her happy owner. It was love at first sight, love that neverfailed, but grew stronger and stronger through all the years thatwe journeyed together. I took her on board the steamer with me, andreturned to headquarters. Next I procured saddle, bridle, halter,spurs, leggins, and saddle-bags. For leggins I bought a yard and ahalf of butternut jean, which was cut into two equal parts, and thebuttons and button-holes so arranged that I could wrap them tightlyaround my legs from a short distance above my knees, and button themon. They were secured from slipping down by a pair of strings whichwere wound about the legs both above and below the knees, in such amanner as not to interfere with their free movement in either riding orwalking. A good deal of skill, as well as a good deal of awkwardness,may be displayed in putting on and tying on a pair of leggins; andwhen a man displays unusual facility and skill in this matter inhis travels through the Brush, he is at once taken to be either anitinerant preacher—or a horse-thief. In long horseback journeys theseleggins are invaluable as a protection against mud, rain, and cold. Ihave traveled over the muddiest roads, many days and weeks, when, onarriving at the house of some hospitable friend, I was so completelybespattered and covered with mud[Pg 33] that I looked very much like theroads through which I had been traveling; but, on taking off my legginsand overcoat, I laid aside the most of the mud with them, and sopresented a very respectable appearance.

But the saddle-bags were indispensable. In them I carried all thechanges in my wardrobe, and all such articles for my personal comfortas one can have whose home is on horseback; together with such reports,documents, and papers, as were indispensable to me in the prosecutionof my labors. With a large blanket-shawl rolled compactly together, andstrapped with my umbrella behind my saddle upon a pad attached to itfor this purpose, I was prepared to travel without any regard to rainor weather.

Behold me, then, with my new and complete outfit, mounted andstarting for the Brush, in a broad-brimmed white hat, snuff-coloredovercoat, butternut-dyed pantaloons, leggins, heavy boots, and spurs.My saddle-bags were thrown across the saddle, and my blanket-shawland umbrella strapped behind it. As I rode out of the city into thecountry, I met a countryman on his way to town, who greeted me with apleasant "How d'y, sir?" and, as he scanned with a pleasant face myoutfit, he added, "Traveling, sir?" A countryman, and to the "mannerborn," that was his quick recognition and approval of the perfectionand completeness of my outfit for the Brush. Two negroes, who werefelling a huge tree in the[Pg 34] dense forest at the roadside, paused intheir labor, and manifested their approval with a broad African grin,and "Mighty nice hoss, dat, massa!"

In my next chapter I shall make good these comments.

THE ITINERANT PIONEER PREACHER'S FAITHFUL HORSE.

I think a good horse is worthy of a niche in the temple of fame. I knowthat many men have been immortalized in song and eloquence, and hadmagnificent monuments erected to their memory, who have never done onehalf as much for the good of the world as the faithful animal I rode somany years, through the wilds of the Southwest, in the service of theAmerican Bible Society. But very few men have done as much topromote the circulation of the Word of God, "without note or comment,"as she did in those years of faithful labor.

If there be a paradise where there are purling streams, grateful shade,and fat pastures for horses that have been faithful and true, Iam sure that she has a high rank in "the noble army" of horses that insunshine and in storm, with unflagging devotion, have borne itinerantpioneer preachers through mud and rain, and sleet and snow, as withglowing, burning zeal they have prosecuted their heroic Christianlabors.[Pg 36] All honor to the itinerant's faithful horse—my own among thenumber! My very pen seems to catch new inspiration, and dance withdelight, as I attempt her eulogy.

In fact, she shrank from no toil in the prosecution of this good work.She never kept me from fulfilling an appointment by refusing to forda river. She never hesitated to enter any canebrake it was necessaryfor me to cross, and, though the canes were ever so thick and tangled,and resisted her progress like so many ropes or cords around herbreast, yet she pressed carefully and firmly against them, until theyyielded to her power, and we emerged safely from the thicket. She neverflinched from climbing the steepest mountain-paths, where I had to holdon to her mane with both hands to keep from sliding off behind her; andthen she would as kindly perform the more difficult feat of descendingsuch paths, stepping carefully and firmly so as not to stumble orfall, while I kept my position in the saddle by holding on to thecrupper with one hand and guiding her with the other. In a word, shenever failed or disappointed me at any time, in any place, or in anyparticular.

She was of medium size, light-sorrel color, white face, and in allrespects of admirable form and mold. She had been broken for the saddleto either pace, trot, or gallop, and each gait was about as easy andperfect as possible. In long journeys of weeks, and[Pg 37] sometimes ofmonths, her movements were always free and fleet, and by alternatingfrom one gait to another she bore me about as easily and gently as onecould well wish to be carried on horseback. But her kind, affectionatedisposition was her crowning excellence. I never hitched her and wentinto a house for a long or short stay, that she did not greet me assoon as I opened the door on my return with her affectionate whinny.She would recognize me among the congregation, as I came out of anychurch where I had preached, or wherever she could see me in thelargest gatherings of people, and always with the same warm salutation.Whenever I went to her stable in the morning, or wherever I approachedher after a brief separation, her demonstrations of affection were asstrong as they could well be without human powers.

On one occasion I rode up to the bank of a small river, very near itsmouth, and hailed the ferryman on the opposite side. While waiting forhim to cross, I led her down upon the planks which extended a shortdistance into the river, that she might drink. Wading into the water,she stepped beyond the planks and instantly sank to her breast in themud. It was the sediment that had been deposited there by numerousfreshets. As she went down the entire depth of her fore-legs in aninstant, she made one desperate effort to extricate herself, but invain. She seemed to comprehend her condition perfectly, turned to mewith[Pg 38] a beseeching look and groan, and did not make another struggle.I told her to lie still, and started on a run to get some teamsters,whom I had met with their large six-horse teams as I rode up to theriver-bank, to help me in getting her out. They kindly came to myaid, and by putting my saddle-girth under her breast, and tying ropesto each end of it, they lifted her out of the mud by main strength.When she was fairly on her feet, her demonstrations of gratitude weremost remarkable. She thanked me over and over again as plainly andstrongly as horse-language would possibly admit of, danced around mewith delight, persisted in rubbing her nose against me in the mostaffectionate manner, and showed a joy that seemed wellnigh human. Itwas warm summer weather, and on reaching the hotel on the oppositeshore I had her legs and her entire body from the tips of her ears tothe end of her tail thoroughly washed and rubbed dry. After dinner Iresumed my journey, and she was as well as ever.

Everywhere, during all the years that I traveled in the Brush, myJenny—for that was the name I gave her—made friends for herself andme. If I rode up to a house upon a plantation, hailed it according tothe custom of the country, and was welcomed to its hospitalities by theowner, he would call a negro servant:

"Ho! boy, carry this horse to the stable and take good care of her.D'ye hear?"

[Pg 39]

When I dismounted, she understood that her long day's journey wasended, and knew where she was going as well as the servant did. Whenmounted, she would start with a fleet pace that was almost as gentle inits movements as the rocking of a cradle; which would make the riderroll the white of his eyes with the supremest African delight. Veryoften I have seen them turn their faces, beaming with satisfaction,and cast back furtive glances upon groups of young Africans thatwere gazing after them with an admiration that was only equaled bytheir envy of the rider's happy lot. Before reaching the stable afriendship, if not affection, was established that insured the mostliberal allowance of "fodder" and corn, and the most thorough currying,brushing, and care. I have no doubt that on many such occasions theypromised themselves a pleasant stolen night-ride, to visit friendson some near or remote plantation, and that they did not forget orfail to make good their promises. When I sometimes had occasion toprotract my stay for several days, it was amusing to listen to thefrequent applications from young Africa to ride her to the brook andwater her. They were intensely solicitous that she should not fail toget water—or themselves rides! At all places, whether on cultivatedplantations or deep in the Brush, whether she was cared for by blackor white, she received the same kind attention. Hence she was alwaysin the best order and condition—always[Pg 40] able and ready to take methe longest journeys, through any amount of mud and mire, and over theroughest roads, wherever it was necessary for me to go. I am sure thatthe people were the more glad to see me on her account. My honoredinstructor, the venerable President Nott, of Union College, in hislectures on the "Beautiful," used to say:

"Young gentlemen, undoubtedly the two most beautiful objects in natureare a beautiful horse and a beautiful lady. I hope you will not thinkme ungallant in putting the horse before the lady." I gratified thelove of the beautiful in a fine horse, and so won their esteem andlove. But I was often as much surprised and gratified at her behaviorin her travels with me upon Western steamboats as upon land. On oneoccasion I took her on board a large New Orleans steamer with adeck-load of mules, horses, sheep, etc., and rode some two hundredmiles. I reached the place of my destination about midnight, and wasobliged to land at that hour. She was standing immediately back of thewheel-house, and on the side of the boat toward the shore. But the boatwas so loaded that I was obliged to lead her a long distance around bythe stern, past the heels of braying mules and bellowing cattle, tothe point opposite the place from which I had started; then forward,crossing the boat immediately in front of the roaring wood-fires, whichwere on the same deck, and on to the bow, where I led her down theplank on to a large[Pg 41] wharf-boat. I then led her the entire length ofthis boat, and down a long plank-way to the shore. And all this throughthe indescribable din and confusion made by mates and deck-hands inlanding freight, passengers, and baggage, and the deafening screech ofthe whistle in blowing off steam. When I took her by the bits and said,"Come, Jenny," she placed her head against my shoulder and followed meall this long, crooked, noisy route, with the confidence of a child. Ihad led her on and off a great many noisy steamers, but that was themost notable instance of all.

But my Jenny had some other qualities which I should never havediscovered had they not been made known to me by others. Elsewherein this volume I have spoken at length of my visit to a celebratedwatering-place, and of the numerous gamblers and other strangecharacters that I met there. It was in the midst of a very wild region.When I had arrived within a few hours' ride of the springs, I stoppedto dine at a house of private entertainment. A large four-horse stage,loaded with passengers bound for the springs, soon drove up and stoppedat the same house, which was the regular place of dining for thepassengers. After dinner I rode on to the springs, keeping along themost of the way in company with the stage. My Jenny attracted verymarked attention from the driver and passengers. The driver especiallywas profuse in his expressions of admiration. As I rode up to thehotel, the[Pg 42] listless, lounging visitors, who were so deep in theBrush that they had very little to attract or interest them, regardedher gait and movements with general attention and delight. When Idismounted, a black boy was soon in my saddle, and my Jenny moved offto the stable with her usual fleetness and grace. I entered the hoteland registered my name, without any prefix or suffix to indicate myemployment or profession. The weather was very hot, the roads verydusty, and after the fashion of the country I was at once furnishedwith water to wash. As I stood wiping myself, the stage-driver rushedinto the room and up to me in great excitement and said:

"Mr. Pierson, will you allow your horse to run? The money is up andwe'll have a race if you'll only allow her to run"—at the same timeholding up and shaking in my face a mass of bills that were drawnthrough his fingers, after the fashion of gamblers in those parts. Iwas startled to hear my name pronounced in a strange place, and bya stranger, but in a moment bethought me that he had learned it bylooking on the hotel-register. I was more startled by the strangenessof the proposition. As the servant stood with my saddle-bags on hisarm, waiting to show me to my room, I answered perhaps a little tooabruptly, "No, sir," and followed him to my room, to prepare forsupper. When the supper-bell rang, and I stepped out of my room uponthe piazza, a portly man of gentlemanly bearing,[Pg 43] who had evidentlytaken his position there to wait for me, approached me pleasantly andsaid:

"I hope, sir, you will reconsider your decision and allow your mareto run. As soon as you rode up I offered to bet two hundred and fiftydollars that she would outrun anything here, and the money is up. Allowme to say that I am an old Virginian, and a judge of horses, and if youwill let her run I am sure to win."

By this time I had entirely recovered my self-possession, and, bowingpolitely, I looked directly into his eyes and said:

"Do you think, sir, it will do for a Presbyterian clergyman to commencehorse-racing so soon after reaching the Springs?"

He was as much startled as I had been—in fact, so startled that hecould not say a word, and I left him without any reply, and went in tosupper. When I returned from the dining-room I found him at the door,and he approached me in the most subdued and respectful manner and said:

"Allow me to speak to you again, sir. I wish to apologize, sir; I begyour pardon, sir; I assure you, sir, that nothing would induce meknowingly to insult a clergyman."

I responded, very pleasantly:

"I am certain, sir, that no insult was intended, and therefore there isno pardon to be granted."

He thanked me very warmly for my kind construction[Pg 44] of his motives,and left me with a lighter step and brighter face. His companions wereall greatly pleased with my treatment of the matter; and, as I haveelsewhere said, there was a general turnout of all the gamblers—ofwhom he was one of the most prominent—to hear me preach in theballroom the next Sabbath. But I need not say, to any one at allfamiliar with life in the Southwest, that he had to "stand treat" allaround among his companions, for being thus, in the vernacular of thecountry, "picked up" by the preacher.

In passing through another part of this county the following winter, Irode up to a blacksmith-shop to get a shoe tightened. As soon as theblacksmith came out he said:

"Wasn't you at the Springs last summer with this mare?"

I replied in the affirmative, and, on looking at him, recognized theman that kept a little shop there, and had shod her in the summer.

"Well," said he, leaning upon her neck, patting her affectionately,and looking into vacancy with a pleased expression, as if living oversome pleasant scene in the past, "they got her out, preacher, and runher, any way." And then, as if to make the matter all right with me,he looked up into my face and said, with the most satisfied smile andemphatic nod: "And, preacher, she beat, she did. He won his money!"

During my vacation-trips to the East, for several summers, I left myhorse with some kind, warm[Pg 45] friends upon a plantation, for the ladiesand children to ride as they might wish. At first it was difficult forme to make satisfactory arrangements to leave her for several weeks.I could not trust her at a livery-stable. There I felt sure she wouldget a great many stolen rides. I found also that the temptation wastoo great for the virtue of some professed friends with whom I lefther, for on my return I found she had been overridden, and looked wornrather than rested from the vacation I had intended for her as wellas myself. But in my travels I found a lady from my native State, NewYork, who had gone South as a teacher, and married a planter. Therewas a slight disparity in their ages. I would not take oath as to theexact difference, but I heard a good many times that, when married, shewas nineteen and he forty-nine. If that was so, the marriage furnishedconfirmation of the popular talk and notions concerning "an old man'sdarling." He was certainly as kind and indulgent as a husband couldwell be. She was a Presbyterian and he a Baptist. He was kind andgenial, and full of vivacity and life, and loved to entertain me ashis "wife's preacher," and for her sake, as well as to gratify his ownwarm social instincts. Here, at each return for years, I ever foundthe warmest welcome and the kindest home. To her my visits were likethose of an old friend, for, when far away from the companions andscenes of early life, the ties that unite[Pg 46] those from the same Statebecome strong and endearing. But far stronger than this is the bondthat unites members of different churches to their own clergymen, andespecially when they but rarely enjoy their ministrations. Gifted,intelligent, and full of energy, and also sympathizing deeply withthe object of my Christian toils and labors, she spared no pains tomake her house what it ever was to me, a delightful resting-place andhome. A large, fine chamber always awaited me, to which they gave myname, and here I spent many delightful hours. I brought to them manytales of my adventures in the Brush, for which my host had the keenestappreciation, and I heard from him many accounts of preachers andpreaching he had known and heard that are hard to be surpassed, which Iintend to give my readers in another chapter. It was with these friendsthat for years I left my horse during all my vacation-journeys. Hereshe became a family pet. Here I was sure she would never be overridden,and always receive the kindest care. Here she came to be regardedwith an attachment, if possible, greater than my own; for, when Ireturned for her, the children would have a hearty cry as I rode heraway. When at length I closed my labors in the Southwest and left theregion, my kind Baptist friend was more than glad to procure her forhis Presbyterian wife, and I left her where I was sure she would havethe kindest treatment while serviceable, and enjoy a comfortable andhonored old age.

OLD-TIME HOSPITALITY IN THE SOUTHWEST.

The hospitality extended to ministers of the gospel by the people wholived in the Brush was generous and large-hearted to a degree thatI have never known among any other class of people. They obeyed theScripture injunction, "Use hospitality without grudging." They were"not forgetful to entertain strangers." I found their tables, theirbeds, their stables, and indeed all the comforts of their rude homes,always open for the rest and refreshment of myself and my indispensablehorse. We were as welcome to all these as to the water that bubbledfrom their springs and "ran among the hills."

At the commencement of my itinerant life, on leaving the families whereI had spent a night or taken a meal, I used to propose to pay them, andask for my bill; but I found this gave offense. Many seemed to regardit as a reflection on their generosity for me to intimate or supposethat they would take pay for entertaining a preacher. I thereforeadopted a formula that[Pg 48] saved me from all danger of wounding theirfeelings, and relieved my character from all suspicion of a dispositionto avoid the payment of my bills. It was as follows: When about toleave a family, I said to them, "I am indebted to you for a night'sentertainment," to which the general response was: "Not at all, sir.Come and stay with us again, whenever you pass this way."

It was a very rare occurrence that I was permitted to cancel myindebtedness by paying for what I had received.

In thanking them for their hospitality, as of course I always did onleaving them, they made me feel that I had conferred a favor ratherthan incurred an obligation by staying with them.

For years it was my custom to apply for entertainment at any housewherever night overtook me, and I invariably received a cordialwelcome. This application for entertainment was always made accordingto the custom of the people, and in their own vernacular, which I willillustrate by an example.

In my horseback-journeyings I had reached the tall, dense, heavyforests of the bottom-lands of the Mississippi River, about a dozenmiles from the Father of Waters. As the sun was about setting, Icame upon a large "dead'ning," where the underbrush had been cut outand burned off, the large trees had been girdled and had died, and acrop of corn had been raised among[Pg 49] the dead forest-trees, before thenew-comer in this wilderness had been able to completely clear a fieldaround his newly-erected log-cabin. Turning off from the corduroy-roadupon which I had been traveling, I took a footpath, and, followingthat, was soon as near the cabin as a high rail-fence would allow me toapproach on horseback. A short distance from this log-cabin was a stillsmaller one occupied by a colored aunty and her family, and used for akitchen; and not far off still another log-building, used for a barnand stable.

The most of my readers in the older sections of the country willsuppose that I had now only to dismount, hitch my horse, climb thefence, rap at the door, and so gain admittance to my resting-place forthe night. Far otherwise. Only the most untraveled and inexperienced inthe Brush would undertake so rash an experiment.

Sitting upon my horse, I called out in a loud voice, "Hello there!"That call was for the same purpose that the city pastor mounts thestone steps and rings the bell at the door of his parishioner. It wasrather more effective.

A large pack of hounds and various other kinds of dogs responded with abarking chorus, a group of black pickaninnies rushed from the adjacentkitchen, followed to the door by their sable mother, with arms a-kimboand hands fresh from mixing the pone or corn-dodger for the familysupper; all, with distended eyes and[Pg 50] mouth, and shining ivory, staringat the stranger with excited and pleased curiosity. At almost thesame instant, the mistress of the incipient plantation approached thedoor of her cabin, stockingless and shoeless, with a dress of woolseywoven in her own loom by her own hands, and cut and made by her ownskill, with face not less pleased and excited than the others, and hercordial greeting of "How d'y, stranger—how d'y, sir? 'Light, sir![alight]—'light, sir!"

Remaining upon my horse, I replied: "I am a stranger in these parts,madam. I have ridden about fifty miles since morning and am very tired.Can I get to stay with you to-night, madam?"

"Oh, yes," she replied, promptly, "if you can put up with our roughfare. We never turn anybody away."

I told her I should be very glad to stay with her, and dismounted. Thedogs, who would otherwise have resisted my approach to the door by acombined attack, obeyed their instructions not to harm me, and grantedme a safe entrance as a recognized friend.

Such was the universal training of the dogs, and such the uniformmethod of approaching and gaining admittance to the houses of thepeople in the Brush. My hostess informed me that her husband was atwork in the "dead'ning," but that he would soon be at home and takecare of my horse.

I told her that I could do that myself, and she[Pg 51] sent her little sonalong with me to the stable, where I bestowed that kind and, I maysay, affectionate care that one who journeys for years on horsebacklearns to bestow upon his faithful horse. I then entered the cabin,and received that warm welcome that awaits the traveler in our Westernwilds.

Shall I describe my home for the night? It was a new log-house, lessthan twenty feet square, and advanced to a state of completeness beyondmany in which I had lodged, inasmuch as the large openings between thelogs had been filled with "chink and daubing." The chimney, built uponthe outside of the house, was made of split sticks, laid up in theproper form, and thoroughly "daubed" with mud, so as to prevent themfrom taking fire. A large opening cut through the logs communicatedwith this chimney, and formed the ample fireplace. The roof was madeof "shakes"—pieces of timber rived out very much in the form ofstaves, but not shaved at all. These were laid upon the roof likeshingles, except that they were not nailed on, but "weighted on"—keptin their places by small timbers laid across each row of "shakes" overthe entire roof. These timbers were kept in their places by shorterones placed between them, transversely, up and down the roof. In thismanner the pioneer constructs a roof for his cabin, by his own labor,without the expenditure of a dime for nails. With wooden hinges anda wooden latch for his door,[Pg 52] he needs to purchase little but glassfor his windows, to provide a comfortable home for his family. Hislatch-string, made of hemp or flax that he has raised, or from the skinof the deer which he has pursued and slain in the chase, which, as theold song has it—

"Hangs outside the door,"

symbolizes the cordial welcome and abounding hospitality to be foundwithin.

At the end of the room opposite the fireplace there was a bed in eachcorner, under one of which there was a "trundle-bed" for the children.There was no chamber-floor or chamber above to obstruct the view of theroof. There was no division into apartments, not even by hanging upblankets, a device I have seen resorted to in less primitive regions.From floor to roof, from wall to wall, all was a single "family" room,which was evidently to be occupied by the family and myself in common.A rough board table, some plain chairs, and a very few other articlescompleted the inventory of household furniture of the pioneer's home towhich I had been welcomed.

Such a home was the birthplace of Lincoln, and many other of thegreatest, wisest, and best men that have ever blessed our country. Suchhomes have been crowned with abundance, and have been the scenes of asmuch real comfort and joy as any others in our land.

[Pg 53]

I have found that curiosity is a trait that is not monopolized byany one section of country or class of people. It belongs to alllocalities, and to all grades and kinds of people. I therefore, inaccordance with what a pretty wide experience had taught me was thebest course to pursue, proceeded at once to gratify the curiosity ofmy hostess as to who her guest was, and what business had brought himto this wild region. I told her my name, and that I was a Presbyterianpreacher, and an agent of the American Bible Society. This not onlysatisfied her curiosity, but was very gratifying information to her,and I received a renewed and cordial welcome to her home as a ministerof the gospel.

In the course of the ordinary conversation and questions that attendsuch a meeting of strangers in the Brush, I learned that she and herhusband had emigrated from a county some hundreds of miles east, whichI had several times visited in the prosecution of my mission, and Iwas able to give her a great deal of information in regard to her oldneighbors and friends. We were in the midst of an earnest conversationin regard to these people, when her husband came in from his labors.On being introduced to me, and informed in regard to my mission, herepeated the welcome his wife had already given me to the hospitalityof their cabin.

Our supper was such as is almost universally spread[Pg 54] in the wilds ofthe Southwest. It consisted of an abundance of hot corn-bread, friedbacon, potatoes, and coffee. A hard day's labor and a long day's rideprepared us to do it equal justice.

The evening wore rapidly away in conversation. Such pioneers are notdull, stupid men. Their peculiar life gives activity to mind as wellas body. My host was anxious and glad to hear from the great outsideactive world, with which I had more recently mingled, and had questionsto ask and views to give as to what was going on in the political andreligious world.

At length our wearied bodies made a plea for rest that could not berefused, and I was invited to conduct their family worship. Thisinvitation was extended in the language and manner peculiar to theSouthern and Southwestern sections of the country. This is universallyas follows:

The Bible and hymn-book are brought forward by the host, and laid uponthe table or stand, when he turns to the preacher and says, "Will youtake the books, sir?"

That is the invitation to lead the devotions of the family in singingand prayer. It has been my happy lot to receive and respond to thatinvitation—as I did that night—in many hundreds of families and insome of the wildest portions of our land.

The method of extending an invitation to "ask a[Pg 55] blessing" before ameal is quite as peculiar. Being seated at the table, the host, turningto the preacher, says, "Will you make a beginning, sir?"—all at tablereverently bowing their heads as he extends the invitation, and whilethe blessing is being asked.

So, too, I have "made a beginning" at many a hospitable board inmany different States. I did not that night make the mistake that isreported of an inexperienced home-missionary explorer, in similarcirc*mstances, who, laboring under the impression that "to retire" and"to go to bed" were synonymous terms, said, "Madam, I will retire, ifyou please."

"Retire!" she rejoined; "we never retires, stranger. We just goes tobed."

Sitting with the family before the large fireplace, I said, "Madam, Ihave ridden a long distance to-day, and am very tired."

"You can go to bed at any time you wish, sir," said she. "Just take theleft-hand bed."

I withdrew behind their backs to "lay my garments by," took theleft-hand bed, turned my face to the left-hand wall, and slept soundlyfor the night.

When I awoke in the morning, husband and wife had arisen and left theroom, he to feed his team, and she to attend to her household duties inthe kitchen. After an early breakfast, and again leading their familydevotions, I bade them good-by, with many thanks for their kindness,and with repeated invitations on[Pg 56] their part to be sure to spend thenight with them should I ever come that way again. But I have neverseen them since.

I have very often recalled a hospitable reception in the Brush, of avery different character, the recollection of which has always beenexceedingly pleasant to me. Wishing to visit a rough, wild, remoteregion, at a season of the year when the roads were almost impassableon account of the spring rains and the mud, I concluded to go thegreater part of the distance by steamboats, down one river and upanother, and then ride about fifty miles in a stage or mail-wagon.The roads would scarcely be called roads at all in most parts of thecountry, and I shall not be able to give to many of my readers any trueidea of the exceeding roughness of that ride. A considerable part ofthe way was through the bottom-lands of one of the smaller Southwesternrivers that swell the volume of the Mississippi. A recent freshet hadleft the high-water mark upon the trees several feet higher than thebacks of our horses; and as we jolted over the small stumps and greatroots of the trees, from which the earth had been washed away by thefreshet, I was wearied, exceedingly wearied, by the rough road andcomfortless vehicle in which I traveled.

At length we came upon a very pleasant plantation, with a comfortablehouse and surroundings, where the driver, a boy about fifteen yearsold, told me he[Pg 57] would feed his team, and we would get our dinner.It was not an hotel. Mail-contractors in this region often make sucharrangements to procure feed for their horses and meals for the fewpassengers that they carry, at private houses. As I entered the houseI was greeted with one of those calm, mild, sweet faces that one neverforgets. I should think that my hostess was between thirty-five andforty years old. I was too weary to engage in much conversation, andshe was quiet, and said very little to me. As I observed her movementsabout the room in preparing the dinner, I thought I had never seen aface that presented a more perfect picture of contentment and peace.I felt perfectly sure that she was a Christian—that her face bespoke"the peace of God that passeth all understanding." When she invited thedriver and myself to take seats at the table, I said, "Shall I ask ablessing, madam?"

With a smile she bowed assent, and, as I concluded and looked up, herface was all radiant with joy, and she said excitedly, "You are apreacher, sir!"

I replied, "Yes, madam."

"Well," she responded, "I am glad to see you. I love to see preachers.I love to cook for them, and take care of them. I love to have them inmy house."

I told her who I was, explained the character of my mission, andexpressed, I trust with becoming warmth, my gratification at thecordiality of her welcome.

[Pg 58]

"Oh," said she, "if I was a man, I know what I would do. I would donothing but preach. I'd go, and go, and go; and preach, and preach, andpreach. I wouldn't have anything to pester me. I wouldn't marry narywoman in the world. I'd go, and go, and go—and preach, and preach, andpreach, until I could preach no longer; and then I'd lie down—close myeyes—and—go on."

Was there ever a more graphic and truthful description of an earnest,apostolic life? Was there ever a more simple, beautiful description ofa peaceful Christian death? They recall the statement of Paul, "Thisone thing I do"; and the story of Stephen, "And when he had saidthis, he fell asleep."

The people who have spent their lives deep in the Brush, as this goodwoman had, have no other idea of a preacher of the gospel but one whoseduty and mission it is to "go" and "preach." They have been accustomedto hearing but one message, or at most a few messages, from their lips,and then hear their farewell words, listen to their farewell songs,shake hands with them, and see them take their departure to "go" and"preach" to others who, like them, dwell in lone and solitary wilds.Meetings and partings like these have originated and given theirpeculiar power to such refrains as—

This woman knew little of the great world—had little that it callsculture; her language was that of the people among whom she lived, andwas such as she had always been accustomed to hear; but her thoughtswere deep and pure, her "peace flowed like a river," and her communionwith God lifted her to companionship with the noblest and best ofearth. Though I spent but little more than an hour in her presence,and many years have passed since that transient meeting, her picturestill hangs in the chamber of my memory, calm, pure, and saintly, andbreathing upon my spirit a perpetual benediction.

OLD-TIME BASKET-MEETINGS IN THE BRUSH.

Religious meetings, popularly denominated "basket-meetings," wereknown and recognized as established institutions in the Brush. Theywere among the assemblages that had resulted from the sparseness ofthe population in those regions. Where the country was hilly andmountainous, and the settlers were scattered along the streams in thenarrow valleys; or the land was so rough and poor that only occasionalpatches would reward tillage; or for various other causes, the familieswere but few, and far distant from each other, it was a very difficultmatter for the people to leave their homes day after day to attend acontinuous meeting. Hence, among other religious gatherings, they hadlong been accustomed to hold what were called basket-meetings.

These meetings involved less labor and trouble than camp-meetings,and could often be held where such a meeting would be impossible.They were usually not as large, and did not continue as many days.[Pg 61]They were called "basket-meetings" from the fact that those from adistance brought their provisions, already cooked, in large baskets,and in quantities sufficient to last them during the continuance ofthe meeting. They put up no tents or cabins on the ground. They didnot cook or sleep there. They most frequently commenced on Saturday,and continued through the Sabbath. They generally had a prayer-meetingand preaching on Saturday forenoon, and then adjourned for an hour ortwo. During this intermission the greater part of the people dispersedin groups among the trees, and took their dinner after the manner of apicnic. Those living in the immediate vicinity returned to their homesfor dinner, taking with them as many of those in attendance as theycould possibly secure. Every stranger was sure of repeated invitationsto dine, both with these families and neighborhood groups among thetrees, and at the adjacent cabins. After dinner they reassembled andhad a repetition of the services of the morning.

Unlike a camp-meeting, they had no services at night. When theafternoon meetings were concluded, the people dispersed and spent thenight at the cabins within two or three miles around. All the peoplein these cabins usually kept open house upon such an occasion. Theywere present, and, after the benediction was pronounced, they mountedthe stumps and logs and extended a general invitation to any presentto[Pg 62] spend the night with them. Not satisfied with giving this generalinvitation, they jumped down and went among the rapidly dispersingcrowd and followed it with private personal solicitations to accepttheir proffered hospitality.

On the Sabbath, they reassembled with augmented numbers, and theservices of Saturday were reënacted, with such additions and variationsas the circ*mstances might demand.

The first basket-meeting that I ever attended was so new and strangeto me in all its incidents, that, though many years have intervened,my recollections of it are as vivid as though it had occurred butyesterday. It was in a very rough, wild region. The country had beensettled a long time, so that those in attendance were genuine backwoodspeople "to the manner born." The place of meeting was in a tall, dense,unbroken forest. The underbrush had been cut and cleared away, a fewtrees had been so felled that rude planks, made by splitting logs,could be placed across them for seats for the ladies, while the menmostly sat upon the trunks of other fallen trees. The pulpit or "stand"for the preacher was original and truly Gothic in its construction. Itwas made by cutting horizontal notches immediately opposite to eachother, in the sides of two large oak-trees, standing about four feetapart, and inserting into these notches a board about a foot wide,that had been placed across[Pg 63] a wagon and used for a seat by some ofthose present in coming to the meeting. The preacher placed his Bibleand hymn-book upon this board, hung the indispensable saddle-bags inwhich he had brought them across one end of it, and so was ready forthe services. I thought I had never seen in any cathedral a pulpit moresimple and grand. Those towering, grand old oaks, with their massive,outstretching branches, spoke eloquently of the power and grandeur ofthe God who made them. And yet, small and puny as the preacher appearedin the contrast, it was a fitting place for him to stand and proclaimhis message to the people who worshiped beneath them. Comparativelyunlearned and ignorant as he was, he could tell them from that openBible what they would never learn in the contemplation of grand oldforests, or stars, or suns, or all the sublimest works of nature. Allthese are mute and dumb in regard to the story of the cross. Howeverthey may enkindle our rapture, or excite our reverence, they will nevertell us how sin may be forgiven—how the soul may be saved.

The indispensable matter in the selection of grounds for abasket-meeting or a camp-meeting in the Southwest was a good spring ofclear, running water. This must be so large as to furnish an abundanceof water, not only for all the people who would be present, but forall the horses necessary to transport themselves and their provisionsto the place of meeting. In hot[Pg 64] weather the demands for water werelarge, and there was need for a "clear spring" like that so beautifullydescribed by the poet Bryant:

"... yon clear spring, that, midst its herbs,
Wells softly forth, and wandering, steeps the roots
Of half the mighty forest."

The sermon on this occasion was plain, sensible, and earnest. Thepreacher was superior to the people, and yet in all respects one ofthem. He had been born in the Brush, raised in the Brush, and had spentmany years in preaching to the people in the Brush. He dressed as theydressed, talked as they talked, and, unconsciously to himself, used alltheir provincialisms in his sermons. In his thoughts, feelings, andmanner of life he was in full sympathy with them. He had toiled amongthem long, earnestly, and successfully. He had preached to a great manycongregations, scattered over a wide extent of Brush country. He hadbeen associated with his brethren of different denominations in holdinga great many union basket-meetings similar to the one now in progress.He was widely known, beloved, and honored. Perhaps the most widelyknown, honored, and successful pastorate in the country has been thatof the late Rev. Dr. Gardner Spring, in New York. But I do not thinkthat Dr. Spring, with all his talents, culture, and learning, couldpossibly have been as useful,[Pg 65] as successful, as honored among thesepeople, as was this preacher. He could not have eaten their coarsefood, slept in their wretched beds, mingled with them in their dailylife, or been in such complete sympathy with them in their poverty,struggles, temptations, and modes of thought, as to have so won theirlove and reverence, and led them in such numbers to the cross ofChrist. "There are diversity of gifts, but the same spirit," etc. Ihonor these noble and heroic workers in the Master's vineyard, who thustoil on in the Brush, through scores of years, all unknown to fame.Many of them know nothing of Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, but they knowhow to win souls to Christ, and the highest authority has said, "Hethat winneth souls is wise."

That congregation, when assembled, seated, and engaged in theirdevotions, presented a scene not to be forgotten. The preacher, smallin stature, stood upon a rude platform at the feet of the massivecolumns of his pulpit. The people were seated among the standing trees,upon seats arranged without any of the usual regularity and order,but lying at all points of the compass just as they had been able tofall, the smaller trees among the larger ones. The voice of prayerand song ascended amid those massive, towering columns, crowned witharches formed by their outstretching branches, and covered with densefoliage. It was the worship of God in his own temple. It[Pg 66] carried thethoughts back to many scenes not unlike it, in the lives and labors ofChrist and his apostles, when they preached and taught upon the Mountof Olives, by the shores of Gennesaret, and over the hills and valleysof Palestine. It gave new force and beauty to the familiar words ofBryant's grand and noble "Forest Hymn:"

"The groves were God's first temples, ere man learned
To hew the shaft and lay the architrave,
And spread the roof above them—ere he framed
The lofty vault, to gather and roll back
The sound of anthems; in the darkling wood,
Amid the cool and silence, he knelt down,
And offered to the Mightiest solemn thanks
And supplication....
... Be it ours to meditate,
In these calm shades, thy milder majesty,
And to the beautiful order of thy works
Learn to conform the order of our lives."

At the conclusion of the morning sermon the greater part of thecongregation dispersed among the trees to take their dinner in themanner I have already described. I was invited to go with the preacherto a cabin about a mile distant, where we were to have our home duringthe meeting. We mounted our horses and accompanied our host through thewoods to his residence. As I looked back, I saw that we were followedby some forty or more other guests. On reaching his home I found threebuildings—a log-house, log-kitchen, and log-stable. Our horses were[Pg 67]put in the stable and bountifully fed with corn in the ear and fodder."Fodder" in these regions has a limited signification, and is appliedonly to the leaves which are stripped from the corn-stalks, tied insmall bundles, and generally stacked for preservation. The stalks arenot cut, as in the North and East, but the leaves are stripped fromthem while standing. This is the usual feed for horses in the place ofhay.

The house was similar to all log-houses, but, as our company was sonumerous, I had the curiosity to ask our host how large it was, and hetold me that he cut the logs just twenty feet long. Its single roomwas, therefore, less than twenty feet square. We, however, receiveda warm and cordial welcome, and host, hostess, and guests seemedexceedingly happy. With a part of the company, I was soon invited intothe adjoining house to dinner. This was much smaller—not more than tenor fifteen feet square. A loom in one corner filled a large part ofthe room. This was a very important part of their household treasures,as the greater portion of the clothing of the entire family was wovenupon it. A long, narrow table, of home construction, occupied the spacebetween the foot of the loom and the wall. There was a large fireplacein front, before which the coffee was smoking. A chair at each end anda bench on each side of the table furnished seats for ten guests. Ourbill of fare was cold barbecued shoat, sweet potatoes roasted in theashes, bread, honey,[Pg 68] and coffee. Our honey was from a "bee tree,"and our bread was of the Graham variety, from the necessities of thecase. The wheat had been ground at a "horse mill" in the neighborhood,where they had no arrangements for separating the bran from the flour.Such a dinner was not to be despised by hungry men. By the way, I havefound that over a very wide extent of our country the men,on such occasions, always eat first and alone, the women meanwhilestanding around the table and waiting upon them. After we had finishedour dinner, the table was rapidly reset by the aid of the "sisters"present, and ten more guests took their seats and dined. The samecourse was repeated until the table was set five times, and fiftypersons had dined bountifully in that little log-cabin.

Having all dined, we returned to the preaching "stand," and thecongregation reassembled. I preached to them at 4 P.M.,and all the services were conducted to the close in a manner notessentially different from preaching services elsewhere.

The audience was dismissed for the night, and dispersed among thenearest cabins. My clerical friend and myself were joined by a younglicentiate, and returned to spend the night at the house at whichwe had dined. The company was not as large as that at dinner, butto one inexperienced in such life, as I then was, it was beyondmy comprehension how they[Pg 69] could be entertained for the night. Myexperience and observation at dinner had shown me how we could getthrough with our supper. A succession of tables I understood, buthow could that be applied to sleeping arrangements? A successionof beds was a kind of "succession" I had never heard or read of inecclesiastical or any other history. But my perplexities were evidentlynot felt by any one else in the company, and I dismissed them.

All seemed as happy as they could well be. Conversation was animated.All tongues were loosed. There were stories of former basket andother meetings, of wonderful revivals, and of remarkable conversions.There were reminiscences of eccentric and favorite preachers who hadlabored among them long years before. There was the greatest varietyof real Western and Southwestern religious melodies and songs.These were interspersed with the conversation during the evening, andwere the source of great and unfailing interest and joy. So the hoursrolled on, and all were happy. It was the occasion to which they hadlooked forward, and for which they had planned for months—the greatoccasion of all the year, and it brought no disappointment. For myself,I must say that if I ever drew upon my stores of anecdote, and whateverpowers of entertaining I may possess, it was upon this occasion. Iwas quite in sympathy with the general joy and good feeling. During[Pg 70]the evening one and another had called for the singing of differentreligious songs that were their favorites. On such occasions there wasa general appeal to a young lady, who was quite the best singer in thecompany, to know if she knew the song called for; and if she did it wassung. At length a hymn was called for, and in response to the usualappeal she said she did not know it. I opened a book, found the hymnand tune, handed it to her, and said, "Here is the hymn with the tune.Perhaps you can sing it."

She declined to take the book, saying, with the utmost frankness, "Oh!sir, I can't read."

I now learned to my amazement that all the hymns and tunes she had sungthat evening she had learned by rote—learned by hearing them sung byothers. She was a young lady, some eighteen or twenty years old, ofmore than common beauty of face and form, and yet she had no hesitationat all in revealing the fact that she could not read. I afterwardreceived a similar shock on remarking to a young lady that I met at acounty-seat, whose home I had previously visited, "I understand that anumber of the young ladies in your neighborhood can not read."

"Oh!" said she, "there are only two young ladies there that can read."

I afterward visited many neighborhoods where it was as proper to ask ayoung lady if she could read[Pg 71] as it was to ask for a drink of water,the time of day, or any other question.

At length the evening passed, and the hour for rest and sleep came. Oneof our number "took the books" and led our evening devotions. A chapterwas read, our final hymn was sung, and we all bowed in prayer aroundthat family altar. As we arose from our knees, the brethren presentall walked out of doors. The sisters remained within. Some "Martha"among them had enumerated our company. There were three beds in thecabin. These were divided, and a sufficient number of beds made up onthe bedsteads and over the cabin-floor to furnish a sleeping-place forall our company. This accomplished, some signal—I know not what—wasgiven, and the brethren returned to the house. I followed them. Thesisters were all in bed, upon the bedsteads, with their heads coveredup by the blankets. We got into our beds as though these blankets hadbeen thick walls. Our numbers in this room included three young ladies,a man and his wife and child, and six other men.

When we awoke in the morning some of the brethren engaged inconversation for a time, until Mr. W——, the preacher, remarked, "Isuppose it is time to think about getting up."

At this signal the sisters covered their heads again with theirblankets, and we arose, dressed, and departed. My companion for thenight was the young[Pg 72] licentiate; and as we walked toward the stable tolook after our horses—the first thing usually done in the morning bypersons journeying on horseback—I remarked to him, "Last night hasbeen something new in my experience. I never slept in that way before."

He looked at me with an expression of the profoundest astonishment, andexclaimed, "You haven't!"

I said no more. I saw that I was the verdant one. I was the only onein all the company to whom the experiences of the night suggested athought of anything unusual or strange. So trite and true it is that"one half of the world does not know how the other half lives."

The Sabbath was the "great day of the feast." It brought togethersome three or four hundred people—a very large congregation in sucha sparsely settled country. I made an address to them in the morning,explaining the extended operations of the American Bible Society in ourown and other lands. I told them that the Society was then attemptingto place a copy of the Word of God in every family in our country; thatMr. K——, a venerable and honored class-leader, had been appointed tocanvass their county; and that either by sale or gift he would supplyevery family in the county with the Bible that would receive it. Allof these facts were new to the most of them, and were listened to withthe greatest interest. Large numbers of them had no Bibles in[Pg 73] theirfamilies; they were more than sixty miles from a book-store, which manyof them never visited, and they were glad to have the Bible brought totheir own doors, and furnished to them at so small a price. By makingthese statements I gave the Bible-distributor an introduction to thepeople scattered over a wide extent of country, which prepared them towelcome him to their families and greatly facilitated his labors.

My brief address was followed by a sermon entirely different from thoseof the preacher I have already described, and deserves notice as a typeof thousands that are preached to the people in the Brush. Scarcely asentence in the sermon was uttered in the usual method of speech. Itwas drawled out in a sing-song tone from the beginning to the end. Thepreacher ran his voice up, and sustained it at so high a pitch thathe could make but little variation of voice upward. The air in hislungs would become exhausted, and at the conclusion of every sentencehe would "catch" his breath with an "ah." As he proceeded with hissermon, and his vocal organs became wearied with this most unnaturalexertion, the "ah" was repeated more and more frequently, until, withthe most painful contortions of face and form, he would with difficultyarticulate, in his sing-song tone:

"Oh, my beloved brethren—ah, and sisters—ah, you have all got todie—ah, and be buried—ah, and go to the judgment—ah, and standbefore the great white[Pg 74] throne—ah, and receive your rewards—ah, forthe deeds—ah, done in the body—ah."

From the beginning to the end of his sermon, which occupied justan hour and ten minutes by my watch, I could not see the slightestevidence that he had any idea what he was going to say from onesentence to another. While "catching his breath," and saying "ah," heseemed to determine what he would say next. There was no more train ofthought or connection of ideas than in the harangue of a maniac. Andyet many hundreds of such sermons are preached in the Brush, and I amsorry to add that thousands of the people had rather hear these sermonsthan any others. This "holy tone" has charms for them not possessed byany possible eloquence. As the preacher "warms up" and becomes moreanimated in the progress of his discourse, the more impressible sistersbegin to move their heads and bodies, and soon all the devout brethrenand sisters sway their bodies back and forth in perfect unison, keepingtime, in some mysterious manner, to his sing-song tone.

It seemed sad to me that such a congregation, gathered from such longdistances, should have the morning hour occupied with such a sermon.But it was a union meeting, the preacher was the representativeof his denomination, and they would have gone away worse thandisappointed—grievously outraged—if they could not have heard thissermon with the "holy tone."

[Pg 75]

But our basket-meeting was to be signalized by an incident alwaysinteresting in all countries, in all grades of society, among the mostrustic as well as among the most refined. After the benediction, a partof the congregation who were in the secret remained upon their seats,casting knowing and pleasant glances at each other. My friend W——,who, like a good many other preachers, and some preachers' wives, hadfaithfully kept a secret that a good many were "just dying to know,"took his position in front of the "stand." A trembling, blushing, buthappy pair advanced from the crowd, and took their position beforehim. The groom produced from his pocket the indispensable license.The dispersing crowd, having by some electric influence been apprisedof what was going on, came rushing back, and mounted the surroundingstumps and logs, forming a standing background to the sitting circle.All looked on and listened in silence, while the preacher in a strong,clear voice proceeded to solemnize the marriage and pronounce themhusband and wife. The scene was strange and strikingly impressive. Itseemed a wedding in Nature's own cathedral. The day was perfect. Somerays from the sun penetrated the dense foliage above and fell upon thescene, mingling golden hues with the shadows, as the poet, the recentlydeceased A.B. Street, has so beautifully described:

[Pg 76]

"Here showers the sun in golden dots,
Here rests the shade in ebon spots,
So blended that the very air
Seems network as I enter here."

After the usual congratulations and kisses the groom withdrew, andreappeared in a few moments mounted upon a large gray horse. The bride,having gained the top of a stump, mounted his horse behind him, and thetwo rode away, as happy and satisfied as they could well be.

The larger congregation of the Sabbath made larger demands upon theirhospitality; but these demands were fully met. The dinner, both underthe trees and at the cabins, was but a reënactment of the scenes of theday before on an enlarged scale.

In the afternoon Mr. W—— preached a sensible and earnest sermon, likethat of the day before. In my pocket-diary, written at the time, I havecharacterized it as a "thundering sermon." His voice was strong, andcapable of reaching the largest congregations that he addressed in theopen air. This sermon concluded the services of the basket-meeting. Asthe benediction was pronounced, three gentlemen on horseback arrivedupon the ground. They were a presiding elder, a circuit-rider, anda class-leader, on their way to conference. They had preached somefifteen miles away in the morning, and continued their journey to reachthis meeting. I knew them all, and had preached[Pg 77] with and for them attheir homes. As they were strangers to most, if not all, the people,I introduced them to the clergymen and others present. They were sometwenty miles from any hotel or public-house, and of course must spendthe night with some of these people. My host, to whom I had introducedthem, said:

"I should be very glad to have you all stay with me, but I can't takecare of your horses. I have a plenty of houseroom, but my stable isfull."

From what I have already said of the numbers who dined and lodged withhim, it will be seen that he had very enlarged ideas of the capacity ofhis house. An enthusiastic neighbor, who was about as rough a lookingspecimen of a backwoodsman as I ever saw, stepped forward and said:

"I have room enough for your horses and you too. I should be glad tohave you all go with me."

The presiding elder went with him, but the preacher and theclass-leader were claimed by others.

Before leaving the grounds, it was arranged between us that we shouldall meet at a designated place in the morning, and I would travelwith them to the conference, to which I was thus far on my way.Though not an Arminian, but a Calvinist, though not a Methodist,but a Presbyterian, I knew that a cordial welcome awaited me as arepresentative of the American Bible Society. I knew that, in additionto this official welcome, I should[Pg 78] receive the warm greetings ofbrethren beloved, with whom I had traveled many hundreds of milesover their "circuits," and mingled in all the novel, interesting, andeventful scenes in their wild itinerant life. When I met the elder thenext morning, I asked him the nature of the very ample accommodationsthat were offered him. He said he slept upon the floor, but he did notundertake to count the number who shared it with him.

So ended the various incidents of our basket-meeting; but therecollection of it has been among the pleasant memories of my life inthe Brush.

SOME EXPLANATORY WORDS.

Perhaps some statement in explanation of this "rough" but aboundinghospitality of the people in the Brush is demanded in justice tothose persons and places whose hospitality would seem to suffer inthe contrast. I might enumerate many circ*mstances connected withlife in a wild, unsettled country that will occur to most readersas the cause of this abounding hospitality; but it seems to me thatthe chief reason is the fact that meat, bread, and all theirprovisions, excepting groceries, cost them so very little. Theyestimate what they can use scarcely more than the water taken fromtheir springs. Beef, pork, and bread cost them almost nothing. Theircattle run at large, and their free range includes thousands of acresof unoccupied[Pg 79] lands. They grow and increase in this manner with butlittle attention or care. The hogs find their food in the woods thegreater part of the year, and in the fall they fatten upon the nuts or"mast." The oak, hickory, beech, and other trees that abound in theseextensive forests afford vast quantities of these nuts, which thesepeople claim for their own hogs, whoever may own the land. I knew a manthat owned several thousand acres of these lands, who sold the nutson the ground to a "speculator," who drove his hogs upon the tract ofland to eat them. But the residents were incensed at this trespass upontheir immemorial privileges, and secretly shot and killed so many ofthese hogs that their owner was glad to escape with any part of hisdrove, and leave them possessors of the "mast." The method by whichthese people retain and recognize their ownership in the hogs that runat large and mingle together in the woods was quite new to me. Theowner looks carefully after the young pigs, calls them, and feeds them,for some days or weeks, until they know his voice, and will come athis call. Whatever kind of a hoot, scream, or yell it is, they learnto associate it with their food, and run at the sound. Sometimes theowner merely blows a horn. If a hundred hogs belonging to half a dozenmen are feeding together in the woods, and their owners sound theircalls from different hills, the hogs will separate and rush in thedirection of the sound to which they have been accustomed. In this[Pg 80]manner these people secure for their families, with but little trouble,the most abundant supply of bacon. The corn, which furnishes the mostof their bread, is raised with but little labor. After it is plantedit is plowed or cultivated, and "laid by" without any hoeing at all.If they have enough to feed their hogs a short time before killingthem, they do not gather this, but turn the hogs into the corn-fields,and let them help themselves. The drought that caused the famine inKansas, in the early history of that State, extended over this region.As the breadth of ground planted here was so much greater, the resultswere not so sad. But there was a scarcity of corn such as the peoplehad never known before. The price advanced from twenty and twenty-fivecents a bushel to a dollar and upward, and many were unable to procureenough to make bread for their families. But the "mast" was abundantthat fall, and there was no lack of bacon. I visited many families thatlived almost entirely on meat. During the winter I met a physicianwho told me that in his ride among the hills he found whole familiesafflicted with a disease that was entirely new in his experience. Uponconsulting his books, he found it was scurvy, the result of living uponlittle besides bacon.

With this usually abundant supply of food, which on account of the badroads and the distance from market has but little pecuniary value;with houses and accommodations such as I have described; with but few[Pg 81]books, newspapers, and other kinds of reading; with a dearth of theexcitements and amusem*nts of the outside world, it is not so strangeor wonderful that they are eager for pleasures and enjoyments thatinvolve these displays of hospitality.

I know that my statements often appear incredible to many of myreaders. But I trust that, after these "explanatory words," I shall nottax too largely either the faith of my readers or my own character forveracity.

THE BAPTISM OF A SCOTCH BABY IN THE WILDS OF THE SOUTHWEST.

I wish to give my readers the details of a very pleasant incidentin my experiences, quite incidental to my special work. I visited asmall county-seat village in a very rough, wild region, where I hadbeen directed to call upon a Methodist gentleman, who would render meefficient and cheerful aid in the prosecution of my labors. I met withthe reception that had been promised, and made arrangements to preach"on the next day, which was the Sabbath." As the agents of the AmericanBible Society are chosen from the different religious denominations,they very naturally asked me with what church I was connected. Whentold that I was a Presbyterian, the gentleman and his wife turnedat once to each other, a smile of unusual joy overspreading theirfeatures, and the lady, who was the first to speak, said:

"Well, Mr. and Mrs. Dinwiddie will be gratified at last."

The conversation that followed, and other visits and[Pg 83] conversations inthe neighborhood, fully explained their joy at seeing me. The gentlemanand lady alluded to were Scotch Presbyterians, who had been in thiscountry but a few years, and they were very anxious to have theirfirst-born child baptized by a minister of their own church. They, anda venerable man eighty-four years old, who had recently come from adistant part of the State to spend his declining years in the familyof a widowed daughter, were the only persons in the county connectedwith that church, and they knew not when they might be favored witha visit from one of their own ministers. But, judging from the pasthistory of the county, their prospects were dark indeed. A veneratedfather in this church, who was alive at the time of my visit, but hassince gone to his reward, had preached in this county more than thirtyyears before on one of his missionary excursions through the State. Imet those who had heard him preach and remembered his sermons. As faras could be ascertained, he was the last Presbyterian clergyman who hadvisited and preached in the county, and they knew not when to expectanother. I subsequently saw this venerable preacher, and received fromhis own lips most interesting details of his explorations of these wildregions so many years before.

A week or two passed before I was able to visit this family, duringwhich time I preached in rude log school-houses, in a ballroom, acourt-house, from a "stand" erected for the purpose in the forest,and also standing[Pg 84] on terra firma at the foot of an oak-tree,the congregation being seated upon benches, or on the ground, underthe shade of surrounding oaks. In the different neighborhoods that Ivisited, I found the same general interest in behalf of this familyand their child. According to a Scottish custom, they would not calltheir child by the name that had been chosen for it until that name hadbeen given to it in the sacred rite of baptism. When asked by theirneighbors the name of their child, they would reply, "Oh, she has noname. She has not been baptized yet. We call her 'Baby,' or some petname." This seemed very strange to the people, and the dear littlechild that was growing up without a name became the object ofgeneral sympathy and interest throughout the county.

There is quite a celebrated watering-place (where my mare won the twohundred and fifty dollars) some fifteen miles from their forest home,and it was thought that there might be some Presbyterian clergymanamong the visitors during the summer season, and a large number ofpersons had promised this family that they would let them know if anysuch clergyman arrived at the Springs, that they might send for him tobaptize their child.

As soon as I was able to do so, I set out to visit this Scotch family,in whose history I had become very deeply interested. A Christianbrother, residing at the county-seat and belonging to anotherdenomination, kindly consented to accompany me, and show me the[Pg 85] way totheir residence. Our route was not over a road that had been laid outby a compass, but was the most of the way through the woods, windingits zigzag course over hill, and valley, and stream, among the tallmonarchs of the forest. It was a hot day in August, but the densefoliage above us, as we rode through the "aisles of the dim woods,"protected us from the heat of the sun, and our ride was altogether apleasant one. After traveling some twelve or fifteen miles, we reacheda "dead'ning," and soon were at the door of the log-cabin we wereseeking.

I will not attempt to describe the joy of that young mother whenmy attendant introduced me to her as a Presbyterian clergyman, andexplained the object of our visit. "Hope deferred maketh the heartsick, but when the desire cometh it is a tree of life." Years hadpassed since, a young and blooming bride, she had left the heatheryhills of Scotland for a home in our Western wilds; but, until thatmoment, she had not seen a minister of the church of her home and herchoice since the day that her loved pastor had solemnized that rite inwhich she gave herself to another, and sent her forth with the warmblessings of a pastor's heart. The loneliness of their forest home in aland of strangers was at length cheered by the tiny echo of a new andwelcome voice in their rude dwelling. For many long months the "joyfulmother" had gazed upon the sweet face of her lovely child, and longed,with unutterable longings,[Pg 86] to dedicate her first-born to God in hisown appointed ordinance. As the months rolled on and swelled to years,the many friends of her home in Scotland mingled their sympathies withhers; and the pastor, who could not forget the lamb that had thus goneforth from his flock, expressed his strong desire to stretch his armsacross the broad Atlantic, and baptize this child of the forest intothe name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. At thetime of our arrival the husband and father was absent from his house,attending to his flocks. He was a shepherd, and had selected his homehere because for a small sum he could purchase a large tract of landover which his flocks might range. As his wife did not know in whatdirection he had gone, and he could not easily be found, we determinedto wait until he should return.

In the mean time we learned that the young mother we had found in thewilds of the Southwest was born in the East Indies, and had been sentto Scotland when eight years old to be educated among her relatives.We listened to the story of the religious privileges they had enjoyedat home; heard of the old pastor who, for more than fifty years, hadwatched over the same flock, a volume of whose sermons and sacramentaladdresses made a part of their library, and learned to love theyouthful colleague and subsequent pastor. We were shown what was at thesame time a certificate of marriage and church-membership, certifyingthat "William D——[Pg 87] and Mary R—— were lawfully married on ——, andthat they immediately thereafter started for America. They were thenboth in full communion with the Church of Scotland, and entitled to allchurch privileges." We were also shown that most appropriate of bridalgifts from a pastor—a beautiful Bible, presented as a parting gift to"Mrs. William D——, with best wishes for the temporal and spiritualwelfare of herself and her husband. II Chronicles, xv, 2; Psalms,cxxxix, 1-12." How strikingly appropriate these references!

At length the father returned, and added his warm welcome and greetingto that we had already received from the mother. They had bothevidently received that thorough religious training so peculiar totheir nation, and here, far away from their native heath, in their wildforest home, it was exerting its influence, not only upon them, butupon many around them. That very morning a neighbor had sent them wordthat a Presbyterian clergyman (the writer) had preached at the Springsa few days before, and at once a younger brother was dispatched witha large farm-wagon, their only conveyance, to bring the stranger totheir home, that he might baptize their child. Our route in going, andhis in coming for me, were the same, but we failed to meet each otheron account of the numerous tracks through the woods. On reaching thecounty-seat from which we had started in the morning, he learned that,to the joy of the neighborhood, we had already left for the purpose of[Pg 88]baptizing the child. He immediately turned back, hastened home, andreached there soon after the arrival of his brother. A neighbor, anold acquaintance from their home in Scotland, and a family domestic,now made our number just that of those to whom Noah, that "preacher ofrighteousness," undoubtedly ministered after they entered the ark.

The necessary preparations for the baptism were soon made. In thecenter of that low-roofed cabin a cloth of snowy whiteness wasspread upon a table, upon which a bowl of water was placed. Thatlittle company then arose, and reverently stood while, after a briefaddress to the parents, the simple, solemn ordinance of baptism wasadministered, and parents, child, and friends far away, were commendedin prayer to a "covenant-keeping" God. The sacred stillness of thatcalm evening hour, the associations of a home far away, and the tendermemories of the instructions of other years that clustered aroundthese strangers, rendered the simple service most impressive, andpervaded all with solemn awe. We could but feel that he who had saidto Abraham, "I will be a God to thee, and to thy seed after thee, intheir generations, forever," had "bowed the heavens and come down"; andthat he would ratify in heaven what had now been done on earth in thename of the Sacred Trinity. The happy mother pressed her fair-faced,beautiful child to her bosom with unwonted joy, and never did the sweetname Mary sound sweeter than when, with[Pg 89] maternal fondness, she gazedinto its clear blue eyes, and again and again, with alternate kisses,called her "Sweet Mary," "My Mary."

This was my first baptism; and the privilege of administering thisHeaven-ordained rite, in circ*mstances like these, was compensation formonths and years of such toils as they must endure who labor amid themoral desolations of our Western wilds.

BARBECUES; AND A BARBECUE WEDDING-FEAST IN THE SOUTHWEST.

The barbecue was an established institution in the Southwest. It had inno other part of the country so many devotees. There was a charm in thename that would at any time call together a large concourse of people,on the shortest notice, and for any occasion. And the savory smellof roasted ox, sheep, shoats, turkeys, rabbits, or whatever else wasprepared to appease the appetite of a crowd, would keep them togetherto hear the longest political speeches, listen to the most protractedschool examinations, give their attention to the most elaborateexpositions of the importance of some projected turnpike or railroad,and secure a patient waiting and an unbroken audience on any occasionwhen the barbecue feast was to be the agreeable conclusion.

I have a most distinct and vivid recollection of my first view of theprocess of barbecuing a whole ox. At the close of a long, hot day'sride, I had stopped to spend the night at a small and very inferiorcountry[Pg 91] tavern. On the opposite side of the road, immediately infront of it, there was a large forest. As I took my accustomed walkto the stable, to see that my horse was properly fed and cared for,before retiring for the night, I was attracted by the glimmerings ofa fire among the tall, large forest-trees in the distance; and thenI saw through the darkness the dusky forms of negroes moving amongthe trees, and hovering around some strangely concealed fire, onlythe gleams of which I could see. Ordinarily such a light in the woodsor at the roadside would not have attracted my attention. The sightwas a matter of daily and nightly occurrence. But it was usuallywagoners, or movers, or travelers of some kind, camping for the nightand cooking their supper. A very large proportion of the people thatone met traveling with their own teams in the Southwest were entirelyindependent of all hotels and houses of entertainment. They had a long,narrow box attached to the hind end of their wagons, that served as amanger in which to feed their horses. When night overtook them, theyhitched and fed their horses in the rear of their wagons. They thenlighted a fire, and needed little besides a frying-pan and coffee-potto prepare a supper of bacon, corn-dodgers, and coffee, to which hungerand good digestion gave a relish such as pampered and sated epicuresnever know. Almost invariably their wagons were covered with coarsebrown duck-cloth or canvas, which was stretched over hoops, and,[Pg 92] ifnot provided with tents, they made their beds under this covering.Wagoners who transported goods, flour, and other commodities longdistances, as well as movers and others, usually traveled in company,so that whenever they camped for the night, which they usually aimedto do near some spring or brook, they presented a very picturesque andanimated scene. The view which attracted my attention had none of theseaccessories and surroundings, and I strolled into the woods to seewhat it might be. On arriving at the spot my curiosity was abundantlygratified and rewarded. I saw for the first time an immense ox in theprocess of being barbecued. And this was the process: A large trenchhad been dug in the ground, about six or seven feet wide, eight or tenfeet long, and four or five feet deep. This trench had been filledwith the best quality of beech or maple wood from the body of thetrees. This had been set on fire and burned until there was left a bedof burning coals, some two or three feet deep, that did not emit aparticle of smoke. The slaughtered ox had been laid completely open,and two large spits, about eight feet long, had been thrust througheach fore and hind leg lengthwise, and four negroes or more, takinghold of the ends of these spits, had laid the ox over this trench abovethis bed of burning coals. There the bovine monarch lay, cooking asbeautifully as in my childhood I had seen many a turkey, suspended bya long string, swinging before the large wood-fire that was burningand[Pg 93] blazing upon the ample hearth of our family kitchen. And it wasupon the same principle—the juices were all cooked in. The negroeswere gathered around the ox, with large swabs upon long sticks, withwhich they incessantly "basted" it, with a liquid prepared for thispurpose and standing in large kettles on either side of the trench.From time to time the large bed of coals was stirred, and occasionallythey performed the difficult feat of turning over the entire ox, sothat each side might be cooked at an equal rate of progress. This workthey greatly enjoyed. There was enough of the wild and strange aboutit to gratify their excitable natures. For the time being they weresupremely happy. The stillness of the night, the surrounding darkness,and the gleams of that large and brightly burning bed of coals in theoverhanging tree-tops, gave to the whole scene a weird character whichawoke all the enthusiasm of their untutored natures. Through the longnight they cheerfully plied their task, stirring up from the depths thelive burning coals, and "basting" and turning the ox as often as wasnecessary. Frequently they sang those strange, wild African songs thatthey are accustomed to improvise while at work and upon all kinds ofoccasions, and as they echoed among the forest-trees and floated outupon the night-air, the soft, sweet melody was most enchanting. As Ileft to go to my room for the night, and turned to look back upon themfrom the darkness, the strange scene seemed not[Pg 94] unlike a company ofDruid priests offering a sacrificial victim in some grand old Englishforest. In the morning I made them another visit. Many of the coals hadturned to ashes, and the bed was much reduced in depth. But when thenegroes put in their long poles, they stirred up an abundance of brightcoals from the bottom. The ox, which had been placed over the fire atsundown the night before, was to be cooked until noon, when the grandbarbecue dinner was to be eaten. The smaller animals, such as sheepand shoats and the various kinds of poultry, were to be placed overthe fire in time to be nicely cooked by this hour. At that time everyportion of the ox would be thoroughly done to the bone; not baked andburned and dried, but made more juicy and tender and sweet than any onehas ever once dreamed that the best of beef could be who has not eatenit cooked in this manner. I have never, at the most magnificent hotels,or the most luxurious private tables, eaten any kind of meat, poultry,or game that was so rich, tender, and agreeable to the taste as thatbarbecued in the manner I have described.

This was a political barbecue, at which several distinguished speakers,candidates for various offices, were to address the people. But myengagements for preaching, and other duties connected with my missionthe next day, were such that I was compelled to leave immediatelyafter breakfast. I could not hear the speeches, see the long tables,made of rough[Pg 95] boards, spread under the forest-trees, participate withthe immense throng in their barbecue dinner, and witness and enjoyall the strange and varied scenes and incidents inseparably connectedwith such a gathering of all the "sovereigns" in the Brush. But whatI have said will suffice to give my readers the modus operandiof a barbecue. It will be seen that it is the simplest possible mannerof preparing a dinner for a large concourse of people. It requiresneither building, stove, oven, range, nor baking-pans. It involvesno house-cleaning after the feast. It soils and spoils no carpets orfurniture. And in the mild, bountiful region where the ox and all thatis eaten are raised with so little care, the cost of feeding hundreds,or even thousands, in this manner is merely nominal. Hence barbecueshave been for a long time so common and popular in the Southwest. Therehave been unnumbered political barbecues, where the eloquence peculiarto that region has been developed, and where vast audiences have beenmoved by its power, as the trees beneath which they were gatheredhave been swayed by the winds. In the published life and speeches ofHenry Clay are several that were delivered at different barbecues,where he addressed the people on state and national affairs, with aneloquence and power equal to, if not greater than, that with which heenchained the Senate. There have been barbecues in connection withschool-examinations, and Sabbath-school[Pg 96] celebrations where educationaland religious topics have been discussed. There have been barbecuesin connection with meetings in favor of turn-pikes, railroads,and all kinds of internal improvements. There have been uncountedbarbecue-dances, and barbecues for more occasions than I can name. Butof all these I will only describe a large wedding, that was succeededby a barbecue-supper, that I had the pleasure of attending.

I had spent the Sabbath at a small county-seat village, and on Mondaymorning my kind friend and hostess said to me: "We are to have a largewedding on Thursday night of this week, and, if possible, you muststay in the county long enough to attend it. Mr. C——'s only daughteris to be married to Mr. R——, our county clerk, and, as Mr. C—— isa widower, I leave home this morning to go and assist them in theirpreparations."

As I was obliged to visit several persons in different parts of thecounty, on business connected with my Bible work, I planned my ridesso as to reach the neighborhood in which Mr. C—— resided on the dayappointed for the wedding. I received a cordial welcome from my ladyfriend, who was installed as presiding mistress for the occasion, andfrom the father of the bride, to whom she introduced me. He was an oldand highly esteemed citizen of the county, and a warm personal andpolitical friend of her husband.[Pg 97] It was on account of these relationsbetween the families, and purely as an act of neighborly kindness,that she had left her own home to take charge of his family, anddirect his servants during this, to them, eventful week. He belongedto the dominant party, and had represented his fellow-citizens in theLegislature of the State. Tall in stature, plainly dressed, mostlyin home-made jeans, of simple, unstudied manners, his kind face andwarm heart bespoke a man to be revered and loved by his neighbors andby all to whom he was known. He was in comfortable but not affluentcirc*mstances—in the vernacular of the region, "a good liver." Hishouse was of the prevailing style of architecture for the better classof plantation-houses in the Southwest and South. It was a two-storyframe, with a wide hall or "passage" through the middle of it, anda chimney on each end, built outside of the house. In the rear, andcommunicating with it, was a log building, which had probably been thehome of his early married life, in which the supper-table was to bespread for this occasion. Early in the afternoon the guests began toarrive. A few from adjoining counties, and from the greatest distance,persons of wealth and high social position, came in carriages; butby far the greatest number, both of ladies and gentlemen, arrivedon horseback. The ladies almost invariably had a carpet-bag orsachel hung on the horn of their saddles, in which they[Pg 98] brought thedresses in which they were to grace the occasion. A horseback-rideover such roads, and through such mud and clay as most of them hadcome, would not leave the most becoming wedding attire in a verypresentable condition. Hence these arrangements to "dress" after theirarrival. As they rode up, many of them with calico sun-bonnets andbutternut-colored riding-dresses, such as I have elsewhere described,and bespattered with mud, they looked more like bands of wanderinggypsies than wedding guests. But the best of colored waiting-maids,from near and remote plantations, were in attendance, who took chargeof the sachels, and of their young misses, and conducted them to somecapacious dressing-room. Here each maid was anxious that her young"missus" should eclipse all the others, and under the manipulations ofthese ambitious servants they emerged from the room transformed, if notto wood-nymphs and fairies, at least to a becomingly attired and verybright and happy throng.

It was often very interesting to me to witness the solicitude and prideof these family servants in the appearance made and the attentionsreceived by their young mistresses, and the art which they frequentlydisplayed in aiding or defeating matrimonial alliances that wereagreeable or otherwise to them. This was often a very important matterto them, as it involved the question whether they were to have a kindor an[Pg 99] unkind master. If the suitor pleased them, they poured into hisears the most extravagant praises of their young "missus," and waitedupon him with the most marked attention and delight. But if they knewthat his temper and habits were bad, and thought he would make anunkind master, they did not fail to repeat, in ears where it would bemost effective, all that they knew to his discredit. In this mannerthey have aided in making and defeating many matches.

As the sun declined, the arrivals increased until the numbers swelledto scores, to fifties, and, when all had assembled, there were inand around the house more than two hundred. It was a genial, happythrong. All were in the best possible humor. There were pleasant,kindly greetings between the old, and frolic and flirtations among theyoung. At about nine o'clock the wedding ceremony was announced, andas many of the guests as possible assembled in the largest room. Thebride and groom, with bridesmaids and groomsmen becomingly attired,entered the room where we were gathered, and the ceremony was performedby a clergyman of the neighborhood, which was followed by the usualcongratulations and greetings.

But there had been barbecuing and cooking of all kinds for daysbefore, and very soon we followed the bride and groom with our ladiesto the supper-room. The tables were arranged diagonally across theroom from corner to corner, in the form of the letter X,[Pg 100] so as toaccommodate the largest number. There was the greatest abundance ofbarbecued meats, and poultry of different kinds, with a variety ofcakes, pies, and everything else to make a hearty and bountiful feast.This was enjoyed with the keenest relish by all those who had gainedadmittance to the supper-room; and, when their appetites were fullysatisfied, they retired to give place to others. These in turn gaveplace to others, and so tableful succeeded tableful for hours. Whilethe feasting was going on, the others were enjoying themselves inconversation and general hilarity. Not a few occupied the large porch,and enjoyed a smoke and social chat. I sat down here and had a longtalk with the father of the bride. He told me that, after inviting hisparticular friends, legislators, members of the bar, and others, fromadjoining counties and distant neighborhoods, he had put a negro boyupon a horse and directed him to go to every family, rich and poor,within a circle of a few miles around his home, and invite them all tothe wedding. I think that very few that could possibly get there hadremained at home. It was a thoroughly promiscuous crowd. It embracedall ages and all grades of people that the region produced, and allseemed equally to enjoy the gathering, as they were free to do in theirown way. Some time after midnight I gratified my curiosity by goinginto the supper-room and asking my lady friend, who was the mistressof ceremonies, if she had any idea how[Pg 101] many persons had already takensupper. She replied:

"I had not thought of that, but I can easily tell. The table has beenset each time with thirty-two plates, and this is the fifth tableful."

And still others were waiting, and after them all the colored servantswere to have their feast—in all, more than two hundred.

Later in the night a gentleman residing in the neighborhood invitedme and several other gentlemen to go home and lodge with him. Beforeleaving, my lady friend came to me, and said:

"You must come back here and get your breakfast in the morning."

I replied:

"Is it possible that you will have anything to eat after feeding thisgreat crowd?"

"Oh, yes," said she, opening a door, and directing me to look into aroom where the provisions were stored; "we have five barbecued shoatsthat have not been touched yet."

We mounted our horses, and rode through the darkness to mylodging-place for the night. Beds were soon divided and scatteredover the floor, making pallets enough for each of us. The wife of myhospitable friend, with the most of the ladies in attendance, remainedat the house and slept in this same manner, covering the floors of thedifferent rooms. Husbands[Pg 102] and wives were generally separated thatnight, the gentlemen going to the different houses in the neighborhoodto sleep, as we had done. When we arose in the morning, my host said:

"We shall all have to go back to get our breakfast. There is not aknife, fork, or dish in the house. They are all at the wedding."

This was the condition of most of the houses in the neighborhood.When we returned, we found a large company and an abundant breakfast.After mingling with the departing guests for a time, I renewed mycongratulations and good wishes for the happy pair, and bade good-by tomy kind friends, greatly pleased with this entirely new experience at awedding.

Such is a simple, unadorned narrative of a wedding, with its barbecuefeast, at which I was a guest in the Southwest. How unlike those that Ihave attended in our largest cities! But who shall say at which therewas the greatest and most universal happiness, whether where wealthand fashion held high carnival, or at this more simple and primitivegathering and feasting of old neighbors and friends in the Southwest?

THE OLD, OLD BOOK AND ITS STORY IN THE WILDS OF THE SOUTHWEST.

I have never known such remarkable and pleasing results follow thereading of the Bible, without any human help, as among the ignorantpeople I have visited, living in wild and neglected regions in theBrush. I propose in this chapter to give a detailed account of theresults that followed its presentation, by Mr. J.G. K——, to familiesliving among the hills upon the head-waters of a stream that I thoughtwas rightly named "Rough Creek." Mr. K—— was a venerable and faithfulBible-distributor, sixty-four years old, and he loved, above everythingelse, to go from house to house with the Word of God, and strive bysimple, earnest exhortation and fervent prayer to lead souls to Christ.While prosecuting his labors in this neglected region, he found inone neighborhood sixteen families out of twenty without a Bible, andsupplied the most of them by gift.

This region of country was exceedingly wild, broken, and inaccessible,there being no main public road leading[Pg 104] to it. The hills were highand steep, the valleys narrow, and the people were scattered alongthe creeks and over the hill-sides, with no other roads leading tothem than neighborhood paths. Mr. K—— told me that he never couldhave found all these families had not a young man who was born in thevicinity (who had since become a Methodist preacher) volunteered toaccompany him as a guide. He had hunted deer, foxes, wildcats, andother game over these hills until he knew every locality and path.Entering these rude, humble cabins, they explained the nature of theirwork, supplied the families with the Word of God by sale or gift, andthen, after kindly and earnestly urging upon them the worth of the souland the importance of securing at once an interest in Christ, theybowed with them in prayer, and humbly and earnestly besought God'sblessing upon them. There was a strange interest in these visits. Thevoice of prayer had never before been heard in many of these dwellings.Though their visits were so strange and unusual in their nature, theywere everywhere kindly received, the mild, benignant face of thevenerable distributor making him everywhere a welcome visitor. Wherewill not a face full of geniality and sunshine secure a welcome for itspossessor?

As he was concluding his prayer at one of these cabins, the old man,who had been absent, returned, and hearing the strange sound in hishouse, cried out, in astonishment, "Wake, snakes!" But, on goinginto the[Pg 105] house when the prayer was concluded, our visitor receivedhim with a smile, explained to him the nature of his visit, and atonce made a personal religious appeal to him. The old man treated hisvisitor very kindly, though he seemed to be in a very jocular mood,and replied to most of his remarks with some playful speech. But whenhis visitor left he went out with him, and assisted him in getting onto his horse, and invited him to call again whenever he should passthat way. But generally their exhortations were listened to with deepsolemnity and awe, and their visits evidently made a deep religiousimpression upon the neighborhood.

Not many weeks after these visits of Mr. K——, reports were receivedthat several persons in this neighborhood had been hopefully converted;and for a year or more I was almost constantly hearing from varioussources of the wonderful work of grace that was going on there. Thestatements in regard to the number and character of the conversionswere so remarkable that I was unwilling to make them public until I hadmade a personal visit to the neighborhood, and seen with my own eyeswhat God had wrought. I subsequently made that visit, and can truly saythat the half had not been told me. My powers are not equal to the workof giving an adequate description of the great change that had beenwrought through the power of God's Word and Spirit, but I will givesome of the main facts.

I arrived at a house to which I had been directed,[Pg 106] near thisneighborhood, about midday, having traveled for miles in the foot-pathsthat led from one cabin to that of the next neighbor. Where the pathwas blind and difficult to follow, the people would often send a littleboy or girl along to show me the way. On making myself known as apreacher, and the agent of the American Bible Society, I was at oncegreeted with the usual question, "Won't you preach for us to-night?"

I gladly assented, as I had made the journey to learn the realcondition of things, and I was anxious to see as many of the people aspossible. Word was at once sent over the hills in different directionsthat I would preach that night in a log-house that had been erectedsince the visit of Mr. K—— for a school and meeting house; andshell-bark-hickory torches were at once prepared to light me andthe hospitable family that entertained me to and from the place ofmeeting. This house was upon a hill in the midst of the woods, and atsome distance from any clearing, having been placed there on accountof its central position in the neighborhood. Though the notice wasshort, and the night dark, and all who came had to make their way bytorchlight through the forest, the house was well filled, and it was areal pleasure to unfold and enforce the truths of the Gospel, in simplelanguage, to a group whose solemn stillness and attention showed thatthey listened indeed as to a message from Heaven.

[Pg 107]

At the close of our services it was a rare and beautiful sight to seethe audience disperse from that rude sanctuary, some on foot, andsome on horseback—a father, mother, and three children upon a singlehorse—the oldest child in front of the father, the second behind themother, and the third in the mother's arms, their flaming torcheslighting up the grand old forest, as they set out for their homes withparting words of Christian hope and cheer.

In the prosecution of my inquiries I learned that the first person whohad been converted in the neighborhood, after the visit of Mr. K——,was Mr. Jake G——, who had received a Testament in the followingmanner. When Mr. K—— and his guide were making their visits, theycalled at a house where there were eight children, and the parents wereboth gone from home. On inquiring of the children if their parents hada Bible, they said they did not know—meaning, undoubtedly, that theydid not know what a Bible was.

Without dismounting, they gave the children a Testament, and told themto give it to their parents when they came home.

Not long after this the guide who accompanied Mr. K—— met the man atwhose house they had left the Testament, and he immediately said: "I'mmighty sorry I was not at home when you and old man K—— were aroundwith them books, for I'm mightily[Pg 108] pleased with the little book youleft at my house. Joe H—— told me you had some bigger ones" (Bibles)"at his house, and if I had been at home I would have got one of thembigger ones sure; for I'm mightily pleased with the little one. I can'tread, and my wife and children can't read; but Brother Joe's wife canread, and she comes over to our house, and we get her to read out ofthat little book; and it's mighty pretty reading. I've heard readingafore, but I never heard any reading afore that I wanted to hear readagain. But that little book I do take to mightily. BrotherFred's wife can read, too, and we get her to read out of the littlebook; and everybody that comes to our house that can read, we get themto read out of that little book; and—I don't know what it is—Inever heard any such reading afore; every time they read to me outof that little book it makes me cry, and I can't help it."

I have already said that this man was the first person who wasconverted in the neighborhood after the visit of the Bible-distributor.They read "that little book" until he and his wife, and thosetwo brothers and their wives, became savingly acquainted with itstruths, and they, with many others in the neighborhood, became thehumble and devoted followers of Christ. I learned that this Mr. JakeG——, who had received and who now loved his "little book," as I havedescribed, belonged to a family remarkable for their ignorance and[Pg 109]irreligion. Though he had eight children, his grandfather was yetalive, more than ninety years old, and still a very hardened sinner.He had come to this neighborhood from southwestern Virginia more thanthirty years before. He had had eighteen children, thirteen of whomlived to marry, and nine of whom were settled immediately around him.None of his children could read a word except two of the youngest, whohad attended school a little after leaving Virginia, and, though allof them had large families, all of them were without the Bible buttwo. One son and one daughter had married persons who had a Bible.The two Bibles that had been obtained by marriage were the only Biblesin this large family connection when Mr. K—— visited the neighborhoodand supplied them all.

The father of the man who had received the Testament was sixty-twoyears old; had reared a family of nine children, not one of whom norhimself could read, and all of them had grown up and married but two;and that large family had never owned a Bible. The mother could read,and Mr. K—— gave her a Bible. Now she and her husband and six oftheir children were numbered with the people of God, and thoughunable to read were humble learners at the feet of Jesus.

The morning after my sermon, accompanied by a small boy, whom my hostkindly sent along as a guide, I rode through the woods and over thehills to the house of Mr. Jake G——, where, several months before,[Pg 110]the "little book" had been left by the Bible-distributor and hisguide. He was among my hearers the night before, and I had sought anintroduction to him, had a short conversation with him, and told him Iwould come and see him in the morning. I was particularly anxious tospend a few hours with him in his own home, and get the story of thegreat change that had been wrought in himself and in the neighborhood,from his own lips, and in his own genuine Brush vernacular.

There is to me a strange interest and pleasure in hearing one whosesoul has been thoroughly subdued by the power and grace of God, whoas yet knows little of the Bible, and less of the set phrases inwhich religious thoughts are usually communicated, give expression tothe warm and glowing emotions of his soul, in language all his own.There is often in these recitals the highest type of simple, naturaleloquence in the singularity, the quaintness, and the power of thelanguage used.

As I rode up the hill-side and hitched my horse to the rail-fence infront of his log-cabin, he came out to meet and welcome me. But therewas not that warmth of cordiality with which he had shaken my handthe night before. As I entered the house with him and took a seat, heremained standing, and walked about the floor continually, with anuneasy, troubled air. He was a very tall man, was barefooted, and hisonly dress was a shirt and pantaloons. After some little conversation,he[Pg 111] turned to me and said, "How much does that little book sell for?"

I could not imagine why he asked the question, but replied at once,"Only a dime, sir." (The Bibles and Testaments were sold as near thecost-price in New York as possible, but as no pennies were used in anybusiness transactions in all this region, we were obliged to sell thisTestament, costing six and a fourth cents, for a dime.)

He did not make any response to my answer, but, after some furtherconversation, which I tried to keep up, he came and stood directly overme, and said, in a very sad tone of voice, "Well, sir, I have only gothalf enough to pay for that little book, but if I had the money I'd payfive dollars before I'd give it up."

Understanding at once that he supposed I was on a collecting tour,and that this was the cause of my visit and all his trouble, I said,"Why, sir, did you suppose I had come to get the pay for your littleTestament?"

"H'ain't you?" asked his wife eagerly, a slight smile of hope passingover her earnest, expressive face.

"Why, no, indeed," said I; "that book was given to you. The BibleSociety gives away a great many Bibles and Testaments, and all theywant is to know that people make good use of them."

"Well, I declare!" said she, her face all radiant with joy. "We've beenright smartly troubled about it all the morning. I knew we hadn't gotmoney enough to[Pg 112] pay for it, and I didn't know what we shoulddo. I wouldn't give it up for nothing. I know none of us can't readany, but we get it read a mighty heap. I love to have it in the house,whether we can read or not. That's the little book we're trying togo by now, and whenever they gets together the first thing is toget out the little book, and it seems like they never get tired of it."

That was one of the most moving and beautiful tributes of affectionand love for the Word of God to which I have ever listened. I see hernow through the lapse of years, her bright, black eyes and her faceall aglow with joy, as she sat at one side of her fireplace in thatcomfortless cabin. The chimney, made of sticks and mud, and standingon the outside of the house, had leaned away from the opening that hadbeen cut through the logs for the fireplace, and left a large openspace through which and the logs the winds blew upon her back aboutas freely as through a rail-fence. Where the brick or stone hearthshould have been, there was only a bed of ashes and a few smolderingfire-brands. Two beds on one side of the room and a few rougharticles of household furniture numbered all the comforts of theirone apartment. Such were her surroundings, and yet I had made her oneof the happiest mortals I have ever seen. As I looked into her black,expressive eyes and her bright face, which must have been beautifulin earlier years, it was hard to believe that she could not read a[Pg 113]word—that she had never learned a single letter of the alphabet of hermother-tongue.

"Well," said an old man, who thus far had sat quite mute, "I'm sure myold woman makes good use of hers; she reads it about half the time. Ibelieve she would go crazy if you should take her Bible away."

This old man, with his hair hanging down to his shoulders, hispowder-horn, pouch, and other hunting equipments hanging at his side,had entered the house with his gun in hand just as I rode up, havingapparently just returned from a morning hunt. I now learned that he wasthe father of the man at whose house I was—the man in whose familyso great a change had been wrought since Mr. K—— had given his wifethe Bible. After I had satisfied them that they were not to lose theirTestament and Bible, all tongues were unloosed, and I wish it were inmy power to give in detail the conversation that followed.

"Can't you stay and preach for us to-night?" said the old man. "We cansend word around, and you'll have a house full. I want to hear youmightily. We didn't sleep any last night, hardly. Jake came home frommeeting so full, and he was trying to tell us about the sermon. Youought to stay and see the G——s; you ought to hear them sing and pray."

I consented to preach again most gladly, and after full consultationamong themselves as to whose house in the neighborhood would holdthe most people, and[Pg 114] arrangements had been made for circulating thenotice, they all sat down and listened intently while I read to themout of the "little book," explaining the portions read as I wouldattempt to explain them to an infant-class in a Sabbath-school.I remember that the great change wrought in themselves and theirneighbors seemed an incomprehensible mystery to them. So, looking outof the open door of their cabin and down the hill-side, I pointed themto the tops of the large forest trees that were swaying to and fro inthe wind, and said:

"You see all those trees in motion, but can not see anything movingthem. And yet you know what it is. You know that it is the wind. Youcan not see it, but you can hear its sound."

I then opened their "little book" (for I had preferred to read to themout of their own prized treasure, that they might be sure, after Iwas gone, that they had in their possession all that I had read andexplained to them), and read to them the story of the conversation ofChrist with Nicodemus, calling their special attention to the passage:"The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof,but canst not tell whence it cometh or whither it goeth. So is everyone that is born of the Spirit."

This passage was apparently new, and made the whole matter wonderfullyclear to them, affording them the most intense pleasure andsatisfaction. So I read, and they listened to these simple comments,for an hour[Pg 115] or more with expressions of the deepest interest, andwould evidently have listened thus for hours. We then all bowed uponour knees, and, after I had prayed, Mr. Jake G——, at my request,offered a prayer, such as he offered daily as he assembled his childrenaround that family altar; a prayer so broken, so humble, so sincere, asto move the stoutest heart. I wish I could give the whole of it; but Ionly remember the first sentence, "O Lord, we bow down to call on thyname as well as we know how."

I spent the rest of the day with the old man, visiting differentfamilies, and in his own, reading the Bible to them, praying with them,and listening to their simple details of the wonderful change thathad been wrought among them. Their own statements in regard to theexceeding ignorance and irreligion of the community corroborated theaccounts I heard of them in all the country around.

"I've known a heap of people," said the old man, as we left the house,and started off through the woods, "but I never did know as bad a setas the G——'s" (his own family). "Every one of my boys played thefiddle, and every one of my children had rather dance than eat the bestmeal that could be got. Every one of my boys played cards and gambled.Every one of them would go to horse-races and shooting-matches, andget drunk, and fight, and get into all kinds of scrapes. And my boyDock—that ain't his name, but that's what we all[Pg 116] call him—I do wishyou could hear Dock pray now—my boy Dock used to get drunk and havefits [delirium tremens], and when he was gone to a shooting-match or alog-rolling, or any such place, I'd go to bed at night, but I couldn'tgo to sleep. I'd just lie and wait to hear him holler, and I've goneout many a night and brought him into the house out of the most awfulplaces. And Sundays—why, I didn't hear a sermon in fifteen years.Sundays my yard was filled with people who came from all around here,and jumped, and played marbles, and shot at a mark, and frolicked, allday long. And such a thing as a hime" (hymn), continued the old man,"singin' himes or prayin', why, there wa'n't no such thing in all theneighborhood. When they first began to hold meetings around, therewa'n't nobody to raise the tunes. Now they know a heap of himes, andsometimes Jake leads the meetin', and sometimes Dock, and you ought tohear them all sing and pray now."

So the old man talked on, giving his simple narrative of these anda great many other facts, until at length we came to a log-house.This was the place where I was to preach that night, the home ofa brother—the old man that had shouted "Wake, snakes!" athearing Mr. K—— pray. He had since died, and died unconverted, andthe account that the old man gave of the death of this brother wasmost touching. As his case grew more and more hopeless, those of hischildren and relatives who had been converted felt the deepest interestfor[Pg 117] him, talked with him as well as they knew how, and prayed withhim; but all apparently in vain.

"I watched him from day to day," said the old man, "until I saw therewas no hope for him. I knew that he must die, and I knew that he wasnot prepared. I shook hands with him, bid him good-by, and turned awayfrom him, and thought I had no time to lose. I determined to try andget religion at once, and be prepared for death."

When at length his family and friends had gathered around his bed tosee him die, his youngest daughter, that had lately been converted, whowas about eighteen years old, but could not read a letter, agonized atthe thought of his leaving the world unprepared, rushed forward, kneltat his bedside, and gave vent to her emotions in a prayer such as israrely offered. Those who heard it were most of them as illiterateas herself, and incompetent to describe it; but from their accountsthe scene was solemn, and the effect overpowering to all except thedying man. As she arose from her knees, he opened his eyes, and said,faintly, "I never expected that [to hear a prayer] from one of mychildren," and in a few moments breathed his last. During my visit hereI asked this young lady if she could read. She replied:

"Oh, no, sir; I was always too industrious to take time to learn toread." Her arms were colored to above her elbows, where she had hadthem in the dye-tub, preparing the "butternut-woolsey" for the familyuse.

[Pg 118]

From this place the old man took me to his own house. As we went up tothe door, his wife stood with her back to us, washing dishes, and herapped at the door. She turned her head so as to see us both, but didnot move her body or say a word. He then said:

"Old woman, see here!" (pointing to me), "here is a man that has cometo get your Bible."

Looking at me a moment, she responded:

"You talk too much," and resumed her work.

We then entered the house, and he informed his wife and daughter whoI was and that I was to preach that night. After I had talked withthem a while, it was proposed that I should again read and explain theBible to them. At his son's house, as they had all been so wicked, Ihad read, among other portions, the account of the persecutions and theconversion of the Apostle Paul, and given them a simple sketch of hissubsequent history, and then pointed out the parts of the "little book"that this man who had been so wicked had been inspired to write. Thisstory was almost if not entirely new to them, and they were greatlyinterested in it. When the family were seated, and I was about to readto them, the old man said to me:

"Can't you read that again that you read up at Jake's? Thatabout—that—that—that what do you call him?"

"Paul," said I.

[Pg 119]

"Yes, Paul, Saul, Paul. Read that about Paul. If that don't hit thenail on the head better than anything I ever heard afore!"

I, of course, consented, and went over the story again for the benefitof his family, and the facts seemed to lose none of their interest tothe old man by their repetition. Having spent all the time desirablein reading and praying with this family, there were still a few hoursbefore the preaching service began. Shall I introduce my readersmore fully to this home in the Brush, and tell them how this timewas passed? The house contained but a single room. The daughter ofwhom I have spoken was about eighteen or twenty years old, tall andlarge, wore a butternut-colored woolsey dress that she had probablyspun and woven, and was barefooted. I had not been long in the housebefore she retired from their only room, in which I sat, and in honorof my arrival reappeared in another dress. I do not know where shemade her toilet, only that it was the same ample and magnificentdressing-room first used by Mother Eve. The material of the dress inwhich she appeared was old-fashioned cheap curtain calico, with wavingstripes some two or three inches wide running its entire length.Preferring perfect freedom and the comfort of the cooling breezesto considerations that would have been influential with most of mylady readers, in thus making her toilet she had chosen to remainstockingless and shoeless. A massive head of dark-brown[Pg 120] hair, cutsquarely off and pushed behind her ears, hung loosely down her neck.

When the dishes were washed and all the after-dinner work accomplished,and she was prepared to sit down and enjoy the conversation, she tookfrom the rude mantle-tree above the fireplace a cob-pipe, and filledit with home-grown and home-cured tobacco from an abundant supply ina large pocket in her dress. Lighting her pipe, she took a seat atthe right of her father, while I occupied a chair on his left. Soonlarge columns of smoke began to rise and roll away above her headas gracefully as I have ever seen them float around the head of themost fashionable smoker with the most costly meerschaum. Bending herright arm so that she could clasp the long stem of her pipe with herforefinger, she rested the elbow in the palm of her left hand. Then,placing her right limb across her left knee, she swung the pendentfoot slowly, as if in meditative mood, and yielded herself to the fullenjoyment of her pipe and our conversation. Her name I should have saidwas Barbara. She was of a quiet, taciturn disposition, and rarely saidanything, except as she was appealed to on some matter by her proud andhappy father.

I have met some people who were so ignorant in regard to rusticmanufactures that they did not know what a "cob"-pipe was. For the sakeof any that may be similarly uninformed, I will describe one. It is[Pg 121]made by taking a section of a common corn-cob some two or three inchesin length, and boring or burning out with a hot iron the pith of thecob some two thirds of its length, and then boring or burning a smallhole transversely through the cob to the base of the bowl already made,and inserting in this a small hollow reed or cane for a stem. Thesepipe-stems are long or short, from a few inches to two or three feet,according to the preference of those who are to use them. I have oftenbeen told by old smokers that no pipe was as pleasant or sweet as acob-pipe. The great objection to them is that they have to be renewedso frequently.

Seated as I have already described, the hours passed away to theevident satisfaction of my entertainers. It is not an easy matter tomaintain a conversation for several hours with those who have neverread a word of their mother-tongue. Their stock of ideas is necessarilyrather limited. But a very large experience in mingling with this classof people had given me such facilities that I was evidently alreadyinstalled as a favorite in the family. I asked a great many questionsin regard to the children and grandchildren, which were answered withthe interest which always pertains to these inquiries. At length theold man returned the compliment by inquiring very particularly intomy own family affairs. When pressed upon this subject, as I almostuniversally was by families in the Brush, I was compelled to tell themthat my family was very small—as small as possible—just[Pg 122] that ofthe Apostle Paul; in plain language, that I was that quite unusualcharacter, a clerical bachelor. The old man was astonished. I think hewas gratified. His face glowed with some new emotion. He was evidentlywilling on our short acquaintance to receive me as a son-in-law.Turning his pleased, animated face to me, and leaning forward in hischair, he lifted his right hand, and, pointing with an emphatic gestureto his daughter, said:

"Well, preacher, my gals is all married but Barbara here, and she isready, sir."

Miss Barbara retained her hold upon the long stem of her cob-pipe,and smoked on, wellnigh imperturbable at this sudden culmination ofaffairs, though I think that, like myself, she was somewhat startledand moved, for I could see an evident increase in the swinging movementof her still pendent right foot.

"Well, Preacher, my gals is all married but Barbarahere, and she is ready, sir."

But I must pass over other and interesting incidents of the day. Nightcame, and with it the congregation that had been promised. Temporaryseats had been provided, and the log-cabin was closely packed. As thelast of the company were arriving, it began to sprinkle, and as ourservices progressed the rain fell in torrents. There was grandeur inthe storm as the wind howled among the trees and the rain beat upon theroof but a few feet above our heads. As the most of the company couldnot read, and all were very ignorant, my sermon was as simple as Icould possibly[Pg 123] make it. It was listened to with an eager interest,reminding me of the words of the prophet: "Thy words were found, andI did eat them; and thy word was unto me the joy and rejoicing of myheart." Those simple babes in Christ had as yet no idea of a meetingwithout special efforts for the conversion of the impenitent; and, inresponse to my appeal made after the sermon, a little girl, some twelveor fourteen years old, came forward to be prayed for. As she started,the audience were greatly moved. She was the great-grandchild of thehoary-headed and hardened sinner who had raised his large family as Ihave already described, and who still lived and looked on unmoved atthe wonderful work God was doing among his children and his children'schildren. She was the eldest daughter of Dock G——, and after I hadinstructed her and pointed her to Christ as best I could in thesecirc*mstances, and several prayers had been offered for her, herfather knelt by her side and poured forth the yearning desires of hisburdened soul in her behalf. It was a prayer of confession of parentalunfaithfulness, of thanksgiving for what God had already done, and ofearnest, importunate wrestlings for one that was a part of himself andmust live for ever. It was a prayer such as I had never heard before.I did not wonder that his father had said to me in the morning, "I dowish you could hear Dock pray now." Though he could not read, his mindwas evidently of a superior order, and the language of his[Pg 124] prayer wasnot such as he had acquired by hearing others pray, but was entirelyhis own. It was deeply affecting to hear such familiar thoughts,uttered in language so strange and unusual.

As the rain continued to pour in torrents and the night was fearfullydark, the meeting was continued to a late hour, and I was gratified inhearing them sing and pray a long time. Their hymns were mostly thosethat they had learned by hearing them sung by others, and their prayerswere the simple, earnest utterances of those who seemed evidently tohave been taught of God. At length the meeting closed, and thoughthe rain still poured without abatement, and the night was fearfullydark, several of the company, who had left young children at home,started out in the storm to make their way home through the woods andacross swollen streams by following, without torchlight, their windingneighborhood paths. But the most of the congregation remained untilnear midnight, when the rain abated and it became lighter. Others nowstarted for home, some on foot and some on horseback, to find theirway through the forest for two or three miles, up and down hills andacross streams, where I had found it a difficult matter to make my wayby daylight. With a number so large that I did not undertake to countthem, I spent the night in their cabin, and received from the familythe kindest treatment it was in their power to bestow.

First of all, at the close of the meeting, the cob,[Pg 125] clay, and allother pipes were brought out, and family and guests sat down to enjoya social smoke and chat. Though I have spent so many years wheretobacco is grown and almost universally used, though I have enjoyed thehospitality of a great many families where the mothers and daughtersboth chewed and "dipped," I have never learned to use the weed. ThoughI do not smoke, I have very often been most thoroughly smoked. In thiscompany of social smokers, composed of old men and young men, old womenand young women, I was more favored than I have often been in the mostelegant apartments of the most magnificent dwellings. The fireplace,several feet long, filled with ashes, made an ample spittoon, andthe large "stick" chimney, aided by the winds that circulated freelythrough the cabin, afforded what I have so often wished for—anample funnel for the escape of the smoke and fumes of the tobacco.Uncultivated as this company was, it was evident that they were giftedwith capacities for enjoying the weed equal to those of the mostrefined circles I have ever met.

Having smoked to their satisfaction, and the hour of midnight beingpassed, I was pointed to a bed in one corner of the room which I was tooccupy. I had not been in it long before some bedfellow got in to shareit with me. I soon discovered that it was my would-be father-in-law,and that he slept with his boots on—I suppose to save the trouble ofdrawing them off[Pg 126] and on. How or where the rest of my congregationslept, I do not know, for, on getting into bed, I had turned my faceto the log wall, and, being exceedingly wearied with the labors of theday and the night, I was soon oblivious to all around me, and lost insleep. When I awoke in the morning, my friend, who had shared the bedwith me, and who had evidently awaked some time before, greeted me withthe friendly salutation:

"How dy, partner?" his boots, at the moment, greeting my vision as theyextended beyond our bed blankets or quilts.

After breakfast, I bade good-by to the kind friends whose rough butgenerous hospitality I had thus enjoyed, with many thanks on their partfor my visit, with many regrets at my departure, and with repeatedrequests that I would visit and preach for them again. But my farewellhere, as in thousands of other cases, was a final farewell. I was notto meet them again, except, as is so often sung, in one of their wild,favorite religious songs:

"When the general roll is called."

During this visit I learned that about a hundred persons hadbeen converted in this neighborhood since the visit of theBible-distributor. Among them were about thirty members of the familyto which I have so often alluded, in which this good work had itscommencement[Pg 127] in the reading of that little Testament. There hadformerly been no regular preaching in the immediate neighborhood, but aCumberland Presbyterian minister had preached once a month in a privatehouse not far from them. It was the house to which I had been directed,and the family who had so kindly entertained me and circulated theappointment for my first sermon in the neighborhood. The preacher wasthe faithful man of God who had preached and officiated in the marriageat the "basket-meeting in the Brush" which I have already described. Hehad changed the place of holding his meetings, and preached regularlyonce a month in the new log-house in which I preached on the night ofmy arrival. In addition to his regular services, he had held protractedmeetings, and his earnest and devoted labors had been greatly blessedin carrying forward this remarkable work of grace. Methodist preachershad also visited the neighborhood at different times, and held meetingsat which numbers had been hopefully converted. All who had made apublic profession of religion had united with these two denominations,and there was the utmost peace and harmony among them. The dark spiritof sectarianism seemed as yet to have found no place among them, andall who beheld them were compelled to say, as should be said of allthose of different names who profess to be the disciples of Christ,"Behold how these brethren love one another."

[Pg 128]

At the time of my visit and for some months before, the only regularpreaching in the neighborhood was that once a month by Mr. W——, theCumberland Presbyterian minister. But they held a prayer-meeting whichwas conducted by themselves on all the other Sabbaths, and once duringeach week. At these meetings they read the Scriptures, and sang andprayed, and with tearful eyes and warm and glowing hearts rehearsed totheir friends and neighbors the simple story of the love and grace ofGod as it had been manifested to them. To those who had been familiarwith their former lives, there was a convincing, an almost resistless,power in their services, and they had often been owned of God in thesalvation of souls. Many had been induced to come long distances toattend these meetings, and had gone away, saying, "Surely this is thework of God, for only his power could enable such people to offer suchprayers." I was told that even the little children had caught theprevailing spirit, and had commenced a "play" that was entirely newin the neighborhood. When their parents were gone to night-meetings,as they often were, the little children who were left at home aloneentertained themselves by playing "meeting"—going through with allthe services as they had seen them at the meetings they had attendedwith their parents. I tried to learn of one mother—the one who was sograteful that she was not to lose her "little book"—what her childrenwould say at[Pg 129] these meetings, but she could only tell me of one littlefellow four or five years old, that she pointed out to me, who wouldget up and very seriously repeat over and over the words, "Oh, themdear little children in heaven! them dear little children in heaven!"

I was very greatly interested in learning from the remarks that I heardin both this and the surrounding neighborhoods of the uniformity ofsentiment in regard to the religious character of this work. In a longconversation with a man who had known these people from his boyhood,and whose Christian heart had been greatly rejoiced at what he had seenand heard, I said:

"There must be a very great change among them?"

"Indeed there is," said he, emphatically. "It's a smart miracle!"

Among all the persons of different classes that I saw, I met no one whoseemed to doubt in the least that it was a genuine work of grace. "Itis the Lord's doing, and it is marvelous in our eyes."

CANDIDATING; OR, OLD-TIME METHODS AND HUMORS OF OFFICE-SEEKING IN THESOUTHWEST.

I have found no class of people in the Southwest so omnipresent asoffice-seeking politicians. I have visited no neighborhood so remote,no valley so deep, no mountain so high, that the secluded cabins hadnot been honored by the visits of aspiring politicians, eager to securethe votes of their "sovereign" occupants. In multitudes of such cabinsand settlements, their first impressions in regard to me were thatI was either a sheriff, collecting the county and State taxes, or a"candidate" soliciting votes. The one vocation was as general and asuniversally recognized as an honorable employment as the other. If Idid not make myself known as a clergyman as soon as I arrived at manyof these out-of-the-way cabins, I was frequently greeted with thesalutation:

"How dy, sir? I reckon you are a candidate, stranger!"

Some months preceding each election these aspirants[Pg 131] for officialhonors publicly announced themselves as candidates for the particularoffice that they sought. In those States where the election was heldthe first Monday in August, these announcements were usually made thepreceding spring at the February county or circuit court. On suchoccasions the court adjourned for the afternoon, and after dinnerthe crowds in attendance gathered in the court-house, and, one afteranother, all the aspirants for all the different offices, State andnational, came before the assembled people, announced themselves ascandidates, and set forth their qualifications for the office soughtand their claims upon the suffrages of their fellow-citizens. Sometimeshalf a dozen or more would announce themselves as candidates for thesame office. In listening to their speeches one would be led to thinkthat the chief excellence and glory of our Constitution was thatit secured to every citizen the right to be an office-seeker. "Myfellow-citizens, I claim the right of an American citizen tocome before you and solicit your suffrages," was asserted by a greatmany of these candidates, and very often by those who could present buta sorry list of other claims for the office sought.

I have often found these gatherings occasions of the rarest interestand sport. On one occasion the candidate's name was Coulter,and the office sought was the county clerkship. The incumbent wasa consumptive, in such poor health that he had been compelled tospend[Pg 132] the winter in a milder climate, and it was doubtful if hewould be able to discharge the duties of his office another term. "Myfellow-citizens," said Mr. Coulter, "I am very sorry for Mr. Anderson[who was present], our worthy county clerk, sorry that his health isso poor—sorry that he was obliged to leave us last winter, and goand breathe the balmy breezes of a more genial climate. But as he wasgone, and there was some doubt about his coming back, I did not thinkit would be out of the way to try my Coulter a little. I experimentedwith it. It worked well. I tried it in several precincts. It ran smoothand cut beautifully. I am so much pleased with the way it works that Iam determined to enter it for the race." This play upon his name wasreceived with great favor. His old father sat upon a table immediatelyunder the judge's seat from which he spoke, and gazed up at him withopen mouth and the most intense parental pride and joy. The crowdcheered to the echo, and I learned some months afterward that thisremarkable (?) display of wit was rewarded by the clerkship sought.

In these public speeches, and on all other occasions, both public andprivate, this pursuit of office was always spoken of as a "race." Themost common remarks and inquiries in regard to any political canvasswere such as these:

"I intend to make the 'race.'" "It will be a very close 'race.'" "Doyou think Jones will make the 'race?'" "Smith has a strong competitor,but I think[Pg 133] he will make the 'race.'" "I will bet you fifty dollarsthat Peters will make the 'race.'"

To "make the race" was to secure an election.

On another occasion, I heard a speaker who had been a candidate for thesame office, and had canvassed his county, making speeches in everyneighborhood, for twelve successive years. Though I saw him very oftenand knew him very well, I never heard him speak but once.

A part of his speech I could not forget. It was as follows:

"Fortunately or unfortunately, my fellow-citizens, some twelve yearsago I was seized with a strong desire to represent my county in thelower house of the Legislature of my native State. Fellow-citizens, youall know me. I was raised among you. I was a poor boy. I am a poor mannow. I ask you to vote for me as an encouragement to the poor boys ofthe county, that I may be an example to them—that they may point tome and say, 'There is a man, that was once as poor as any of us, whohas been honored with a seat in the Legislature of his native State.'I have taught school a good many winters, and the boys that I havetaught like me. They will give me their votes. I have sometimes thoughtI should have to teach school over the county until I had taught boysenough to elect me."

I can not go through with all of his speech, but his peroration was toorich to omit:

[Pg 134]

"My fellow-citizens, when I look back over the twelve years since Ibecame a candidate for this office, I feel encouraged. When I look backand think of the very few that for years gave me any encouragement,and compare them with the numbers that now promise me their votes, Iam proud of my success. I begin to feel that my hopes are about to berealized—that a majority of my fellow-citizens will honor me withtheir suffrages, and that I shall proudly go up to the Capitol and takemy seat among the legislators of the State. But, fellow-citizens, if,unfortunately, I should fail in this election, I take the presentopportunity to announce myself as a candidate in the next race."

This candidate was like the suitor whom the lady accepted to getrid of him. Though a large number of his fellow-citizens were veryintelligent men, they finally concluded not to vote against him, andallow him to be elected. I afterward saw him in the Legislature, andhe was certainly superior to some of his colleagues. He introduced meto a fellow-member from the mountains who could not read or write atall; and told me, privately, that he read and answered all the lettersthat passed between him and his family and constituents. Mr. George D.Prentice was accustomed to give this legislator from the mountains analmost daily notice in the "Louisville Journal."

After these public announcements were made, the candidates enteredupon their work in dead earnest.[Pg 135] They often issued printed handbills,announcing the days on which they would speak at different places.They traveled together, and addressed the same crowds in rotation.These political discussions between candidates for the higher offices,such as governor, member of Congress, etc., were often very able andeloquent. Indeed, I have rarely, if ever, heard more able politicaldiscussions than some of these. Where they canvassed a State orCongressional district together, they spoke in rotation, an hour eachby the watch, and then concluded with half-hour speeches. This gaveto each an opportunity to answer the arguments of the other. As bothaddressed the same audience, and each was applauded and cheered by hisown party, they were both stimulated and excited to the highest degreepossible. Each wished not only to gratify his political friends by theability and skill with which he discussed the questions at issue, butto secure from the audience as many votes for himself as possible.They were like lawyers before a jury, each anxious to secure a verdictin his own favor. I have often thought that this method of conductinga political campaign had many advantages over that which generallyprevails in the Northern and Eastern States, where a candidate, with noability to speak, is nominated by a caucus, and the parties afterwardmeet in separate mass-meetings, and the speakers convince voters thatare already convinced and annihilate opponents that are not there. Inthis manner neither party has the[Pg 136] opportunity to correctly and fairlyrepresent its views to the other.

But public political discussions made but a small part of the laborperformed by the great majority of these candidates. They solicited thevotes of the people in private, and on all sorts of occasions. Someof them mounted their horses, and went from house to house togetheras thoroughly as if they were taking the census. A story is told oftwo opposing candidates who spent a night together at a cabin. Eachwas anxious to secure the "female influence" of the family in hisown favor, and one of them took the water-bucket and started for thedistant spring to get a pail of water, thinking to make a favorableimpression on the hostess by rendering her this aid in preparing thecoffee for their supper. His opponent, not to be outdone by thismaster-stroke of policy, devoted himself to the baby with such successthat he won its favor, and succeeded in getting it into his arms.The other candidate returned from his long walk with his well-filledwater-bucket, to see his opponent bestowing the most affectionatecaresses and kisses upon a baby that very sadly needed a thoroughapplication of the water he had brought, and to hear him pour intothe mother's charmed ear abundant and glowing words of praise for herhopeful child. The water-bucket was set down in despair. It is quiteunnecessary to say which of the candidates secured the vote from thatcabin.

These candidates were always to be found at all large[Pg 137] gatheringsof the people. They were to be seen at barbecues, shooting-matches,corn-huskings, gander-pullings, basket-meetings, public theologicaldiscussions, and all sorts of religious and other gatherings ofthe people. Here they were busy shaking hands with everybody, andusing every possible expedient to win their votes. My friend, thelate Rev. Dr. W.W. Hill, of Louisville, Kentucky, related to me avery characteristic and amusing incident illustrating this style ofelectioneering.

While rusticating, quite early in his ministry, at a somewhatcelebrated medicinal spring among the hills, he was invited by hishost to go with him to a public discussion on the question of baptism,that was to come off in the neighborhood between two distinguishedchampions, holding opposite views in regard to the "subjects" and"mode" of baptism. Judge C——, a candidate for Congress from thatdistrict, who had a very wide reputation as a skillful and successfulelectioneerer, was present, as polite and busy as possible, shakinghands with everybody, and inquiring with wonderful solicitude afterthe health of their wives and families. At the close of the services,or, as the people there would say, "when the meeting broke," his hostinvited the Judge and several of his neighbors to go home with him andeat peaches-and-cream. He said his peaches were very fine, and his wifehad saved a plenty of nice cream for the occasion. The invitation wasaccepted, and a very pleasant party accompanied him to his house. Whenthe company were[Pg 138] seated at the table, the Judge found the peaches veryrare, the cream delicious, and was profuse in his compliments to bothhost and hostess. At length the host said:

"Well, Judge, what did you think of the discussion to-day?"

"The discussion," said the Judge, glancing up and down the table, andspeaking as if rendering a judicial decision from the bench, "was veryable on both sides. The preachers acquitted themselves most honorably,most handsomely. And yet I must say in all honesty that Parson Waller[the Baptist] was rather too much for Parson Clarke [the Methodist]. Hehad the advantage of him on a good many points. But, then, he had theadvantage of him so far as the merits of the question are concerned,I think. The Greek settles that question. Blabtow may notalways, in all circ*mstances, mean 'immerse,' but blabtezer,its derivative, means immerse—go in all over—every time. There's nogetting away from that."

"What did you say that Greek word was that always means 'immerse'?"said my friend, the young Presbyterian preacher, a recent graduate ofPrinceton Theological Seminary, who was sitting immediately oppositethe Judge.

"Do you know anything about Greek?" responded the Judge.

"Not much," replied the young preacher.

[Pg 139]

"Do you know anything about it? Have you ever studied it atall?" continued the Judge.

"I have studied and read it some for about a dozen years," rejoined myfriend.

The Judge immediately started off upon an episode full of anecdote andamusem*nt, and did not get back to answer the question in regard to theGreek while the company remained at the table.

The Doctor informed me that, as they left the table, he walked offalone into the garden, but was soon overtaken by the Judge, whoexclaimed:

"Where did you come from, stranger, and how did you get among thesehills, a man that has studied Greek a dozen years? Now let me own up. Idon't know a thing about Greek; never studied it at all. I don't know aGreek letter from a turkey-track. I am a candidate for Congress, out onan electioneering excursion. I knew everybody at the table but you, andI saw that it was a Baptist crowd. I wanted to win their favor and gettheir votes. I heard Parson Smith preach on baptism in the city lastwinter, and I was giving them his Greek as well as I could remember it.Now," said the Judge, with a jolly laugh at the ridiculousness of hisposition, "if you let this out on me so that my opponent can get holdof it before I am through this canvass, I'll never forgive you."

It is but simple justice to these Baptists to say[Pg 140] that, had the Judgechanced to dine and eat peaches-and-cream that day with a company ofadherents of the other champion, his predilections would have beenjust as strong in favor of Parson Clarke, and he would have marshaledhis Greek just as positively in favor of "infants" as "subjects" and"sprinkling" as the "mode."

I am sure I shall be pardoned if I interrupt the flow of my narrativeto speak of what seems to me the remarkable fact that, more than fortyyears after the scenes I have just described, I am able to say that the"Parson Smith," so named by the candidate as furnishing his Greek, wasa revered friend whom, until quite recently, I had not met for morethan twenty years; to whose hospitable home, cheered by the brightsunshine of one of the noblest and the best of wives and mothers, I wasfor years welcomed on my return from my long horseback journeys, witha cordiality as warm, I am sure, as though I had been a member of hisown ecclesiastical fold or diocese, who, now in his eighty-eighth year,resides in New York City, the honored and beloved senior Bishop of theProtestant Episcopal Church in the United States.

And I take great pleasure in saying that no bishop or member of hisown Church or any other, who has not, as I have, often met him inhis parochial journeyings, traveled over thousands on thousands ofmiles of the same indescribably rough roads,[Pg 141] climbed on horsebackthe same steep mountain-paths, and partaken of the rough but generoushospitality of the same rude cabins, can possibly understand withwhat patience, with what energy, with what unconquerable devotion, hehas thus toiled for wellnigh half a century for the dear Church andthe dearer Master he has so long loved and served with such pure andglowing love.

One scene in the life of the venerable Bishop is worthy of the pencilof the most accomplished artist, worthy to be inscribed upon the wallsof the national Capitol as a companion to Bierstadt's "Emigrantscrossing the Plains," illustrating as it does the manner in which theheroic heralds of the cross have ever accompanied and followed ourbold and daring emigrants, and in every new State laid, broad anddeep, the foundations of learning and religion by establishing theChurch and the School.

Having in his extended parochial travels become painfully consciousof the need of increased efficiency in the public-school systemof the State, he accepted, and discharged for two years—1839 and1840—the duties of Superintendent of Public Instruction. To thiswork, in addition to his Episcopal duties, he devoted himself withuntiring energy and zeal, visiting and making educational addresses inseventy-six out of the then ninety-one counties of the State. Many ofthese counties could only be visited on horseback,[Pg 142] the only wheeledvehicle ever seen by the inhabitants being the cart in which the lawspassed by successive legislatures were transmitted to the differentcounty-seats.

On one of these journeys the Bishop found at a mountain-inn a Methodistcircuit-rider, class-leader, steward, and local preacher, assembledfor an "official meeting." All hearts beat in the warmest Christiansympathy. As, after a frugal meal, the Bishop's horse was brought tothe door, and he was about to renew his journey, all these heroicChristian workers gathered sympathizingly and helpfully around him,one holding his horse by the bridle, another holding the stirrups, andthe others helping him to mount. When fairly seated in his saddle,the Bishop reverently uncovered his head, and, lifting his hand toheaven, said: "Send, Lord, by whom thou wilt send, but send help to themountains!" to which they all responded with a hearty Methodistic "Amenand Amen."

The method of private electioneering by going from house to house,or attending such gatherings unattended by an opponent, was calledelectioneering on the still hunt. In pursuing the wild game of thoseregions two methods were adopted. Sometimes the hunters went in largeparties, with horses, hounds, and horns, and pursued and killed theirgame by these public and noisy demonstrations. At other times[Pg 143] theywent alone and quietly through the fields and woods, came upon theirgame noiselessly, and killed it by stealth. This latter method wascalled by the people "the still hunt." In like manner, thepoliticians had two methods of electioneering, as already described.The one was by public gatherings and by public speeches; the other wasby these more private and quiet measures, to which they appropriatedthis old phrase from the hunter's vocabulary, and called "the stillhunt." I remember on one occasion hearing two candidates for theoffice of sheriff address a crowd in one of the wildest regions in theSouthwest, each in advocacy of his own claims. One of them was quite aneffective and the other a very indifferent speaker. In a conversationwith the former, at the conclusion of the discussion, I told him that,judging from the speeches, and the responses they received from thecrowd, I thought his chances must be altogether the best for securingthe election.

"Ah," said he, "it won't do to judge by the speeches, or to depend uponthem to secure an election. My opponent is the hardest sort of a man tobeat. He is powerful on the still hunt."

Many of these candidates displayed most wonderful industry and energyin this "still-hunt" method of electioneering. In a conference withthe officers of a county Bible Society, in regard to the time it wouldtake a Bible-distributor to visit every family in the county, for the[Pg 144]purpose of supplying them with a copy of the Bible by sale or gift, oneof them gave his experience in canvassing the county for the office ofprosecuting attorney, told how many families he could visit in a day,and said he thought it would not take the Bible-distributor longer tomake his visits than he took to persuade them to vote for him. Thiswas a new and very satisfactory method of arriving at the time reallyrequired for a thorough religious canvass of the county.

The "still-hunt" method of electioneering also developed and gaveoccasion for the display of great tact and skill in influencing everyvariety of mind and character. Arguments in regard to the questionsat issue were often of the least possible influence and importance insecuring votes. A lady, whose guest I was, told me that the member ofCongress from the district in which she resided, who had been reëlecteda great many times, and was at that time Speaker of the House ofRepresentatives, had often visited her house and neighborhood. She saidthat, when he first began to canvass his district for Congress, healways carried his fiddle with him, and made very indifferent speechesto the people in the daytime, but played the fiddle, greatly to theiradmiration, for their dances at night. His fiddling and dancing, finepersonal appearance, and wonderful skill and tact in mingling withthe people and securing their personal admiration and favor, werefar more effective than his speeches, and enabled him to "make therace" against[Pg 145] all competitors. He was a remarkable illustration ofthe success of the "still-hunt" method of electioneering. With a mostindifferent early education, without a knowledge of English grammarat the commencement of his Congressional career, he was reëlected sooften, and continued in Congress so long, that he became perfectlyconversant with his duties, served on nearly or quite every committee,was made chairman of the Committee of Ways and Means, became therecognized leader of his party, and was ultimately Speaker of the Houseof Representatives through two Congresses—from December 1, 1851, toMarch 4, 1855. With these long years of Congressional experience, hebecame a very effective stump-speaker, and this, with his "still-hunt"powers, enabled him to secure his reëlection again and again for somethirty years, until he quite wore out the patience of the aspiringmembers of his own party who were anxious for "rotation" in the office.

After growing gray in the service, he was at length beaten by ayouthful member of his own party on this wise: It was one of theestablished laws of conducting a political canvass of the districtthat, after the different persons had announced themselves ascandidates for an office, no one of them should call a meeting oraddress an audience in any part of the district without notifyingall the other candidates, that they might have the opportunity to bepresent to answer their opponent and make a plea in their own behalf.A young and aspiring member[Pg 146] of the party, whose father had growngray in the vain hope of a "rotation" in this office in his favor,determined to take advantage of this "established law" of the party,and, if possible, secure for himself the office for which his venerablefather had so long waited in vain. He accordingly announced himself asa candidate for the office, purchased a very superior horse—there wasthen no railroad in the district—published a list of appointments toaddress the people of the district at different places on successivedays, but made these appointments so far apart—some eighty miles ormore—that it was impossible for his venerable opponent to ride thedistance. He had complied with the "letter of the law," but it wasone of those cases where "the letter killeth." Young, vigorous, andpossessing great powers of endurance, he would address the people atone o'clock in the afternoon, and then make a long ride far into thenight if necessary, and start early in the morning and ride an equaldistance to the next afternoon appointment. In this manner he canvassedthe district alone. He made his speeches and had no one to answerthem. He had the fullest possible opportunity to tell the people howlong they had honored his opponent, that he had no further possibleclaims upon their suffrages, and to make very earnest and even patheticappeals in his own behalf. His venerable opponent was not present tocounteract the force of these appeals, either by the eloquence he hadacquired in Congress, or with his once effective fiddle;[Pg 147] and so thisson of a disappointed office-seeking father not only triumphed in thehorseback "race," but "made the political race" for the office sought,and took his seat in Congress. I heard him make several speeches to hisconstituents, but thought them far less remarkable than the John Gilpinfeatures of his political campaign.

I have already remarked that sometimes as many as half a dozen personswould announce themselves as candidates for the same office at theopening of a political campaign. As the canvass progressed, one afteranother would become satisfied that his prospects were entirelyhopeless, and publicly announce his withdrawal from the race. On oneoccasion I heard a candidate announce his withdrawal in a speech that Ithought described the condition of a great many politicians. It was asfollows:

"My fellow-citizens, I came before you at the opening of this campaignand announced myself as a candidate for sheriff of the county. I nowappear before you to withdraw from the race. I have a great manyfriends, strong friends. They stand up to me nobly. Nobody could wishfor better friends. There is only this one trouble in my case—Ihaven't got quite enough of them.

"I have already gone so far in this race that I don't know myself.I have lost myself entirely. When I go into the different precinctsand hear all the tales that they have got afloat about me, and thecharacter that they give me, it is somebody that I don't know anythingabout—somebody that I never heard of before.[Pg 148] Fellow-citizens, itisn't me, I assure you, that they are talking about. They have mistakenthe man. If any of you should want to know anything about me,just ask the boys in my precinct. They know me. They will tell you.They all stand up for me."

I will relate but one more veritable incident to illustrate politicallife in the Brush, and to show the expedients sometimes resorted toby able and eloquent men to make sure of an election to an importantoffice. I had spent a Sabbath and preached in behalf of the AmericanBible Society at a small county-seat town upon one of the large riversin the Southwest. While at breakfast on Monday morning, the circuitjudge of that judicial district, who was a resident of the village,sent his colored boy to the house where I was staying, with the messagethat he had heard that I was going to Big Spring that day, and hewished to know whether I was going in the morning or afternoon. He saidthat he had expected to go there in the morning, but if he could havemy company he would defer his ride. As I had an appointment to meet theofficers of the county Bible Society, and attend to the appointmentof a Bible-distributor, and order Bibles from New York for the supplyof the county, I sent back word to him that I could not close up mybusiness so as to leave until afternoon.

After dinner we mounted our horses and started upon our pleasant rideof about twenty miles. The[Pg 149] day was pleasant, the distance not great,the Judge was intelligent and a very fine talker, and I enjoyed theride greatly. In former visits to the village I had been a guest inhis family, when he had been absent from home, holding his courts indistant parts of his district, so that I had not before become as wellacquainted with him as I was with his family.

I had been greatly interested and delighted with my long conversationswith his venerable mother, and on her account I was very happy to enjoythis long horseback-ride and pleasant talk with her distinguished son.She was one of the most interesting and remarkable women I have evermet in any part of our country. She was one among the first whitechildren born west of the Alleghanies. Her father had participatedin the early Indian wars, and her recollections and rehearsals ofthe thrilling scenes of early border life and warfare, were the mostvivid and interesting of any to which I have ever listened. Born in afrontier cabin, with but few neighbors, surrounded by wild beasts andIndians, the toils, hardships, and excitements of their pioneer lifegave little opportunity for education, and she told me that her entireschool-life was less than nine months. And yet I have rarely conversedwith any one whose language was more smooth, correct, and elevated. Thesecret of this seemed to lie in the fact that she had read and rereadthe writings of Sir Walter Scott until not only all his sentiments andcharacters,[Pg 150] but his very style, had become her own. She would repeathis poetry by the hour with wonderful taste and beauty. Scotch bloodflowed in her veins, and the warmest love of the fatherland glowedin her heart. With a wonderful command of language, with an easy,elevated, and flowing style, she would for hours together relate thethrilling scenes of her childhood, and the varied incidents of herearly border life. Her admiration of her father, and especially of hisbravery, was unbounded. I remember the pride with which she told me ofa visit she once received from a veteran hunter and Indian fighter,who had been a companion of her father in those early struggles andconflicts, and of the fervor of his parting benediction; "Jenny, Godbless you, you are the child of a HERO, as brave as evershouldered a rifle!"

Kind and genial, as full of sunshine as of stories of the olden time,beloved by old and young, the evening of her life was truly beautiful.Many years have passed since I saw the dear old lady, and I do not knowthat she is now alive, but I do know that she has not been forgotten.Her measured, flowing periods still roll on in my memory, her quiet,sunny smile beams on me now, as when I sat at her hospitable hearth andboard.

I was very happy to have an otherwise lonely afternoon's ride beguiledwith the company of the son of such a mother. I had never heardthe Judge speak, either in court or upon the stump; but he had an[Pg 151]established reputation as an able lawyer and eloquent speaker. Isoon found that he had inherited the conversational powers of hismother, and the time wore pleasantly away as we rode on. At length ourconversation turned upon the present method of attaining judicial andall other offices, and he gave me the following chapter in his ownexperience, which I reproduce from memory. In justice to my friendthe Judge, I should say that he expressed himself as entirely opposedin principle to an elective judiciary, and gave this chapter in hisown experience as an illustration of the way in which even a judicialelection could be carried.

"I made," said the Judge, "a very thorough canvass of the districtwith my opponent. We closed our public discussions, and I returnedhome a few days before the election, which was to come off on thefirst Monday in August. My opponent was Judge K——, whom you know asa very worthy man, a perfect gentleman, and a superior judge. He washonored by the bar, popular with the people, and a very hard man todefeat. He had held the office several years. I wanted it, had workedvery hard for it, and was determined to gain it if possible. I lookedover the district very carefully, made the closest estimate I could,and found I should be defeated unless I could make very heavy gainsin some precinct. It was a desperate case, and I could in honor onlyelectioneer on the 'still hunt.' I concluded to mount my[Pg 152] horse andride to C—— F——, which you have visited, and know is about themost ignorant and uncivilized region in the State. I thought it morethan probable that I would find a barbecue-dance in progress there onSaturday afternoon, at which all the people in the precinct would bepresent. When I arrived I found a dance in full progress in the openair under the trees, and an ox roasting over the fire near by. It wasthe last of July, and very hot and very dry. A perfect cone of dustarose above the crowd, in which all the dancers were enveloped. It wasa strange, wild scene—a scene to be witnessed nowhere else but in thewildest portions of our southwestern wilds. There were old men and oldgrizzly-headed women, young men and young women, parents and children,grandparents and grandchildren, all mingling together and dancing withbackwoods energy and wild delight. As I dismounted, hitched my horse,and went up and joined those that were looking on, one and anothersaluted me, very respectfully, with

"'How dy, Broadcloth?'

"As the weather was very warm, I had worn from home a black alpacasack-coat. This was the only deviation from home-made butternut-coloredjeans in the entire crowd. My black coat, therefore, distinguishedme from everybody else; and as I walked about among the people theinvariable salutation was,

"'How dy, Broadcloth?'

"I moved around among them very quietly an hour[Pg 153] or more, observing allthat was going on, and watching for the most favorable opportunity tomake myself known to them and win their favor. At length my course wasclearly settled in my own mind. I saw what would be my opportunity. Icould see that the fiddler was already so drunk that he would fall offthe block, dead drunk before a great while. I had learned to play thefiddle when a boy. I could take the fiddler's place, and prevent thecalamity of a complete break-up of the dance.

"His powers of motion failed sooner than I had expected, and there wasgreat sorrow in all the company. After a while I intimated quietly tosome of them that I could play the fiddle, and they shouted at the topof their voices:

"'Broadcloth can fiddle! Broadcloth can fiddle! Hurra for Broadcloth!'

"'At once there was a general rush of the company about me, all of themimploring me to take the fiddle and play for them. I replied, verypositively:

"'No, gentlemen, I won't fiddle for you!'

"'Why not, Broadcloth? Why not?' they all responded.

"'I will tell you why not,' I said. 'I came here a stranger, and youhaven't treated me with any civility at all; you haven't invited meto dance; haven't introduced me to the ladies; haven't made me one ofyourselves at all; and I won't fiddle for you.'

"But they made so many apologies for the past and[Pg 154] promises for thefuture that I finally relented, changed my mind, and agreed to fiddlefor them. This announcement was greeted with a general shout of joy. Ithen began to brag in the most extravagant manner possible. I told themthat, when they saw me draw the bow, it would be such music as theyhad never heard since they were born. I took off my coat, unbuttonedmy shirt, rolled up my sleeves, took the fiddle, and drew the bowacross it, back and forth, for a minute or two, with all my might. Theyresponded to this very noisy musical demonstration with a scream andyell of wild delight and a 'Hurra for Broadcloth!' I took my seat andbegan to play just before sundown, and played—until the sun was up thenext morning. During the night they came around me, and said:

"'Who are you, Broadcloth, anyway?'

"I told them I was a candidate.

"They shouted:

"'Broadcloth is a candidate! Hurra for Broadcloth!' And then asked mewhat I was a candidate for.

"I told them I was a candidate for circuit judge, and they repeated:

"'Broadcloth is a candidate for circuit judge. Hurra for Broadcloth forcircuit judge!'

"This was as much information as I dared to give them in oneinstallment. I did not wish to give them any more until what I had toldthem was perfectly fixed[Pg 155] in their minds, so that they would not makeany mistake when they came to vote on the following Monday.

"One of them, a little more thoughtful than the rest, came to meafterward, and, applying an oath to the party to which I belonged,said he hoped I was not a —— ——. I did not, in behalf of myselfor party, resent the oath or favor him with any definite reply to hisquestion. I knew that the greater part of the company generally votedwith the opposite party, and that, enthusiastic as they now were inmy favor, too much information on this point would be fatal to myprospects. I felt quite sure that neither my opponent nor any of hisfriends would give them this information, and undo the work I hadaccomplished between that time and Monday morning.

"As the morning dawned, in response to the inquiries of some of themore enthusiastic of my friends, I gave them my name in full, which wasgreeted and repeated in cheer after cheer.

"When I bade them good-by, mounted my horse and rode away, theyfollowed me with their cheers, and when out of sight among the denseforest trees I could still hear their enthusiastic

"'Hurra for S——, candidate for circuit judge!'

"When the election returns were announced, every vote in the C——F—— precinct had been cast for me. That night's work with the fiddlesecured my election."

SOME STRANGE EXPERIENCES WITH A CANDIDATE IN THE BRUSH.

Having made arrangements with Father E——, a venerable and faithfulBible-distributor, to canvass a very rough, wild country, I determinedto visit the county-seat, and address as many of the people as could beassembled. I did this for the purpose of explaining to them that theentire State and country were being canvassed in this manner, for thepurpose of supplying every family that would receive it with a copy ofthe Bible, either by sale or gift. As they had been so much imposedupon by wandering peddlers, I found it very important to explain tothem that it was not a money-making enterprise—that the books soldwere furnished to them at cost. It was also my invariable custom tosolicit a collection for the Bible Society, wherever I preached,however poor the people might be. It increased their self-respect togive them this opportunity to aid in supplying their own destitute poorwith the Word of God.

[Pg 157]

My ride to B——, the county-seat, was through a rough, wild, andbroken region. This may be judged from the fact that the average valueof the land, improved and unimproved, of the entire county, as returnedby the assessors, and published in the Report of the Auditor of theState for the preceding year, was but one dollar and seventy-nine centsper acre. Even this was a little more valuable than the land of anadjoining county that I explored most thoroughly, the average value ofwhich, as published in the same Report, was one dollar and seventy-fourcents per acre. Yet these counties had been settled more than fiftyyears.

Arriving at the little village, a perfect stranger, my first inquirywas for some professor of religion who would be likely to take aninterest in my work, and aid me to make arrangements, if possible,to preach there the following Sabbath. I was directed by my host tocall on the school-master of the place, whom I found to be an oldman more than sixty years of age, who gave me a warm welcome, andcheerfully rendered me the desired aid. Upon inquiry, we learned thatthe court-house, which was the place used by all denominations forpreaching, would not be occupied the next Sabbath, and accordingly itwas arranged that a notice should be circulated that I would preachthere on that day, at 4 P.M. This accomplished, I left thevillage to attend to other duties, and await the Sabbath.

As there was no newspaper at this county-seat, and[Pg 158] but a veryfew families resided there, and only a few days intervening, theuninitiated in southwestern backwoods life will wonder how the peoplein the adjacent hills and valleys were to be notified of this serviceand a congregation assembled. But I had been long enough in the Brushto have no apprehensions upon this point. I knew that they would notonly all be notified for miles around, but that the most of themwould be present. I have found by experience that it is one of thepeculiarities of the wilder and wildest portions of the country, thatthe people will be at the greatest possible pains to notify theirneighbors far and near whenever a stranger will preach, whatever may bethe day of the week or the hour of the day.

I have frequently arrived at a solitary log-cabin, late in theafternoon, after a wearisome day's ride through a rough, wild,mountainous region, and almost as soon as I had made myself known as apreacher, they would say:

"Can't you preach for us here to-night?"

"Oh, yes," I have replied; "but I have seen very few cabins for a longway back, and I can't understand where the congregation is to comefrom."

"We know that," they have rejoined; "but there's a heap of peoplescattered over these hills, and if you will agree to preach for usto-night, you will be sure to have a houseful."

As soon as my assent was given, father, sons, and[Pg 159] daughters havestarted off in different directions to notify the nearest neighbors,who immediately abandoned their work to inform other and more distantneighbors. In this manner all the families over a wide extent ofcountry would be notified in a short time. Nearly all would abandontheir work, and with it all thought of supper until they should return,and, taking their children with them, would start at once for the placeappointed for the preaching. In such cases I have never failed to havethe promised houseful. Indeed, I have traveled on horseback over wideregions of country, where, had I sufficient health and strength, Icould have preached every night to a new congregation assembled as thusdescribed.

I returned to B——, and reached the court-house at the appointedhour. The announcement that they would be addressed by a preacherfrom L——, the largest city in the State, had drawn together anunusually large audience. Before commencing the services, I wasintroduced to the county judge, who was also a Baptist preacher. He,with others, had been informed of my coming, and kindly came to thecounty-seat, and gave me the sanction and aid of both his ministerialand judicial presence. He very naturally assumed the position ofmaster of ceremonies, and introduced me to his Christian brethrenand "fellow-citizens," who not only honored him as their spiritualshepherd, but had elevated him by their suffrages to his judicialposition. He politely[Pg 160] escorted me to the judge's seat, which wasmy pulpit, and sat with me there during the services. This "seat"was simply a high, narrow platform at the end of the room, extendingentirely across the court-house, with a railing in front of it, andsupplied with benches and a few chairs.

I can not here adopt the very common and convenient expedientof writers, and say that the dress and general appearance of mycongregation can be more easily imagined than described. In sobertruth, kind reader, granting to your imagination the very highestpower, I am constrained to believe that you are entirely unequal tothis task. There was very little if any foreign texture there. Theirdresses, coats, and other garments had, almost without exception, beenspun on their own wheels, woven in their own looms, dyed in butternutfrom their own hills, and made and fashioned in accordance with theirown taste without consulting any fashion-plates. As they were bound byno rules, there was variety, and there were very marked displays oforiginality. Best of all, there was comfort, and patriotic instinctswere gratified by the exhibition of domestic fabrics. It was a raredisplay of woolsey.

In addressing such an audience the speaker was always gratified andrewarded by the closest attention. I have never seen such listeners asthe people in the Brush. They gave a speaker not only their ears buttheir eyes, and their whole attention. They seemed[Pg 161] unwilling to losea word that he uttered; they yielded themselves to his power. Theirfaces moved and glowed responsive to his sentiments; and his own mindwas animated and enkindled by this sympathy of his audience. I supposethe chief reason of this very marked attention was the fact that themost of these people read very little, and very many of them could notread at all. Hence they acquired the most of their information on allsubjects, religious and secular, by being good listeners. Preachersand politicians, the pulpit and the stump, were their chief sourcesof education. The school and the press were comparatively powerless.Political, theological, and all other controverted questions weresettled in the minds of the people by oral discussions. Henry Clayonce presided over a theological discussion between the Rev. AlexanderCampbell, the founder of the sect popularly known as "Campbellites,"and the Rev. Dr. N.L. Rice, of the Presbyterian Church, which wascontinued through several days, and attended by a large concourse ofpeople. This debate was but a type of hundreds, probably of thousands,that have been held in all parts of the Southwest. Let either aCalvinist or an Arminian challenge the other to discuss the question ofthe "Perseverance of the Saints," or "Falling from Grace," and, howeverremote and wild the region, the people for miles around would abandonwork and business, and attend for days upon the discussion. Suchdebates on the question of[Pg 162] Baptism have drawn crowds together in thismanner times without number. Any petty lawsuit would bring together themost of the people in the neighborhood, to hear the speeches of theopposing pettifoggers or lawyers. County and circuit-court days werethe great days of the year, when the people left their homes en masse,and went up to the county-seat in neighborhood cavalcades, and hourafter hour, and day after day, listened to the speeches of the opposingcounsel. In cases of unusual interest and excitement, such as a murdertrial, I have known a very general turnout of the wives and daughters,and have seen them sit for hours together and listen to such speeches.As already described in a previous chapter, political discussionson all questions, State and national, were still more universal andpopular, and stump-speeches delivered to these crowds did more todecide the minds of the people in regard to the questions discussedthan newspapers and all other causes combined.

This fondness of the people for public discussion, and speeches uponall sorts of subjects, and the remarkable attention they give to aspeaker, have done very much to develop the peculiar and often veryremarkable oratory that prevailed in these wild regions. Their speakerswere so stimulated by the attention given them, and by the visibleeffects produced by their words, as to draw out all their powers. Whilethey molded the minds and opinions of the people, the people moldedtheir peculiar[Pg 163] style of oratory. They acted and reacted upon eachother.

It is impossible for a man to become animated and eloquent inaddressing an inattentive, listless, stolid audience. I rememberhearing in New England a story of the olden time, when, to avoidcooking a Sunday dinner, a pan of pork and beans was put into the hotbrick oven, after taking out the bread and pies that were generallybaked on Saturday afternoons. The pork and beans were baked in thismanner, and taken from the oven for the Sunday dinner. An old divine,remarkable for his eloquence and wit, on one occasion "exchanged" witha brother clergyman whose parish was noted for the production of whitebeans.

"How did you like preaching for my people?" said the latter, as the twomet some time afterward.

"It did very well in the morning," said the witty divine; "but in theafternoon it was exactly like preaching to so many bags of baked beans."

It is not at all strange that in these times there are a good many dullpulpits. There are so many audiences that, either from their mindsbeing absorbed with business or other thoughts, or from sheer mentaland physical stupidity, are as irresponsive and as little stimulatingto a speaker as "so many bags of baked beans."

But I had no such fault to find with my audience on this occasion. Hadthere been any inattention, the fault would have been my own. The factthat I hailed from[Pg 164] the great city to which they sent their tobacco andother products—the Jerusalem of their affection and State pride—wasof itself sufficient to secure me a most respectful and attentivehearing. I had proceeded with the services, and was about half throughmy sermon, when a gentleman entered the open door of the court-house,halted for a time upon the threshold, and gazed at me for some momentswith that excited and intense earnestness with which a stranger isregarded in those regions, where the presence of a stranger is a rareoccurrence. He wore a black broadcloth suit, and his appearance andbearing indicated a professional rather than a laboring man of thatregion. The sheriff's seat was close to the door, at his right hand,and this was occupied by my friend, the venerable school-master of thevillage, to whom I have before alluded. Turning to the school-master,he plied him with questions for some time, which he evidently answeredwith great reluctance as he kept his eyes constantly upon me, givingthe closest attention to my sermon. At length he turned his head fromhim, as far as possible, and refused to answer his questions. I hadno doubt, from appearances, that in this pursuit of knowledge underdifficulties he was seeking information in regard to the preacher hehad come upon so unexpectedly. After standing in the door and listeningto me for some time, he very deliberately folded his arms, dropped hishead in an apparently meditative mood, and promenaded back and forthbefore me from[Pg 165] one side of the court-house to the other. The ladiesand a part of the men were within the bar. The rest of the audiencewere on seats outside the bar, against the walls, and in the windows,so that there was ample room for this promenade over the brick floor inthe space between the bar and the seats against the wall. I had had toowide and varied an experience in addressing audiences to be seriouslydisturbed by this somewhat unusual proceeding, and, as the audiencegave me the strictest possible attention, I continued my sermon, andmy abstracted friend continued his promenade and his meditations. Atlength, tossing up his head suddenly, he whirled about, and, movingwith a rapid step, marched across the room, passed within the bar,ascended to the Judge's seat, and sat down on a bench at my left hand.After sitting here a while, he lay down and stretched himself at fulllength upon the bench. Finally he sprang to his feet suddenly, and,evidently supposing that I was concluding my sermon, stepped in frontof me, elbowed me back as gracefully as such a thing could well be donein such circ*mstances, and, bowing profoundly to the audience, he said:

"There is a fine crowd here, and I believe I will make a speech."

This was too much for the patience of my audience, and was greetedby a general and indignant shout of "Sit down! Sit down! Sit down!"from nearly every one present, several of the brethren rising to theirfeet,[Pg 166] prepared to enforce order by physical force if necessary.My clerical friend the Judge, who was sitting on my right, arosewith them, and, in the name of law and order, commanded him to takehis seat, reminding him of the severe legal penalty for disturbingreligious worship. Meanwhile I stood a silent and passive spectator ofthe scene.

During my sermon I had been struck with the very marked attention ofa rather short, compactly built man, with very keen, black eyes, whoseemed all unconscious of his very singular attitude. He was in thewindow, at my left, nearest the Judge's seat, and had sat throughthe sermon, squatted upon his heels, leaning his back against thewindow-jam, looking directly into my face, and listening to every wordthat I uttered with the most gratified and animated interest. He wasamong the first to spring to his feet, and stood in the window, hisblack eyes flashing fire, and evidently more than willing to supplementthe Judge's words by any acts that might be necessary to restore order.

A candidate's unsuccessful effort to make a speech.

Order was, however, restored without force. My friend with a speech tomake reluctantly resumed his seat. I resumed and concluded my sermon,and was, in the vernacular of the people, about to "lift a collection"for the Bible Society. At this point my oratorical friend sprang infront of me, and exclaimed, with great vehemence:

"There is a fine crowd here, and I am going to make[Pg 167] a speech. Iwon't be put down by Judge Locke, this man from L——, or anybody else."

This was the signal for the wildest possible excitement. Every man,woman, and child in the audience sprang to their feet, all shouting atthe top of their voices,

"Sit down! Sit down! Sit down!"

One immensely tall and large woman at my right, head and shouldersabove the group of sisters by whom she was surrounded, with anindescribable bonnet of the largest old-time pattern and a dress ofhome-made woolsey, in the excess of her excitement and rage, jumpedup and down, whirling completely around and jerking her head like asnapping-turtle, and shouted at the top of her voice, which rang sharpand shrill above the general roar,

"Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!"

My friend with the fiery black eyes leaped at a single bound from hisperch on the window-sill to the Judge's seat, and seizing the intruderby the collar, jerked him in an instant to the floor below, where hewas reënforced by other zealous brethren, among them my host, who wassitting at the opposite end of the room, and together they "snaked" himout of the house in much quicker time than I had ever seen such a featperformed before. The quickness of the whole transaction was wonderful.A part of them took him to the jail, which was but a few yards distant,where he was locked up. Order being[Pg 168] again restored, the hats werepassed, and I received a collection amounting to about five dollars.

As soon as I pronounced the benediction, the people crowded aroundme and expressed their intense mortification and sorrow at theseoccurrences.

"We've got a pretty bad name here anyway," said one, "and if any suchthing happens, it is always sure to be when there is a stranger herefrom a long way off."

"I don't want to fight," said my friend with the fiery black eyes, "anymore."

The reverend Judge and the brethren and sisters, one after another,gave expression to their deep humiliation, and my fiery friend keptstepping about nervously, and repeating over and over, half to himselfand half to me:

"I don't want to fight any more."

At length, shutting his fist, and bringing it down emphatically, hesaid:

"I don't want to fight any more. But I won't see religion abusedanyway. I will fight for my Master."

Looking at his closely knit, compact form, his quick, vigorousmovements, and his flashing eyes, I could read in his "any more" thestory of many a fierce fight before his conversion—which I could notnow doubt was genuine.

At length I inquired who the gentleman was that had made thedisturbance, and had been so suddenly locked up in jail. I confessI was somewhat surprised to be informed that he was a lawyer andcandidate for prosecuting attorney for the county. This was the first[Pg 169]Sunday in August. The election was to come off on the following Monday.He had been making speeches in different parts of the county every dayfor two or three weeks before. It was very evident that he was not ateetotaler, though, as I afterward learned from himself, he entertaineda very high regard for temperance as a theme for oratorical display.

I learned that before sundown his opponent in the canvass magnanimouslyinterposed in his behalf and bailed him out of jail, being chivalrouslyunwilling to profit by his enforced absence from the polls from such acause on the ensuing election-day.

After breakfast the next morning, I concluded to walk over to thecourt-house and see how the election progressed. As soon as I enteredthe yard, a "sovereign" whom I had not seen before approached me, witha large water-bucket in one hand and a quantity of quarters, dimes, andother change in the other, which he shook before me, and said:

"We are agoing to have a general treat, stranger; would you like tothrow in?"

I declined as politely as possible, and he passed on to the tavern toexpend the proceeds of his collection for a pail of whisky. "A generaltreat" is where the whisky is purchased by a "general collection"taken in this way, and put into a water-bucket or larger vessel, andall parties come forward and help themselves with a gourd dipper. Ageneral treat so early in the morning gave[Pg 170] promise of a lively day. AsI entered the court-house door, my friend the candidate recognized me,and advancing with the most consequential air, and bowing with a greatdeal of assumed dignity, he said:

"I believe, sir, you are the gentleman from L—— that preached hereyesterday?"

I replied, "Yes, sir."

"Well, sir," said he, "I wish to apologize to you. I very much regretwhat occurred. I came into the court-house, and saw that there was avery fine crowd, and I concluded that I would deliver them a temperancespeech. I have a very fine one that I have delivered in Cincinnati,Louisville, and St. Louis, that I was agoing to give them, but theyhauled me out like a dog. I am a candidate for commonwealth attorney,sir, and I suppose the affair will injure me somewhat in this precinct;but I think, stranger, that I shall make the race."

Passing through another part of the county some days afterward, Ilearned that, sure enough, he did "make the race," being elected by alarge majority.

It is but simple justice for me to add that, in all my extended travelsin the Southwest, this is the only instance where I have had theslightest interruption in the discharge of my professional duties. Ihave uniformly had that kind, cordial, and hospitable reception forwhich the people are so justly famed. All my readers will understandthat whisky was the sole cause of this exceptional case.

EXPERIENCES WITH OLD-TIME METHODIST CIRCUIT-RIDERS IN THE SOUTHWEST.

In my extended horseback travels in the Southwest, I made theacquaintance of a great many itinerant preachers, and spent a good dealof time with them in riding around their circuits. I found them, as arule, a genial, laborious, and self-denying class of men. In general,they had hard work, rough fare, and, so far as this world is concerned,very small pay. But they understood all this when they entered uponthis itinerant life. They did not toil for earthly reward. They laboredfor the salvation of men and the glory of God. Their richest presentcompensation was the peace and joy that ever pervade the souls of thosewho, in simplicity and godly sincerity, yield themselves to the toilsand privations of this high and glorious calling. In this the richestpleasures and the sweetest joys attend those whose self-denials are thegreatest and whose toils are the most severe.

Almost without exception, I found my ministerial brethren in theBrush men with perfect health. This I[Pg 172] attributed very largely totheir out-of-door life, their horseback-riding, and the fact thatthey communed far more with men and nature than with books. Morethan this, I found them cheerful men. They loved and enjoyed theirlabors. They enjoyed their long rides to preach to a dozen or more atan out-of-the-way appointment—enjoyed preaching, praying, singing,shouting—enjoyed laboring with "mourners in the altar" until latein the night, and they could scarcely speak for hoarseness—enjoyedseeing them "come through" (the vernacular for conversion), hearingthem shout, and receiving them into the church—enjoyed class-meetings,quarterly-meetings, camp-meetings, love-feasts, and conference—enjoyedthe familiar and affectionate greetings of parents and children, thecordial welcome, and the free and unrestrained social intercourse thatawaited them in their pastoral visitations in the Brush—enjoyed withthe relish that comes from real health and hunger the "good things"the sisters provided for them, especially fried chicken. I haveheard it said a great many times that many of the dogs in the Brushknew a preacher as soon as he rode up to a house, and, anticipatingthe call that was sure to be made upon them, would start out unbiddenand run down the chickens for the coming meal, and bring them to thehouse. I can not vouch for this remarkable canine sagacity of my ownknowledge, but I can say that, when riding the circuit with thesebrethren, I have often seen the[Pg 173] dogs start after the chickens upon avery slight intimation, and run them down for our supper as soonas we rode up, and received from the sister, all aglow with joy at ourcoming, the cordial invitation to "'light" (alight). I speak of all theenjoyments I have thus enumerated from personal knowledge, for I havebeen with many of these good brethren in all these scenes.

But other and strange scenes were almost constantly occurring in theprosecution of these labors. On one occasion I started out with a youngpreacher to visit several of his week-day appointments. His circuit wasknown in the conference as "Brush College." It was so called becauseyoung preachers, without wife or family, were invariably sent there.They were sent there if they had a great deal of zeal, and there wasany doubt as to its permanency; for the trials and discouragementsthey would there meet would thoroughly test their sincerity andtheir perseverance. They were sent there if they were thought to belacking in humility, or, in the language of the Brush, if they had thebig-head; for roughing it there would be certain to relieve themof any inflated notions of self. They were sent there not unfrequentlybecause, in their entire devotion to God and his service, they weremore than willing to go anywhere and suffer anything if they mightlead men to that Saviour whose love glowed in their souls a pure andceaseless flame. Such was the devout character and spirit[Pg 174] of the youngcircuit-rider whom I accompanied on his week-day visit to Rocky Creek.

It was an intensely hot day in July. As we neared the place of meeting,we passed two or three old women on foot, accompanied by a boy abouta dozen years old, who was carrying a brand of fire and swinging itto keep it alive. As the weather was so uncomfortably warm, it wasentirely beyond my ability to comprehend what use they could make offire, and, turning to the preacher, I said,

"What can be their object in carrying that fire with them to themeeting this hot day?"

He smiled as he saw my puzzled look, and simply answered,

"You will soon see."

We rode on to a rough log school-and meeting-house, standing uponthe bank of a rocky creek or "branch," as it was called, entirelysurrounded by large and small forest trees, under the grateful shadeof which we hitched our horses. This was done here, as elsewhere inthe whole region, by riding under a tree, pulling down a limb, andmaking fast to the end of it by a simple loop made with the end of thebridle-reins. This is an admirable method of hitching a horse. Thelong, easily bending limb offers no resistance to the movements of thehorse in fighting flies, and there is no liability of getting the reinsor halter under his feet. It has often been a pleasant sight to me tosee scores or hundreds of horses[Pg 175] hitched in this manner, and standingcomfortably in the shade of forest trees, surrounding a church,preaching-stand, or camp-ground. As we returned from this care of ourhorses, the mystery in regard to the fire was all explained. It hadbeen placed in a large stump, which was burning freely, near the logchurch. As soon as the people arrived, and had hitched their horses,men and women, old and young, made their way to this stump, lightedtheir pipes, filled with home-raised and home-cured tobacco, which theycarried loose in the ample pockets of their coats and dresses, andsat down on the ground to enjoy a social, neighborly smoke and chatbefore going into the house to hear the sermon. When the congregationhad arrived, by paths radiating through the forest from all pointsof the compass, some of the official brethren who had accompaniedthe preachers into the house struck up a familiar hymn. This was thesignal for a general laying aside of pipes and gathering in to theservice. We had been joined at the church by a "local preacher" whohad formerly served in the ranks of the itinerancy, but had "located"in this neighborhood, and, after years of almost gratuitous servicein the ministry, was now supporting himself and family by carrying ona small tannery and store. This old itinerant preached the morningsermon. He was a man of strong muscular frame, heavy voice, and greatexperience and power in moving upon the feelings of his[Pg 176] hearers. Inthe midst of his sermon a woman sitting near me sprang to her feet,threw her arms in the air, and shouted, "Glory! Hallelujah!" and jumpedup and down, clapping her hands and shouting until she sank exhaustedupon the floor. Soon another and then another, until a large part ofthe audience were shouting in this manner. The preacher's face fairlyglowed with joy, and his voice arose louder and louder as the peoplewere more and more moved; and there was a general blending of songs,prayers, and vociferous shouts. At length, with singing, prayer,and a general shaking of hands, they closed what was to them a verydelightful meeting.

In the afternoon, as the day was very hot, it was decided to hold theservices out of doors, under the shade of the large oak-trees thatstood immediately in front of the cabin. The benches were brought out,and occupied mostly by the women, and the rest of the congregation saton the ground. I took my position at the foot of a large oak-tree, nearthe bank of the murmuring stream, and preached to the people groupedand seated before me under the shadow of this and other oaks. All gavethe most respectful attention. During my sermon I noticed a woman whowas sitting but a few feet distant, and immediately in front of me,hunch with her elbow the one sitting next to her. She immediatelyhunched in the same manner the next, and she the next, until the,to me, unknown signal had been communicated in this[Pg 177] manner to thehalf-dozen or more who occupied the bench. During this time every eyewas fixed on me and not a muscle of any face moved. In a few momentsthe hunch was repeated, and they all arose from the bench with almostmilitary precision, filed out before me as quietly as possible, movedaround to the large burning stump on my right, filled and lighted theirpipes, took seats on the ground near by, and all commenced smoking.During all this movement, from the first hunch, they each kept an earinclined toward me, intent on listening to my sermon, and not one ofthem apparently lost a word. They smoked on and I preached on to theend of my sermon; and, as usual, "lifted a collection" for the BibleSociety, which, in this instance, amounted to about seven dollars. Thebenediction was then pronounced, and, in their vernacular, the "meetingbroke." We spent the night very comfortably with a kind family livingnear the place of preaching, and returned to continue the services thenext day.

In the morning I listened to a sermon from a genuine backwoodsman, theyoung man I have spoken of in the chapter entitled "The Old, Old Bookand its Story in the Wilds of the Southwest," as the guide who pilotedthe venerable Bible-distributor through that rough, wild region. Hehad since been licensed, first as an exhorter, and then as a localpreacher. It would hardly be possible to find a young preacher whoseeducation had been more completely that of the[Pg 178] Brush. His home was inthe wild region I have described in that chapter, and his companionshad been as illiterate and uncultivated as could well be found. Hehad attended school but a very few months, and that was vastly poorerthan the most of my readers have ever conceived of as possible. He hadthen taught, for a few months, this school in his own neighborhood, inwhich he had received his only education. His reading was tolerable,his writing passable, his spelling horrible. Several weeks afterwardI received a letter from him, in which he expressed the hope thatcertain facts I had asked him to send me would have due weight—whichhe spelled "dew wate." He was about twenty years old, full six feet inheight, with very full, broad chest, square shoulders, and he stood aserect and straight as any Indian. He had a full head of very handsomeblack hair, bright black eyes, a very mild, pleasant expression ofcountenance, and a voice that rang loud, smooth, and clear like atrumpet. I listened to his sermon with unbounded amazement, and, Imay add, delight. It was a mystery to me how one so unlettered and sounlearned in all religious reading except the Bible—and, in the natureof the case, but poorly versed in that—could have acquired thoughts sosensible and good. It was a greater mystery how he could clothe themin such appropriate language. Both his thoughts and his words flowedas freely as the stream near by, and they had great power to arrestthe attention and move the hearts of his hearers.[Pg 179] It was the powerof undoubted sincerity and burning zeal; it was the power of one withsuperior natural endowments stirred to their profoundest depths, and,beyond all question, taught of God. It was the power of one whose life,whose education, and whose modes of thought were in full sympathy withhis hearers, who had been born in the same wild region and reared withthe same educational surroundings as himself. He was adapted to preachto those people, as the learned pastors of intelligent congregationsare adapted to theirs; and each, with his human sympathies, was betteradapted to preach to those of like human character and infirmities thanany angel in heaven. If it be heresy, I am so heretical as to believethat God has other methods of training some men—yea, many men—to beuseful ministers of the Gospel than by filling their heads with Latin,Hebrew, and Greek. So he had trained this man for the remarkable workhe had for him to do. Several weeks after this I met him at conference,where he was received into the "traveling connection," to enter uponhis four years of practical training and study for the "full workof a Gospel minister." A few months later, in the prosecution of mylabors, I reached the circuit to which he had been sent with an oldercolleague, when I was told by a gentleman of the legal profession thathe had often heard him preach, and always with the greatest interest.This gentleman informed me that, while making the round of hisextended circuit, his horse had suddenly[Pg 180] died. He pushed on on footto fulfill his appointments, and, on his return, the people had beenso gratified with his Christian zeal and energy that they had raisedmoney and purchased a horse, which they presented to him. At the closeof the year his report of the numbers converted and received into thechurch under his labors brought out an emphatic and hearty Amen fromthe conference. The next year he was sent alone to a rough mountaincircuit, where his labors were crowned with still greater success. Aslong as I was able to trace him, his career was luminous with goodaccomplished.

But I must return to our services at Rocky Creek. At the conclusionof his sermon several persons were baptized by the old itinerant, whohad preached on Baptism the day before. Moving a few steps from theoak where I had preached, they knelt on the edge of the stream, and hestood in the water and baptized them, either by sprinkling or pouring,as they preferred. The entire congregation then knelt with him underthe shade of the branching oaks, and he made a prayer so earnest andimpassioned that it moved the people to the most intense excitementand joy. The forest rang with their shouting. At the conclusion ofthis prayer the benediction was pronounced, and the meeting "broke."In all this region meetings were never said to be "out" or to "close."They were said to "break," or, more frequently, "the meeting isdone broke." As we mounted our horses I rode with the sister whose[Pg 181]hospitality we were to enjoy. She was a woman about thirty years ofa*ge, large, and very fine-looking. I had noticed her when shouting,and been particularly struck with the rapt expression of her face. Shehad a very pretty daughter some fifteen years old. Neither mother nordaughter could read a word. As we rode on she was still much excitedwith the closing exercises, and speaking of the prayer, she said:

"I thought Brother M—— would pray the limbs off the trees."

When we reached her home, which was an old log-house, she preparedour dinner with the greatest apparent delight. Her house was one ofthe circuit homes of the young preacher, where he left a part of hisclothing. As we were about to leave to attend a quarterly-meeting atthe court-house, she called him back, and, in a very frank and motherlyway, directed him to make some changes in his dress, saying:

"I don't want my preacher to leave my house looking or'nery."

Afterward I heard of "or'nery" people, "or'nery" preachers, doctors,and lawyers, "or'nery" animals, and "or'nery" almost everything else,and concluded the word was a corruption of "ordinary," though it wasmore intensely expressive as it was usually applied.

I have been asked by those who were aware of my wide acquaintance withall classes of people in the Southwest, if the character of NancyKirtley, in Rev.[Pg 182] Dr. Edward Eggleston's "Roxy," was not overdrawn—ifit could possibly be true to nature. I have answered, withouthesitation, "It is absolutely true to life." The Methodist sister Ihave described above was not a Nancy Kirtley in moral character, butshe was in personal beauty. In her form and features, in the glow ofher face, and in the marvelous beauty of her eyes, she was a remarkablespecimen of physical perfection. So was her young daughter, and I haveseen scores of others like them in the wilds of the Southwest. I wasgreatly interested in a distinction drawn by General Grant, when askedif a certain man to whom he had given an office was not a very ignorantman. "He is an illiterate man," said the General, "but I should notcall him an ignorant man." That was a "distinction" worthy of GeneralGrant. I have met a great many highly educated literary men who knewalmost nothing of men and of the great world outside of books. AndI have known a great many illiterate men and women, with marvelousknowledge of the world, with wonderful shrewdness and keenness, andwith an ability to compass the end sought surpassed by very few that Ihave ever known. The fact that they could not read or write required ontheir part unusual tact and skill not to be overreached, and to maketheir way in the world. I have known several such men who have acquiredlarge fortunes. Dr. Eggleston's Nancy Kirtley is not a mythicalcharacter.

[Pg 183]

After the young preacher had made satisfactory changes in his dress,we all bade good-by to our hospitable friends, and rode several milesto the county-seat where the quarterly-meeting was to commence thatnight. Here the young circuit-rider preached the opening sermon, andthe meeting continued through the following Saturday and Sunday. Therewas nothing to me unusual and noteworthy in the meetings, except inthe love-feast on Sabbath morning. The first to speak was my host, awarm-hearted, earnest man, a Cumberland Presbyterian, who spoke ofthe goodness of God to him and of his love to all the followers ofChrist, and then started out and shook hands with nearly every onein the house, continuing his fervent remarks and ejacul*tions duringall the hand-shaking. Next, a sister spoke and started in the samemanner, shaking hands with the brethren, and throwing her arms aroundthe sisters and embracing them in the warmest manner. Nearly all whofollowed them went through these same demonstrations. They not onlysang,

"Now here's my heart, and here's my hand,
To meet you in that heavenly land,"

but they gave the cordial and often long-continued grasp. As theexperiences, prayers, songs, and shouting became more and more animatedand exciting, the hand-shaking became more general, until nearly theentire congregation, in larger or smaller groups or numbers,[Pg 184] wereshaking each other by the hand, keeping time in their movements to thewild Western melody they were singing. Hand-shaking among brethren andembracing among sisters formed a very prominent part in the religiousservices of these people in the Brush. This was especially cordial andearnest when one was converted, or, in their language, "came through,"after long mourning and praying at the altar. Then parents, brothers,sisters, and warm Christian friends came forward and shook hands withthem, or embraced them, amid a general chorus of songs and shouts fromrejoicing friends.

As I had now visited nearly every part of the county (including severalplaces to which I have made no allusion), I called a general meetingat the court-house on Sunday P.M., and organized a countyBible Society. Subsequently, I ordered a large supply of books, and theentire county was most thoroughly canvassed and supplied with Bibles.The results of this work were of surpassing interest, and I shall givesome of them in a later chapter.

In my long tours with circuit-riders I was often greatly interested inthe accounts they gave me of their experiences upon other circuits.One of them told me that he had joined conference many years before,when he was but nineteen years old. The first year he was sent to oneof the roughest mountain-circuits in Tennessee. In addition to theusual outfit, he had a bear-skin[Pg 185] overcoat, so that, if necessary, hemight lodge at the foot of a tree. On receiving his appointment, hispredecessor gave him a map of the circuit, upon which was indicated allthe preaching-places, the families where he would be most comfortablyentertained, and other items to aid him in the discharge of his duties.I learned that this was customary at the first conference that Iattended, where I saw the preachers giving the maps they had preparedof their circuits to their successors as soon as their appointmentswere read out by the bishop. I was greatly interested in it, as I hadso often felt the want of such a guide as I had floundered throughthe Brush, with nothing to indicate where I would find Christiansympathy and aid in my work. Having reached his circuit and enteredupon his labors, he found it necessary to cross a mountain in order toreach one of his appointments, and preach to the families that werescattered up and down the narrow valley and over the mountain-sides.It was a very long day's ride, and only a mountain bridle-path, withno friendly family on the route to aid him should he lose his way.Having reached the top of the mountain, he found several paths leadingin different directions, all equally plain, or rather equally blind,and nothing to indicate which one of them he should take. This wasa most uncomfortable dilemma. Himself and horse were weary with thelong ascent, night and darkness were coming on, and he had no time tolose. He took one path, followed it to the end, and returned. He took[Pg 186]another and another with the same result. They all led to where atree had been cut down for some wild animal, for bees, or for staves,shingles, or for something else, either for sale or for the use ofthe mountaineers. At length the darkness closed around him, and hemade the best arrangements possible for spending the night upon themountain-top. He fastened his horse, made as good a bed as he couldwith leaves and the other materials at hand, and lay down at the footof a tree, finding abundant need thus early for his bear-skin overcoat.The night wore slowly away, and he did not like to trust himself tosleep; but, wearied with the toils of the day, it overcame him, and, ashe was falling into a profound slumber, the terrific yell of a wild-catbroke upon his ear, and he sprang at once to the back of his horse.Having no other weapon than a large pocket-knife, he opened that,determined, as he told me, "to make the best fight he could with that"in case he was attacked. But he was spared this. There was no moredisposition to sleep, and he could only watch and wait for the morning.At length he heard the chickens crowing in the valley below him,and as soon as it was light enough he started, taking the directionindicated by them. This led him down the side of the mountain to thefamily he was seeking, as directed by his circuit-map. It was near alarge spring, forming the head-waters of one of the important Southernrivers (the Holston). Here he received the warm welcome that awaitsthe new preacher on his[Pg 187] first tour around his circuit. Notice of hisarrival, and that he would preach at their house that night, was soonsent to their nearest neighbors, and by them communicated to all withinreach. They assembled promptly at night, in many instances the parentsbringing all their children, old and young. As the different groupsarrived, the men invariably brought their rifles and stacked them in acorner of the room as they entered the cabin. At length the room wasfilled, many of them sitting upon the floor, the children being seatednearest the fireplace. Taking his stand near the chimney-corner, heintroduced the services by singing and prayer. As they had no candleor lamp, they prepared for his use a "slu*t." The light to which theygive this not inappropriate name is made by putting oil or tallow in atea-saucer, teacup, or any bowl or basin they may have, and placing inthis a strip of cotton cloth, allowing the end of it to lie over theedge of the dish for a wick, which, when lighted, will burn until thetallow or oil is consumed, affording ample light. Sometimes they takesmall split sticks, tie them together, and insert the bundle in thetallow for a wick, as a substitute for the cotton cloth. With the aidof this light he was able to "line out" his hymns, and read a chapterin the Bible and his text. In my travels in the Brush I have seen agreat many of these "slu*ts"—to say nothing of others.

At the conclusion of his services no one moved. All sat quietly, asthey had during the evening. Now their[Pg 188] curiosity must be satisfied.They wished to know all about him, where he had come from, and how hehad got there. They were greatly interested in his account of his stayupon the mountain the night before. They knew all about the differentpaths he had taken, and gave explanations that were quite too lateto be of service to him. At length, wearied with his long ride andwatchings the night before, he fell asleep upon the bed upon which hehad laid down while they were talking to him. In the midst of the nighthe was awakened by the noise of a terrific rain-storm, and heard thegroaning of some animal in great distress near the house. He at oncethought of his horse—that he had been hitched without any shelter—andfeared that in the storm he had gotten down and was in this distress.An itinerant preacher without a horse in such a region would be in asorry condition, and he had no time to lose. So, bounding from his bedin the darkness, he made his way to the door, but it was over a mass ofhuman bodies. The entire congregation were asleep, apparently, in thesame places they had occupied at the conclusion of his sermon. Insteadof his horse, he found that a calf had gotten down, and the waterfrom the roof was pouring upon it. He pulled it out from under thestream, looked after his horse, and returned to his bed. In the morningthe congregation slowly dispersed, and he went on his way to otherappointments around his circuit.

I was greatly interested and amused with some experiences[Pg 189] entirelyunlike these, which were related to me by my friend, whom I havealready introduced to my readers, the first Methodist circuit-riderthat I met deep in the Brush. He had some years before received anappointment to a circuit that was not in the mountains, but in a poor,broken, hilly region of country. Having been provided with a map ofhis circuit by his predecessor, he was making his way to a part of itknown as "Coon Range." Everything indicated the extremest poverty andignorance among the people. The very small patches of ground clearedand cultivated around their wretched cabins, and the coon, deer,and other skins that were hanging up around them, showed that thechief dependence of the people for a livelihood was upon the chase.Penetrating deeper and deeper into this utterly wild and desolateregion, his horse struck and followed a neighborhood footpath until itled him to the back side of a cabin. An opening had been cut throughthe logs for a small window, but as yet there was no sash or glass init. The woman, hearing the sound of the footsteps of his horse as herode up, stuck her head out of this opening, and at the first sightsaluted him with,

"How 'dy, stranger, how 'dy? I reckon you are our new preacher."

He told her he had been appointed to that circuit, and gave her hisname. At this she was all excitement and joy, and said:

"'Light, Brother M——, 'light, sir. I'm mighty[Pg 190] glad to seeyou. Brother K—— used to stay with us a heap, and I've got the'class-book.'"

As soon as he entered the house she brought the class-book, and beganto give him a full account of each member of the class. But he told herit was nearly night, and he had had no dinner. He had ridden all day,and he was very hungry and very tired. She replied to this intimation:

"We'll have supper d'rectly, Brother M——, d'rectly. The pig is in thepen. And Joe, he'll be home right soon, and get the water a bilin'.We'll have supper d'rectly, Brother M——."

To those unacquainted with the people in the Brush, the fact that"the pig was in the pen," and yet to be butchered, would seem to bea somewhat strange reason to give that the supper would be ready"d'rectly." But with her it was a very important advance in thatdirection. The rest of the pigs, of which I have elsewhere said thesepeople, with little care, raised the greatest abundance for theirown use, were perhaps miles away, in some unknown direction, rangingthe forest for acorns, beech-nuts, and other "mast" that abounded inthat season. "Joe" was such a provident husband that he had gone outand hunted those that belonged to him, called them up to his house,captured and "penned" one of them, perhaps in anticipation of thecoming of the preacher. As the supper was so well assured to her,and not dreaming that the delay of a few hours could[Pg 191] make any moredifference with him than it did with the people in the Brush, sheresumed the class-book, and began to go over the names, and tell howthis brother could pray, and this sister shout, and how they couldall sing, and what happy meetings they had had the last conferenceyear, until he interrupted her with the story of his long ride, greatfatigue, and intense hunger. To this she responded, in the mostassuring manner:

"We'll have supper d'rectly, Brother M——, d'rectly. The pig is in thepen. Joe he'll be home right soon, and get the water a b'ilin', andwe'll have supper d'rectly, Brother M——, d'rectly."

Having given him this, to her, perfectly satisfactory and renewedassurance, she went on with the greatest enthusiasm and earnestnessto tell him of their love-feasts, and the wonderful "experiences" ofsome of the sisters, when, in utter despair of getting any supper fromthis zealous sister, he asked her the distance to the nearest familyindicated on his map. She told him it was about three miles. He wentout to his horse and mounted it. She followed him with blank amazement,and said:

"Why, Brother M——, you're not agwine, is you?"

He replied:

"Oh, yes, Sister; I must have something to eat," and started off.

Astonished beyond measure, she called after him, and he rode awayhearing her emphatic promise:

[Pg 192]

"We'll have supper d'rectly, Brother M——, d'rectly. The pig is inthe pen, and Joe he'll be home right soon, and he'll get the watera b'ilin' d'rectly, and we'll have supper d'rectly, Brother M——,d'rectly! d'rectly! d'rectly!"

Such are some of the experiences I have had with old-time Methodistcircuit-riders in the Brush, and such are some of the accounts theyhave given me of their experiences upon other circuits. They are butspecimens of such as were constantly occurring during the months andyears of my ante-bellum labors in the Southwest. Many of themare so dim and faded on the tablets of my memory that I can not recallthem. After so many years, I now, for the first time, record theseon more enduring pages, thinking they may afford both pleasure andinstruction, and anxious, also, to wreath a garland of merited praisearound the brows of those toiling, and too little known, and too littlehonored circuit-riders in the Brush.

HEROIC CHRISTIAN WORKERS IN THE SOUTHWEST.

It was a bright, dreamy, autumnal day, that I was making my way amongthe bayous of one of the most sluggish of the rivers that enter andswell the volume of the Mississippi. My ride since morning had beenvery long and very lonely. It is a strange sort of life to ride onhorseback, week after week and month after month, over a new andsparsely settled country. The most of such journeys are alone. One butrarely meets with company, and then they usually travel together but ashort distance before their paths diverge and they separate. In theselong, solitary rides, any unusual scene or incident startles one asfrom a dreamy reverie, and makes a lasting, an almost ineffaceable,impression upon the memory.

A circuit rider in the Brush.

I have very often recalled, and shall hardly forget while I live, amost pleasing incident in this day's ride. I had recently traveled overa wide scope of country including a half a dozen counties, where theland was nearly as level as the numerous streams that flowed throughit.[Pg 194] The soil was entirely alluvial, and very rich. Occasionally,gentle elevations of a very few feet swelled above the surroundinglevel, which were crowned with large oaks having short trunks andheavy tops with wide-spreading branches. These oaks were usuallyinterspersed with smaller trees and underbrush. As I floundered througha wet, marshy road, and struck a sandy path leading up one of theseelevations, I saw a number of horses hitched to the limbs of thetrees, and soon came up to a plain unpainted church or chapel. Itsonly foundation was the few wooden blocks upon which it stood, andthe windows were without sash or glass, the shutters made of boards,being thrown open to admit the light, and closed when the serviceswere ended. I rode under a tree, hitched my horse to a limb, andentered the church as quietly as possible. The preacher had closedhis sermon, and was about concluding the services. It was the closeof a meeting which had continued several days, in which a number ofhardened and very hopeless sinners had been led to Christ. It washis last appointment before leaving them for conference. The laborsof the year had left their impress upon his whole frame. He lookedwan and worn. He had breathed the malaria of the rivers, bayous, andmarshes, along which he had sought out these people in their homes,and near which he had preached to them, until it had changed the colorof his flesh to a bloodless saffron hue. I never before or since sawsuch a human face. It bespoke a body, soul,[Pg 195] and spirit, heartily,wholly, and irrevocably consecrated to his noble work. There was overit that perfect calmness that succeeds long and intense anxiety andexcitement, when their end has been fully attained. As he spoke tothem of the labors of the year, and of his departure for conference,he was the only one that seemed unmoved. His voice was low and calmamid the weeping that was all around him. Among the most noted of theconverts was a woman who for years had done more than any other personin the neighborhood to counteract the influence of the preachers whohad labored on that circuit, and to injure the little church. She wasfamous as a fiddler, and the leader in getting up all the neighborhooddances, and it was difficult for the young converts to withstand thefascinations of her bow. In former years she had fiddled a greatmany of them out of the class before their six months' probation hadexpired. Now that she had at last been brought down, there was generalrejoicing. It was like the fall of some tall oak of the forest thatbrings down many smaller trees with it. They could now sing, as I haveoften heard them in their log-cabins:

"Shout! shout, we're gaining ground,
Oh, glory Halleluyah!
We'll shout old Satan's kingdom down,
Oh, glory Halleluyah!"

This woman sat in a chair near the pulpit (with her little babe lying,smiling and playful, upon her lap), participating with the deepestinterest in all the services,[Pg 196] and weeping among those most deeplymoved. At the conclusion of his remarks the preacher baptized thislittle child, the mother giving to it the double name of himself andhis colleague on the circuit. His work thus ended, he sang alone, in aclear, firm voice, a simple and beautiful parting hymn, that I can notnow repeat, with the refrain,

"Brothers, fare ye well,"

passing at the same time through the congregation and shaking handswith the weeping class-leaders, stewards, local preachers, and otherbrethren present. He then moved to the other side of the room, and sangon in the same manner, changing the refrain to,

"Sisters, fare ye well,"

and shook hands with each one of them, he alone being perfectly calmamid their convulsive weeping and sobs. The benediction was thenpronounced, and I withdrew as quietly as I had entered, and resumed myjourney. Such labors in such a region illustrate a moral heroism thatis both heroic and sublime.

REV. JAMES HAWTHORN, D.D.

I recall a very different experience with another type and classof these heroic workers for the Master.[1] Many[Pg 197] years before, hemounted his horse and rode from his home in the Southwest, over theAlleghany Mountains, onward to Philadelphia, and thence to Princeton,New Jersey, where he sold his horse and spent three years in theTheological Seminary. He had then returned, and spent his ministeriallife in preaching to feeble congregations that were able to pay but asmall salary for his services. At the time I first met him he preachedregularly on alternate Sabbaths to two congregations about twenty milesapart. In those months in which there was a "fifth Sabbath," he usuallyvisited some yet smaller congregation, often at a greater distance,for the purpose of preaching to them, and perhaps administering thecommunion and baptizing their children. But this was only a small partof the labor he performed. The compensation he received for theseservices was entirely inadequate for the support of his family, and hewas obliged to supplement his salary by other and more arduous labors.He spent five days each week in teaching a school in the basem*nt ofhis church. And they were not such days' work as are usually given toteaching. Immemorial custom in that region had required of teachersnearly as many hours' daily labor in the school-room as were[Pg 198] given toany other employment. Hence he usually began his labors in the schoolat or before eight in the morning, and did not close until five, orlater, in the afternoon. His scholars were of all ages and gradesof attainment, and they pursued a great variety of studies. Many ofboth sexes studied the higher English, classical, and mathematicalbranches, and completed their education at this school. This diversityin the ages of the scholars and the books they attempted to masteradded greatly to his labors; but from early Monday morning until lateFriday afternoon he toiled faithfully in the school-room, term afterterm and year after year. With all this teaching, he had the otherlabors indispensably connected with such a school—the care of theschool-room, consultations with parents, the collection of bills,and all the nameless calls and duties connected with its care andgovernment. When to the long rides and other labors as a pastor, andthe duties of a teacher, that I have enumerated, are added those of ahousekeeper in providing for his family, there would seem to be littletime left for the preparation of sermons. But these were thoroughlystudied, and very often fully written, in hours that most others wouldhave given to rest and sleep.

On a cold midwinter day I mounted my horse and rode with him sometwenty miles to his regular appointment on Saturday afternoon. When wereached the log-school-house in the outskirts, of his congregation buta[Pg 199] small number had come out through the cold, and at his request Ipreached to them. We then rode home with an old Presbyterian elder, thecold constantly increasing in severity. His heart was much warmer thanhis log-house. We slept in a room which he tried in vain to warm witha large wood-fire. But the water we were to use in the morning frozesolid, though placed as near the fire as possible. After breakfast wemounted our horses and rode a few miles to church, though it was socold that I nearly froze in going, and was obliged to stop on the wayto warm myself. I preached to a congregation of about forty, and wereorganized the county Bible Society. Having kindly rendered me allthe aid in his power, he mounted his horse after dinner, and rode homethrough the cold in order to be able to open his school promptly onMonday morning. At other seasons of the year, when the weather was suchthat the people could assemble for worship, he was accustomed to preachat the church in the morning, and at some school-house like that inwhich I had preached, in other and distant parts of the congregation,late in the afternoon. He would then mount his horse and ride over theroughest roads, often through mud, rain, and darkness, reaching homelate at night, so that without fail he might promptly open his schoolthe next morning. I inquired and learned of others the salary that waspromised him for preaching in this manner to this congregation,twenty miles from his home, twice each month. I would state[Pg 200] theamount, but I remember the story, told me by my genial friend, the lateRev. Dr. William L. Breckenridge, of an Irishman who desired to have aletter written home to Ireland from Kentucky, many years before, whenprovisions were most abundant and cheap.

After mentioning a good many things that he wished him to write to hisfriends in regard to America, he said:

"Tell them that I get all the meat I can eat three times a week."

"And what do you mean by that?" said his employer. "Don't you get allthe bacon you can eat three times a day?"

"Yes, your riverence," was the prompt reply.

"Well, then, what do you mean by writing to your friends in Irelandthat you get all the meat you can eat three times a week?"

"Faith," said Pat, "and that is more than they will belave."

But these were not the hardest and most poorly remunerated of thelabors of my friend. In some of his visits to smaller congregationson the "fifth Sabbath" his rides were much longer, and he encountereddifficulties and discouragements such as most Presbyterian ministershave never dreamed of. I will relate a single case. A small churchsome fifty miles distant was without a pastor, and for a long time thesacrament of the Lord's Supper had not been administered[Pg 201] to them.Always ready to aid and cheer such struggling churches, he promisedto give them a "fifth Sabbath." I will here say that there werehundreds of churches of different denominations in the Southwest andSouth that did not have preaching every Sabbath. They enjoyed thisprivilege but twice a month, once a month, or less frequently. Whentheir appointments for preaching were regular, the number ofthe Sabbath in the month was always specified, as, for instance, thefirst and third Sabbaths might be the days selected for preachingregularly at one church, and the second and fourth Sabbaths might beappropriated to two other churches. Or the first, second, third, andfourth Sabbaths might be the days fixed for regular preaching, once amonth, at four different places. And so of all week-day appointmentsfor preaching. They were always made for some day in the first, second,third, or fourth week in the month. Hence the people did not needto consult an almanac in regard to the day of the month, and therewas rarely any mistake or confusion in regard to these appointments.Where several different denominations occupied the same court-houseor building for preaching on successive Sabbaths, this was a matterof great importance. It always stirred bad blood when from design oneither part these appointments conflicted, or, in the language of theBrush, "locked horns." From the simplicity of this method of makingappointments the people would learn for[Pg 202] miles around, and rememberfor months ahead, that a basket-meeting, sacramental meeting, orcamp-meeting would commence on the second Friday in August, or thethird Thursday in September, or any other day that was announced inthis manner. As the "fifth Sabbath" is of infrequent occurrence, youngpreachers often took this day to visit their mothers and sweet-hearts,and old preachers made missionary tours and visited neglectedneighborhoods and destitute churches. It was such a day and such awork my worthy friend had promised the little church to which I havealluded. After his accustomed labors for the week, he on Saturdayperformed the long, rough horseback ride, and on Sabbath preached andadministered the communion to them. But it was not a pleasant service.The day was cold; the church, like others I have described, had noother foundation than blocks of wood; the hogs of the neighborhood hadmade their bed under it, and they successfully disputed all efforts todrive them from their warm shelter. Hence all the services of preachingand the administration of the Lord's Supper were performed with theaccompaniment of their incessant squealing and fighting immediatelyunder the pulpit and communion-table. The long, cold ride home extendedinto the darkness of midnight. How few have ever gratuitously performedso laborious a service with so little to compensate, so much to saddenand distress!

But such experiences were relieved by many of a far[Pg 203] differentcharacter. To many feeble churches his coming was anticipated by allneeded preparations, and he was greeted with great joy by the littleflock. They listened with delight to the truths that they loved as theyfell from his lips. Cheerful homes welcomed him and were gladdened byhis presence. To many scattered families of the church to which hebelonged his pastoral visits were all that they received, and they werethe more prized because such visits were so rare to them.

Faithful, laborious, self-denying man of God! his toils have not beenunrewarded in the past, and they will be abundantly honored in thefuture.

STRANGE PEOPLE I HAVE MET IN THE SOUTHWEST.

I have met a great many very odd and strange characters in theSouthwest. The peculiar life of the people developed their originality.They were not restrained by the laws and customs that control olderand more established communities. Every man was a law unto himself.All that was unusual and peculiar in their natural characters grew inunrestrained luxuriance like the wild vines on their hill-sides and intheir valleys. What any man or community might think of their actionsor mode of life had the least possible influence in deciding what theyshould do or not do. The laws of fashion, generally so tyrannical,were utterly powerless with them. What any one else might think of thecolor, shape, or quality of a garment, had no effect upon them. Theydressed entirely in accordance with their own notions of comfort. Thissame kind of independence characterized all their actions and theirentire life.

[Pg 205]

I frequently passed the plantation of a very marked character of thispeculiar type, who, by great energy and native shrewdness, acquireda large property, and became the owner of many slaves. His dress andpersonal appearance were such that strangers calling at his house onbusiness often mistook him for a plantation "field-hand," and called onhim to open the gate leading to his residence, or for any service theywould expect from a slave. He could read and write, but his spellingwas about as bad as possible. On one occasion he wrote an advertisem*ntand took it to a printing-office. The proprietor, knowing his positivetraits of character, told him as politely as possible that there weresome mistakes in the spelling, which, with his permission, he wouldcorrect in printing the advertisem*nt. The old man was as positive andunyielding in regard to his spelling as in regard to his dress andeverything else, and would submit to no changes. That was his way ofspelling, and his way was as good as anybody's way. It must be printedexactly as he had written it, or not at all. It was so printed; and inaddition to the amusem*nt it afforded to the people of that region, acopy was sent to a large museum in a Southwestern city, and was amongthe most amusing of all their curiosities.

In a long horseback-ride over a turnpike-road connecting two largeSouthwestern cities, I stopped to dine and feed my horse at a houseof entertainment.[Pg 206] Entering a small apartment that served for asleeping-room for the family and a sitting-room for travelers, I meta sight very unusual in that region. I found the walls of the roomcovered with a large number of cheap lithographic portraits of theprominent statesmen and military heroes of the country. A very briefinterview showed me that my host was "to the manner born," and a verystriking and original character. At length I alluded to the portraitshanging about his room and said:

"You seem to be very fond of pictures, sir."

"I am a patriot, sir," he replied.

Feeling quite sure that I should get a positive opinion, without anysort of hesitation I said to him:

"And who, sir, do you think was the greatest man of all the Presidents,statesmen, and military and naval heroes whose portraits you have here?"

"Andrew Jackson, sir," was the prompt reply.

"Ah!" said I, "I see, sir, that you have the portrait of Washington.Was Andrew Jackson a greater man than George Washington, sir?"

"I tell you, sir," said he, "Andrew Jackson was the greatest man Godever made. He was a man of firmness—more firmness than Washington."

Greatly to my surprise, I had found lying open upon a bed in oursitting-room a copy of Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe's "Key to UncleTom's Cabin," but recently published, the only copy I ever saw in thatregion. I[Pg 207] made some inquiries in regard to it, and he told me he hadbought it of a Jew peddler who had spent a night with him. He was verymuch absorbed in reading it.

"I tell you, sir," said he, "the man that wrote that book was a verysmart man. They say 'twas a woman; but I tell you, sir, the man thatwrote that book was a very smart man." In all our long conversation hedid not give the slightest possible credence to the idea that the bookhad been written by a woman. His oft-repeated and invariable statementwas:

"I tell you, sir, the man that wrote that book was a very smart man.They say 'twas a woman; but I tell you, sir, the man that wrote thatbook was a very smart man."

A large number of his slaves were passing in and out of the room,preparing our dinner. At length he said to me:

"I tell you, stranger, that is my greatest trouble. What is to becomeof these people when I am gone?"

I knew that the laws of the State forbade his emancipating and leavingthem there, and so I said:

"I suppose you know that some masters are freeing their slaves andsending them to Liberia."

"I know that, sir," said he, "and I have told mine that I would freethem all and send them there if they would go. But they have told methey would[Pg 208] rather I would chop them into mince-meat than go there."

Their ears had been filled with such tales in regard to Liberia thatthis was their idea of the place. As I never saw the old man but thisonce, I do not know what became of him or his slaves.

In former chapters I have spoken of my visit to a celebratedwatering-place. I met there some very strange characters. My sermonin a "ballroom" was preached at this watering-place. I found it muchmore of a resort for gamblers than clergymen. In the general suspensionof travel on the Southern and Western rivers, on account of the lowstage of the water, and other causes, the gamblers, who usually pliedtheir vocation upon the river-steamers, congregated in large numbersat these Springs. The waters were famed for cleansing the system, andpreventing malarious diseases. In addition to this improvement of theirhealth, and preparation for the renewal of their usual employment onthe steamers, and at the cities and towns along the rivers, they foundmany subjects upon whom to practice their arts successfully, among thenumerous and often verdant visitors at the Springs.

Wishing to avail myself of the benefit of these waters, I spentsome two or three weeks here, visiting meanwhile a large number ofneighborhoods in the vicinity, in the prosecution of my labors. Iwitnessed here the most remarkable devotion to card-playing that[Pg 209] Ihave ever seen or known. The principal sleeping-apartments for thehundred or more guests were in a long, low, log structure, but asingle story high—a series of cabins—with a piazza along the wholefront which served as the general promenade for the visitors. In goingto and from my room, day after day, I passed a table standing uponthis piazza, within a foot or two of my door, which was surroundedby card-players. The principal character at this table was an old,gray-headed man, apparently not less than seventy years of age. Inthe morning he always accompanied his wife to the dining-room, and,as they returned from breakfast, they separated at the door, and shewent alone up the piazza to her room, and he walked down the piazza inthe opposite direction, and took his seat at this card-table. It wasthe hottest July weather, and the old man took off his coat and vest,rolled up his shirt-sleeves above his elbows, and sat down and playedcards, without any interval, until the first bell rang for dinner. Hethen went to his room and waited upon his wife to the table. As theyreturned, he parted with her at the door of the dining-room, as afterbreakfast, walked down to his card-table, disrobed himself, and tookhis seat as in the morning, and played without cessation until thefirst bell rang for supper. He then went to his room and waited uponhis wife to the table as before. This was repeated, with unfailingregularity, day after[Pg 210] day, and week after week. I was told that hewas not a professional gambler. As I passed the table, which I wascompelled to do every time I went to my room, there was not usually agreat deal of money lying upon it at stake in the game—only "enough tokeep up the interest and excitement." But sometimes there were piles ofgold lying over the table, and they seemed to be gambling in earnestand for large amounts.

The devotion of this old man to cards or gambling was so remarkablethat I confess I was somewhat surprised to see him enter the ballroomwith his wife among the first of those who assembled to hear me preachon the Sabbath. I had preached at a court-house, a few miles away, inthe morning, and returned here to address the people at four in theafternoon. There was a general attendance of the visitors, includingthe well-known professional gamblers, and all gave me as respectfula hearing as I could desire. I was furnished with a Bible for theoccasion, but there was no hymn-book. I expected to resort to theexpedient of "lining out" some familiar hymns, which was the mostfrequent method of singing in this region. But the old card-playercame forward to the table where I was sitting, and handed me an OldSchool Presbyterian hymn-book, which I had seen his wife bring intothe ballroom, and which she sent up for my use, as she saw there wasno hymn-book on the table. Some[Pg 211] months after I recognized the agedcouple in a large city congregation to which I was preaching, and wasafterward told by its honored and beloved pastor that the old manwas one of the most regular and attentive attendants at his church,and that his habits as I have described them were widely known. Hismanner was so apparently reverential, and his attention so marked,that strangers preaching there often got the impression that he wasone of the elders of the church. So strange and paradoxical are the"characters that make up the world."

Among the visitors at the Springs was one who was a very wealthy man,a large slaveholder, and a very great invalid. He was a cripple, withone limb much shorter and smaller than the other, and was compelledto use two crutches to walk at all. As I saw him mingling with thevisitors, I observed that he was profane, rollicking, genial, andexceedingly social in his nature. I do not now remember how I becameacquainted with him, or whether or not I was introduced to him at all.But from the first he attached himself to me, and sought my company. IfI sat down alone upon the piazza, he would come and take a seat nearme, and we engaged in long conversations. I explained to him in thegreatest detail the work in which I was engaged, and the operations ofthe American Bible Society at home and abroad. I described to him theBible House in New York, and the process[Pg 212] of making Bibles—commencingwith the printing of them in the higher stories, and passing themthrough different hands from story to story below, until they reachedthe depository, well-bound and beautiful specimens of the art ofbook-making. I told him of the wealth and business character of themen who acted as managers of the society, and gratuitously supervisedand controlled all its operations. Thoroughly irreligious in all histraining and associations, my statements were new to him, and he wasgreatly interested in them. He thought the whole thing was "grand" and"magnificent," and was enthusiastic in his commendations of me and mywork. When I was absent for a day or two for the purpose of meeting thepeople of some neighborhood at a week-day appointment, he was amongthe first to meet me on my return to the hotel, and inquired with thegreatest interest as to the success of my labors. In our repeatedinterviews I talked with him frankly, freely, and fully, in regard tohis own spiritual condition, urged him to make religion a personalmatter, yield his heart to Christ, and live henceforth for the gloryof God, and the good of his fellow-men. The openness of his nature andthe frankness of his expressions upon this subject were remarkable. Hisbelief in the Bible was implicit. He did not seem to have a shadow ofdoubt in regard to its truth. He told me that, from the nature of hisdisease, he was liable to die at any moment, and if he[Pg 213] died he knewhe should be lost. He did not seem to have a particle of doubt on thissubject. Sometimes, in deep consciousness of the struggle within him,he would say:

"The trouble with me, sir, is, that I have no stability—I just gowith the crowd I am in. When I am with a man like you, I wish I was aChristian. I would give the world to be a Christian. But when I am withW—— and G——" (naming the chief gamblers at the hotel) "and theircrowd, I am just carried away with them. I can't help myself. If Icould always be in the company of men like you, I believe I could be agood man and a Christian."

I prayed with him in my room at different times, and gave him all theinstruction and encouragement in my power.

On learning from me that I was a native of the State of New York, andwas familiar with the free States, he had a great many questions toask in regard to them. He had never been out of the slave States. Heinquired particularly in regard to the schools, and whether there wereany schools where colored boys could be educated. I gave him the nameof Oberlin and other schools that then admitted colored students. Hetold me that he had been confined to his bed seven years; that thegreater part of the thigh-bone of one of his limbs had come out; thathis body-servant had nursed, washed, and taken care of him like[Pg 214] a babyall this time; and that in reward for these services he had offeredto grant him and his two boys their freedom, and give the boys a goodeducation. "But," said he, "I don't hire any overseer now. He is myoverseer, and that makes him the biggest nigg*r in T—— County, andhe says he 'don't want no freedom,' but he would like to have his boyssent to school. Now, sir, if you will find any school in the North thatwill take them, I will send them to school just as long as there is anyuse of their going."

I afterward wrote to several institutions on the subject, and senttheir replies to him at his home. He was very anxious to knowpositively if he could send them to the State of New York, and said:"I can not send them to Illinois or Indiana, and I can not understandhow they can be sent to New York. They are all free States." I told himthat Illinois and Indiana had passed laws prohibiting colored personscoming into those States, but New York had not. He then wanted to knowwhy this was so, and I told him that one reason was, that New York wasso much farther from the slave States, and less likely to be overrun byfree colored people. He at length became satisfied upon this point, avery important matter with him, as the sequel will show.

On one occasion, in explaining to him the nature of my Bible-work, andthe extent of the territory committed to my supervision, he interruptedme with—

[Pg 215]

"That will include T—— County, my county. You must certainly come andsee me when you reach that part of the State, and stay with me whileyou are in that region."

I thanked him for his invitation, and told him that I should be certainto call on him. This invitation was often repeated, and renewed withspecial earnestness when we separated. A long time elapsed before Ivisited all the intervening counties, organized or reorganized Biblesocieties, preached and "lifted collections" in the more importantchurches, ordered Bibles from New York, secured the appointment ofcolporteurs, and completed all the arrangements for a thorough canvassand supply of the counties. But after several months I reached T——County; and, as my friend resided some distance from the county-seat,I completed all my arrangements for the supply of the county beforemaking him my promised visit. This accomplished, I mounted my fleethorse and rode several miles to his residence. His welcome was as warm,cordial, and hearty as words and acts could make it. A long-absentbrother could not have been received with greater demonstrations ofjoy. After I had laid aside my leggins and spurs, washed myself, and atroop of big and little house-servants, who were rushing about eager torender some service in welcoming me to their master's hospitalities,had brushed me and properly cared for all my wants, and the commotion[Pg 216]created by the arrival of a stranger at a large plantation had somewhatsubsided, my host said to me:

"The blue-grass in my pastures is knee-high to your horse. Now juststay with me a few weeks, and let your horse run there. The weatheris hot; you are a hard worker. You need rest, and your horse too. Itwill do you both good. Just stay with me, and I will kill my biggest,fattest turkeys, and give you the very best that the plantationaffords."

I thanked him for his cordial welcome, told him that I could not spareso much time, but would stay with him as long as I possibly could.

He then inquired after my plans for the supply of his county withBibles. I told him that I had spent the previous Sabbath at thecounty-seat, and gave him the names of all the men that had beenelected as officers of the County Bible Society, and of the colporteursthat had been chosen to canvass and supply the county. He knew themall, and approved the choice that had been made. I then said:

"I have ordered a large supply of Bibles from New York, and I am quitesure I can depend upon the people of the county to meet the expenses ofthis work."

"Yes," said he, thrusting his hand into his pocket, and taking outand opening his pocket-book, and handing me a bill, "there is twentydollars for T—— County"; and, handing me another bill, "There is tendollars for the world."

[Pg 217]

I was very much gratified with his appropriation of the money, as I sawthat, in my conversations with him, I had given him a clear idea of thelocal or home work and the general or foreign work carried on by theAmerican Bible Society.

A bountiful supper followed, and the evening passed very pleasantly andrapidly in conversation; with many reminiscences of our life at theSprings, and the various persons we had met there. At length he orderedthe Bible brought forward, and the servants summoned for prayers. Alarge number, including the house-servants, and their husbands andchildren who lived in the kitchen and other adjacent buildings, weresoon assembled. The master and myself were the only white persons inthe group. He sat near me in a large chair, thin, pale, and sickly, histwo crutches lying across his legs, and seemed profoundly interestedand impressed. With a stillness that was almost motionless andbreathless, and with a fixed, an earnest, an excited attention, suchas I have never seen, only as I have seen it in many similar groups,they all listened while I read to them a portion of the blessed Wordof God—that Word that I have found so potent to soothe and cheer andbless the most ignorant and the most oppressed—and then we all bowedtogether before our common Father, and in language as simple as I couldcommand I earnestly besought his blessing to rest upon them all, andcommended master and slaves[Pg 218] to his compassionate care and love. As,after the lapse of so many years, the long-closed chambers of memoryopen at my bidding, and, recalling this scene, I for the first timecommit it to pages that can be read by others, it all stands revealedbefore me, so vivid, so present, so unspeakably tender andprecious in its memories, that again and again I have been compelled tolay down my pen and wipe the fast-falling tears that would flow as Ihave lived over again the golden, glorious hour thus spent in communingwith God and comforting his enslaved and suffering poor. The samedivine power comes down upon me now, while I write, as when I kneltin the midst of that dark group, melting my soul with a tendernessso inexpressibly sweet, and irradiating my whole being with a joy sounearthly that I can but exclaim with the poetess:

"Tell us if the gleams of glory,
Bursting on us when we pray,
Are not transient, blest revealings
Of our home, so far away;
Loving glances of our Father,
Sent to lure our souls away."

A delightful night's rest was followed by a most beautiful day. Amorning stroll revealed to me the character and extent of my host'splantation. His residence was a large brick house, standing in themidst of a grove of forest-trees, and presented a most[Pg 219] neglected,not to say dilapidated, appearance. A great many panes of glasshad been broken from the windows; the doors were out of order; ithad been unpainted for many years; the fences, out-buildings, andeverything about it had a "tumble-down" look, and all presentedabout as "shiftless" an appearance as ever distressed the soul ofa neat and thrifty Miss Ophelia. If my memory is not at fault, theplantation contained one thousand acres. It was as rich, productive,and beautiful land as I have ever seen. It lay in the heart of one ofthe finest tobacco-growing regions in the United States. The stock,most of which was "blooded," and of the finest quality, presented noblesubjects for the pencil of a Rosa Bonheur, as they were feeding inhis large pastures, where the blue grass was up to my horse's knees.The buildings I have already described sadly marred a landscape ofexceeding beauty. This was the paternal estate. He had lived with hisparents until their death, and, being the youngest son and an invalid,they had given him the homestead, providing liberally for the othermembers of the family, who lived in adjoining counties and were verywealthy. The place was cultivated by his own slaves, who, including oldand young, I think must have numbered nearly or quite a hundred.

Shall I describe the household?

My host was unmarried. I do not know his age.[Pg 220] I remember that his hairwas so much frosted that it was decidedly iron-gray; but I am sure thatit must have been prematurely so, on account of the great sufferinghe had endured. His housekeeper was a large, fat, gross-lookingnegro woman, one of his own slaves. But she was more than hishousekeeper—she was the mother of his children. Here was one of thosestrange, unaccountable, revolting alliances—far more common than thegreat world has ever dreamed—that set at defiance the laws of God notonly, but all other laws—where the one least attractive of all uponthe plantation becomes the master's unholy choice. It hardly requiredthe second look to detect among the groups of colored children thatwere playing about the yard four who bore to their father the doublerelation of children and slaves. The two eldest were girls, probablysix and eight years old, and they had his light gray eyes, his doublechin, and, indeed, all his features much more strongly marked than isusual where both the parents are either white or black. In their color,his white blood preponderated very largely over that of the mother;their hair indicated their African parentage much more positively thantheir skin. The two boys were much darker than their sisters, and thefeatures of their father were less strongly though indisputably marked.The youngest was a handsome little fellow not more than three or fouryears old.

Here, then, to any one who had seen but a tithe[Pg 221] of what had fallenunder my observation in years of horseback-riding where I had beenin constant communication with masters and slaves, was the fullexplanation of the intense interest and anxiety of my host in regardto the schools and laws in the free States. Here was amind agitated with the most terrible conflicts, the most excruciatinganxieties, that ever raged in the human heart. Here were the pangsof a guilty conscience in regard to the past; and all the instinctsof a father moved to their profoundest depths in behalf of hischildren, who were legal slaves. He knew, even better than I did, theunutterably terrible future that awaited them as slaves. He knew notonly the possibilities but the probabilities in regard to the fateof his daughters, which the laws and the customs of society rendereddoubly sure. It was to a mind thus agitated and distressed that I hadbrought the sweet message, "The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth fromall sin." It was to a spirit thus moved that I unfolded thefullness and the freeness of the forgiveness and salvation purchasedby the sufferings and death of the "Lamb of God that taketh away thesins of the world." It was to one thus involved and entangled in themeshes of sin that I spoke of a Deliverer from its thralldom and power.O wondrous message! Often as I have looked into the faces of the vilestof the vile, I have been thrilled and startled at the sound of my ownvoice as I have proclaimed[Pg 222] to them: "Though your sins be as scarlet,they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, theyshall be as wool."

No wonder that he listened intently, and that his eyes often filledwith tears, as I sat long at his bedside, where he was compelled to liethe greater part of the time, endeavoring to instruct him and lead himto Christ. If I were to repeat all the strange questions that he askedand that I answered—questions the like of which I never heard of beingpropounded to a minister of the gospel before—they would be far morestrange and startling to my readers than anything I have written. Nowonder that he esteemed and loved me as he did! Probably no clergymanhad ever treated him with that consideration or instructed him withthat care and earnestness that I had.

Possibly if I had known as much of his character as I afterwardlearned, I should have been less enthusiastic and hopeful in myefforts to instruct him and lead him to Christ. But it has been oneof the incidents of my long wanderings and extended intercoursewith strangers, that I have made the acquaintance of negro-traders,slave-hunters, gamblers, and other like characters, enjoyed theirhospitality, prayed with and for them and their families, and givenkind and hopeful words of instruction, where those who knew thesepeople best had little heart or hope to put forth such efforts in theirbehalf. At times I have been[Pg 223] permitted and rejoiced to learn that suchlabors have been attended with the happiest results.

When I asked the officers of the Bible Society the way to the residenceof my friend, and told them of my promise to make him a visit, thestrange, blank expression upon their faces told me plainly that hishome was not a resort for clergymen. Their silence on the subject wasfar more expressive than the few ejacul*tions of surprise that wereuttered. No wonder that he took such strange ways of manifesting hisaffection and regard. Once he called a servant and gave directions tohave two white shoats thoroughly washed in soapsuds, and driven up tothe front door for me to look at. He told me he had sent to Marshall P.Wilder, near Boston, Massachusetts, for a pair of white pigs and a pairof chickens, which with the freight had cost him a large sum, whichhe named, but which I have forgotten. He was anxious to gratify me byseeing them in the best possible condition. Indeed, he seemed never toforget that I was his guest, and he was constantly striving to do allin his power for my entertainment, and to render my stay with him aspleasant and protracted as possible. Very often he would repeat what hesaid to me so frequently at the Springs:

"If I could only have none but good people for associates, I believe Icould be a good man. But I haven't got a bit of stability. I am justcarried away[Pg 224] by the crowd I am with. If I could only have you here, Ibelieve I could be a Christian. If you will only stay here and preachfor us, I will give the ground for a church and help build it, and Iwill bind my estate for a part of your salary after I am dead and gone,as long as you will stay. The trouble is now, if we do go to church,any one else there might just as well get up and preach as the manthat does preach.[2] You are an educated man, and I believe you are agood man; and then you are a gentleman. If they would only send suchpreachers into this country, I tell you they would take the crowd.My mother was a Baptist, and I believe she was a good woman, and ifI was fit to belong to any church, I should like to join the BaptistChurch on her account. But I don't care very much about that. You area Presbyterian, and if you will only come and start a Presbyterianchurch, I will do everything for you that I say."

When the hour for dinner arrived, we two alone sat down to a table thatfully redeemed the promise of the night before. We had as nice a turkeyas ever tempted the appetite, and a superabundance of other dishes,"the best that the plantation afforded."

As I could only make a brief stay with my friend, I was anxious toleave something with him that would,[Pg 225] if possible, deepen his religiousimpressions, and give him the instruction that he so much needed, afterI had gone. Sitting at his bedside, I gave him Rev. Newman Hall's "Cometo Jesus"—a few copies of which I usually carried in my saddle-bags.I expressed to him my very high appreciation of the little work, and,in order so to enlist his interest in it that he would not fail to readit after I had left him, I told him how very highly it was esteemedby the late General John H. co*cke, of Virginia, whom I had known someyears before, while superintendent of the colporteur operations of theAmerican Tract Society in that State. My host was of an old Virginiahorse-racing, sporting family, and his pride in the old State insuredhis attention to anything I would say in regard to so distinguished aVirginian. So I proceeded:

"The General had a magnificent estate in Fluvanna County, Virginia—wasPresident of the American Temperance Union, was prominently identifiedwith many of our national benevolent institutions, and was withalvery fond of doing good in a genial, quiet way. On one of his visitsto Richmond, Miss Jennie Taylor, daughter of his old friend Rev. Dr.Taylor, of the Union Theological Seminary in Prince Edward County,had recently been married; and, while attending to his business, heran into the store of her husband to congratulate him. The bride wasa great favorite with him, as she was with a very large circle of thebest[Pg 226] people in the State, who loved her for her own and her honoredfather's sake. As the General was about to leave, he said:

"'I wish to make you and your bride a very valuable present,' andhanded him a tract of four pages.

"'Thank you,' said he, and immediately took from his desk a copy of'Come to Jesus' and said, 'Please accept that in return, General, anddon't fail to read it.'

"But a few days after this the General was in the city, and calledagain at the store, and said:

"'Where can I get copies of that little volume, "Come to Jesus"? I amdelighted with it, and must have a quantity for distribution.'

"'I order them by the hundred copies from the Tract Society in NewYork,' was the response, 'and always keep a supply on hand to give awayas I have opportunity.'

"The General soon procured a supply, and he had so many proofs of theirgreat usefulness—so many of those to whom he gave them expressed theirgratitude, and testified to the great benefit they had received fromtheir perusal—that he ordered them again and again, and scatteredhundreds of them over the country."

"How can I get a lot of them?" said my host, quite fired with themissionary spirit by this recital. I told him that I knew of no nearerplace than the[Pg 227] depository of the American Tract Society at Cincinnati,Ohio, which was several hundred miles distant. He would not rest untilI had written out for him the address of Seely Wood, the depositary,and given him full instructions how to order them. On my next annualvisit to the county I found several copies of "Come to Jesus" in thefamily of a Presbyterian elder, living near the county-seat, and,inquiring of him how he obtained them, he said:

"I found a package of them addressed to me at the post-office, and thepostmaster said they had been left there by Mr. ——" (my host), "andthat he left several other packages there addressed to Rev. Mr. ——,principal of the seminary, and the officers of the different churches."

The matter was an inexplicable mystery to him, and to all that receivedthose packages. They knew him well, and afterward described hischaracter to me as far different from that which usually pertains to atract-distributor. They told me that he was a very cruel master, andthat it was the general belief that he had shot and secretly paid theowner his price for a negro because he thought him too intimate withhis housekeeper.

At night I preached in a small school-house, near his residence, toabout a dozen persons who had assembled in response to the ringingof a small bell late in the afternoon and at the hour of assembling,the signal[Pg 228] in all that region for preaching by a stranger, as I haveelsewhere described.

Perhaps I should say that as a matter of form I asked my host, soonafter my arrival, if he had received the letters I had forwarded tohim, and sent his overseer's boys to school as he had proposed. He saidhe had received the letters, but gave some excuse or reason for nothaving sent them as yet. He ordered them dressed and called into theparlor for my inspection, that I might judge of their capacity for aneducation. This I afterward learned caused a great commotion in the"negro quarters," as they all thought I must be a "nigg*r-trader," andthis examination was in reference to the price I would pay for them.

As my duties were very pressing, I spent but two nights with my host,and left him the next morning, with many thanks for his hospitality,and with earnest expressions of regret on his part—never to see himagain.

A few months later I read a notice of his death in the papers,accompanied with this statement:

"He has left a very large estate. By his will he has freed a part ofhis slaves, and given his plantation and nearly all his property,including his slaves, to those he has freed."

On my next visit to the county-seat, I hitched my horse to a post, andbefore entering any other house went directly to the county clerk'soffice and asked him[Pg 229] if he would do me the favor to allow me toread Mr. ——'s will. He at once produced the volume in which it wasrecorded, and I was about to read it, when he said:

"I have the original will here, if you would prefer to see that."

I thanked him, and he handed it to me. It was in his own handwriting.The spelling was very bad; as, for instance, I remember that "be" wasspelt "bea," and a good many other words were as badly spelled. I haveoften been similarly astonished to find that men who had a great dealof general intelligence, and were most interesting talkers, were unableto spell the simplest sentence correctly. But the clerk told me that herecorded the will exactly as it was written, and that bad spelling didnot vitiate any legal document. The will was very brief, and I rememberits principal provisions as follows:

"I give and bequeath to ——" (the mother of his children) "her libertyfrom the hour of my death."

"I give and bequeath to her children" (here followed the names of herfive children) "their liberty from the hour of my death."

"I give to ——" (another woman) "her liberty from the hour of mydeath."

"I give to my brother —— my fiddle."

"I give to my brother —— my kitchen furniture."

These brothers, when visiting him, had in joke[Pg 230] asked him to makethese legacies, saying that was all they wanted of his property, andhe had in earnest told them he would give them what they asked.He also gave a little niece, the daughter of a sister, a valuablegold watch and chain, which he had promised her. He then gave a verysmall legacy—I think only three hundred dollars—to the mother of hischildren. Of her five children, only four were his. To these he gaveall the remainder of his property, including plantation, blooded stock,slaves, money, etc., and directed that "they be sent to the State ofNew York," and placed in the best schools and thoroughly educated.[3]

Some ten days subsequent to the date of his will he had added acodicil. In this he gave the name and date of birth of each of the fourchildren, in the order of their birth, and added, "These are my ownchildren," and something like an appeal that they might be permitted toreceive what he had left for them, and a hope that they might enjoy allthat wealth and education could procure for them.

But the saddest, strangest thing about the will was its exceedingcruelty to the rest of his slaves. He directed that they all be soldfor the benefit of his children that he had freed; and, that they mightbring[Pg 231] the greatest possible price, he ordered that they all be sentto New Orleans and sold upon the block at auction—not in families,but each one alone. His will directed his executor to advertise the"sale" for three months in the principal cities of the Southwestand South, so as to secure as large an attendance as possible ofnegro-traders and planters wishing to buy slaves. This horrified evenhis pro-slavery neighbors; for, had they been sold at home, many ofthem would have been bought by those who owned husbands and wives thatwere intermarried, or had "taken up" with them, and others would havebeen bought in the region, so that fewer families would have beenseparated. His own relatives, who would otherwise have inherited thislarge estate, were very wealthy, and he knew that they would spare nomoney in contesting his will. Hence he took precautions such as I havenever heard of before to prevent its being broken. After he had got itwritten to suit himself—and I was told that he said he was inspired towrite it—he made a large dinner-party, and among others invited theprominent physicians of the neighborhood. After the usual pleasuresand excitements of such a party, as his guests were about leaving, hecalled the physicians to his room, and said:

"Gentlemen, you all know me well, and I wish to know if, from all thatyou have seen to-day, you think that I am competent to make my will?"

[Pg 232]

They all answered him in the affirmative. He then said, "I wish to knowif this is your professional opinion, and that if called upon you willmake oath to it?"

They again gave an affirmative response. He then took his will from hispocket, and said:

"Gentlemen, here is my will, written by myself, exactly as I wantto dispose of my property, and I wish to sign it in your presence,and have you sign it as witnesses," which was done. Notwithstandingthese precautions, I heard of the will as before the court, of thedisagreement of the jury, and of the inability of the contestants toeither establish or break it. I suppose the emancipation proclamationfreed all the slaves before the case was settled by the courts.Fortunately for his children, I was told that he became so alarmedabout them before he died, that he sent them to Ohio, and depositedmoney there for their support. Otherwise they would have remainedslaves during the controversy in regard to the will. I have inquiredafter these children at Oberlin, at Xenia, and in many of the towns andcities of Ohio, but I have never been able to hear of them. I do notknow whether or not they ever received the rest of the large estatewhich properly belonged to them.

I have written out these facts in all this detail, thinking that theywould answer in part the query whether "anything strange or interestingdid ever happen to a[Pg 233] missionary," and also to reveal a type ofcharacter and civilization with which I have very often been broughtin contact. I knew a free colored woman, and she was at the time avery liberal contributor to the American Bible Society, who told methat her own daughter had been educated at a fashionable school by herwhite father, and was the wife of an officer in the United States Army.She visited her daughter frequently near one of the largest Northerncities, not as her mother, but as her old nurse or "mammy." Her husbandsupposed that her own brunette mother had died in her infancy, and thatshe had been "raised" by this "mammy," as such nurses were called, andhence their great affection for each other.

Within a few miles of the home of my host, in an adjoining county, Iknew two colored girls whose mother was "as black as the hinges ofmidnight," whose white father and master had left them and a legacyfor them in the care of a sister, to whom he had willed a large numberof slaves; and those two girls were trained to call their mother"Margaret," and always to treat her as their "mammy." This was inanticipation of their going North to a fashionable boarding-school, andthat their mother might gratify her maternal instincts by accompanyingthem or visiting them without detriment to their social standing orprospects. It was well known in the Southwest and South for many yearsbefore the war that, notwithstanding the intense prejudice on account[Pg 234]of color so universal in the North, many of the most expensive andfashionable boarding-schools received pupils from Cuba, South America,and other tropical countries, even if their skins were decidedlydark. As colored children were so rigidly excluded from nearly allthe best schools in the country, many availed themselves of theexception thus made in behalf of those of foreign birth by placingpupils in these schools whose tropical lineage was only "asserted" bythose who paid their bills. A few Northern schools, as is well known,have always received colored pupils. Bishop Payne, of the AfricanMethodist Episcopal Church, President of Wilberforce University,Xenia, Ohio, told me during the war that before the war most of hisstudents were those who had been born slaves and were educated bytheir white fathers. The stories that they have communicated to himof the sufferings they have endured as they have thought of the lifeto which their children were exposed if left in slavery—and as theyhave traveled with them up the river, and been compelled to witness theindignities to which they were exposed, as they were obliged to leavethem on deck with the rough crowds of passengers, liable at all timesto the basest insults, while they, as they valued their lives, darednot offer them a father's protection—would alone make a volume ofpainfully thrilling interest. Alas, that there were many thousands ofsuch parents whose natures were so blunted that they cared as[Pg 235] littlefor their offspring as the dumb beasts around them!

But I have said all and more than I had intended, though very far fromall that I could say upon this subject, and will betake myself to morepleasant and congenial narrations of my labors in the Brush.

SUPPLEMENTARY FACTS.

In writing the foregoing chapter, I, of deliberate purpose, suppressedthe name and place of residence of the person whose remarkable historyI have given in so much detail. I wished to make the case less personalthan representative of a state of society now happily passed away. Igave the facts as far as I had received them.

But, since reaching New York, and while reading the proof-sheetsof this volume, I have received additional facts from the highestauthority; and, as the case has become so celebrated, there is now noreason why I should withhold any of them.

In the year 1859, one year after my election to the presidency ofCumberland College, I one day made a very long horseback-ride in orderto reach the residence and spend the night with the Hon. Francis M.Bristow, at Elkton, Todd County, Kentucky. Mr. Bristow was at thetime serving his second term as a member of Congress from the thirddistrict. I[Pg 236] was anxious to see him, from the fact that, in accordancewith instructions from the maker of the above-named will, the executorhad employed him and his son, a young lawyer who had recently openedan office in Hopkinsville, Kentucky, to defend the will in a suit thathad already been instituted in the Circuit Court. I did not find thedistinguished Congressman at home, but was so fortunate as to meet andspend the night with his son.

I have called several times, since reaching the city, upon the "juniorcounsel for the will," now the Hon. Benjamin H. Bristow, late Secretaryof the United States Treasury, Washington, D.C.

The maker of the will was Mr. Lycurgus B. Leavell, of Trenton, ToddCounty, Kentucky. General Bristow informs me that the case was triedbefore Hon. Thomas E. Dabney, at a term of the Circuit Court, held atElkton, Kentucky. The senior counsel for the will was Hon. Francis M.Bristow; the junior counsel, Benjamin H. Bristow and H.G. Petrie. Thesenior counsel for the contestants was the Hon. Gustavus Henry, the"eagle orator" of Tennessee; the junior counsel was James E. Bailey,late United States Senator for Tennessee. As the case was so veryimportant, the jury was selected from the most prominent and honorableslaveholders in the county. Young Bristow and Bailey opened the case.It was ably contested, and of most extraordinary interest, but[Pg 237] this isnot the place to describe it. The jury were eleven for and one againstsustaining the will.

The war soon came on; the slaves, including several who had recentlybeen imported from Africa in the Wanderer, were freed by theemancipation proclamation; the contest was withdrawn, and the willestablished. The executor and his bondsmen were financially ruinedby the war, and only a small part of the estate, some forty thousanddollars, reached the two surviving children to whom it was devised. Oneof them, a young lady, has recently graduated with distinguished honor,and the president and professors of the college speak of her in termsof the very highest praise.

OLD-TIME ILLITERATE PREACHERS IN THE BRUSH.

I have very often thought that the best work that could possiblybe prepared in favor of an educated ministry, would be to sendstenographers through those States where the census reveals thegreatest amount of ignorance, to make verbatim reports ofsermons that are actually preached, and publish them in a volume.Such a book would be the most remarkable exhibition of ignorance everprinted. Any one who has not traveled extensively will be astonishedto learn of the great number of altogether unlearned and ignorantpreachers who minister regularly to large congregations. I have foundthat the deeper I got into the Brush, and the denser the ignorance ofthe people, the greater was the number of preachers. I have seen asurprisingly large number of people who knew very little of the world,and a great deal less of books, to whom the honors of a preacher werevery attractive. I say "honors," for the emoluments were so small thatthey had very little weight in the matter. I have known[Pg 239] them to urgetheir own claims, and "electioneer" with others for years, and with thegreatest pertinacity, in order to secure licensure and ordination. Someof them could not read at all, and many could read a verse or chapteronly with the greatest difficulty, and miscalled a large number of thelonger words.

I penetrated a wild region among the hills, and my own observations andthe explorations that I caused to be made secured for it the undoubtedand undesirable preëminence of being the banner county for ignoranceand destitution of the Bible of all those that I visited. In somemanner that I do not now remember, on my first visit I was directedto call upon one of the preachers of the county, who would coöperatewith me in making arrangements to have it canvassed and supplied withthe Bible. I found his house among the hills in the midst of a vast,dense forest, surrounded by a small clearing or "dead'ning," whichwas planted with corn and tobacco. He was rather a short, thick-setman, with a powerful, muscular frame, and very quick and active inhis movements. On riding up and introducing myself, he gave me a verycordial welcome to his home. It was a log-house, rather larger andhigher than was usual in the region; but it was without chambers, andfrom floor to roof all was a single room. His family, including wife,mother-in-law, and children, numbered an even dozen. I spent the nightwith them, partaking of such food, using such knife,[Pg 240] fork, and dishes,and occupying, with others, such a bed as I can not well describe, andI am sure my readers will not be able to imagine. But I had by thistime become so accustomed to this kind of life in the Brush, that, ifnot pleasant and agreeable to me, it was at least not strange. Not longbefore, in a similarly wild region, in an adjoining county, I had sleptin a much smaller cabin with one room, where the man and his wife andmother-in-law and four children, with another visitor besides myself,occupied three beds. I shared one of them, upon a very narrow bedstead,with the visitor, a neighbor who had called in for a social visit, asrough and tough-looking a long-haired backwoodsman as one often meets,dressed in butternut; and a "chunk of a boy," as his father called him,about a dozen years old, who was placed in the bed between us, withhis head at our feet, and ex necessitate his feet not far frommy head. It is a kind of lodging that can be endured for a night, as Iknow from positive experience. But I am not prepared to recommend it.

When I arrived at this house, which was about dinner-time, I foundthe children parching corn in a spider. The father was absent, and itwas necessary for me to remain until he returned. The mother made nomovements toward getting dinner, and said nothing about it, which was avery unusual thing in my experience. At length the children brought tome some of[Pg 241] the corn, which was parched brown, but not popped. I had bythis time become satisfied that this was to be their only dinner, andate some of it with them. The father returned in a few hours, and urgedme to spend the night with them, which in the circ*mstances I was gladto do; I could easily have gone farther and fared worse. He soon tooka bag and went through the woods a mile or two to a neighbor's, andreturned with some corn-meal and a piece of bacon. The entirely emptylarder being thus replenished, a meal was soon cooked, and I sat downto what was to me both a dinner and supper of corn-dodger and friedbacon. I called upon some of the families in this neighborhood, andsome months after met one of the young ladies at the county-seat. Intalking with her in regard to this visit, I said:

"I was told that a number of the young women in your neighborhood cannot read."

"Oh!" said she, "there are but two there that can read."

And yet I was told that there were two or three resident preachersthere, but I had not time to call upon them. As the kind of foodand lodging that I have described were so common to me, the chief"variety" that was the "spice" of my itinerant "life" was in the variedcharacters that I met. And I rarely found this "spice" of intenserflavor than in my own profession, among some of the preachers that Ifound[Pg 242] in the Brush. The one that I had sought out, and with whosefamily I had spent the night, was one of the most remarkable of histype with whom I became acquainted.

In the morning he mounted his horse and rode with me to visit andconfer with several of the leading citizens of the county in regard toits exploration, and to spend the following day, which was the Sabbath,in visiting two different and distant congregations, for the purpose ofpresenting the matter to them, and "lifting collections" in its aid. Werode several miles through the woods, only occasionally passing a smallcabin and clearing, and made our first call at a log-house, where myclerical friend and guide was evidently a very great favorite. Here wewere urged to have our horses put in the stable, and remain to dinner.We assented to this, and arrangements were at once made for conveninga Bible committee, at a house in the neighborhood, that afternoon, andfor religious services in the house at which we had stopped to dinethat night. The husband and children at once started out to circulatethese notices, and the wife began her preparations for our dinner.She was apparently about thirty years old, above the medium size,in a region of country where the most of the women were very large,with a bright, pleasant face, a cheerful, happy disposition, and verycordial and enthusiastic manners. The log-house, though not of thebest,[Pg 243] was decidedly of the better class; and our dinner, both in itsquality and the manner in which it was served, was a great improvementupon my breakfast, and the supper the night before. It was a happygroup. Conversation was cheerful and animated, and geniality and joyglowed in all faces and pervaded all hearts. Some time after dinner Istarted with my clerical friend on foot through the woods to meet theBible committee. After a pleasant interchange of views, we appointed acolporteur to canvass the county, and adjourned. At once we receivedearnest invitations from different ones to go home with them to supper.They were unwilling that the family upon which we had first calledshould monopolize the pleasure and honor of entertaining us. I leftmy clerical friend to settle this matter, and we went a mile or twoin another direction, where we were hospitably entertained at supper.We then returned to the house where we had dined, and it was soonfilled with people, who had assembled upon this brief notice. It wasarranged that instead of a sermon a chapter should be read, and each ofus should occupy a portion of the time in brief addresses. My friendread the chapter. I was astonished. I had never heard the like at anypublic religious service. Many of the words were mispronounced andentirely miscalled, and it would have been difficult to understand whatwas meant, from his reading of the passage. But both his reading andremarks[Pg 244] were very well received, and I saw no one who seemed to noticethat there was anything out of the way with either. I followed him withsome remarks, and the meeting seemed to be greatly enjoyed by all. Thenbegan a very spirited contest as to where we should go and spend thenight. There were many claimants for the honor.

"You must go home with me," said one.

"No," said another, "you had Brother A—— when he was here, and youcan't have these preachers. They must go with me."

"No," said still another, "you've had the preachers a heap of timessince I have. I hain't had nary one in a long time, and they must gohum and stay with me."

For myself, wearied as I was with the varied labors of the day, Ishould have greatly preferred remaining with the family where I was.But I left the matter for them to decide, and we soon started out, andtaking a footpath through the underbrush, among the large forest-trees,we went in the darkness a mile or two, to an entirely new cabin. Thelogs had been peeled, and it looked very clean and nice. A large firewas soon blazing upon a hearth made of fresh earth, and roaring up achimney made of split sticks covered with mud. It was the home of ayoung couple, who had but recently married and commenced housekeeping.There were two beds in the room.[Pg 245] We sat before the bright fire andtalked for some time, until I told them how weary I was, and theypointed out the bed which the preacher and I were to occupy. The roomwas new and bright, and the sense of cleanliness was most gratefulto my feelings. I thought that in that new house I should enjoy thatrare luxury in the cabins in the Brush, a nice, untenanted bed anda pleasant sleep. As I turned down the blankets and moved my pillowto adjust it, I saw what I at first thought was a drop of molassesdried on the sheet. I impulsively moved my finger toward the spotto ascertain what it was, and it ran! My pleasant dreams were allbanished, and I plunged in, in desperation, to share my bed withsuch company as for months and years I had found in so many of thelog-houses in the Brush. The mild climate and the habits of the peopleconspired to make the beds quite too populous and repulsive to bedescribed.

Though my meals were often such that only necessity compelled me topartake of them, yet the want of beds fit to be occupied by a humanbeing, after my long, hard days' rides, was by far the greatest ofall my privations and trials in the Brush. If I were to describe allthat I have seen and endured in this matter, it would not only bevery unpleasant and repulsive reading, but would surpass belief withall those not personally familiar with the country and the peopledescribed.

[Pg 246]

After breakfast the next morning we walked back to the house where wehad first called and left our horses, and sat with the family until itwas time to leave for church. As we sat together, my clerical friend,who was of an inquiring mind, turned to me and said, "How do you preachthe first seven verses of the twelfth chapter of Ecclesiastes?"

I must here say that, in common with the great majority of his class,he used the word "preach" in the sense of "explain." My friend theRev. Dr. S.H. Tyng, of New York, once told me that while preaching ina Southern State, in the early part of his ministry, a preacher ofthis class made him a visit. Seeing a pile of manuscripts upon hisstudy-table, he inquired what they were, and was told that they weresermons.

"Why!" said he, in astonishment, "how many texts can you preach?"

These men were accustomed to "study" a passage in their manner, andform some opinions in regard to its meaning, and then they "preached"(explained) it on all occasions, with the most positive assurancein regard to the correctness of their views. Hence, when my friendasked me how I "preached" the passage alluded to, he wished from me afull exposition. Taking a Bible from the mantel-piece above the largefireplace, he turned to the chapter and read the first verse, as he hadread the night before, and said to me, "How do you preach that?"

[Pg 247]

I gave my views of the passage in as few words as possible, and then heproceeded at much greater length to tell how he "preached" it.

As he concluded, the good sister, who had listened with face all aglowwith delight, exclaimed: "Ah! Brother P—— has studied that!"

In this manner he read, and we gave our views of each of the sevenverses.

His "preach" was in each case much longer than mine, and invariablydrew from the attentively listening sister the fervent expressionof rapt admiration and delight: "Ah! Brother P—— has studiedthat!"

I am sorry that I can not tell my readers how he "preached" the entirepassage; but it was so utterly strange, and so entirely unlike anythingI had ever conceived of as possible to be said in explanation ofthis or any other passage of Scripture, that I confess I was obligedto exert myself to the utmost to maintain the gravity becoming myposition. If I had smiled, I should have given great offense to thedelighted sister, for no enthusiastic lady that I ever saw was moreproud of her pastor than she was of her preacher at that moment. Soearnest were my efforts to maintain my dignity, and not dishonor myexalted position as an agent of the American Bible Society, that Icould not afterward recall his explanations but of two of the passages.I will give but one of them: "'Or ever the silver cord be loosed.' Thedoctors[Pg 248] say that there is a cord that runs from the nape of the neck,down the backbone, through the small of the back, into the heart, rightthar; and that when a man dies that cord always snaps: that is thesilver cord loosed."(!)

"Ah!" said the sister, her face radiant with delight, "Brother P——has studied that!"

I will only add that this is a fair illustration of his explanationsof all the other verses. If I might moralize upon this subject, Iwould repeat the opening sentence of this chapter: "I have very oftenthought that the best work that could possibly be prepared in favor ofan educated ministry, would be to send stenographers throughout theBrush, to make verbatim reports of sermons that are actuallypreached, and publish them in a volume." Soon after this exposition, wemounted our horses and attended services at two different appointments,Brother P—— preaching at one of them. About a year after this I sawhim regularly ordained to the full work of a minister of the gospel.

There are books containing "plans" or "skeletons" of sermons, and someclergymen are said to make free use of them in the preparation of theirsermons. I will give one which may aid some limping preacher who needssuch helps, and hereby offer it as a contribution to the next volume ofskeleton sermons that may be compiled. The sermon was preached to quitea large congregation in a grove, where I was present and occupied[Pg 249] the"stand" with the preacher. His text was Job xxvi, 14: "Lo, these areparts of his ways: but how little a portion is heard of him? but thethunder of his power who can understand?" After an introduction thatwas quite as appropriate to any other verse in the Bible as to this,the preacher said:

"In further discoursing upon this passage, I shall, in the first place,review the chapter, and show what is meant by the word 'these.' Ishall, in the second place, mention some of the works of God. I shall,in the third place, conclude, according to circ*mstances, light andliberty being given."

I must say to my readers, in explanation of his "third place," thatthe "plan" and effort in sermons, addresses to juries, political andall other speeches in the Southwest, was to wind up with as grand andstirring a conclusion as possible. Here the congregation was to bedeeply moved, the jury to be melted, and the crowd to demonstrate bytheir applause how they would vote. These perorations often remindedme of the manner in which the stage-coaches of the olden time usedto drive into my native village, in the days of my boyhood; when thedriver cracked his long whip, blew stirring blasts from his tin horn,and his four horses rushed up to the village tavern on the jump, hisnoisy demonstrations startling all the villagers. It was so with thesesermons and speeches. However lame and limping in their progress, therewas always, if possible,[Pg 250] a rousing conclusion, a demonstrative driveinto town. Hence, my clerical friend did not wish to embarrass himselfby announcing definitely what he would say in his conclusion; but lefthimself free to soar and roar "according to circ*mstances, light andliberty being given." He went through with his sermon according to his"plan," but his conclusion did not arouse and move his audience likemany that I have heard.

I have already spoken of the genial friend to whom I sold my faithfulhorse, and of the accounts that he gave me of the preachers he hadknown and the preaching he had heard. He told me that upon one occasionhe heard the funeral sermon of a child preached from the text, "Write,Blessed are the dead," etc. The preacher was so ignorant in regard tospelling that he supposed the "write" in the text was "right," notwrong, and he endeavored to comfort the parents by showing them that itwas "right" that people should suffer affliction, "right" that theirchildren should sicken and die, and that all the Lord's dealings withhis people were "right."

On another occasion he attended a meeting where a number of ministerswere present, and the opening sermon was preached by an oldacquaintance and friend, who owned a good plantation, a number ofslaves, and for many years preached regularly on alternate Sabbathsto two quite large congregations. There are many thousands of peoplewho rarely, if ever, hear a sermon[Pg 251] from an educated minister.These people have strong and well-defined notions as to the kind ofpreaching that suits them. If the preacher ranges extensively overthe Bible, and quotes a great deal of Scripture without any regardto its appropriateness or connection with the text, they say of himapprovingly: "He's a Scripter preacher. He's not a larnt man, but he'sa real Scripter preacher." Hence, many of these preachers range overboth the Old and New Testaments in every sermon, and quote as much asthey can, with as little connection as a page in the dictionary.

The preacher on this occasion took for his text the words: "The nameof the Lord is a strong tower; the righteous runneth into it, and issafe." He described these towers as places of safety, ranged throughthe Old Testament, and, coming down to the New, said: "The worldwas then in an awful condition; there were no towers, no places ofsafety! The whole generation was without a tower! You may say: 'Howdo you know this is so? You haven't much learning. You haven't readmany histories.' Ah! but I've got Scripter for it. I don't want anyhistories when I've got the Bible for it. Here it is. Peter, preachingto them on the day of Pentecost, said, 'Save yourselves from thisuntowered generation.'"

After the meeting "broke," and they mounted their horses to ride todinner, my old friend said to the preacher:

[Pg 252]

"Why, Brother Mansfield, you made a great mistake in your sermon thismorning."

"Mistake!" said he, "what was it, Brother Roach?"

"Why, that about the 'untowered generation.' It is not untowered,"said he; "it is untoward. It is, 'Save yourselves from this untowardgeneration.'"

The preacher dropped his head, thought a moment, and then said:

"There can't be any mistake about that. Why, I've preached it that waymore than a dozen times."

When they reached the house where they were to dine, they found adictionary, and that was appealed to to settle the matter. Alas, thatthe verdict spoiled a favorite sermon!

I was about as much astonished at the facts I heard in regard to thesalaries that were paid to these preachers, with all the formalities ofa regular contract, as at anything I ever learned in regard to theirpreaching. I once occupied the pulpit with one of them, in a churchwhich was a large, barn-like brick structure, having four doors, onenear each corner, for the ingress and egress of the congregation.This preacher was a great favorite in the region, with both the whiteand colored people, and was familiarly known as "Jimmy B——." He hadstentorian lungs, was wonderfully voluble, and his sing-song "holytone" was most delightful to his audience. It was a warm summer day,and the house was packed with whites dressed in butternut jeans, andgroups of[Pg 253] colored people were standing outside near each open window.It was a monthly service, and all seemed to enjoy it greatly.

In the afternoon, after the custom of the Southwest, he preached tothe "servants," and I again occupied a seat in the pulpit with him.His colored audience was moved by his stentorian voice and avalancheof words to the extremest excitement and joy. At the conclusion of hissermon they could not separate without singing some of their "breaking"songs, and all marching by the pulpit and shaking hands with thepreachers. This hand-shaking was one of the most marked features oftheir religious services, and these "breaking" or parting exerciseshave afforded me the opportunity of hearing the grandest, wildest, mostbeautiful and genuine African melodies to which I have ever listened.As I was a "visiting brother," I was entitled to as warm and cordiala greeting as the one who had preached. The leader commenced a hymnfamiliar to the large audience, and they began to sing and move inprocession by the low pulpit where we were standing, shaking hands witheach of us as they passed. As the long procession filed by, their darkfaces shining with delight, the music arose louder, wilder, and moreexciting, until they seemed entirely unconscious of the strength of thegrip they gave my poor, suffering hand. I was unwilling to mar theirjoy by withdrawing it altogether, and, to save it from being utterlycrushed, I resorted to the expedient[Pg 254] of suddenly clutching the endof the fingers of each hand that was extended to me by the excitedand happy singers, and so they were unable to give me their vise-likesqueeze, and I escaped comparatively unharmed. The hand-shaking ended,the meeting "broke," and they all dispersed, masters and slaves highlydelighted with the preacher and all the services of the day.

My host upon this occasion was the hotel-keeper of the place. Intalking with him about the great popularity of this preacher, he saidthat, if equally extended notice should be given that he would preachthere on one Sabbath, and the Rev. Dr. Young, the learned and eloquentPresident of the college at Danville, would preach there on another,Jimmy B—— would call together the largest audience. At another place,when quite a number of persons were present, reference was made to thesalary that was received by this popular favorite. I made particularinquiries upon this subject, and learned that the church negotiatedwith him to preach for them one Sabbath each month during the year, forone dollar a Sabbath. Hence, they paid him twelve dollars a year forone fourth of his time. Some of them thought that as neither he nor anyother good hand could at that time get more than fifty cents a day formauling rails, hoeing corn, or any other labor, this salary was ratherexcessive; but in consideration of the fact that he had to leave homeon Saturday evening[Pg 255] in order to meet his appointment, and furnish hisown riding-nag, they magnanimously voted him the full dollar a Sunday,"for one fourth of his time." I was informed that he preached to otherchurches, but did not learn that any of them paid him a larger salary.In another place that I visited, the Rev. James L—— had preached tothe same church twenty-one years, and he said the largest sum he hadever received for preaching in any one year was twenty dollars, and hehad often received less than ten dollars! Very many of these churcheswere entirely satisfied if they had regular preaching once a month.In riding through the Brush, I used often to gratify my curiosityby making inquiries in regard to the salaries received by those whopreached in the churches that I passed. Once, in riding late in theevening, I overtook—or, in the vernacular of the region, "met upwith"—a boy some twelve or fourteen years old, who was riding a mule.After exchanging "howd'ys," I found him very loquacious, and disposedto enlighten me in regard to everything in the neighborhood. I askedhim what salary they paid their preacher. "Oh!" said he, "they pay theone they have got now right smart. They give him a dollar and a half aSunday."

We passed a church where the members washed one another's feet at eachcommunion. I made some inquiries in regard to the ceremony, and he toldme the brethren washed only the brethren's feet, and the sisters[Pg 256] thesisters' feet. I told him that I supposed they only sprinkled waterupon their feet—they did not wash much. "Oh!" said he, "sometimesthey gets happy, and washes right hard." I had spent a Sabbath at ameeting in the woods with the poet of this denomination, and purchasedof him a hymn-book that he had been duly authorized to compile andpublish for them, containing some hymns that he had written to be sungat these feet-washing services. He was one of the most illiterate menI ever met. I regret to say that I have lost the book, and can nottranscribe some of these original hymns for the benefit of my readers.I had a good deal of conversation with this "poet," and he told me hewas at the time engaged in teaching school. I afterward met the schoolcommissioner, a lawyer, at the county-seat, who had examined him andgiven him his license to teach, and rallied him jocosely for giving aman that was so ignorant, authority to teach a public school.

"Oh!" said he, "I only certified that he was competent to teach inthat neighborhood."

For years I was accustomed to avail myself of every opportunity ofhearing these illiterate preachers, both white and colored, consistentwith my other duties. It was a new and interesting study to me.Sometimes I got rare kernels of wheat in the midst of a great deal ofchaff, rich nuggets of gold among a great deal of sand and rubbish;and I always felt more than repaid[Pg 257] for the time thus expended. Itwas interesting to observe the workings of minds, often of superiornatural powers, in their attempts to elucidate the Scriptures. Itwas especially strange to hear them render any Scripture narrative,entirely in their own Brush vernacular. I have often regretted that Idid not take down many of these narratives of Bible facts at the timeI heard them. But the unusual sight of a person thus employed in acongregation would attract more attention than the preacher himself,and I was therefore unwilling to do it. But I can give my readers avery correct idea of these narratives.

In riding through a very rough, wild region, I fell in company with agentleman on horseback, and rode some distance with him. He told methat a preacher, who was so illiterate that it was with the greatestdifficulty that he could study out a chapter in the Bible, sometimespreached in a log school-house in his neighborhood, and he had heardhim the Sabbath before. It was in a region where a rough-and-tumblefight would attract more attention than anything else. The preacherhad a theme of the deepest interest to himself and the most of hiscongregation. This gentleman gave me quite a full outline of thediscourse, and I write it out from his description, and fill it up asmy extended acquaintance with these people, and knowledge of theirvernacular, derived from years of constant mingling with them, enableme to do.

[Pg 258]

"Last week, my breethrin, as I was a-readin' my Bible, I found a storyof a big fight (1 Samuel, xvii). It was powerful interestin', and Istudied it 'most all the week. There was two armies campin' on twomountains right fornenst each other; and a holler and, I reckon, somegood bottom-land and a medder-lot lying between 'em. In one of thearmies there was a big feller—a whoppin', great, big feller—and everyday he went down into the medder-lot and looked up the hill to t'othercamp, and jest dared 'em! He told 'em to pick their best man and sendhim down, and he'd fight him. And he jest strutted around there inhis soger-close, and waited for 'em to send on their man. And suchsoger-close I never heerd tell on afore. He had a brass cap and brasstrousers, and a coat made like mail-bags where they are all ironed andriveted together. But the fellers in t'other camp just clean flunked.They darn't fight the big feller, nary one of 'em. They jest allsneaked away, and the big feller he went back to camp. But he didn'tquit thar, the big feller didn't. He was spilin' for a fight, and hewas bound to have it. He jest went down into the bottom-land, into themedder-lot, every day, mornin' and evenin', and dared 'em and dared'em. I tell you he did pester 'em mightily. The old feller, Saul, thegineral, he felt more chawed up and meaner than the sogers, and, whenhe couldn't stan' it no longer, he told the boys if any of 'em would[Pg 259]go down and lick that big feller he'd give him his gal, and a rightsmart chance of plunder. But they was all so skeer'd that even thatdidn't start one of 'em. The big feller went down and dared 'em andpestered 'em more'n a month—forty days, the Bible says. I don't knowwhat they'd a-done if it hadn't a-be'n that a peart little feller hadcome down to camp one day to fetch some extra rations to his three bigbrothers that their old dad had sent to 'em from home. Kind old paphe was, and sharp, too, for he sent along a big present to the boys'cap'en. Well, jest as little brother drove up, they was all gwine outto fight, and the little feller left his traps with the driver, leggedit after the sogers, and told his big brothers howd'y. Right thar theold big feller come out and dared 'em agin, and they was all so skeer'dthat they jest run like mad. The little feller heerd him, and then wentback into camp and heerd all the sogers talking about him, and whatthe old gineral would give to have him licked. He asked 'em a heap ofquestions about it all, and big brother he got mad at him, and twittedhim about keeping sheep, and give him a right smart of sass. He wasplucky, but you see he had to stan' it, 'cause 'twas big brother. Bigbrothers are mighty mean sometimes.

"But the little feller talked a heap with the other sogers, and theytold the old gineral about him, and he told them to tell the littlefeller to come and see[Pg 260] him. The little feller was mighty plucky, andhe jest up and told the old Gineral Saul that he'd fight the bigfeller! The gineral looked at the handsome little feller—he wasraal handsome—and ses he, kinder softly, I reckon, and shakin' hishead: 'It's too big a job; you're only a chunk of a boy, and he's anold fighter.' The little feller spunked up and told the old gineralthat he'd had one b'ar-fight, and he'd killed the b'ar. He said therewas an old lion and a b'ar got among his dad's sheep, and was gwineoff with a lamb. He broke for 'im, and as soon as he met up with theold b'ar he lamm'd him, till the b'ar turned on him for a hug; but hegot one hand into the long ha'r, under his jaw, and he lamm'd him withthe other till he was dead. He'd killed the lion and the b'ar, and heknow'd he was enough for the old big feller.

"Then the little feller talked raal religious to the old gineral. Yousee he'd got religion afore that, and he know'd that the Lord wouldhelp a feller, if he was all right, and got in a tight place. He toldGineral Saul that the Lord had made him mighty supple, and looked outfor him when the old lion and b'ar tried to get their paws into him;and he knew he'd see him through the fight with the old big feller;for he was jest darin' 'em and pesterin' 'em to make game ofreligion. When the old gineral seed he was so plucky, andreligious too, he know'd them's the kind that fit powerful, and he toldhim to go in, and he made a[Pg 261] little pra'r for him hisself. Then theold gineral put his own soger-close on the little feller, and strappedhis sword on to him. But they was all a heap too big, and he shucked'em off d'rectly, and made for a dry branch down in the bottom. Therehe hunted five little rocks, smooth as a hen-egg, put 'em in a littlebag where he carried his snack when he was a-tendin' the sheep, got hissling fixed all right, and hurried up to meet the old big feller in themedder-lot. When he seed him comin' he was powerful mad they'd sentdown such a little feller, and jawed awful. But the little feller jesttalked back religious, and kept his eye peeled. And I reckon thebig feller couldn't a be'n a lookin'. I've studied a heap on it, andI jest know the big feller couldn't a-be'n a-lookin'; for the littlefeller got out his sling, and drew away, and shied a little rock athim, and he popped him, and down he tumbled. Then the little fellerrushed up and mounted on him, jest as an old hunter loves to get on ab'ar after he's shot him; and he out with the big feller's long swordand off with his head. Then it was them Philistine sinners' turn to beskeer'd, and they broke for the brush; and all them chil'en of Israelfellers jest shouted and chased 'em clean over the mountain into avalley, and then com'd back and got all their camp-plunder.

"My breethrin, that's the best story of a fight I ever read after; andyou can't buy no better story-book than this 'ere Bible."

[Pg 262]

If the facts presented in this chapter make a draft on the credence ofany of my readers that they find it difficult to honor, I respectfullycommend to them the study of the late United States census, especiallyits portrayal of the illiteracy of the late slave States. The figuresare as humiliating as they are startling. They seem at length to beforcing themselves upon the attention of the President, Congress, andthe country. But no figures can ever make any such impression as theactual personal contact I have had with thousands of these people intheir own homes, since the commencement of my labors among them in 1843.

But my account of "Old-Time Illiterate Preachers in the Southwest"would be very incomplete if it did not include some of the notable

NEGRO PREACHERS OF THE OLD RÉGIME.

I used to take great interest in hearing them preach, and availedmyself of every possible opportunity to do so, consistent with myduties. Many of these preachers were very devout and godly men. Theyhad good judgment, strong native sense, and exerted a great influenceover the slaves, which was highly appreciated by their masters. Theyalso gratified in a measure the religious instincts of the slaves, byofficiating at their weddings and funerals.

One of the largest, most orderly, and impressive[Pg 263] funeral processionsthat I have ever witnessed, was that of an old negro preacher atLexington, Kentucky, who had been the pastor of a large colored churchin that city for many years. It was upon a Sabbath afternoon, during ameeting of the Synod of Kentucky, which I was attending. Hundreds ofslaves came in from the surrounding country, and it was estimated thatthere were from two to three thousand in the procession. Nearly everyfamily-carriage in the city and the surrounding country was in theline, occupied by the "family servants." These carriages were sent bythe owners, as their tribute to the old preacher for his great and goodinfluence over their slaves. The most of the men marched some four orsix abreast, with slow and solemn tread, and that silent awe to whichtheir natures are so susceptible in the presence of death.

I knew another negro preacher, and often heard him address his people,for whom I had the profoundest respect. He was a devout and saintlyman, and his dignified port and bearing were those of a born gentleman.He was often engaged the whole week "attending masons." I have oftenmet him as he was driving a horse, sitting upon a wagon-load of mortar,thoroughly bespattered, and received from him a bow so easy, dignified,and graceful, that many a Governor and Congressman that I have knownmight well covet his distinguished bearing.

Upon one occasion I heard him preach a sermon to[Pg 264] his congregation,enforcing the duty of keeping their hearts pure and free from allevil thoughts, when he abruptly broke forth: "But you say, 'I can't,I can't. These bad thoughts come to me, and I can't help it.' I knowyou can't help it," said he, "and I know, too, that you can't help thebirds dying over your heads; but you can help their building nests inyour ha'r" (hair).

The public political, theological, and other discussions, that Ihave already described in this volume, developed a love of religiouscontroversy in the Southwest such as I have never known among any otherpeople.

The negroes were echoes and imitators of the whites in this respectas in others. Morning services were for the white congregations, butslaves usually attended them, often in large numbers. The afternoonswere mostly given up to the colored people, and they were free toattend religious services, whether they were ministered to by whiteor negro preachers. If there was a public discussion, or any specialinterest or excitement upon any subject at the morning service, thatwas almost certain to be the theme of the negro preacher's discourse tohis afternoon audience.

The overwhelming majority of colored church-members were eitherBaptists or Methodists. The differences of these churches in doctrinalbelief were the theme of almost endless controversy between the coloredchampions and defenders of these opposing creeds.

[Pg 265]

Some of these discussions were original and spicy, beyond anything Ihave ever heard of in the line of theological controversy. I will givea few characteristic illustrations.

I had preached in the morning at a small county-seat village, andafter dinner set out, with a venerable and estimable Methodist "localpreacher," to attend his afternoon appointment. After a ride of severalmiles, we reached the brow of a very deep and narrow ravine, which wewere to cross. At the moment of our arrival a venerable, gray-hairedblack man, mounted upon a fine horse, appeared upon the opposite brow.At the first sight of him I turned to my companion and said:

"That must be a brother preacher."

"Oh, yes," said he, "he is a very distinguished preacher. He is thechampion and defender of the Methodist Church among the colored peoplein all this region. He is an old and favorite family servant, and hismaster, who is a graduate of West Point, allows him to use that finehorse in going to his afternoon appointments."

As we passed him, he returned "the bow professional" with a dignity anda Methodistic swing that would have done honor to such old itinerantsas Bishop Asbury and Bishop Soule. Such was my first acquaintance withthe Rev. Nathan Board, whose controversial exploits I am about torelate. As we rode on, my friend informed me that upon one occasion,when Nathan was[Pg 266] present at a Baptist church at a communion, thepreacher, in giving the reason why they did not invite those of otherdenominations who were present to commune with them, said:

"We are not alone and singular in the fact that we do not invite youall to commune with us. Presbyterians fence the tables. Methodistsfence the tables. All other denominations fence the tables. They donot allow anybody and everybody to commune with them. We all fence thetables. The only difference is, that the Baptist fence is a littlehigher than any of the others."

In the afternoon Nathan preached to his people, and as some of them hadbeen present in the morning and heard this address, he had to answer itfor their benefit. After repeating the whole address, he said:

"Now, my bruddren, I'd rather have a low fence and a tight one, than ahigh fence and a good many holes in it."

As these Baptists were of the anti-mission class, who opposed aneducated and paid ministry, Sabbath-schools, Bible societies, and allmission enterprises, but favored good Bourbon, Nathan's reply wasregarded as decidedly personal, and some of them thought he ought to be"whooped" (whipped) for his impudence.

A few weeks after this I reached a county-seat village upon the OhioRiver, and learned that it had recently been the theatre of a veryexciting theological controversy among the slaves.

[Pg 267]

A colored Baptist preacher, of great reputation among his brethrenfor boldness and polemical skill as the champion and defender of hisdenomination, a Calvinist of the stern John Knox order, became greatlyexcited on account of what he esteemed the heretical doctrines and badinfluence of Methodism. After mature deliberation, he determined thathe would wage against it a war of extermination in the community.

Having formed this resolution, for successive Sabbaths he labored inthe work, and discharged his batteries with most telling effect. Hisvictory was a signal one. Arminianism was overwhelmed—the Methodistswere completely routed. They had no preacher that they dared to putup to answer their opponent, and they could only manfully acknowledgethat they were beaten for the present, and adjourn their defense tosome future day. I was only able to learn the manner in which hediscussed the antagonistic Arminian and Calvinistic doctrines of"falling from grace," and the "perseverance of the saints." But, ifthat was a specimen of the entire discussion, any one at all acquaintedwith slave preaching, with the frequent use made by these preachersof illustrations and comparisons, and the great effectsproduced by them upon the minds of the slaves, can well understand howthis preacher had such power over his audience. It was as follows:

"De Methodiss, my bruddren, is like de grasshopper—hoppin', all detime hoppin'—hop into heaven,[Pg 268] hop out, hop into heaven, hop out.But, my bruddren, de Baptiss, when he get to heaven, he's dar!De Baptiss is like de 'possum. Hunter get after him, he climb detree; he shake de limb, one foot gone; he shake de limb, anudder footgone; he shake de limb, ebbery foot gone; but tink you, my bruddren,'possum fall? You know, my bruddren—you cotch too many—youknow 'possum hang on by de tail, and de berry debbil can't shakehim off!"

The head Methodists, after many conferences, concluded that they wouldmake one desperate effort to save their cause. After discussing themerits of all their preachers far and near, they decided to send forthe Rev. Nathan Board, the veteran war-horse in theological polemicsI have already introduced to my readers. This venerable preacher ofthe olden time was a genuine African, and entered his professionbefore it was fashionable for those of his class to learn to read;but he had a strong memory, which made up somewhat for this "defect"in his education, and, if he could not remember the very thing thathe wished to repeat, he could always remember something; and,therefore, he was never at a loss for a quotation from Scripture, or anillustration.

The appointed Sabbath arrived, and Nathan was on the ground. Theintense excitement among the blacks had aroused the curiosity of thewhites, and there was a general turnout of white and black to[Pg 269] hearNathan's defense. His brethren had in private gone over all the strongpoints that had been made by their opponent, had given him a graphicand glowing picture of the utterly prostrate condition of theircause, and with the eloquence of the deepest feeling had endeavoredto impress him with the magnitude of the interests involved in hissuccess or failure. Nathan was greatly excited, but he was confident ofhis ability to meet the emergency. He had not read books, but in theprevious fifty years he had witnessed many a fierce and bitter contestbetween successive Governors, Congressmen, and others, in their hotrace for office, and his polemical tastes had made him a close observerof the various methods of meeting and overwhelming an opponent. That myreaders may understand what follows, I must premise that the AmericanBible Union, under the presidency of the Rev. Spencer H. Cone, D.D.,was at the time very earnestly engaged in the revision of the Bible;that the Baptist churches in the Southwest very generally coöperatedin this work; that pastors of churches and agents of the society wereurging its necessity, and soliciting collections in its aid; and thatthe other denominations were very generally defending King James'stranslation, and opposing the new version. Hence the question was thesubject of almost universal discussion by the white clergymen; and, asI have already said, the colored preachers were but their echoes—theyall felt[Pg 270] called upon to enlighten their congregations upon this, asupon all other questions.

Having gone through the preliminary services, Nathan arose andcommenced his sermon as follows:

"My bruddren, I has been sent for to come here and preach, and, when Igets t'rough, you'll t'ink I has preached. You'll find my text,if my memory sarve me, in de book of de Revolution: 'For de great dayof his raff is come, and who do you t'ink is gwine to stand?'"

Nathan was too full to spend any time in introduction. He broke out atonce, in the most emphatic manner: "And do you t'ink, my bruddren, deBaptiss will den be able to stand?" Shutting his eyes and shaking hishead most dubiously, with his peculiar guttural "Umph! ah! my Lord! andyou'll see 'em paddling den. All de water in de Ohio River won't save'em den; dey'll call for de rocks and de mountains to fall on 'em indat great day of his raff, and I'll tell you, my bruddren, dat ahot rock will be a mighty tight place for a Baptiss."

Having thus given vent to his feelings, in imitation of Cicero'simmortal philippic against Catiline, he proceeded with moredeliberation and at great length to review the entire ground that hadbeen traveled over by his theological assailant.

The grasshopper, the 'possum, and all the other strong points weretaken up and disposed of to the entire satisfaction of his brethren.The stunning blows[Pg 271] that he had dealt in his opening passage werefollowed by others, scarcely less telling, all the way through to theperoration. Already he saw in the faces of his audience undoubtedevidence of the success of his efforts, and he was flushed withvictory. His tone became triumphant, if not overbearing. His bitternessand severity would surely have been entirely inexcusable, but forthe excitement he was under from the terrible provocation. That"grasshopper" comparison was the most damaging assault upon Methodism,the most crushing blow to Arminianism, that he had ever been calledupon to repel, in all the long years of his ministry. That of itselfwas enough to fire all the blood of this old theological war-horse.And then to follow that with the "'possum"—that was the crowningindignity—that was a Calvinistic blow administered to an alreadycrushed and fallen foe, which Nathan's Arminian blood was fired topunish to the very utmost extent of his power. In Nathan's intenseadmiration for his Master he had, with the extraordinary imitativepowers of his race, taken on, in addition to the clerical, a verydecided military bearing. In his composite character, he representedthe dignity of the bishop and the boldness and dash of the successfulgeneral. He was, therefore, a very striking representative of the"church militant," and he put into the remainder of his defense theconcentrated polemical power of the two professions. He proceeded:

[Pg 272]

"De Baptiss, my bruddren, is in such a gone case, dey is in such amighty tight fix, dat de ole Bible—de Bible dat all de faders andmudders have gone to heaven wid—de Bible dat dey used to love such aheap—de ole Bible dat fill us wid de hebbenly fire all de way alongde road to Canaan—dat ole Bible, my bruddren, is no account any moreto de Baptiss, and dey say dat the Baptiss is a gwine to get up a newdeversion. In de ole Bible it reads, if my memory sarve me, 'In dosedays came John de Baptiss.' Dey say in de new deversion its gwine toread, 'In dose days came John de Immerser'—'tain't dar, mybruddren. In de ole Bible it reads, if my memory sarve me, 'He shallbaptize you wid de Holy Ghost and wid de fire.' Dey say dat in de newdeversion it's gwine to read, 'He shall immerse you wid de HolyGhost and wid de fire'—tain't dar, my bruddren! Immersin' widfire, my bruddren!—immersin' wid fire! Who ever read in de Bible 'boutimmersin' wid fire, only dem chil'en of de three Hebrewsers?Dey was immersed wid fire—dem three Hebrewsers dat was put into defurnace, heated seven times hot by de dedict of Nebuckefalus—what youcall 'em now" (scratching his head)—"Shamrack, Shimshack, and Bedgone.Dey ar all dat we read in de Bible 'bout bein' immersed wid fire."

This was the finishing blow. Nathan sat down. The excitement and joy ofhis brethren were unbounded. They shouted, danced, shook hands, hugged,and[Pg 273] yielded themselves up to that perfect luxury of excited, joyousfeeling of which they alone seem capable.

My esteemed friend the late Rev. W.W. Hill, D.D., to whom my readersare indebted for the story of the candidate and his Greek quotations,gave me the following facts, illustrating the argumentative power of anold-time slave preacher:

At the commencement of the Doctor's ministry he was for several yearsthe pastor of a church that had been founded in the early history ofthe State, and ministered to for a lifetime by a distinguished Scotchminister. He had indoctrinated the entire community, and built up avery strong Presbyterian church. Dr. Hill, who was a native of theState, and greatly interested in the colored people, was very ofteninvited to preach to a colored Baptist church in the afternoon, whichhe always did with the greatest pleasure. It is perhaps not known toall my readers that the slaves always assumed and stoutly maintainedamong themselves the relative social rank and position of theirmasters. If the master was a President, Governor, Member of Congress,Judge, or a man of large wealth, all his slaves participated in hishonors, and often bore them more conspicuously and proudly than he did.

It so happened that in Dr. Hill's congregation the families of highestsocial position were Presbyterians. Some of the slaves, quite naturallyfor them, got the[Pg 274] impression that the Presbyterian Church was "de'ristoratic church," and thought it would be a nice thing if they couldhave a Presbyterian church for the colored people. But they were allthoroughly indoctrinated in the Baptist creed—and there was the rub."Christ went down into the water, and came up out of thewater." That, in their minds, was the hard thing to be overcome. Butthe desire to attain social elevation through church relations hasoften caused other than colored people to make extraordinary struggles,and they were willing to put forth the effort. After many conferencesupon the subject among themselves, they concluded to invite Dr. Hillto preach on the subject of baptism, and explain and defend thePresbyterian views. They accordingly called on him, and presented theirrequest, which surprised him very much. He said to them:

"I have preached for you, whenever you have invited me, for severalyears, and you all know that I have never said one word upon thesubject of baptism. I do not like to do it now. The people will notunderstand it, and will think I am trying to proselyte you."

But they told him that they had been appointed a committee to invitehim to preach on the subject, and that it would be understood by allthat he preached on baptism at their request. Upon this statementhe accepted the invitation and afterward[Pg 275] preached for them asrequested. But his effort was a decided failure; he did not "move dedifficulties." "Christ went down into the water, and came upout of the water." That was still the great stumbling-block inthe way of the organization of a Presbyterian church for the coloredpeople. Some weeks afterward Judge Green, of Danville, Kentucky, droveover in his family carriage to make a visit and spend a Sabbath withsome of his friends in this congregation.

It soon became noised abroad among the slaves that the driverof this distinguished jurist was not only, like his master, aPresbyterian, but he was a noted Presbyterian preacher.[4]

The committee who had invited Dr. Hill to make the effort that provedso unsuccessful, at once waited upon their distinguished visitor, andinvited him to preach to them upon the subject of baptism. He was fromDanville, the seat of a Presbyterian college, the Jerusalem of thePresbyterian Church in Kentucky. Hence the honor of that Church amongthe colored people of that State was largely in his keeping, and heappreciated his responsibilities. He accepted the invitation promptly,and, like the Rev. Nathan Board,[Pg 276] he was confident and eager to standforth as the champion of his church. He was greeted with a largecongregation, and his effort was a decided success.

Some days after, Dr. Hill met some of the committee, and said to them:

"I understand that this colored Presbyterian minister from Danvillepreached on baptism last Sunday, and that he has made the whole matterentirely clear and satisfactory to you all."

They assured him that that was true.

"Now," said the Doctor, "that seems very strange to me. You all professto like my preaching, and are generally full of compliments and thanksfor my sermons. I have done my very best for you on this subject ofbaptism. I have told you all I know—all I have learned from Hebrew andGreek—and it did not do one bit of good. And now this colored ministerfrom Danville preaches to you, and beats me entirely. He makes thewhole subject plain and satisfactory to you. Can you tell me what hesaid?"

"Oh, yes, yes, yes!" they responded. "His tex' was, 'My sheep hearsmy voice, and I knows them, and dey follows me.' Den he said, 'In deBible de Christians is de sheep.' He had a heap of Bible on dat p'int,and he preached a mighty long time and make dat so strong, no nigg*rcan't 'spute it. And den he said, mighty strong, 'Now, my bruddren andsisters, you all knows you can't get a sheep into de water[Pg 277] nohow,'less you cotch him and carries him in.' And, preacher, you knows datis so yourself."

I give these truthful sketches of old-time slave preachers andpreaching in the hope that others may follow my example, and preserveas many as possible of these illustrations of a state of things nowrapidly passing away, through the labors of an educated ministry.

"ORTONVILLE"; OR, THE UNIVERSAL POWER OF SACRED SONG.

I have a distinct recollection of the circ*mstances of my firstacquaintance with "Ortonville," a piece of sacred music by the lateProfessor Thomas Hastings. It was more than forty years ago. The churchchoir in my native place, a small country village in western NewYork, had gone down to that sad pass, that for several Sabbaths thealternative was either to have no singing at all, or a maiden lady, aveteran member of the choir, must "pitch the tune." This, even in theestimation of the most staid and least nervous of the congregation, wasquite too bad; and the matter was taken up and talked over in earnestat the village store, where all matters public and private pertainingto the neighborhood and town were discussed, and public sentiment onall questions was regulated, like the price of stocks at a board ofbrokers. The result of this discussion was, that a subscription-paperwas started, and a[Pg 279] singing-master employed for one evening each weekduring the winter, who, according to immemorial custom, was paid threedollars an evening for his services, and the school was free to all whowere disposed to attend.

A country singing-school—who, that has ever attended one, is notcarried back to some of the most delightful scenes of his earlieryears by the mere mention of the name? What visions of early playmatesand schoolmates, of bright moonlight rides, with the merry chimes ofbells and shouts of joyous hearts, as group after group from differentfamilies was gathered for the school, and crowded into the capacioussleigh—mothers' warm, home-made mittens, stockings, and flannels,and all the buffalo-robes in the neighborhood, bidding defianceto an atmosphere at zero! And then the frank, unstudied greetingsand companionship at the village church; the lighting of candlesthat each one had brought from home (no lamps or sextons in thosedays); the first essays, of each pupil alone, at the ascending anddescending scale, with this one's failure and that one's success; thecoquettings and rivalries of the "intermission," and the successfuland unsuccessful offers of the youthful beaux to "go home with thegirls" at the close of the school—these and a thousand other pleasantmemories come thronging upon the mind at the remembrance of a countrysinging-school!

We had spent several evenings upon the rudiments, singing from theblackboard; the teacher had decided[Pg 280] that the old books would not do(what singing-school teacher since that day, in view of his commissionson the new book, has failed to reach the same conclusion?); and we hadobtained the "Manhattan Collection," which was just then a candidatefor public favor. Several of the old members of the choir were standingin a group, during an "intermission," expressing their opinions on themerits of the new book, when Deacon Arnold said to the teacher:

"Here is a new tune I should like to have you look at—'Ortonville.' Ihave hummed it over, and it seems a very good one."

The teacher glanced over it, said they would try it, and very soon theschool were singing—

"Majestic sweetness sits enthroned,"

as those words have been sung a thousand times to the sweet and simplenotes of—

[Pg 281]

Such was my first acquaintance with this piece of sacred music. Littledid I then think that it was an acquaintance I was to meet in suchdifferent and distant parts of the world, in so many and such variedcirc*mstances, and that was to afford me such peculiar pleasure.

I need hardly say that "Ortonville" became at once a favorite withour school. The new scholars were most apt to strike upon it, if theyhappened to be in a mood for singing, as they were busy at theirwinter's tasks—foddering the cattle and other stock at the barn,watering the horses, carrying in the wood for the evening and morningfires in the ample old-fashioned fireplaces, or doing any little choresabout the house.

The teacher was pretty sure to select it if the minister or influentialmembers of the congregation came in to see how the school was gettingalong; as, somehow, they always seemed to be in better time and tune,and do more for the credit of the school, and the satisfaction of thosewho had raised the subscription, when they sang this, than in singingany other tune. Very soon it was sung everywhere, and those who couldsing at all had learned it by rote, at least, as a necessity. The choirwere not only better satisfied with themselves, but the minister seemedto preach with more animation, when "Ortonville" was sung upon theSabbath, and prayer-meetings that were dull[Pg 282] and uninteresting wouldtake a new start when "Ortonville" was started. For not only all thenew singers could sing, but all the old men and women who had beenmembers of the choir when the country was first settled, and the hardyPuritan pioneers, in the absence of a minister, had what were called"deacon-meetings," the school-master, or whoever was regarded as thebest reader in the settlement, reading a sermon.

It was not long before it was found out that we were not alone in ouradmiration of the new favorite. In the adjoining towns, wherever thesinging-schools were using the "Manhattan Collection," they had fallenupon this tune and were singing it just as we were.

Before our singing-school closed I left home to pursue my academic,collegiate, and theological studies, and for a few years following,in connection with my residence at different places, and my travelsin different Northern States, I again and again had opportunities ofobserving that in cities as well as in the country, in centers ofintelligence and refinement as well as at my rural home, there wassomething in "Ortonville" calculated to interest nearly every classof mind, and make it, as soon as it was known in any place, a popularfavorite.

With these elements, and our national habit of never sparing ourfavorites, but pressing them into service for the time, adnauseam, those who heard it once in any place were sure to hear it,to say the least, until they[Pg 283] "had heard enough of it," and then it wasconsigned to comparative neglect.

For a long time I had heard it but rarely; the feeling of dislike atit* frequent repetition had worn off, and it again possessed not onlyits original interest, but was thick clustering with pleasant memoriesof home, and many of the happiest scenes of my life. I was at lengthin the interior of a distant Southern State, an invalid, alone, anddoubtful of the future. Sabbath came, and with kind, new-found friends,I rode through the pines over a sandy road to a plain, unpaintedchurch, standing in the midst of a piny wood, and bearing the name"Mount Zion." In the rear of this building, comfortably seated andsheltered, a large congregation of slaves was assembled, who werelistening to the instructions of an earnest and faithful minister ofthe gospel. He had just finished reading a hymn as I reached the place,and an old negro slave rose to lead the singing. The lines were givenout one by one, and as every voice in that large company seemed to joinin the song, never did "Ortonville" sound more sweetly than as it thenbroke unexpectedly upon my ear. With their rich, melodious voices, andthe enthusiasm peculiar to the African, they seemed to pour out alltheir souls, and, as they sang through the hymn, and those familiarsounds resounded through the grove, the effect upon my feelings can bemore easily imagined than described.

[Pg 284]

During my stay in this neighborhood, a slave died upon one of theplantations, and I was told that I would have an opportunity ofwitnessing one of their favorite funerals. In those portions of theSouth where the plantations were largest, and the slaves the mostnumerous, they were very fond of burying their dead at night, and asnear midnight as possible. In case of a funeral, they assembled inlarge numbers from adjoining plantations, provided with pine-knots,and pieces of fat pine called light-wood, which when ignited made ablaze compared with which our city torchlight processions are mostsorry affairs. When all was in readiness, they lighted these torches,formed into a procession, and marched slowly to the distant grave,singing the most solemn music. Sometimes they sang hymns they hadcommitted to memory, but oftener those more tender and plaintive,composed by themselves, that have since been introduced to the peopleof the North, and of Europe, as plantation melodies. I have never yetseen any statement of the manner in which these melodies, that havemoved and melted the hearts of millions on both sides of the Atlantic,were composed. I have been familiar with the secret of their birth andpower since my first acquaintance with, and religious labors among, theslaves in 1843. It is preëminently true of these plantation melodiesthat they were "born, not made." I have been present at the birth of agreat many of them—many that[Pg 285] I think more tender and pathetic thanthose that have been given to the world by the various jubilee-singers.

An old-time midnight slave funeral.

In their religious gatherings the best singer among them was alwaysthe leader of the meeting. They usually commenced their services bysinging some hymn that they had committed to memory; but the leaderalways gave out this hymn, one line at a time, in a sing-song tone,much like a chant, and then the audience sang the line he had givenout, and so went through the hymn. As the meeting progressed, and theirfeelings became deeper and deeper, and the excitement rose higher andhigher, they at length reached a state of tender or rapturous feelingto which no hymn with which they were familiar gave expression. Atthis point the leader sang from his heart, or, as musicians say,improvised, both the words and music of a single line. The audiencethen sang that line with him, as they had sung all the preceding hymns.He then improvised another line, and another, and they sang each oneafter him, until he had improvised one of those plantation melodies,which, as they gave expression to the glowing hearts of those who firstsang them, so, when they have been repeated, they have touched theuniversal heart. When thus "born," no such words or music were everforgotten by the leader. It was sung over and over again at succeedingmeetings, until some other melody was in like manner improvised, tomeet another and perhaps[Pg 286] a higher state of religious enthusiasm. In myvisits to hundreds of different plantations and congregations, I haveheard a great variety of these plantation melodies. Many of them, thatwere inexpressibly tender and beautiful, were never heard beyond theimmediate neighborhood in which they were first sung, and will never bereproduced, unless it be among the songs of the redeemed in heaven.

But to return to this midnight funeral. The appearance of such aprocession, winding through the fields and woods, as revealed by theirflaming torches, marching slowly to the sound of their wild music, wasweird and imposing in the highest degree. This procession was to passimmediately by our door, but, in order to get a fuller view, a smallcompany of us went out a short distance to meet them. We saw them andheard their music in the distance, as they came down a gentle descent,crossed over a small stream, and then marched on some time in silence.As they came near where we stood, we heard their leader announce in thesing-song, chanting style I have already described, the words—

"When I can read my title clear;"

and that long procession, with their flaming fat-pine torches, marchedby us with slow and solemn tread, singing that beautiful hymn to thetune of "Ortonville." We followed to the place of burial, listened[Pg 287]to their songs and addresses at the grave, and witnessed all theceremonies to the close. From first to last the scene was impressivebeyond description.

A few days after this, as I was taking a lonely horseback-ride to anadjoining parish, I heard the negroes singing in a field that I couldnot see, lying behind a wood that skirted the road. I stopped my horsefor a moment to listen to their music. I could hear no words, but atonce distinguished "Ortonville." Soon after I inquired of my hosthow long these people had been singing this tune, and where they hadlearned it; and was told that the minister I had seen upon the Sabbath,while on a visit to his relatives in the State of Georgia the fallbefore, had heard it sung at the meeting of the Synod, and was so muchpleased with it that he procured a copy, and in that manner it hadbeen introduced to this place and the places adjacent. At one of thoseplaces I was told that they were so much pleased with it that they hadsung it over and over one Sabbath-day during the entire intermission.

Time passed on, and in my invalid wanderings I was within the tropics,sailing in the track of Columbus, along the north shore of Hayti.Entering those waters, so often tinged with human blood, that dividethis island from the famed Tortugas, as if in harmony with the darkmemories that crowded upon the mind, black clouds began to darken theheavens, the thunders[Pg 288] rolled, the lightnings gleamed with terrificfury, and amid the most sublime tumult of the elements we were carriedalong until our little craft dropped anchor in the bay of Port dePaix. The storm and darkness were such that I could not go ashore, andI was that night rocked to sleep on waters where many a pirate-ship,with bloody deck, had ridden securely at anchor, and prepared to setforth again on new missions of pillage and death. This harbor was thechief rendez-vous, the refuge from danger, and retreat from toil, ofthe buccaneers that for years infested these seas, and whose piraticalplunderings for so long a time made their names a terror to all withintheir reach. However, not being particularly superstitious, I sleptsoundly for the night.

In the morning I left our little vessel and received—what is ever sograteful to a wanderer on a foreign shore, and especially to one whohas any sympathy with the command, "Go teach all nations"—a welcome tothe residence of a countryman, to a missionary's humble home. Ay, noblemen and women are they, who, forgetful of themselves, and alone for thehonor of the Master that they serve, leaving the comforts and amenitiesof a Christian civilization, toil on through life amid manifolddiscouragements, endeavoring to instruct and elevate the degraded, and,above all else, anxious to

"Allure to brighter worlds and lead the way."

[Pg 289]

And yet, like those whose own minds are so degraded and debauchedthat they can not conceive of purity and virtue in any character,there are those who are so utterly ignorant and unconscious of thelofty sentiments that animate these self-sacrificing missionaries,that they are ever finding, in base, unworthy, and ignoble objects,the grand motive of their life-work. Such may well ponder the life ofunparalleled Christian heroism of the great Apostle to the Gentiles,of which the undoubted and sufficient motive was a constrainingLOVE!

Evening darkened around the dwelling of the missionary, and a littlegroup of natives assembled for religious worship. I sat in that littleroom and listened to the words of instruction, praise, and prayer,with indescribably strange emotions, for all was in a language that Idid not understand. As the services proceeded, a hymn was read by themissionary with peculiar interest and emotion, and the dark group sangin the familiar strains of "Ortonville":

"Beni soit bien qui chaque jour
Nous comble de ses biens,
Et dont s'inconvenable amour
A romptu nos liens."

What a change—what a change! The haunts of bloody pirates giving placeto the home of the missionary of the cross; the wild, agonized shrieksof their[Pg 290] murdered victims succeeded by the sweet and peaceful notesof "Ortonville!" And so this tune has often been sung where sounds ofdirest woe and wretchedness had long been heard, and so it doubtlesswill be, and onward to the millennium.

As I once returned from a small church on the banks of the SavannahRiver, where it had been sung, the friend whose hospitality I wasenjoying remarked:

"My brother-in-law, a missionary, told me he first heard that tune, andsince had often sung it, on Mount Zion, in Jerusalem, and it soundedmost sweetly there."

And thus it has been sung in many a land and clime by that heroicmissionary band which now encircles the globe with celestial light.

But this narrative would swell to a volume were I to relate indetail all the sweet, sacred, and delightful memories associatedwith "Ortonville." In all my long invalid wanderings, and in allthe years in which I have been permitted to labor actively in theMaster's service, both "in the Brush" and elsewhere, it has often beenmy happy lot to recognize and greet in the most varied and strikingcirc*mstances the favorite I first learned to love in that countrysinging-school. Its gentle, soothing notes have broken sweetly upon myear in crowded city churches; in quiet meetings for prayer; in large,unpainted, barn-like edifices erected for Christian sanctuaries; inrude log churches crowded with devout worshipers; in basket-meetings,camp-meetings, and in all[Pg 291] varieties of gatherings for the worship ofAlmighty God. Often, very often, it has inspired my devotions as Ihave mingled, for the first time, with households gathered for familyworship. With adoring recognition of the Fatherhood of God, and withloving recognition of the brotherhood of man, it has been my happy,happy lot thus to worship with uncounted hundreds of families—amongthem the most cultivated and refined, and the most ignorant, neglected,and lowly of God's poor. In very long horseback-journeys, for days,weeks, and months together, as I have ridden over bleak, desolate"barrens," through dense, dark forests, along deep, narrow ravines andvalleys, and up and over rough and rugged mountains, nearly every nighthas found me under a different roof, enjoying the rough or refinedhospitality of a new-found family. As they have invited me to "take thebooks" (the Bible and hymn-book) and lead the devotions of the family,often in the most remote and lowly cabins, I have been surprisedand delighted, as I was in the tropics, with the familiar notes of"Ortonville."

As I write these lines my memory is far more busy than my pen. I thinkof my wanderings in many different States, and of the cabins in whichI have briefly rehearsed the old, old story, and by kind words ofentreaty, and in reverent words of prayer, attempted to "allure tobrighter worlds, and lead the way." I have knelt in prayer in many ahome along the banks of the[Pg 292] Rappahannock, the James, the Cape Fear,the Santee, the Savannah, the Tennessee, the Cumberland, the Ohio, theMississippi, the Missouri, the San Joaquin, the Sacramento, and manyother rivers. So I have knelt and prayed in homes along the shores ofthe stormy Atlantic and the peaceful Pacific. Very often the inmates,at first startled, and then delighted, by the strangeness of myvisit, have told me that my voice was the first ever lifted in prayerbeneath their roofs. Though in multitudes of such homes no member ofthe family had ever learned a single letter of the alphabet of theirmother-tongue, and all were barefooted, and more destitute and ignorantthan the most of my readers will be able to conceive, they havereceived me in their homes with a hospitality so hearty and cordial,and have thanked me, and bidden me come again, with such warm words andsuch abounding tears, that my own have welled and flowed responsive totheirs; and as I have spoken my farewell words, so often final, andridden away with new impressions of the power of the Saviour's name andlove to touch and melt the rudest minds, my happy heart has found fullexpression in the tender notes and sweet words of my favorite tune andhymn:

WORK ACCOMPLISHED IN THE SOUTHWEST.

I do not propose to give anything like a full account or even a summaryof the work accomplished in my special mission by all these long ridesand years of earnest and cheerful labor in the Brush. That has not beenmy object. It has been rather to describe the manner of performingthese labors, the incidents connected with them, and to portray thecharacter, manners, customs, and peculiarities of the people whor*ceived me so cordially, and with whom I mingled so freely in theirrude homes. But I should fail to give a full and true idea of theirsocial and moral condition, especially as indicated by their want ofeducation, and their destitution of Bibles, if I did not give some ofthe results of these labors. I have described the manner in which Iexplored different counties, organized or reorganized Bible societies,and secured the appointment of distributors to canvass them.

One of these men, Mr. Guier, a well-known citizen[Pg 295] of the county,visited five hundred and fifty-eight families, of whom one hundredand sixty—more than one fourth—were destitute of the Bible. Theycontained four hundred and thirty-five persons. In sixty-four ofthem either the husband or wife, or both (according to their ownstatements), were members of some Protestant church. Sixty-two Biblesand ninety Testaments were sold, amounting to one hundred and fourteendollars and eighty-five cents; and thirty-three Bibles and sixTestaments were given away, amounting to ten dollars and forty cents.Mr. Guier communicated to me the following facts in connection with hislabors:

"I visited a man at his house, and asked him if he had a Bible. He saidno. I told him he ought to have one. He said he was not able to buy. Itold him that I could sell so cheap that any man could buy. He said hehad not paid for his land yet, and he had no time to read. I then tookup my saddle-bags to go, and offered him a Bible as a gift. He said:'Stop, sir; I will pay you for it. I would not have my neighbor to knowthat you gave me a Bible.'

"I found a poor widow at work in her garden, who told me she had noBible, and no money to buy one with. She was a church-member, and veryanxious to have a Bible, but she was not willing to receive one as agift. She said she had a kind neighbor,[Pg 296] who would always lend hermoney when he had it; but her little son was some distance from home,at a blacksmith-shop, and she could not send for the money. As she wasso anxious to get a Bible, I found her son, and went with him to seethe neighbor, who loaned her one dollar and twenty-five cents to getthe Bible she wanted. May God bless it to her!

"I was one day taken so sick that I had to stop by the side of the roada half-hour or more. I then rode on to a cabin, and told the lady I wasvery unwell, and asked if she could let me have a bed to lie upon. Sheseemed alarmed, and said she would have no objection if her husbandwas at home. I told her I was very ill and could not ride, and thatI was distributing Bibles. She at once told me to get down and comein, and she nursed me with the greatest care and attention until herhusband came. On his arrival I explained to him why I was there; andhe said they would take the best care of me they could, which they diduntil the next morning. They told me they had no Bible and no money. Ioffered to pay them for keeping me, but they would receive no pay. Ithen gave them a Bible, which they received very thankfully. The ladywas a church-member, and I have heard that her husband has since beenconverted and united with the church.

"I asked a man in a field if he had a Bible. He said he did not know,but his wife could tell. I went[Pg 297] to the house, and she told me theyhad no Bible, but she was very anxious to get one. Her husband camein, and I told him his wife had no Bible, and he ought to get her one.He said he would like to have a Bible, as the leaves would make goodwadding for his gun; and made a good many other remarks of the samenature in regard to the Bible. His wife sat and wept all the time, and,as I thought it useless to talk with him longer, I prepared to leave,and she handed me the Bible she had been looking at. I told her to keepit. She said she could not—she had no money. I told her that made nodifference; the Bible Society would give it to her. She was greatlyrejoiced at receiving the unexpected gift.

"I found an old sailor who was plowing for a neighbor to get corn forhis family, who told me he had no Bible. He had been a member of thechurch about two years, and seemed to be very religious. He was veryglad to see my Bibles, but said he could not buy one. He had no money,lived on rented land, and could with difficulty support his family. Itold him that, if he was too poor to buy, he was not too poor to read,and that the Bible Society enabled me to give him a Bible. He receivedit with astonishment and joy, and praised God aloud that he had livedto see the day when the poor were supplied with the Bible without moneyand without price. I left him in the field, shouting aloud his[Pg 298] praisesto God that he now had the blessed Bible to read.

"I saw a man about sixty years old, who had raised a large family andwas now living with his third wife, standing by his field and lookingat a lot of fine colts. I asked him if he had a Bible. He said, No; hehad no use for a Bible. I then asked him if he had ever had a Bible inhis family. He said, No; he had no use for a Bible. After doing my bestto sell him a Bible, I told him the Bible Society made it my duty tooffer him one as a gift. But he refused to receive it. I was told byone of his neighbors that he did not think he had been at church foryears.

"The country I have visited is exceedingly rough and broken. It hasbeen very hard work to climb all the hills and knobs, and hunt up allthe people scattered over them, and up and down the valleys. But I haveendeavored to explore it faithfully, and leave no family unvisited,and without the offer of a Bible. I have been in a good many familiesand neighborhoods that had never before been visited by a Bibledistributor. I was born in this county, and when solicited to undertakethis work I thought it was entirely unnecessary. I had no idea thattwenty families could be found in the county without a Bible. And now,before the work is half completed, the exploration reveals such factsas these."

[Pg 299]

In the thorough exploration and supply of another county, FatherJ.G. Kasey, the venerable Bible distributor, visited six hundred andfifty-five families, of whom one hundred and twenty-seven—nearly onefifth—were destitute of the Bible. Eight of the families supplied wereentirely without education; and six families refused to receive theBible as a gift. He sold in the county one hundred and forty-one Biblesand Testaments, amounting to sixty-three dollars and ninety-one cents;and gave away eighty-one Bibles and Testaments, amounting to twentydollars and seventy-five cents. Father Kasey's labors were eminentlyof a missionary character. He sat down with the people at theirfire-sides, exhorted Christians to greater fidelity and zeal in theirMaster's service, kindly warned and urged sinners to flee to Christ forsalvation, and then, bowing with them in prayer, humbly and earnestlybesought God's blessing upon them. What enterprise is more Christian,or what work more blessed, than the distribution of the Word of God,accompanied with such labors? He said:

"I have cause to rejoice for the success I have met with in supplyingthe people with the Holy Bible, and imparting religious instruction. Ihave been able to have religious conversation and prayer with almostevery family I have visited, and from all I could learn I was inducedto believe that it made a good impression on the most of them. Ifound a comfortable[Pg 300] home one night with a kind old brother, of theEpiscopal Church. After supper we sat in the parlor, and he went onto speak of his efforts to train up his children in the fear of theLord; but none of them were yet Christians. He had become discouraged,and seemed almost to give them up. I advised him to continue hisprayer and efforts, believing that God would bring them in—if notin his day, when he was gone. Some of his children were present, andmy conversation and prayer seemed to make a good impression upon thefamily. Some time afterward several of his children were converted andunited with the church.

"In my travels I called at a house where they had no Bible orTestament, but gladly received one as a gift. After conversation andprayer, I exhorted the woman to seek the Lord. She wept very bitterlyas I addressed her, and said she intended to do so. She was as deeplyaffected as any person I ever saw, and as I bade her good-by she heldme by the hand several minutes, refusing to let me go. She said she hadnot been in the habit of attending church, but she would do so fromthat time. I pointed her to the Lamb of God, and she promised to seekreligion with all her heart. She said I must attend a meeting that hadbeen appointed to be held in the neighborhood. I did so, and found herhappy in the love of God, and she has since united with the Church ofChrist. I afterward saw her husband, who was a very wicked[Pg 301] man. Heseemed deeply affected, and promised to seek religion; and I trust he,too, may be converted.

"I called upon another family, where the man had previously had aBible, but had burned it. Afterward he became convicted, and wasanxious for another. I sold him a Bible, exhorted him to become aChristian, and trust he will be a better man.

"I found another man who had lived to a good old age, and had twentychildren now living, three having gone to the eternal world. The familywas destitute of any portion of the Bible. I gave him the Word of God,exhorted him to seek the Lord, prayed with him, hoping that the goodLord would save him and his large family, as they were all irreligious.He received my visit thankfully.

"I rode up to a very poor cabin, in a hollow, and found a woman plowingwith one horse. Several little children, very ragged, were playing nearher. I asked her if she had a Bible. She said she had not—she was verypoor; her husband was dead, and she had several children, none of whomwere large enough to help her, and she was trying to raise somethingfor them to eat. I asked her if she did not want a Bible. She said,'Oh, yes, very much, but I am too poor to buy one.' I told her it wasmy business to seek out the poor and the destitute, and supply themwith the Bible. I then gave her one, which she received with a greatdeal of thankfulness. I told her the Lord had[Pg 302] promised to be a God tothe widow and the fatherless, and exhorted her to put her trust in him.As I rode away, she followed me with her thanks, and her prayers thatthe Lord would bless me.

"There were many other interesting circ*mstances, that made a lastingimpression upon my mind. The good accomplished by the Lord, through hishumble servant, by this distribution of the Word of God, will not beknown in this world. My heart is in this work, for I know I am engagedin a good work."

I gave her a Bible, and as I rode away she followed mewith her thanks and her prayers.

Mr. Lutes was commissioned to undertake the re-exploration and supplyof a county where I had reorganized a society that had been inactivefor many years. During the first three months of his labor he visitedsix hundred and thirty-three families, of whom one hundred andtwenty-eight—more than one fifth—were destitute of the Bible. He soldtwo hundred and twenty-eight Bibles and Testaments, amounting to onehundred and seventeen dollars and six cents, and gave away forty-five,amounting to ten dollars and forty-nine cents. In speaking of his greatamazement at finding so many families destitute of the Bible, he said:

"Experience has taught me that a poor and very incorrect estimatewill be made in regard to this matter while we remain at home—whilewe look upon our Bibles and say: 'How cheap such books are! Surelyeverybody must have them.' I have found, to my[Pg 303] great surprise,fifteen families in which either the husband or wife, or both, weremembers of some Protestant church, and had no Bible. I visited threedestitute families in succession: the first, a poor widow; the second,husband and wife, both members of the church; the third wantedspiritual-rapping books, but was finally persuaded to buy aBible. I gave a poor man a Bible, and next Sabbath he and his wife wereboth at church, a very uncommon sight. I visited a school-teacher, aliberally educated Irishman, but very poor. He said he had neitherBible nor Testament, and that he should like a large Testament inhis family. He cheerfully paid me for one. I visited a poor widow, achurch-member, who had been a housekeeper many years, had childrenmarried and removed to a distant State; but she had no Bible. Poorcreature! I gave her one, and she wished me to fill out the familyrecord for her; but she had neglected the matter so long that she hadlost all trace of the date of births, marriages, and deaths. In thenext family the husband seemed indifferent about the book, but the wifewanted it, which I readily discovered. 'I'm poor,' said he; and hiswife said, 'He was unable to work during the summer.' 'I have Biblesfor thirty cents.' 'Well, I haven't money enough to pay for one.' 'Youcan have it at your own price.' 'I don't like to take a book that way.''It makes no difference; I am authorized to make this offer to you:you can have it[Pg 304] for ten or fifteen cents.' 'Certainly; I'd give tencents for a Bible any time.' This saved his pride. He has been greatlypleased with his Bible, and whenever I pass his house he comes outand asks me questions relative to my success, and gives me directionshow to pass over the country, as if he were one of the 'ExecutiveCommittee.' I sold a Bible to an Irish toll-gate-keeper. I had been onthe pike about a mile, and asked him the toll. 'Nothing, sir; are youa doctor?' 'No, sir, I am a bookseller. Do you wish to buy?' 'I reckonnot; I work six days on the road, and on Sundays I read a newspaper.''Have you a Bible?' 'No, sir.' 'Wouldn't you like to have one?' 'Ibelieve I would, but I have no money.' 'It makes no difference; if youhave no Bible and want one, I'll leave it.' 'I don't like to take itin that way.' 'No difference; if you'll read it carefully, we shall bewell paid.' 'Why,' said he, when I told him the price was twenty-fivecents, 'in Ireland the binding would be more than that; and I'll payyou the first time you pass this gate.' I went down a creek nearly amile to see a family, and came back. When some three hundred yardsfrom the toll-gate, I saw the keeper sitting upon the ground, leaningagainst the house, perfectly absorbed in reading his Bible. He hassince paid me for it, and he and his wife are greatly pleased with it.Staid all night with a poor family; wife a church-member, and no Bible;husband[Pg 305] careless, but wife anxious to have one. In the morning I tooka thirty-cent Bible from my saddle-bags and commenced filling out thefamily record. Said he: 'I don't want you to give me that book. I don'tcharge you for staying all night.' 'I find you destitute, and wish youto have a Bible.' He stood for some time, then went to a drawer, and,finding a quarter, gave it to me, saying it was all he had, and kindlyinvited me to call again.

"One day I visited twenty-one families, eleven of whom were destituteof the Bible. Another day I visited twenty families, and found tendestitute of the Bible. During the spring I left a box of books atthe house of a magistrate, as a depositary, while I visited theneighborhood. Said he, 'Do you think you will find anybody here withouta Bible?' 'I don't know, sir.' 'Some two years since,' said he, 'Ilooked around and could not find but one man destitute, and him Isupplied.'

"I commenced my labors, and found his partner in a mill destitute; thenone of his hands, having a family; then an old neighbor, who was achurch-member. The squire gave it up, and said it was necessaryto have colporteurs.

"In some of these destitute neighborhoods they told me that no personhad ever visited them before with Bibles and Testaments. They occupieda very broken country; their houses were cabins scattered over the[Pg 306]hills and up narrow valleys, with very small patches of ground fencedin around them, generally with no bars, and always with no gates. Itraveled among them, following the rocky beds of the streams, andfrequently led my horse up and down the steep hills, and pulled downfences, till at night I was so tired I could scarcely walk. I have hadmany discouragements, many taunts and sneers to bear from those whohad not the love of God shed abroad in their hearts; but then I havehad the smiles, the assistance, and the warm coöperation of Christiansto hold up my feeble hands, and cheer up my desponding heart. I havefound such families with six, eight, and ten Bibles in a single house;I have found many who have thrown open their doors and bid me welcometo the hospitality of their homes, who, by their kind words and theirquestions respecting my work, caused me to forget the sneers and tauntsof others, and made me adore the Almighty for the success with whichhe crowned the labors of his servants employed in his vineyard. Maythe Lord inspire the minds of Christians with greater zeal for thedissemination of his Word!"

In another county Mr. Temple visited seven hundred and three families,of whom eighty-three were destitute of the Bible. His sales of Biblesand Testaments amounted to ninety dollars and forty cents, and hisdonations to the destitute to forty-three dollars and twenty-fivecents. The exploration of the county[Pg 307] revealed a much greater amountof poverty and destitution of the Word of God than he had expected tofind. The following are some of the incidents connected with his labors:

"A poor widow with five children had no Bible, but she had a smallTestament, which she got her children to read to her, as it wasdifficult for her to read such small print. She had long been anxiousto get a Bible, and was delighted when I told her I had Bibles forsale, but she feared she had not money enough to get one. She wasgreatly pleased with the large Testament and Psalms, as she could readthe print. She gathered together all the money she and her childrenhad, and made up twenty-five cents, for which I gave her the Testamentand Psalms. In another neighborhood I was told by a good many personsof a poor widow that had no Bible, who was very anxious to get one.Her Bible had been wet and ruined in moving from North Carolina, andshe had been several years without one. She had been saving money fromthe sale of eggs and chickens to get enough to buy a Bible. When Ireached the place, I found a poor cabin in an old field, and everythingindicating great poverty. A chair was standing in the door, which wasopen, but there was no one at home. I wrote in a Bible, 'Presented bythe Bible Society,' and left it in the chair, and rode on.

"I heard of one old man who had nine grown[Pg 308] children, and had never hada Bible or Testament in his family. I was told that he was a skepticand very profane, and that I had better not visit him, as he wouldtreat me roughly. I found him plowing, and talked with him a long timeabout farming, and at length about our dependence upon God for crops,and finally told him I was selling Bibles. He invited me to dine withhim, and I went to his house and sold him a family Bible, and also soldBibles to a married son and daughter. The old man did not use a profaneword during my visit, and I was never treated better by any man. Hethanked me for my visit, and begged me to call on him whenever I passedthat way.

"I visited a house and found no one at home. As the family wasevidently very poor, and I had learned that they had no Bible, I wroteon one, 'Presented by the Bible Society,' and left it between the logs,near the door, where they would be sure to find it when they came home.I rode on about two miles, and called at another house. As soon as Ishowed my Bibles, one of the women said she was sorry she was not athome, as she had no Bible and had long been anxious to get one. Shethought she had money enough to get a thirty-cent Bible, and if I wouldgo back with her she would buy one if she could. I then told her I hadleft a Bible for her, and where she would find it, and she thanked mevery warmly for the gift.

[Pg 309]

"I visited another family that had no Bible, and sold them one. As thechildren were looking at my books, I heard a little girl, about tenyears old, say that she wished she had money enough to buy one of theseBibles; that her mother, when she talked with her before she died,had told her she must get a Bible as soon as she could, and read it,and be a good girl, and meet her in heaven. I inquired her history,and learned that she was an orphan. I then gave her a Bible, and shecommenced reading it. Dinner was soon ready, but she could not beinduced to stop reading long enough to eat, and when I left the houseshe was still reading her new Bible."

Father Eggen, a veteran Bible distributor, said: "One man told me hehad a neighbor who was very poor, who had no Bible, and I gave himone to send to him. I afterward called on this family, not knowing itwas the same. The house was without floor or loft, and was inclosedby nailing rough boards upon posts that were driven into the ground.It had a stick-and-mud chimney on the outside, and was without floorof any kind, the family living on the ground. The man followed makingsplit-bottomed chairs, and was very poor indeed, but he insisted uponpaying for the Bible that had been sent to him, and did so.

"In one neighborhood where there was a small supply of Bibles andTestaments at a store, the man who had them, a professing Christian,insisted that[Pg 310] there was no necessity for employing a distributor to goaround; said that, if people wanted Bibles, they could easily come tothe store and get them. I, however, went through this neighborhood, andfound in one day fifteen families without a Bible. Some of them werevery large families, and had been destitute for many years."

It is now (August 1, 1881) more than twenty-three years since Iresigned my commission as an agent of the American Bible Society.During the last week I have visited the Bible House, examined theirwell-preserved files of letters, and read the correspondence betweenSecretary McNeill and myself during the last months of my connectionwith the Society. Some extracts from these letters will appropriatelyclose this brief review of "work accomplished in the Southwest."

[Pg 314]

[Pg 315]

Notwithstanding the earnestness of these entreaties, I felt compelledto retire from this work. No one could appreciate its importance morehighly than, from my personal knowledge of its needs, I did. But formore than ten years since my graduation from the theological seminary,I had been constantly "on the wing." As stated in my opening chapter,I had spent five years as an invalid wanderer. I had roamed over theSouthern States nearly a year, had made two visits to the Island ofHayti, and spent a second winter in the South. I had then entered uponthese itinerant labors, in which I had spent nearly five years more. Iwas not weary of the work, but I wanted change; I sighed for rest andan opportunity to study—to commune again with my beloved books thathad remained unopened during all these years. In addition to thesepersonal desires, my labors had revealed the imperative demand for theliberal education of as many as possible of the young men in the wideregion I had so thoroughly explored; and a large number of my "manyfriends" had signified to me their strong desire to place their sonsin the college should I accept the appointment. I therefore wrote myresignation, as follows:

In the following October I mounted my horse at Princeton, Kentucky, androde to Hopkinsville to attend the Louisville Annual Conference, as Ihad regularly done so many years before. In a copy of the "HopkinsvilleMercury," October 20, 1858, now before me, I find the following noticeof my address, and the action of the Conference upon that occasion:

[Pg 318]

CONCLUSION OF BIBLE WORK.

To see what I have seen, and to know what I have known, of the goodaccomplished by my labors, have been abundant compensation for allmy travels and for all my toils; and I await, with bright and happyanticipations, the fuller revelations and rewards of a blissfuleternity.

LABORS FOR THE COLLEGE.

I entered upon my duties as President of Cumberland College, atPrinceton, Kentucky, the second Monday in September, 1858. Of thecommencement of my labors there I wrote as follows:

[Pg 319]

My labors here until 1861 were not less exhausting than they had beensince I entered upon my Bible work in 1853. In addition to my dutiesin the college, I traveled extensively, "electioneering" for students,as was the custom in that region. Their numbers increased to suchan extent that we needed an additional building. I appealed to thepeople of the village and the county, and they responded most nobly bysubscribing twenty thousand dollars, and erecting a college edifice,with a large assembly hall, library, recitation and all other neededrooms. I had the pleasure of taking my esteemed friend, the RightRev. B.B. Smith, D.D., Bishop of the Protestant Episcopal Church inKentucky, through the building, on one of his annual parochial visitsto the village, and he pronounced it the most[Pg 320] perfect and beautifulspecimen of architecture in the State.

The attack on Fort Sumter, and the events that followed it, compelledthe suspension of this, as they did of nearly or quite every othercollege in the Southwest and South, and terminated my labors there.Wishing to engage in similar educational work elsewhere, I asked fortestimonials from a few of my friends, including Bishop Smith. Hekindly gave the following, with which, as I at that time terminatedmy labors in the State, I will close this very personal volume,descriptive of my always pleasantly and gratefully remembered life andlabors in the Southwest:

THE END.

RELIGIOUS WORKS.

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Fifteen Sermons,

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Epiphanies of the Risen Lord.

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Studies in the Mountain Instruction.

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The Endless Future of the Human Race.

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Critical, Explanatory, and Practical Notes on the
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"I learn that this series—including the entire Scriptures in sixteenvolumes—is now completed. It is a great work and a great success.

"When the first volume appeared, it was widely recognized as a work ofspecial ability and excellence. It was an undeniably 'good thing comeout of Nazareth.' Volume after volume has been marked with the sameexcellences.

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"No one but a sound and erudite scholar could have written thesecommentaries, but they are quite free from ostentatious display oflearning. Most admirable good sense and discriminating judgment reignthroughout the whole. The English style is very remarkable for itsunaffected simplicity and crystal clearness. I do not believe there canbe found one attempt at fine writing in these volumes, but they areoften beautifully and affectingly eloquent.

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"It would rejoice my heart to see Professor Cowles duly honored in theuse of his commentaries by all whom it has been my privilege to countamong my pupils. I most cordially commend to all intelligent Christianmen and women the careful perusal of these learned, instructive, anddeeply spiritual commentaries. The possession of them would be apriceless treasure to any family, minister, or Sabbath-school teacher.

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Embracing Twenty Thousand Citations of Scripture Texts, and ofDiscourses founded thereon, under a Twofold Arrangement.

I. Textual.

In which all the Principal Texts of Scripture, together with thevarious Themes they have suggested, are quoted and set forth in theorder of the Sacred Canon, from Genesis to Revelation; to which isadded a list of Passages cited from the Old Testament in the New.

II. Topical.

In which Bible Themes, with reference to Texts and Authors, areclassified and arranged in Alphabetical Order, forming at once aKey to Homiletical Literature in general, and a complete TopicalIndex of the Scriptures on a New Plan. With valuable Appendices.

SKETCHES AND SKELETONS OF 500 SERMONS.

By the author of "The Pulpit Cyclopædia." 1 vol., 8vo. Cloth, $2.50.

PULPIT CYCLOPÆDIA AND MINISTER'S COMPANION.

1 vol., 8vo. Cloth, $2.50.

BURNS'S CYCLOPÆDIA OF SERMONS.

Uniform with "The Pulpit Cyclopædia." 1 vol., 8vo. Cloth, $2.50.

CRITICAL, EXPLANATORY, and PRACTICAL NOTES ON THE OLD AND NEW TESTAMENT.

Designed for the Use of Pastors and People. By Henry Cowles,D.D. Complete in 16 volumes, 12mo, uniformly bound in cloth. Pricefor the complete work, $25.00; or separate volumes may be had at theregular catalogue price.

EARLY CHRISTIAN LITERATURE PRIMERS.

Edited by Professor GEORGE P. FISHER, D.D.

These Primers will embody, in a few small and inexpensive volumes,the substance of the characteristic works of the great Fathers of theChurch. The plan recognizes four groups of works:

NOW READY:

I.

The Apostolic Fathers and the Apologists of the Second Century.

By Rev. GEORGE A. JACKSON.

One volume, 18mo, price, cloth, 60 cents.

Contents: Introduction—The Earlier PatristicWritings—The Apostolic Fathers—Clement of Rome—Sketch,Epistle to Corinthians, and Clementine Literature; Ignatius—Sketch,and Epistle to Romans, Ephesians, and Polycarp; Polycarp—Sketch, andEpistle to Philippians; Barnabas—Sketch, and Epistle. AssociatedAuthors. Hermas—Sketch, and the Shepherd; Papias—Sketch, andFragments.

The Apologists.—Introductory Sketch—Notice, and Epistle toDiognetus; Justin—Sketch, First Apology, and Synopsis of Dialoguewith Trypho; Author of Muratorian Fragment, and the Fragment;Melito—Sketch, and Fragment; Athenagoras—Sketch, Chapters fromMission about Christians, and Final Argument on the Resurrection.

"Judging from this opening volume, we heartily recommend theseries."—New York Independent.

II.

The Fathers of the Third Century.

By Rev. GEORGE A. JACKSON.

One volume, 18mo, price, cloth, 60 cents.

Contents: Progress of Christianity in the Third Century;Greek Writers: Introduction—Irenæus, Sketch of Life andSummaries of Works, with Extracts—Hippolytus, do.—Clementof Alexandria, do.—Origen, do.—Gregory Thaumaturgus,do.—The other Greek Writers; Latin Writers:Introduction—Tertullian, Sketch, Summaries, and Extracts—Cyprian,do.—The other Latin Writers.

"This little volume is one of the best hand-books of Christian historyfor that century in the English language."—Christian at Work.

The Old Testament

IN THE JEWISH CHURCH:

Twelve Lectures on Biblical Criticism, with Notes. By W. RobertsonSmith, M.A., Recently Professor of Hebrew and Exegesis of the OldTestament, Free Church College, Aberdeen. 1 vol., 12mo. Cloth, $1.75.

"Professor Robertson Smith's book is exactly what was wanted at onceto inform and to stimulate. Written by one of the first Semiticscholars of our time, it is completely abreast of the most recentinvestigations, and pervaded by a thoroughly scholar-like spirit. Hiseasy mastery of the subject and his sense of which are the reallydifficult points and which the settled ones are apparent on everypage. What is more surprising is the skill wherewith these resourcesare used. Although scientific in the sense of being thorough, exact,and business-like, the book is also popular—that is to say, it isperfectly intelligible to every person of fair general educationwho has read the Bible. For clearness of statement, for cogency ofargument, for breadth of view, for impartiality of tone, for thejudgment with which details are subordinated to the most interestingand instructive principles and facts, it is a model of how a great anddifficult subject should be presented to the world."—Pall MallGazette.

"Speaking after mature deliberation, we pronounce Professor RobertsonSmith's book on Biblical Science one of the most important worksthat has appeared in our time. It justifies, in a convincing andconclusive manner, what we have from first to last maintained regardinghim—namely, that he was engaged in an enterprise auspicious to theChristian Church; that he was not assailing the faith, but fortifyingit. He has not abandoned one jot or one tittle of his principles, buthe now for the first time states them comprehensively, and points outtheir natural and logical applications."—The Christian World(London).

"In his studies the author has made a careful use of the studies ofthe great critics of England and Germany. But his work is marked bya spirit of intrepid independence and an individuality which refusesto surrender at discretion to anybody. He refuses to be lifted fromhis feet on the solid rock of Christian faith, by any passing waveof skepticism. As an introduction to the Old Testament for the useof teachers, and a vigorous, scholarly statement of the principlesand results of conservative Biblical criticism, as related to theOld Testament, these lectures will be found specially serviceableand interesting. And they are certainly remarkable as an indicationof a liberal movement in the Scottish Church."—New York EveningExpress.

"Heresy is a difficult charge to prove nowadays, and when proved to thesatisfaction of the religious court seems to advance a man's reputationrather than injure it. Here is Professor Robertson Smith, who wasfound too heretical to be allowed to address the students at Aberdeen,Scotland, on the Hebrew language and literature, who is received in thelarger world with something of the prestige of a martyr. Influentiallaymen, both in Edinburgh and Glasgow, have requested him to deliverin both cities a course of lectures on the present state of Biblicalcriticism. These lectures have now been delivered, and are publishednot only in England, but in this country also."—New York Times.

"How far Professor Smith's conclusions may coincide with those of ourown best Biblical scholars we shall not undertake to say, but his workis so able and accurate, so scholarly and devout, that it will be readwith interest by American clergymen and students, and will stimulateall who read it to make further researches in the same field."—TheChristian-at-Work.

Sent, post-paid, to any address in the United States, on receipt of theprice.

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Published Monthly. Containing articles of general public interest, itis a forum for their full and free discussion. It is cosmopolitan,and, true to its ancient motto, it is the organ of no sect, or party,or school. Subscription, $5.00 per annum; single copy, 50 cents. Thevolumes begin January and July of each year. Volumes, in cloth, $3.50each; half morocco, $4.00 each.

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*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 73379 ***