^^•..0- * * ^A V^ ■V r. H 1^/ / VK \ \'vl * ^ , ^ "* "^ <\ \ ^ N c -,>° J^rom the ptage Coach TO THE PULPIT. From the Stage Coach TO THE PULPIT, BEINQ AN AUTO-BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH, WITH INCIDENTS AND ANECDOTES, OF S' y ELDER HkTK. STIMSON, THE VETERAN PIONEER OF WESTERN NEW YORK, NOW OF KANSAS. EDITED BY REV. T. Wj GREENE, OF KANSAS. >/ //^',/ >:,-' SAINT LOUIS : ^^y E. A. CAMPBELL, PUBLISHEE, S. E. Cor. Fifth and Olive Sts. 1874. /y7t Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1874, by H. K. STIMSON, In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. ST. LOUIS, MO., BARNS & BEYNON, Printers and Stereotypers, 215 Pine Street. CONTENTS. PAQB. Author's Preface, - ... - 9 Editor's Preface, ----- 10 Introduction, ----- 11 Poetry, -------14 CHAPTER I. Birth. — ^Boyhood, ----- 17 CHAPTER H. Running away from Home. — Stage Driving and Stage Drivers, - - - - - - 27 CHAPTER HI. Returning Home.— First Interview with my Father, 40 CHAPTER ly. Courtship and Marriage. — Early Married Life, 64 CHAPTER V. A Turning Point. — ^Victory over Whisky.— ^A Shoot- ing Match, Etc., - - - - 66 CHAPTER VI. A Search for a Church, - - - - 86 CHAPTER Vn. The Church Found, - - . . 92 CHAPTER Vm. A Year of Jubilee, ----- 98 6 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. CHAPTEE IX. Shalt. I Pbeach? — First Pastorate, - - 106 CHAPTER X. Leaving Alabama. — Parma, - - - - 133 CHAPTER XI. A Trial of Open Communion, - - - 162 CHAPTER Xn. An Old Sore. — Second Widowhood, - - 168 CHAPTER Xm. Evangelizing. — ^Pastorate at Warsaw, - 174 CHAPTER XIV. Wheatland, ------ 188 CHAPTER XV. Adrlin, -----. 203 CHAPTER XVI. Penn Yan, - - - - - 212 CHAPTER XVn. Marion, ------ 227 CHAPTER XVm. Racine, ------- 236 CHAPTER XIX. Re-Settlement at Warsaw, - - . 240 CHAPTER XX. La Grange. — The War, - - - - 242 CHAPTER XXI. Ho for Kansas, ----- 279 CONTENTS. • CHAPTER XXn. A Kansas Field, - - - • - 287 CHAPTER XXm. Closing the War in Missouri, - - - 295 CHAPTER XXIV. "Ottawa University" and Leavenworth, - 308 CHAPTER XXV. The Baptist Tabernacle, - - ■ 322 CHAPTER XXVI. KiNDERHOOK. — "Wheatland, - - - - 829 CHAPTER XXVn. Burlington, Kansas, - - - « 335 CHAPTER XXVm. Old Memories, ----- 341 CHAPTER XXIX. Elder Weaver, - - , - - 348 CHAPTER XXX. Reflections. — Home Again, - - - • 8d3 CHAPTER XXXI. MlSCELLANT, ------ 864 CHAPTER XXXn. Sermons, ------- 388 CHAPTER XXXHI. A Night with the Rackensacks and Pukes, - 416 CONCLUSION. , Personal Sk^etch by the Editor, - - 424 THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE. In pkesenting this volume to the Christian Public and "the rest of mankind," I know that I am liable to severe criticism, to which I do not object if it is made in kind- ness. Such has always done me good. I have had a maxim through life, I once invented in self- defense, that a man that can't spell a word but one way, is a literary fool. For the practical illustration my manuscript affords that I am not a fool in this sense, if it appears on the printed page, you can blame the editor. Key. T. W. Greene. I make no claim to originality, except in memory. This I have endeavored to use to the best advantage in applying other men's thoughts and principles. I believe in the largest liberty to all men in advocating their views and sentiments, if not dogmatic and superstitious. I advocate a liberal edu- cation, a liberal contribution to all benevolent institutions, and large donations to ministers. I have no great enemies, except the devil. All others are of small calibre and not worth a notice. I love all mankind, and good horses. For the rest of the world I care but little, as I am nearly through it. I wish you to buy the book, pay for it and read it. Then you will have a consciousness of two things : first, you own a book and are independent. Second, you are helping an old man and woman to a little support in the evening of life. May God bless you. H. K. S. Burlington, Kansas, 1874. THE EDITOR'S PREFACE, I BELIEVE in preaching and like to preach. I also believe in writing and like to write, especially when helping to increase the acquaintance of the world with so genuine a man, and one so wide-awake for Christ, evenin the even- ing years of life, as Father Stimson. I have enjoyed the work of preparing the manuscript of this book for the press. As Dr. Bushnell would say, it has been play for me. It was nearly done before I knew it. Only a few weeks of an exceedingly hot season have been spent by Father Stiihson in preparing the pencil notes good and ample, and by myself in making them comply with the exactions of the printer, and a little more fully represent the Autiior ; and that, too, in the midst of uninterrupted pastoral work on the part of both. My only wish is that the book may be read by many dming his life here and after he has entered on the better life, and with the same relish with which the labor of pre- paring it has been accomplished. Then I shall be sure it will do more good than we both could have done in the same time in any other way. T. W. G. Junction City, Kansas. INTEODUCTION. It was in the winter of 1843, I first saw Kev. H. K. Stimson. It was in mv native town in Western New York, and at an age when my mind was very easily impressed by the presence of men of mark. The occasion was the meeting of an Ecclesiastical Council, which excited great interest in that community. Mr. Stimson was a delegate from a neighboring church. He was then a young man, full of point, soul and magnetism, which years have not lessened. Because of his brilliancy, piquancy and quaintness, all eyes admiringly centered upon him when he spoke. To my youthful mind, he was the chief attraction of the Council. I have ever remembered him as I saw and heard him there. He then told a certain story, with such inimitable skill and dramatic power — a story having a patness and application so hitting and ludicrous — that I can never forget it or its author. Who might this curious and strangely potent man be? I wondered. It came out that he was a converted stage- driver, of Irish descent, and the wittiest minister in the Genesee country. From that day to this I have known H. K. Stimson, and jfrom the time I went into the ministry he has known me, I think ; and if he has not loved me, I have had the sweet retaliation of loving him. For more than thirty years in Western New York, he held a prominent place as a preacher and pastor. No man in that region stood higher as a 12 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. faithful, able and useful ininister of the Gospel than he. This is saying much, for he was associated with such men as.Elon Galusha, Elisha Tucker, Pharcellus Church, James Keed, Ichabod Clark, William Arthur, Charles Van Loon, Daniel Eldridge, the Elliots, Harrison Daniels and "Walter Brooks. In the learning of the schools, Mr. Stimson never professed to be a proficient, but the Gospel and men he knows by heart. Wit, tact, knowledge of human nature and ready ability to use current events, superadded to a great and good heart, and to a naturally strong and withy intellect, all consecrated to God, have made him a most popular, devoted and efficient minister of Christ for forty-five years. His auto-biography is a book over which readers will both laugh and cry. No person who has ever known this remarkable man will fail to be interested in the work, and in it thousands of others, in all Christian denominations, will find entertainment and profit. In wit and drollery, this book is keener than the works of professional humorists, in its serious portions and theological utterances, it is as sound as Jonathan Edwards; and in its touching passages and pictures, it is as tender as anything which Pay son or McChene ever wrote. As the subject of this taking volume is a welcome guest in all denominations and circles, because he is a Christian, a gentleman, a genial companion, a helpfal minister and a man of the soundest common sense, so his auto-biography will be welcomed by all classes, professions and ages. The book is the man in portraiture, and this is its highest commendation. Mr. Stimson is now well on in life, but is INTRODUCTION. 13 as vivacious, as social, as generous and as companionable as ever; and the book is just like Mm. When he leaves your house, wife, husband and all the children say, " come again." A book picturilig such a character and life as his, so full of telling incidents, of rich personal liistory, of hits, of genius, of talent, of eloquence, of pathos, of piety, of good sense, must be remarkable, a priori. Upon examina- tion, the work proves itself the satisfactory fulfillment of the prophecy which such a character utters. The Editor, Kev. Mr. Greene, his neighbor in Kansas, where Mr. Stimson has lived for the last few years, has done his work so well, as to richly deserve the thanks of the thousands the land over who know and love the '^ Converted Stage-Driver," and who pray that the evening of his life may be as sunny as its noon ; and that, as from the stage coach Christ transferred him to the pulpit, so from the pulpit, though not for many years. He may transfer him to Himself in glory, not only to be forever with his Lord, but with the great multitude brought to Jesus by his labors. A. H. BURLINGHAM. St. Louis, January, 1874. FAEEWELL TO THE COACH. Farewell to the Coach that has carried us long Through sunshine and storm with wheels rolling fast; A kindly farewell in a brief, simple song, And a smile and a tear for its far away past. A smile for the memories pleasant and pure, A tear for whatever unhallowed was there; Let the first with all that is precious endure, And the last be forgotten in praise and in prayer. How strong was your frame and capacious each seat, Old Coach, as you rolled on your track every day; And how many good friends we then used to greet, As they climbed into you, and we sped on our way. How waited and watched for then was our load! How welcome the letters we bore up and downl How gaily our horses stepped out on the road. Or dashed up the street full speed into town! Now better enjoyment we thankfully find, For our last whip and bottle were cracked long ago; Though to crack a good joke we still feel inclined, And we bear other news as we go to and fro. Good tidings, great blessings we gladly proclaim, Christ's life and His death, the epistles of Paul; To those who will weep o'er His sorrow and shame, And rejoice in the news that can ransom us all. We still hope to carry full many a soul From evil to good, from sin to salvation; For the chariot wheels of the Gospel must roll Until the grand story is told to each nation. CHAPTEE I. BIRTH AND BOYHOOD. I WAS born — so I have been told — at Saratoga Springs, October 11th, 1804. My parents were of Irish extraction, having descended from an ancient stock in the North of Ii*eland. All I know of their religious opinions is that they were of Presbyterian proclivities, and, like most other adherents of the Scotch "Kirk," strongly prejudiced against all other denominations, especially Roman Catholics, and no less, the Baptists. This prejudice my father never overcame. My mother finally became more tolerant, but it was not until the Baptists had become quite numerous in Western New York that any of my fam- ily were immersed. My father, who was a draper and tailor at Saratoga Springs, moved from there to what was then called the "Genesee Country," in the winter of 1811-12. Our family at this time consisted of my parents and their three children, I being seven years of age and the oldest of my mother's children. At this time nearly all west of Canandaigua was one vast wilderness, and 18 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. I well remember the contrast between our pleasant home at the Springs and the rude log hut in the dense forest in the "town" of Mendon. With the excep- tion of an occasional visit to my uncle John Stimson, who lived four miles distant, I was constantly in the house Avith my mother, or with my father in the woods where he was '* clearing." To one thus situ- ated, any event which would enable him to see a com- pany of men gathered together, was indeed hailed with joy. Such an event was the first town meet- ing of the ''town" of Mendon, held at Deacon Eli Ewer's in the spring of 1812. During the pre- vious winter the ' ' town " of Bloomfield had been di- vided into four ''towns," one of which was Mendon. It was therefore necessary to have a ' ' town meeting " there, which was called at the house of Eli Ewer, a deacon of the Presbyterian Church. I remember feeling quite elated when I started with my father to attend the meeting. I anticipated a good time, and it seemed as though all there determined that my an- ticipations should be fulfilled. The deacon had the day previous obtained a license to keep a public house, and had laid in a good supply of rye whisky. He also served up to his guests a dinner consisting of baked pork and beans ; a dish that may have been BIRTH AND BOYHOOD. 19 heard of still further east. Although a plam repast, and iieedmg but little table furniture, his supply was found totally inadequate to the demand. His plates were of brown earthen-ware and wooden trenchers. For forks there were short sticks tipped with prongs of wire, the other part of the cutlery being supplied with pieces of scythe points and jack-knives. Dur- ing the dinner hour everything was in confusion and noise, but the utmost good feeling prevailed. After dinner, games, business and drinking occupied the time till sundown, when the majority started for home, many very much intoxicated; for men got drunk even in the good old times. A few of them were beastly drunk. The beasts will please excuse me. There is one consolation, however, the whisky they drank was pure. But pure as it was, it operated badly on the deacon's windows, doors and premises generally. It had a very dilapidating effect upon them. The next day Deacon Ewer gave up his li- cense and quit the rather expensive business of sell- ing whisky. In the spring of 1814, my father moved from his place in the woods to a public house on the road leading from Irondequoit Bay to Lima, where he kept tavern for the next four years. This was then 20 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. the great Western thoroughfare, Bufialo being the "far West." While residing here there was no school which I could attend, and I was compelled to spend my time around the bar-room, where I was educated to all the vice and folly attendant upon such a place, but making no advancement in intellect and certainly none in moral education. In the fall of 1818,1 left home and worked at another tavern for my board, while I attended school for the first time since I was a child. In the spring of this year I had my first religious impressiolis, and well do I remember the occasion. A young com- panion of mine. Napoleon B. Stickney, and myself, attended a prayer meeting, conducted by the Eev. John Taylor, of the Congregational Church, and "Deacon EH Lyon, of the Baptist Church. Stickney and myself, both vain and wicked youths, had gone there out of mere curiosity. During the evening. Deacon L3'on gave a short but very im- pressive history of his experience and conversion, which, for the time, made a deep impression on my mind. Stickney was also much afiected, and, on our way home, he said to me, " Hiram, I am a great sinner, and I feel as though it was my duty to quit the evil practices of Sabbath breaking, profane BIRTH AND BOYHOOD. 21 swearing and card playing." I at once told him of my own convictions, of my guilt as a sinner, and invited " Boney," as we called him, to stay with me at the tavern that night. He accepted my invitation, and we started for my room. The family had all retired, and the house was still when we reached it. We sat down in the bar-room where we had so often joked and made merry, but this time to talk over our deplorable condition as sinning against our God and Saviour. We had talked but a short time when " Boney" said, " Hiram, you go and get the Bible and we will read it." I stolS away into the room where I knew the Bible was kept, a useless book to all the family. I brought it and gave it to " Boney." He opened at the lifty-fifth chapter of Isaiah, and commenced reading. When he closed the book he looked at me with a strange stare and said, " Hiram, pray." And there we both knelt on the floor of the dirty bar-room, filled with the fumes of w^hisky and the odor of burnt tobacco, and prayed in broken sentences and homely expressions, but with earnest- ness. What I said I know not. But after rising we mutually promised to reform and lead a better life. But how vain are most of our promises of reformation. The very next Sabbath, Stickney and 22 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. I went fishing all day. Thus may be seen how little dependence is to be placed upon resolutions of a better life when God is not really loved, and when our dependence upon Him is not realized and acknowledged with that acknowledgment that comes from renewed hearts. From this time till I was eighteen I worked at the tavern, going to school three months each winter, pursuing only such branches as were then taught, imperfectly taught, and as imperfectly received and applied. So that when at this age the importance of an education first impressed itself upon my mind and I received my advancement, I found I could only read and ^M-ite, knowing nothing or nearly nothing of arithmetic and geography. As I thought over these things, and as the value of an education arose before my mental vision, I was compelled to look about with a determination to lay hold of any possible chance that would allow me to pursue a course of study. But all was dark, dreary and dis- couraging. My parents were now too poor to help me. There were no good schools in that part of the country that I could attend, even by '' choring" for my board. And with no means nor any way of obtaining them to pay my expenses away from home, Birth and boyhood. 23 and no kind friend to extend a benevolent hand or speak an encouraging word by way of relief, I settled down into the belief that there is such a thing as toiling for knowledge under difficulties, and that there are some lighter amusements than working one's way through school. With these facts dogging my heels, I saAv that my hopes of obtaining an edu- cation at that time were vain. I soon dismissed the idea of enjoying the advantages of attending school where I was, and as to going East to attend one, that could only be done by the sons of the wealthy. This, in connection with my father's somewhat intemperate habits, led me to the conclusion that I must make the best of my poor condition in life, and so I set myself to the work of whiling away my youth in ignorance and vice. Some time previous to this my father had given up the tavern and opened a small whisky grocery, ob- taining his stock of one S , who kept a hotel and store in the village of East Mendon. After continu- ing this grocery a little time, my father found him- self indebted to S , to the amount of eighty dol- lars, with no way to pay it. To settle the matter, S proposed that I should come and work it out at his hotel. A formal contract was at once drawn 24 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. up, but I was to be kept iu ^uorauce of the fact that I was workmg to pay for a " dead horse," or, what was m fact much worse, for whisky long since swal- lowed. S came to me and said, "Hi, I want you to work for me a year tenduig bar, and now and then driving those black horses of mine, wliich I am fitting for market. How much do you want a month ?" The idea of being a kind of superintendent of a small tavern and of driving as fine a team as S 's blacks was the height of all greatness to my mind, and we struck a bargain at eight dollars a month. Mr. S soon after started for New York City, leaving me to take charge of the tavern, and a young man by the name of Brace as clerk in his store. My wardrobe at the time was somewhat scanty, and as spring came on I had need of new and more respectable clothing ; that is, my position as mixer of whisky sling, gin cocktails and brandy smashes, and retailer of ' ' penny grab " cigars required that I should appear in dignified attire. I went into the store and told Brace that I wanted cloth for a new suit of clothes, a new hat, boots, etc. What was my sui'prise and chagrin when he told me I was at work to pay the old debt of my father, and he was in- structed not to let me have anything out of the store J BIRTH AND BOYHOOD. 25 during Mr. S 's absence. At this I was indig- nant and not a little enraged, and I at once said, '* Well, then I shall leave ; you may take charge of the hotel and the horses, for I am not the boy to work for any old whisky debts, and go ragged while doinof so, into the baro^ain." I was about to leave the store in a rage when Brace, who by the way was a good friend of mine, and in deep sympathy with me, said, «« Well, Hiram, I will let you have what you want on my account. I will take the responsibility until Mr. S returns from New York, and then you and he can settle the matter." I at once replied, "No, I will not take a thing only on my own account and for my own labor. If I cannot have what I want on those conditions I will stay no longer, and as to working out that old whisky debt, it is something I will never do." At this decided declaration Brace replied, "Very well, ffi, it is too bad, and I will let you have what you want and you must settle it with Mr. S when he returns from New York City." Upon this condition cloth for a summer suit, cloth for two shirts, a pair of shoes and a hat were se- cured. The cloth for my suit I carried home that my father might cut them out, and my mother and sister make them. That night after going to bed my 26 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. reflections were something like the following : * ' Now, when S gets home, we shall have a conflict about this matter. He and my father will lay their heads together, and compel me to work out this eighty dollar debt at eight dollars a month — ^ten long months. This is not right and just, I have no heart to stay and no determination to do it." EUNNING AWAY FROM HOME. 27 CHAPTER n. RUNNING AWAY FROM HOME. STAGE DRIVING AND STAGE DRIVERS. /TVHOUGHTS like these soon induced me to form -^ plans for leaving my home, parents, brothers and sisters, to seek my own livelihood among strangers. The next morning I asked my mother to make my shirts as soon as possible as I was in very great need of them. She and my sister were not long in finishing them ; and as soon as they were done I tied them in a bundle with the rest of my new made clothes and started apparently for the tavern, but really I knew not where. I passed out of the little village unob- served by any one. Arriving at the road leading to Bushnell's Basin on the Erie canal, I turned my steps thitherward. I did not take the main road, fearing that I might meet some one who would detect and report me. As I wended my lonely way among the by-roads I had ample time for reflection, and my mind was filled with thoughts like these: << Now, I am 28 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. taking an important step, one that will tell for good or evil on my whole after-life. I shall have no kind mother to look after me, no sweet sister to caress and respect me, no familiar friend to advise and counsel me. I am all alone, without friends or home, and now, after all, would I not gain by return- ing to Mendon, where I will be near my mother and sisters, and where I will see and be with those who are near and dear to me, even if I have to work almost a year to cancel that old whisky bill." Then, again, I thought: ''If I do return, I must be a poor, despised lackey in a miserable rum hole ; I must be an associate and companion of those belong- ing to the lowest grades of society ; I must work and thus spend a whole year of my life for nothing that will do me any good ; for something that has done no good in times past or present, and will benefit no one in time to come." With thoughts like these I arrived at the Basin, and took my stand upon the bridge to await the arrival of the next boat. I cared not much from which way it came, whether east or west, it mattered not to me. All I cared for was to go — somewhere, anywhere, but back to Mendon. I longed to be moving. I wanted to escape from the terrible dread RUNNING AWAY FROM HOME. 29 of working out old rum bills. I hated the very name of liquor, and despised all connected with it. I was desperate, and growing more and more so when a boat hove in sight, and I alighted upon its deck, taking passage for the East at one and a half cents a mile, board included. After a few miles' ride the captain approached me and said, "Young man, do you wish to get emplo^Tuent ? " I said, " Yes, sir ;" and we soon closed a bargain, he agree- ing to pay me ten dollars a month as a hand upon the boat. As we neared Syracuse, our steward was taken ill, and had to leave the boat at that place. As we had on board a number of passengers to be cared for, a new steward must be found. After some talking and calculating, I was established in that office, or, as the phrase was, I was made " chief cook and bottle-washer." In this position I gave general satisfaction, so much so that Capt. Warren and his passengers began to praise me as a first-rate bar-tender and a nmnber one cook. After arriving at Albany and unloading om' craft and cleaning up oirr cabins, I strolled up into the business part of town, and calling at a hotel, met James Herrington, an old stage driver with whom I had been acquainted at Mendon. We were both 30 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. taken by surprise ; and, in his rough and profane way — ^you don't want the profane part, and so I will leave it out — ^he said : '* How come you here ? " And then, introducing me to his companion, added : <'Here is Hi Stimson, one of the smartest boys I ever knew. He can cut more tricks and make more fun than any boy I ever saw. He can sing the best songs, dance the best hornpipes, make the best flip, sling or punch any of his age : and that aint all, ho is a tip-top reinsman, and can drive four or six horses to a nit's eye. Come, let's walk up and take a little ; the least drop in the world won't hurt you, if you wash it down with rum." After we had drunk, James took me one side and said : *' Hi, if you wish me to assist you in any way, I will do it. I think I can get you into a good berth here as a driver, for I know you are a first rate reinsman." I told him all my troubles ; how I came away from Mendon, and what induced me to leave home. This so affected him that he could not restrain his tears, and, taking me by the hand, he said: ''Well, Hiram, I will stand by you as long as I have a clean shirt and a shilling left." I informed him that I had all my wages due in the hands of Capt. Warren, and that I would settle with him and draw what was RUNNING AWAY FROM HOINIE. 31 coming to me, if there was a prospect of employ- ment at higher wages. He took me to the stage office, where he inti-oduced me to the proprietors of the line, with whom I soon closed a bargain, they agi'eeing to pay me sixteen dollars a month, with a bonus of twenty-five dollars, provided I remained a year. I then returned to the boat, settled with the captain, and drew my balance. The captain was sorry to have me leave, but exi3ressed himself pleased that I had found a better paying position. I commenced work in my new vocation as stage driver the next morning. The route was the gi'eat road between Albany and Schenectady. Here my only fear was that of meeting Mr. S , who would probably return from New York by stage. I had laid James H. under obligations to keep my where- abouts a secret, in case he should meet any one from the West that knew me. Thus passed the summer, from May till August. Although I saw many whom I recognized, yet no one I met knew me, until one morning, about the first of September, as I drove up to the hotel in Albany. Among those who came out to take stage was one H. B., a young man of Mendon, who was well acquainted in my father's family, and whom I 32 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. kuew to be conversant with all the facts about my leaving home, I having met him on my way from Mendon to Bushnell's Basin. I turned my face from him, turned up my collar and drew my hat over my eyes, to elude, if possible, his recognition of me. He stood, smoking his cigar, till almost all the others were in the stage, and then, turning to me, he said: ** Driver, can I ride on the box with you?" I answered, ** Yes, sir; certainly." After we set out from the city, he continued to ask me ques- tions about trifling matters, and I answered in the monosyllables *'yes" and *'no," until at length I turned my face toward him and he caught a glimpse of my features. With a loud expression of sur- prise, he exclaimed: *'0h! my , is this you, Hi? Your mother has cried her eyes out for you, and all Mendon is in wonder about what has become of you ; but all agree that you have served Mr. S. and your father just right. But it will lull your mother, if she does not hear from you." His conversation quite overcame me, and my hard and obdurate heart 3delded to the most filial and affectionate emotions, and I found relief in tears. I then laid B. under secrecy, he promising to say nothing about our meeting to any one except my RUNNING AWAY FROM HOME. 33 mother, and only to her after she had promised not to reveal my whereabouts to my father or to any of my family. B. was as good as his word, for on arriving at Mendon he called at my father's, and taking my mother aside, and after she had promised secrecy, told her all about our meeting and of my whereabouts and circumstances. She immediately sat down and wrote me the following kind and motherly letter : Mendon, August 27th, 1824. My Dear Boy : I was made to rejoice yesterday as Harry Benedict informed me that 3'ou are in Albany. This summer has indeed been a long one to me and your sisters, for we have been in constant suspense concerning you, my dear absent boy. Sally and Lucinda are not as yet in the secret of your whereabouts, as Hariy has made me promise not to tell that which I have heard from you. My dear Hiram, I hope you will conduct yourself in a manner that will be creditable to yourself and your family. Remember you have now no mother near you to watch over you, no kind sisters to exert a reclaiming influence upon your wandering habits. Therefore, you must be doubly watchful over your actions and thoughts, that you bring not your family to shame and bury in grief the head of your sorrowing mother. * * * * * * * 34 FEOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. Your father and Mr. S. have been in a rage of madness about your conduct m leaving as you did. Write me at Pittsford, and Harry Benedict will get the letter for me. Your affectionate mother, Nancy Stimson. I received this letter and read it with many con- flicting emotions, and then retired to my room, there to give vent to a flood of tears, such as only an ab- sent and erring but affectionate son who has read his first letter from a dear and lo^dng mother can shed. As I sat there alone pondering upon my condition, thinking of my mother, sisters and home, of all the pleasant hours I had spent there, 1 almost wished I was m the presence of my parents even at the expense of being at work for S tending bar ; but again the thought of that old whisky debt was too much for me, and made me resolve not to go back again ; and my hatred of rum and drunkenness was stronger and tenfold deeper-seated than ever. A call to duty in the coach-yard interrupted my reflections, but I went about my duties feeling, as I never had felt before, the influence, worth and con- stancy of a mother's love for an absent son. My friend James Herrington, who was at that time in the RUNNING AWAY FROM HOME. 35 yard, observed my sad look and downcast expression, and stepped up to me and said in a bantering tone, ** Well, Hi, what's the matter? Have you heard bad news from your sweetheart ? Is she going to jilt you, or what is the trouble ? " I begged him not to jeer me, and taking him one side showed him my mother's letter. He took it and perused its contents. As he read it I could see in his large, rough face the work- ings of the better man. As he finished reading, his eyes filled with tears, and in a half-choked voice he said, "God bless the old woman ! Hiram, it is a fact a mother is about the only true friend that we poor devils have. Your poor old mother will stand by and comfort you when everybody else forsakes you. That is just like a mother ; I know it from ex- perience." Feeling incompetent to write a proper reply to my mother's letter, I requested James to act as my scribe, to which request he readily consented , and in a short time he had finished the following letter, which I directed to my mother at Pittsford, care of Henry Benedict, who delivered it to its proper owner : AxBANY, Oct. 4th, 1824. My Dear Mother : Your kind and welcome letter came to hand last week, and I improve the present 36 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. moment in writing to you a few lines. I did not leave Meudon because I did not love you and all the family, my mother and my sisters particularly. I love you as I love my own eyes and life, but to stay there and work out an old debt contracted for whisky for the purpose of keeping in operation a little seven by nine grocery, the only business of which is to fin- ish off a few miserable old drunkards that the hotels cannot afford to do at so cheap a rate, is something I could not do. In the second place, father and Mr. S. deceived me by laying a plan to compel me to work it out and to go ragged while I was at work, thus obliging me to make a fool of myself, by being a mere lackey for a bar-room, and a buffoon for the devil. I am now doing well and saving my wages, and will send you and the girls something nice when I get a chance. Keep it all dark about my being in Albany or anywhere else, and believe me Your affectionate son, Hiram K. Stimson. These two letters were the only communications that passed between my mother and myself until I returned home — a space of eight months. After this event I continued my * ' professional " services as stage driver and general fun-maker among the craft until about the middle of October, at which EUNNING AWAY FEOM HOME. 37 time I was taken ill with a severe fever, being obliged to give up my team and keep my bed. After two weeks' sickness the doctor informed me that I was ««a very sick man," adding that if I had any friends they should be advised of my condition, for I was in some danger. Soon after he left the room, the hotel keeper came to me and inquired concern- ing my ability to pay for bemg taken care of. I sent for the agent of the line to come and see me. He and my friend James H. came in together. The agent told Munger, the hotel keeper, that he need give himself no trouble about the pa}^, as he would attend to all that matter. James said he would find a place where I could have better care than I was then getting at ]\Iunger's. He soon made arrange- ments for my removal to a private house, where I received the best attention and care that could be afibrded, considering their scanty accommodations. And although it was not a sister's care or a mother's nursing, yet it was all I could expect. James, and in fact all the drivers of the " old line," as it was called, and the wives of as many as were mamed, were constant m their attentions to me in my sick- ness. And here let me correct a false impression. It is 38 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. generally supposed that stage drivers are an unfeel- ing, worthless class of beings. It is true many of them are exceedingly profane, and not a few are intemperate in their habits ; but, with all their rough and uncouth exterior, they are generous and frank to a fault. I have known one to pull olff his over- coat in a cold winter's day and give it to a sick passenger inside, while, at the same time, a *' broad- cloth gentleman " of the legal profession would not even give the sick man the hind seat of the coach, thus compelling him to ride on the middle seat, rather than give up an iota of his own comfort. I have known them to contribute their last dollar to a poor, unfortunate fellow-driver. The steam engine is fast monopolizing the place of the old stage coach. The engineer is now the hero of the road, and not the old-time stage driver. The stage coach has considerable country to the west of us to subdue to the empire of the engine ; but the time is coming when the last coach will make its last run, and the final stage driver will crack his whip and dismount for the last time. And having been one of the craft in the childhood of the stage coach in this country, I want to record my testimony to the noble-hearted- ness of the professional stage driver — a character RUNNING AWAY FROM HOME. 39 that many young people who read this book will never meet. They have received the cursfes of many polite gentlemen ; they deserve the blessings of thousands. The modern omnibus driver is not to be put alongside of the stage driver. He is a denizen of the city. The stage driver is a child of nature. The omnibus driver knows streets and avenues, and is often selfish and very vicious, con- tracting the habits of the metropolis. The stage driver has a few feelings for all men, especially his comrades and needy people, and can drive his load of precious freight from one point to another, with no human habitation to mark the road, the darkest night that ever was, with all the certainty of instinct. Of course, the time is coming, also, when the balloon pilot will take the place of the close- mouthed, keen -eyed, steady -handed, generous- hearted engine driver. But, as that time will not fall within the evening of my day, I leave it to some abler pen to record the virtues of the noble army of engineers. But, as the stage driver, like poor <poor minister after all. The next winter, I helped in special meetings with a number of churches. I was at Marion, assisting Pastor J. W. Osborn ; at Webster, assistmg Pastor Holt; then at Dansville, with Pastor Howell Smith ; at Parma, with Pastor T. H. Green, and at Rochester, with Pastor Howard. It was quite convenient to have the seminary so near as it was at Rochester. One of the students, Rev. J. G. Stevens, belonged to our church, and he 226 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. helped supply my pulpit. He was a choice spirit. He is now with God. The four years spent at Clifton were not all sunshine. Death had his work to do. He entered our circle at the parsonage ho^ie and took a dear boy, who sleeps in the new cemetery among the sugar maples. In the church and congi-egation, too, death came. The young wife of Mr. Hosmer, a lovely Christian lady, was taken. Miss Phidelia Harmon, a blooming girl, who had just graduated from the seminary at Albion, was called upon to take her place among the white-robed above. Sidney C. Hosmer, a young man of much promise to the church and his dear family, left us for scenes of higher activity in God's great home. We could illy afford to lose any of these or of the others whom we might mention who were translated from the Church below to the Church triumphant. But the Master had need of them, and we had need of the discipline. It taught the younger portion of the church many good lessons to lose for time so many of their associates. MARION. 227 CHAPTER XVn. MARION. ^URING the fall of this year, 1855, the church J-^ at Marion, Wayne county, New York, had parted with their pastor, Rev. J. W. Osborn, with whom I had held a meeting two years before. They at once desired me to consider a call to the pastorate. I had miso^ivino^s about settlino^ with a church for whom I had previously labored in a protracted meeting, for the reasons that the sermons preached during such efforts are generally on a higher key than ordinary pastoral preaching. I intimated this to the committee. But they said it had already been taken into the account by the church, So I accepted, and as soon as I could resign and make due arrangements, I left my Clifton field and settled among them. I found them a warm-hearted people, liberal and zealous in every good word and work, and, more- over, quite careful about their pastor's necessities. 228 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. We had come into the place late in the fall, and saw at once that little aggressive work could he done that season for the souls of the impenitent. The Congregational and Methodist churches had united and sent for an evangelist to conduct their union meetings. I was invited to come in and do the "police" work in the camp, while the brother evangelist should have command of the rank and file. Just at this time, I received a telegraphic dispatch — telegrams had not come into fashion then — from the Rev. C. C. Norton, pastor of the Sixth-street Baptist church in New York City, to come to his assistance at once, as a great work of the Spirit had begun in his church. I started that day. "The King's business requires haste." I was absent in the city seven weeks, and on my return found the union meeting yet in progress, but not a soul had been converted. The evangelist had become discouraged and left the place. The two pastors were still trying to push the battle to the gates of the enemy. But in their onsets, they spent most of their ammunition in attacking the Baptist stronghold. So apparent was this, that my people had retired from the field in good order. I called the day of my return at a store, and there met the MAEION-. 229 two co-laboring, co-fighting pastors. The merchant, an old man, was an infidel. He had lived in the town about forty years, and had been acquainted with its history from the beginning. As we three stood by the stove, he said : "Well, gents, I am glad to see you all here together. I want to give you my advice — it's free ; and it's this : give up your meetings to the Baptists. I have been here forty years, and in all that time all the revivals have been held by them. Others have tried, but have come out just as you have. The Elder has got home, and he's an old war-horse. Let the Baptists have the field. That's all ; now do as you please, gents." That afternoon, the two ministers called at my study, and wished to hold the meetings in the three churches, including the Baptist, rotating from one to the other. I replied that I did not think it best for me to go into any such arrangement. "But," I added, "when you get through with your efibrt, if my people think it best, we may hold a few extra meetings." They then proposed that our church take the meeting on Sunday night. To this I consented, on condition that I was to have the control of it without "let or hindrance." They 230 FKOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. consented. So, on Sunday evening all came to the Baptist church. I had asked the Methodist Episcopal minister to preach. He took for his text II Samuel iv. 4, and went on for awhile like the man in the Bible, lame in both his feet, not forgetting to make a few thi'usts at the Baptists, and then said amen ; and we all said amen and amen. Monday evening, Eev. E. F. Crane, my successor at Clifton, came to my help. As he entered the meeting-house he commenced to sing, a thing he could do as few can. In the course of a few weeks, over one hundred were saved in Christ. Brother Crane staid with me in all five weeks. When he left for home, eighty-four had united with the church. As soon as the converts began to follow Jesus in the first ordinance of His house, these two loving, "liberal" clergymen were attacked with sectarian "fits," or rather hydrophobia — madness at the sight of "much water." The Congregational minister had to employ the "Christian" minister to baptize a lady who wished to join his church, but insisted on being baptized and not sprinkled, the follower of Jesus declaring that he would not "go into the water." It was suggested by some one MARION. 231 "that it would bring on a spasm." It would seem as though Christ must have made a great mistake in one of His ordinances ! The church in Marion, with all their good habits, had one bad one. They would come late to meeting. The morning services were at half-past ten o'clock. They had a good bell, and it was punctual in its bland tones in calling them to the house of prayer. Most of the congregation were punctual enough ; but there were a few who were forever dropping in all through the worship. I expostulated. No good. Late attendance was a part of their practical piety. At length I tried this expedient : I took a text from Ezekiel ix. 3 : "And he called to the man clothed with linen which had the writer's ink horn by his side." I had gone on for five or ten minutes, and in came Brother E. and his wife and two daughters. I stopped until they had taken their seats and then quoted the text, "And he called to the man clothed with linen which had the writer's ink horn by his side ;" and added, "We have proceeded some way in our subject, and have repeated the text for the benefit of brother E. and his family." All looked at them, but they looked down. On we went again, and in a few minutes 232 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. more, in came brother S. and his wife. We stood still till all was quiet, and then repeated the text : "And he called to the man clothed with linen, which had the writer's ink horn by his side," and then said : "For the instruction of brother S. and his wife, we will say that the subject is thus far advanced, and we will repeat what we have gone over for your benefit." Again we proceeded, when in came brother J., who heard all about the "ink horn" and all the preceding part of the sermon. We persevered up to the seventh or eighth straggler, emptying the ink horn upon the head of each. It was an effectual antidote. One thing to the credit of this town : they have had no grog shop in it for over thirty years ; those who would get drunk had to go so far for the stuff, that as a rule, they got sober before reaching home. In the village is a fine collegiate institute of high order, under Baptist control, and largely patronized. The church has sent out a goodly number of minis- ters who were converted and reared there. Rev. J. H. Morrison, and Rev. H. J. Eddy, D. D., are among the number. During this year, I visited my children and other relatives in Michigan, Illinois, Wisconsin and Minne- sota. While on my journey, I fell in with an old MARION. 233 friend who perpetrated a sell on me and others in the cars. It is generally a religious duty to tell a good joke. It was about the time that Blondin, the rope walker, was exciting the country with his exploits at Niagara. This friend and companion told the pass- engers, ^while I was absent in another car, that I was Blondin. When I returned, I was much annoyed by people flocking about my seat, and staring at me with an uncommon gaze. I was so much annoyed by it that I went into another car. But in a few minutes in they came like so many harjpies, filling up every vacant seat and even the passage-way, gaping at me in the same unacconntable way. At length an old couple came in and took a seat in front of me. No sooner were they seated than the old lady, turning around and raising her spectacles, peered into my face and said : " Where are you going to perform next?" "I am going to Chicago, madam," I replied. "Is you going to walk the rope there? If ye du, we am bound to see ye du it." " Walk a rope? Why, what do you suppose I am? I do not understand you." "Why, ain't you that feller what's bin crossing Niagara river on a rope so many times?" "No! Who said I was?" "Why, we heard of it all along back in these 'ere cars ever so 234 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. many times, and we kind o' wanted to see you, ef you was the feller. Hope you arn't ashamed of it?" I saw the sell^ and went back to my old seat in the other car, where I found my friend shaking like a man with the palsy, his face covered with a newspaper. We stopped that night at Detroit. The next day, taking an early train for Chicago, while my friend was in the smoking car, I asked a young gentleman near me if the Hon. Stephen A. Douglas would make a speech anywhere on the way to Chicago? "Is he on the train?" asked a number of voices at once. "Well, that gentleman in the smoking car looks like him," I intimated. Off to the smoking car went two or three in hot haste, and soon retm-ned, scattering the news like wild-fire that Hon. S. A. Douglas was on board, returning from the Senate. Others went and looked. One or two said it was not Douglas, but others were quite confident that it was ; they knew him like a book. The resemblance was quite striking. We were to take dinner at Marshal, and arrange- ments had been made among the passengers to call him out for a speech. Lest I should be identified in the matter, I had gone and laid down in a vacant MAKION. 235 seat, getting up just in time to be prepared for the dinner. As the train neared the station, a big lusty fellow jumped out upon the platform, as soon as the train slackened up, and cried out at the top of his big voice, "Fellow-citizens, ladies and gentle- men, I propose three cheers for Hon. Stephen A. Douglas, of Illinois. Hip, hip, hurrah !" Our stout, short friend pressed his way to the wash-room, followed by the multitude, crying, "A speech ! a speech ! Come, now, give us a five minutes' speech." He rushed into the wash-room and looked at me, shaking his head in a significant manner, "Sold out, Blondin; I will pay for the dinner." His Chicago friends heard of it, and used to address him as "Honorable." 236 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. CHAPTER XVm. RACINE. T ATE in the fall of 1857, I received an invi- -L^ tation to visit the church at Racine, Wisconsin, having the year previous spent a Lord's day there while on a visit among friends in that city. Having consented to do so, I closed my connection with the church at Marion, and on Christmas day arrived in Racine. After a few weeks' stay among them, they extended me a call to the pastorate. I had already found out that the church and society were in quite a divided state. The previous pastor was a resident hi the city, and had a large social influence in the church and community. He had been pastor there about six years, and as in all cases, he had his special admirers ; also those wh o were not well pleased with him, his administration and manner of preaching. This being the condition of things, he had resigned. I saw chat a new pastor would have RAcmE. 237 a hard time of it, and so deferred an answer to their invitation. But I consented to stay two or three months as a supply, giving the church a fair oppor- tunity to become acquainted with me, and me an equal opportunity of finding them out, and of satisfying myself as to my duty in the case. After the holidays were over, there were evident tokens of good manifest in the church, by the Spirit's reviving the members to a closer attachment to the Master. Mutual concessions were made, and the impenitent were being stirred up to think upon their ways. Soon the city was paying more atten- tion to religious matters than had been the case for a louoj time. I beojan to think that the old animosities and scandal had been absorbed in the precious revival tide that seemed about to sweep over the city. It looked as if we should have a free coast and a fair breeze. But in this we were sadly mis- taken. The time Ave had set for deciding the question of the call had come, and that right in the bloom of the revival mterest. So by the earnest solicitation of friends we gave an affirmative answer, and in April went East for my family. Rev. N. F. Ravlin supplying the pulpit. On my return I went to work in all good faith, supposmg that everythmg 238 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. was amicably settled. But as soon as the ardent spirit that manifested itself in the winter began to subside, the old scandals were revived and circulated with more vim than ever, if possible. I thought it my duty to have some of the common reports about prominent members investigated. But others thought the better way was to let it all alone, and it would cure itself in time. I have not changed my mind on the subject since. At a "packed meeting," the question was agitated whether the pastor should be sustained in his puri- fying process in the church, and a small majority voted that the scandals should be let alone. The next evening I was informed of the decision, and at once resigned. A large number of the church were dissatisfied, aud in a few days called for letters to organize a new church, to be called the "Harmony Baptist Church of Racine." It was organized with fifty-two members, and procured a hall in which to worship. The E-ev. N. Barrel was chosen pastor. I was at this time really unable to preach, owing to loss of voice occasioned by the lake winds. I was advised by the physicians to remove from the lake shore. Accordingly I went to Sparta, a small village between bluffs, in the western part of the RACINE. 239 State. Here I found a small Baptist churcli des- titute of a pastor, and much depressed in spirit. The landlady at the hotel informed me where one of the deacons lived, and I called on him. He proved to be an old acquaintance of mine from New York. He at once suggested the appointment of a meeting. I tried to plead off on account of my health, but he insisted, and the appointment was made. Without going into all the details, I staid in Sparta seven weeks, and preached every day and evening ! The Lord worked wonders in the midst of the people. I baptized eighty-two, making a clean sweep in some families — merchants, mechanics, farmers, aged and youth. I returned at the end of seven weeks, much improved by my residence away from the lake shore. About this time, Mr. Goble, the missionary to Japan, returned to this country, and I volunteered to assist him and the Free Mission Society in raising a fund for his outfit, that he might return to that needy missionary field. In Wisconsin, and in spite of my feebleness of health, I raised nearly fifteen hundred dollars ; and then went to New York State, to present the same cause to the churches. 240 FEOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. CHAPTEK XIX. RE-SETTLEMENT AT WARSAW. IN the course of my rounds, I stopped at Warsaw, where I had labored with such delightful harmony seventeen years before. As a result of this transient visit, the church gave me a call to re-settle with them as pastor. After duly considering the question — for a re-settlement is a more difficult question to decide than a first settlement — I consented. This was in 1859. I found the church in an altogether different state from the one they were in when I left them for Wheatland, in 1844. But few of the old members remained, and the church was rent with unhappy dissensions, that had greatly weakened their strength and disheartened their spirit. Yet there were a number of old, staunch friends of the cause, who were unmoved by the adverse influences about them. All the ministers in the Association had been removed, either by death or settlement RE-SETTLEMENT AT WARSAW. 241 elsewhere, except Rev. H. B. Ewell, of Pavilion. He still "staid by the stuff;" though as pastor of that church, but little could be done, except to "strengthen the things that remained." The year following was one of alternate fear and hope. I spent the winter in laboring with the pastors at Wyoming, at Elmira, at Brockport, at LaGrange. At Wyoming, Brother A. A. Russell was pastor. This church had often received and enjoyed the Divine Presence in the salvation of souls. At Elmira, Rev. E. F. Crane was pastor ; at Brockport, Brother E. Nisbet ; and at LaGrange, Brother L. Brasted. In the midst of these revival influences, the mutterings of civil war were heard in the distance, which turned the attention of the whole community in a new channel. My second pastorate at Warsaw was not long, and was much broken into by the evangelistic labors mentioned. Still, I trust something was done in the year I was with them at this time. 242 FROiM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT, CHAPTER XX, LAGEANGE — THE WAB. /TV HE church at LaGrange had invited me to -L become their pastor, and in April I was settled with them in that capacity. No sooner had I got fairly at work, than the call of President Lincoln came over the wires for seventy-five thousand men to defend the country in its hom^ of peril. I at once wrote to two sons we had living in Minnesota to enlist in their country's service, urging upon them the importance of the sacrifice, and stirring their patriotism by reminding them of the Revolu- tionary heroes. The younger son had already enlisted, and was at Fort Snelling when the letter reached him. The elder had a family, and hesitated for a time, but afterwards entered the service, and was with Gren. Sherman in his march to the sea. He received a wound and came home to die shortly afterwards, leaving a widow with three little children. I expected my younger son had fallen LAGRANGE THE WAR. 243 with the multitude of others in the Bull Kun blunder and disaster ; and, although I was then at the somewhat advanced age of fifty-seven, I had resolved to take the place of my fallen boy, if the Government would accept my poor person. I wrote to the Hon. Mr. Rice, M. C. from Minnesota, asking if it was a fact that my son was killed, and telling him my determination in case he was. He showed the letter to some friend, and the War Depart- ment at once sent me recruiting orders to raise a company of cavalry in Wyoming and Genesee counties. I laid this proposition before the church where I had so recently settled. They gave their consent with a hearty good will, voting to let my family remain in the parsonage and to furnish them with a living the remainder of the year. Twenty- seven in the community enlisted in one week, many of them my own members and personal friends ; and in fifteen days I had enrolled over three hundred. We went into camp at Westfield, where the regiment was completed and afterwards mustered into the service. My men were divided up into one full company, of which I was elected captain, and part of two companies, of one of which W. G. Bentley was elected captain, and the rest went into 244 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. a company of which Capt. Tozer had command. In a few days we were transferred to Washington, where we went into winter quarters. On our way to the seat of war, our regiment stopped for one or two weeks in Albany. While there, Rev. E. L. Magoon, D. D., presented me with a cavalry sabre, supposed to be of genuine Damascus steel, that had been in service in Oliver Cromwell's day. Its scabbard had long since been lost. It was presented on Sabbath evening in the First church, of which he was then pastor. The large audience-room was crowded in every part, my company occupying the front center pews. The Doctor made a thrilling speech, as he very well kaows how to. I wish it was in print. The next Sunday evening, I made an address in the Pearl-street church, on the subject of Bible Distribution, at a meeting of the A. and F. B. Society. The Baptists of Albany were sound to the core on the war question. We left the next Tuesday for the jfront, having received our commissions, uniforms for the men, and for the first time we went into camp in tents in Washington. To sleep on the ground under canvas, to eat without a table, made a few hang their lips and look a little watery about the eyes. It began LAGEANGE THE WAR. 245 to look a little like war, and yet we had not seen blood, nor smelt gunpowder. This first night in Washington was an exception during our stay, for we soon had things in comfortable shape ; our tents were pitched in order and looked like a village ; we extemporized tables and chairs, and had little sheet- iron stoves. Our provision was abundant, and, as a general rule, good : beef, pork, sugar, cofi'ee, tea, rice and potatoes twice a week, and first-class bread all the time. We were a happy family of men for being away from home. Our chaplain had not yet come, so I occupied his place by the request of the oflScers of the staff. Respect and reverence, at least outward, were shown for religion by officers and men. In a month or six weeks our chaplain arrived, and I went to his tent at my earliest convenience to bid him a hearty welcome, and to say that I had acted as volunteer chaplain in his absence. I found him quite pleasant, and assured him that anything I could do to keep him in his position would be a pleasure for me. The next day was inspection. Out he came, mounted on a fine horse, with his orderly carrying his Bible and hymn book. The boys thought this was preparing rather loftily to preach the Gospel. 246 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. Inspection was about ten o'clock in the morning. At eleven, the religious services would occur. We had a full band, the most of them being Christian men, and had up to this time done honor to them- selves in aiding the worship. At the time appointed, they were in their places and played "Old Hundred" in fine strains, and then out came the chaplain, mounted, and with his orderly bringing his Bible. The congregation, rank and file, was about four hundred, including the colonel, lieutenant-colonel and, I think, all the line officers. His text was, "Endure hardness as good soldiers of Jesus Christ;" and than gave the officers what the boys called "Hail Columbia;" expressed what he should expect of them, and what they might expect of him. He then talked to the men as though they were a mean, profane set of rowdies, closing up his introductory sermon by calling on me to pray. I felt like saying : ''Good Lord, deliver us!" but I didn't, out loud. The colonel in going to his quarters, said : "Well, if ever I hear him again, it will be because he can run faster than I can." The next Sabbath was a fine day, and all at service, of rank and file and all, was about eighty; the next Sabbath, only fifteen. This was the last gathering of the regiment to hear him. The men would not come out. LAGRANGE — THE WAR. 247 In March 1862, we were ordered to march to Yorktown. We left camp in the midst of a rain and snow storm. By order of the colonel, I was to have command of the camp and the sick of the regiment, he also leaving in my care the commissary stores. We then had about two hundred disabled men, the measles having had quite a march through our camp. I was ordered to muster out of service all disabled men, pronounced unfit for service by the surgeon, and to return to the Department all stores on hand. I found I had a job on my hands. Every man who had the ear-ache or a sore toe wanted to go home. Some were really sick, and would be of no service. Others were home-sick^ and nothing could cure them but the sight of mother, wife or sweetheart. So, we took them in squads, day after day, to the War Department to be examined, and if really unfit for the service, to be discharged. It was amusing, not to say anything else, to see how lame some of them were as we started for the city, about two miles and-a-half off. Some of them had provided themselves with crutches for the occasion, who the day before could run and jump. K mustered out, they would send back their crutches to camp for the next squad. 248 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. lu about four weeks I was relieved of this disagreeable command, and took such of the number as were considered able-bodied, and started for Yorktown, down the Potomac. There were many amusing incidents m the mustering-out business, previous to our departure. In the office, the mus- tering-out officer was a strong Catholic, a Captain , a most profane swearer, and always indulging his profane tongue. On one or two occasions I had gently reproved him, citing him to the regulations of the army on the subject, being positively for- bidden by war-department law. During one of these little interviews, a gentleman of my acquaint- ance came in and addi-essedme as "Elder Stimson." "Why," said the captain, "what are you Elder of?" My friend replied, "He is a minister of the Baptist Church, and highly thought of. I have known him as such for twenty-five years." To which the captain replied : "Oh, what a pity ! you ought to be a good Catholic, and have your sins pardoned every day, as we do." "Yes," said I, "and then swear all the rest of the time, and get drunk and fight, mixing up in all the brawls in the whisky shops." He never tried again to convert me to the "Ao?y Catholic Church. As we were ready to march to Yorktown, a young LAGRANGE — THE WAR. 249 Captain Doolittle, son of Hon. J. K. Doolittle of Wisconsin, was standing with me at the door of the mansion where we had taken breakfast, when his father said to him: "Well, my son, be faithful to your duty and your country. If you fall at York- town, be buried there. It's sacred ground ; made so by the army of the Revolution and by the presence of Washington who defeated the British." Old Senator Preston King was standing by, and with a twinkle of the eye, said : "Yes, Henry, if you find yourself dead, tell them ycfur father wanted you buried there." This remark changed all the faces of the bystanders. This son of Senator Doolittle was a noble specimen of a young man. A graduate of a New England college, he had given some attention to military drill, and had been commissioned captain of cavalry by President Lincoln, by special order. He had just been appointed on Gen. Schuyler Hamilton's staff, and was going down to take his place. Gen. Hamilton and his staff were ordered to the "Army of the Cumberland," where Capt. Doolittle was taken sick, and from which he came home to die, respected and beloved by all who knew him. While we were encamped at Washington, during 250 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT* the winter of 1861-1862, the greater part of our time was spent in drill in the cavalry tactics. Our colonel was detailed on a long and difficult case of court martial, so that the command devolved on the lieutenant colonel, an ambitious and austere upstart who had only a smattering of military science, and was very severely afflicted with the disease prevalent sometimes out of camp as well as in, known as ** big-head." In his case it assumed a malignant type. I had been for a long time detailed on another branch of duty, and had not been as much drilled in marching as I thought I ought to be. So I got excused by the colonel and went into the drill of marching with the other officers of the regiment, under the instruction of our young lieutenant colonel, who "magnified" his office as much as ever a "onct- a-month" preacher did by "holding on" two mortal hours at a time ; or ever a new-fledged deacon did by giving his elderly pastor advice as to the best method of preaching, showing him a more excellent way. As I came out of my tent one day to fall into line, with my cavalry boots all polished up, one of the officers said, "Well, Captain, you look as nice as a new pin — boots all shining and white gloves on. The gloves may possibly come back all right, but LAGRANGE THE WAR. 251 those boots won't, after Lieut. H nas marched you through a few puddles, as he marches us every day. I'll bet you will be willing to make an affi- davit, when we come back, that the boots are made of Maryland clay, and that you will never put them on again." Our parade ground was ornamented with a number of little sink holes. I repKed, "Perhaps he will march me thi'ough mud holes, but I think not, if I can get around them, and I think I can. On we went to the parade ground, marching and counter-marching for an hour or two. Finally we were all formed into line in the form of a pla- toon, and after "front dress," "guide right," the command came, "march." After we had marched twenty or thirty rods, I saw right in front of me, one of those puddles. I said to the captain at my side, "File to your left when we get to that mud- hole." When we came to it we filed off to right and left. Just as we were in this harmless act of self- defense — at least boot defense — the lieutenant saw us being a little out of order, and cried out, "Steady, steady, there ! Close up, close up ! What kind of a movement is that?" Our line was again soon formed, and on we marched to our quarters. We were halted at his tent and formed into a semi-circle, 252 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. as was his formal custom, to be dismissed, when he complimented the officers for the improvement they were making in marching. He also added, "As to Captain Stimson, if at any time he comes to a mud- hole and thinks he can't go through it, if he will just speak to me, I will take him on my back and carry him over." I doffed my hat and said, smiling, "Thank you, Lieutenant Colonel, I have one objec- tion to that. We were promised horses to ride, when we enlisted, and I should be ashamed to be seen mounted on a jackass." All the officers threw up their caps and cheered most lustily for the "old captain.** Did I say all the officers? I think the lieutenant did not. In 1869 I met the colonel in Troy, New York. After making a few customary inquiries, and finding that I was then living in Kansas, he asked, "Do you ride a jackass out in that country?" I replied, "Not much." But to return to our embarking at Washington for Yorktown. We embarked at Alexandria on board the old "North Kiver" boat the "Knicker- bocker." It was crowded to its utmost capacity. We stopped opposite Mount Yernon, and had an opportunity to visit the tomb of Washington. The next morning we found ourselves at anchor at a LAGRANGE THE WAR. 253 place called Saint Mary's, the wind blowing a gale. The commander of the boat dare not enter Chesa- peake Bay at the time, as the vessel was not equal to a heavy sea. So we practiced patience forty- eight hours, waiting for the wind to go down. The first day passed pleasantly enough, especially as the colored people brought fresh plump oysters aboard and sold them for twenty-five cents a bushel. But the next day the bread and butter part of our rations was almost minus. The darkies did the best they could to relieve our wants by peddling "hoe cakes." But cold "hoe cakes" and no butter were hardly atoned for by oysters at twenty-five cents a bushel. The decks and walks of that old boat were covered from stem to stern with oyster shells, and still we were not satisfied. The Captain was better contented, as the Government was paying him seven hundred dollars a day for his boat. He looked as though he didn't care how long we lay there. It's astonishing how patient some men are, and also what an intimate connection there is between money and the exercise of this virtue of patience ! Job is certainly deserving of the dis- tinction of the "patientest man," in vievr of the sudden loss of his great property. It's a crowning 254 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. virtue to "take joyfully the spoiling of our goods." This loss tests the nerves that connect with patience, sooner than does the loss of friends. Poor people, who have conquered themselves so as to be habit- ually patient, have attained to the distinction of sainthood in the true sense. On this trip, no one officer had command of all the men. They were in squads of from twenty to one hundred. Some were new recruits from New York and Brooklyn, and belonged to the class of "hard cases" in a metropolitan sense. A young man in command of them would have about as much control over them as a child would have in conducting a tribe of Comanche Indians on a buffalo hunt. Sunday morning came and found us in this sad plight : card playing, the singing of vulgar songs, dancing, swearing — ever}i;hing that was disgraceful and mean in the eyes of an American citizen. The few officers there were of us called a meeting in a side place, and proposed to have order on board in some shape. It was then proposed to appouit an officer of the day, whose duty it should be to see that things were set to rights and order restored. A suggestion was also made to have religious services at eleven o'clock. Captain LAGRANGE THE WAR. 255 H. Doolittle was appointed "officer of the day," with two assistants ; and we agreed to sustain the captain in his command. The captain put on the red sash prescribed in the army regulations, and putting on his sword walked out on the deck, and in a loud and commanding voice said : "Attention, soldiers !" All eyes were turned to see where the voice came from and who it was who spoke with accustomed authority. "It is ordered and commanded that all loud talking and all playing now cease, and that this boat now be cleaned up. At eleven o'clock we will have chapel services conducted by Captain H. K. Stimson, of the Ninth New York Cavalry ; and for this purpose, I appoint Lieutenant F. and Lieutenant B. to take charge of the upper deck, and Captain M. and Sergeant V. to take command of the cabin. These officers will detail a force sufficient to see this order carried out." The appointment of these subordinate officers was all arranged beforehand, they being present at the council meeting in the corner. Soon, men were busy at work clearing up the ship, and Captain Doolittle walked the deck and through the cabin with as much dignity as General Winfield Scott. A few of the New York roughs attempted to let off some of their extra steam by 256 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. making a uoise, but a prompt intimation from Captain Doolittle that the first man who disobeyed the order would be put in irons, made them as still as mice. At eleven o'clock, as many as wished came into the main cabin, and I talked to them a little while from the words, "Contend earnestly for the faith once delivered to the saints." The day passed off with less turmoil than we had anticipated in the morning. When we got to "Shipping Point," where we disembarked, the green lieutenant from Brooklyn was much disturbed when he found out about the authority we had been assuming for the sake of order on board the boat. But it was too late to make any fuss about it. We justified ourselves on the ground of military necessity ! The next Tuesday, we joined our several commands at Yorktown. After we landed at "Shipping Point," we were invited on board the "K. S. Spaulding," an iron Government steamer, the head-quarters of Gen. Slocum. Here we remained two days, waiting for an escort to protect us in marching to the Union army, as the rebel scouts infested the wilderness between this landing and Yorktown. While staying here, I had a good chance of seeing the workings LAGRANGE THE WAR. 257 of the war system. Professing to have some regard to honesty and fair dealing, I was not a little shocked at some things I witnessed. Near by where we lay at anchor, was a cove made from the river, in which was a large bed of oysters, containing about four acres, owned by a rebel farmer, the main source of his support for a numerous family. Our troops had waded into the water, and by feeling with the bare feet, had robbed the poor rebel of all his oysters next to the shore ; and when these were all exhausted, had gone to the old man, hearing that he had two or three oyster boats hid away in his garret, and proposed to buy them at a very high price. The purchase money was some counterfeit rebel currency that a Yankee, indeed, had manufactured for such emergencies, and which could be bought at wholesale for about twenty-five cents a ten-dollar bill. It was well executed, and none but an expert could tell the difference between the two counterfeits — the coun- terfeit proper and the "counterfeit" of which this was a counterfeit. There was quite a trade carried on by way of disposing of this false scrip. With this worthless imitation of a worthless currency, the poor farmer was paid for his boats. In these, 258 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. the soldiers launched out into the deep portions of the cove, and "hooked" all the rest of the oysters, stripping the old man of all his dependence for a living, and robbing him of his boats besides. We called at his house and heard his story, and saw the counterfeit currency with which he had been plundered. It was sad to sit and listen to his tale of sorrow. His wife was from one of the "F. F. V.'s," and was wrought up to good fighting condition while the old gentleman related the facts of the swindle and pillage. She wished all sorts of iUs on the "confounded Yankees." If she had the power, she would "po^on the whole race of them, and let them lie on top of the ground to feed the turkey buzzards." I said I hoped she wouldn't do it. That this act was contrary to General McClellan's order I assured her ; and that they ought to have taken a receipt for the oysters, and at some future day the United States Government would have paid the bill. This so exasperated the old lady, that I acted at once on the maxim that prudence is the better part of valor, and left the house, bidding them good-day. We found that that system of "pro- tection" did not work to suij the rebels, or to LAGRANGE — THE WAR. 259 the securing of obedience on the part of the federal army. We had a similar case at Yorktown, within two miles of Gen. McClellan's head-quarters. Near our camp was the large plantation of an old Virginia gentleman, who owned some twenty-five slaves, all connected by blood or marriage. The old man was a staunch Confederate, and had two sons in the Southern service as officers. Being only three miles from Yorktown, he had applied for protection from "vandalism" by our men. A guard was detailed every day for that purpose, consisting of six men. The thing was looked upon as a very desirable duty on the part of the soldiers. So that, at nine o'clock in the morning, when the detail left for the plantation, there was quite a strife to see who should be selected. I had a boy who acted as cook and table waiter. When it came my turn to be officer of the day, he came and said he desired to be detailed to serve on the guard at the plantation. I consented, and Orderly Sergeant Strong so appointed him. As he was leaving for his post, I asked him why he wished to be appointed to go and stay there twenty-four hours. "Well, Captain, we can get hoe cake and 260 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. milk and other nice things there, and then we can instruct them darkies in some useful lessons for their benefit." He at once fell into line and marched off. The next morning, the old planter came into camp with a sorry face, and made complaint to the colonel that eight of his slaves had run away the night before ; and he wanted the colonel to order a larger guard for that day. It so happened that our colonel did not think very highly of ^^ abolition." He did not come into the army to fight for "niggers," but for the "Constitution." But he was willing to fight for the "niggers" in the sense of their appre- hension and return to slave-owners. So, he ordered the guard doubled. But the next day, back came the old planter, with the complaint that nine more of his "chattels" had departed, leaving only an old man and woman, the parents and grandparents of six little children, on his hands to be supported. The colonel heard his doleful complaint, and sent for me. As I came into his tent, he said : "Captain, what does this mean? This gentleman says his servants have run away. Do you know anything about it?" I replied: "I am not officer of the day. I was yesterday. How should I know LAGilANGE — THE WAR. 261 anything about it?" The colonel, turning to the planter, said: "Well, old man, we can't keep niggers from running away, as long as General Wool is harboring them at Fortress Monroe. the black cusses ; the sooner you are rid of them, the better it will be for you." "Oh, no !" said the planter; "they are my main dependence. Who can ever do our labor for us?" "Set your rebel sons at work. It will do them good, and be much better for them than to be in the fort at Yorktown in this rebellion." The old "F. F. V." planter left the camp without saying, "Good morning, sir." The colonel ordered the officer of the day to recall the guard, and let the "rebs" take care of themselves and their "nicrorers."' It remains to be said that, in less than eight-and- forty hours the old man's barn couldn't boast a board or his fence a picket. And it was said by the boys, that his hen-roost was as silent as a graveyard. This closed up our guarding of rebel property. The whole talk was that a great and terrible fight was about to come off, and that at least 30,000 lives must be sacrificed on our side, not to speak of the rebel loss. The wide circulation and deepening of 262 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT this horrible expectation, and the prevalence of typhoid fever, which was carrying off the men by hundreds and thousands, had then a most depressing effect on the courage of our troops. Everything looked dark and threatening to them. General McClellan was the "Napoleon," the chief captain of the American army. To lisp a word against McClellan, was a high crime and misde- meanor. The officer who dared breathe a breath of suspicion that he was not the greatest of generals, was ordered to report at the War Department at Washington, as was the case with Gen. Hamilton, and others. This idolization of Gen. McClellan, for a time was an American mania, and will form an interesting, as well as sad chapter in the future reliable history of the great conflict, that will not be written while the generation of men now livmg remains. In our opinion, he attained a greater and more sudden reputation, and on a smaller capital, than any other man ever has on the American conti- nent. The point of space he will occupy on the page of permanent history will be exceedingly fine. The order was for us to keep at work building causeways, so as to make an easy way for retreat, in case of battle. Thus things went on for a long tune, LAGRANGE — THE WAR. 263 till one day Mr. Lowe went up in his balloon, accom- panied with Gen. Stoneman, to take an observation of the fort at Yorktown. They had ascended about five hundred feet, when the rebels threw a small shell in nearly a line shot at the balloon, bm-sting within a short distance of it. This was on Friday, about four o'clock, p. M. Sunday morning at sun- rise, the news was in cu-culation that Gen. Magruder was vacating the fort at Yorktown, and all must be in preparation for marching orders at the shortest notice. We need not detain the reader in describing what followed. Two days afterwards, a part of Joe Johnson's division of the rebel forces were overtaken at Williamsburgh, Va., and another small conflict occurred at West Point. These were only preludes to the great "Retreat" of McClellan to Harrison's Landing ; a military maneuver that well entitles its author to the distinction of the "Great Retreater." If he had only turned "right about face," and made provision as rapidly for hacking down into the rebel country, he might have anticipated Sherman in his march to the sea, by at least two years. He never ought to have fought with his face to the enemy. Those in front of him had nothing to fear. He was dangerous only to those in his rear, as the Union 264 FEOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. cause can abundantly testify. What a pity that the Government did not understand his tactics, and insist on his setting out on a march to the North ! But then it's the fate of great men to be misunderstood. Where is General George B. McClellan? The fact was that the Ninth New York Calvary had not, up to this time, been fully mounted or equipped. An effort had been made the winter previous to disorganize all the mounted troops in the army. Senator Nesmith, of California, had made a long and discouraging speech on mounted soldiers, including more ridicule than argument. Senator Sprague of Rhode Island, wanted a larger amount of artillery. These mere politicians desired to give shape to the warfare according to their "parlor" ideas. As though they knew an3rthing of how the campaign ought to be waged ! That our cause succeeded in spite of such advocates and some such generals, is a proof beyond question that it was on the side of humanity and right. The leading, prac- tical men wanted a larger force of mounted soldiers. But at this early day of the war, politicians not only constantly interfered with, but positively controlled the military movements of the men who were tiredly waiting to redeem their country from I LAGRANGE THE WAR. 265 its thralldom. It was not a little amusing, as well as a good deal provoking, to sit in the galleries of the Senate and see what strategy and prowess these brave political heroes evinced, and with what dis- patch they were going to subdue the rebellion and make "secession" bite the dust. It often made me think of that brave command that "marched up the hill, and then marched down again." These would- be "leaders" had more to do with keeping the cavalry from being mounted, and with depriving the country for a long time of the valuable aid this important arm of the service could render, than all other persons and causes put together. Of course they had in the field certain officers who were their tools. Thus the military field and the political field were co-operative in a very ridiculous, if it were not so sad a sense. The purpose of some of these "loyal" men may be discovered yet, now that the discovery will do no good. Eflbrts were continually made to induce the cavalry regiment to disband and enter the infantry service. I knew of one fine cavahy regiment, the Seventh New York, called the "Black Horse Cavalry," from Troy, that was disbanded at the beginning of the war. But our men disdained to be disbanded, 266 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. and insisted on being mounted and equipped. They found out that they could not be forced into any other arm of the service against their will. Another fact most patent and injurious in its influence on the spirits and discipline of the men, was the compar- ative ignorance of both the colonel and lieutenant- colonel, of cavalry tactics. They cut a ridiculous figure on horseback. Of course they owed their promotions to political wire-pulling. So, when we went down to Yorktown, our men consented to be armed with Austrian rifles and go as an escort to Gen. Hunter's park of artillery. When we arrived at Yorktown, the men concluded that they had finished their mission as an escort, and laid down their arms, fully resolved not to take them up, but to hold themselves ready any moment to be mounted and equipped as cavalry. In this condition of things they remained at Yorktown without drill, the most of the staff officers using all their influence and intrigue to induce the men to be transferred to the infantry. At this juncture, I was sent to Baltimore with the wounded and prisoners from the battle of Williams- burgh, with liberty to go to Washington on a sick leave of absence for two weeks. It was also sug- LAGRANGE — THE WAR. 267 gested by all the line officers and a few of the staff, that while in Washington I should see Secretary Stanton about our regiment, if something couldn't be done to relieve us of the embarrassment in which we found ourselves in consequence of the deadening delay. After disposing of the wounded and pris- oners at Baltimore, I hastened to Washington. On reaching the War Department, Mr. Stanton informed me that at General McClellan*s request, the Ninth New York Cavalry were ordered to Albany to be mustered out of service for insubordination ! I was surprised, mortified, indignant, and righteously wrathy. I denied the charge then and there as utterly false. I told the honorable Secretary that the Ninth regiment was made up of the best class of volunteers the State of New York could boast. And I added, "If the country and its officials think we are not needed, we can well afford to go home. But if it is on the charge of insubordination that we are relieved, we can never go home to look in the face our wives, our children and our fellow-citizens. We enlisted as cavalry, and as such, we are willing to remain in the service of the Government, and "fight it out to the bitter end," but we do protest against being transferred into the infantry, and thus break up our organization as cavalry." 268 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. "Well, Captaiu Stimson, you better go to Albany and see Governor E. D. Morgan. I will give you leave of absence, and a pass to Albany. If you start this evening, you can reach Albany to-morrow by noon." "Thank you, Mr. Secretary." He ordered my pass made out, and I called on two of our members of Congress, Hon. A. Frank and Hon. R. E. Pent on, who gave me letters of intro- duction to Governor Morgan. The next day at ten o'clock a. m., I was in Albany and obtained an introduction to the Governor personally by an old friend, George Dawson, editor of the Evening Journal. I presented my pass and leave of absence, and at once made known the object of my business. He appeared as much surprised as I was on hearing it, and said, "I will telegraph at once to Mr. Lincoln. You call to-morrow morning at eleven and I will let you know the result." At the appointed hour I was admitted to the Governor's room, when he read me a copy of his telegram to Mr. Lincoln. It was as follows : "ilfr. Lincoln^ President of the United States: " Sir : I am informed by an officer of the Ninth regiment of New York cavalry that an order has LAGRANGE — THE WAR. 269 been issued by the War Department to muster out of the service said regiment. I hojpe and earnestly request that said order may be countermanded, and if the Government cannot mount and equip said troops, call on the State of New York, through its proper executive, and it shall be done. (Signed), E. D. Morgan, Governor of New York.'* Mr. Lincoln replied by telegram : "jB'. D, Morgan, Governor of the State of New York: "Sir : The order to muster out the Ninth regiment of New York cavalry is countermanded, and the regiment will be here soon, to be equipped and mounted at the earliest possible moment. (Signed), A. Lincoln." Characteristic. No red tape. Direct. Inde- pendent. Eminently sensible. Hearty. Lincoln had a clear head ; but he had also what, in the old Bible language, is called "bowels," a quality just as important as judgment, or justice. He was no petrified piece of last century's wisdom, having no interest in "personal matters," as Sumner once imperiously said of himself. Lincoln had a per- sonal interest in "personal matters," and did not 270 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. try to put himself above the Almighty, who cer- tainly interests Himself in "personal matters." My health at this time was much impaired, having had an attack of the typhoid fever while at Yorktown; and having a leave of absence of six weeks from duty, from the Secretary of War, I went home to see my family, then residing at LaGrange, New York. It was evident to my physician, at the end of my furlough, that I was not fit for active service. So he sent on to the Department a certificate of the facts, and I was granted a leave of absence for an indefinite time. Soon after this I was taken worse, and so continued for the next eighteen months. During the time, I sufiered a shock of paralysis in my entire right side, so disabling me as to prostrate my energies for the next two years, not permitting me to leave my house for that length of time, with one exception, and that to vote. I was taken in a carriage on a mattress to the polls, and returned to my dwelling to remain there all winter. The longest sickness in all my life. During this confinement and severe suffering, a few discontented persons, who had not been personally enriched or honored by the war as they LAGRANGE THE WAR. 271 had desired, commenced a series of mean acts, accompanied with meaner invective against me, the whole amounting to the crudest persecution, being at a time when I was wholly unable to defend myself or rebuke them. In making up my accounts in the- enlistment of my company, I had intrusted the keeping of the books to two men who had joined the company, who were evidently prompted by the lofty purpose of enriching them- selves out of the spoils of the war. It is believed by some that there were other individuals of the same tribe of human jackalls "in the service of their country." These two men, in company with a hotel-keeper who had quartered some of my men and the band of musicians I had employed during the time of enlistment, had conspired to have mie indicted before the grand jury of the United States Court holding its session at Buffalo. The deputy marshal called and made a service of the warrant on me. But I was unable to be moved, and so let the matter rest. These pretended patriotic gentlemen were not well suited with the leniency of the marshal who had served the warrant ; and so sent off to a distant part of the State and got their man, a perfect Nero, to do 272 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. their dirty, cruel work. He came into the place and stopped at the hotel above mentioned; and after getting well whisky ed-up, he got an old coop of a hack, and two rowdy assistants to help him secure his prey. Up they came to my residence, and bolted in with all the courage of grenadiers, as if to arrest some monster guilty of sedition and murder. With great pomp and show of authority, he made known the object of his visi- tation. I was in bed, where I had been for months. I was not dressed, and had not been for a long time. My wife and children were all amazement at this strange manner of address to a sick and, as they supposed, dying husband and father. They of course knew not what to say or do. I politely suggested that I would be glad to send into the village for friends to assist me. "No," he replied ; "I can give you all the assistance you need. I will have you in Albany to-morrow." My wife said : "Why, sir, the man is not able to be moved; he has not been out of his room for weeks. I would as soon think of moving a dead man." "Can't help it, madam ; he must go alive if he can, and if not, dead." So I was dressed and hurried into his rickety old hack, and driven to the depot. LAGKANGE — ^THE WAE. 273 At Batavia, we were obliged to wait three or four hours to make connection. The news was soon circulated that I was at the depot under arrest by the United States Marshal, and the people flocked in to see me and proposed to become bail for my appearance at Court. He said he did not know what the bail would be, and that he could not and would not consent. Neither would he allow me to go to a friend's house, near the depot, and stay while we were waiting for the train. "No, sir." A friend then asked him if he would furnish me with a sleeping-car berth? He said he could not do it. The friend then handed him the money to pay for a berth, and he took it in my presence. As soon as the train arrived, 1 was hurried into a crowded car, and seated with the marshal and two miserable drunken rowdies of the baser sort. I said, "Marshal, can't you get me a sleeping-car?" "When we get to Kochester, I may, possibly ; but I can't now." It was now past ten o'clock at night, and I was much exhausted by the fatigue of waiting so long and the excitement. At Rochester, he secured the berth. The night was cold, and I suffered all the way from the constant opening and shutting of the doors. A 274 FKOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. little after daylight, we arrived at Albany. He procured a carriage, and then asked me if I would like breakfast before he took me to prison. "Yes," I replied; "and I have friends in the city whom I would like to see." ^^ Friends! Who in are your friends here?" I replied, "All my friends are not in that bad place." "Well, I will take you to a hotel to get breakfast, and then we will see about friends.'' We halted at a low, third-class house, and I was helped up stairs and laid on a sofa. I asked the porter to have the clerk call up where I was. He soon came, and I asked him to write a couple of short notes for me, as I was unable to write for myself. He wrote the following : "^n. George Dawson: "Dear Sie : — I am here at the Hotel, under an arrest by the United States Marshal. Will you call on me soon, and oblige, "Yours in bonds, H. K. Stimson." A similar one was also sent to Rev. J. D. Fnlton, D.D. A boy was dispatched to carry them to their respective addresses. While I was sipping m}- coffee, and attempting to swallow a little breakfast brought up by a waiter, in came the "friends" addressed. LAGRANGE — THE WAR. 275 They both exclaimed as they entered: ''Why Stimson, what has brought you here ? we supposed you were dead, or near to it." I replied : "Not dead, and the way I came here, was by the force of the United States Marshal." At this moment he came in, and seeing Mr. Dawson sitting in front of me and holding my hand, doffed his hat and stam- mered out: "Good m-orn-ing, Mr. Dawson." Mr. Dawson at this arose from his seat, and said to the marshal : "Why, what in the name of common sense have you brought this sick and dying man here for ? I would like to know." Mr. Fulton began by asking him : "Are you human?" The marshal apologized, and appealed to me if he had not treated me well, and like a gentleman? If he had not secured a sleeping-car and a carriage ? To which I answered : "As to the sleeping-car, a friend of mine in Batavia gave you the money with which to pay for it ; as to the ^carriage,' I wish these gentlemen could see it, I think somebody in the 'hen business' would like to have it." The fact was, he had secured his appointment through the influence of Mr. Dawson, and now began to realize that his poor, sick prisoner had friends away here in Albany three hundred miles from home, whom he wished he 276 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. did not know at all. He became exceeding clever to me, and would do anything for me. Mr. Dawson said to him : "Well, go and find out what the bail will be and see that it is forthcoming." and Fulton said (how characteristic) : "I will take him to my house, and if he isn't there when you come, then take myself and wife." He ordered a carriage, and soon I was in his pleasant home, under the kind, Christian nursmg of his family. Soon a physician was sent for, and I was safely out of the protecting power of this specimen of a human brute, called a marshal. Mr. Dawson and his partner in business became my bail, and after a two weeks' rest, I was sent home in company with kind friends who volunteered their gratefully received services. Two of the first lawyers in Western New York volunteered to defend me — Hon. L. W. Thayer of Warsaw, and the Hon. Sanford Church, of Albion, ex-Lieutenant-Governor of New York. At the next term of the United States Court at Kochester, the case was called up. Mr. Church addressed the Court by saying, among other similar things, that, "this case was an unheard-of transaction in civilized prosecution, legal or military." Hon. Mr. Thayer followed, by characterizing the whole affair, from LAGRANGE — THE WAR. 277 beginning to end, as "unworthy of the cognizance of any Court," and moved that the Court enter a nolle jprosequi. The Court so ordered. The two men who had instituted these proceedings against me, were men to whom I had shown especial favor, and had them detailed for less severe service than the common soldiers. Yet they were the first to stimulate insubordination, and to embarrass me in my control of the company. They were clamorous for their discharge; but I was not able to relieve them from the obligations that they had voluntarily assumed — hence their venom. One of them, who had acted as my company clerk, and plotted my ruin, has since been found guilty of forgery. I am not able to say what has become of him. I still live to pity him, and those that so cruelly conspired with him against me. Conscious of my innocence, I did not fear the result ; yet, I was greatly distressed that I should be even charged with wrong doing ; and being dragged away to prison is not very agreeable. There was, however, one pleasant feature in it, for it discovered to me friends whose sympathy and friendship is, and will be so long as I shall live, very sweet to me ; and I want just here to leave this testimony of my 278 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. gratitude to my comrades and brother officers in the Ninth New York Cavalry. Their letters came pour- ing in to the officers of the court, assuring them of my innocence, and were of great service to me. Through it all the Lord led me ; surely "He that is for me is more than they that be against me." During my long sickness, I had no way of making money, and I soon consumed what I had. I could not relieve my mind of anxiety concerning food and raiment, the means of providing which for my family I had none, except what was furnished by liberal friends of all denominations, added to what little my daughter could make by teaching a small district school. But we did not come to want. The church at LaGrange, nine miles off, time and again came down in force, and brought us supplies of provisions and money, and, what was worth more than these, showed a deep, fraternal love for us which greatlj relieved the tedium of painful and protracted sick- ness. I have read the manuscript of Captain Stimson, concerning his con- nection with the Ninth New York Cavalry, and the facts, as he states them, are known to me to be true. W. G. Bentley. St. Louis, February 7, 1874. HO, FOR KANSAS ! 279 CHAPTER XXI. HO, FOR KANSAS ! MRS. STIMSON had a brother residmg in Kansas, who solicited us to come to this new State, where he thought there would be more advantages for our children in the way of securing positions in life, than in the older States. My physician's advice to seek some milder climate as the last hope of recovery, had already prepared us to listen favorably to the Kansas call — not church, but individual. We had a small place on which we were living, but there was an incumbrance on it that certainly we had no very bright hope of ever removing, under the circumstances of protracted illness and no income. After weighing the pros and cons, we concluded to join the army of emigrants for the far-off West, I expecting to find a grave in a short time among strangers. We left New York in April, 1864. I could not walk at the time without the aid of crutches. 280 FKOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. We stopped in Kinderhook, Michigan, to visit a dear daughter, with whom we spent two weeks. Here I attempted to preach for the first time in nearly two years. This duty, if such it could be called, I discharged sitting in a chair. I could not stand in one position long enough to read the Scrip- ture. We bade adieu to the dear ones in Michigan, and after a long and tedious journey through Missouri — the war at the time still raging and keeping all passengers in a state of constant fear — we at length arrived at Leavenworth, where our youngest son was taken sick, detaining us a week at the hotel, the landlord showing us the kindest attention. Here I had my first lesson of Kansas business matters. I had found out that there was no way of going to the Neosho valley but by the round-about one of staging it to Topeka, and then across the country in a little two-horse hack, over a trackless prairie to Burlington, and at exorbitant prices all the way. While we were waiting for the recovery of the boy, some one suggested that our cheapest way would be to purchase an outfit of our own ; that a pony team and a light wagon could take us and baggage with ease, and that the concern would sell at any HO, FOR KAXSAS ! 281 time for about what it cost. So I began to look about for a bargain of the kind. T\Tiile sitting in the office of the hotel one day, a decently dressed young man stepped up to me (wholly accidental — so many interesting things are accidental in Kansas) and asked me if I didn't wish to procure a team to go into the country ? I told him I did, if I could get one" at a reasonable price. He said he had a good span of ponies and a light wagon, and invited me to go with him to the feed stable and see them. So I took my crutch and limped off with him to the stable, some three or four blocks. He brought them out and hitched them to his wagon. I saw that they were larger and better than the average run of ponies. After we had driven around town for a while, mostly on the back streets, I suggested that he drive down one of the main business streets, and to the hotel. He said the "ponies were afraid of stages and covered wagons, not being used to them, and that we had gone far enough for me to judge." "Well, I like their movement; what is your price for the outfit?" "Well, I will tell you, stranger : I am in a hurry to go back to Illinois ; my father is not expected to live ; I will take two hundred dollars for the whole ^shebano:.' The 282 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PtJLPlT. wagon is a little worn, but the harness is new. I paid forty dollars for it last week." I saw it was a bargain, and just what I wanted. "Well, young man, you drive it to the 'Michigan House,' and I will take it." "Stranger, as I have told you, I don't like to drive them on the main streets ; they are a little sheery,^^ "Let me have the reins, then. I'll risk them. I never saw a horse yet I couldn't manage some way." But he objected, and put the team in the stable, and I hobbled back to the hotel, thinking what strange customs they had in Leaven- worth, and what a singular breed of ponies. He had not forgotten to say, however, that he would be around in the evening and close the trade, if I said so. I told my landlord what a fine rig I had found, and that the ponies were shy of the main streets. He replied, "Mr. Stimson, you will have to be on your guard against thieves. If that team and wagon are as you describe them, and can be had for two hundred dollars, you may be sure the fellow has not come honestly by them. I will go over and look at them." In less than thirty minutes he came back, saying, "Your team has just been called for by two men from Missouri. They have been after the fellow the last ten days. They HO, FOR KANSAS I 283 were stolen in Clay County, Missouri. They have got the team, but the thief is minus." The ponies had got over their front-street fright. There are many plausible thieves in Kansas. The climate, or soil, or both — or something — seems to promote this quality of jplausihility in all the somewhat numerous tribes of thieves m this promising, ambitious and destined commonwealth. From what high or low source they may have caught the contagion, the deponent saith not. But a smoother set of pioneer thieves never existed. They are so smooth that they can't be caught ; and if they are caught, they are so smooth they can't be hung. But, thank God, they are dying out. That's the only hope. We took stage for Topeka, and after a long day's ride, we were set down in that capital of the new commonwealth. The next morning, at three o'clock, all five of us were crammed into the little seven -by -nine hack, without having had any breakfast. The old rickety concern, we felt, might fly to pieces any moment. At eleven o'clock, we were set down to our breakfast of beans and flies, and it was hard telling which outnumbered the other. But we found good fare where we stopped for the night, at least it seemed so then. The next 284 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. morning, we arrived at the county seat of Coffey County, the humdrum of a place we had had such glowing accounts of, destined to be a live, wealthy, business, manufacturing ^ commercial, literary, political and religious center. Kansas is a very prolific State in great towns. Cities germinate and grow, prospectively at least (a very slight qualifi- cation), with the utmost spontaneity and rapidity on Kansas soil. In some instances, the wild grass is not killed out of the avenues before the city attains its greatest dimensions. There is much in a name sometimes, as well as in the soil and climate. There are no villages or towns in Kansas. The use of the more expansive name of "city" may account in part for the marvelous dimensions of some of our places. This and the broad-gauged term "avenue," confer a metropolitan flavor most conducive to growth, prospectively at least. The name "Prairie City" may serve to elucidate our idea to some of our Kansas readers. I wish I could describe my first impressions, and those of my family as we peered out of the woods, after crossing the Whistler's ford. "There," said the stage driver, "is the town of Hampden. That box house is where the printer lives, and that is the office on the high ground ; and that long low building is HO, FOR KANSAS ! 285 the court house, and those logs piled up there is a blacksmith shop, and that is the carriage maker's place of business." It consisted of a shanty for hens, and a small barn. I believe I have catalogued the town ; if not, Colonel F. W. Potter will correct me. As the girls put their heads out of the stage and took a view of their new home, I thought I heard something like a sigh. I don't think it was a laugh. They were speechless. I stopped at the printer's, and found our relatives glad to see us, that is, they said so. And we settled in the city of Hampden, county seat of Coffey, Neosho Valley, Kansas. The valley, as a valley, is all right. That still remains, and is a rich farming country, destmed some day to be highly cultivated ; but all independent of Hampden as a county seat. I soon saw that the political cast of the place was democratic, and that nothing but pure democracy would be tolerated as a general thing. Negers were to have no sympathy, and abolitionists must keep mum. The war was a failure, Lincoln was a babboon, George B. McClellan was to be the next president, and the man who denied it was a fool and a knave. Such was the political and moral com- plexion — for the two are similar in such a case — of the city of Hampden. 286 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. I did once venture cautiously to express my humble opinion on certain great questions of human- ity and national policy, and was at once chided as being out of order at the centre of business ; " it would not do at the county seat." If a man wanted to talk that way, he could cross "Whistler's ford" and relieve his mind, but he could not do so and remain in "Hampden, county seat of Coffey." There was one slight drawback, Hampden was a very dry place. Water could be had by going to the river, or at Denicke's well. It seldom came down from above, and it could not be obtained every time by any means, by digging. Water was worth something at the "city of Hampden, county seat of Coffey." Water being an important element in my religious, moral and sanitary creed, and free-thinking and free-speaking a cardinal right in my political creed, I concluded it was best for me to leave "Hampden, county seat of Coffey." Some thought we had "missed it." They were correct. We "missed" about four hundred dollars, all of our this-world's property, which we had spent in the flourishing city of "Hampden, county seat of Coffey." Good-by, "Hampden!" may there never be your equal this side the millennium. I am sure there will not be afterwards. I 287 CHAPTEK XXn. A KANSAS )T\HE a. B. H. M. Society had sent me a J- commission as their missionary for the Neosho Valley, with om* head-quarters at Humboldt, Allen County. Our instructions were to explore the whole valley from Council Grove to the Indian country. In October, we moved to Humboldt. My health had so far improved that I was able to preach once a day on the Sabbath, and occa- sionally twice, and ride in a buggy from twenty to forty miles a day. There were then no bridges. The people had not at that early day invented county bonds. The accommodation for travelers was not equal to what I had seen in some parts of the United States. I can't speak for Europe. Altogether,— including the extent of my field, brought to mind past infirmities and the permanent hold disease had on me, by exposure to storms, by fording of the streams, and often by swimming 288 rR03I THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. the ponies and carriage, and by the exactions of the Society calling for just so much labor, whether it was entirely practicable or not, — ^I was soon brought nearly down to my sick self again. I must say, too, that the compensation I received for these labors was not such as to keep a man's spirit in an undue state of exhilaration, taking into account the fact of a large family and also the fact of war prices. For example, I paid ten dollars for a hundi-ed weight of flour, thirty-five cents a pound for bacon, fifty cents a pound for coffee, two dollars and fifty cents a pound for tea, and for other things in the same proportion. We had lived all winter in a room eight-by-fourteen feet. We were compelled to set our table and chairs out of doors to make room to go to bed. For this, including the out-door room, I paid fourteen dollars a month rent. These e very-day facts were looked at in the light of wealthy Eastern churches, with good comfortable parsonages, the members there not taking the deepest interest in the pioneer work and workers. [Talk about heroism ! If you can find those who endured hardships more manfully, who crucified the A KANSAS "riELD." 89 flesh more heroically or who labored more abun- dantly and with a more Christly spirit than some — we do not say all — of these early pioneers in the employ of the Home Mission Society, you may deny the propriety of our language when we call them heroes, who belonged to an heroic age. Their fields were sometimes as extensive as half a dozen Methodist "circuits." They were often away from home twice as long at a time as the ordinary "circuit rider." The Methodist system is substan- tially one of "circuits," even the pastors staying in a place but for a limited time. So that the early "circuit rider" was not cut off from the sympathy of the Church at its great centers of influence. Of course he endured hardships. Let no one under- value his work or his personal character. But much depends on how hardships are encountered. He encountered them backed up by the whole influence of a powerful organization that was making and had always made a chief glory of abounding in his very kind of labor ; that considered itself especially called of God to a pioneer work. And then his work was personally reviewed every year by his bishop, and his promotion was in pro- portion to his self-denial and labors. It is difficult to conceive of a more congenial atmosphere in which to perform early missionary labor, than that which continually surrounded the pioneer Methodist "circuit rider." The case of the appointee of the Home Mission Society of the Baptist Church was quite" different. He was, in a measure and to a greater degree, isolated. His work could not be adequately represented to "those in authority" who seldom or never visited the field in person, and 290 FKOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. often it was uncharitably compared with work done far away and under totally different circumstances. The spirit of the Church then and now is more properly spoken of as a foreign missionary spirit. The home missionary servant was often well-nigh forgotten, and his toils were comparatively unap- preciated, while the appointee of the Missionary Union was kept in the warmest remembrance and his work most highly prized. The sympathy felt for him was active, practical and cordial. So that we believe the statement correct, that of all men who helped and are helping to subdue this Great West to the sway of Messiah, the comparatively isolated appointees of the A. B. H. M. Society are worthiest of the name of heroes. — Ed.] I think, if I had my life to live over, I would do mor^ for the home missions than ever I have done. I would labor more to bring the wealthy men and churches of the denomination into deeper sympathy with the men and families on the frontier who are enduring well-nigh all things, in some cases, for the Master's sake. But, thank God, these inconven- iences and privations did not deprive us of His power at Humboldt. Amidst the clangor of war and the constant fear of the cruel "bushwhacker," which was only another name for murderer and plunderer, and whose foul deeds were being perpetrated nearly every day all about us, the Spirit was given and souls were converted to Jesus and A KANSAS "field." 291 became obedient to the faith. The place had been sacked twice and burned once by rebel Missourians. It was now a military post, with altogether too small a protection to the remaining citizens, what few there were of soldiers being much given to drinking. With two saloons in fall blast every day, Sunday not excepted, and the click of the billiard-balls to be heard at all hours of the day and night, I made an attempt to preach a free and full Gospel to the few who came and listened. The larger part of the congregation was made up of troops from the post. Among them, I foimd a young man who was a Christian and took part in the devotions. He made no special claim of talents, but I soon saw that he had them; and I learned from the officers that he had been ordained, and preached yet occasionally. Coming to Kansas with his father's family, consisting of two or three brothers, he told them on the breaking out of the war that they ought to have a representative in the army of the country, and if no one of the others would be that repre- sentative, he should be himself. He enlisted in the cavalry service. I at once encouraged him to engage again in the ministry, but he declined, as he said he did not intend to preach until he had 292 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. secured an education. I made an effort to get him a discharge from the army for that purpose ; but soou peace was declared, and he arranged his affairs and spent some time at our State University at Lawrence, and then completed his course in the Theological Seminary at Chicago, with great credit to himself and instructors. He is now one of the honored and beloved ministers of the State. No church need be ashamed of the Rev. R. P. Evans, pastor at Olathe. God poured out His Spirit at Humboldt in the midst of all the depressing and distracting influences at work. The place was very wicked. No sooner were backsliders reclaimed and sinners alarmed, than it seemed as if all the emissaries of the pit of perdition were sent there on a special embassy of ruin. But truth triumphed, and our Jesus conquered as He rode on "mighty to save." No opposition could stop the work. Profane swearing, drunkenness, lewdness, lying, thieving — all had to give way to the Spirit's work and the power of God in answer to prayer. The place we held our meetings in was crowded every evening, and in the day-time Christians of all denominations would come together for supplication and exhortation. God was with us in mighty power. 293 Soon, there was a disposition on the part of a number of the converts to follow the Master in the ordinance of baptism. The officers at the post gave us the use of a tent which was spread at the water's edge for the accommodation of the female candi- dates. On the Lord's day, I baptized fourteen — all adults. Thus the work went on to the praise of Christ. The man who kept the main saloon and billiard- tables of the place, was the son of a "hard-shell" Baptist of southern Illinois ; and among the officers who frequented his place, was Capt. Kendall, who had been well brought up, a man of fine abilities and education, but who had given himself over to drinking and gambling. A young man, not a Christian, had conceived the idea of making a donation to the "poor missionary;" and in carrying out his idea, he called at the different places of resort, as well as business. This saloon was visited, among the other places. There he found Captain Kendall, playing billiards. The young man stepped up to the bar, and handed his paper to Mr. Saloon- keeper. He at once rejected it, with an oath ! "No, not a cent. My father is a Baptist minister, and has preached these forty years and never received a dollar for it, and is a man well off, 294 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT with a good farm; and I don't believe in these missionary Baptists, nor their protracted meetings. I won't give *nary red.' Let them go to work, like honest folks." Captain Kendall, hearing this reply of Mr. Saloon-keeper, said: "Well, 3^our father must have been a old fool, and his son is a chip off of the old block. Here, John, put me down for fifty dollars ; and call at my tent to-morrow, and I will pay it." A donation day was appointed. The largest place in town was jammed, all the officers and boys in blue vieing with each other to see who should do the most. I received over two hundred doUars. It was a timely gift, as all things were at war prices. Spring had come, and we were obliged to get out of our little "seven-by-nine" room where we had wintered and suffered. As there was no vacant house in Humboldt, a kind-hearted brother at lola offered us a part of his house as a gratuity, and as this was in our field, we of course took with delight his offer and moved. We have all felt ourselves under great obligations to Brother and Sister Weller, of lola, for theu' Christian sympathy and generosity. CLOSING THE IVAR IN MISSOUEI. 295 CHAPTEK XXm. CLOSING THE WAR IN MISSOURI. (l)\URING this spring the war came nominally to J-^a close, and yet all along the borders of Kansas and Missouri the skulking "bushwhackers" were committing fearful depredations. ]\Ien ran great hazards in ventm*ing out to any distance from the settlements. An old gentleman, with his wife- friends and neighbors of ours from New York — had come into the country to visit his children, and was taken sick and died. The widow requested me to accompany her with the corpse back to her old home in New York. I consented, and we had got as far as St. Louis and there I met our brother Jesse Stone, of Topeka, on his way to Boston. He was going through Rochester, and would take my place, giving me the privilege of attending our Anniversaries at St. Louis, which were then in progress. At the close of the meeting, the Missouri Pacific road had tendered free passes to all members of the conven- 296 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. tion to the end of the line, then at TVarrensburgh, Missouri. A large number of the Eastern brethren accepted the proffer, among them Eev. William Michels, D.D., of New York City, U. D. Ward, Esq., of New York City, Eev. S. Graves, D.D., of Norwich, Connecticut. Some of the number were going through to Kansas. As soon as we were well under way, stories were put in circulation about the sad havoc the guerrillas were making in Missouri, so that at Warrensburgh they all concluded to return by the next train. But as my home was in Kansas, I must go on. We arrived in Warrensburgh about nine in the evenino;. The stao^e left at ten. An old man and myself were all the passengers to take the stage for Independence, Mo., about one hundred miles. The driver had a bottle of whisky, and was quite "tight" to begin with. The night was exceed- ingly dark. The road ran most of the way through the prairie. As the stage moved out of town, the driver halted and took on a boon companion, of like disposition and condition with himself, being under the delusive influence of bad whisky. They sang bad songs, and used bad language without stint. After traveling five or six miles, we met the incoming stage with a CLOSING THE WAE IN MISSOURI. 297 full load of passengers. It stopped long enough to convey the news of the massacre atHolden of several of its citizens. We were to change horses at Hold en. I saw this sad tale excited my aged companion in travel, now almost travail, and he suggested for us to returu to Warrensburgh, and get a conveyance to take us through by daylight. But I said ; "No, that will not benefit us by way of protection from guer- rillas." So on we went in the dark. Between midnight and one o'clock, the coach stopped, and I heard the driver say: "We are out of the road ; here, you hold the lines, while I get off and look for it." After a long reconnoissance he came back, and reported he could not find it. The old gentleman and myself had got out of the coach, and observed that the man he had left to hold the team, was sound asleep on the box. I asked of the driver : "Where did you leave the road-track?" He replied, with an oath, that he didn't know. I asked him to let me have the coach lamp and I would go and see if I could discover it. As I took the lamp, the old gentleman opened the stage door and took his satchel out. So we started off together. And a fruitless search it was. We came back to find both men in a drunken sleep in the stage, occupying the 298 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. seats, one of them having taken my satchel and shawl for pillow and covering. I went to the boot of the coach, and got the bottle of whisky and emptied it on the ground, and then threw the bottle as far as I could out on the prairie. I set the lamp in its socket, and waited for day. Nothing could be seen but the dim horizon in the distance. Not a star shone through the thick clouds that made the night so densely dark. I saw all this time that my aged friend was much excited, though he said but little. As daylight broke the spell of darkness, I could discover in the distance, men walking back and forth with glistening muskets. It was not light enough for me to see the dress of the men. The question that arose to me, and well nigh choked me was : "Is the color grey or blue?" I soon saw that four of them were approach- ing us, and I called up the boys and told them to hitch up, as we wanted to be moving. As the men neared us, I saw that they were soldiers in blue ! How blessed was that blue ! I felt better, as well as I can remember. The fact was, this drunken driver had been out on a waste prairie four or five miles, and these were the United States troops on the look- out for the raiders on Holden. They saw us by our CLOSING THE WAR IN MISSOURI. 299 stage light, and had kept us in view for hours, expecting that the bushwhackers would make their appearance, and pounce upon us as their prey. The sergeant of the guard directed us to the main road, and at eight o'clock we arrived at Holden. We were due there at four o'clock, a. m. The town was panic struck. Six of her citizens had been murdered in open daylight, and in cold blood, by a band of law- less devils in human shape, who, although the war was closed, were pushing their fiendish work of death for plunder's sake. I informed the stage agent of the conduct of his driver, and went before a notary public and made affidavit to the facts as above related. The hotel was demoralized and broken up by the murders and subsequent panic, so that no breakfast could be obtained there. A stranger informed us that just out of town, on the stage road, was a boarding house where we could get something to eat. So my old companion and myself asked the stage agent if he would have it stop for us at the place. "Well," said he, "I am not certain that the stage will go to-day, as the military will not furnish any guard. You do not want to go without protection, do you?" There were some railroad contractors that had been 300 FEOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. waiting for tlie stage ever since it was due in the very early morning, and were very anxious to get to their men on the job, six or eight miles ahead. Tliey said they ^^must goJ*^ Railroads are generally built by men who talk in that way. They could defend themselves "a little." One of them, turning to me, said, "Stranger, have you any revolver?" and to my companion: "Old man, have?" I told them I had none. "Well, here is one I will lend you as long as we are together." I thanked him and took it. The old gentleman said, "I should not know how to use one if I had it ; I never shot a gun in my life." "Well, said I, "call for us at the small house on the hill, and we will walk along." The lady gave us corn cake and bacon, and bitter coffee, made worse with sorghum. I saw the old gentleman kept his satchel in his hand all the time, and after our meal he said, "I will walk along and get in when you come up." An overgrown specimen of a "puke," who seemed to be general hanger-on about the house, said, "If you have got anything valuable with you, you had better leave it with me, for I doubt if you ever get to Pleasant Hill alive, if you don't have any escort there. Them bushwhackers are in the bush CLOSING THE WAR IN MISSOURI. 301 between here and that place." I saw this excited the old man afresh. As we walked along, and as soon as we were out of hearing of this individual, who had all the latent symptoms of a bushwhacker himself, my companion said, "I suppose you are a good, honest man, and I will tell you my condition. It is this. I am going to Kansas to see my sons at Emporia, or near there, and I am carrying them money to buy land with. I have got twenty thousand dollars in this satchel. I live in Pennsyl- vania, in Crawford County. I am a member of the Presbyterian church, and I hope, a Christian. I had no thoughts of any such trouble as this. If I had, I never would have started. I have never been away from home much. I thought I would hide the money somewhere in the woods, and then if I could, go to see my children." The tears came in the old man's eyes as he spoke. I said, "Now, this is your best policy. Keep quiet. Act careless about your money. Treat your valise as though there was nothing in it. Throw it down anywhere. Keep your eye on it, but appear unconcerned about it. Don't get excited when men talk. That man saw you were anxious about something, where we took breakfast." 302 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. Up came the stage with the raiboad contractors and one lady aboard. The old man threw in his rubber cloth satchel, and on we went. One of the passengers informed us that our greatest danger was about five miles on. Then we would be out of harm's way until at the Osage River, a few miles this side of Independence ; but the probabilities were that we should have an escort of cavalry from Pleasant Hill to Independence. We arrived at the former place about two p. m., and found that the troops stationed there had just returned from a long and weary scout for bushwhackers. They were wearied out, horses and all. The captain of the guard said he could not send a protection until the next day; but finally said, "If the men will vol- unteer, I will consent." And the old man said, "I will pay them, something." So the bugle sounded a "call," and up came the men. He made known to the soldiers the facts, and added that some of the gentlemen had promised them a present if they would go to the crossing of the Osage River. The old gentleman said, "Yes, I will give each man a dollar that will go," and twelve volunteered. We were safely escorted to the river, and before dark, we were in the city of Independence. The railroad CLOSING THE WAK IN MISSOURI. 303 was completed from there to Kansas City. On this of course we gratefully, and with much relief, rode into the "village at the mouth of the Kav/." Here my old Pennite concluded to stay until the next Monday morning. He proposed to give me twenty dollars for aiding him. I thanked him No, I didn't wish to be compensated for doing right and using my wits. I went on to Lawrence to spend the Lord's day. Soon after returning home, the Kansas State Convention of Baptists was to hold its third annual meeting in Paola, June, 1865. Paola had been a military post during the war, and long barracks had been constructed for the quartering of the troops. The commanding officer of the post had given the use of these buildings to the Convention, and had arranged them as well as he could for the holding of the meetings. There was a good representation of officers and men in the meetings. The delegates of ministers and others from the State were fully as numerous as could be expected. Rev. J. B. Taylor, appointed to preach the opening sermon, was con- sidered, doctrinally speaking, of the "hard-sheir* stamp. If there were ever any doubts entertained before of the propriety of the epithet as applied ^o 304 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. him, they were all effectually scattered by this sermon. It was antinomian "hard-shellism" hard- ened. The Association received it kindly, chari- tably, and in a way that spoke volumes for then- common sense, by letting it pass without note or comment. That brother's effort was destined ol com'se from all eternity to fall upon ears that were dull of hearing, and so to drop into well-earned oblivion. Inconsistency is woven into the very texture of the lives of men, individually as well as into that more complex life of associated men — mankind. That in this day of steam and electricity and personal achievement, any one could hold to such ideas as those mildly called "hard-shell," belonging only to the "sleepy hollow" age of the world, if to any, is one of those phenomena that prove beyond controversy that the "fall" made men liable to become fools as well as knaves. All was moving on with the best of feeling, until the last day of Convention, when the committee on the state of the country reported a series of resolutions, among which was one on the death of President Lincoln, expressed in terms of lamen- tation, and adulation of him as a Christian President, etc. The room was crowded with United States CLOSING THE WAE IN MISSOUKI. 305 officers and soldiers, as well as of "citizens." No sooner had the resolutions been read, than the "hyper" brother arose and moved that "so much of the resolutions as referred to Mr. Lincoln as a Christian President be stricken out ;" and then went on to make a most violent speech, denouncing the President for being in a theatre when he was assassinated. He ought to have taken it into account that he was "foreordained" to have gone there ! You might as well undertake to put out powder when it is once ignited, as to have kept that audience, so largely made up of the "boys in blue," still. I being in the chair, called, "Order! Order!" But more than a dozen men were making efforts to get their hands on him. One had his bowie-knife drawn, to kill him on the spot. But two brethren. Major H. A. Dean and Sergeant R. P. Evans,* interfered, and saved the man from sudden death at the hands of United States soldiers. He was spirited away and secreted until night, when he left for his home in Lyon County. The resolutions were passed without opposition, except as above noted. *Now, Rev, E. f. IJvanS; of Qlathe, 306 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. I have related this unhappy afiair, simply because great injustice has been done the brethren who were prominent in the Convention, by charging them with beinoj the instio:ators of intended violence to the person of Rev. J. B. Taylor. To me, it was said, in the city of New York, that "I, as the presiding officer of the body, and others connected with me, put the officers and men up to it." All present at the time know that I tried to keep the meeting in order. I but speak for the brethren of the convention, when I say that the charge is false. We then had a noble band of brethren in this new State. We were far from each other. Our ministerial meetings were few and far between. The churches were small and poor. There were but one or two finished Baptist meeting-houses in the State — one at Atchison and one at Manhattan, I believe. There was a frame up at Neosho Rapids. Leavenworth, Lawrence, Topeka, Junction City, Paola, Fort Scott, Ottawa, Emporia — not a Baptist church edifice in any of them, and all growing; towns of importance in anticipation, with all the elements to make them fulfill the expectation. I am astoiiished at the advance made by us, in CLOSING THE WAR IN MISSOURI. 307 every respect. Our Sunday school system was in a disorganized condition. The schools were feeble, poorly organized and irregular in attendance. We had a few young ministers of education and ability. Now, we have them by scores ; and the above-named towns are supplied with able men, and with church buildings that are ornaments to their respective cities. The summer and autumn of 1865 marks a new era in the history of the churches in Kansas. The war having come to a close, Christian men began to think of doing something for the Master. Quite a number of the men who had gone into the war and a few of the ministers returned to their homes, to preach Christ and serve the churches. While they thanked Him for victories in the field, they thanked Him still more for the victories of the Cross over sin and depravity. Immigration came in like a flood, and towns that had been in a stand- still condition during the nation's conflict, sprang into new life. God was in Kansas, notwithstandins: some "jayhawking" citizens. 308 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. CHAPTER XXIV. IN October, 1865, the trustees of the Ottawa "University" — ^Rochester and Harvard forgive the mark ! — invited me to move to that new "city," and take an agency of the institution, on a salary of one thousand dollars per year, and traveling expenses paid. I consented to do so, and at an early day moved my family to the place, and commenced my work as I was directed by the chairman and secretary of the board. The Baptist church at Leavenworth had begun to build an edifice, and the pastor. Reverend Winfield Scott, invited me to be present at the laying of the comer- stone ; and, by the consent of the board, I went. Soon after, Mr. Scott wrote the board, asking them to permit me to enter their service as agent to collect funds for the carrying on of their great project. Consent was given ; and I went East for that object, and spent the spring and sumnier of -LEAVENWORTH. 309 1866 in the New England States and New York. I first stopped in Quincy, Illinois, collecting about two hundred dollars. Next, in Chicago, I raised the same amount. In Coldwater, Michigan, I raised one hundred and thirty-four dollars. I then went to New York, Boston, Hartford, Providence and the lesser towns and cities, and returned to Ottawa, having been absent from my family from the ninth of February to the eighth of October. During this time I was sick in New York City six weeks, but able a part of the time to supply some of the vacant pulpits, the pastors being away on their summer vacations, the compensation for such services to be applied to the church in Leavenworth towards their building fund. I went to New London, Connecticut, and spent ten days with an old fellow-laborer, Rev. Jabez Swan, whom I had not seen in thirty years, and with" him went to the Stonington Union Association, and heard him preach to the hosts of New England Baptists. It was "a feast of fat things" to hear him expound the Word of God and describe the revivals he had witnessed in that old Association, and what he had accomplished in his early pastoral work in New York and other States. I saw that a few of the 310 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. younger brethren in the ministry thought he was a little too rough in his manner of address. But the large majority of these representatives of the New England churches had the greatest faith in his integrity and piety. Thousands upon thousands all over the land were his epistles known and read of all men. Many of them were present iu this meeting. In his fii'st pastorate in New London he had, by his plain, truthful dealing with error, so exasperated the Universalists that the}^, in their hot zeal, had gone on and built an expensive church, going far beyond their means, hoping blindly to be able to meet their coming liabilities. When this new and elegant house was dedicated, many of Swan's brethren said, if he had been a little more mild, that society would never have built such an edifice ; it grew up into form and beauty out of his imprudent and rash course towards them. Brother Swan hearing this a number of times, replied : "Brethren, the day will come when you or your children will see that meeting-house dedi- cated and owned by the Baptists in the city of New London. Now, mark my words." Brother Swan was soon called as pastor of the State-street church, iu Albany, New York. During the two or three -LEAVENWORTH. 311 years of his settlement in Albany, the debts on the fine Universalist house in New London began to press upon them. Sixteen thousand dollars must be raised, or the house would be sold under the sheriff's hammer. No relief came. Three or four of the wealthier Baptists went to Albany, and said to Brother Swan : "If you will come back to New London, we will buy the new Universalist meeting- house, and have you installed as pastor in it. He consented ; and in a few weeks a sheriff's deed was made out to the Baptist church and society, and Jabez Swan installed as its pastor. There he remained, enjoying the fulfillment of his prophecy, until age had disqualified him for active labor as a pastor in the place. Rev. Jabez Swan was an outspoken man in a 1 his private and public ministrations. As a man in social life, he was as mild and quiet as a child, and as tender in dealing with inquirers after truth as the beloved John. In the pulpit, he was like Paul — logical and truthful. In prayer, he was a power with God. He could prevail. While pastor in Albany, he was called upon, as the custom was in that State at the time for the resident ministers in Albany, to act in turn as chaplain of the House of 312 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. Representatives and Senate. The Speaker of the House at the time, Hon. E. Litchfield, was a Baptist. When Swan's morning came to oflSciate, Litchfield called the House to order and said : "The Reverend Jabez Swan will address the^ Throne of Grace." Swan commenced in the usual way of formality, but soon introduced the practical matter of supplication, making time and place and subjects as pointed and personal as possible — something like the following: "Gh, thou Almighty Savior of sinners, here in this congregation are such as need salvation, and of every imaginable class. Here, G Lord, are men steeped in iniquity, in bribery, in drunkenness, lies, licentiousness and debauchery ; ; old blasphemers, men who fear not God nor regard the interests of man — men who are reprobate to all that is holy and good. Now, Lord God, make known Thy mercy in saving them from the power of the second death, and sustain Thy servant who is called to preside over them, that he be not contaminated by this herd of thieves and robbers. In Thy name we ask it. Amen and amen." Honorable Mike Walsh, of New York City notoriety, an eccentric fellow, arose in his place at the conclusion of the prayer, and moved a question "OTTAWA university'' — ^LEAVENWORTH. 313 of privilege. When the chair had announced his name as having the floor, he continued : "I move that a copy of this prayer be spread upon the journal of the House, for it's the most appropriate prayer I have ever heard in this place." While thus acting as agent of the church at Leav- enworth, I was permitted to witness the Spirit's power in the salvation of sinners, in a number of places where it would have been delightful to have remained ancf assist the different pastors, had duty permitted me to do so. But I had a special object in pursuit. And I have always acted on this prin- ciple : never to do two things at once. "This one thing I do," said Paul. I did depart from this rule for a short time at Cold water, Michigan, ^««here I found the church in a divided state, and where it seemed to be duty to remain a few days and assist in the Christian work of reconciling brethren. After a week's stay, not without its good results, I trust, I went on, stopping at Detroit over one night. In this city, the churches were at the time embar- rassed with debt ; and so I hastened on to New York State, where I was born and where my youth had been spent in folly and sin : where the Spirit first revealed to me the deep depravity of my nature ; B14 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. where God, for Christ's sake, forgave my sins and led me to the cross for hope of eternal life. As I came to some of the places where I had lived as a sinner, I could not suppress my tears of mingled grief and joy — grief, when I remembered the blindness and hardness of my heart when a youth ; joy, when I considered my great deliverance from the power of sin. One sad reflection came upon me like an armed force. It was this : Many of the old ministers, and those who were my companions in the labor of the Gospel, had gone to the Better Land to rest, and were waiting for the resurrection of the just. The time was when I knew nearly every Baptist minister in the State from Lake Erie to the east end of Long Island; from 1840 to 1857, I had commingled much with those in the western and southern portions of the State. Among them, were men of choice spirit. But now, their places were vacant or filled with the young men who had been raised up in the churches and educated in our schools, nearly all of them strangers to me. It was, however, a cheering reflection that upon many of these sons of the Gospel the mantles of their ascended fathers had fallen, and the Elishas of -LEAVENWORTH. 315 to-day were doing the very work of the Elijahs of yesterday. It is a source of joy and pride to see what the schools of the prophets have accomplished for the Baptist churches and their ministers in the last' quarter of a century. Forty years ago we had in all Western New York, but few educated min- isters, and now nearly every church in the State is supplied with a pastor whom no church would be ashamed to have stand before any audience as the ambassador of Christ. I could but exclaim, "God bless these dear young men with the power of the Spirit ! " The most of them gave the best of evi- dence that they were taught of God, as well as in the Seminary. I found only one exception, and perhaps what I criticized in him was a mistake more than a fault. A young brother was to preach the opening sermon at an Association. His text was Isaiah Ixiv. 6 : "We do all fade as a leaf." After an introduction by way of urging upon the assembly the importance of a chemical, agricultural and scientific understanding of the processes of nature in the growth of vegeta- tion, he announced his theme, "The Fading Leaf," and then set forth the doctrine of the text, (he said it was the doctrine) First, "The process of fading 316 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. and falling;" Second, "The use the leaf is put to by nature, after it fades and falls." The sermon had one grand feature. It was just twenty-seven minutes long. At the conclusion, all said Amen. I was invited home to dinner with an old friend who asked me, with a twinkle of the eye, as we walked along, "What agricultural society did that young man say he belonged to ? " There was not a good round sentence in it, from beginning to end, for Christ and the salvation of lost men. But this case was an exception to the young men generally. He had more learning than good Gospel sense. I have given my views in a previous chapter on the subject of an educated ministry, so that I will not trespass again upon the time of the reader to enlarge upon the subject at this point. Everywhere I went I was hailed with a most hearty welcome by old and young, friends and strangers. After the meeting of the anniversaries in Boston, I came to Connecticut and spent the time till their annual State meeting in the city of Hartford — a meeting long to be remembered. It was a grand sight to see those New England Baptists who had contended so earnestly for the faith once delivered to the saints against ecclesiastical domination and the authority 317 of a law of persecution, and to hear the reports from the churches they represented, showing how much material and spiritual prosperity attended them in all their religious enterprises. Such devoted men, laymen and ministers ! Such liberality as was evinced for every good object ! Such fraternal respect for each other, and for the opinions of others ! There was no great "/" and little "yow," as I had witnessed in some places. The doctors of Divinity did not put on airs, or betray any symptoms of having that bane of human gi'eatness, "the big- head." Every man's hat fitted his own head. One evening of the session was given to a social and simple supper in the large edifice of the First Baptist church. At this supper a number of gentle- men, not members of the denomination, were called upon for speeches, among them Hon. Mr. Hawley, Governor of the State, and son of a Baptist minister in the State, who had toiled when Baptists every- where in New England received ''cold-shoulder,''' and Baptist ministers small salaries in addition. I was called upon to represent Kansas and the needs of the Baptist church at Leavenworth, and in response to my plea for the latter, received nearly seven hundred and fifty dollars. All the pulpits of 318 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. that State were open for the presentation of the wants of the needy. Well, Connecticut is a grand old State ! It's a good State to be in. It's easy work to praise it. At Danbury I found a noble band of Christian men and women. Here I was invited by the pastor, Eev. D. M. Stone, D. D., now of Milwaukee, Wisconsin, to present the claims of my object. Also at Norwalk I received the same invitation from Eev. C. N. Swan, son of Jabez Swan, of New London. The church at Stamford is a grand spec- imen of what a church ought to be. This church, Eev. Edward Lathrop, D. D., pastor, good and true, treated me with New Testament consideration and liberality. I then came back to New York and took the line of churches up the Harlem road to Westchester, Putnam and Dutchess counties, and attended the two Associations composed of the churches in that wealthy region of hills and dales which well nigh flows with milk, the farmers fur- nishing this article in the greatest quantities for the New York market. From these hills the water also for that mighty city is furnished. The Croton Eiver is here turned into two or three reservoirs, from which it flows in underground acqueducts about -LEAVENWORTH . 319 eighty miles to the city, costing millions of dollars. I did not wonder that so many of the people in that country were of Baptist proclivities, water being so valuable an article, and so highly prized. I heard no complaints that it was "dangerous to health," as we hear out West. While in Rhode Island I received a telegram requesting me to go to Washington, D. C, to meet a friend, and to attend to business relating to the "University" at Ottawa. Having complied with this, I returned to New York, where I resigned my position in connection with that enterprise, and then hastened to my home in Ottawa, Kansas. As their pastor. Rev. I. Sawyer, D. D., had resigned, the church invited me to supply their pulpit until they could obtain another pastor. Mrs. Stimson was acting as matron of the Indian Department of the school. I accepted the position of supply until the next autumn. I then went to Lawrence, and com- menced a meeting in connection with the pastor of the Baptist church in that place, Eev. E. D. Bentley. This was about Christmas. I only expected to remain a few days, and then return to Burlington to spend the winter with my daughter and her family. Perhaps it will be of sufficient interest to the 320 rR031 THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. reader to detail somewhat the precious work of grace iu Lawrence during the winter of 1867-1868. It was Wednesday evening, the time for the regular prayer meeting of the church. Pains had been taken by the pastor and others, to give notice that there would be preaching in the lecture room. At the hour appointed there were seventeen present, all told. I talked to this handful from the Word of the Lord in Nehemiah iv. 6, "For the people had a mind to work," introducing two simple thoughts : First, The magnitude of our work ; Second, What is our individual work as Christians ? At the con- clusion, I suggested this as a test of our willingness to enter at once upon the work, that each one bring a friend with him, or her, at the meeting the next night, and that would make thirty-four. Thm'sday night came, and there were over one hundred present, and soon we had to go into what was the main audience room at the time, and before January was out, all the churches in the city were in a full blaze of revival spirit, and multitudes of the impeni- tent were heard to inquire, "What must we do to be saved?" It was estimated that in all, four hundred had submitted to Jesus, mi hoped in his saving power. -LEAVENWORTH. 321 I remained in Lawrence until June, and then went to Atchison, to supply the desk until Dr. Sawyer, pastor elect, should assume his position in the church. I spent the remainder of the year in preaching in destitute communities and in asssisting pastors in protracted efforts, as opportunities offered. During the time of holding these meetings, we experienced great inconvenience for the want of proper places in which to hold them, and the suffering to the people was great from what are called "basket meetings" held in the woods. These annoyances or sufferings proper were two : First, The chills and fever attacked the people, because of the miasma that arises from all unsubdued lands in the Western States, especially from low-wooded lands. Second, The flies, of which we have large swarms in this country, annoyed the horses and mules so badly that it was almost impossible to keep the animals in camp. Besides these, the heavy rains, so common in the forepart of the season, might be mentioned. 322 FROM. THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. CHAPTER XXV, (A/T one of these out-door, afflicted gatherings at -^^ LaNape, Brother Winfield Scott and myself suggested the idea of a large tent, such as we had both seen in the army, and the practical utility of which we both knew. If we only had this, we could go on to the open prairie, where it would be healthier and pleasanter, and could also be protected against the hot sun and the dews, the rains and the flies. When the thing was named to the multitude, it was hailed as the very thing needed, and a reso- lution was passed that if possible one be obtained, and that Brother H. K. Stimson be requested to solicit subscriptions for the purpose — the tent to be called the "Baptist Tabernacle for Kansas." Early in this winter, I started out on this mission for a temporary meeting-house that could be easily moved from place to place, as circumstances should demand. I found the Northern winters in the sections of 1 323 country I wanted to visit for the purpose so severe, and my health so feeble, that but little could be accomplished until the spring should open. Mean- time, I had gone on East and made a few collections. In April, I left New York for the West, At Chicago, I had the tent constructed, seats and all; and, by the advice of brethren, set it up in that city, the friends there contributing towards the expense. We held meetings in it for four or five days and nights, with large audiences filling it to its utmost capacity. It would hold, comfortably seated, about sixteen hundred persons, and by crowding it, twenty-five hundred could be got inside of it. When we were ready to move it, the Chicago, Burlington and Quincy Railroad Company, and the Hannibal and St. Joe Company, volunteered to convey it to Leavenworth, free. The Reverend L. P. Judson, of Stillwater, New York, accom- panied us and took charge of the tent as far as Leavenworth ; and there, with the assistance of that ever-ready and industrious Reverend Winfield Scott, we pitched the Tabernacle for dedication. Large crowds assembled from day to day and from night to night. We next moved it to Ottawa, where there was to be a Sunday school celebration, 324 FKOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. and where we were persuaded to erect it for the accommodation of the large meeting. From there, we went to LeKoy, Coffey County. At this place, the small church gave us the best accommodation in their power, under the circumstances. At this place, my health gave out, and I was obliged to desist from further personal labor during the season. The brethren at Burlingame, Osage County, had proposed to send teams for the tent, in which to hold the meetings of their Association. But failing to come to time, we put the Tabernacle into winter quarters at Burlington. This tent enterprise aroused a good deal of oppo- sition from the enemies of religion, and, I regret to say, a few of the professed friends of the Master in Kansas. Why they should oppose it, I could never know. It was suggested that it grew out of the fact that they did not get it up, and that there was no money to be made out of it for their pockets. [This somewhat famous tent might have been as successful, practically, as it was bold and original in conception, if it had not been for two mistakes — one of which Father Stimson was not responsible for, under any circumstances ; and the other was a most natural mistake to make for a man ambitious **THE Baptist tabernacle.'* S25 of doing the most good. Too much camiot be said in praise of the idea of such a tent. It showed a more thorough comprehension of the situation than anything ever devised in a religious way, even in prolific Kansas. The first mistake was in making the tent too large. It was not too roomy for some places where it would be advisable to erect it. But it was designed for pioneer work, for towns and communities where there were no church buildings or public halls, and where one-half the room would accommodate all the people that could be induced to attend public worship, even in so novel and inviting a place as a tent. The canvas, seats and poles were a full load for four horses. It was a great job to move it from place to place. K it had been half as large, an ordinary wagon and span of horses would have been all the equipage necessary for its removal. The work of erecting it would not have been half as much ; and in every place it would have been entirely full — and others, besides public speakers, know the inspiring effect of a full audience. The second mistake was in erecting it in places where it wasn't really needed. In Chicago, where it was gotten up, it was well enough to spread it for an opening meeting. But, even there, it ought to have been with the square promise on the part of responsible ones that every cent of indebtedness on it should be paid off at the time. It never should have been erected in Leavenworth or Ottawa. These towns had certainly passed beyond the tent period. If a tent that would comfortably seat five or six hundred had been kept in the infant towns of Kansas from the time this monster canvas first made its appearance 326 FROM TSU STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. at Leavenworth, and had been manned by Brethren Stimson and Scott, it is safe to say that the number of conversions in the State during the time would have been at least five thousand greater. I would rather be the author of a grand failure, than to live forever like some old parchment-skinned conservative, whose main characteristic consists in equivocating so as to avoid every square, vital issue, and whose religion consists in not doing anything that will have the least appearance of being out of the ordinary beat. Such men, however much they may cry "Lord, Lord," hardly belong to the race of heroes smitten with the power of 9ie Spirit until wherever they go the cry is : "These that have turned the world upside down, have come hither also." If they ever keep company with the apostles and their spiritual successors, the Lord will surely have to shake the easy-going, damnable conservatism out of them. I would rather be Sir John Franklin, though the unknown region of the Pole is never pierced by the prow of any human navigator, than to be old Sir Parchment Conservative, with my money bags and blessings, the fruitage of other people's enter- prise, and for whose daring and skill I had only sneers. I would rather be the child of the man who devised for God and humanity this tent, though it was too large, and though it was set up at first where it was not needed, than to be obliged to call any of the full-favored persons, or those afflicted with the dry rot of conservatism, who ridiculed the enterprise, my father. It was my good fortune to be present a short time at Fort Scott, during Brother E. P. Hammond's stay in that enterprising city, when the old tent 327 vindicated the wisdom of its originator. It was during his great religious campaign in Kansas, in the year 1872, when God so signally blessed Atchi- son, Leavenworth, Topeka, Ottawa, Paola, Fort Scott, and last, but chiefly, Lawrence, with His saving grace, and the name of Hammond became a household word with thousands who previously cared for none of God's fellow-laborers. All these places except Fort Scott, had church buildings, or halls large enough to accommodate the multitudes that crowded the meetings of this Avonderful man of God. Here there was no place that would hold the half of them, until the active ones thought of the tent, and brother Hammond with his quick insight for expedients urged the brethren there to secure it. I went as a special messenger in behalf of the church at Ottawa. I arrived at Fort Scott after ten o'clock at night. I hurried up town ; delegates from other places and for the same purpose being aboard the same train. I found the tent jammed with human beings, and the backless seats in the open, chill air outside, all full. It was estimated that from five hundred to a thousand were outside the tent each night. People had come from long distances in covered wao^oiis to attend the meetino^s. If it had not been for the big tent, Fort Scott would not have enjoyed the labors of the great evangelist, which resulted in such "showers of blessings." If the tent had never served any useful purpose before, and never shall again, its service in the great meetings at Fort Scott has vindicated its making many fold. —Ed.] 328 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. At LeEoy, after we had got the meeting in opera- tion, one of the lawyers of the place, au old acquain- tance of mine, met me in the street with the remark : "Ha ! Elder, I understand you have gone into the circus business, and are now performing in our city." This was said with a leer in the expression of his face, that expressed his hatred of religion. I replied: "O, yes, Squire J., and I am out now to look up a babboon to put into the concern, and you are the very one for the place ; come right along, I will do well by you." He turned on his heel and left. As a general thing, our efforts with the tent were treated with due respect by all classes. KINDERHOOK — WHEATLAND. 329 CHAPTER XXVI. KINDERHOOK ^WHEATLAND . MY feeble and failing health demanded rest and quiet. So I went East to Michigan, to stay a while with a daughter in that State and recruit for the spring campaign. But I was advised by physicians and friends not to think of exposing myself to the fatigue and hardship of such exhausting work, especially at my time of life. At Eanderhook, Michigan, where my daughter resided, was a Baptist church without a pastor. In fact they had never enjoyed the regular, consecutive labor of a pastor ; preaching "onct" a month, or "twict" at best, being the rule with them. The church numbered about thirty or thirty-five. They had built a snug little meeting-house, and had a good congi'egation. An invitation was extended me to become their pastor, which I accepted. I at once moved my family there, and found them a good, common sense people, quite consistent in their daily walk, and willing to do what 330 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. they could to sustain the cause of Christ, and hold up the hands of the pastor and make his position secure and comfortable. So the first year passed off agreeably, and with evident tokens of good in prospect. Our Sunday school was a union school. No sectarian sentiments were to be taught in it, as is the common rule in such cases. Not even a book was admitted that had a tendency in that direction. In the year 1870-71, we had quite a religious awakening, and a number of hopeful conversions to Jesus. On one Lord's day, a regular teacher in the school was absent, and her place was supplied by the wife of the Methodist clergyman of the place. In the lesson the subject of baptism occurred. A young lady in the class asked a question on the subject. The teacher at once protested that baptism was not by immersion, and that Jesus was not baptized as an example, but as an introduction into the priest's office. When I returned home, I found quite a fermentation working on the subject, and thought, as it was a union school, these things ought not so to be. The next Sabbath, the said Methodist lady came with her husband to frown me down, and to choke off all utterances by way of protest on my I KINDERHOOK — WHEATLAND. 33] part. Wisliing to counteract the mutually inter- dicted influence then and there, in my own house of worship, as it was manifesting itself in the pew away in one corner, I said, "If you wish, Mr. H , to discuss these questions at a proper time and in a proper spirit, I hold myself ready to engage in the discussion. But just here and now, I am not ready to enter upon it, and for the present, I protest." But the spirit of war was difi'using itself like leaven in the meal. In June, Brother A. P. Graves came and labored four or five days with the church, and the revival spirit of the previous winter was renewed and increased to a large extent. The meeting closing on Friday, the next day was our covenant meeting. I gave notice of the same, and Mr. gave notice that he should be there and preach at five p. m. , and if any wished to join his class, an opportunity would be afi'orded. Saturday came, and to m}'- surprise nearly every convert was there. And as they presented themselves, one after another, for baptism, a number of the Methodist brethren and sisters made the request to be admitted, and among the number was the man who had been a class leader, and a strong supporter of that church for years. He arose and said : "You all know me and my course of life. I want to be 332 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PIILPIT. immersed, aud become a member of this Baptist church." Ten or twelve united and were baptized the next day in Silver Lake. It was a grand day for converts and the church, and the old pastor never felt better in his life. The Methodist minister lived opposite my house, and as he returned home to attend his five-o'clock appointment, his good wife sat in the doorway, waiting for him, and I sat in my door. As he drove up to the gate, his wife rose, and walking with rapid strides, threw up her hands and exclaimed in upper tones, "John, they have all gone, George and all, into the Baptist church I" ]\lr. H hung his head, and sat silent for awhile. He then went and put out his horse. This broke up the sweet union, so much talked of by certain ones — union as long as theycan have their say and way. Just in the midst of this revival, the old Wheat- land church extended me a call to visit them, and re-settle with them as pastor. I went down to New York and spent two weeks with them, and gave them encouragement of accepting their invitation. They expressed a great desire that I should, and offered me many inducements, pecuniary and other. But when I returned to Kinderhook, and found what the Spirit was doing, and the state the church ( KINDERHOOK WHEATLAND. 333 was in, and how much the young converts needed the fostering care and counsel of a pastor, I wrote to the friends in Wheatland that it would be impos- sible for me to leave at the particular juncture. For some unaccountable reason my letter and other letters did not reach them, nor their communications reach me. So the negotiations between us ended. Perhaps it was all for the best. In a human view, it did look as though something might have been accomplished for that old wealthy church and people. I can imagine that an effort at that time would have resuscitated the cause in that once very flourishing field of religious power. On the other hand there would have been many things against such a success. The two young churches on either side of them were anxious to secure the wealthy and active members still remain- ing in the mother church. Mumford and Clifton were like the "daughters of the horse leech." And then again, I was much older, and somewhat impaired in health. As I said to an old friend, H. K. Stimson of 1850 was not the same man in 1871. A large majority of the members remaining knew me only when they were children, and the elderly ones would say, "Well, we heard that clattering voice a long time ago, but now it has lost 334 FKOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. its ring and vim." It may all have been for the best as it was. I meant to do right. The other too churches had good, reliable pastors, and are working in harmony serving God. I wish we had more such here in Kansas, and more such meeting houses with their bells in many of our new and rising towns. The old cemetery in Wheatland is a sacred city of the dead to me. There are the remains of a multitude of dear old friends, in whose names and memories there is a sweet fragrance. They were, many of them, my counselors and supporters, in the days of my residence among them. These hands helped to smooth the dying pillows of some of them, and over the cold bodies of many I said, "Dust to dust." And, a dearer tie than these — a large number of them T buried with Christ in the baptismal tomb. One little cherub lies in the sacred enclosure of that cemetery whom we depos- ited there during the first year of our residence in Wheatland. Oh, what a glorious day that will be when the graves shall give up their dead, and we shall greet each other in the Celestial City ! God hasten it in His time ; and let us be prepared to meet Him and each other with joy, and not with grief. BURLINGTON, KANSAS. 335 CHAPTEK XXVn. BURLINGTON, KANSAS. IT was a strange Providence that brought us back to Kansas again. But I can now see that it was a Providence fraught with the weightiest consid- erations, as all His dealings are. Our children who remained here were constantly writing, urging us to return to Burlington ; and the remnant of the Baptist church here held out inducements to me, pleading that something might be done to resuscitate the fallen cause of the church in the place. Their late pastor had deserted them and joined another denomination, and left the church in a distracted state. He had gone off largely m debt, to his own disgrace and their shame ; and if something was not soon done, all would go to ruin. Through his mismanagement, a small dwelling-house had been purchased with a tax-title against it and a mortgage of two hundred dollars. They had already paid more than the property was worth or would bring 336 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. in market. On arrival, I found things even worse than represented, and the church few in numbers and poor. I did not expect to settle as pastor with any church, but to rest with our children and do such missionary work as might present itself, espe- cially among the poor and destitute communities in this county. But soon the church extended me a call to become pastor ; and although they could not promise a competent support, they would do all that in their poverty they could to sustain a pastor. Under these circumstances, I accepted the position and set myself at work. We had no place in which to hold our meetings, only an old dilapidated school- room in an upper loft — dirty, dingy, inconvenient, uninviting. The Sunday school was about the only redeeming feature of the concern, and that greatly retarded for the want of an attractive place in which to collect the children. Many of the parents did not wish their children to go up into the old stone building. The school had been kept together by Brother I. Mickel, who was doubtless the best superintendent in the city. In the course of the winter, the Episcopal chapel was vacant, and the wardens of the church invited us to occupy the house until they should be supplied with a rector. BURLINGTON, KANSAS. 337 We accepted their kind offer, and at once entered the chapel with our Sunday school and congre- gation. Both were soon largely increased, and things moved on for awhile with a degree of pros- perity. But soon some of the feminine members of that church began to put on "high church" airs, and thought it an outrage on the sacred place for an "unconsecrated and unordained" man to preach there, polluting their "sacred and holy sanctuary." And then, "if this old Baptist Elder and his little church can get up a Sunday school of seventy-five or eighty children and a decent congregation, why can't we?" who are the regular succession. The good brother, the rector who had preached to the church and was expected to return in the spring, was a true, evangelical, Christian gentleman, and had suggested the matter of our occupying their house in his absence. Soon, however, we were notified to vacate the premises, and were again turned out upon the "cold charities" of the world. Some of the most lovely and devout Christians I have ever seen, were members of the Episcopal communion. They were "low church," though, you may be sure. Such cared much more for Christ than for "church," and for his true members 338 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. than for mummeries. As for "high church" people, Simon-pure, I have the same feelings and respect for them I have for the high-priests and Pharisees mentioned in the account of the murder of Christ. They belong to the same category. They have great regard for the "outside of the cup and platter." They have much more respect for the vestments than the character of the men (or men and boys) who "minister" before them. They never could have endured John the Baptist. His "vestments" would have been shockingly wanting in length and in all regard for the sacred proprieties. They would prefer to do without the Messiah, rather than receive Him at the hands of such a "Forerunner." A Gospel that could be preached in the wilderness, or on a lake in a fisherman's dirty boat, and that was glad news to tax-gatherers and harlots, is alto- gether too rough a thing for them in their soft silks. How such "high church" grandees are ever to endure a heaven of equality, to keep company with redeemed Magdalenes and poor people with bad antecedents, and to worship Him who "exchanged visits" when here on earth with families that did their own work, is a matter of strange interest to me. Women seerp to have a "fatal facility" for BURLINGTON, KANSAS. 339 soaring (or sinking) into this hyperion of double- rectified religion. It must have been invented to suit their superlative notions. There is something so select about it. It doesn't bring them into contact with females who presume to worship God with last year's bonnets on their plebeian heads, and who manipulate the "prayer-book" with ungloved hands. It's the nobbiest thing out, this genteel, gilt-edged, high-toned. Fifth-avenue, carriage-and- four, F. F. Y., superlatively refined improvement on the religion of the homeless, wandering Son of the Nazarene carpenter. Notwithstanding we had no place in which to meet except an old dingy Court-room, our Sunday school kept up its interest. We were very kindly offered the use of such meeting-houses as were not used by the respective churches worshiping in them — a kindness appreciated by us all. At this time, the mortgage on the property of the church became due, and the parties holding it were pressing its payment. An effort was made to cancel the claim ; but the old patrons of the enterprise were unwilling to contribute any more, and there the matter was likely to hang. Just before this^, a brother and sister had come among us from the 340 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. Second church of Kochester, New York. They proposed to assist in the payment of the mortgage, on condition that an effort be made to build a house of worship ; in which case, they would also purchase a lot on which to build it. After much pleading and a little ill-feeling on the part of some, the mortgage was paid, by Mrs. Stimson giving fifty dollars of money especially belonging to her. This offering did not come out of our two hundred-dollar salary, not yet all paid. We shan't cry if it's never paid. This Brother Wigston, from Rochester, New York, procured a suitable lot ; and it was decided by the trustees and church that I should go and solicit assistance in erecting a suitable house of worship. Accordingly, on the ninth of April I started out on my mission ; and after spending a few weeks in Michigan, where I received a cordial greeting and material contributions to my object from both pastor and people, I hastened on to Western New York. Many of these Michigan people will be held in refreshing memory, and will have the lasting gratitude of the little church in Burlington, for their liberal, practical sympathy, manifested to them in then* poverty. I have often said when alone, "God bless the pastors and churches in Michigan." OLD MEMORIES. 341 CHAPTER XXVin. OLD MEMORIES. IAREIVED in New York just in time to wit- ness the proceedings of the Niagara Baptist Association at Akron. It was in this Associa- tion that I was ordained, and in which many of my youthful ministrations were bestowed. Here I met a few of the veterans of the Master's cause, but not one of the old ministers. All were at rest. Hon. Burt Van Home was a child when we labored in this Association. I remembered well the house and home of his devoted father and mother, who were pillars in Zion ; and the day he was baptized in one of those precious revivals in Newfane. He was moderator of the Association, a position he has held for a number of years consecutively. And a capital presiding officer he makes. I spent the next Lord's day in Lockport, and the next week in attending the Orleans Association at Shelby. Here I met a large number of old friends, but not a minister that I knew 342 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. when I was young. I was led to ask : ''The fathers, where are they? and the prophets, do they live forever?" Here, I met the widow and family of one of the Wheatland members I baptized in 1847, and was made the guest of the family during my stay there. I was offered a collection, and was invited to visit their churches in the Association. I then went on to Rochester, and spent a long time with old friends and with the churches in and about that goodly city. The land-marks in many places had been moved, and in not a few respects radical changes had taken place — some for the better and some not for the better. Rochester is a grand little city, in which I, in common with the whole Baptist brotherhood, feel a degree of pride. How different now from the first time I saw it in 1819 1 Fifty-four years had changed it from a little village to a prosperous, literary, religious city of eighty thousand inhabitants — the influence of which is felt to the ends of the earth through the educated sons of its institutions of learning. I went there to live in 1824. Then its streets were not paved, except with black mud. I remember that in Buffalo street, between State and Sophia, I got "stalled" with an empty coach in 1826, and had OLD MEMORIES. 343 tx) send back to the hotel for help to get out. There were some things I remembered as I revisited the localities, that I wished I could forget. I will not enumerate them ; "of which I am now ashamed." They bring a blush to my temples as I think of them. I will allude to only this one, of the lighter sort. This is hardly a specimen of many that were much more disgraceful. The village had then just organized a police force, and had for a place in which to confine violators of the public peace, the basement of the then new court-house, long since given place to the stately edifice that now graces the city. In this room they had just put new cricket-bedsteads, and nice rose blankets, so that the city criminals could have rest of body, if not of conscience. These sleeping accommodations had not been used. I knew the man on duty that night ; only one at a time was required. His name was "Constable Beach," as we called him. It was court week, and every bed in the "Eagle Hotel" ^d "Mansion House" and "Clinton Hotel" was full. Mr. Ains worth, the keeper of the "Eagle" had given the beds in the attic story, that were usually occupied by the stage drivers, to some of his court guests. So we were called to lie on the floor in the bar-room, or sit up, 344 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. just as would suit our tastes best. After yawning out our stories and getting tired of our entertain- ment, and feeling the need of rest, I saw Constable Beach pass along the street, on his round of duty. At once I thought of the new beds under the court-house, and suggested to the boys a plan for lodging for the remaining short hours of the night. The plan was this : we would go into the street and get up a sham fight among ourselves ; Beach would come along, arrest us and put us into the new rooms and clean beds of the city "boarding house." Out we all went, five or six of us, and began our row, then clinched. Up came Beach in great haste, arrested all of us, and hurried us over to the court- house bed rooms. "There, boys, you can lie down there if you choose. In the morning I shall take you before Squire Warner," and he locked us in. In the morning he came in and said : "You will all want your breakfast. I will go over with you to the ^ Eagle.' I suppose you all board there." He saw us laughing as we were straightening up, and asked : "What was the fuss among you last night, boys?" So we told him a plain, unvarnished tale. "Well, go and get your breakfast, I will let you ofi" this time, but you must not do it any more, boys." I OLD MEMOEIES. 345 told him if there was any damage done, he must get it out of Russ Aiusworth, and put it into the public fund as "lodging money." Thurlow Weed was then publishing in the village a small weekly paper, and made a note of the afiair, under the caption of: "A Joke on Constable Beach ; Cheap Lodgings at Cor- poration Expense." During my stay in the region, I visited the town of Mendon, where my childhood and youth were mostly spent. An old friend invited me to make my home at his house while I remained there. And a brother in Rochester, formerly a resident of that place, Mr. S. F. Kjmball, accompanied me, having sent on an appointment for the Sabbath. We were met at the depot by Mr. Daniel Allen, who con- veyed us to the village of East Mendon. This little village has been left out by the railroad some three miles to one side, which slighting has appeared to dry up all the sources of business enterprise in this once enterprising little burg. In our days of staging, it was what we call out West a "right smart place." Two or three daily lines of stages changed horses, and breakfested and dined here, so that a ready market was found for the hay, grain and hotel provision the farmers of the region had to 346 FROM THE S'ftAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. dispose of. It contained four stores and two good hotels ; — now, only one little store and one third or fourth-class hotel. But this was not the most dis- heartening change visible. The religious decline was more depressing to me than all else. The two meet- inghouses were standing nearly empty every Sabbath. The Baptist house, where crowded congregations used to meet, was now sparsely filled, and the same was true of the Presbyterian. I met but few that I recognized, and less, far less, that were members of either of theae churches in 1828-1831. What few there were that remembered me in my youth, had some romantic story or frivolous trick of mine to relate, to my chagi-in. Some of them were false, only made up to perpetuate a bad record of youthful folly and nonsense. Some of them told me of my pranks in youth, that their fathers and mothers had been cognizant of. On Sunday my congregation was composed of Baptists, Presbyterians and Methodists, who had come out to hear "the man who once was the fun- making boy of Mendon," now an old Baptist minister. They gave me a fair collection for the object of my mission, and seemed to do it heartily, as to the Lord. On Monday, I called on a number OLD MEMORIES 347 of old friends, and then returned to Rochester. My temporary home while in the city, was in the families of A. and J. A. Hibbard, where I experienced as much kindness and attention as I could expect from my own children in sickness. No better nursing and care could be bestowed on an own father. Long shall I cherish a deep sense of gratitude to God for these dear friends, and many others in the "Flour City." My stay in Mendon, though brief, brought to mind frequently the person and character of one who "being dead,' yet speaketh;" one who occupied a large place in the hearts and thoughts of the people, and who waged so successful a warfare against sin and the devil, in this and adjoining places. I refer to Elder Weaver. 348 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. CHAPTER XXIX, ELDER WEAVER. 37VLDER Weaver — "Elder" was the much more -■-^ common designation of ministers then, specially Baptist ministers — was a power wherever he preached. He was a farmer when he began preach- ing, and was, strictly speaking, self-educated. What he acquired was acquired from few books, and without all the aids of the modern school system. He had very noticeable peculiarities. He was a large, bony, angular, rough-looking man. He was what we boys used to call "cock-eyed," not exactly cross-eyed, but the opposite of that, so that while he seemed to be looking in one direction he would really be looking in another. His complexion was exceed- ingly dark, and his bushy whiskers as black as a raven. These chin appendages were a source of complaint on the part of his friend?. Whiskers on a ministerial face were not as orthodox then as now. His heavy black hair he used to wear quite long. He often preached with his coat off. ELDER WEAVER. 349 His praise was in all the chiirclies. * He was eleven years pastor of the Mendon church. When he settled there the church numbered twenty-one, and worshiped in an old school-house, called the "boiling spring," because they always had such powerful devotional meetings. What temporary place of worship receives any such epithet now, on account of the meetings in it? This "boiling spring" fact is as high praise, well-nigh, as could be bestowed on a church. Brother Weaver was a young man when he came to Mendon. He was their second pastor, and this was his second pastorate. The first was Jesse Brayman, who afterwards apostatized to the Universalists, and met his end by going into a well which caved in on him. Elder Weaver was ordained at Lysander, Onon- dagua County, near Syracuse, a much larger place than Syracuse at that time. He was settled there as pastor a couple of years. There were seven years of continuous revival during his eleven years' pastorate at Mendon. There were five years in which additions were made to the church by baptism at every communion. This was stated in his farewell sermon, which I went seven miles — from Kush, — to hear. I shall never forget the opening hymn, on that day : 350 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. " Lord, what a wretched land is this, That yields us no supply. No cheering fruits, nor wholesome treea Nor streams of living joy. '* He was a great singer. Description would utterly fail to give an adequate idea of him as a singer. They used to say he sang everybody into the church. His singing might not have been called "fine" by the musical critics, but it was fairly weighed down with soul. Negatively it was not faulty, but positively it was heavenly to every devo- tional soul. He went down to New York to help the pastor of the Broome-street church, Israel Robords, in a protracted meeting ; and pulled off his coat like a workman in fact. During the series of meetings, the young men would say to one another : "Come, let's go down to Broome street to meeting. There is a man there who preaches like a man a-mowing. He pulls off his coat." He used to indulge at times in flights of real eloquence. One instance : The galleries of his church were crowded with young people one evening, when a number of them kept up a constant whispering and tittering. Turning towards them, ELDER WEAVER. 351 he said, in a manner and with tones that cannot be described any more than they can be forgotten : "What an astonishing evidence of human depravity, that while the man of God is declaring the way of salvation by the Cross, young gentlemen and ladies in the gallery should be making sport of the very means of their salvation from sin and death — while, peradventure, God's recording angel stands ready to write * eternal damnation' on their hearts." The result : a number were struck with conviction ; among them, Miss Sally Roberts, afterwards the first wife of Hon. H. E. Smith, of Rochester, formerly of Fowlersville, New York, and Prince Benedict, known to hundreds. During his pastorate at Mendon, people, young and old, came on ordinary occasions to hear him from Victor, West and East Bloomfield, Perrington, Pittsford, Henrietta, Rush, Lima and Avon, varying from six to ten miles distant. Dr. Comstock, pastor of the Baptist church in Rochester, used to say, in pleasantry, when many of his congregation would go fourteen miles to hear Brother Weaver : "I guess we had better move our church out to Mendon, you like to go there to meeting so well, and so have but one pastor." 352 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. All his associates loved and respected him, though they were not blind to his faults and did not indorse all his methods. The following are among his cotemporaries : O. C. Comstock, father of the missionary ; Robert Powell, Philander Kelsey, Norman Bent ley, I. Roberts, Marvin Allen, Ichabod Clark, David and Jesse Corwiu, Alfred Bennett, John Peck, cousin of J. M. Peck ; Horace Griswold, Aristarchus Willey, Joseph and Jesse Elliott, Zenas Case and Martin Coleman. These men, all ministers, and mostly self-educated, were raised up by God to meet the then-existing state of things. They did their pioneer duty faithfully. Their fragrant memory is a rich heritage to the Church, Let their names forever be embalmed in grateful hearts — among them, let Weaver be remembered gratefully as long as any. He was their equal. REFLECTIONS — HOME AGAIN. 353 CHAPTER XXX. REFLECTIONS — HOME AGAIN. ¥HE friends and churches in Rochester responded cheerfully to the wants of the West. The new interest, called the East avenue church, did a noble thing, also the Lake avenue church. Both of these had but recently been organized. The pastors of the First and Second churches were absent, but promised to help in the future. At a prayer-meeting of the latter church, I took up a collection of thirty dollars, and a brother from Richmond, Virginia, gave me twenty-five dollars. I attended the Monroe Association, and then left for my Western home, expecting to make short stops on the way. In looking over this tour and visit, it is one of the most gratifying to me personally of any I ever made — as I was permitted to have more time in the immediate communities where I had labored most and longest, and as I went over the same ground 354 rK031 THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. where I had spent the days of my youth and the vigor of my manhood, and where I had a degree of success under the good Master's guiding hand and the influence of the Spirit. This reflection constantly impressed itself upon me, "What Divine goodness has followed you all the way in your life, even in the days 'of your guilt as an openly profane sinner and thoughtless wanderer from, a despiser of Jesus and His love to a lost world!" The only regret was, that I had made such poor improvement of the unnumbered blessings showered upon my pathway for over forty years of Christian life and public ministry. I had no good reason to complain in other respects. I had been kindly cared for, as a general rule. The brethren had always treated me with the greatest kindness and, in many instances, with needed leniency and Christian liberality. As I passed out of New York, I thought that, in all human probability, I should never see this land of my nativity again, until I should see it in its renovated condition, when "purified by fire" and our Jesus shall have come "the second time without sm unto salvation." I am now an old man, and cannot expect to come back again to this goodly old State, I thought, that REFLECTIONS ^HOME AGAIN. 355 gave me birth and a field to labor in ; and so I said "Farewell," as I gazed on her green hills to enter Pennsj'lvania on my homeward-bound journey to Kansas. I spent one Sabbath at Coldwater and at Kinderhook, and arrived safely in Burlington in time to vote for Ulyssus S. Grant. The contract for building the church edifice was made and the work commenced, to be completed in the February following, but the severity of the winter prevented. The first week of January, 1873, was observed, as is often the case, by a union of all the churches in the place in a meeting for special prayer in behalf of sinners. Some indications of the Divine presence were manifested and the meetings con- tinued. About this time, I went to Junction City to attend a public religious meeting ; and being earnestly solicited by Brother Greene and his church to remain and assist in conducting some special services, with a view of awakening an interest in the things of salvation among the impeni- tent, I consented. The meetings were protracted, day and night, for three or four weeks, with good results to many of the church and to a few impenitent persons, when my health became quite impaired, and I felt it my duty to return home. 356 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. [The preaching was most faithful and spiritual, and yet the results were not what we all had expected to see. There were some visible causes to prevent the accomplishment of the greatest good. The weather was, most of the time, severely cold. The house could not be made comfortable. Many, who would otherwise have been glad to come, remained away in consequence. The hidden causes of defeat in the case were undoubtedly still more potent, if possible — at least, it was not for lack of able, faithful preaching and personal effort at the time, that scores were not converted. May the seed sown in that inclement time yet bring forth a rich harvest. — Ed.] On my return home, I found the union meeting quite disturbed by a spirit of sectarian selfishness, quite out of character with the loud professions of love of "union" when the protracted effort was begun. One element of discord grew out of the views of one class of Christians in regard to the doctrine of personal holiness, this being made the '^all in all;" and another bone of contention was the control of the meeting, which was assumed by one denomination. This had alienated the other churches till it was thought best to separate, and let those work together who could in the spirit of the Gospel of peace. The work then took a new BEFLECTIONS — HOME AGAIN. 357 impetus, and continued till late in the spring. A large number were reclaimed who had become very remiss in religious duty, and a number of the impenitent converted to Jesus. Just as the meeting was at its height, I received a telegram from Central City, Colorado, urging me to come to the assistance of Reverend D. S. Bowker, up in the mountains of gold and silver. I responded in person. The great meeting in Denver, under the management of Reverend E. P. Hammond, had been in progress some time when 1 arrived there, on my way up to Central. I stopped only long enough to take the next train, but long enough to see that God was in the place in very deed, doing great things, whereof all Christians were glad. Denver had not entirely recovered from the "hardness" it had acquired during the early gold fever days ; so that a pro- tracted meeting could not be expected to have such sway as it would in a more moral and church-going town. However, in proportion to the organized religious forces in the city, undoubtedly as much was accom- plished in Denver during the weeks of Mr. Hammond's stay as in Keokuk, Iowa, in Blooming- 358 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. ton, Illinois, or Lawrence, Kansas. The city was shaken from center to circumference. The largest hall in the place was hardly sufficient to hold the crowds that pressed to hear the Word of Life preached and sung. The meeting held by special request of the proprietor in the most spacious and notorious dance-hall in the place one Sunday after- noon, when it was estimated that of the thousand present fully nine-tenths arose in response to the different invitations for prayer, is one never to be forgotten by those who had the privilege of being present. Mr. Hammond himself regarded it as one of the most solemn and powerful .meetings he ever attended. He was in the best of spirit for conducting such a strange meeting, being fresh bodily and being sustained by many earnest, praying Christians. The out-door meetings in Denver also were remarkable, many of them especially so in point of numbers and interest. Being present at nearly every meeting of the whole series during Mr. Hammond's stay, having been invited by Bro. Scott to assist in the meetings, I know that, under the circumstances, speculation and gambling being rife in the city and a general spirit of world- liness pervading society, the revival of 1873 was a REFLECTIONS HOME AGAIN. 359 great success. Hundreds were renewed m spirit, and became new men and women in Christ. [The revival spirit extended to Georgetown, Central and Golden, high up in the mountains, and to Boulder, Evans, Greeley, Colorado Springs and Pueblo, on the lower level. When we went to Central, we found Brother Stimson hard at work, with all the elasticity of spirit and hopefulness of a young man, in a series of meetings at the new chapel of the Baptist church. Brother Bowker pastor. Whoever has labored, even for a short time, in a mining town, knows something of the hardness of the field. A mining town difi'ers from all others. Of all difficult places to impress religiously, such a town is the most difficult ; so conceded by those of Avide experience. Anything for the greatest good, that is lawful and right, being Father Stimson's motto, he consented to the plan proposed of discontinuing his meetings in the Baptist house, and going in, for the time of his stay at least, with Brother Hammond. So, although the field didn't seem entirely clear, he took his place as a "high-private," and worked with all the sim- plicity and earnestness of a young convert. After Brother Hammond's short stay in Central was over. Father Stimson had so endeared himself to the people and commended himself to the leaders, that he was invited to remain and conduct the union meetings. This he did as long as they continued "union" meetings proper, much to the satisfaction of those responsible in the conduct of the efi'ort, 360 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. and to the awakening of sinners and the edification of the saints. The number of the latter in pro- portion to the population was not very great, and consequently their edification not a very long work. The awakening of the sinners was a much more tedious process. At the conclusion of the union effort, Brother Stimson began meetings again in Brother Bowker's chapel, which he conducted for a number of days, accomplishing no little good, and leaving a memory most fragrant among all good people. Mr. Hammond spoke to us in the highest terms of Father Stimson, whom he met for the first time during this winter's campaign in Colorado. He liked his spirit and admired his ability. It was on his strongly expressed advice on the subject of a suitable leader for the meeting in Central, as he was about to go, that Father Stimson was unanimously selected. From this lofty mountain town Father Stimson descended to the plain, and again found himself in Denver, where he was at once comfortably housed in Brother Scott's hospitable home, and where he found a most congenial atmosphere in which to work, side by side, with his young co -laborer of other days in Leavenworth and Kansas. The great union meetings in the evening at "Governor's Guard" Hall, had been discontinued on Mr. Hammond's departure for the mountain region of Central ; but Brother Stimson found a good state of revival interest in the meetings conducted by Brother Scott in his new lecture room just opened for worship. Here he remained and labored with great acceptance, pleas- ure and profit, for more than a week. The interest in the meeting increased during his stay. To the fact of this experienced help from Brother Stimson, REFLECTIONS — HOME AGAIN. 361 both timely and cordially rendered — whoever saw him when he wasn't ready to work in a revival? — and to the fact of the Christian shrewdness of Brother Scott as a leader, is largely due the great additional strength acquired by the Baptist cause in Denver during the winter and spring of 1873. His coming to Brother Scott at the time he descended from Central, was like "the coming of Titus." Afrer staying some days, and helping most efficiently in gathering up the crumbs that nothing might be lost, Father Stimson returned home with the consciousness of having helped the Denver pastor do successfully that most difficult work, — close a long and deeply interesting protracted meet- ing, in a way to counteract none of the good accomplished, and bearing with him the blessings of hundreds who had met him for the first time during this working visit. He began at once to complete the meeting house at Burlington, and to make the arrangements for dedication. A few months were sufficient, and the neat little structure was added to the monuments of Father Stimson's zeal, enterprise and faith. To build a little house in a little place is often more of an undertaking than to build a large edifice in a large place. There is so little capital to work with — there are so few really independent workers — the pastor has often to create and sustain all the enthusiasm, besides doing three-fourths of the planning and engineering, not to mention the actual manual labor. The enterprise at Burlington was no exception. It's no reflection on the one or two male workers and the six or seven poor widows in the church, to say that if it had not been for Brother Stimson, or if his place had not been supplied by some equally hopeful and courageous 362 FKOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. pastor, the church would not now have a house of worship or any immediate prospect of one. And in the midst of hard times the outlook would not be very cheering. A fitting close of an earnest, practi- cal life, is the beautiful little chapel at Burlington, an account of the dedication of which we copy from the Kansas Evangel^ a paper which in its infancy has done much for the cause in Kansas, and which is one of the brightest stars of hope for the future. —Ed.] The new Baptist meeting house at Burlington was dedicated on Sabbath, July 20th. It was a lovely day, and every arrangement was complete. No apologies for faifure had to be made. A novel plan was hit upon, which we will charge up against Brother Stimson, pastor, for conducting the services. We will say to begin with, it was a success. It was understood by all the denominations in the place (and they have as many as any tawnr-in Kansas,) that the Baptists would monopolize the whole Sabbath services of the town. Accordingly, appointments were made for two services at the same hour, both morning and evening, one at the Methodist Episcopal church, and the ministers to alternate in the services. Brother Gunn, of Atchison, and the Topeka pastor were the preachers. The congregations were large, and Brother Gunn's sermons, at least, were good. The new church is a fine, proud structure, 32x55 feet in size, with arched ceiling and well furnished and located. A new organ, chande- liers, a cosy orchestra, fine pulpit, baptistry, and carpets for the aisles, make up some of the furniture. It is, in brief, the neatest church in the place. The church membership is only about twenty, and none of them wealthy ; the most of them poor. As we listened to the story of their struggles to build this house for the Lord, we could but thank God that He had given to His cause there such noble representatives. Brother Stimson, though having reached his three score years and ten, is still brave as a warrior, and is hardly conscious of his failing strength. Through his efforts, principally, the work has been done. What he could not get others to do, he did himself. The high esteem in which he is held by the community gave him courage, and enabled him to succeed. REFLECTIONS HOME AGAIN. 363 "We must mention in particular, among other faithful workers, Brother "William "Wigston, a mason by trade, who was Brother Stim- son's right hand man. Before he came to Burlington, he took the contract to build the abutments of a bridge across the Ohio river. He then promised the Lord that whatever he made out of the contract, above common wages, he would give to Him. The Lord blessed him. After finishing the job, he decided to come to Burlington. Before reaching there, he sent forward a beautiful Bible, hymn book and communion set. Trye to his promise, when he arrived he at once put $500 cash into this meeting house, besides building the foundation and putting in the baptistry. He is now sexton, and delights in giving much of his time to the service of the Lord. Would that our churches had more of such men. At the close of the morning service, the pastor read a statement rela- tive to the financial condition of the church. It was found that the house had cost $2,800, acd that a balance of $800 remained unprovided for. Collections and pledges were taken sufficient to reduce this amount to $500. We left this little band hopeful, having received a fresh inspiration to work from the example set by the Burlington Church. 364 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. CHAPTER XXXI. MY VIEWS OF THE INDIANS — ^MISCELLANY. vjJeFORE I came to Kansas, I had an exalted -L>^ idea of the character of the American Indian as a noble specimen of human nature. In some respects he really is so ; as for instance , in his native condition, as a muscular and well built anim'al, capable of great endurance, and a "good feeder." He has intellect sufficient to be cunning, and to make a first-class tyrant in any situation where he has the chance. With an Indian, "might is right." Hence all the females, in every tribe I have seen or heard of, the mothers, wives and daughters are the most abject slaves, compelled to do all the drudgery in the wigwam and on the hunt ; see to all the ponies, bring all the wood and water, dress all the game, tan all the buffalo hides, and take care of the papooses besides. A professed Christian Indian acts like all the rest in these respects. The Osage Indians are doubtless the best developed specimens MY VIEWS OF THE mDIANS. 365 in a physical point of view, of all the tribes in Kan- sas. And they are an unrelenting, revengeful set of savages, never forgiving a real or supposed injury. I once had occasion to be among them three or four days, and got perfectly cured of all my notions of Indian superiority, Fenimore Cooper and the Quaker peace agents to the contrary notwithstand- ing. I shall waste but few more tears over their condition, at my time of life. I hope they will all inherit "happy hunting grounds" when they are through with the chase here. Only I am thankful that I am not called to labor to prepare them for the enjoyment of those grounds. I don't think I ever had the faith to work forty years and see no fruit of my labor. The Modocs are no exception to the general Indian rule. A gentlemanly Indian agent had invited a number of friends to go with him and his escort to the Osage Reserve, as he Was going to pay the annuities. So, several ladies and gentlemen of us started on a pleasure trip. Probably none of them will ever want to go on a similar pleasure excursion, espe- cially the ladies. If you refuse to eat with an Indian when he has made a feast, he won't forgive the insult without a large present of some kind. 366 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. The feast on this occasion was dried buffalo meat, strong coffee, aad biscuits made of the best of flour and baked before the fire on sheet-iron pans. These biscuits were the only thing we relished, and we ceased to relish them after we saw the squaws mix them up. We never took a second meal with as much appetite as the first. The dried meat is cut into fine pieces, put into a kettle and then boiled in water, thickened with flour till it is of the consis- tency of soup. This is turned into a large pan, around which all the company sit on the grass, and help themselves by dishing out the mixture with their spoons. No plates. Indians, white men and women, compose the company. No squaws. The coffee is dipped off as you need it in little tin cups. After the Indians (squaws are simply squaws) and the guests are served, the squaws and papooses have their meal, if there is any left — and by eating all, including coffee-grounds, no matter how much is left. Then the dogs come up and wash the dishes, and all is ready for the next meal. I wished to post the ladies of the company on all the facts of Indian life, and told them of the assis- tance the dogs rendered at each meal. They at once begged to be excused from appearing at table MY VIEWS OF THE INDIANS. 367 a second time. We excused them; but if the Indians did, we never knew it. They inquired for the "(7a7i a mah pojpo''' — the pretty women. One of the party told a lie by saying that they were sick in the wagons. At which the chief said : "Eat too much, ha?" Our friend nodded "yes." I forgave the lie, and that was just as well as if Father Schoemaker, the Catholic priest, had done it. The women certainly were sick at their stomachs whenever they thought of eating with the Indians. This Father Schoemaker has been among them over forty years. He is a quaint character, old but vigorous. He belongs to the Jesuits. He has given names to streams and other natural objects in the region of the Mission, and has built some very substantial buildings for the uses of his church ; but, although the Mission has been established forty-eight years, and every possible appliance has been used to civilize and educate and Jesuitize this tribe, yet, up to this time, not the first son or daughter of the Osages has been converted to Christianity, or even to Catholicism I I mean a full-blooded Osage. A few French traders have been adopted into the tribe, and have married Osage 368 FKOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. women. Their children have become Catholics, but not civilized. If the gray-haired monk of a priest who hums his Catholic songs about his secluded home in the forest, takes any comfort at the retro- spect of a long life spent among the Indian tribe with the results such as I have indicated, he is not begrudged it by me. I wouldn't disturb his dream. The Government has been induced to give this old man a section of land for his services at the Osage Mission, now in Neosho County ! It is understood he began his labors among the tribe by telling them that Jesus was a great war Chief, and his apostles "braves," who accomplished great exploits in the slaughter of their enemies. The results have been little or no more cheering where the Gospel has been preached to them, I am compelled to say. Efforts have been made to educate them in the rudiments — reading, writing and arithmetic ; and yet, not one in ^ve hundred can do the simplest example in addition or subtraction. Still, this old Jesuit must be made a beneficiary of the Govern- ment to the amount of several hundred thousand dollars in all ! I blush to say that the effects of the Protestant labors among the Indians have not been much more encouraging. The mission among MY VIEWS OF THE INDIANS. 369 the Sacs and Fox tribes by the Methodists, and the Delawares by the Baptists, have been a little more successful than such efforts generally. Rev. G. W. Pratt, now of Leavenworth, accomplished a good work in the latter tribe, as long as he remained among them. The same is true of the Ottawas, for whom Father Meeker, a godly man, labored for thirty years.* But, as the white man came in with whisky and its fore-runner, beer, the whole tribe apostatized to drunkenness and a life of laziness ; and, although the Baptist denomination and the United States Government expended great sums of money to civilize and Christianize them, all that remains is the remnant of the school proj^erty at Ottawa and a little quarter-blood Indian girl, who hears her voice echo through those halls of "lite- rature and science." If the missionaries now in Kansas, working industriously and self-denyingly among the enter- prising immigrants in our new cities and settlements which will soon be an honor to the nation and humanity, were to make no more permanent, prac- * The press that S. S. Prouty used in printing the Neosho Valley Register, in 1859, was brought to this country by Father Meel^er, forty years ago 370 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. tical impression on the white inhabitants, the societies they represent would withhold all support. They don't come far short of it, in some cases, now. The philosophy of the Indian nature, I do not attempt to explain. I do know this much : First, The Indian has no relish for intellectual improvement or moral advancement. He loves whisky, tobacco and all such vile stimulants. Second, He will not work, under any circum- stances. Even those who have been claimed as partially civilized, will not labor. Third, The large majority of the Government agencies among them have only tended to increase their savage, hopeless life. Fourth, The exceptions found to the above esti- mate of Indian character are persons who have some white blood in their veins, like Eli S. Parker, a noble man. Show me an exception among pure- bloods ! In view of all I have seen and learned of the Indian, I am half inclined to believe in Darwin : at least I should not have blamed him much if he had come into personal contact with the Indian before bringing out his "development theory." Fifth, Gratitude is not found in the Indian's vocabulary, nor is it an element of his nature. An MISCELLANY. 371 Indian never considers himself under obligations to any one. I have entertained Indians in the most hospitable manner I was capable of under the circumstances, giv^iug him the best my home afforded, and then in a few days called on him and remamed over night, and in the morning have paid a bill of two dollars and fifty cents for the entertainment. THE MAN WHO FOUND OUT THAT HE COULD ANSWER HIS OWN PRAYERS. Deacon W , of B , in Western New York, a good Christian man, but somewhat formal and prolix in his family devotions, was more orthodox than practical in his Christianity. One morning while at family prayer, there came to the door a poor man with a bag under his arm, to get from the deacon a small grist of wheat for his needy family. It was a time of great scarcity in breadstuffs. While listening to the deacon's supplication, which included among other good things, a request that the Lord would remember the poor in the place that were in want of bread, his courage and confidence grew apace. Bis soul was filled with gratitude and hope, 372 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. as he stood and listened to the words of the deacon : "Now, O Lord, open thy hand, and in thy ever liberal Providence, supply the wants of the needy, feed the hungry and clothe the naked. Thou canst do it. Almighty Father, as giving dost not impov- erish Thee. There are many in our commimity sick, and many poor that are suffering for bread. O, Lord, supply them in the riches of thy fullness, for Christ's sake. Amen." Poor Mr. J , who had stood at the door all this time, could but weep as he heard the words of the deacon, a member with him of the same church, and he said to himself, "I shall get the wheat;" at the same time thanking God that he belonged to a church that had such a sympathizing deacon. He rapped on the door and was admitted. After answering kind inquiries about his sick wife and little ones, he made known the object of his visit — he wished to get a grist of wheat. "Well, well. Brother J , I should like to accommodate you, but wheat is two dollars a bushel in Eochester, and I think I must raise some money in a few days. I am sorry I can't help you in your time of great want while your family is sick; but I wish you could get it somewhere else." Mr. J went MISCELLANY. 373 away with a heavy heart, having suddenly lost his confidence in the deacon's sincerity. A little fair-haired, black-eyed grandson that had been kneeling with his grand-parent and heard him pray for the poor, looked up in his face and said, "Well, Grandpa, if I could have answered my prayer this morning as easy as you could, I would have given Mr. J a bag full of wheat." "Would you, Charley?'' inquired the old man. "Yes, I would, because that is what you asked the Lord to do." " Call him back, Charley." Mr. J returned, and the deacon handed him the granary key and said, "Go to the barn and fill youi- bag. Brother J , and if you want anything while your family is sick, come here and get it. I have just found out that I can answer my own prayers, and shall endeavor to do it the remainder of my short life." On Sabbath he arose in his place in the meeting house, after sermon, and asked the pastor if he could have the privilege of speaking. Of course consent was given, and he related the facts as above stated, and concluded by sayuig, "I have just learned by this incident that God has so arranged His divine economy as to enable me and others to answer our own prayers in five cases out of eight." 374 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. A SHORT WAY WITH A SKEPTIC. An old infidel asked me once to explain the reason why God made the children of Israel travel forty years in the wilderness, when they could hare crossed to the promised land in four days and a half ? I told him I would think the matter over, and call on him with a solution of the matter in a few days, and then, turning on my heel, said I would also give him a question to answer at the same time, or now. "It is this : Anatomical professors tell us that the canals in the human body are about nine yards in length. Now, I want you to explain to me why they should be crossing backward and for- ward through the chest and abdomen to twenty- seven feet in length, when one straight canal about twenty-two inches long would have answered?" "Well, Elder, you have got me. I will quit if you wiU." THE EFFECT OF A PERSONAL APPLICATION OF THE TRUTH. I went to assist a Brother S in Western New York, where a deacon had struck a neighbor's hog and killed it ; but he would not confess it or pay the damage. The pastor and best members of the MTSCELLAKY. 375 church were greatly grieved, all being confident that he was guilty. But it could not he proved, as two trials had been held — one by the church and one by a legal court — all to no purpose. The deacon was quite officious, always in the front seat, ready to exhort, to sing or pray ; and every time he would begin to speak or pray, the man whose hog the deacon had killed would get up and go out, along with a number of personal friends who sympathized with him in his hatred of the deacon. By and by, when the deacon was through, they would all come back and take their seats. I had heard of these movements before from a minister who had been there on a visit, and gone away mortified at the ill success of the effort made, and indignant at the obstinate deacon. I got there on Saturday afternoon, and took a survey of the situation at the evening meeting. I was satisfied from what I saw, who the man, Deacon S , was. That night I found the pastor and his wife all weighed down like a cart with sheaves, on account of the state of things in the church. Sabbath came and passed, with about the same results. The evening was approaching, and the thought of having one man block up the way of 376 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. salvation to a church, while smuers were looking on with a degree of triumph over the inconsistency and open wickedness of one of the members, pressed upon me with great weight. The question had become a serious one with me, "Can I do or say an}i;hing to make this faulty brother do right, and remove this awful stone of stumbling? What shall I preach about?" I finally fixed upon this passage in the fifty-first Psalm, verses 10, 11, 12 and 13: "Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me. Cast me not from thy presence ; and take not thy Holy Spirit from me. Restore unto me the joy of thy salvation ; and uphold me with thy free Spirit. Then will I teach trangressors thy ways ; and sinners shall be con- verted unto thee." I went on to show what a wicked man David was on one occasion, even after Grod had called him "a man after His own heart." I was about to close and saw that the deacon was as unmoved as a stone, although the rest of the con- gregation were manifesting the deepest interest. "Is it possible," I thought, "that I must close this sermon and meetino: this evenino^ and the deacon remain impenitent for his wrong, and the man he had injured go to hell over his obstinate conduct?" MISCELLANT. 377 I leaned over the high desk and addressed myself personally to the deacon thus: "Now, Deacon S , as you love the salvation of your neighbor A from eternal perdition, and as you killed his hog', and you know that all your brethren believe you did, go this minute to him and confess your sin, and ask his forgiveness. Don't let one miserable swine keep you from the smiles of Jesus, and Mr. A out of the blessed Kingdom." And while I was yet speaking, he arose and went to A , took him by the hand and made a full con- fession of all, saying, "Neighbor A , I killed your hog and I am sorry for it. I hope you will forgive me. And if you will come to my house to-morrow, I will pay you the full worth of the hog and the cost of the suit." A broke down, acknowledged himself a sinner, and was soon believ- ing in Jesus as his Savior. This was the starting point of a great work. I staid and preached day and night for five weeks. The pastor baptized more than eighty who were converted during the meeting ; and the church was restored to harmony. 378 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPlT TAKING A MAN AT HIS WORD. When I had returned to reside in Warsaw the second time, there was still living in that community an old friend, who was addicted to coining jokes on the nunisters, if practical jokes, all the better. I met him in the village one day, and asked him if I could get some hay of him, it being haying time. "Well, yes, Elder, you come up with your wife and make us a visit, and I will put in all the hay you can carry home in your buggy. I don't expect to get anything out of ministers for hay, as they hardly ever pay for anything of the kind, even if they agree to." "Well, Mr. B.," I said, "I hardly think Mrs. Stimson would be willing to ride with a bundle of hay, but I will come up with a one-horse wagon and get a "bundle" when it is cut. When shall I come?" "Next Monday, if it don't rain." So I went and got a large one-horse lumber wagon, and put on a common two horse hay rack. I had a heavy, stout horse that weighed about twelve hundred. So oflf I started with a boy to help me load. The hay was all put up in the nicest order in the meadow. I had loaded on eleven big bunches when Mr. B. came up, and after surveying the whole establishment, said: "That's what you call a buggy, MISCELLANY. 379 is it?'* "It's a one-horse wagon, Mr. B., and thafs what I told you I should come with." So he took hold nud helped me. We turned to the next row of bunches, and put on eleven more, makhig twenty- two in all. "There," said he, "go ahead; but you will never get home with it, and if you don't, you shall pay for it." When I got to the village, I had it weighed. It made just twenty-two hundred and fifty weight. Mr. B. has not yet heard the last of the "bundle" of hay in a one-horse wagon, and has concluded to "come" no more dry jokes on poor ministers. I HAVE OBSERVED that there are two things about which the mass of mankind are determined to be humbugged, Religion and Medicine. A religion of fanatical incantations, Mormonism, Spiritualism, Universalism, Heathenism and Devil- ism, all cater to the vitiated tastes and depraved desires of poor human nature. And men naturally appear to prefer any one of these to a knowledge of the "Truth as it is in Jesus," that is pure and unde- filed, and that is consistent with good common sense and sound judgment. 380 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. The same is true in regard to Medicine. Men will employ quack physicians, and take quack nos- trums, much sooner than take really useful remedies. I heard a doctor of the quack school tell a family that had a sick daughter, that her complaint was of the heart, ^. e. "the heart-string had become so relaxed and elongated, that the heart had fallen down below its proper place, and as it swung back and forth like a clock-pendulum, it struck on the sides of her chest and produced a soreness ; " and as a remedy he prescribed what he called "pucker root" and alum, sweetened with honey, to contract the heart-string. The dear family thought he under- stood the case exactly. The next week the poor sufferer died, and I attended her funeral. I thought he ought to be classed with "Dr. Terrible," who, it is said, bled the devil, using a pickaxe for a lancet. I HAVE OBSERVED, and am convinced, that rich ministers are, as a general thing, a drug upon the church and congregation. If they are able to preach to the church for nothing, they become indolent, penurious and sleepy. I never knew of a church that paid their minister up promptly, that was not MISCELLANY. 381 happy and prosperous. A church that is always pleading as an excuse for not giving to charitable objects, that they must pay their minister first, but that are constantly in debt to him and the sexton, is a church the poor in which are obliged to take care of themselves, or go to the poor-house. Persons that come late to church are tlie first to complain of long sermons ; and those that sleep in sermon time are the first to detect the defects in the discourse. ELDER JACOB KNAPP IN ROCHESTER. I was present in the meeting at the First Baptist church in Eochester, New York, that Brother Knapp was conducting, and as many have regarded the "lightning" story as an exaggeration, I feel called upon to confirm the facts as related in his autobiog- raphy, edited by Dr. R. Jeffery. It is true in all its particulars. The first volley of brickbats had been thrown at the church. The pulpit then stood in the end next to the street, with a large window behind it ; so that the mob had a fair chance at the person of the preacher, whom they hated with a cruel hatred. The most blinding lightning that I ever 382 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. remember to have seen, flashed at the very moment, flooding the whole of Fitzhugh and Buffalo streets with a blaze of light, accompanied with the most stunning thunder-burst. The mob fled in such haste that not ten of them were left in the street in five minutes' time. To saint and sinner it was evident that God had interposed to defend His truth, and the preacher from violence. PASTORATES. I have been pastor of fourteen churches in forty- three years, and have had a salary all the way fr©m one hundred and fifty dollars to sixteen hundred dollars per year. I have never been able to discover the difference between a small one and a large one. Each would come out about the same. Perhaps the large one was a little more gratifying to my family. WHAT GOD HAS DONE FOR ME AND BY ME IN FORTY YEARS. I have preached over ten thousand sermons, such as they have been. I have baptized eighteen hun- dred and eighty-seven professed believers in Jesus, MISCELLANY. 383 the Savior of sinners ; among that number, fifteen ministers, three of them Pedobaptists, two Meth- odists, and one Presbyterian. I have attended six hundred and thirty-four funerals. I have solemnized four hundred and twenty-eight marriages. I have been present at one hundred and fifty-four ordina- tions and organizations of Baptist churches. I have voted for President of the United States from Gen- eral Andrew Jackson to Grant, nine in all. I didn't vote for all that were elected ! I am thankful for that. My sins are so many less, as there have been worthless men among the nine. I have assisted more than three hundred poor fleeing fugitives, from the house of bondage of Southern slavery into Canada, and in many instances at the risk of being imprisoned for the violation of the fugitive slave law, for which a wicked, pro-slavery congress was guilty. And I would do the same thing to-morrow, under the same circumstances. So miich for repentance on that subject. I HAVE TRAVELED in tweuty-two of the States of the Union, in both the Canadas and in "New Jersey" — in all, miles enough to girdle the earth four times. I have preached in them all, except 384 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. Texas — and there I was not permitted to remain long enough, as the rebel "bushwhackers" cared more for our horses and watches than for our Gospel. We thought, as the lame captain expressed it, "Doubtless there is to be a great battle, and as we shall have to retreat in the end, therefore, as I am lame, I will go now." So we left Texas as soon as good horses would convey us out safely into Kansas. What I saw of it, convinced me that it was then not a good State to be in, except for cattle and horse-thieves. And I have had no special desire to return. A MODERN ZACCHEUS. In one of our precious revivals in Western New York, a time when all the community were spell- bound by the Spirit of God, a case occurred similar to the one when Jesus was on earth, recorded in Luke xix. 5-6 : "And when Jesus came to the place. He looked up, and saw him, and said unto him, Zaccheus, make haste, and come down ; for to-day I must abide at thy house." "And he made haste, and came down, and received Him joyfully," MISCELLANY. 385 A young gentleman, of high standing among his friends and the wealthy, was an attendant upon the meeting in progress. He became quite affected and solemn, but for a long time made no effort to come out boldly and confess Christ. One afternoon, just after the meeting had opened, he sent up to the desk a short notice y requesting the pastor to go with him to the study, as he wished to see him on important business at once. I left the meeting in charge of a deacon, and retired to the study, as requested. He commenced by saying, as soon as we took our seats : "Mr. Stimson, the facts I am about to divulge will ruin me for this life and perhaps for the life to come. It is this : I was a clerk in a store in the city of — — , State of Michigan ; and while there employed, I was guilty of purloining some very costly silks and satins, which I have now in my trunk, as I have never had an opportunity of disposing of them; being, too, under the constant impression that I should be detected if I offered them for sale. Now, God, by His Spmt and the truth, has arrested me, and four long weeks I have been like a man on coals of fire. Now, I ask you, as my pastor, what to do ; and I will do it, if it disgraces me and my family, and I have to lie in 386 FKOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. the State's prison for years, I will do it ; for to live under this burden of mind, I cannot any longer. To me it is a living death, by day and by night." I was overwhelmed and amazed at the confession of the young merchant, as he was then a partner in a thriving business in the village. I locked the door, and then engaged in a moment of prayer with him. When we arose from our knees, I said : "Now, my young friend, you go and get your trunk, with the goods in it, and start for Michigan at once ; and when you arrive at the place, call the firm together, and, without gloss or guile, confess your sin, and throw yourself upon their clemency, and be prepared to take what follows." He at once said, "I will do it." At his request, I wrote a letter to the parties wronged, stating the circumstances of his confession and of his relations in life and business standing. I then sent him with a boy to drive my buggy to the depot, four miles away. The next day he arrived at the place of his destina- tion, restored the goods and made an unvarnished confession, and received a full pardon from the parties. These Christian gentlemen, for such they were, wrote me a most cordial and Christian letter, in which they expressed confidence in the ^eep MISCELLANY. 387 repentance of the young man ; and said that they had not missed the goods, and never should have known of his thieving, if he had not confessed it. He soon came before the church, related his expe- rience, expressing himself as a great sinner against God. To this day, he is an exemplary, honorable Christian man in one of the Eastern cities. How much better and wiser the course of this young man, than that pursued by many, who, rather than expose themselves and their fellow-men, go on with a canker constantly eating away at their souls ; feeling every moment that God is against them, being cognizant of all the facts of their wickedness, and Jesus continually inviting to come down and give them entertainment in the homes of their hearts. Those who comply, find pardon and peace. Near twenty years have passed, and no one has ever known the above facts but the parties concerned. I can keep a secret, if I never have joined a secret lodge. 388 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. CHAPTER XXXn. SERMONS — ALMOST A CHRISTLO^. "Then Agrippa said unto Paul, Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian. " And Paul said, I would to God, that not only thou, but also all that hear me this day, were both almost, and altogether such as I am, except these bonds."— Acts xxvi. 28-29. MAN is a religious being. Religion is an inherent principle in his nature, raising him above all other animal tribes. His instincts and aspirations place him on an altitude above all the residents of earth. Being a religious intelligence, he is possessed of all the endowments of immor- tality. He is responsible for his conduct to the remotest limit of its influence. K it were not for his upward instincts, his degradation would be hopeless. If he didn't care for immortality, he would be beyond moral reach. Men are compelled unwittingly to pay tribute and respect to the Christian religion, even when they SERMONS. 389 know nothing by experience of its real merits. Thus, Agrippa, his heathen conscience stirred by Paul's masterly defense of its great fundamental truths, cried out : "Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian." Men have only to let go their hold on sin and let their principles, which are at best but little better than sins, fly to the wuids, and multitudes would be led to make the same excla- mation, and to look at the cross by faith, which would result in making them Christians altogether. Let us proceed to notice : I. What constitutes a Christian in reality. n. What is it to become almost a Christian, and yet fail. m. Persuasion for all men to become Christians in fact. 1. A Christian is a regenerated sinner. The Holy Spirit regenerated him. There can be no substitute for regeneration. Very many are deceived by human substitutes. As one says : "I am a Christian by birthright. My parents had me bap- tized in my infancy. I have learned the catechism and keep the law of our church, and have been confirmed as a true child of God by the bishop or priest." All this gives no claim to being a Christian, 390 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT and is a trap of Satan to deceive and ruin the souls of men. There must be a radical change of his entire moral nature. He must be born again, as John says, i. 12, 13 : "But as many as received Him, to them gave He power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on His name : "Which were bom, not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God.'' Jesus taught the same doctrine to Nicodemus (John iii. 3, 4, 5) : "Jesus answered and said unto him. Verily, verily, I say unto thee. Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God. "Nicodemus saith unto Him, How can a man be born when he is old ? Can he enter the second time into liis mother's womb, and be born? "Jesus answered, Yerily, verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be born of water and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God." This, beloved, is the only way of making a Christian in reality. This work of the Spirit will manifest itself in repentance of sin, by faith in the Son of God, and in obedience to the law of His Gospel. This will make a man a Christian in fact. SERMONS. 391 He will be a new creature. "Therefore, if any man he in Christ, he is a new creature : old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new." (II Cor. v. 17.) He will be a Christian in reality, and not by any mummery of human invention. 2. A Christian is controlled in his conduct by principle and not by emotion. Multitudes act from the emotional part of their nature, and deceive themselves by thinking that this emotion is a ground of belief that they are Christians. Nothing is more delusive and destructive of their present and eternal interest in Christ. Religion is a principle^ and all the duties of a religious life must have their base in it. Emotional religion is a prolific source of apostacy from Christ and the Church. Many ministers of Christ contribute to this state of things seen so often in the declension of those who "did run well," by saying, in sub- stance, "get up your feelings, and then go to work for Grod." Thus, many are waiting for the tide of their emotion to rise and their zeal to be inflated, so that they can float into religious enjoyment; when the great efibrt should be to get down upon the solid rock of pure Christian principle, of "Christ in you the hope of glory." 392 FPwOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. Far be it from me to say anything against emotion. It acts upon the Christian as a fair breeze does upon the ship ; it helps it into port. With a favoring wind he sings : " Homeward bound, Homeward bound.'* But if his ship is unsound in the hull, every increas- ing breeze only makes her creak, and hastens its destruction. It is a sorry case to have the wind blow fair and to be constantly crying to the men at the pumps : "Heave ho ! boys, heave ho ! boys, we shall all go to the bottom if you don't work the pumps." So it is with your sentimental professor, who is void of true principle, based on Christ's finished work of atonement. 3. A true Christian applies himself to the work of Christ in doino^ somethino^ and all he can to extend His Kingdom among men. He will seek out opportunities to develop the power of the Gospel. To him the world is the field, and while he is in it he will find something to do in the private interview, in the family, in the Sunday school, in the prayer- meeting, sowing beside all waters. He will get good by doing good. The best proof of one's Christianity, consists in appljdng one's self to Christ's work. SERMONS. 393 We have now seen what a Christian is in reality. Let us ask, II. What it is to be almost a Christian, and yet fail? A person, having his birth and being in a country where the Gospel is proclaimed in ajl its fullness, and where he has enjoyed the constant means of salvation, being still without hope in Christ, the Savior of sinners, may be said to be "almost a Christian." A stranger to human depravity and to the obstinate state of mind to which the sinner is habituated, would say, in looking at the sweet, heavenly influences by which they are surrounded : these, who hear oft-repeated invitations to embrace Christ, who are the objects of the wooings of the Spirit of God, surely are all Christians. But, what is the fact? Only almost, not quite yet possessed of a good hope, not quite yet destitute of a good hope. They can say, the land that gave me birth is denominated a " Christian " country ; and yet, the truth remains they are "without God and without hope in the world" — almost Christians, but making the sad failure of neglecting the one thing needful in the very midst of the richest privileges. Not to be able to say, "I know that my Kedeemer 394 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. liveth," is to make the fatal mistake of all time, is to come short of the end of creation. 2. There are very many who acknowledge the cardinal truths of the Bible, the reality of heaven, the awful existence of hell and the propriety of a coming judgment day, in which all the world are to be judged ; they attend upon the ordinary and even extraordinary means of grace, and yet have never yielded to the claims of the Gospel, and are only almost Christians. "His Spirit has striven with me by day and by night. His people have prayed for me, and companions that loved Him have invited me, my Christian parents have wept over me, I have had my foot on the very threshold of the Kingdom of the blessed Church of Christ, and yet I have no abiding evidence that I have been regenerated by the Spirit of God ; no comforting assurance of connection with Jesus.; I am only almost a Christian. I have only desired heaven as a refuge into which to escape from the storm of indignant wrath that will one day overtake me ; a retreat to keep me out of perdition. I have no relish for the society of the pure in heart that surround the throne of God and the Lamb. I was almost a Christian once, but I have made a sad failm-e, an eternal fail- SER3IONS. 395 lire." This, doubtless, will be the regret of many. They will have to appropriate the language of one of old, *The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and I am not saved.' Procrastination and the love of sin have kept me in the state of being almost a Christian. Pauline Colburn was a young lady brought up under the most sweet influences of a kind and relig- ious family, and often the subject of deep impres- sions of her condition as a sinner out of Christ. Constant in her place in the house of God ; every Sabbath joining her voice in the songs of worship ; she often told me as her pastor, that she meant to yield to the claims of the blessed Jesus. So tender were her feelings, that one would think she was not far from the kingdom of God, only not quite ready to offer herself up unto the Master then and there. She was in the gallery on Sunday, and sang as sweetly as ever. She wept while in conversation, but hesitated, and went home. On Monday morning she arose from the breakfast table, and retired to her room, exclaiming : "I have been almost a Christian, but never loved Christ ; now I am dying," and in five minutes she was a corpse. Almost a Christian I Poor girl ! Almost a Christian ! But let us conclude by noticing : 396 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO TIHE PULPIT. III. The Persuasions presented for all men to become Christians. ^ 1. Sin in its very nature and tendency is destruc- tive of all human happiness, present and prospective. God hath said : "There is no peace to the wicked." How true this is in all the history of sin and sinners ! We have a way of graduating sin. "Small sins," "little sins," are every day spoken of among men. It is well to remember that : " Sin is the transgres- sion of the Law," and the Law is a transcript of the perfections of Deity. Sin, then, is the violation of God's own rights as our King, Law-giver, Father and Redeemer. So then, he that sins is contending against the Almighty. Beloved, do not let us talk about "little sins." No one ever became an outra- geous sinner at once. It is sinning by degrees that auo^ments us into incorrio:ible sinners. In the British navy a ship was ordered so con- structed that every timber in it should undergo a strict inspection, and no stick should be used in this war structure that was the least defective. A car- penter was at work on a huge oak beam, into which he thrust the point of his scratch-awl. He at once called the attention of the inspector to the defect. He came and examined it, and turned SERMONS. 397 away, saying, '*It is nothing but a little worm hole. It never can do any damage." The noble ship was completed, rigged and furnished with every appoint- ment for a long voyage, with a noble staff of officers and seamen. But when far out on old ocean, she was found to be weak in an important place. Search was made, and to the astonishment of all, it was found out that the timber with a little worm hole was now perforated through and through with worm holes, and was but little better than a stick of sand. It was so placed as to receive the greatest strain. Orders were given to steer for the nearest port. But soon a storm came on, and the two combined forces of wind and wave grappled with it, and the new ship, staunch and strong as all supposed, was conquered. It became the victim of the sea. It went to the bottom, carrying all on board but three, to tell the sad tale of the disaster caused by the little worm hole. Precious lives and costly freight go to the bottom continually in the great world from just such insignificant causes. Sin that may at the time be but little, if not repented of will bring destruction like a whirlwind, and send the sinner to the bottom of the great abyss beyond the hope of recovery. Little sins and 398 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. great sins are of the same family. One has grown to great proportions. The other is growing. Then be persuaded to break off your sins by turning to Jesus, in whom alone all true happiness and all safety are found. 2. 'AH men are persuaded to become Chris- tians by the consideration of what Christ has accomplished. The love of God in giving the Son of His love, is an incentive of the highest order. It not only claims your attention, but it demands your admiration and homage. God so loved the world of sinners. "/S'o" — that little word "50/" Oh, sinner, I wish you and I under- stood it ! So loved the sinner as to give His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him might not perish but have everlasting life. And then, in addition to all this, consider the appliances and influences set at work to persuade you to yield to the claims of the Gospel : "For the love of Christ constraineth us ; because we thus judge, that if one died for all, then were all dead." The love of Christ urges you to stop and think how much Jesus has suffered for you. Were there ever love like His? 'Tor God is love." (i. John iv. 8.) All His per- fections and procedures are but so many modifica- SERMONS. 399 tions of his love. What is His omnipotence but the arm of His love ? What is His omniscience but the medium through which he contemplates the objects of His love ? What is His wisdom but the scheme of His love? What are the offers of the Gospel but the invitations of His love ? What the threatenings of the law but the warnings of His love? They are the hoarse voice of His love, say- ing, "Man, do thyself no harm." They are a fence thrown around the pit of destruction, to prevent rash men from rushing into ruin. What was the incarnation of the Savior but the richest illustration of His love? What were the miracles of Christ but the condescensions of His love? What were the prayers of Christ but the pleadings of His love ? What were the tears of Christ but the dew-drops of His love ? What is this earth but the theater for a display of His love ? What is heaven but the Alps of His mercy, from whose summits His blessings, flowing down in a thousand streams, descend to water and refresh His Church, situated at its base ? Stop a moment, and consider what the Spirit is doing for your enlightenment to make you see the depravity of your nature. Unnumbered influences at work to lead you in a way you know not ! Pray- 400 FKOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. ing friends are daily and nightly weeping at a mercy seat, saying, "Spare, O Lord, O spare my son or my daughter from going down to the pit ! " And then think of what's only a little in advance for you to meet — one of two vast considerations : a heaven of light and uncreated glory, where Beauty and Purity, Holiness, Goodness, in fact everything to increase one's happiness with the good of all ages ; and the consideration of being without any interest in Jesus, without one assurance that you have accepted the proffered pardon. You will have to say, "I must be deprived of the associations of all Christian friends, and never see the face of the Crucified One." 3. The vast future in ^ which all your interests are concealed. Eternity ! Eternity ! There your best friends have taken up their abode. Perhaps your dear old mother, or your father, has long been employed with the sainted hosts of God's dear chil- dren, and with celestial voice and fingers skilled in divine art, has been swelling the song uninterrupted, " Worthy is the Lamb that was slain for us." Do you not desire to join in that song ? or do you still choose to vacillate and hesitate and turn a deaf ear SEKMONS. 401 to the Sweetest Charmer? Hear Him : "Unto you, O men, I call ; and my voice is to the sons of man. O ye simple, understand wisdom ; and ye fools, be ye of an understanding heart." Two inferences : — (a) Is it not wisdom for you to be a Christian in reality, at whatever cost ? Do you not feel that it would be highest attainment of wisdom to be able to say, Jesus, I my cross have taken, All to leave and follow thee. Naked, poor, despised, forsaken, Thou from hence my all shalt be." (5) Do not be contented in being almost a Chris- tian. Contentment while in this state is as fatal as contentment in the most open and rebellious con- dition. Contentment in any condition short of personal union and fellowship with God through Christ, is a trick of the devil. Contentment in being almost a Christian is the stupor that leads to eternal death. Arouse yourself from it. Shake off the fatal spell, and not debar yourself from all that's good in time and eternity. 402 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT, THE DISPLEASURE OF GOD WITH THE INDOLENT. " Curse ye Meroz, said the angel of the Lord, curse ye bitterly the inhabitants thereof, because they came not up to the help of the Lord, to the help of the Lord against the mighty."— Judges v : 23. It is evident that Meroz was so situated that it could have rendered important and essential aid to the cause of Israel, in their conflict with the enemy, if it had been so disposed. But Meroz, assuming the same sentiment and position of very many of the present time, thought it prudent to be neutral in this conflict for right and for liberty. How many there are who study the devil's dictionary to find a comfortable definition of the word pimdence^ and they and their friends laud them to the skies for their wise forecast and "prudent" conduct, in not being identified with the radical and revolutionary Spirit that is stirring perhaps the entire nation to the depths, in the interests of humanity and justice ! It was so a few years since in the agitation against American slavery for over forty years. The same has been true in the temperance reform. Men and ministers have stood and looked on with stoic indif- SERMONS. 403 ference, while drunkards have been made by law, and thousands have gone down to drunkards' graves within their personal knowledge. They see these friends and acquaintances go down to a drunkard's undone eternity, and then with a linen handkerchief they wipe their mouths with as smooth grace as if they had been to a banquet. If prompted to speak, it has been to say, "Well, these hot-headed cold water men are responsible for this. Moderation would have been far better. By their hot haste they have driven men to sell it, and men that love it will drink it, if they can get it." This is morality with a vengeance, taking the side of Belial against Christ and humanity. These are your men who pride themselves on their great prudence ; conservative souls that are not fit for the Kingdom of heaven. Christ has no need of men who think more of how to retreat than advance ; who wait to see which way the wind blows before they start ; who have no idea of standing for the right till the right is popular. God wants revolutionists. This ode of Deborah was chanted at the celebra- tion of the victory, and while honorable mention was made of such as had distinguished themselves by deeds of valor, Meroz is referred to in terms of 404 FRbM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. execration, and burning, blistering reproach. There is another day of celebration yet to come, and an ode to be sung by far excelling all that was ever heard on earth. The question is, What mention shall be made of you in that last day ? Shall it be "Curse ye me those that have stood neutral, while virtue and sound religion and humanity have been calling for help?" Or shall it be in approval, like that of Deborah and Barak, and those with them in the conflict ? In this discourse we propose to notice : I. The Conflict going on. II. The Help Demanded. III. The evident Results of the Conflict. I. The Conflict now in Progress. 1. Error has waged a war against Truth, and has aroused all her minions to overthrow it, by every possible strategy known to a barbarous and savage warfare. Its most common attacks, are to assume the garb of Truth. But it is Truth perverted for the sake of advantage. "For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men, who hold the truth in unrighteousness." (Romans, i. 18.) A few specifications. "All men will be saved, no SERMONS. 405 matter what their sins or character may be. Salva- tion is sure." "Jesus was a good man, but not divine, nor equal with God." Carnal will substi- tuted for divine obedience and submission to the Gospel of Christ ; human merit for Christ's suffering and atonement. These all hold the Truth in unrighteousness, and are the scouting parties sent out by the devil to reconnoiter the outworks of Zion's fortress, while Truth stands in her white uni- form, bidding defiance to these sons of Belial, and near by her, within bugle-sound, are encamped these "wise," "discreet," cowardly, chicken-hearted professed friends of both parties, with their field- glasses taking observations. Many of them members of the church, and at the last election voting for the captain of this same squad to sell strychnine whisky, or are renting some low dance-house, or gambling- hell, or its twin sister, a gay shop where drunkards are finished up in the latest style for perdition. This is Meroz, that takes no part in the conflict now going on against Zion. No marvel that God's angel should say : "Curse ye Meroz." 2. The conflict is waged with superhuman effort to make the avowed friends of Jesus subserve the wicked purposes of the enemy. 406 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. The young convert of Christ is attacked in his weakest point. With blandest smiles the enemy says : "Let all your religious actions be with the greatest moderation. Keep cool, quite cool, on all matters of a spiritual nature. Join with the world in its social recreations. Xo harm for a Christian to play bilKards ; why, our minister keeps a bil- liard table in his house, right adjoining the study; and his wife said she would dance, if it were not for the speech of some of the members of his church who think it not right. Why, you look fatigued ; won't you take a glass of wine ? — it will not hurt you? Our minister drinks it at his table every day. Oh, how I wish you could have been at Mrs. Snodinglove's party, the other evening. We had a very pleasant time indeed. You know she is a member of our church, and she thinks it no harm for Christians to go to the theatre or circus. She is very fond of dancing too." Thus, by the time this gabbling daughter of Jezebel has finished her tittle-tattle to a convert just espoused to Jesus, if he is not well on his guard, ten chances to one if he is not taken captive at the will of the devil, so that when sister Light- minded has her "levee," he is there to subserve the SERMONS. 407 cause and machinations of these enemies of God and His anointed. Joined in affinity with the world, his religion has become cool indeed. No more deep solicitude for their young companions to come to the cross. No more singing in the spirit, and with the understanding : " Nearer, my God, to Thee, Nearer to Thee ; E'en though it be a cross That raiseth me. Still all my song ehall be, Nearer, my God, to Thee, Nearer to Thee." " Ye did run well ; who did hinder you that ye should not obey the truth?" (Gal. v. 7.) "As ye have therefore received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk ye in Him." (Col. ii. 6.) Thus they have joined the neutrality party ; and they too tliink our religious sentiments and convic- tions should be expressed with great "coolness." "Coolness" means coldness toward Christ when rightly interpreted. n. The help demanded in this crisis of the conflict. To help the Lord "against the mighty," is the key note of the conflict. 408 FEOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 1. The duty of the ministers of Jesus to expose the falsehood and sophistry of every lying spirit. Not only is it the duty of the servants of Christ to defend the Truth and Zion in her possession of it, but to carry the war into the enemy's camp, showing no quarter to a rebellious foe. Throw everything at the devil ; like Luther, throw your inkstand at him, if you have nothing else ; or like Whitefield at the Moorfields, preach Christ and Him crucified, to the surging mob ; or like John Knox at Saint Mary's, in the face of armed soldiers threatening him, "stand up for Jesus," and proclaim "the acceptable year of the Lord," and "the day of ven- geance of our God." Christ, Paul, Peter, John the Baptist, all set the ministers of after generations a good example in this line of muiisterial duty. We venture the assertion that full one-half of the declension in our churches is caused by the cringing, sycophantic, cowardly conduct of the professed ambassadors of Christ, — mere men-pleasers ; God- dishonoring representatives of the highest calling on earth. "I use great plainness of speech." If all the evangelical ministers professing the doctrine of salvation by faith in Jesus, were to come out in the spirit of the Gospel, and make an on- SERMONS. 409 slaught on the powers of darkness, as they now array themselves in the land, Romanism with all its idol mummery and anti-Christ priestcraft, Universal- ism, Unitarianism, and polished skepticism would all evaporate like the rank vapors before the rising sun. We have a few who have the moral courage to enter the lists, and declare the whole counsel of God, to a lost and depraved world of sinners. We have a superabundance of lectures and essays and pretty nonsensical gibberish, without point and effect upon man's moral and religious being. Some think these efforts have -warmth. But the vitality is only gal- vanic, and the heat that of a corpse warmed by lying in the sun. No vital connection with Christ and the Spirit, and consequently no stir of the soul ! The demand is for God-fearing, Christ-loving, and sinner-reclaiming, reformation preachers, of a free and full Gospel, and that now come "to the help of the Lord against the mighty." 2. The demand is also for all the people of God to "come to the help of the Lord." All, both male and female, can find something to do, and that to good advantage, if they only had the disposition. The women of our churches have always been more efficient, according to their sphere, 410 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. than the men. Here, in this contest, "Jael, the wife of Heber," struck the final blow : "Then Jael, Heber's wife, took a nail of the tent, and took a hammer in her hand, and went softly unto him, and smote the nail into his temples, and fastened it into the ground : for he was fast asleep and weary. So he died. "And, behold, as Barak pursued Sisera, Jael came out to meet him, and said unto him. Come, and I will shew thee the man whom thou seekest. And when he came into her tent, behold, Sisera lay dead, and the nail was in his temples. "So God subdued on that day Jabin, the king of Canaan, before the children of Israel. "And the hand of the children of Israel pros- pered, and prevailed against Jabin, the king of Canaan, until they had destroyed Jabin, king of Canaan." (Judges iv. 21-24.) We are glad to say here that the movement now being made by the women of our churches is accom- plishing much for missions abroad and at home. An evangelical power is being felt that will save the churches from the dead calm of a stupid formality. Deborah was compelled to be in the vanguard, taking the place of the man who should have been SERMONS. 411 first. (See Judges iv. 4-9.) Let it be the prayer of the church for the Lord to raise up Deborahs all over the land. Let every man in Zion do something to advance the cause of our common Christianity. We need not wait for the colleges and theological schools to send them out. K the laymen of the churches would only take this thing in hand, under the all-controlling influence of the Spirit of God, our whole land would resound with the voice of singing and victory, from Maine to California, from Florida to the Canadas. We need Sunday school men and women who have vim and religious vivacity. We need more life and spiritual power in our prayer and social meetings of the church. Exhortation that is stirring in its appeals to the impenitent, when do we hear? The world is God's workshop, in which He demands help of every kind to carry on the work of saving sinners, and to bring this conflict to a successful close. We need another Ehud in our camp. (See Judges iii. 14-22.) " Soldiers of Christ, arise and gird your armor on, Strong in the strength which God supplies Through His eternal Son." Xet US call your attention, in. To the evident Kesults of this Contest. 412 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. 1. It will lead each individual disciple of Jesus to examine his motives for enlisting in this campaign against sin. Quite a number have gone into the conflict for the spoils, as their fruits do show — loaves and fish followers of Christ ! They have joined the church to be made comfortable and to be pleased with the "brilliant discourses" of some minister who has the reputation of being an eloquent pulpit orator, who was never so vulgar as to pronounce that awful category of words, "hell," "perdition," "damnation," "lost souls," "judgment day," "day of wrath." (See Ezekiel xxxiii. 31, 32.) "And they come unto Thee as the people cometh, and they sit before Thee as my people, and they hear Thy words, but they will not do them : for with their mouth they show much love, but their heart goeth after their covetousness. **And, lo, Thou art unto them as a very lovely song of one that hath a pleasant voice, and can play well on an instrument: for they hear Thy words, but they do them not." This scene is acted over in our day, to all intents. You take away this kind of bread and butter, these sweet meals of human relish, and they will join a club of infidels : from the simple fact that their SEBMONS. 413 motives were not pure when they enlisted. But if they joined the cause for the love of Christ, then they will stand by in storm and sunshine, in battle and in peace, in life and in death. 2. Another result will be that en*or will yield to the truth when wielded in the name of Jehovah. It is irresistible : "For the Word of God is quick, and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart." — (Heb. iv. 12.) I do not believe that one instance can be found where a church or a minister commenced under the guiding and controlling influ- ences of the Truth as it is in Jesus, but sooner or later was victorious over error, and made the infidelity and skepticism of the place bite the dust, and many of the strongest opposers come over to the side of Truth, and say, in the deep simplicity of their natures : " I yield, I jrield; I can hold out no longer." 3. It must result in uniting the people of God in a permanent and healthy fellowship for each other. 414 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. Old jealousies and heart-burnings will cease and give place to the song : "From whence doth this union arise, That hatred is conquered by love ? It fastens our souls in such ties As distance and time can't remove." "Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity : "/j5 is like the precious ointment upon the head, that ran down upon the beard, even Aaron's beard ; that went down to the skirts of his garments ; "As the dew of Hermon, and as the dew that descended upon the mountains of Zion : for there the Lord commanded the blessing, even for life evermore." (Psalm cxxxiii. 1-3.) Pastor and people will not only work in harmony together, but a growing respect for each other will be manifested in their several spheres of labor. It is only in this sense that a church is edified in the Truth in the highest acceptation of that term, "edified in love." Oh, blessed result to be the people enjoying such a state ! Remarks. — 1. Brethren, are we identified in this conflict, and doing good battle for the Master on Zion's side? God has said : "Woe to them that are SERMONS. 415 at ease in Zion, and trust in the mountain of Samaria, which are named chief of the nations, to whom the house of Israel came !" (Amos vi. 1.) 2. The day of final celebration of all the victories achieved for Christ is soon to come. What honor- able mention shall be made of you and of me in that day ? Shall it be like that of Deborah and Barak ? or like that of Meroz, Jael and Sisera? God forbid the latter ! 3. Victory is sure to all those who enlist under the Captain of our Salvation, and the triumph of the saints is the defeat of the sinner. Our God has said that no weapon formed against Zion shall prosper. He is not wanting in means to carry on the conflict. He can save hj many or by few : "And Jonathan said to the young man that bare his armour, Come, and let us go over unto the garrison of these uncircumcised : it may be that the Lord will work for us : for there is no restraint to the Lord to save by many or by few. "And his armour-bearer said unto him, Do all that is in thy heart : turn thee ; behold, I am with thee according to thy heart." (I Sam. xiv. 6.) God will hasten the victory in His time. See that ye be not found fighting against God and the Truth. Amen. 416 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. CHAPTER XXXIII. A NIGHT WITH THE " RACKENSACKS " AND ''PUKES. All Western people will understand what is meant by the above names. But, for the instruction of our friends in the East, we "rise to explain." A Rackensack is a dweller in Arkansas, of the loafer order ; and a Puke is a rough of Missouri, or a "border ruffian." I was called to visit the south-eastern portion of Kansas, in connection with a young minister of our denomination. As we proceeded on our journey, towards evening we discovered that a storm was rising in the north, and that it would overtake us before we could cross Sugar Creek to a settlement, where we expected to find entertainment for the night among friends. So we were obliged to stop at a place called the "Three Stone Houses," lying between Fort Scott and Ottawa. These three houses were rude structures of stone, laid up without mortar or any visible design. One was a barn, and one of the two houses proper was 417 unoccupied. The third was occupied by an old woman and her son, the husband and father having been killed in the border ruffian war of 1855-56. We asked for entertainment, and the old lady told us we could stay ; but as her son was not at home, we would have to take care of our horses ourselves, at least until her son came. He was expected soon, if he was not delayed by the storm. We complied with the conditions, and went in to wait for supper. While she was making ready our coffee and bacon and corn cake, she looked out of the window and exclaimed : "Good Lord, have mercy; there comes them devils of Missouri and Arkansas. The Lord only knows what I shall do if Davey don't come." I inquired: "WTiy, what's the matter with them? They won't hurt you, I think." In they came , and addressed the old matron : "Wall, old woman, have you got any whisky in these diggins? If you have, draw et out quicker than a badger can hunt his hole." The old lady replied by saying : "We don't keep it for anybody. Dave did have a little he got for snake bites ; but I don't know where he keeps it, if he has got any." At this one of the Pukes said: "Wall, he haint. 418 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. got any now — we sucked out the last of that air stuff when we were here last week ;" and continued by asking, "Where is your Davey?" "He has been gone all day at Mapleton, and will be at home, if he can get here, before the storm comes." "Wall, there'll be a storm if he don't bring some of the critter, for we want to liquidate as bad as ." At which all set up a coarse and vulgar laugh. A Rackensack bawled out, "Come, old gal, stir your dancing pegs and get us something to eat, for we are as hungry as five wolves, and can eat all there is in this shanty as quick as lightning can strike a dry cottonwood." She replied : " I have no more coffee until Dave gets here, as I have just made all I have for these strangers, and a scant mite for them. I reckon it will be mighty weak too, but it's all I had in the house until Dave gets home. There, strangers, set up and take such as it is." Poor coffee, rusty bacon, and corn-cake baked on the stove, as griddle-cakes are baked, only it was about an inch thick, browned on both sides, and looked about as much like a No. 7 griddle to a stove, as a cake. As we sat down to the table, I said to ray young Reverend companion : "Ask a blessing." He shook "rackensaoks" and "pukes." 419 his head, and said : "I will join with you." So I gave thanks in words something like the following : "Ever blessed Father of all our mercies, sanctify this sweet portion of Thy bounty, to our nourish-r ment and comfort, and may we consider the heart and hand that supply us, for Christ's sake, Amen." And the old woman said : "Amen ; bless the Lord." At that moment, a voice at the door called out : "mam, come and take the things in quick." Dave had come. Soon she returned with a paper of coffee, a dozen of candles, and three boxes of matches. As she laid them on the bed in the corner of the room, one of the Pukes said: "Wall, hain't Dave brought any whisky, old gal?" She answered : "Not as I can see, if he has, it is in his saddle-bags." Up jumped three of them and they went to the stone shed to find Dave, or what they most desired, the whisky. Soon the storm of wind and rain burst upon the house with great fury and force, and in came Dave and the hunters after whisky, in great haste, but no whisky had come. The old lady at once set herself to get supper for her son and the roughs. As we closed our frugal meal, the young Domine said to me in a whisper: "Brother Stimson, I wish we had gone on, I don't feel safe here. These are a 420 FKOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. bad set of roughs, and there is no knowing what they may do before morning." I replied in a low whisper: "Well, now hold up your head and stop your looking so much like a coward. Be a man. It will only make the matter worse if they see your timidity." I sat down by the stove and stirred the coffee for the old woman, and then ground it for her and her guests, while she baked the second installment of corn-cake, and fried the second batch of bacon, fill- ing the whole house with an odor similar to what I have enjoyed in a soap-chandler's establishment, only more so. As soon as I had finished my task in the cooking department, I commenced singing a hymn that my young friend could have joined in if he would : " Hark, my soul, it is the Lord, 'Tis the Savior, hear his Word ; Jesus speaks, and speaks to thee : Say, poor sinner, lovest thou me.'* All was as still and quiet as a funeral, the moment the singing commenced. When we came to the third stanza : " Can a woman's tender care Cease towards the child she bare? Yes, she may forgetful be; Yet will I remember thee.*' 421 One large, brawny fellow took his coat-tail up and wiped his eyes, turning his face away from the light. By this time supper was ready, and they gathered around the table to supply their needs. They sat and ate their meal in quietness, speaking in respectful terms to the old lady. The storm had now so abated that my companion and myself stepped out of the door, and going a little way from the house, I said; "I shall call on you to read the Bible, and I want you to read the xviiith chapter of Luke, and then we will sing again and have prayers. The old lady is a Christian, I am quite confident, and one of these roughs has a tender spot in his heart. So we went in again. I spoke to the old lady : "Well, madam, shall we spend a little time in devotion, before we lie down to rest? We all need protection, and it is well for us to commit ourselves to God as our Father and Protector." "Oh yes, I reckon it would be so nice ; I have not heard a man pray since my poor husband was shot in 1856. We then had a man here to help bury him out on the prairie, and he prayed." "Was your husband shot, madam?" we asked. **Yes, he was shot while we were milking our cows. It was in the time of our troubles here on the bor- 422 FROM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. der. Dave was then a little boy, and we had a pretty little girl, next younger than Dave, and she never got over the fright of that awful time. If we could a got back to Injiana, we should a gone, but we had no money, and all our oxen had been stolen, and here Dave and I have stayed ever since." I called on the young brother, and we sang again, and then I asked them all to kneel down with us while I made supplication to the Almighty Father for protecting care during the watches of the night. There was no more loud talking or profanity there that night. As we stepped out of the door while the young man covered the floor with blankets for our beds, I heard one of them say to his companion, as they stood around in the dark : "Wall, Buck, I should think that old 'feller was John Brown, if he wan't hung by them Virginians." ffis friend replied : " It may be him arter all. He was a slippery old cuss, and it may be he gave them the dodge, or got somebody hung in his place." There was no more said about whisky, no more swearing, no more impertinent talk to the old lady of the house. All was as quiet as a first-class hotel, except the loud snoring. At daylight my young brother and myself started off on our journey again, driving twelve miles before breakfast. THE irishman's stoey. 423 THE IRISHIVIAN's MIRACLE OF THE LOAVES AND FISHES. An Irishman in his travels found a New Testa- ment, and, having a moment's leisure, sat down and read the Miracle of the Loaves and Fishes, after which he went on his journey, and, meeting a coun- tryman, said, " Pat, I have just read a curious book to-day." <« An' pfat book have ye read, Mike?" ** Well, it's about the Lord Jesus, ye know ; it tells all about the twelve Apostles, ye know, Pat. How, wanst upon a time they were all out in the woods together, and the Apostles got farefully hungry, ye know: and the Lord Jesus took five hundred fishes and seven thousand loaves of bread and blessed them — an' the twelve Apostles ate them all up, sure." **But Mike," said Pat, ** I don't see any miracle." ' * Hunch me Honey, isn't it a miracle they didn't all bust afther aitin so many ? " The above stor}^ has served Father Stimson so well on such a variety of occasions, it well deserves a place among those in which he has been a personal actor. The story itself, if not the application he made of it, will be remembered a long time by those who laughed over his inimitable telling of it at the General Association, held at Topeka, Kansas, October 1873. CONCLUSION. A PEKSONAL SKETCH, BY THE EDITOR. Father Stimson is a character ; every man is not. He isn't just like anybody else. When in his presence, you are at once satisfied that he has opin- ions. When you have heard him talk, either in conversation or public discourse, you are more convinced that his ideas are his own, and that he would sacrifice everything rather than yield them. He is not obstinate. Mere human opinions on which men have a right to differ, he is as ready to change or give up as any man need to be. Reli- gious principles he holds as inviolably sacred. No one who has ever heard him preach, can forget the solemnity with which he speaks of these. Eather than yield one of them, he would sufier the loss of all things. Bred according to the Scotch-Irish Presbyterian rule, and educated in the high school of Baptist faith and practice, it is not to be won- dered at that he has the grit of a reformer. He has preached the gospel the Master has bidden him, asking no questions, and neither daring nor wishing to make the least modification. He couldn't have been anything else but a Baptist. His impatience of human authority in matters of conscience, his radical nature, his disregard of what is simply time-honored, his scorn of the double-edged weapons of ridicule and custom, his loyalty to the truth, and his supreme love of his Divine Master, have qualified him for the enjoyment of the fellowship and service of the church for a place in which he made such a struggle in early life. Certainly in these qualities he is a representative Baptist. PERSONAL SKETCH. 425 If Father Stimsox should find a weak Baptist church in a place, with little or no "social standing," he would go to work at once Xp make it stronger. He would do the same thing if he were not a min- ister. If there were no church in the place, he would set himself to the delightful task of prepar- ing a people, by Divine help, for church fellowship. All must respect the man who, without the advantages of an education, rises superior to the majority — the great majority — of those who are educated. College-bred men often leave school so conscious of theii- advantages over uneducated men as to make no habitual efforts afterwards to main- tain their advantages. Those not so favored in youth, often go through life with the spur of con- scious disadvantage. By this they are stimulated to great and constant effort for self improvement, and soon outstrip those who were far in advance to begin with — hare and tortoise. Father Stimson has accom- plished more in the world for God an(J humanity than is the average work of a College and Seminary educated minister. Two or three of the natural qualities that have helped him in his otherwise unassisted work deserve special mention. First, his memory. This is remarkable. It's not a memory for one class of subjects alone, but for facts and principles, dates, names and words, and for one as much as for another. Memory is as distinguishing a faculty as man possesses. It gives a man more aid in public life than any other faculty, unless it be the gift of superior speech. It has helped him more than any one knows, except himself, in all his public work. It has given him a great conunand of Scripture and 426 FEOM THE STAGE COACH TO THE PULPIT. hymn quotations in the pulpit and prayer-meeting. It has given him^ the apt story in public addresses and private conversation. It has given him great advantage in argument, supplying him with the needed quotations from authors. It has been abso- lutely indispensable in the preparation of this auto-biography. With the previously -prepared manuscript all lost in Chicago, he had to begin again, and after two years had passed. The facil- ity with which he remembered dates and facts and names and conversations, and dashed them down with his pencil, is known to at least one other person. I shall always have one proof that I am hot lazy in the speed with which my pen followed his pencil. His tact in reply to grave argument or witty personal assault, is another trait of mind that will be remembered as long as he is remembered. An Irishman by parentage, he is never wanting in quick repartee and apt anecdote most forcibly told. He has an almost exhaustless fund .of humor and anec- dote. If argument would not serve his puipose when attacked or making a point, some quaint saying of somebody's or some resistless story would always come in at the right moment, and he would carry off the laurels. He is the soul of any company in which he feels at home. As to others, his wit makes them feel at home. No sketch of him would have been complete without a chapter of stories and jokes. He is a man of large practical common sense. He despises shams. He sees the best way out of a tight place as soon as he is in it. His advice to people similarly situated is of great value. His :^ PERSONAL SKETCH. 427 common sense doesn't desert him when he comes to matters of religion. He reasons upon Christianity as he would on any subject requiring the use of reason, but never without making the broad distinc- tion that exists between it and all other forms of religion. He has a fair share of originality of thought and expression. His imagination, too, is more than ordinary. The happy combination of these qualities and others, and the conscientious use of them through public life, have made him a power in the denom- ination. He belongs to a race of men that is rapidly passing away. The places that now know them will soon know them no more. The need of pioneer men — especially of the angular, eccentric, original, self- made stamp to which he belongs — is fast ceasing to exist. They have nobly done a great work, a work smoother men could not have done. Peace to their ashes. Peaceful years to those who remain among us. .v\ V^ 'b. .oq. 'O. ■^^. < ^ =? 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