October 7th, we started for Lebanon, where we had an appointment at
night. The rains not having extended east, the road was fine and we
glided along beautifully and reached Germantown about twelve o’clock.
Not being acquainted with any person in the place, we drove up to
the only public house we saw, and called for dinner and horse fed.
On entering the bar room, the landlord skipped around the counter,
and running his keen eye over the immense assortment of intoxicating
liquors which lined one end of the room, politely inquired what we
would drink. We answered, “a cup of cold water sir, if you please, when
dinner is ready.” His countenance fell, but he recovered himself and
invited us to take a seat. Presently in came a dirty, rough looking
fellow, with his greasy pants patched from top to bottom, and placed
himself at the counter, with his feet about as far apart upon the floor
as his legs were long, and rolled up his red eyes as he looked out from
his bloated face, while the landlord called out, “What will you have
sir?” He answered, “Hand down old Rough and Ready,” when a huge bottle
of the fiery stuff was instantly set down. He poured a common sized
glass tumbler two-thirds full, swallowed it, smacked his lips and took
his seat. During this time he uttered some dozen or two of the most
horrid oaths he could think of. One after another came in till some
twenty had entered the room in a similar style, among whom there was
not one, not excepting the landlord, who was not a profane swearer. Now
the dinner bell rang, and in a perfect rush we gathered round the table
well spread with the bounties of life. The stream of oaths continued
from almost every mouth. Presently my right hand man commenced
entertaining the company by giving an account of his travels among the
_Hoosiers_, how ignorant they were, and that he had some notion of
turning out preacher among them, as he was certain he could have made
lots of money in that way! Poor silly creature thought we; you must get
sense enough to eat your dinner in a civil manner, when you are in the
company of a stranger, before you can even be an impostor.
Should we call at such a house to stay over night, we should surely
leave, after finding what kind of company we had fallen into. To be
annoyed by the awful stench of tobacco smoke, spit and snuff, with the
wretched scent of a company of men who are never sober, is what we will
not endure if there is any other chance.
“FAITH COMES BY HEARING.”
How remarkable the difference between the apostles’ method of producing
faith, and that pursued by some modern preachers. The latter class
frequently theorize on faith, and the method through which it comes,
but the former, understanding his mission more perfectly, first, set
forth the things to be believed, and secondly, the witnesses by which
God intended to prove them to the world. An august phalanx they are
too! consisting of all the prophets and apostles. “They all bear
witness of him.” Suppose we could see them standing in a long rank,
and among the most distinguished we could see Enoch, Elijah and the
venerable Abraham. We could place our eyes upon the great commander of
the hosts of the Israel of God, and the mighty law-giver, who feared
and trembled, in the midst of thunderings and smoke at Mount Sinai,
viz. Moses.—We look again and behold Samuel, Isaiah, Daniel and
Ezekiel. Passing the lesser prophets, we behold the commanding face and
hear the voice of John the Baptist. Still gazing we behold Peter, James
and Paul and last of all the eye rests upon the venerable John. We then
pause, and reflect upon the tears, the poverty, nakedness, hunger,
thirst, stripes, imprisonments and deaths through which these men
passed and inquire what was all this suffering for? The fact re-echoes
back upon us in the awful and sublime sentence: “For the word of God
and the testimony of Jesus Christ.” Did they thus suffer on this
account? They did. Could they have been anything else but faithful men?
Surely not. They must have been the most sincere and solemn men the
world ever produced: Well could they have been mistaken. Impossible.
The things concerning which they bore witness they SAW and HEARD. “We
were with him in Jerusalem, in the land of the Jews, and _saw him_
after he rose from the dead.” We say then emphatically that they could
not have been insincere nor mistaken, and what they said must have been
infallibly true.