Brother John. Washington, Ind. An accident. An incident.
Indianapolis, Hiram. Garfield.
I must tell you one other story, boys, about how I was not known.
Upon my arrival from Missouri to Indiana I went at once to your Uncle
John's. They did not know I was coming. This was in the fall of
1861. Brother John had not yet returned from his school. When he
did come he stopped at the woodpile and commenced to cut wood for the
next day. His wife stepped out on the porch and said, "John, come
in, there is a man here who wants to stay all night." "Well," said
brother, "let him stay." And he kept on cutting wood. But he finally
came in. I arose and said, "how do you do, sir?" He said, "Howdy."
I said, "I want to stay all night." He said, "Alright, be seated."
I sat down. He said, "Are you traveling?" I said, "I have been."
He said, "Where are you from?" I said, "I am from Missouri." He
asked, "From what part." I told him. "Why," he said, "I have two
brothers living there." I thought he was mistaken, I had forgotten
myself. I said, "What is the name?" He said, "Hastings." I said,
"I know a W. H. Hastings there." He said, "Why, that is my brother.
I also have a younger brother there, Z. S. He is a teacher and they
say he has gone to preaching." I said, "Sure, I don't think he is
there now."
Well, we sat there for half an hour, he asking about his brother and
Missouri, and the war, and I telling what I knew. Finally his wife
said, "John, don't you know that boy?" I arose and he arose and
said, looking at his wife, "Know that man?" "Why, should I know
him?" I extended my hand and said you ought to know me. He
hesitatingly took my hand and said, "Who are you?" I said, "I am you
brother, Z. S." He said, "Impossible, this cannot be Simp." (When I
was a child at home, they called me Simp.) I replied, "Yes I am
Simp." We could hardly make him believe.
How wonderful is life. How little we know. How much of the little
we seem to forget. Yet someone says we never forget anything. I
expect to know more, and know it better, in the life to come. This
brother John was a grand old man, but he has been sleeping in the
grave ever since Nov. 3, 1891. His good wife also sleeps. But they
left one daughter and three sons, who are, at this writing, noble
citizens in Daviers County, Indiana.
I was chosen President of the County Teachers Association and elected
as first assistant principal to teach in Washington, the county seat
of Daviers County, Ind. This town was a little city of about four
thousand. It is now a beautiful city of ten or twelve thousand.
While there I preached in the court house and organized a small
congregation which met to hear me preach and worship in observing the
Lord's Supper, on each first day of the week. Now we have a large
congregation with a great church building costing many thousand
dollars.
While teaching here a very sad accident occurred one Saturday. One
of my pupils and a boy pupil from the room adjoining my room, taught
by a lady teacher, were playing in an old barn with the barrel of an
old army musket which had neither lock nor stock. The boys had the
gun barrel lying horizontally across the top of a barrel, and in
their play they would place percussion caps upon the nipple of the
gun and strike them with a piece of iron to hear the explosion. It
was my boy's time to strike the cap and just as he struck the other
boy was passing in front of the muzzle of the gun, and the gun fired,
tearing the poor boy in front almost in two parts, killing him
instantly. It was very said indeed!
The foregoing was an accident. The following was in incident. One
cold, snowy, stormy, wintry morning while we were at breakfast at my
boarding house in Washington, at once we heard a wonderful crashing
noise of many things fall upon the porch floor and then rush through
an open door of a little room that stood at the end of the porch. My
host ran out and closed the door and what do you think was caught?
Not less than nine quails. We had pot-pie for dinner. The remnants
of that pot-pie left over, served for dinner more or less for nearly
a week until I became very tired of pot-pie. And so changed my
boarding place and boarded with an old, well-to-do retired Hoosier
farmer and his wife. The wife was a most excellent cook. Elder
Howe, who had traveled over nearly all the states as an evangelist,
says no people excel the Hoosiers for their hospitality and god
things to eat.
It was about this period of my life that I attended school at the
Northwestern Christian University at Indianapolis, Indiana, and later
at Hiram, Ohio, 1865-1866. My teachers in Indianapolis were
President Benton and Prof. Nushour, and Dr. Brown. At Hiram, Errett,
Burnett, Milligan, Anderson and Atwater. It was here I saw and heard
General Garfield deliver an address. He was a great and good man.
The most scholarly, pure minded and devout man I ever saw were
Milligan and Anderson.
Prior to my attendance to the schools mentioned above I had seen but
few of our great teachers and preachers. I had supposed the
differences between what they knew and what the ordinary teacher and
what the ordinary preacher knew was almost infinite in their favor
and that their ability to tell it was very superior but, on becoming
acquainted with them, I found they knew nothing more about the unseen
world, heaven or hell, or sin and its forgiveness, or death and
salvation, than the simple scholar and devout student of the Bible.
Now do not think, Boys, for a moment that I am opposed to higher
education, and University training. All these things are a great
help and blessing to any person, provided, he or she accepts that
wisdom that comes from God through His Bible. No man knows anything
beyond the horizon of the present, except what God's Bible reveals.
And faith here becomes the only means by which this knowledge is
obtained. But this is not to be wondered at, for is it not a fact
that we are dependent on faith for nearly all knowledge. Faith is
the greatest principle in the world, unless it is love. And faith is
simply belief. Happy is the man who believes all things and proves
all things, and holds fast to all that is good.
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