Something of Men I Have Known Part 21

XVI ROBERT G. INGERSOLL

MR. INGERSOLL'S ELOQUENCE WHILE A YOUNG MAN--HIS CANDIDACY FOR CONGRESS--HIS AGNOSTICISM A HINDRANCE TO HIS POLITICAL ADVANCEMENT --HIS ORATION AT THE FUNERAL OF HIS BROTHER.

It was in April, 1859, that for the first time I met Robert G.

Ingersoll. He came over from his home in Peoria to attend the Woodford Circuit Court. He was then under thirty years of age, of splendid physique, magnetic in the fullest significance of the word, and one of the most attractive and agreeable of men. He was almost boyish in appearance, and hardly known beyond the limits of the county in which he lived. He had but recently moved to Peoria from the southern part of the State.

To those who remember him it is hardly necessary to say that even at that early day he gave unmistakable evidence of his marvellous gifts. His power over a jury was wonderful indeed; and woe betide the counsel of but mediocre talents who had Ingersoll for an antagonist in a closely contested case.

The old Court-house at Metamora is yet standing, a monument of the past; the county seat removed, it has long since fallen from its high estate. In my boyhood, I have more than once heard Mr. Lincoln at its bar, and later was a pract.i.tioner there myself--and State's Attorney for the Circuit,--when Mr. Ingersoll was attendant upon its courts. Rarely at any time or place have words been spoken more eloquent than fell from the lips of Lincoln and Ingersoll in that now deserted Court-house, in the years long gone by.

The first appearance of Mr. Ingersoll in the political arena was in the Presidential struggle of 1860. In his later years he was a Republican, but in the contest just mentioned he was the earnest advocate of the election of Mr. Douglas to the Presidency and was himself the Democratic candidate for Congress in the Peoria District. His compet.i.tor was Judge Kellogg, a gentleman of well-known ability and many years' experience in Congress. Immediately upon his nomination, Ingersoll challenged Kellogg to a series of joint debates. The challenge was accepted, and the debates which followed were a rare treat to the throngs who heard them. The discussion turned upon the vital issues yet pending at the outbreak of the Civil War, issues which were to find their final determination on the field of battle. Possibly, with the exception of the historic debates two years earlier, between Lincoln and Douglas, the country has known no abler discussion of great questions. It was then for the first time that Ingersoll displayed the marvellous forensic powers that at a later day--and upon a different arena--gave him world-wide renown.

It was at a period subsequent to that just mentioned that he became an agnostic. I recall no expression of his during the early years of our acquaintance that indicated a departure from the faith in which he had been reared. That his extreme views upon religious subjects, and his manner, exceedingly offensive at times, of expressing them, formed an insuperable barrier to his political advancement, cannot be doubted. But for his unbelief, what political honors might have awaited him cannot certainly be known. But recalling the questions then under discussion, the intensity of party feeling, and the enthusiasm that his marvellous eloquence never failed to arouse in the thousands who hung upon his words, it is probable that the most exalted station might have been attained.

To those familiar with the political events of that day, it is known that the antagonism aroused by his a.s.saults upon the citadel of the faith sacred to the many, compa.s.sed his defeat in his candidature in 1868 for the Governors.h.i.+p of Illinois. His explanation was, that his defeat was caused by a slight difference of opinion between himself and some of the brethren upon the highly exciting question of total depravity.

Some years later, the nominee of his party for the Presidency was exceedingly obnoxious to him. Meeting the Colonel the morning after the adjournment of the convention I inquired, "Are you happy?"

To this he replied, that he was somewhat in the condition of a very profane youth who had just got religion at a backwoods camp-meeting.

Soon after his conversion, the preacher, taking him affectionately by the hand, inquired: "My young friend, are you very happy?" "Well, parson," replied the only half-converted youth, "I am not d.a.m.n happy, just _happy,_ that's all."

His only brother was for many years a Representative in Congress from Illinois. Clark Ingersoll was himself able and eloquent, but overshadowed by the superior gifts of his younger brother, the subject of this sketch. The death of the former was to Colonel Ingersoll a sorrow which remained with him to the last. The funeral occurred in Was.h.i.+ngton in the summer of 1879, and of the pall-bearers selected by Colonel Ingersoll for the last sad service to his brother, were men well known in public life, one of whom but two years later, while President of the United States, fell by the hand of an a.s.sa.s.sin.

From a Was.h.i.+ngton paper of the day succeeding the funeral of Clark Ingersoll, the following is taken: "When Colonel Ingersoll ceased speaking the pall-bearers, Senator Allison, Senator David Davis, Senator Blaine, Senator Voorhees, Representatives Garfield of Ohio, Morrison, Boyd, and Stevenson of Illinois, bore the casket to the hea.r.s.e and the lengthy _cortege_ proceeded to the Oak Hill Cemetery where the remains were interred."

The occasion was one that will not easily pa.s.s from my memory.

There was no service whatever save the funeral oration which has found its way into all languages. I stood by the side of Colonel Ingersoll near the casket during its delivery, and vividly recall his deep emotion, and the faltering tones in which the wondrous sentences were uttered. It is probable that this oration has no counterpart in literature. It seemed in very truth the knell of hope, the expression of a grief that could know no surcease, the agony of a parting that could know no morrow.

In such an hour how cheerless and comfortless these words:

"Life is a narrow vale between the cold and barren peaks of two eternities. We strive in vain to look beyond the heights. We cry aloud, and the only answer is the echo of our wailing cry.

"Every life, no matter if its every hour is rich with love, and every moment jewelled with a joy, will at its close become a tragedy as sad and deep and dark as can be woven of the warp and woof of mystery and death."

And yet in those other words, "But in the night of death, hope sees a star, and listening love can hear the rustle of a wing," and, "while on his forehead fell the golden dawning of a grander day," there is a yearning for "the touch of a vanished hand," and a hope that no philosophy could dispel of a reunion sometime and somewhere with the loved and lost.

Two decades later, again "the veiled shadow stole upon the scene,"

and the sublime mystery of life and death was revealed. The awful question, "If a man die shall he live again?" was answered, and to the great agnostic _all was known._

XVII A CAMP-MEETING ORATOR

PETER CARTWRIGHT, METHODIST PREACHER--HIS FEARLESSNESS AND ENERGY-- HIS OLD-FAs.h.i.+ONED ORTHODOXY--HOW HE CONVERTED A PROFANE SWEARER --HIS ATTENDANCE AT A BALL--OLD-TIME CAMP-MEETINGS--CARTWRIGHT'S AVERSION TO OTHER SECTS--CONVERSION OF A DESPERADO INTO A PENITENT --CARTWRIGHT MR. LINCOLN'S COMPEt.i.tOR FOR REPRESENTATIVE--HIS SPEECH AT A DEMOCRATIC STATE CONVENTION.

The Rev. Peter Cartwright was a noted Methodist preacher of pioneer days in Central Illinois. Once seen, he was a man never to be forgotten. He was, in the most expressive sense of the words, _sui generis;_ a veritable product of the times in which he lived, and the conditions under which he moved and had his being. All in all, his like will not appear again. He was converted when a mere youth at a camp-meeting in southern Kentucky; soon after, he was licensed to preach, and became a circuit rider in that State, and later was of the Methodist vanguard to Illinois. It was said of him that he was of the church _military_ as well as "the church militant." He was of ma.s.sive build, an utter stranger to fear, and of unquestioned honesty and sincerity. He was gifted with an eloquence adapted to the times in which he lived, and the congregations to which he preached. There would be no place for him now, for the untutored a.s.semblages who listened with bated breath to his fiery appeals are of the past.

"For, welladay! Their day is fled, Old times are changed, old manners gone."

The narrative of his tough conflicts with the emissaries of Satan is even now of the rarest reading for a summer's day or a winter's night. How he fought the Indians, fought the robbers, swam rivers, and threaded the prairies, in order that he might carry the Gospel to the remotest frontiersmen, was of thrilling interest to many of the new generation as his own sands were running low. He literally took no thought of the morrow, but without staff and little even in the way of scrip unselfishly gave the best years of a life extending two decades beyond the time allotted, to the service of his Master.

Until the Judgment leaves are unfolded the good which this man and many of his co-laborers did in the new country will never be known.

A journey of days on horseback to fill an appointment, to perform a marriage ceremony, preach a funeral sermon, or speak words of hope and comfort to the sick or the bereaved, was part of the sum of a life of service that knew little of rest.

There would probably be few pulpits open to Peter Cartwright in these more cultivated times. Old things have pa.s.sed away; the pioneer in his rough garb, with axe upon his shoulder, and rifle in hand, is now but a tradition, while the border line of civilization has receded westward to the ocean.

None the less, the typical minister of to-day would have had very scant welcome in the rude pulpits of the days of which we write. His elegant attire, conventional manners, written sermons, and new theology, would have been sadly out of place in the camp-meeting times, for be it remembered that Cartwright called things by their right names. He gave forth no uncertain sound.

His theology was that of the Fathers. We hear little in these modern days of "The fire that quencheth not" and of "total depravity"

and of "the bottomless pit." Such expressions are unfitted for ears polite. Higher criticism, new thought, and all kindred ideas and suggestions,

"Sapping a solemn creed with solemn sneer,"

were believed by Cartwright and his contemporaries to be mere contrivances of Satan for the ensnaring of immortal souls. His abhorrence of all these "wiles of the devil," and his scorn for their advocates, knew no bounds.

His preaching was of the John Wesley, George Whitefield, and Jonathan Edwards type. Mingled with his denunciations of sin, his earnest exhortations to repentance, his graphic description of the New Jerusalem, with its "streets of gold, walls of jasper, and gates of pearl," and of the unending bliss of the redeemed, were expressions now relegated to the limbo of the past. Little time, however, was wasted by the Rev. Peter in picking out soft words for fear of giving offence. To his impa.s.sioned soul "the final doom of the impenitent," the "torment of the d.a.m.ned," and "h.e.l.l fire" itself, were veritable realities. And so indeed, when rolling from his tongue, did they appear, not alone to the rapt believer, but oftentimes to the unG.o.dly and the sinner as well.

More than one marvellous conversion under his ministration is recorded by Brother Cartwright in the autobiography written in the closing years of his life. At one time in crossing a stream, he was deeply offended by the profanity of the boatman. The kindly admonition and the gentle rebuke of the minister apparently added zest and volume to the oaths of the boatman. Suddenly seizing the offender, the irate preacher ducked him into the river, and turned a deaf ear to his piteous appeals for succor until the half-drowned wretch had offered a prayer for mercy and made profuse promises of repentance. Hopeful conversion, and an ever-after life of Christian humility, were the gratifying sequels to the baptism so unexpectedly administered.

Another experience no less remarkable occurred when, during the early years of his ministry, he was crossing the mountains on his way to the General Conference. At a tavern by the wayside, where he had obtained lodging for the night, he found preparations in progress for a ball to come off that very evening. The protestation of the minister against such wickedness only aroused the ire of the landlord and his family. The dance promptly began at the appointed time.

"Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again, And all went merry as a marriage-bell."

There being but a single room to the house, and a storm raging without, the outraged and indignant minister was the unwilling witness to the ebb and flow of this tide of unG.o.dliness. At length, as partners were being chosen for the Virginia Reel, a beautiful girl approached the solitary guest and requested his hand for the set just forming. The minister arose and intimated a ready compliance with her request, at the same time a.s.suring her that he never entered upon any important undertaking without first invoking G.o.d's blessing upon it; and seizing her by the hand he fell upon his knees and with the voice of one born to be obeyed commanded silence and began his prayer. The dance was immediately suspended, and a solemnity and horror, as if the presage of approaching doom, fell upon the startled a.s.semblage. Above the agonizing sobs of the lately impenitent revellers was heard, as was that of the ancient prophet above the din of the wors.h.i.+ppers of Baal, the voice of the man of G.o.d in earnest appeals to the throne of grace for mercy to these "h.e.l.l-deserving sinners."

An hour pa.s.sed; lamentation and groans of sin-sick soul mingled meanwhile with the fervent exhortations and appeals of the man of prayer. Suddenly and in rapid succession shout after shout of victory from redeemed souls ascended, and as if by magic the late abode of scoffers became indeed a very Bethel. The incidents mentioned, and others scarcely less remarkable, will be found in Mr.

Cartwright's autobiography. The present generation knows but little of the old-time camp-meeting; as it existed in the days and under the administration of Peter Cartwright and his co-laborers, it is verily a thing of the past.

"New occasions teach new duties; Time makes ancient good uncouth."

Seventy years and more ago, the country new, the population spa.r.s.e, the settlements few and far between, the camp-meeting was of yearly and, as it was believed, of necessary occurrence. It was, especially with the early Methodists, a recognized instrumentality for preaching the Gospel for the conversion of souls.

A convenient spot--usually near a spring or brook--being selected, a rude pulpit was erected, rough seats provided, a log cabin or two for the aged and infirm hastily constructed, and there in the early autumn large congregations a.s.sembled for wors.h.i.+p. For many miles around, and often from neighboring counties, the people came, on horseback, in wagons, and on foot. Each family furnished its own tent, the needed bed-clothing, cooking utensils, and abundant provisions for their temporary sojourn in the wilderness. It was no holiday occasion, no time for merry making. It was often at much sacrifice and discomfort that such meetings were held, and preachers and people alike were in terrible earnest. Rigid rules for their government were formulated and enforced, and a proper decorum required and observed. Woe betide the wretch who attempted to create disturbance, or depart from the strictest propriety of deportment. Not infrequently in the early camp-meetings of Kentucky and Tennessee there were stalwart men keeping guard over these religious gatherings, who had in their younger days hunted the savage foe from his fastness, faced Tec.u.mseh at Tippecanoe and the Thames, possibly been comrades of "Old Hickory" through the Everglades and at New Orleans.

A sufficient time being set apart for meals and the needed hours of rest, the residue was in the main devoted to public or private wors.h.i.+p. Family prayer-meetings were held in each tent at the early dawn; public preaching by the most gifted speakers during two hours or more of the forenoon. After a hasty midday meal the public services were resumed, to be followed at the appointed time by meetings for special prayer, cla.s.s meetings, and love feasts, all conducted with the greatest possible solemnity; and the exercises, after supper had been served and the candles lighted, concluded for the day with an impa.s.sioned sermon from the main stand. During the last-mentioned service especially, the scene presented was truly of a weird and picturesque character. The flickering lights of the camp, the dark forest around, the melodious concert of a thousand voices mingling in sacred song, the awe-inspiring, never-to-be-forgotten hymn,

"Come, humble sinner, in whose breast A thousand thoughts revolve,"

the fervid exclamations as convicted sinners gathered around the mourners' bench and the shouts of joy heard far beyond the limits of the camp as peace found lodging in sin-distracted souls, all impressed the memory and heart too deeply for even the flight of years wholly to dispel.

It need hardly be added that these scenes, of which but feeble description has been given, marked the hour of triumph of the truly gifted of the revival preachers of camp-meeting times. The echoes will never awake to the sound of such eloquence again. The orator and the occasion here met and embraced. In very truth, the joys of the redeemed, and the horrors of lost souls, were depicted in colors that only lips "touched with a live coal from the altar"

could adequately describe. In the presence of such lurid imagery, even the inspired revelation of the apocalyptic vision seems but sober narrative of commonplace events.

With camp-meetings and their thrilling incidents of two generations ago in our Western country, the name of Peter Cartwright is inseparably a.s.sociated. He was the born leader; _par excellence,_ the unrivalled orator. Since the pa.s.sing of Whitefield and Asbury a greater than he had not appeared. To those who have never attended an old-time camp-meeting the following quotation from Mr.

Cartwright's autobiography may be of interest:

"The meeting was protracted for weeks and was kept up day and night.

Thousands heard of the mighty work, and came on foot, on horseback, and in wagons. It was supposed that there were in attendance at different times from twelve to twenty-five thousand. Hundreds fell prostrate under the mighty power of G.o.d, as men slain in battle; and it was supposed that between one and two thousand souls were happily and powerfully converted to G.o.d during the meetings. It was not unusual for as many as seven preachers to be addressing the listening thousands at a time, from different stands. At times, more than a thousand persons broke out into loud shouting, all at once, and the shouts could be heard for miles around."

Strange as the following may sound to the present generation, it is one of the many experiences recorded by Cartwright: