Reverend David Rice, known to everyone as "Father Rice," was a graduate
of Princeton, the first ordained Presbyterian minister of Kentucky, and
a firm believer and practitioner of the three ideals of Presbyteranism:
First, the family as a unit in human life; second, the necessity for a
true understanding of the faith; third, the importance of education.
He came to Kentucky from Hanover County, Virginia, in 1783, and between
that time and 1785 organized three churches--at Danville, at Cane Run
and at the Forks of Dick's River.
The first Presbytery of Transylvania met in the court house at Danville,
Tuesday, October 17, 1786. Father Rice was chosen as moderator and the
other ministers present were Adam Rankin, Andrew McClure, James Crawford
and Terah Templin.
He was the first teacher at Transylvania Seminary, founded at Lexington
in 1793. For several years prior to that time, being deeply interested
in the education of young men for the ministry, he had conducted a
private school for Presbyterian theological students at his home; and
the class or school was usually attended by from four to seven students.
In January, 1790, John Calvin Campbell, a graduate of William and Mary's
entered Rice's Seminary, from which he graduated and was shortly
thereafter ordained, after an examination and services conducted by
Father Rice, James Crawford and Adam Rankin.
Among those present at the service, were Dorothy and her mother, David
Clark and his wife and Richard Cameron.
Clark and his wife were a lonely couple, broken and aged by sorrow. They
had never had word of their son, from the departure of the Spanish
frigate on which he had been taken as a prisoner; nor had they ever told
John the contents of Daniel Clark's letter; thinking it might bring
sorrow into his life; and he was ignorant of the cause of their son's
continued absence.
Mrs. Fairfax's chief aim in life was her daughter's happiness; living
anew her own life in that of her daughter. She loved John because her
daughter did; not as a prospective son-in-law, but as a part of her
daughter's life. She seemed to have recovered from the shock of her
husband's tragic death; or at least treated the incident as a closed
chapter in her life. It may have been that she dreaded to inflict her
sorrows upon others; rarely speaking of him even to Dorothy. It may have
been the easier borne because her husband for several years before his
death had been in the habit of making long business trips for Wilkinson
and these had severed the companionable relationship that had existed in
Virginia.
It was understood among the young people of Danville that Dorothy and
John were engaged. They were much together. The comradeship that had
existed between them when they were little children had been renewed by
the journey home after Dorothy's rescue. Each took it for granted that
they were to be married and spoke of it as a matter of course. If
Dorothy had been called upon to tell when and how John proposed, she
first would have been amused, and then after a moment's thought
embarrassed by the question. If John had been asked if they were
engaged, he would have answered: "Why, certainly."
At the close of the service of ordination, Dorothy was the first to
congratulate him. As they stood talking Father Rice came up, and taking
her left hand, because John retained the right, said:
"Miss Fairfax, we have made a preacher of your sweetheart. As he stood
before us, I was impressed by his strong face, his great frame and his
deep voice, thinking what a leader of men he would make, fighting the
battles of men among men; dress him in the uniform of a soldier and he
would look the part; place him in the Congress of our nation and he
would make a name for himself and be an honor to his State. Yet, he has
elected to lay these opportunities aside and answered a call to service,
which many consider an humble one. He is now a warrior of peace; may he
in truth become Chief Cross-Bearer among us, as with the Mingoes. His
greatest reward shall come after death; but he shall find here the peace
of a clear conscience, the satisfaction of work well done and shall be
blessed by the love of a woman, who will make him a happy home and help
him always in his work; though his wife should know that a preacher
belongs to his people rather than to his family. John, am I to be asked
to marry Dorothy and you? If so shall it be within a day or two or after
the Presbytery has assigned you a definite field and you are
established? You know I think all preachers should be married and that
the home next to the church is the most important institution."
"Father Rice, that is as Dorothy wishes. We shall talk it over tonight."
Mrs. Fairfax, Mrs. McDowell, Miss Logan and Mr. and Mrs. Clark coming
forward, their intimate conversation was broken off and John forced to
release Dorothy's hand to respond to the congratulations of his friends.
He walked home with Mrs. Fairfax and Dorothy. It was one of the most
attractive places in Danville. Practically all of its furnishing had
been imported from England to Virginia by Lord Fairfax and brought by
his nephew's family to Kentucky.
In the drawing room were magnificent mirrors, fine tapestries, a
virginal and hand lyre; the floor was covered with heavy velvet carpets
and the window curtains were of the finest linen lace; in an alcove was
a large and well-selected library. On the hall walls hung portraits of
preceding generations, some by great masters; and in the beamed dining
room a massive sideboard was covered with silver plate which bore the
heraldic symbol of one of the first families of Old England.
After her mother left them, Dorothy, the aristocrat, talked with John,
the newly-ordained circuit rider preacher about their marriage. John
said: "I wish to impress upon you that I am a tramp preacher, a calling
which in this new country, forces me to tramp long distances by forest
trails from one settlement to another and to be from home weeks at a
time." Nor did Dorothy count such marriage a sacrifice, as after he
left, with eyes overflowing with tears of happiness, she thanked God
that He had given her John.
They agreed that they would marry as soon as his territory had been
assigned by the Presbytery; in the meanwhile he was to go home and help
with the harvest.
----
Mid-afternoon of the tenth of June, John, laying aside his cradle,
sickle in hand was gleaning the last of the wheat about the fence
corners and stumps of the two-acre field. It is the first they have
grown since leaving Virginia. He planted it the October before, thinking
of his wife to be and his mother.
Corn pone bread, baked in the Dutch oven, heated by being buried in the
red hot coals of the great fireplace was all right for the Colonel and
himself, in fact, they preferred it; but Dorothy and his mother should
have wheaten bread, which could now be ground and bolted at the water
mill at Cumberland Falls.
As almost in tenderness he bound and knotted the last bundle, some one
near called.
"John! John!"
Thrilled, he turned, Dorothy stood before him--and he caught her and
held her in his arms.
"Father Rice and mother are at the house. You have been assigned to this
district, in which you are to live and establish new churches. It is
nearly a hundred miles square; there is only one church and you are the
only preacher. You are to begin work on the first of July; and so to be
with you the longer before you leave, I have come to you, John. Father
Rice and mother thought I should do this. We shall live here as it is
near the center of your district. He has all the papers ready and must
go on at once to Powell's Valley, where he preaches tonight. Kiss me as
much as you wish, but hurry, John. He is waiting to marry us; if you are
not ready, he can do it when he returns in about a week--I thought that
would hurry you a bit."
John, absent-minded in his happiness, picked up the sickle, and carrying
it in his left hand, with his right arm around Dorothy's waist, hastened
towards the house. There, after greetings, and without further
preparation on John's part, other than removing his hat, they were
married.
At the close of the service, Father Rice, in his prayer, called
attention to the sickle, which unconsciously John still held, and when
he released Dorothy's hand, had transferred from his left to his right
hand. "* * * Oh, Lord! We know that you will bless this union of
faithful hearts; and the work which thy harvester will soon assume. As
he now stands ready, make him fit and ready for thy harvest in this his
field, where the grain is ripe and waiting; and may he never leave it
except to gladden a heart as he has done today, standing as now prepared
to return. * * *"
Only those who love as did these two, can understand the happiness of
that Valley honeymoon, which lasted until John was forced to go to work.
Though their journey was but to the Pinnacle and home again and the
bride's trousseau in the main of homespun and buckskin, they knew of
nothing more and wished for no greater blessings than were theirs.
One late afternoon, when the breeze blew cool, and the shadow of the
western mountains covered half the valley, they left home; John carrying
a hamper of good things and a blanket for Dorothy; and climbed to the
Pinnacle, just as the sun sank behind the distant western hills. They
watched the red and the gold of the sunset shift and fade to purple and
then to a night gray; and while the stars were struggling to show
themselves in the light, half day, half night, the golden red harvest
moon came up over the eastern mountains and greeted them with his full
ruddy face and broad smile--and Dorothy smiled back, saying: "The man up
there is an awful flirt. No wonder a woman grows less coy under first
the golden, now the silver mantle of his smile."
When the night grew old and was gray from the morning light they walked
home again; knowing yet more intimately and loving the more, their
mountains, the valley and the trackless wilderness beyond.
----
John brought the wealth of a princely intellect, an educated and quietly
happy mind and tireless energy as his offering to the church. Character
takes color from its surroundings and he seemed to possess the
impenetrable calmness of the mountains.
His work called him from one distant settlement to another. It was his
practice to travel from twenty to forty miles a day and preach at night.
Occasionally his work required him to stop for several days in a place
to organize a church or to hold a protracted meeting or to build a
church. He was called upon to marry couples, to organize schools, to
visit the sick, to bury the dead and to arbitrate neighborhood
controversies.
Wherever he went, he carried a holy influence which in a year or two
spread over his district and an improved social and spiritual influence
seemed to follow his preaching as a benediction.
He broke no appointments because of swollen streams, deep snows or other
physical causes. If the horse gave out or the stream was too turbid to
swim horseback, he dismounted and picketing him, swam across, his Bible
within his coon skin cap and the cap tied tight beneath his chin.
He rode along the trails carrying his Bible and a reference book or two
in his saddle bags. When the trail was one the horse knew and would
follow, he gave him the rein and studied as he rode along.
Wherever he stopped at night, after family prayers, which he asked the
privilege of conducting if not asked; he sat until very late before the
open light-wood fire and prepared the outline for his next day's sermon.
Frequently he was forced to camp in the forest; then he built a great
fire and by its light worked long and zealously upon another sermon. He
knew the solitudes; and having lived the life of those to whom he
preached, he knew his hearers and from homely incidents in their lives
or from the parables illustrated his sermons, talking to half a dozen
primitive settlers with the same conscientious fervor as when his
audience was of considerable proportions because of some social or
political gathering in the neighborhood.
After the first few months he was treated with respect by all the
residents of his district. Occasionally visitors were not so respectful.
Once at a distant county seat, he put up for the night at a tavern where
several lawyers, attending court, were quartered. Seeing him reading his
Bible before the fire, and rather to test his mettle than in an
irreverent spirit, they began discussing the subject of religion; but he
seemed not to hear. When the time came to retire the landlord, as was
the custom of the country, invited him to lead the evening's devotions.
He read a chapter, then all knelt in prayer. In his deep, kindly voice
he prayed: "* * * O Lord! Thou hast heard the conversation tonight,
pardon its folly * * *" and the lawyers, impressed by his earnestness
and repentant of their folly, asked his pardon also.
It was at no small cost of danger and privation that he preached the
gospel to these distant settlements. He never carried a rifle and had
never felt that his life was in danger. Several times when he sat alone
at night by his wilderness camp fire he would hear a stealthy tread
behind him, but knew better than to turn or even move in a startled way.
Sometimes he would hear the steps approach very near and after several
minutes silently steal away again. He knew his girdle had again
protected him.
Once or twice several Indians came out of the night and sat beside his
camp fire talking with him in the Mingo tongue; and once several of his
Mingo friends spent the night at his camp fire. They were in the country
for the purpose of attacking some isolated settlement; and when he asked
them to leave the "Long Knives" of his district alone, they reluctantly
consented.
When it was rumored Indians were about, the settlers offered to act as
guard to his next appointment; but he assured them he was in no danger
when unarmed and unaccompanied. This they came to believe.
Slowly his reputation as an exemplary citizen and a preacher of power
and conviction was made, and his influence as an earnest advocate and
defender of the new Union made his district the strongest Federalist
section of Kentucky. Yet more slowly there spread about a belief that he
was gifted with the miraculous power of curing by laying his hands upon
the head of the sick. It was told that several times after he did this
and kneeling prayed beside his bed, the raving of delirium ceased and
after a long sleep the patient speedily recovered.
As head of the Presbytery Father Rice began to get letters and to be
importuned: "Send us Reverend Calvin Campbell; our district is much more
populous than the one to which he has been assigned and needs just such
a preacher. * * *" Special messengers were sent to him from the Can Run
and Forks of Dick's River churches requesting that he help in their
protracted meetings. These invitations were declined, because his large
district which was growing rapidly provided more labor than he could
perform.
Thus it came about that Dorothy saw less and less of her husband. She
too was busy, else she might have rebelled at the loneliness or by
importunities have hindered her husband's work. Mrs. Campbell had grown
feeble; there were baby clothes to make; and many people visited them,
coming to Kentucky or returning to Virginia; these must be cooked for
and entertained. Every hunter or trader of the district thought it a
duty to call at the preacher's house and stopped overnight or remained
for a meal. They left a ham of venison or a brace of turkeys or a deer
skin for Mrs. Campbell; and always wanted to know how soon their
preacher was coming to their station. At the end of the first year
Dorothy, because of these inquiries and John's mail, realized that her
husband, locally at least, was becoming a famous man and paying the
price of greatness.
Father Rice in the spring of 1791 rode up to the house one afternoon and
said to Dorothy: "I have come to help Calvin out for a couple of weeks;
but he must pay me back by attending the Presbytery and filling my
appointments at Danville, Lexington and Little Mountain."
John came home that night; the next day they preached to a big gathering
at Powell's River Meeting House. After the meeting, which beginning in
the afternoon lasted until eleven o'clock, he rode home alone, leaving
Father Rice to follow in the morning. It was nearly two o'clock when the
long ride was ended; but it gave him a few hours more with his wife.
While Father Rice remained they held meetings at each of the five
churches of his district, four of which had been organized by him. It
was true they were little more than large pens of logs, covered by a
clapboard roof and warmed by a great fireplace built of mud and sticks;
but they were crowded at every service and many stood outside looking in
and listening at the doors and windows. They were as sheep seeking a
fold and came great distances to find one.
When the meetings closed they left to attend Transylvania Presbytery at
Danville. There he met again an old acquaintance, Robert Marshall, who
when a boy of sixteen had been wounded in the battle of Monmouth and had
come home with Colonel Campbell to rest and grow strong again. Several
months before he had moved from Virginia to Kentucky.
After the Presbytery adjourned the three went to Lexington and John
filled Father Rice's pulpit.
The Lexington Gazette made favorable mention of his sermon:
"Calvin Campbell, the young mountain preacher, who lives at Campbell
Station and is a descendant of the Campbells of Scotland, filled Father
Rice's pulpit last Sunday and preached one of the greatest sermons ever
heard in Lexington.
"In a voice of great compass and power, without strain or apparent
mental effort, and in a deft, finished and homiletic style, plain to all
in its perfectness, he made plain the most difficult of truths; dwelling
upon scriptural interpretation rather than doctrinal theme. All who
heard him were captivated by his magnetism and convinced by his earnest
spirituality. We have never before heard a preacher who could picture
the life and mission of the Saviour so effectively, or who by apt
lessons from the parables makes the truths they teach so personal to
each hearer."
The following Sunday John preached in Danville, where he had many
friends and acquaintances. A great crowd came to hear him. It was here
he had gone to the seminary, had married Dorothy Fairfax and at the
political club had answered most convincingly, considering his age,
General Wilkinson's then popular argument. His sermon which follows
indicates his liberal, and as Father Rice felt tempted to say, his
almost unorthodox views.
Making the World Christian.
"Christianity is the development of a great universal partnership,
organized for the redemption of man, between God in the Father, the Son
and the Holy Spirit and man; in which man before Abraham, and Abraham,
Moses, Paul, Augustine, Savonarola and Luther have participated and men
yet unborn will participate.
"Though light was the first thing God made, man to shut out light draws
closely about his eyes the curtains of conceit and prejudice. The white
man, defining his God as a spirit, in his conceit says, he has a
material white body and I am made in his image; while the red man gives
to his god, a spirit, at times a material red body. This is logical in
that if God, a spirit, sees fit to appear to man, or if man appears to
see God, it will be in the highest comprehensive form known to man.
"Again, though Christianity is one of the three religions that teaches
universality and though God knows no race and no people, extending to
all a universal promise, man in combined conceit and prejudice declares
I am of God's chosen people. The reason is obvious; take Judaism; it has
never countenanced universality; to the Jew, God was the god of the
Jews--and surrounded by idolatrous nations--to their inspired prophets
they were the chosen people of God, having been taught by precept and by
experience that God discriminates in his temporal blessings between an
idolater and a follower. It took a vision to remove this prejudice from
the mind of Peter; and today there are those in Christian churches who
could not learn the lesson of universality by many visions, and like
Jonah sit by the roadside hoping and waiting for Nineveh's destruction.
"God, infinite--that is, great past being measured--is not alone the God
of the Presbyterians, of any nation, of the men of today, of this little
world, but all the worlds that have been and that make and are to make
the universe. What right have we to think that the universe was made
simply for the man we know? Is it an unreasonable flight of fancy to
assume that God has spoken through his prophets and given his Son for
the redemption of the men of other worlds than our own? The Bible
literally says, the universe was made for man, because, though inspired,
it is man-worded and God spoke to man through his prophets in a
comprehensive language. He told what was fit in language not to be
restricted to the letter, which is not the custom of the East, but to be
interpreted as man grew in comprehension. Nor is it necessary to a true
faith in God and Christianity to believe that God's prophets never spoke
to humanity or wrote down his messages on tablet or cylinder seal before
those messages were given by the Bible to the Jewish nation.
"Those who question the Bible as an inspired book, say the account of
the creation follows too closely the Babylonian and Chaldean records.
Prophets even figuratively recounting a fact or interpreting a message,
would give it in such form that to the mind of man, the account would be
similar in essentials; and such similarity but tends to prove the truth
of the fact and the same general source of information. A brief portion
of the Chaldean account reads:
"'When the upper region was not yet called heaven,
When the lower region was not yet called earth,
And the abyss of Hades had not yet opened its arms,
Then the chaos of waters gave birth to all of them
And the waters were gathered into one place * *
The moon he appointed to rule the night
And to wander through the night until the dawn of day.
Every month without fail he appointed assembly days.
In the beginning of the month at the rising of the night
It shot forth its horns to illuminate the heavens.
On the seventh day he appointed an holy day
And to cease from all business he commanded.'
"The supposed seat of earliest civilizations, as also the birthplace of
several religions, was in the valley of the Euphrates. There man,
enjoying the benefits of a tropical region, which counted for much in
the beginning, had opportunity for intellectual leisure and gave thought
to religion. These civilizations passed away and the seat passed on to
the Mediterranean coast, where attention primarily was given to the
development of material government; again the seat passed on to Europe
and seems passing to America and to nations devoting their energies to
the material wants of man. We are promised yet another; when 'the earth
shall be filled with the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the
sea;' and that is the task assigned to Christendom.
"To make the world Christian must we modify our definition--'That God is
a spirit, infinite, eternal and _unchangeable_, in his being, wisdom,
power, holiness, justice, goodness and truth'--to 'God is a spirit,
infinite, eternal, but not _immutable_, seeking to preserve all his
creatures as the best of shepherds each of his hundred lambs; anxious
that all find the shelter of the fold--not having decreed from the
beginning the fate of each lamb--but as time shows fitness culling for
service; so anxious to save all the flock as to send his Son as a
vicarious atonement.'
"Thus there comes into the continuity of the partnership between God and
man, the chief character, the Son; transformed into the lowly man of
sorrows, acquainted with grief, having no place to lay his head, hunted
by enemies, stoned out of a city, disowned by kindred and by Peter,
fleeing for his life, betrayed, crucified, suffering the fate of all
reformers, to be despised and rejected, to be misunderstood, to live
alone; yet not alone, because the Father was with him and he and the
Father are one, and he had his mission of redemption.
"His coming, consummating the purpose of the partnership, precipitated a
conflict, which at its physical inception seemed a most uneven struggle.
Arrayed on the one side were a few fishermen under the leadership of a
Nazarene, the son of a carpenter; and on the other, the educated,
self-righteous Jew, the Jewish law, the Jewish church, Greece, decadent
because of her many gods and voluptuousness, mighty Rome, mistress of
the world, enthroned on seven hills and reaching out and drawing to
herself all known realms and empires.
"The trend of victory was first apparent on the land locked sea of
Galilee, the growth spread to Jerusalem, to Antioch, the east coast
cities of the Mediterranean, Rome, Europe, America, the civilized world;
because it offered a gift the world must have. If Scribes and Pharisees,
priests and Levites stopped their ears, Gentiles and prodigals,
Publicans and sinners listened. It preached the true faith, which is
inherently inextinguishable and must live and grow. Some find it easier
to crucify and to part His raiment than to grasp the spirit of His
teaching; yet many hear, and, born again, lead transformed and beautiful
lives.
"Its growth is as 'a lump of leaven which a woman took and hid in three
measures of meal until the whole was leavened.' When the path of prophet
and believer is too easy the growth is slow. The sting of persecution is
necessary to fructify the seed, to make ready the field; but there are
occasional seasons of abundant harvest and never a failure. Gamaliel, in
Acts 5:34-39, gives the reason.
"'Then stood there up in the council, a Pharisee, named Gamaliel, a
doctor of the law, had in reputation among all the people, and the
apostles having been excluded, he said unto them: Ye men of Israel take
heed to yourselves what ye intend to do touching these men. * * * And
now I say unto you, refrain from these men and let them alone, for if
this council or this work be of men it will come to nought; but if it be
of God ye cannot overthrow it; lest haply ye be found to fight against
God.'
"Who is to help in the growth? Missionaries who earn such credentials as
were given Paul and Silas by the Jewish colony of Thessalonica, who
wrote to their orthodox brethren at Jerusalem: 'Those that have turned
the world upside down have come hither also.' The world when wrong side
up must be turned upside down by men like Paul and Silas.
"To make the world Christian the modern preacher must understand that
Christ's gospel is to be preached not alone to Presbyterians but to 'all
the world' and that not he but God brings about the transformation and
conversion. That it is not his province to defend the faith, which needs
not defense, but to preach it. He must stick to his last with the same
zealousness and persistency as is required in other lines of endeavor,
or his message is soon delivered. A preacher who shirks his work,
remouthing to a weary congregation his old sermons, must not complain if
men do not listen. He must work in the vineyard; men do not go to a
theatre to hear a sermon or to a church to see vaudeville. He is not to
give his time to platitudes and polemics and phylacteries and lectures
and dissertations on doctrinal divergences. He must be free and must
speak from his heart as the ambassador of Christ, preaching Christ; and
preaching is the giving of the message of Jesus to a needing soul.
"The church must be more universal, laying aside doctrinal jealousies
and divergences; turn its energies to the harvest; self-sacrifice and
co-operation must reign; love must seek her own and think no evil--then
when all ask, expecting to obey, 'Lord, what wilt Thou have me do?'--the
Mussulman will turn Christian and the wolf and the lamb lie down
together.
"The easy field of labor is not with the so-called Christian people.
Canton may be converted before Boston and Timbuktu before Louisville.
The most sterile earth is that overgrown with the tares of false
doctrine and the most infertile seed is that mouldy with the
supercilious consciousness of no sin, or which having once sprouted has
dried out from inanition. God, tempering the wind to the shorn lamb, has
given to the heathen a mind to receive his truths as a little child.
Life, two hundred fathoms deep in the sea, knows nothing of the storms
that rile the surface, nor of the brightness and warmth of the sun, yet
life and light are there. The deep sea fishes are of vivid colors, many
have an individual lighting system, the waters are phosphorescent, the
plant growth, as near mineral as vegetable, spreads about tendrils and
filaments tipped by lamps, which transform that underworld into a
gorgeously illuminated garden.
"Those who hearken to the final commission, 'Go ye into all the world
and preach the gospel to every creature' are armed with the promise that
'in my name shall ye cast out devils,' speak with new tongues and travel
about unharmed. They have Christ for a companion and are builders of
God's tabernacle, in which when completed, he shall dwell with men and
wipe all tears from their eyes."
----
John was very fond of his cousin, David Clark, and was worried by his
continued absence. Now, as always when he came to Danville, he stopped
with David's parents and of course inquired if they had received any
word from him.
His inquiries seemed to cause his uncle and aunt embarrassment; at least
they answered so indefinitely as to give him the impression that they
knew more than they told.
Near midnight of the Sunday he preached at Danville, Mrs. Clark came to
his room in great distress, saying: "John, Mr. Clark is very ill and I
have sent for the doctor. He is deathly pale and complains of pain about
his heart. He wishes to see you at once."
He went immediately to his uncle's room, who took from under his pillow
a much handled letter, and handing it to him, said:
"You must find David for his mother, we have never heard a word from our
boy since Daniel Clark sent this letter to me; and it only tells why he
was made a prisoner and taken aboard a Spanish frigate which the next
morning sailed for Spain. I am sure he is not dead because several times
I have seemed to see him; and tonight saw him very distinctly for the
first time. I believe he would have spoken and told me how to find him
had not the pain in my heart awakened me. He was walking in a desert
land beside a large white camel, heavily loaded with merchandise and
with him were some half-wild men with long muskets guarding a train or
caravan of camels. He is very far from here and in a strange way I am
informed that neither his mother nor I will see him again, but you will.
He will grow happy in that distant land, make it his home and rear a
family. I have told his mother what I have dreamed; and she says, she
too knows he is not dead. Since the receipt of the letter all we have
ever learned is that the ship which sailed for Spain was wrecked on the
shore of northwest Africa, a hundred miles south of Gibraltar; that a
part of the crew were picked up in a boat at sea; part were drowned and
a few reached the shore, where they were taken prisoners and supposedly
sold as slaves. I believe this is David's fate and you must find out.
"Raise me up a bit; that is better; my heart feels as though it were
being torn in two--how I wish I might see the face of my boy. Give me
your hand, little David, and you too, Annie. It grows dark. Is the
candle burning or has the wind blown it out?"
How quiet the house was the day after the burial; it seemed the soul of
the place was dead. John went to his room and thinking of David was
reminded of the letter Mr. Clark had given him. It was near night; and
lighting a tallow candle he read the copy of the letter General
Wilkinson had sent by him to Governor Miro, requesting that the bearer
should be held a prisoner. It was the letter he had promised Wilkinson
to deliver in person.
Slowly it dawned upon him that whatever might be David's fate, whatever
David might now be suffering, if alive, it was vicarious, a voluntary
substitution for him, as the sufferer had hid his identity to shield a
friend, to give him the opportunity to escape--and he had supposed that
David was under a cloud and afraid or ashamed to return home.
Then he saw red with resentment against Wilkinson, the traitor, the
conspirator. He wished that he might lay his hands upon him and rend him
limb from limb. His soul was torn with the thought that David had done
all this for him, perhaps submitted voluntarily to the supreme
sacrifice, laid down his life for a friend. He suffered as only twice
before he had done; once when a boy of fifteen, sitting on the pinnacle
overlooking Jackson River Valley, he had suddenly appreciated and was
overwhelmed by the sacrifice that Christ had made for him; and again
when he had seen Dorothy swimming to escape from the Indians.
He prayed throughout the night. When morning came, before the sun was
up, he was at the home of Father Rice; and giving him the letter told
all that was necessary to make it understood.
"Father Rice, there is only one thing for me to do; find David and bring
him home to his mother. What Uncle David and Aunt Mary must have
suffered every time they saw me!"
"I doubt that, in fact I would advise against you undertaking such a
thing, had you not promised Mr. Clark to do so. A promise given to one
now dead is certainly as binding as one made to the living. I believe
that God disclosed to Mr. Clark that his son lived and had been given
work to do. You are bound to conclude that if David cannot come home you
cannot go to him. I think it your duty to find out if he is yet alive
and if so his whereabouts. Then if necessary the government must be
appealed to to procure his release. You must remember you are not your
own master. You are the Lord's servant; and having put your hand to the
plow you cannot turn back. This may be one of your crosses, to believe
that your friend is suffering for you. If by the providence of God he
has been transplanted for particular service, he must follow, as you
must follow your predestined work, even though you should be called upon
to leave the side of Dorothy. The destiny of David, as your own, is in
the hand of the Lord and if it is His plan that David shall live and
return to his own country and people he will. However, we must do for
ourselves and our friends all things possible. The Lord when he fed the
thousands made use of the boy's loaves and fishes.
"I would advise that you go to New Orleans and make inquiry for David;
but do not disclose your identity to the Spanish Governor or tell any
one except Mrs. Clark your destination. Go at once so as to return the
more quickly to your work. Robert Marshall, though not yet ordained,
will be given your district until your return and will bear letters and
messages to your wife."