CHAPTER NINE.

_Labors at Mattoon, Illinois—A Persistent Campaign and a Great

Victory—Second New Goshen Pastorate—A Coincidence—Success at

Prairieton—Laboring in the Shadow—The Death of Mrs. Newgent—A

Bishop’s Tribute to her Character._

The scene of his next labors was Mattoon, Illinois. This was a city of

some ten thousand inhabitants. It had been marked by a mushroom growth,

having sprung from a small village within a few years. More attention,

however, had been given to its material development than to its moral and

religious welfare. It had eleven churches, but what members they had,

were received mostly by letter. Like the city itself, the churches were

made up of a conglomeration of heterogeneous elements. All were lacking

in efficient organization, stability, and vital godliness.

Rev. Mr. Newgent’s church, the United Brethren, like most of the others,

was new in the city. It had but twelve members when he took charge. He at

once conceived the idea of enlisting the various churches in a great and

much-needed revival campaign. He met the local pastors and proposed that

all join in a concerted, evangelistic effort—each to begin a meeting in

his own church on the same date and continue until victory was achieved.

The plan was unanimously agreed to, and on New Year’s Day the campaign

began.

It was a stubborn fight. The bombardment was kept up by all the churches

through the entire month of January with no apparent results. One after

another of the pastors then became discouraged and hauled down his

colors. By the end of February all the batteries had ceased except two,

one of them being Newgent’s. Some of his members, convinced of the utter

futility of the effort, counseled him to quit. But he was determined to

fight it out on that line if it took all summer; and it looked as though

it might take several summers. The largest congregation he had during

those two months numbered twenty-four.

With the beginning of the third month there were unmistakable evidences

of a thaw. Interest was awakened, congregations increased, and on the

fifth day of March the ice gave way completely. At the morning service

the altar was crowded with anxious penitents, and twenty-one were

graciously converted. The news was heralded throughout the city. It was

as though a mighty miracle had been wrought. Newgent’s church became the

center of intense interest, the subject of conversation in the stores

and shops and on the streets. At night it seemed as if all Mattoon was

seized with a sudden impulse to go to church. The house was filled long

before the appointed hour for worship, and the sexton reported that over

five hundred people were turned away. The few days following witnessed

stirring scenes in that church. Multitudes were converted; no definite

account could be taken of their number. One hundred and twenty-eight

members were added to the United Brethren Church, and other churches of

the city profited largely from the fruits of the meeting. It was the

first genuine revival Mattoon had ever enjoyed.

“What I lacked in sense, I made up in holding on,” was Rev. Mr. Newgent’s

modest comment on the situation. But in this case holding on was only in

keeping with his usual good judgment. It was a case where not only prayer

and fasting, but also perseverance were required. Perseverance, however,

is one of his strong points. As a pastor he made it a rule to continue a

meeting until success was realized, a rule that seldom had to be waived.

His labors at Mattoon were followed by a pastorate of two years on the

New Goshen charge, making, with a former pastorate of the same length,

an aggregate of four years of pastoral services on this field. During

these four years he received over six hundred members into the Church and

built two church-houses. His work here was also made memorable by what

might be termed his first great debate, the details of which are reserved

for the next chapter.

The year following was a dark year in his experience, made so by the

failure of his wife’s health, which resulted in her death. He was

serving the Prairieton charge, a charge he had served some years before.

His labors here were attended by the usual success—gracious revivals,

increased spiritual life and activity, churches thrilled with new zeal

and power. A coincidence worth noting in this connection is that his two

terms of service on this field resulted in an equal number of accessions

to the Church, 203 in each case. “I do not think,” he quaintly remarked

concerning his second pastorate, “that these were the same 203 that I

received when I was there before.” The sorry experiences of many pastors

with vacillating church members occasioned and justified the remark.

A great meeting at Prairieton stirred up the congregation and led to

the rebuilding of their church. It was, however, a great struggle. The

church was not strong financially, and the task almost overtaxed their

resources. Rev. Mr. Newgent labored unceasingly to pull the enterprise

through to a successful consummation, contributing of his own scanty

means over three hundred dollars, which necessitated the selling of some

of his household goods.

And now, to add to his already heavy burdens, came that which for some

time had been recognized as inevitable, and under the deep shadow of

which he had been laboring with a heavy heart—the death of his companion.

“Kitty” Newgent, as she was affectionately called by her husband and

intimate friends, was never strong in body, and for many months she had

lingered near the land of shadows. On the day set for the dedication of

the church, for the success of which they both prayed and toiled and

struggled so heroically, she passed triumphantly to her heavenly home.

“Her sun went down while it was yet day.”

She died about eight o’clock in the morning. Bishop Jonathan Weaver,

who had been secured to dedicate the church, was on the ground for that

purpose. When it was learned that the pastor’s wife had passed away, the

Bishop and members of the church suggested that the dedicatory services

be postponed. But as she had helped to plan the day’s program, and was so

anxious for the success of the occasion, Rev. Mr. Newgent urged that the

plans be carried out. So the program of the day was carried out tenderly

and lovingly, the church set apart to the worship of Almighty God, while

he and his three motherless little ones remained in their sad home by the

silent form of the precious wife and mother. Bishop Weaver remained to

conduct her funeral. The following account and worthy tribute from his

gifted pen was published at the time in the _Religious Telescope_, the

official organ of the United Brethren Church:

“Some time ago I arranged with Brother Newgent of the Prairieton Circuit,

Lower Wabash Conference, to attend the dedication of a church on his

field of labor. Accordingly I left home on Saturday, June 13, and reached

Prairieton late in the evening. Upon my arrival there I learned that

Brother Newgent’s wife was very ill; yet I supposed she might recover.

Sunday morning the bell tolled and I knew that some one had passed away.

I immediately started for Brother Newgent’s home, and on reaching it

learned that his wife had just died. It was, indeed, a sad sight. For

seventeen years they had shared the sacrifices and trials incident to

the life of an itinerant. Now he was left with the care of three little

children to fight the battles of life alone. Brother Newgent, as he is

wont to do, labored hard to get the church in readiness for dedication,

anticipating a good time. But it was a sad day. We attended to the

service and dedicated the church with feelings of deep sympathy for the

pastor, who, with his little ones, sat beside the earthly remains of a

beloved wife.

“Sister Newgent was a patient, kind-hearted Christian woman. She had

been in delicate health for a number of years, but neither murmured nor

complained. And when the end came, she quietly fell asleep in Jesus. On

account of her delicate health, Brother Newgent, for a number of years,

seldom remained away from home over night. He would fill his appointment

and ride home after services. But no matter how late at night he would

return, he would always find a light burning, and usually she would sit

up until he returned. But the light is gone out—no, it is burning still.

‘There’s a light in the window for thee, brother.’”

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