Blake, Elizabeth Taylor, Susan Taylor, Zachariah Taylor, Sally
    Taylor.

Porter Fisher was chosen elder.

In September following, Dr. Curtis J. Smith and Newton Short held them
a meeting, resulting in forty additions.

The members of the first organization began to move their membership to
Mt. Byrd, and soon the two congregations were one.

The following is a list of the overseers of the church, in their order,
from its establishment till 1885:

    Porter Fisher, Hayden Fisher, John B. Floyd, James Jones, Samuel
    Morris, John A. Bain, Isaac Trout, John S. Maddox, Jacob Trout,
    George Craig, F. G. Allen.

The following are the names of the preachers who have served the church
a stated length of time:

    Porter Fisher, Hiram Stark, J. Newton Payne, Dr. C. J. Smith, Henry
    Rice, Jesse Mavity, Dr. Sadler, J. A. Bain, G. B. Moore, A. A.
    Knight, J. C. Walden, J. V. Price, F. G. Allen.

In addition to meetings held by the regular preachers, it has enjoyed
the evangelistic labors of some of the ablest preachers in the
Reformation.

From its organization to June, 1885, there were added to the church, at
various times and in various ways, 982 members. At this time (June 12,
1885) the membership is 350.

In addition to removals, deaths, exclusions, etc., we gave a large
number to the Bedford Church when it last organized (1874), and our
colored membership organized to themselves in 1877. Also the nucleus of
the Beech Grove church went from here.

Three things, that have had much to do with the prosperity of this
church, deserve special mention--their course during the war, their way
of choosing church officers, and their method of church discipline.

During the war the church remained in a peaceful and prosperous
condition. At the beginning they were of one mind in the decision that
the religion of Christ was more important to them than political
interests; that the war would end, but that the kingdom of God would
not, and that they would stand for the things that could not be shaken
by the shock of arms. A large number of young men of the community were
in the service, and they wanted to be in a spiritual condition to take
care of such of them as should return. Though soldiers of both armies
were frequently in the neighborhood, the church continued the service
of God and the discharge of Christian duty as if the peace of the
country was undisturbed. Consequently, when the war was over, they had
no alienations to adjust, no broken down walls to rebuild, no breaches
to close up. They needed no reconstruction. Their history demonstrates
that even cruel war need not necessarily alienate the people of God.
The congregation was not a unit in political sympathy, but they allowed
no mixing of politics with religion, in the pulpit or elsewhere, on
either side. Strong rebels from Kentucky and strong Union men from
Indiana filled the pulpit during the time, but with the understanding
that they preach the gospel and not politics--no difference was made.

Till 1867 the method of selecting church officers was by popular
ballot. They were thus selected according to the feelings, and tastes,
and prejudices of men, women and children, many of whom are always
controlled by personal likes and dislikes. At this time a change was
made that resulted in great good. The change was to this effect, that a
committee in whom the church have perfect confidence be appointed to
select elders and deacons. When selected, their names are submitted to
the congregation, and two weeks given during which objections may be
made privately to the committee. Should objections be made to any one,
which are considered valid, and can not be removed, that name is
dropped and another substituted. It is understood from the beginning,
by all parties, that the objections are to be kept private, and if a
candidate is dropped on account of objections, he has no right to
demand the name of the objector nor the objections. When objections are
not made, or they no longer exist, it is understood that the selection
is ratified by the church. The parties are then set apart to their work
by fasting, prayer and the laying on of hands. In this way a better
selection is made, and the church is much more impressed with the
importance of the official work, and of their obligation to those set
apart, as co-operants in the work. The plan gave entire satisfaction,
and the church ever after observed it.

When I began to preach for the church, I introduced a plan of
disciplinary work which I had observed since my labors with the
Crittenden Church. The leading idea in it was to save the offender, and
the church was impressed with that fact. The relatives and friends of
the offending party were enlisted in an effort with the preachers and
elders to save him, with the understanding that if this could not be
done, the law of the Lord must be enforced in his exclusion. Such
efforts rarely failed, and, when they did, those most likely to be hurt
about his exclusion felt that they had failed in trying to save him,
and that all was done that could be done. When such efforts failed, the
case was then stated to the church, and if any one thought that he
might accomplish something, and wished an opportunity to try, action
was delayed till he did what he could, and thus the whole moral force
of the church was exerted. When all felt that nothing more could be
done, the law of the Lord was executed, the church withdrew its
fellowship, and the occasion was made as solemn and impressive as
possible. There was no voting as to whether or not they would exclude
him. That is a matter of divine legislation on which we have no right
to vote. The sense of the congregation was taken only as to whether or
not they had done all they could to save the offender, and had thus
complied with the law of the Lord in this respect. In twenty years,
with much attention to disciplinary work, I have never had the least
trouble or evil consequence result from a case of exclusion.

In 1867 they built a new house of worship, about a quarter of a mile
nearer Milton than was the old house. It is a large and substantial
frame.

When Mt. Byrd was established there were several strong Methodist and
Baptist churches within a few miles. They have all dwindled into
comparative insignificance, and Mt. Byrd has the controlling influence
in the county. Her territory extends sixteen miles along the Ohio River
and eight miles back.

I engaged to preach for Mt. Byrd Church one-half my time, beginning the
first of October, 1869. It is thirty miles from New Liberty, and at
that time it was reached by a dirt road terribly muddy in the winter. I
went back and forth on horseback. I arranged to have my two Sundays
come together, and spent the intervening week visiting the congregation
and preaching at some neighboring school-house. I thus made but one
trip a month. My health was very poor, and each visit I made they
thought would be the last.

After I began preaching at Mt. Byrd, I discovered a very serious
trouble in the church, of which I before knew nothing. I saw, from its
nature and the men involved in it, that unless it was peaceably and
permanently settled, the church would be effectually ruined. And
circumstances indicated that it was next to impossible to secure such a
settlement. I was deeply concerned about it.

The difficulty grew out of a man's making engagements to teach two
schools at once, and consequently having to disappoint one of the
parties. They had depended on him, and thereby lost the opportunity of
getting a good teacher. They felt grievously wronged, and sued for
damages. The teacher was a poor man, not able to fight the suit, and he
so worked upon his patrons that they promised to stand by him and
defend him in court. A large number of good and influential brethren
were involved in it, and they had worked up a very bad state of
feeling. Bro. J. S. Maddox, the leading elder, stood by me faithfully
in the work. We labored incessantly day and night for over two weeks
before we accomplished our purpose. I preached in the two school-houses
alternately, day and night, so as to reach all of both parties; for
they would not go to each other's houses. The rest of the time was
spent in visiting and laboring privately with the disaffected members.
The preaching was all directed to the one special end. Sometimes we
would have it nearly completed as we thought, and then the trouble
would break out again. One day our hearts beat with joyous hope, and
the next we were depressed and discouraged.

Finally, they agreed to arbitrate the matter if I alone would act as
arbitrator. I tried hard to reason them out of this, for I felt almost
certain that I would sacrifice myself in so doing. I felt that I could
hardly hope to retain the friendship of both parties in such a
complicated matter, over which there was so much bad feeling. But,
finding that there was no other way of settlement, I concluded that the
sacrifice of myself was a small matter as compared with the ruin of the
church, and I consented. All parties agreed to abide by my decision in
good faith, bury all their animosities, and be at peace among
themselves. I wrote out carefully the whole case, giving my decision on
each point, and the reasons therefor. I read it at a meeting at which
all were present. They all signed it, and the trouble was forever
ended. Both parties kept it in good faith, and I retained their
fraternal love.

When the church had been "rounded up," and all dead matter cast off, we
had 240 members on the list. Some new deacons were appointed, till we
had seven in all. Not because there were seven appointed at Jerusalem,
but because we needed that number and had material out of which to make
them. We divided the congregation into seven districts, each deacon
having his boundary defined. Each had a list of all the members in his
district, and it was his duty to obtain a subscription from each member
and collect it. Each child of a family made his own subscription. All
were expected to give something, unless they were beneficiaries of the
church. This system has several advantages: (1) More money is obtained
than when given only by heads of families. (2) Each one feels that he
is a factor in the church, not an overlooked cipher, and this does him
good. It stimulates him to do something. (3) In training each one to
give, however little they may be able, there is developed in them a
right spirit and a very important principle.

A business meeting was held every three months. At these the deacons
made their reports, and squared accounts with the preacher. Thus the
exact financial condition of the church was known. Cases of discipline,
missions, charities, and everything pertaining to the interests of the
church, were freely discussed. A record was kept of everything done.
These meetings were held on Saturday, and the next day a statement was
made to the church of what was done, and their sanction obtained to
such matters as it was thought best to submit.

With a thorough organization, systematic working, and the happy
settlement of the big trouble over which all were filled with anxiety,
the church took on new life, and ever after continued in an active,
growing condition.

The brethren soon petitioned me to move into their midst. I jocularly
told them I would do so if they would give me a good home. The
suggestion was no sooner made than accepted. Bro. J. H. Moffett gave me
eight acres of ground just where I wanted it, and he and the rest of
the brethren agreed to build me a house. I was permitted to plan just
such a house as I wanted, and they would see that it was built. No
obligation whatever was required of me as a condition. I was free to
dispose of it and leave them at any time, if I wished to do so. It was
all a matter of trust. The outside improvements were also made mostly
by the brethren. I may say here that in the fifteen years I preached
for that church, not a man ever charged me a cent for anything he ever
did for me, and they did everything that I needed to have done.

In the spring of 1870 we organized a Sunday-school. It ranged usually,
one year with another, from 125 to 150. One peculiar feature about it
was that a large number of old people attended. In a word, the _church_
went into the Sunday-school. The teachers have all the time been of the
older brethren and sisters, and many men and women of middle age and
beyond have been in the classes. We kept a record of the attendance,
recitations, contributions, etc., thus indicating the regularity of the
work. The record shows that there were perfect, in recitations and
attendance, twenty-six in 1873, thirty-four in 1874, and twenty in
1875. This is a fair sample for the fifteen years. The school is still
in a fine condition. Some members have not missed a single recitation
in five years.

From the beginning we have adhered to the rule of opening on the last
Sunday in April and continuing till Christmas. The congregation being
scattered over a large district, and the roads being bad in winter, we
have been in the habit of dismissing the children for the rest of the
year; but all the older people form one class, and are taught the
Scriptures by the preacher or elder of the church from the first of
January till the last of April.

I am satisfied this is a good arrangement for churches in the country,
where the membership is much scattered. It works well at Mt. Byrd, and
I don't see why it may not work well elsewhere under the same
circumstances.

CHAPTER XIV.

He Moves to Mt. Byrd. Debate with J. W. Fitch. Preaches at Madison,
Ind. Protracted Meetings at Columbia, Burksville, Thompson's Church,
Dover, Germantown, Pleasant Hill, Burksville again, Beech Grove, Dover
again.

In September, 1870, we moved to the neighborhood of Mt. Byrd. My house
not being completed, we lived in the lower end of Hunter's Bottom,
above Milton. We spent here a very pleasant year. I gave a good deal of
time to the building, helping in whatever I could do, which was quite a
benefit to my health. I continued to preach at New Liberty half my time
during this year and 1871. The last of October, 1871, we got into our
new house. It is about three hundred yards from the church, beautifully
situated on the main thoroughfare to Milton and Madison.

In 1871 I held two meetings in Carrollton, Ky. The cause was very low
there at that time. Our band was feeble; and the place almost entirely
given to sectarianism. We had no place of worship, and the court-house
in which we met was not comfortable. Some of the prominent members had
become very worldly. Because I preached against their sins, they became
much offended, but the offense was to reformation. They afterwards
built a meeting-house, and they are now in good condition.

Nov. 2, 1871, I began my first public religious debate. It was at Mt.
Byrd, and with Presiding Elder J. W. Fitch. It came about in this way:
At a Quarterly Conference in the county, the preachers and prominent
men present, to the number of fourteen, drew up and sent me a formal
challenge to meet C. W. Miller, at Mt. Byrd (this being by far the
largest house in the county), and debate certain designated
propositions. At that time I had a very bad opinion of Mr. Miller, and
there was no good feeling existing between us. In reply to their
communication I said: "You have a number of brethren in Kentucky of
equal or superior ability to Mr. Miller, whom I can meet as Christian
gentlemen, and when I have the promise of such a disputant, I shall be
ready to arrange propositions." They then applied to Mr. Fitch, and a
correspondence between us was opened. My purpose then, and ever since
in debating with Methodists, was to discuss the _system_ of Methodism,
instead of a few isolated propositions. In that way the people see what
_Methodism_ is; in this, they do not. We finally agreed that each
would affirm that the polity and practice of the church with which he
was identified are authorized by the word of God.

An immense crowd attended the debate. The weather was beautiful, and we
had dinner on the ground. Each affirmed for three days. My affirmation
closed Saturday afternoon. The President Moderator announced that the
debate would be resumed at 10 o'clock Monday, on the polity of the
Methodist Church, Mr. Fitch affirming. Monday, Mr. Fitch declined to
discuss the polity of his church, giving as a reason that it was of no
consequence, and he wanted to give all his time to more important
matters. He further stated that he had agreed to discuss the polity of
the church simply in order to get the debate, not that it was worth
discussing. I happened to have in my pocket a letter in which he had
insisted on the discussion of the polity of the two churches as a very
important matter. This was read. The President Moderator--Col.
Preston--ruled that he must either debate the question, as agreed upon,
or concede that it was indefensible; and he yielded. We learned
afterward, just what we then suspected, that the preachers present, of
whom there were about twelve, held a council on Saturday night, and
protested against his discussing the polity of the church.

The debate created a great deal of interest and investigation in the
community, and within nine months following, over one hundred were
added to the church. Of these, quite a number were from the Baptists
and Methodists.

A rather curious thing occurred during the debate. While on the
practice of the M. E. Church, I made a raid on the mourners' bench,
describing its workings and demanding authority for it. Mr. Fitch
jumped up, very much excited, and called me to order. His point of
order was that the M. E. Church, South, had abandoned the mourners'
bench; that it was now countenanced only by a few ignorant preachers
for whose conduct the church was not willing to be held responsible.
And as it was no longer a part of the practice of the church, he was
not there to affirm that it was authorized by the word of God. The
President appealed to all the Methodist preachers present to know if
that was the case. The last one of them said "yes." In three weeks I
went to Carrollton to hold a meeting, and the two most prominent
preachers at the debate were there in a meeting, and they had the
mourners' bench out twice a day, and six or eight mourners were
striving to "get through!" What are we to think of such as that?

By preaching at adjacent school-houses, the membership of the church
was considerably increased. This plan was continued till my editorial
work on the _Guide_ interfered with it.

About seven miles back from Mt. Byrd the Methodists had an old house,
and a weak church where they years ago had a strong one. We had quite a
number of members in that neighborhood. By our assisting in rebuilding
the old chapel, we held by written contract a fourth interest in it.
This gave us the use of the house one Sunday in the month, and at such
other times as it was not occupied by the Methodists. This we did in
order to have a place to preach in that community, and especially for
protracted meetings. We also rented the Presbyterian house in Milton,
by the year, for the same purpose.

In 1872 I engaged to preach at Carrollton and White's Run, both in
Carroll county, once a month at each. I held a meeting for each church,
and got the membership, to some extent, reconstructed.

But in May I was called to preach for the church in Madison, Ind.,
one-half my time. It being so convenient--just across the river from
me--and an important field, I got the churches at Carrollton and
White's Run to release me, and I entered on my work in Madison the
first of June, 1871. I preached for them the rest of that year. I held
a protracted meeting in October. The number of additions for the seven
months was small. Finding that they needed a preacher all the time,
since they had no one to lead them in the absence of a preacher, and
wishing to devote half my time to evangelizing, I resigned and induced
them to get Bro. J. H. Hardin in my place.

In November, 1872, I had a fine meeting at Columbia, Ky. This was
before the college there was built. Bro. J. H. Hardin was preaching for
the church. Bro. Azbill has since built up the church, but was that
year in Butler University. The fruits of my first meeting there are
manifest to this day. Prominent among these is the efficient work of
Dr. U. L. Taylor, who was formerly a Methodist, but for years has been
the stay of the congregation and college in that place.

In 1873 I gave one-half my time to holding meetings. In March I went to
Burksville, Cumberland county, Ky. The church had had no preaching for
a long time, and was not meeting on the Lord's day. There were a few
faithful ones, especially sisters, but the majority had gone to the
world. We had over forty additions. The membership was organized for
work, a Sunday-school was established, a preacher secured, and the
church entered on a long period of prosperity. Two preachers were the
result of this meeting--C. M. McPherson, of the _Apostolic Guide_,
and E. J. Ellison, now of Glasgow, Ky. They had been immersed, but,
with many others, had strayed from the fold. They were reclaimed and
put to work, and to-day they are faithful ministers of the Word.

As showing what may result from a word timely spoken, a young lady from
Nashville, now the wife of Bro. McPherson, was visiting a sister at
Burksville. She was a devoted Episcopalian, talented and accomplished.
One day she was telling me about her church and preacher, etc., and the
work she was trying to do for the Master. I asked her if she had ever
obeyed the gospel. She looked amazed, and remarked that that was a
strange question to ask a church member. I told her I feared that many
church members, and even devoted ones, had never obeyed the gospel; and
in a few words explained the reason why. She soon made the confession
and was immersed, stating afterwards that that question led to an
entire change of religious views.

In May I held a meeting at Thompson's Church, in Robinson county. The
meeting was of no special importance; the number of additions was
small, and no important results any way. Willis Cox was preaching for
the church.

At this meeting the wealthiest man in the church was greatly taken with
the preaching, said he intended to go to Dover, twenty odd miles away,
to hear me there, had three of his children immersed, and was almost
too happy to behave himself. He gave a _two cent copper_ to help pay
the expenses of the meeting! This was all they could get out of him. He
got so happy that it dried up the fountain of his liberality.

In June I held a meeting at Dover, Mason county. This was an old
church, and once a prosperous one, but a bad spirit had been engendered
during the war, and it had virtually gone to pieces. They were meeting,
and had a preacher employed, Bro. Willis Cox; but only a few members
were concerned about the things of Zion. They had had no additions for
so long that the town was full of young people who had grown up out of
the church. The brethren expected no additions, but wanted a meeting
for the encouragement of the faithful few. This was the way they put it
when they engaged me to hold the meeting. The house was well-filled
from the first, and in a few nights crowded. They paid profound
attention to the Word. This led me to hope for additions, but the
brethren hooted at the idea. I preached only at night and on the Lord's
day. On the ninth night they made a move, and continued to move till
fifty-seven were added. I baptized fifty. The deepest religious
interest prevailed that I ever had in any of my meetings. No telling
what the result would have been, had I not been taken sick and
compelled to leave. As I was going to the boat to return home, I went
by the church. It was crowded. I had just a few minutes. I went in and
explained the situation, and proposed to take the confession of any
that wished to make it, before I left. Without a word of exhortation
two came forward. Thus I left them.

Nearly all the young people of the town came into the church, so that
there was no outside element left to get up mischief, and it is
gratifying to know how faithfully they held out. The church has ever
since been in active working order.

In July I held a meeting at Germantown. Bro. J. C. Walden was preaching
for them. We had a pleasant meeting, but no special results.

In August I held another good meeting at my old home church--Pleasant
Hill, in Oldham county. I held them a meeting each year for five or six
years. While they were slow to assist me when I was struggling for a
start, after I got well under way they were quite liberal in reward of
my labor. But one dollar at the first would have done me more good,
because more needed, than five at the time they were given. This is a
mistake made by many churches.

In October, 1873, I held another meeting at Burksville. This was also a
fine meeting, but not quite so many additions were made as at the one
in March preceding.

In November I had a good meeting at Beech Grove, a country church in
Trimble county, eight miles from Mt. Byrd.

In December I was again at Dover. We had another excellent meeting, but
there was not material for so many converts as at first. This visit was
mainly for the membership, to rid the church of some dead material, and
put it into good working order. On account of getting sick at the
previous meeting, I had to leave before this needed work was
accomplished. Thus ended my labors for 1873.

CHAPTER XV.

Begins Preaching at Beech Grove. Debates with Elder Hiner. Amusing
Incident. Holds many Meetings. Debates with Elder Frogge. Debates again
with Elder Hiner. Repudiates Miller's Book. Sick Again. Holds more
Meetings.

In 1874 I engaged to preach once a month for the Beech Grove Church.

Beginning January 20th, at a Methodist church near Beech Grove, I held
a debate with Elder Robert Hiner. The debate continued eight days. It
was largely attended, though the roads and weather were bad. The
feeling throughout the debate was good, but hardly so much so as at the
one held at Mt. Byrd with Elder Fitch. A very amusing thing occurred.
Mr. Hiner brought all of his books, and, coming through Bedford, he got
all of Mr. Young's, the preacher at that place. They made a perfect
wagon load. He obtained a long table, like a carpenter's bench, and
stacked them up on it. I soon discovered that it was all for a show,
and the question was how to most successfully burlesque it. I first
thought of sending to Bedford and getting a large wagon-load of Patent
Office Reports and the like, and stacking them up on my table. But in
my room I discovered a little toy-book, about an inch long, called
"Orphan Willie." This I took to church in my vest pocket, with a few
leaves carefully turned down. After alluding to his "silent artillery,"
as I had done before, I drew out "Orphan Willie," and planted it on the
pulpit in position to effectually blow up his entire battery, with the
assurance that that was going to be done. I had laughed over the idea
till I thought I could do it without laughing. But in this I failed;
and the whole audience, Methodist preachers and all, got into such a
laugh that I lost half my speech. But the books were put out of sight,
and thus ended the scarecrow business.

During the debate Mr. Hiner expressed the opinion that I would yet come
back to the Methodist church. I told him he might as well talk of a
full-grown rooster, spurs and all, going back into the shell that
hatched it. For a long time this gave me the sobriquet of "Old
Chicken." Some brethren use it even now.

While on the design of baptism, Mr. Hiner remarked that if he believed
baptism was for the remission of sins, he would live on a creek or
river and be baptized every time he sinned. I gave it as my opinion
that in that case he would find it a very difficult matter to keep any
dry clothes!

During this year I held meetings at Louisville, Crittenden, Cove Hill,
Burksville and Glasgow, with varied success.

In 1875 I held meetings at Glasgow, Carrollton, Campbellsville,
Burksville, Bedford, Hodgenville and Columbia.

In July of this year I debated twelve days, at Burksville, with
Presiding Elder Frogge. He was the great champion of Methodism in
Southern Kentucky. He had had a great many debates, and, while he was
very ready and glib in his line of debating, I soon discovered that his
scholarship and reading were both very limited, exceedingly so; and I
intentionally widened the range of controversy more than was my wont,
to see what he would do--and he was completely lost. His forte in
debating is wit and ridicule, by which he gets his opponents angry and
confused. He tried this hard for three days, till he rendered himself
offensive to all. It was rumored that his brethren then held a council
and told him that this must be stopped; that he must debate the
questions on their merits or quit; that he was bringing the cause into
disrepute. The county paper, edited by a scholarly Episcopalian, was
very severe in its criticism of his conduct. This caused much
excitement among the Methodists. When he had to quit his efforts to get
me excited, he was no longer himself. This debate was held at the
request of the Baptists. Mr. Frogge and a Baptist preacher had debated
near there the fall before, and, the Baptist having failed, had to give
up the discussion. Mr. Frogge then left a broad and boastful challenge
for any immersionist. The Baptists were very sore over it, and when I
went there in the winter to hold a meeting they requested me to accept
his challenge. I referred them to the brethren, and with their
concurrence I entered upon the discussion.

In November I held another debate with Mr. Hiner, this time at Bedford,
Ky. It continued eight days. This created the most intense excitement I
ever saw in a meeting-house. At the two previous debates in the county
I repudiated C. W. Miller's book (_Points of Controversy_) as
authority. It is the book that Dr. Ditzler exposed. Our opponents said
I would not dare to do that where Miller was. They had him at this
debate. Mr. Hiner read from it a passage purporting to be from Moses
Stuart. I asked him what he was reading from. He said, "'Points of
Controversy,' and you challenge it if you dare." I then asked for the
page in Stuart's book where the language occurred. He refused to give
it. I had Stuart, and the inference was that he didn't want the
comparison made. When I got up I referred to what had passed about the
quotation, saying I was willing to take Stuart for it if he had given
me the page, but as for "Points of Controversy," I could take nothing
on its authority, for I repudiated the book and its author as authority
in anything. This provoked a personal wrangle with Miller, who was
close to me, after the debate--for the day was over. The excitement was
intense as we passed and repassed our compliments. Finally the house
refused to hear Mr. M. Even his own brethren rose as one man and went
out of the house. This so infuriated him that he left the place.

January 1, 1876, I went on the _Apostolic Times_ with I. B. Grubbs and
S. A. Kelley. I had been writing for it every two weeks, by contract,
for several years. From this time I devoted special attention to it
every week, and, with the exception of a few months from the sale of
the _Times_ to Dr. Hopson and Cozine till the establishing of the
_Guide_, I have been constantly engaged in editorial work.

About the middle of January I was taken down with intercostal
rheumatism and spinal trouble, and was very low for several months.
Very little hope was entertained of my recovery. After the intense
suffering was over, my system was so racked that convalescence was
slow. The doctors agreed that it was due to nervous exhaustion produced
by overwork. For years I had known nothing practically of mental rest,
and the year preceding was unusually severe on me, in my feeble state
of health. When I held the twelve days' debate at Burksville the summer
before, I went from my bed to the house and from the house to my bed. I
was hardly any better in the one held a few weeks before. These labors,
with those given to my home church of over three hundred members,
together with holding seven protracted meetings, and writing for the
_Times_, all the while in feeble health, brought me down very low.

I wish here to emphasize the fact that I have never gone out of my way
to either seek or shun a religious debate. I repeat this statement
here, lest some might think otherwise from the fact that I have held so
many.

After getting up again, I held meetings at Antioch, in Shelby county,
Glasgow, Burksville, South Elkhorn, and at some other points. This has
always been congenial employment for me.

CHAPTER XVI.

Continues to Evangelize. Dr. Cook's Prescription. Incident at Glendale.
Peculiar Feature in the Meeting at Madisonville. The Fractious Preacher
at Sonora. Closes his Evangelistic Labors. Establishes the _Old Path
Guide_. The Bruner Debate.

In 1877 I spent much time evangelizing, being called to hold protracted
meetings at many important places. I accepted work at seven of these,
and my labors were fruitful in the conversion of sinners and in
building up the saints in their most holy faith; but I had to be away
from home a great deal, and my exposure in all kinds of weather, and
the wear and tear of constant preaching, increased my lung disease.

While preaching at Cynthiana my spinal trouble returned, causing me to
close abruptly, and I could preach no more till July. On my return from
Cynthiana, some friends in Cincinnati induced me to visit a Dr. Cook (I
think that is the name). He was celebrated for his skill in such
afflictions. He was a corpulent, jolly old gentleman, full of humor.
When I was introduced, he looked at me for a moment without coming
near, and said: "Well, sir, you don't laugh enough. You take too
serious a view of life. Why, sir, at least two inches of your spinal
marrow is inflamed, produced by nervous exhaustion, the result of
overwork and no mental recreation. I tell you, sir, all the medicine in
the world will do you no good till you quit that and cultivate
laziness. You must take a more cheerful view of life. And you must
learn to laugh, not giggle a little, but laugh away down to the bottom
of the abdomen. Then you will get well. I used to be a little, scrawny,
sallow, nervous, overworked thing like you are, but I saw it was going
to kill me, and I quit it and went to laughing, and now see what I am?"
And this was all the prescription he gave me. There is, doubtless, a
good deal of philosophy in it.

At Glendale a rather singular circumstance occurred. The first night of
the meeting, I observed a very intelligent looking lady in the
audience, and she was intensely interested. When we got back to the
place where I was stopping, I asked the sister who this lady was. She
gave her name, stating that she was the pride of the Methodist Church
in that country; that her talk at the love-feast a few weeks before had
been the topic of conversation ever since. I remarked that she would
not be a Methodist when that meeting was over. But they would not
listen to the idea that she would ever be anything but a Methodist. She
was present the second and third nights, and manifested the same
intense interest. The next morning early, she sent to ascertain if she
could have a private interview. When she came, she made her business
known at once. She wanted to learn if I would immerse her and let her
remain in the M. E. Church. Without answering her question, I asked her
what she wanted to be immersed for. She said she had become convinced
that she had never obeyed the gospel, and she wanted to be immersed
because it was the Saviour's will, and her sprinkling was not
authorized. "Well," said I, "why do you want to correct your life in
some things according to the divine authority, and not in others?" She
said she wanted to correct it in all respects where it was contrary to
divine authority. I then told her that there were a number of things in
the Methodist Church for which there was no more authority than there
is for infant baptism. She inquired what, and when I told her, she
said, "That will do," and right away I immersed her. She had been
brought up a Romanist, and while we were gone to the baptizing her
sister burnt her Bible. No special persecution followed her change to
the Methodists, but it was otherwise when she united with us. Her
relatives, so far as known to me, have never become reconciled.

The meeting at Madisonville, O., eighteen miles from Cincinnati, also
had a peculiar feature which I think worthy of mention. It was the
first preaching by our brethren ever heard in the place, and most of
those who made the confession had never before heard it made. The first
person called upon to make it answered aloud and distinctly: "Yes, sir;
I believe with my whole heart that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the
living God." All who followed answered in the same way. I wish it could
always be so.

In 1878 calls upon me to conduct meetings were multiplied, but I could
comply only with those from Vevay, Ind., Sonora, Ky., Dover, White's
Run, Columbia, Burksville, Glendale, Oakland and Owenton.

At Sonora, a Methodist preacher attended a few times, and he was
remarkably fractious. Several times he interrupted me. One night, in
preaching on the "Plan of Salvation," commenting on the case of the
jailer, I remarked that the fact that the apostles sometimes baptized
households, was no evidence that they baptized infants, since there are
many households without infants. He spoke up very much excited, saying,
"May I ask you a question?" I told him yes. "Well, now," he says,
"suppose we take a common sense view of that matter. Suppose you were
to come to town, and start out to baptizing households, and you were to
go to Bro. Creel's house and mine, wouldn't you have to baptize
infants?" (Bro. Creel had five little fellows, and he seven.) I
answered, "Yes, Bro. Campbell, I admit that whenever you go to a
preacher's house, you are very apt to find them." The whole house
laughed outright, and they never ceased laughing at that preacher till
he left the circuit.

These meetings were all successful in the way of additions, except that
at Vevay. But I have never kept an account of my additions, and
remember the number at only a few meetings.

This year my regular evangelistic work closed on account of editing the
_Guide_ and preaching half the time at Portland Avenue Church, in
Louisville.

In January, 1879, I established the _Old Path Guide_, in Louisville. I
was owner, proprietor, editor, bookkeeper, treasurer, mailing clerk,
general agent, and special "boss." This required all my time, except
what I had necessarily to give to preaching on the Lord's day and the
preparation therefor. The _Guide_ was a success, financially, from
the beginning. I put money in bank the first three months of each year
to pay every dollar of expense to the end. The net profits the first
year were over $600, and this increased each year for the three years
that I managed it all myself. The third year would have netted $1,000,
but in the midst of it I made the change, transferring one-half of it
to Cline, Marrs & Co., and giving them control of its business
management. This was the beginning of financial embarrassment. The
change was demanded by my failing health, and I could no longer do
everything, as I had been doing from the first.

That year I engaged to preach half my time for the Portland Avenue
Church. In order to serve the Glendale church, which is fifty miles on
the Louisville & Nashville road, the Mt. Byrd church released me one
Sunday in the month. During the year the Portland Avenue Church
increased 120 per cent.

In February, 1879, I held a meeting for the Campbell St. church,
Louisville. The meeting proved to be quite beneficial to the
congregation, in many respects. I boarded in the city during the
winter, and moved my family down in April.

The church at Glendale had a partnership house--a very common thing in
all Southwestern Kentucky. This prevented their meeting regularly on
the Lord's day, and also prevented a Sunday-school, as the house was
occupied more than half the time by others. Knowing that I could
accomplish no substantial and enduring good while this state of things
lasted, I made it a condition of preaching for them that they build a
new house. This they did. The house is a neat frame, well finished
inside and out, and large enough for all ordinary use. It was promptly
built and paid for.

In November I held a debate there--the first use made of the new
house--with I. W. Bruner, a Baptist preacher. The Baptist church there
and ours arranged for a debate, on certain specified propositions, and
each had the privilege of selecting its representative. Consequently I
had nothing to do with getting up the debate or arranging for it. I
never challenged a man for debate in my life, and never held one except
by special invitation. And I have declined more debates than I ever
held. While I was peculiarly fond of it, I never debated simply for the
sake of debating; hence, if the circumstances were not favorable for
good results, I always declined. This debate with Mr. Bruner was, I
think, the poorest one I ever held, and I lost all interest in it
before it was half over.

CHAPTER XVII.

Visits Midway. Attends the Missouri State Convention. Reflections.
Annual Sermons. Last Protracted Meeting. Kindness of Mt. Byrd, Glendale
and Smithfield Churches. Gives up Office Work. Goes to Eureka, Ill.
Country Home. Takes Cold at the Lexington Convention. Goes to Florida.

In October, 1879, I visited Midway, and though I had virtually closed
my evangelistic labors when I began the _Guide_, I could not resist the
desire to hold a meeting there. It is the seat of our Female Orphan
School, one of our grandest enterprises. Bro. Shouse was then preaching
for the church and Bro. Lucy was president of the school. Their
companionship was highly enjoyable. What a feast to the soul is the
companionship of wise, godly men! It has for me the highest happiness I
expect to know this side of heaven. And will it not be a very prominent
factor of that which constitutes heaven? Any place in the universe of
God where my brethren and the Saviour are will be heaven enough for me.

In 1880 I continued at the Avenue Church, Louisville, Mt. Byrd and
Glendale. The State Board of the Missouri Christian Missionary Society
invited me to deliver an address before the State Convention, held that
year at Moberly. In order to justify me in a visit to the State, they
arranged several meetings for me--one in connection with the convention
of Audrain county, at a country church near Mexico, called Sunrise; one
at New London, and one at Slater. These meetings were all enjoyable and
profitable; but the one in Audrain county was only for a few days, and
resulted in but few additions.

The address at Moberly was on "Our Strength and Our Weakness." The
convention was largely attended, and it was a great pleasure to meet so
many brethren known only by name, and loved for their work's sake, and
to renew the acquaintance of others known before.

The addresses of Haley, Procter, Jones and others were very able. That
of Jones was speculative, and the basic principle of it, in my opinion,
erroneous. Several of those Missouri preachers have done much harm by
preaching a false philosophy instead of the gospel of Christ. Bro.
Procter, whom we all allow to be one of our best men and ablest
preachers, went from this convention to California and held several
meetings. Within a few months I had several applications to come out
there to undo some of his work, and I should have been glad to comply
had my other duties permitted.

In 1881 I resigned at the Avenue Church, as they needed more pastoral
labor than my other duties would allow me to perform. I gave half my
time to Mt. Byrd, one-fourth to Glendale, and one-fourth to my old home
church--Pleasant Hill, in Oldham county. It was a pleasure to visit
these old friends of my youth once a month. Old memories were revived,
and the past, in a sense, lived over again. Besides, several members of
the families related to my wife and to myself were enabled to attend.
To preach to them, after years of separation, was a great pleasure. Mt.
Byrd moved on in the even tenor of its way, in a prosperous condition.

In August of this year, and also the year previous, I preached the
annual sermon at the Clark county, Ind., Coöperation Meeting. The
county contains sixteen or eighteen churches, including those of
Jeffersonville and New Albany, and for more than forty years they have
had an annual county meeting. Representatives from all the churches
attend, as a rule, and the condition, etc., of each church is given. It
brings together a great congregation, and the day meetings are held in
the woods.

In September of this year the _Guide_ was changed to a weekly. While
the monthly magazine was the most desirable for preservation, it was
thought that a weekly would best serve the cause of Christ, and
peculiar circumstances at that time seemed to demand it.

In November I went to Poplar Plains and held the last protracted
meeting of my life. It was a pleasant one, and attended with some good
results.

In 1882 I preached at Mt. Byrd, Glendale and Smithfield, that is, I
engaged to preach for these churches, but my health was such that I
preached but little to any. At my first visit to Smithfield, the first
Lord's day in the year, I was taken sick, and I never visited them once
when I was not sick. I was never able to so preach as to do them or
myself justice. While this was equally so at the other churches, I did
not regret it so much, since I had been laboring for them a long time.
The work at Smithfield was virtually a failure, and early in the fall I
had to give it up entirely. Yet they paid me for the whole year, and
made me a present of about $150 besides. They are a noble band of
brethren, and one of the most liberal I ever knew.

The church at Glendale also paid for the entire year, though I lost
much time and resigned in October. It also made me a generous present
in addition.

Speaking of their generosity, reminds me that the Mt. Byrd Church
continued my salary three or four years when I was able to do little or
nothing in return. In 1876 I lost most of the year through spinal and
rheumatic affections; I did very little in 1882; I was in the church
but once in 1883, and in 1884 I attempted to talk only a few times, yet
all these years my salary continued. When the _Guide_ was sold to the
present Guide Printing and Publishing Company, which relieved me of
financial embarrassments which the failure of C. C. Cline & Co. had
produced, I refused to longer accept support from the church.

In April, 1882, I was compelled, on account of failing health, to give
up the office work of the _Guide_. I had been under a physician all the
year, and grew constantly worse. I allowed the office work to make a
heavier draft on me than some men do. I always knew every paragraph
that was going into the paper, and where and how it would appear. I
stood by the foreman and noticed everything that went in--when it went
in, what was put in and what was left out--till the forms were locked
up. I have never been able to get any one else to do it. But that is my
idea of editing a paper. This thing of giving printers a mass of matter
and telling them to put it in, leaving them to add or diminish, and put
in where and what they please, is simply a burlesque on the business;
and yet this is the way it is largely done. I have had no little
annoyance over just that thing. Had I been willing to edit in that way
I could have continued, but I would not consent to follow such a
course.

In May I went to Eureka College, to preach the baccalaureate sermon. I
arranged to make the trip as easy as possible, on account of my
feebleness, by stopping over at Indianapolis for the night, in both
going and returning. The trip was every way pleasant, and the
associations there very agreeable. I hoped it would be a benefit to me
in the way of recreation, but on reaching home I was taken down with
typho-malarial fever. I was quite low for several weeks. I got up with
a trouble in my throat, causing a constant coughing and hacking, which
has increased without intermission to the present time.

In September, realizing that my health was permanently broken down, we
went back to our country home. I was satisfied that if I should even
continue to edit the _Guide_, I would not be able to assume the
responsibilities of the office, and that the best place for me, under
the circumstances, was my country home. After going back to the country
I rallied considerably, and attended the General Convention, at
Lexington, about the 20th of October. Here I took life memberships in
both the General and Foreign Societies for the Mt. Byrd Church. This
was the first church taking membership in those societies, so far as I
am informed. It has since become quite common. Last year (1884) I
succeeded in getting their constitutions so amended as to provide for
this.

I took cold at the convention, and relapsed. My physicians were very
fearful of tubercular trouble, and advised me to go to Florida for the
winter. We went the first of December, not knowing whither we went, but
it seems that the hand of Providence guided us. We knew not where to
turn, but concluded to try DeLand, where we had some acquaintances, and
there look out for accommodations. In a few days after reaching DeLand
old Bro. Anderson, who lived two miles in the country, heard we were
there and came in for us. He had formerly seen a copy of the _Guide_
and subscribed for it. This good man rented for us a convenient house
near him, paid the rent, set us up, and would not allow me to pay for
anything we needed while there if he knew it and could prevent it. His
wife was as kind as he, and did all in her power to make our stay in
"The Land of Flowers" comfortable and inexpensive.

The Great Teacher has said, in a well-known passage, "It is more
blessed to give than to receive." What, then, must not have been the
blessedness of this pious couple in thus caring for a poor broken-down
invalid and his family, whom Providence had guided to their hospitable
home? May God reward them richly for their kindness.

CHAPTER XVIII.

Organizes a Church at DeLand. Health Improves. Relapses. Starts Home.
Resignation. Sells His Interest in the _Guide_. Begins Writing again.
Attends Two Conventions. Goes to Texas. At Home Again. Works On.

While at DeLand we gathered up the few scattered Disciples in and
around the town, and organized them into a church. I felt quite
confident, from the character of the material, that the enterprise
would be a success. It has thus far proved to be so; they have not
failed to keep up their weekly meetings to break the loaf and edify one
another after the apostolic model. They now have a nice house, and have
employed a preacher and given him a home among them. This is just what
all churches should aim to do; all may not be able, but they should aim
to accomplish it. The church is in a prosperous condition. I was able
to talk to them occasionally while there.

The climate of Florida agreed with me. My cough left me in a few weeks,
my appetite became good, and I got heavier than I ever was before. I
went there weighing 130 pounds, and increased to 148. In good health,
my usual weight was 144 pounds, and it had been many years since I
weighed that. I should have come home in this improved condition but
for my own imprudence. I don't blame the country, Providence, nor
anything else but myself. I was passionately fond of hunting, as I have
ever been. I hunted a great deal, and frequently got overheated, and
took cold; sometimes got my feet wet when in the woods. Thus I had
several backsets. But still I was in that condition when the time came
to return home. The day before we were to start, I concluded I must
have one more hunt. It had rained the night before; the sand was damp;
it was cloudy, quite warm, and a strong south wind was blowing. I would
get warm in walking (the sand there is very slavish to walk in), and
would sit down and let the wind cool me off. I should have had more
discretion; but sometimes people act with very little sense about such
things. Before I reached the house I felt acute inflammation of the
mucus membrane, to the bottom of my lungs. In three hours fever set in,
and I was completely prostrated. I remained there about three weeks,
and the doctors urged my return as the only chance of recovery. They
considered that very hazardous, on account of exposure to cold; but to
stay there was less hopeful. I was taken to the boat, carried on board
by two men, then carried off at Jacksonville to a hack, taken to a
hotel, thence to the train. I secured a good berth in a sleeper, and
got through without the least trouble. I improved, every mile of the
way; but as soon as I got home I went down again, and was extremely low
for some time.

My dread of dying in Florida and having my wife return with my body,
was such that I concentrated all my prayers to that one point. I prayed
the Lord to enable me to get home, that I might die in the midst of my
family. I felt and prayed that if He would enable me to reach home, He
could have the rest all His own way, without any further petition. He
enabled me to rally, gave a week of the best weather of the whole
season, brought me home under the most favorable circumstances, and I
never afterwards felt free to ask Him to restore me to health, and have
never done it. It may be wrong, but I promised to let Him have the rest
all His own way, and my prayers have ever since conformed to that idea.

I never could have believed, till I experienced it, that one could
become so indifferent as to whether he lived or died, I saw many days,
after my return from Florida, when it was a matter of perfect
indifference to me; previous anxiety to get home, and the resolution to
leave all the rest to the Lord, had no doubt much to do with it. I
observed this, however: that as hope revived, a desire to live would
arise in proportion. When there was little or no prospect, there was
little or no concern.

When I was at my worst, I decided, taking my past and present condition
into consideration, the medicine I was taking, the attention received,
etc., that if I did not take a turn for the better by a certain day,
then in three days the case would be entirely hopeless. In the
afternoon of that day the change came. That evening I took some
nourishment--the first for fourteen days.

After I sufficiently recovered to be able to do anything, I was anxious
to get my business arranged, with a view to death. I never expected to
be able to write another editorial, and I was concerned about making
some arrangement by which to get rid of the _Guide_ and its
responsibility. I was not pleased with its business management, and did
not want to leave it as the property of my family, not knowing what
trouble it might give nor what expense it might involve them in. And
without a change in management, I knew it could never be of any profit.
I wrote for Bro. Srygley to come, and I sold him my remaining
half-interest. My purpose was to resign, and thus have no further
connection with it. But he would not buy unless I would agree to let my
name remain, with a promise to resume the responsibility of chief
editor if I should ever get able; and the firm would consent to the
sale only upon these conditions. So I had to sell upon those
conditions, or not sell at all.

The latter part of September the company urged me to begin to write
again, if it were at all possible, even if it were only a few
paragraphs each week. They said the impression everywhere entertained
that I would not recover, was injuring the paper very much. The people
were losing interest in it. They insisted that I should counteract that
feeling as much as possible. Under this pressure, though confined to my
bed and suffering every hour, I began writing, the first of October,
and never after missed a week. That winter I stayed at home, and was
not out of my room for eight months. The last of August I started to
Midway, to see Dr. Lucy. I got as far as Louisville, and could get no
further. We dispatched for the Doctor, and he came down. After resting
a few days I got home, the last of August, and I was not out of the
door again till the last of April. During that winter I did a large
amount of writing, besides my weekly work on the _Guide_.

June 10 I went to Louisville to attend the International Sunday-school
Convention, but was able to get out only a few times. I attended the
State meeting at Paris, but was able to take no part. I greatly enjoyed
meeting with the brethren, and hearing them concerning the things of
the kingdom of God. These convocations are seasons of refreshing from
the presence of the Lord.

The first of October we went to Mason, in South-west Texas, to spend
the winter. Here, as at De Land, it looked as if the hand of Providence
guided us. We knew no one there, but we found some of the dearest and
best friends of our lives. They had been taking the _Guide_, and, in
competition with several other places that wanted us, made such a
liberal offer that our trip cost us nothing. They seemed to anticipate
all our wants, and find great pleasure in supplying them. The Lord has
always blessed me with many good friends--more than I deserved. I have
felt, for a number of years, that I was greatly overestimated, and it
has been a source of no little humiliation. I should have quit
editorial work several years ago, and lived in obscurity here at my
retired home, if I could have done so. I appreciate the good opinion of
my brethren, to the extent that I think it is merited; but to realize
that I am not what I am thought by some to be, is a great
mortification.

I am now at home enjoying the company of my family, the quiet of my
home, with every want anticipated and supplied by a devoted wife and
children, pleasantly, though in much feebleness, doing my work on the
_Guide_, and putting in my spare time in other writing. I find my
greatest pleasure in being about my Father's business. I must be
employed. I expect to thus work on till the Master says, "It is
enough."

MT. BYRD, Ky., June 13, 1885.

CHAPTER XIX.

Reflections on his Fiftieth Birthday. What a Wonderful Being is
Man! Governed, not by Instinct, but by Reason. Man Lives by Deeds, not
Years. How to Grow Old. Half of Life Spent in Satan's Service. Renewed
Consecration. Last Three Birthdays. His Trust in God.

The seventh day of March has come again. Fifty times has come this
anniversary of my natal day! Half a hundred years old to-day! What a
period through which to carry the burdens and responsibilities of life!
(What a time for which to give account to God for wasted moments and
opportunities lost!) What a period to be devoted to building a
character for the skies! What a period of time devoted to the issues of
eternity!

What a wonderful being is man! Time is but his cradle, from which he
walks forth into a world where life is parallel with the ages of God.
An intelligent, expansive being that will never cease to be--what a
thought! When the sun grows gray with age, his eye is dimmed, and
darkness reigns, man will still be drinking in the light of heaven from
the morning star of eternity. The century-living crow doubles this
period of man's probation, with life as it began. She builds her nest
the last year, as she did the first, with no improvement sought. She
rears her young the hundredth time as she did the first, by the long
experience none the wiser. This is her nature. God made her thus.
Instinct is wonderful, but it never improves. It grows not wiser with
age nor the ages. It nothing from experience learns. The sparrow builds
her nest, and the beaver his dam, just as they did in the years before
the flood. The little quails an hour from the shell, will hide at the
danger-signal of the mother bird, when they never saw a hawk, nor heard
of one's existence. How different this from man! More helpless than the
stupid beast, and more senseless than the creeping worm, he starts to
make the pilgrimage of life. But what a change does time produce! The
child more helpless than the humming insect of an hour, becomes the
monarch of the world. He bridles the lightning in its home above the
mountain peaks, and makes it do his bidding. The terror of the ages
past, becomes his willing servant. He harnesses the steam, that for
ages spent its power in the open air, and with it moves the world. He
sends his whisperings through old ocean's bed, where the great
leviathan sports, as if he talked to one across the room. He leaps
aloft as if on steady wing, till his look is downward where the
lightnings play and the thunderbolt leaps to its deadly mission.
Wonderful development! The heavens declare the glory of God, and the
earth proclaims the dominion of man. He was made a little lower than
the angels, and crowned with majesty. Age counts with man, and years
bring knowledge, but not unfailing wisdom. Did man grow wise with age,
as a sure result, age should be an unfailing blessing sought. But
imbecility it often brings and childish discontent. These are the
blighted sheaves of evil sowing in the spring and summer days of life.
With right ideas of life, men grow wiser and better, as they older grow
in the service of their God. Life is not measured simply by the flight
of time. Men live more now than they did before the flood. Intenser
now is _life_. Into a few decades, is now crowded the patriarch's
experience of nearly a thousand years. How to grow old, is a problem
not to be despised. It should not be left to solve itself. To grow old
gracefully, is to make a picture on which the world delights to look.
But, alas! how sadly blurred is the picture by many made! It is sad to
see one's religion sour with age. While young and strong the loved
disciple on the bosom of the Master leaned. Then when age had dimmed
his eagle eye, and time had stolen his elastic step, he had the same
love for his children in the faith. His was a sweet old age, the
outgrowth of a life of faith and love. He grew old gracefully. When
brought, as was his wont, and before his congregation set, his last
sermons were mainly the touching, tender words, "My little children,
love one another." O, that his mantle could on many of us fall! But
oft, alas! we see grow cross, self-willed and sour the shepherd of the
flock. This, too, when age should give his words both weight and
wisdom. Lord, give me poverty and affliction, if it be thy will, but
save me, I pray, from this sad end. Far better that one die young,
than grow old against the grain. "Is life worth living?" the sages ask.
That depends on how one lives it. Lived aright, it is worth living, and
many such worlds as this beside. Otherwise 'tis not. Of right living,
the more the better; of wrong, the less. The life lived faithfully to
God, can never be too long; its opposite, too short.

Of the half-century, this day gone, one claim I can safely make--it was
not spent in idleness. The years to Satan's service given, were well to
his account put in; and those devoted to a better cause, I have tried
to give as faithfully to Him to whom they all belonged. For the years
in Satan's service spent, like Saul of Tarsus, I conscientious
ignorance plead. O'er eyes unused to heaven's light, sectarianism's
vail was thick. But no sooner was known the way of life, than in its
path I tried to walk; and in it have I tried to keep, till this good
day. Thus equally divided has the time been spent. Except the years of
childish innocence, twenty-five were in the service spent of him who
for this life pays the soul in spurious coin, and leaves it bankrupt in
the life beyond; while an equal number, praise the Lord, have a better
Master claimed. For the rest of life, be it long or short, the long
side will the right side be, while hitherto it otherwise has been. The
periods of service have not before been equally divided, nor will they
be again. But the sides have changed proportions, praise the Lord!
Should not this turning-point in life an epoch make? A half century,
and a half divided life, in one! Surely I shall not look upon its like
again.

The past few birthdays I have noted as those of former years were noted
not, and for reasons I need hardly state. The first that deep
impression on the mind did make since apprehension was that each would
be the last, was three years ago, amid the orange groves of the sunny
South. The day was lovely as the Queen of May; and friends more lovely
than the day, made it a time not to be forgotten. The feasting of the
outer man was the lesser part of the day's enjoyment. "The feast of
reason and the flow of soul" was chief. Three of us were seeking health
in that sunny land. Two have found it, but not there. In a fairer land
by far than this world can boast, did they find the fountain of
perpetual health. Beneath the branches of the tree of life, have they
also sat and plucked its leaves for the healing of the nations given.
I, the feeblest of the three, and thought the nearest to the other side
to be, on the shores of time am struggling still. Thus it is with man's
poor guessing.

Two years ago the day was cold and bleak. It drizzled through the
dreary hours, freezing as it fell. But to many loving hearts, its sleet
and rain were not its gloom. On this day was laid to rest in Mother
Earth the loved remains of one numbered in the health-seeking trio of
the year before. What a contrast with that day one year before! The day
and its events, how sadly changed! But such is life. Well do I remember
on this asking, "Shall I another birthday live to see?" And well do I
remember, too, the thought expressed in grave response. While, in the
providence of God, it was possible, of course, the other way were all
the probabilities. But this so oft before the case had been, it left a
ray of hope. And that has now been more than realized. As said our
sweetest poet, how truly can we say:

    "God moves in a mysterious way
    His wonders to perform."

One year ago, in the balmy breezes of the "Lone Star" State, compelled
was I by feebleness of frame to miss the sumptuous feast by loving
hands so deftly spread. And sad, yet happy thought, those as ever ready
on the poor to wait, are now in those of the Master clasped. And still
I linger, and the years go by. Such is life. Deep and many are her
mysteries. God knows it all, but he keeps it to himself. But what are
now the prospects for the year to come? Better now, by far, than they
before have been in all these dreary years of pain. Would it not be
strange, if once again in providence divine I should mingle with my
fellow men, and tell them, as of yore, the story of the cross? Indeed,
it would; but stranger things have happened. Stranger things by
providence divine have come to pass without the aid of "Warner's Safe
Cure," or other disgusting humbuggery, with its offensive intrusion
into the reading of decent men. The providence of God is not dependent
on patent nostrums; nor is He limited in His healing power to calomel
or blue mass. Prayer is oft more potent than all the noxious drugs of
man's device. God has promised, when consistent with His holy will, the
prayers of His believing children to hear and bless. And in numbers
more by far than this poor life is worth, have these from earnest,
pleading souls gone up to God. Hence to-day we rest in the cheering
hope that these have not been in vain.

Should it please the Lord to give the health I need to fight again the
battles of Christian life, what responsibilities will it bring! That
strength must all be counted His who gave it. All those years must be
wholly His, His cause to serve. The interests of His kingdom to His
children left, must be strictly guarded. Conflicts with men, even those
we love, will come to him who strictly guards the faith, as Jude
directs. In all conflicts with fellow men, for two good graces I humbly
pray--the courage of Paul and the gentleness of John.

This holy Lord's-day morning, the sun rose bright and charming as on
the seventh day of March it did three years ago in the sunny land of
Florida. For the first time in many weary months did I a whiff of the
outside air inhale. Oh! how delicious! 'Twas like a prisoner's whiff of
the air of freedom. But this was not the best. To sit again with the
brethren around the table of the Lord and hear again the sweet old
story that is forever new, what a feast to the hungry soul! Then the
birthday feast is next to be enjoyed. Loved ones gathered at the dear
old "cottage home" to celebrate the marked event with music, song and
recitation.

The birthday cakes and other "dainty tricks" by loving hands prepared
and sent to grace the festive board, told tales of love. One thing
alone marred the pleasure of the day and checked the overflow of its
cup of bliss: Two loved and loving ones were far away and disappointed
in their hope of being here. These would have made the ring complete,
the family circle whole. But such, again, is life. Its disappointments
will forever come. We should expect them, therefore, and be content.

This is my fiftieth milestone along life's rugged road. At this
half-century mark I set up a pillar, as did Jacob of old.

    "Here I'll raise my Ebenezer,
      Hither by Thy help I've come,
    And I hope, by Thy good pleasure,
      Safely to arrive at home."

Thus far in life has a loving Father led me, and in his providential
care I trust for all the rest. I place my trusting hand in His, asking
to be led as He sees the way. "Guide me, O Thou great Jehovah," shall
be my constant prayer. And thus, dear Father, the rest of life I leave
with thee.

    Dear Lord, should birthdays more be mine
      To spend on earth to Thee,
    Thy cause shall claim them wholly Thine
      As earnest work can be.

    And should'st Thou will the next be one
      In Thy bright home above,
    I gladly say, "Thy will be done,"
      And join Thee in Thy love.

COTTAGE HOME, March 7, 1886.

CHAPTER XX.

Conclusion by the Editor. Tokens of Love from Many. Keeps Writing.
Controversy with the _Standard_. Last Meeting with His Mother. Visited
by Professors McGarvey and Graham. Commits His Writings to the Latter.
Visits Eminence and Lexington. Many Brethren Come to See Him. Meeting
at Mt. Byrd. Estimate of His Character. The Closing Scenes. Farewell to
His Family. Dies. Funeral Services.

The foregoing autobiography closes with June 13, 1885, while the life
of the author was prolonged till January 6, 1887, and it remains for
the editor to record a few of the incidents transpiring in the
interval; and to bring this remarkable recital to a close.

Midsummer found Bro. Allen in his "Cottage Home," at Mt. Byrd, growing
weaker in body day by day, but with no very acute suffering. Everything
that devoted love on the part of his family and church could suggest
for his comfort was done; and there were not wanting from abroad many
tokens of undying affection, as it became generally known that he was
gradually but surely passing away. Many of his friends, and especially
preachers, came to Mt. Byrd as to a Mecca, to find their pilgrimage
repaid in the fresh inspiration received by communing with this saintly
man. The company of his brethren did not weary him; on the contrary, it
seemed to have a favorable effect on both his body and mind; he greatly
desired the visits of his friends, and found comfort in them. Still
many were deterred from going to see him for fear it might disturb the
quiet which they hoped would contribute to lengthen out his days.
Meanwhile he kept writing with a diligence and persistence marvelous to
those who witnessed it, and incredible to others; so much so, that many
at a distance could not understand how one so near the grave could
continue to write so much and so well; hence the hope entertained that
he might survive for years to bless the church and the world. It must
be remembered that his disease never affected his mind, and that, like
most persons who die of consumption, he retained the full possession of
his mental faculties even unto the end. Besides, he was sustained by an
indomitable will that hesitated at nothing that stood in the way of
duty; added to which was an unfaltering trust in God and a joyous
resignation to His will, causing him to cease praying for longer life.
Propped up in an invalid chair with a convenience of his own invention,
he continued his weekly editorials to the _Guide_ as regularly as ever,
and developed abilities as an editor that none suspected he possessed
till the last years of his life.

It was at this time that the unfortunate controversy began between the
_Guide_ and the _Standard_ about our work in London, England, causing
so much regret on the part of many friends of both papers. It was
feared by some that this controversy would work irreparable injury to
our mission enterprises, not only in England, but in other lands, for
we all realized that Titans were engaged in the conflict; men, not like
those of old, giants in physical strength and daring, but of
intellectual power intensified by the love of God and his cause. Of
course the disputants viewed the matter from different angles, and
both, we must think, were equally sincere in their convictions. The
present writer was not of those who thought upon the whole harm would
come of this dispute, though he deeply regretted the asperity with
which it was conducted. In our present imperfect state we need, I doubt
not, these conflicts to remind us of our frailty, and if only we have
grace to profit by them, God will turn them to our good and to His own
glory. It is a source of devout thankfulness to those who knew Bro.
Allen's unselfish purpose, that many who censured his course united
with multitudes who approved it in paying honor to his memory, when the
messenger who ends all earthly strifes called him to his final account.

In July, 1885, his aged and revered mother made him a visit, and
remained some time; it was their last meeting; and now that her gifted
son has gone to his reward, she waits in joyous hope for the day that
shall reunite them forever.

A few weeks later it was the pleasure of the writer, in company with
Prof. McGarvey, to spend two days at Mt. Byrd, in delightful fellowship
with this grand man. He had been apprised of our coming, and was
prepared for it. Truly, to him and to us it was a foretaste of the joys
of the future world, and we left him the same resolute, confiding
servant of Christ he had ever been, wholly resigned to the will of God
and rejoicing in assured hope of eternal rest.

It pleased his Master to protract his life and usefulness a little
longer, and so 1885 closed, and we find him still with his family,
receiving many tokens of love from them and from brethren far away.
Spring comes, and birds and flowers; the bright sunshine beams into his
chamber, and now and then he is barely able to walk out to see and feel
his Father's goodness bathing all things in quiet beauty. He repines
not, knowing that "our light affliction, which is but for a moment,
worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory."

He continues to write, and with the rest the preceding chapter of
"Reflections on his Fiftieth Birthday." He commits it, his diary, and
other writings to me, with the request that I do with them as I think
best, for now he is sure that this unequal contest with mortality can
not last much longer.

Summer comes, and with it increasing weakness, but no diminution of his
trust in God. He wishes to visit Eminence once more, and to see his two
younger daughters graduate from the college that had helped himself in
former years. He attends, and then, unable to walk without help, he
comes on to Lexington, to spend commencement week among his friends and
brethren; this done, he returns to his beloved Mt. Byrd, to leave it no
more till he goes to stand with the redeemed on the Mount of God.

During the fall of this year hardly a week passed that several of his
relatives and Christian brethren were not found at his home; and did
not the limit of this chapter forbid, we would like to record their
names, for in love they came to testify their admiration for him and
their sympathy with his sorrowing family. For one and all he had a word
of cheer, and none came away without being deeply impressed with the
conviction that he had been with one of the purest and best of men--one
who lived in daily communion with his Maker. His one theme of
conversation was religion, and if we may judge from his increasing
delight in it, to no one was death a more gentle transition from faith
to sight. Narrow, indeed, to him was the bourn that divides the seen
from the unseen, the temporal from the eternal, and the labors of earth
from the felicities of heaven. He daily lived upon the boundary of two
worlds.

In October, Bro. J. K. P. South held a meeting with the Mt. Byrd
church, and, though feeble beyond measure, Bro. Allen made out to
attend a few times, and even to take part in prayer and exhortation,
sitting in his chair. Only twice after this was he able to be carried
to the Lord's house, but on neither occasion could he take an active
part in the worship.

In all the relations of life Bro. Allen was a model of all that is
lovable in human character--kind, gentle, considerate of the feelings
of others, even the least, and always cheerful. A refined and delicate
humor pervaded his conversation, which was always chaste and
instructive. There was in him a moderation that always attends reserved
power, and a candor that was transparent; these qualities, united with
an equipoise of intellectual and moral strength, harmony of emotions,
and hatred of everything mean or unfair, made him revered by his
friends, and an idol in his household. Wife, children, servants, all
who came into that charmed circle, were attached to him in a love that
bordered on idolatry. To draw a portraiture of this remarkable man
would indeed be a pleasing task did space allow--his logical
penetration, depth of feeling, strength of will, energy, industry,
unwavering faith in God and goodness, and, crowning all, his fidelity
to the gospel of Christ--but it is unnecessary. To us who knew him
these virtues were conspicuous; by others, they may be gathered from
the unvarnished story of his life as it is told in the foregoing pages.
We must hasten to the closing scene.

On New Year's day, 1887, he laid down his pen to resume it again no
more. He was forced to this by sheer exhaustion; his body was wasted to
a skeleton, and it was clear to all that the end was near. Having
suffered much for several days, but without a murmur, on the evening of
Jan. 5 he requested all his family to come to his bedside, and while
their hearts were breaking for grief and all eyes were blinded with
tears, he spoke to them for the last time.

"My dear children," said he, "I want to say a few things to you while I
can. I may not be able to do it if I put it off longer. I will soon
leave you, and I know you will miss me. It is hard for you to give me
up, but it is the will of God, and you must bear up as best you can. I
am sure I have always had your love, and you have always obeyed me; and
now I want you to always love and obey your mother. Remember, wherever
you may be, that you are all of one household. Live in peace, and let
no strife or discord spring up among you." Taking the hand of each of
his daughters, he asked them to meet him in heaven, and then kissed
them good-bye.

Laying his hand upon Frank's head, he said, "My dear son, papa has to
leave you." "O papa," said the lad, "pray not to die." "We have prayed,
my dear boy, but it is God's will to take me home, and He knows best.
You must love your mamma and obey her; be good to your sisters. I want
you to grow up and become a minister of the gospel. Try to make a
better preacher than your papa has been. Be studious and industrious,
and live so that you may at last meet me in heaven. May God bless you,
my son, and keep you in His care. Kiss me good-bye."

Throwing one arm around his wife, he said, "My dear, my affliction has
been a blessing to me in having you near me all the time. You have been
everything on earth that a good wife could be. I have loved you even
more in my affliction than I ever did before. I want to thank you for
all your kindness to me and loving care of me. If I have ever done or
said anything I should not, I want you to forgive me now. I can say on
my dying bed that I have always been a true husband to you. I have made
the best provision I could for you and the children, and if there
should appear any mistakes they have not been of my heart." He then
bade her a long and last farewell.

He then blessed his three little grandchildren and kissed them;
expressed a desire to see his "dear old mother," brother and sisters
once more, and spoke of some business matters a moment, then said,
"This is too sacred for that."

For two or three days before this he had been able to speak only a few
words at a time; but throughout this interview with his family, his
voice was as strong and clear as it had ever been. After this his
breathing became difficult, and he could gasp only a single word now
and then. He seemed to have no wish to be occupied with this world. The
weary traveler had at last reached the goal; and about nine o'clock
Thursday night, January 6, 1887, his pure spirit left its frail
tenement to suffer no more.

The following account of his funeral, written by his devoted friend and
Christian brother, W. K. Azbill, may well close the biography of Frank
Gibbs Allen:

    "IT IS FINISHED."

    It is finished. The struggle with his fatal malady is over at last,
    and F. G. Allen is at rest. He sank into a quiet sleep last
    Thursday night, Jan. 6, 1887.

    A few friends were notified of the end by telegrams, and that the
    burial would take place from Mt. Byrd Church on Sunday, but the
    condition of the Ohio River rendered it extremely difficult to
    reach "Cottage Home." However, in spite of the difficulties and
    dangers in crossing the river, and the extreme cold weather, there
    were seven ministers and a very large audience present at the
    burial. The people came over the snow and through the snow, in
    sleighs and sleds and buggies, afoot and on horseback, till the
    large country audience-room was well filled. The presence of such
    an assembly on such a day evinced the truth of what is now widely
    known, that Frank Allen was loved best where he has lived and
    labored for the past sixteen years.

    The services were begun by Bro. A. W. Kokendoffer, who lead in an
    invocation of divine blessing and strength and guidance. The
    congregation then sang "Nearer, My God, to Thee." The writer read
    the following Scriptures; John xiv. 1-4, 27, 28; I. Cor. xv. 51-58;
    I. Thess. iv. 13-18; II. Sam, iii. 31-39, repeating 38.

    He felt that he should not, because he could not speak on the
    occasion. He had followed the inclinations of his own grief, and
    had come as a mourner and not as a comforter. We had not met to
    tell how much we esteemed our departed brother, or how much we
    loved him, or how much we should miss him, now that he has gone.
    The gap is a wide one he has left in the family, in the
    congregation of his love, and in the larger church; and it will
    seem wider and wider as the days go by. We had come as his brothers
    and sisters--as those who loved him--to lay him away in the grave,
    and to ask God's help and blessing in this time of loss and sorrow.
    He then led in worship, thanking God for His gift to the church of
    the precious life that had just been surrendered at His call;
    praising God for His love of brave and true men like him;
    expressing the loving confidence of all that the heavenly Father
    would deal tenderly with our widowed sister and her children;
    asking especially that the little boy might live to honor the name
    of his beloved father, and praying that the dear church, that has
    borne him on their hearts through all this anxious time of weakness
    and suffering, might forever be blessed by the memory of his godly
    life in it.

    The song, "Asleep in Jesus," was then sung, after which President
    R. Graham, of the College of the Bible, addressed the audience on
    the life and character of the deceased.

    He had thought of how truly it might be said of him, that "There is
    a prince and a great man fallen this day in Israel." He had felt
    inclined to derive comfort for the church, and to those to whom he
    was doubly dear, from the passage in the Apocalypse, "I heard a
    voice from heaven saying unto me, Write, Blessed are the dead which
    die in the Lord from henceforth; yea, saith the Spirit, that they
    may rest from their labors: and their works do follow them." He did
    not know whether others would be present to take part in the
    services. But Bro. Kurfees was here from the churches in
    Louisville, and, as a representative of the _Guide_, Bro.
    McDiarmid, from Cincinnati, to represent his associates in our
    other publishing interests, and Bro. Azbill, from Indianapolis,
    connected with our missionary interests, while he himself brought
    the sympathies of those in the College of the Bible. He felt there
    was a suitableness in all this, for all these things were dear to
    the heart of our brother.

    He then proceeded to give a sketch of his life and career. There
    were several distinct periods in his history. The first was from
    his birth, March 7, 1836, to his marriage in 1856, a period of
    about twenty years. Here he spoke of his early struggles for an
    education, and of the signs of a useful life manifested even then.
    The second, from the time of his marriage till his entry upon
    general evangelistic work, about 1866. During this decade he became
    a Christian, resolved to preach the gospel, and entered and passed
    through a course of collegiate studies in Eminence College. The
    third period began with his evangelistic labors. During this time
    he became a pastor of the Mt. Byrd church. During this period most
    of his public discussions were held. It was through these labors
    that he was revealed to his brethren as a man who was greater than
    we knew.

    The last period began with his editorial career, and closed with
    his death. He became first a contributing editor of _The Apostolic
    Times_, and afterwards co-editor. Then he became the proprietor and
    editor of _The Old-Path Guide_, which, in the course of events, was
    consolidated with the _Times_, and became _The Apostolic Guide_.

    President Graham then spoke of his character and his characteristic
    abilities. He was a sincere man, he was a conscientious man, he was
    a brave, true man; he was a pure-minded man, he was a godly man.

    His ability was not that of the great scholar, but of the logician
    of keen, accurate perceptions. He was not an encyclopedia, but a
    compact volume of naked logic. He was capable of the very nicest
    discriminations; and he had the faculty of pointing out a fallacy
    with marvelous clearness, and of turning an objection to his
    position into an argument in its favor.

    He was sometimes misunderstood; but he was always true to his
    convictions, and there was no honorable thing he would not do for
    the truth's sake. He believed in the gospel as the power of God
    unto salvation; and he made no compromises with doctrines in
    conflict with his conviction that the gospel must be believed and
    obeyed by those who would be saved.

    The speaker said many tender and fatherly things to the bereaved
    family and to the church, one of which was that we who knew of our
    brother's sufferings, could have had but the one motive of
    selfishness for detaining him an hour longer than he lingered with
    us.

    Bro. M. C. Kurfees followed the remarks of President Graham with
    some comforting reflections on Bro. Allen's views of death and of
    the future life. He spoke of his willingness "to depart and to be
    with Christ, which is far better." Heaven is not a far off place,
    but an actual spiritual presence with God. He spoke of the
    blessedness of being always ready for this change from our life in
    the body to our life with God in the invisible world.

    Bro. McDiarmid closed the services with suitable remarks and an
    earnest prayer. After the singing of the song, "Jesus, Lover of my
    Soul," came the final leave-taking, and the departure from the
    church to the grave. Not the least touching of these scenes was the
    breaking down in grief of the sturdy yeomen of the congregation as
    they stood around the bier of their dear brother and former pastor,
    and looked on that manly face and form for the last time.

    Finally we laid him to rest in the burying-place near by. At the
    grave the closing prayer was offered by Bro. Wm. Buchanan, who
    referred tenderly to his aged mother and absent relatives. And thus
    the final scenes closed.

    His resting-place is a lovely spot, overlooking the city of
    Madison, commanding an extended view of the river valley, and in
    sight of the stream and of all the vessels that go by. It is near
    to his "Cottage Home" and to the church he so much loved; and the
    spot will be all the dearer now that he sleeps in it.

    Only four days ago the writer said in a letter to the family: "I
    linger on the eve of taking a long voyage, and he may soon go on a
    very short one; but which of these shall be made the occasion of
    saying 'good-bye,' I hardly know." Even then the solitary voyager
    was on his way. The breakers dashed about him as he launched; the
    great billows roared beneath and around him as he went out; the
    waves broke over each other in ripples as he passed on; and the
    ripples hushed into whispers as he neared the other shore. At last
    he took the adorable divine Guide by the hand, and passed beyond
    our view.

PART II.--ADDRESSES.

I.--CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY: THEIR RELATION AND NECESSITY.

[An Address Delivered Before Eminence College, June 8, 1877.]

There are periods in our history which form the oases in the desert of
life. In one of these our spirits are to-day refreshed. Its dark shade
and cooling fountain strengthen us for the onward pilgrimage. From its
green sward we pluck bright flowers, whose fragrance will linger with
us till the end of life's journey. From these let us to-day weave fresh
garlands, which shall ever exhale the sweetness of these associations.

This is ever a proud day for Eminence College. Annually on these
festive occasions do the hearts of the many thousands who have gone out
from these classic halls turn to them again with longing. Memory,
unfettered by space, walks again amid these lovely bowers and responds
unconsciously to the greetings of other days. Though separated far, and
mingling in the busy scenes of life, how their souls revel in these
delights! These college associations are the golden links which bind
many hearts in an unbroken chain. The chords so exquisitely touched in
our hearts to-day will vibrate for an age. Ere these sweet strains die
away on the distant air they will be caught up by responsive hearts and
reëchoed round the earth. These are times in our college life that must
ever be linked with the future. Memory will ever delight to lift the
heavy curtain of material life, and behold again these visions of
beauty, and paint in fancy these rose tints of youth. Then let this day
be one whose brightness shall shed a ray of celestial light along the
path of life. Let our spirits bathe in the fountain of living waters,
while the chords of our hearts are swept with entrancing melodies.

    "Then th' inexpressive strain
    Diffuses its enchantment. Fancy dreams
    Of sacred fountains and Elysian groves,
    And vales of bliss; the intellectual power
    Bends from his awful throne a wandering ear,
    And smiles."

As a theme worthy of your consideration to-day, I have selected

    "_Culture and Christianity: Their Relation and Necessity_."

The Greek word for man, [Greek: anthropos], signifies etymologically to
_look upward_. Man is the only terrestrial being capable of looking
inward and upward. In this there lies between him and the animal
creation an impassable gulf. Man alone can look into his inner nature,
and thereby make his very failures the stepping-stones to a higher
life. God designed that man's progress should be upward; hence his high
destiny is attained, not by creation, but by development. The ladder at
whose foot he begins his immortal career rests upon the eternal throne.
This is not a development _into_ man, but a development _of_ man. The
theory of development into man is of the flesh; but the development of
man is of the spirit. Since man is destined for eternity, it is not
befitting that he should attain perfection in time. Hence he does not
develop as the beast of the field, or the fowl of the air. They soon
learn all that they ever know. They soon enjoy all they are capable of
enjoying. They soon attain to the perfection of their being, and
fulfill the end of their creation. The swallow builds her nest and the
beaver his dam precisely as they did in the days before the flood. Nor
can it ever be otherwise. But it is not so with man. This life is too
short and this world too small for his development. He but begins to
live in this world. This life is simply a state of probation. Our
faculties but begin to unfold on the things of time when we are called
hence. This unfolding of our faculties, this development of our inner
self, is the result of culture--a culture not of the flesh, but of the
spirit; not of the outer, but of the inner man.

Culture and Christianity, properly considered, are inseparable. He who
relies on culture apart from Christianity misconceives the end of his
being. He appreciates not his high destiny. Animals have minds
susceptible of a high degree of cultivation, but not of a culture which
reaches beyond time. Their culture is wholly a thing of this life; but
not more so than is the culture of men unsanctified by the religion of
Christ. A culture that terminates with death is in harmony with the
nature of a horse, but contrary to the nature of a man. What is
culture? This is a question on whose solution man's eternal destiny is
largely suspended. Our age prides itself on being an age of culture;
but do we know in what true culture really consists? As a whole, I
think not. A smattering of sentimental literature, a superficial
refinement of manners, a few borrowed phrases and appropriated customs
of "society," the rendering of a few pieces by rote, and fashionable
dress, constitute with, alas! too many the standard of culture. How
unworthy of their race are those who entertain the thought! All this
may be but the gilding of barbarism; beneath this external glitter
there may be a heart and character steeped in moral rudeness and
degradation.

True culture consists not in the cultivation of outward accomplishments.
It consists not in intellectual acquirements. It consists in the
development of the triune man--body, soul and spirit--in their divine
harmony. Without a cultivation of the spirit in harmony with its
immortal destiny, all that this world calls culture is but the gilded
tinsel that bedecks the putrefaction of death. The truly cultured man
is developed in harmony with the laws of his being. This being is
compound, having a fleshly and a spiritual side. Hence, to cultivate
one to the neglect of the other is to disproportion him whom God
created in His own image. As we exist first in time and next in
eternity, that culture which loses sight of either state misconceives
the full mission of man. Man's conception of his present mission and
ultimate destiny determines his standard of culture. He must have an
ideal, and if that ideal be low, his life will be correspondingly low.
Nothing but Christianity can furnish man an ideal worthy of himself;
and nothing but Christian culture can develop him in the direction of
that ideal.

Classical antiquity never conceived a destiny worthy of man. It never
contemplated him in that relation of Christ-likeness to his God, which
the Bible reveals. Even Aristotle, the most cultivated of all heathen
philosophers, thought that only a part of mankind possessed a rational
soul. With such a conception man is incapable of the highest culture.
It is degrading to his dignity. All culture based on such a hypothesis
must be a culture of the flesh, and not of the spirit. It is the
culture of materialism, not of Christianity. Between modern materialism
and the cultivated heathenism of the ancient Greeks the difference is
not worth the naming. "To assume the existence of a soul," says Vogt,
"which uses the brain as an instrument with which to work as it
pleases, is utter nonsense. Physiology distinctly and categorically
pronounces against any individual immortality, and against all ideas
which are connected with a figment of a separate existence of the
soul." "Man," says Moleschott, "is produced from wind and ashes. The
action of vegetable life called him into existence.... Thought consists
in the motion of matter, it is a translocation of the cerebral
substance; without phosphorus there can be no thought; and consciousness
itself is nothing but an attribute of matter." This deification of the
flesh, this "gospel of dirt," makes man consist simply of what he eats.
The missionaries of this heathen gospel have no need to address the
reason of men; only feed them on the right kind of food and their
regeneration is accomplished! Materialism is a religion of the flesh, a
deification of matter; its laver of regeneration is the chemist's
retort; its new birth, phosphorus! Give the brain plenty of phosphorus
by high living, and you develop the _soul_ of materialism! Yet the
heralds of this soulless gospel talk flippantly about culture!

Man's fall was due to an attempt to acquire knowledge at the expense of
heart culture. Here, amid the bowers of "paradise lost" is found the
root of all false culture, and from that root the world has ever been
filled with a noxious growth. True culture consists in a correction of
the process which

    "Brought death into the world,
    And all our woe."

Man in his spiritual nature must be educated back to the divine image
from which he fell. No culture comprehending less than this has ever
proved a permanent blessing to the race. The highest culture hitherto
attained apart from Christianity was incapable of saving its devotees
from ruin. Greece and Rome were never more cultured, in a popular
sense, than when they began to go down in death. Materialistic culture
was their winding-sheet, and "A Religion of the Flesh" should be their
epitaph. As Christlieb has truly said: "Wherever civilization is not
made to rest on the basis of moral and religious truth it can not
attain to any permanent existence, and is incapable of preserving the
nations possessed of it from spiritual starvation, to say nothing of
political death."

It is idle to boast of Liberty when the foundations of her temples are
not laid in divine truth. Of this, Greece and Rome have furnished the
world examples. In Greece freedom had a field peculiarly her own; she
breathed her inspiration into the people, and her spirit into their
literature; she lived in the deeds of their youth, and was sung by the
muse of their bards. This spirit was diffused in Rome. Plato, Aristotle
and Homer were transplanted to the Rhine, the Seine, and the Thames.
Their land was full of liberty and culture, but not the liberty nor the
culture of the soul. When we learn from Tacitus that "in the first
century, in a time of famine, all the teachers of youth were banished
from the city, and six thousand dancers were retained," we have an
example of that culture which made Rome a sink of iniquity. It is not
impossible that the fatal mistake of Greece and Rome should be repeated
in our own country. We are venturing to some extent on the slippery
places from which they fell. The evil star of their national ruin is
that on which the eyes of many of our political leaders are fixed. The
godless spirit that animated the Roman senate is being nursed into new
life in American politics, and this nursing is not simply in the halls
of legislation, but in the homes of the people. Here lies the trouble.
If the American republic ever goes down in ruin, the power that hurls
it from its high position will be enthroned in the family circle.

We complain that those in authority have not the fear of God before
their eyes. We lift our hands in holy horror at the public corruption
which brings our nation into dishonor before the world. But who is to
blame? One political party is ever ready to ascribe all the corruption
of the country to its political rival. But this godless disregard of
national honor and national interest is confined to no party. Neither
is it confined to party leaders; but it controls the people on whom the
leaders rely for support. Here is the seat of the disease which is
gnawing at the vitals of the republic. The man who now refuses to cater
to the depraved tastes of the masses, can not, as a rule, be promoted
to office. How many men can sit in the halls of legislation, or even on
our benches of justice, who persistently refuse to influence men's
votes by money, or inflame their passions and sway their judgment with
strong drink? When a man of a high sense of moral honor seeks promotion
by the suffrage of his fellow-citizens, he soon learns that he must
come down from his "stilted dignity" or be defeated. In the excitement
of the canvass he yields to base motives to prevent defeat. He
compromises his high sense of honor, deadens his conscience, and sells
out his manhood to secure an honorable (?) position. We should not
expect men to manifest a high sense of honor in public places as long
as we require them to compromise their honor in order to secure such
places. The thing is both unreasonable and unjust. As well expect sweet
water to flow from a fountain which we have made bitter!

Party spirit is hostile to moral purity. As one becomes filled with the
spirit of party, to that extent does he surrender the freedom of a man.
He can neither think nor speak impartially. He stifles the convictions
of conscience and shouts the shibboleth of party. With him the triumph
of party is infinitely dearer than the maintenance of principle. Hence
the conflict becomes a struggle, not for principle, but for victory.
The people are distracted and the nation brought to the verge of ruin
over the most trivial matters. The Eastern empire was once shaken to
its foundation by parties which differed only about the merits of
charioteers at the amphitheater.

This ruinous party spirit is fostered by ignorance. The masses who are
controlled at the ballot-box by the basest influences, because they
will not be controlled by any other; and who in turn control the
ballots of our country, are, as a rule, the uncultured part of society.
The better class of citizens are not approached with the influences
which control the ignorant. Therefore, the remedy is in the _correct_
education of the masses. The emphasis is correctly made; for any kind
of education will not accomplish this end. Only as people are _truly_
cultured do they cease to be tools of politicians. Then their
intelligence, not their passions, must be addressed. When the masses
are thus cultured they will refine instead of demoralize our public
men.

As a remedy, then, for the demoralization of all classes we need a
better system of education. We must have a free education if we would
have a free people. Our children must be educated in just principles,
if we would perpetuate a just government. To make this remedy
effectual, when the means of education are provided for the ignorant,
they should be required to appropriate them, or forfeit their right of
suffrage. No man should have a voice in determining the destiny of our
nation, who rejects the means of that culture which alone can qualify
him to act intelligently. A man who has not spirit enough to avail
himself of the benefits of an elementary education, when placed within
his reach, is not worthy of being a citizen of a free government.

Not only must the ballot-box be elevated by culture, if this government
would number its centennials, but it must be purified by Christianity.
We need to erect a high standard of moral qualification for positions
of trust and honor. Those in authority will ever be about what the
people require of them. When ungodliness and moral corruption are at a
discount among the people, and party spirit can not atone for the
darkest crimes, then may we expect more purity in high places; not
before. This standard must be erected at the ballot-box or our
liberties will find an untimely grave.

This government was established on a false idea--the idea that man is
capable of self-government. God never intended that man should govern
himself. Consequently, in the strictest sense of the word, he is
incapable, both individually and collectively, of self-government.
Since, by his own wisdom, man is incapable of governing himself he is
likewise incapable of governing others. The men and the nations, in the
ages of the past, that attempted this, failed of the high destiny for
which God gave them being. The ultimate prosperity of men and nations
depends on the government of God. Only He who created man fully
understands his ultimate destiny and the laws of his being to attain to
that end. Therefore, only when man is thus governed is his life a
success. All sacred history shows that God rules in the governments of
men; and only when this fact is practically acknowledged may nations
expect permanent prosperity. That nation whose laws are framed and
executed regardless of the law of God will eventually fall under the
divine chastisement. No more can the statesmanship of this world,
unsanctified by divine wisdom, save a nation from the wrath of God,
than the wisdom of man can save a soul from eternal death, regardless
of Him, "who of God is made unto us wisdom, and righteousness, and
sanctification, and redemption." For the disregard of God's will,
nations are punished here, because as nations they do not exist
hereafter. On this the Lord has clearly spoken: "At what instant I
shall speak concerning a nation, and concerning a kingdom, to pluck up,
and to pull down, and to destroy it: If that nation against whom I have
pronounced, turn from their evil, I will repent of the evil that I
thought to do unto them. And at what instant I shall speak concerning a
nation, and concerning a kingdom, to build and to plant it: If it do
evil in my sight, that it obey not my voice, then I will repent of the
good, wherewith I said I would benefit them." Thus it is that nations
are in the hands of God as clay in the hands of the potter. Only,
therefore, when they purge themselves from ungodly legislation, will
they become "vessels unto honor, sanctified and meet for the Master's
use."

The voice of God, then, must be heard and heeded in our nation, and if
the people rule, and the nation prosper, the voice of God must become
the voice of the people. _In this sense, and this only, are any people
capable of self-government._ To this end we need more extended culture,
and that of a higher order. Our politics must be purified by our
religion, and our religion must be a religion of the spirit, not of the
flesh. We need more religion in our politics, and less politics in our
religion. The history of other nations fully confirms the language of
Goethe: "All epochs," says he, "in which faith prevailed have been the
most heart-stirring and fruitful, both as regards contemporaries and
posterity; whereas, on the other hand, all epochs in which unbelief
obtains its miserable triumphs, even when they boast of some apparent
brilliancy, are not less surely doomed to speedy oblivion." Liberty is
the twin sister of Faith. In the language of Seneca: "To obey God is
freedom. A nation that desires to be free must believe, and a nation
that will not believe must be in servitude; only despotism can dispense
with faith, but not liberty."

History clearly proves that national prosperity depends on an
appreciation of the intimate relation existing between culture and
Christianity. Of this relation Christlieb truly speaks: "No one,
indeed," says he, "will wish to deny that in our modern culture there
is much that is false, egotistic, and selfish; much that is misleading
and exaggerated, and consequently opposed to true culture. Against
these untrue elements of culture, Christianity will and must always
take the field; it must not oppose progress, although it is at all
times bound to show itself hostile to the _sins_ of progress, just as
from its very commencement it has always testified and striven against
such sins. Between Christless culture and Christianity a bridge of
accommodation can no more be built than between light and darkness, and
woe to him who undertakes this! But whatever in our modern culture is
thoroughly _Christless_, and therefore Godless, is unworthy of the
name and can, therefore, claim from us no further consideration; it is
mere naked rudeness and selfishness, ill-disguised by the gaudy rays of
outward decency; a mere cherishing of the sensual nature which, left to
itself, would soon degenerate into monstrous barbarism, of which we
already see many indications."

Intellectual, at the expense of moral, culture is one of the curses of
this age. By such culture man acquires power without the principles
which alone can make that power a blessing. Intellect is deified; but
intellect unsubdued by Christianity is a remorseless god. True culture
would lift man above this low conception of his own nature. It would
give him a more comprehensive view of himself; of the infinite
development of which he is susceptible; of the rulings of an all-wise
Providence, whose loving care

    "From seeming evil still educing good,
    And better thence again, and better still,
    In infinite progression."

True culture consists not in an accumulation of facts or ideas, but in
developing a force of thought that is ever a ready and willing servant.
To educate is to lead out and develop the faculties, not to break them
down with the endless rubbish of other minds. The collection of facts
amounts to but little unless with those facts we build towers from
which to take higher and wider views of truth. Thus it is that culture
demands them as a means, not as an end. To build up the mental and
moral faculties, so as to comprehend and appreciate the great
principles which control the life that now is, and that which is to
come, is the highest culture in our probationary state. This can be
accomplished only by an education in which the Bible and the _authority
of Christ_ are made paramount. On this, as we have seen, our free
institutions and the perpetuity of religious liberty depend. This is
the secret of Roman Catholic opposition to the Bible in our public
schools. And it is not simply the Bible in the public schools that Rome
opposes; she is opposed to the existence of the schools themselves; to
the system of free education. No people understand better than the
Catholics the power of religious teaching in connection with education.
Hence they are the foe to all religion in connection with education
that is not Catholic. Rome is the friend of education and religion when
that education is priestly and that religion Romish; otherwise she is
the enemy of both. Hence those who support Catholic schools foster the
deadliest foe of our religious liberties. There will ever be,
therefore, an irrepressible conflict between Roman Catholicism and
Christian culture. Let him who doubts this study impartially the
history of Catholic countries. We ask no more.

The idea is fast passing away, and it can not pass too rapidly, that
the mass of the people need no other culture than that which fits them
for their various vocations. The world is beginning to learn that
culture is due to our _nature_, not to our _calling_. It is not the
calling nor the place of residence that makes the man. It is what a man
_is_, not what he does, that makes him great. True greatness is in the
man, not in circumstances. True greatness and worldly fame are two
widely different things. The greatest men of earth may be but little
known. As force of thought measures intellectual, so force of principle
measures moral, greatness. There is more true greatness in the huts of
poverty than in the palaces of kings, only it is undeveloped. Here,
therefore, is where we need true Christian culture. I can not better
express my appreciation of obscure greatness, which culture should
develop, than by repeating the words of Dr. Channing: "The greatest
man," says he, "is he who chooses the right with invincible resolution,
who resists the sorest temptation from within and without, who bears
the heaviest burdens cheerfully, who is calmest in storms and most
fearless under menace and frowns, whose reliance on truth, on virtue,
on God, is most unfaltering; and is this a greatness which is apt to
make a show, or which is most likely to abound in conspicuous stations?
The solemn conflicts of reason with passion; the victories of moral and
religious principles over urgent and almost irresistible solicitations
to self-indulgence; the hardest sacrifices of duty, those of
deep-seated affection and of the heart's fondest hopes; the
consolations, hopes, joys, and peace, of disappointed, persecuted,
scorned, deserted virtue; these are of course unseen, so that the true
greatness of human life is almost wholly out of sight. Perhaps in our
presence the most heroic deed on earth is done in some silent spirit,
the loftiest purpose cherished, the most generous sacrifices made, and
we do not suspect it. I believe this greatness to be most common among
the multitude, whose names are never heard." Most beautifully has the
poet expressed the same fine thought:

    "Full many a gem of purest ray serene,
      The dark, unfathomed caves of ocean bear;
    Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
      And waste its sweetness on the desert air."

These pure gems need to be discovered and polished, and these sweet
flowers cultivated and utilized by Christian culture. It is idle to
talk of developing these hidden resources of intellectual and moral
wealth but by true culture, and this can never exist apart from
Christianity. Christianity is the spiritual power that vitalizes the
culture of our age. So evident is this that even a Fichte was compelled
to confess that, "We and our whole age are rooted in the soil of
Christianity, and have sprung from it; it has exercised its influence
in the most manifold ways on the whole of our culture, and we should be
absolutely nothing of all that we are, if this mighty principle had not
preceded us." Culture and Christianity can not now be divorced. Those
who would array culture against Christianity are themselves under the
influence of that which they oppose. The very imagined imperfections of
Christianity must be discovered by the light of Christianity, "just as
he who seeks to discover spots in the sun, must for this purpose borrow
the light of the sun itself." Culture and Christianity are so
interwoven that we may never expect either, separate from the other, as
a blessing to the world. The very fact that the Protestant nations of
the earth, where God is honored by a free Bible, are the chief
exponents of true culture, attests this connection. So vital is this
relation that, "United they stand; divided they fall."

Another important end to be attained in the culture of the masses is
independence of thought. We need to cast off the yoke of human opinion
and cultivate the individual judgment. We are too much the slaves of
fashion. We are disposed to dress our minds as well as our bodies,
after the fashion of the times. This destroys originality and
independence of thought, and renders our lives tame and insipid. We
need connection with other minds to excite our own, not to enslave
them. We want the thoughts of others that we may think; and without
correct modes of thinking, all efforts at education and culture are
failures.

But it may be argued, the masses are denied the privilege of
association with the cultivated. This is not true. They may deprive
themselves, but they are not denied. This is peculiarly an age of
printing. The best of literature may now find its way into the most
humble homes. There is not a roof in the land under which the prophets
and apostles of God will not enter with the glad message containing the
promise of the life that is and that which is to come; not one under
which the poets will not come to sing to us of that far-off land; not
one too holy for the habitation of the great minds of earth which
inspire us

    "With thoughts that breathe,
    And words that burn."

With these for our companions, we may have the best society that this
world affords, and, by such association, fit ourselves for the
companionship of the cultivated.

Is it argued that the poor have not time for self-culture? This is one
of the greatest mistakes of life. It is not _time_ that we want; it is
_inclination_. Generally, those who have most time profit by it least.
An earnest purpose will either find time or make time. Nor is it
necessary that much time should be taken. The spare moments, the mere
fragments of time, often worse than wasted, will, if carefully
improved, make both mind and heart a store-house of the most precious
treasure. It is said that Spurgeon read the whole of Macaulay's History
of England between the courses at dinner. I would not advise that these
golden opportunities for social culture be devoted to reading; but the
circumstance shows how much may be accomplished by gathering up the
crumbs which fall from the table of time. When Martin Luther was asked
how, amid all his other labors, he found time to translate the Holy
Scriptures, he replied, "One verse a day." A small amount of daily
reading, of the right kind, will furnish food for thought; and it is
thought, after all, that enriches the soul.

A proper improvement of the most slender opportunities for self-culture
creates new capacities for enjoyment, and saves the leisure moments
from being dull and wearisome. More than this; it saves them from being
devoted to ruinous indulgence. The soul-culture for which these
fragments of time provide, lifts humanity above mere brutal enjoyments,
and implants pleasures worthy of their race. Christian culture is
essential to the subduing of sensuality, and the subduing of sensuality
is essential to the permanent prosperity of both individuals and
nations.

But, it may be said, any considerable degree of culture will lift the
masses above their vocations, and cause them to become dissatisfied
with their lot; that the cultured mind despises drudgery. The very
reverse of this is true. Culture dignifies labor and destroys drudgery.
The man determines the dignity of the calling; not the calling the
dignity of the man. Let men of culture carry their culture into their
vocations, and their vocations will become honorable. Let cultured men
plow and reap, and plowing and reaping will become as dignified as the
"learned professions." Because a man can not wear as fine a garb at the
forge as he can at the desk, it does not follow that his thoughts may
not be as fine. A man may wear a polished intellect and a cultivated
soul under a coarse garb as well as under a fine one; and he should be
respected the more, if circumstances have compelled him to develop his
intellectual and moral forces; if at all, under a rough exterior.

While in these thoughts I have spoken of men, I have used the term
generically. The principles apply with equal force to the women of this
country. One of the great evils of our land is, that among the ladies,
domestic labor is not sufficiently dignified. The number of mothers in
the ordinary walks of life, silly enough to think that ignorance of
domestic duties is an accomplishment for their daughters, is by no
means small. This results from a want of true culture and common sense.
There is no just reason why a young lady should not knead her dough and
conjugate a Greek verb at the same time with equal skill. True culture
will dignify domestic labor among women of all classes, and this will
result in more domestic prosperity, and more domestic happiness. The
rich and the poor will be brought into closer sympathy, unnecessary
distinctions will be broken down, and the people will become one in the
essential elements of good government and pure religion.

Young ladies, you above all others should appreciate the blending of
culture and Christianity. One glance at the history of the world must
convince you that the highest culture, unsanctified by Christianity,
has never elevated your sex above disgraceful servitude. Certainly you
can not entertain the thought, that the culture which does not elevate
woman can ever bless the world. Only Christianity has exalted the
gentler sex to that position in the esteem and affections of men that
God designed she should occupy. Hence, of all the friends of ancient
Christianity, woman should be the truest and most lasting; and of all
the enemies of modern Rationalism, she should be the most bitter and
unrelenting.

In conclusion, allow me to repeat the thought of the beginning, that it
is the nature of man to _look upward_, and he who does not look upward
is untrue to his nature. But in the flesh, we can only begin to ascend
the heights of God. Here we are weighed down with infirmity, with our
frail, decaying bodies; but our souls long for the power of incessant,
never-wearying, glorious activity, awaiting us in the upper world. One
of my highest conceptions of Heaven; one that thrills me to
contemplate, is a life of no more prostration from labor; no more
weariness of over-wrought brain; no aching head nor pain-racked body;
but incessant labor, unincumbered by frail mortality; growth,
development, expanding visions of God, among pure intelligences, and
amid the celestial splendor of eternal worlds. But in the flesh, I can
not bathe in those fountains of celestial light. Then let me leave this
frail tenement of clay, as one steps out of the vehicle that can take
him no farther, and leaving it behind, ascends the lofty mountain to
gaze upon the unfolding wonders of God. Let my liberated spirit not
only look upward, but mount upward, as on eagles' wings, till rising
above the Pleiades, and leaving the Milky-way to fade out in the
receding distance, it walks with God on the ever-ascending plain,
reached only by culture and Christianity.

II.--SELF CULTURE.

[An Address Delivered Before Columbia Christian College, June 7, 1878.]

_Ladies and Gentlemen:_--I am happy in the privilege of again
addressing you in the interests of the great work in which you are so
nobly engaged. To-day many of you go out from under the fostering care
of this institution, to engage in the ceaseless battle of life. That
you have been well panoplied for the conflict is not questioned. And,
if I can second, in some degree, the efforts of your faithful and
worthy Faculty in directing and encouraging you to that success that
should crown their efforts and yours, I shall feel that I have labored
to no trifling purpose. The theme selected for your consideration is

    "_Self-Culture_."

Man, though fallen, is in his ruins grand. His powers of development
are little less than infinite. They begin with the cradle, but do not
end with the grave. No other being begins so low and ascends so high.
In his beginning, he is "crushed before the moth;" in the fullness of
his power he shall "judge angels." In this world he scarcely begins to
live. This life is too short and this world too small for the
development of his God-given faculties. Here he scarcely learns the
alphabet preparatory to God's grand university from which he is never
to graduate. He simply begins the study of an unending book. He but
gathers a few pebbles on the shores of the river of time, then sinks
beneath its wave.

But while in this world we scarcely make a beginning, yet everything
depends on the character of that beginning. As is the beginning, so
will be the conclusion. In the direction taken in time will we progress
in eternity. We may repent of our mistakes here and correct them, but
there is no repentance beyond the grave. There are no mistakes
corrected in eternity. Hence the necessity of a proper use of time.

I have selected the word culture to express the idea which I wish to
convey, and yet I must confess that it does not express it as happily
as I should desire. Where the Greeks had their _paideia_, the Romans
their _humanitas_, we have the more elastic and accommodating word
culture. I use it in this address in the sense of drawing out and
developing the nobler powers that are potentially in fallen humanity.
It is not so much the development of all the faculties in man to their
highest extent, as the directing and training of the better ones to
their true end. We are dealing here with beginnings, not endings. The
perfection of man in all his capacities is not a thing of time. In
time, the character must receive its mold; in eternity, its highest
polish.

By self-culture I mean, of course, the power that one has, and ought to
use, of cultivating himself. "To cultivate anything," says Dr.
Channing, "be it a plant, an animal, a mind, is to make grow. Growth,
expansion is the end. Nothing admits culture but that which has a
principle of life, capable of being expanded. He, therefore, who does
what he can to unfold all his powers and capacities, especially his
nobler ones, so as to become a well proportioned, vigorous, happy
being, practices self-culture." This may apply to those who have not
the advantages of schools and colleges, and to the after education of
those who have.

We hear much in this age about a "finished education at college." There
is, alas! too much truth in the expression. Generally, the more
superficial our collegiate education, the more completely is it
"finished" on the day of graduation. How few young ladies and gentlemen
meet the expectations raised by their educational advantages! How few
years sadden loving hearts with disappointed hopes! How many stars
shine brilliantly within college walls, then go out to be seen no more!
And all this the result of a "finished education!"

Most of these failures are the result of wrong views of education. Our
school days are but a beginning of our earthly education, as this is
but the beginning of that which is to come. It is not what we learn in
school, but what we learn after leaving it, that determines our success
or failure. These advantages are but for the purpose of laying the
foundation; the building is the work of after years. And he who does
not build, does not even preserve the foundation. Alas! how many
well-laid foundations have moldered into ruin! No sooner does the plant
cease to grow than it begins to decay. Therefore, he who would live