Something of Men I Have Known Part 29

"A Methodist, a Methodist, Mr. Prosecutor. Oh, you preach the doctrine of the Methodist Church, do you?--infant baptism, and falling from grace?" To these hurried interrogatories, an affirmative was meekly but distinctly given.

"Well, don't you know that _that_ isn't the Gospel? He is not guilty of preaching the Gospel, Mr. Prosecutor, and will have to be discharged. You can go, sir, but if this Court ever learns that you have been really guilty of preaching the Gospel without first taking an oath to support the Const.i.tution of the State of Missouri, you will have to be punished, sir; the Court will see that there is no evasion of this salutary provision of our most excellent Const.i.tution. _Go, sir."_

A clean-shaven, benevolent-looking gentleman of middle age was next in evidence. He had but recently a.s.sumed his present pastorate and was a deeply interested and attentive observer of all that was happening. In reply to the inquiry from the bench, he answered that he was a Universalist.

"A Universalist!" replied the judge, almost astounded beyond the power of expression. Recovering himself, he at length inquired:

"You preach the doctrine of universal salvation, do you?"

A slight bow indicated such to be the fact.

"You preach," continued his Honor, with warmth well suited to the subject-matter, "that there is no h.e.l.l?"

A bow, much more emphatic, was unmistakable evidence that its author was a man who had the courage of his convictions.

"He doesn't believe that _there is any h.e.l.l,_ Mr. Prosecutor,"

thundered the judge, "he will have to be discharged; it is no violation of the Const.i.tution of the State of Missouri to preach such infernal nonsense as that."

The official admonition, "Depart, sir," was promptly obeyed, and the apostle of the broad highway followed quickly in the wake of the aforementioned disciples of Calvin and Wesley, in the "narrow path"

which led straightway out of the crowded court-room.

In rapid succession the two remaining prisoners on the front bench were questioned, and each in turn found "not guilty" of preaching the Gospel. An avowal of his belief in the tenet of "the Apostolic succession" instantly resulted in the acquittal of the first, while the second was with equal promptness found "not guilty" upon his admission that he preached the doctrine of "regeneration by ----"

There was much confusion in the court-room at this moment, and the reporter failed to catch the concluding words of the confession.

Finding himself, moreover, getting into _deep water,_ he thoughtfully left on record that both the Episcopalian and the Christian pastor left the court-room with the admonition ringing in their ears, that if they were ever actually found guilty _of preaching the Gospel_ they should be duly punished.

A lone prisoner remained in the dock. The days of the years of his pilgrimage were not few, and quite probably, except in a figurative sense, not evil. He was of st.u.r.dy build, quiet manners, and his countenance was indicative of great sincerity. In a voice extremely deferential he stated that he had once ministered to a dying Confederate, and it was impossible for him to take the required oath that he had never expressed any sympathy for any person who had ever been engaged in the Rebellion.

"Of what church are you a minister?" interrupted the judge.

"The Baptist Church," was the answer.

"The Baptist Church," instantly repeated the judge, and looking very earnestly at the accused, he asked;

"Do you preach the doctrines of the Baptist Church?"

An affirmative answer having been given, His Honor said:

"Upon his own confession he is guilty, Mr. Prosecutor: the Court holds the Baptist _to be the true church,_ and this defendant has been guilty of preaching the Gospel without first taking the oath to support the Const.i.tution of the State of Missouri. He will have to be punished."

Addressing the prisoner, he said: "You will have to be punished, sir; this Court can permit no excuse or evasion."

The graveyard stillness that now fell upon the little a.s.semblage was at length broken by His Honor reading aloud the prescribed punishment for preaching the Gospel without first having taken the required oath.

"Yes, a fine of five hundred dollars or six months in the common jail, _or both._ A clear case, Mr. Prosecutor, this prisoner must be made an example of; hand me the docket, Mr. Clerk. Yes, the full penalty."

Then, before making the fatal entry, suddenly turning to the prisoner, he demanded:

"How long have you been preaching the Gospel?"

In hardly audible accents, the answer tremblingly given was,

"I have been trying to preach the Gospel ----"

"Only _trying_ to preach the Gospel, only _trying_ to preach the Gospel!" exclaimed the judge. "There is no law, Mr. Prosecutor, against merely _trying_ to preach the Gospel. You can go, sir; but if this Court ever hears that you have succeeded in actually _preaching_ the Gospel, you will be punished, sir!"

XXVIII AMONG THE ACTORS

THE GIVING OF PLEASURE THE ACTOR'S AIM--PRAISE OF NOTABLE ACTORS --BARRETT, FORREST, McCULLOUGH, EDWIN BOOTH, WILKES BOOTH, JEFFERSON, IRVING--MACBETH'S PRAISE OF SLEEP.

On the evening of October 27, 1908, a meeting was held in the Grand Opera House, Chicago, Illinois, in the interest of the Democratic candidates in the campaign then pending. The meeting began a few minutes after midnight, and the immense audience consisted, in a large measure, of actors and actresses and their attendants from the various theatres of the city.

After an eloquent political speech of the Hon. Samuel Alschuler and a stirring recitation by one of the actors, I was introduced, and spoke as follows:

"I am grateful for the opportunity under such happy auspices, to bid you _good-morning._ I would count myself fortunate, indeed, could I contribute even the smallest mite to the enjoyment of those who have in such unstinted measure dispensed pleasure to so many of the human family, to the representatives of a profession which, struggling up through the centuries, has at last found honored and abiding place in a broader civilization, a calling whose sublime mission it is to give surcease to hara.s.sing care, to smooth out the wrinkles from the brow, bring gladness to the eye, to teach that

'Behind the clouds is the sun still smiling';

in a word, to add to the sum of human happiness.

"It has been my good fortune, in the happy years gone by, to have had the personal acquaintance of some of the most eminent of your profession. Under the witchery of this inspiring presence, 'the graves of memory render up their dead.' Again I hear from the lips of Barrett: 'Take away the sword; States can be saved without it!'

'How love, like death, levels all ranks, and lays the shepherd's crook beside the sceptre!'

"Who that ever saw Forrest 'sitting as if in judgment upon kings' could forget that superb presence? In the silent watches, even yet, steal upon us in ominous accents the words, 'Put out the light, and then put out the light!' Complimented upon the manner in which he played Lear, he angrily exclaimed: 'Played Lear, played Lear?

I _play_ Hamlet, I _play_ Macbeth, I _play_ Oth.e.l.lo; but I _am_ Lear!' Possibly the art of the tragedian has known no loftier triumph than in Forrest's rendition of Lear's curse upon the unnatural daughter:

'Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth; With cadent tears fret channels in her cheeks; Turn all her mother's pains and benefits To laughter and contempt!'

"A third of a century ago, I made the acquaintance of John McCullough, then at the very zenith of his fame. In even measure as was the elder Booth Richard the Third, Forrest, King Lear, or Edwin Booth, Hamlet, so was McCullough the born Macbeth. When I first saw him emerge with dishevelled hair and b.l.o.o.d.y hands from the apartment of the murdered king, I was, I confess, in mortal dread of the darkness. I have heard another since of even greater repute in that masterful impersonation, but with me to the last, John McCullough will remain the veritable Macbeth. His are the words that linger:

'I go, and it is done; the bell invites me, Hear it not, Duncan; for it is the knell That summons thee to heaven or to h.e.l.l.'

"Edwin Booth has stepped from the stage of living men, and when in the tide of time will such a Hamlet again appear? To him Nature had been prodigal of her choicest blessings. Every gift the G.o.ds could bestow to the full equipment of the interpreter, the actor, the master, was his.

'He was a man, take him for all in all, We shall not look upon his like again.'

Many moons will wax and wane before from other lips, as from his, will fall:

'Or that the Everlasting had not fixed His canon 'gainst self-slaughter.'

or, giving expression to thoughts from the very depths, which have in all the ages held back from such dread ending:

'To die, to sleep; To sleep! perchance to dream; aye, there's the rub; For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause.'

"The ever-abiding memory that his brother was the real actor in a tragic scene that gave pause to the world, burdened the heart and mellowed the tone of Edwin Booth, and no doubt linked him in closer touch with what has, as by the enchanter's wand, been portrayed of the 'melancholy Dane.'

"Two years before the a.s.sa.s.sination of President Lincoln I heard Wilkes Booth as Romeo at the old McVicker. The pa.s.sing years have not wholly dimmed his