_Subsequent Debates—The Owen Contest—He Gets his
“Treat”—Opponent’s Confession—Dressing “Stone”—A Scared
Baptist—Invades the Lutheran Ranks—Measures Steel with Doctor
Ingram—Dissertation on Infant Baptism—Opponent’s Early
Flight—Concludes the Debate Alone—The Haw Debate._
As the preceding chapter has shown, our subject was not a debater from
choice. He was thrust into the debating arena by circumstances. His
memorable victory over Doctor Holt placed his name in big letters among
the leading debaters of the time, creating demands for his services in
this capacity that could not well be resisted. Besides being in constant
demand to expound and defend the doctrines for which he stood, by his
own, and other denominations of a kindred faith, he figured in some
thirteen debating bouts, a detailed account of which would of itself
make a good-sized volume. Hence, a few passing references to some of
these contests, with some characteristic incidents, is all that will be
attempted here.
Shortly after the debate with Doctor Holt, he received an urgent appeal
from Rev. James Griffiths of the United Brethren Church at Potomac,
Illinois, to come over to his Macedonia and help him. Controversy between
the Christian and United Brethren churches of that section was at white
heat. The Christian Church, under the leadership of a Rev. Mr. Owen,
was pressing the battle to the gates and making things unpleasantly
interesting for Rev. Mr. Griffiths, who was not of a controversial turn
of mind. He felt, however, that the safety of his cause demanded that
his adversaries be met upon their own ground with their own weapons. His
presiding elder, Rev. J. W. Nye, joined in the request that Rev. Mr.
Newgent go to the rescue.
Accordingly, a debate between Owen and Newgent, covering the usual mooted
questions between the two denominations, was arranged. Rev. Mr. Owen
was scholarly and serious, but utterly lacking in the humorous element.
His dry logic was no match for the fiery eloquence and quick wit of his
Irish antagonist. Like the bridegroom at a wedding, he was a rather
inconspicuous figure, except that his part was necessary to the carrying
out of the program. It was an easy victory for the United Brethren and
their allies, resulting in a cessation of hostilities and a reign of
peace in that section of Zion.
A more notable contest was that with Dr. W. B. F. Treat, then president
of Indiana State University, at Bloomington. Doctor Treat, as his
position would indicate, was a man of fine scholarship. He was a minister
in the Christian Church, zealous in the defense of its doctrines, and had
won many trophies as a debater.
The preliminary arrangements for this debate were made by a couple of
ministers, one a representative of the Christian Church, and the other a
United Brethren. Newgent and Treat were secured by the two churches as
their respective champions.
As the two champions were introduced on the occasion of the debate,
the following bit of repartee was indulged in by Newgent, who had been
suffering from some slight temporary ailment: “I am sorry you are not in
good trim,” said Doctor Treat, “I had hoped to find a man who would be
able to put up a good fight.”
“Oh,” said Newgent, “I think I’ll feel better when I get my _Treat_.”
In his opening remarks, Doctor Treat again indulged in some pleasantry
at Newgent’s expense. He referred to his opponent as having been born
in Green County and cradled in a sugar trough. Newgent replied that he
had missed it four miles as to the place of his birth. The sugar trough
part of it, however, he did not deny; but as the trough had served well
to cradle the different members of his mother’s small family of nine
children, he was quite sure the rude cradle suffered no violence at his
hands.
The learned doctor further tried to discount the scholarship of his
opponent by referring to a postal card received from him on which
there were two words misspelled. To this Newgent also had an answer.
“Great speakers,” said he, “are usually deficient in other lines. I now
understand why the doctor is short on debating; all his strength has gone
into his spelling.”
The usual questions were discussed, six in number, the same as in
the great Holt debate. The arguments were listened to by thousands
of interested and enthusiastic spectators, among them ministers and
dignitaries of various denominations, and persons of prominence in
educational, political, and professional circles. As to the result of the
contest, Doctor Treat’s own confession, as brought out in the following
incident, will suffice:
A debate between Newgent and a Rev. Dr. J. W. Stone, of St. Louis,
Missouri, also a minister of prominence in the Christian Church, was
scheduled to take place a few weeks later. In the meantime Doctor
Stone, anxious to learn all he could concerning his opponent, sought
an interview with Doctor Treat. He met him at a church dedication at
which Treat was officiating. The two men, with others, were entertained
for dinner at the same home after the morning service. At an opportune
time, Doctor Stone introduced the subject in which he was especially
interested, and the following conversation between the two men took
place, being overheard and reported to Newgent by a gentleman who leaned
toward his side of the question:
“Are you acquainted with a United Brethren preacher in Indiana of the
name of Newgent?” Doctor Stone inquired.
“I am,” was President Treat’s answer.
“Did you not debate with him some time ago?”
“I did.”
“Is he a scholar?”
“I do not know.”
“Is he logical?”
“I cannot tell. He claimed that he went to school only a few months.”
“How long did you debate with him?”
“Six days.”
“What?” said Doctor Stone in astonishment, “You debated with him six
days, and could not tell whether or not he is educated?”
“Well,” continued the university president, in a meditative mood, “I will
say that he is—_forceful_.”
Doctor Stone looked blank for a moment, and then ventured with a smile,
“May be he whipped you?”
“I don’t know,” was the guarded answer, “but I am inclined to believe
that my people thought he did.” Observing that Stone was intensely
interested, Treat inquired:
“Are you thinking of debating with him?”
Stone answered in the affirmative.
“Can’t you get out of it in some honorable way?”
Stone replied that he was not wanting “out of it.”
“But you may want out of it,” was Treat’s not very assuring reply.
“Why, is he not fair in debate? Is he not a gentleman?”
“Yes,” answered Treat, “so much so that all your people who know him
love to be with him and hear him talk.” And the conversation drifted
into other channels. But Doctor Stone, being from Missouri, waited to be
shown. And the debate was held according to schedule.
About this time Doctor Stone was enjoying no small degree of notoriety.
He had debated with a Methodist minister in southern Illinois, and so
completely mastered him that he acknowledged his defeat in sack cloth and
ashes, and joined the Christian Church. Stone was taking advantage of his
newly-acquired popularity in waging a relentless war against the “sects,”
as he termed them, when some of the Pedo-Baptists secured Newgent to meet
him in debate. And the challenge was brought to the great, self-important
Doctor Stone.
“Newgent!” said this supposed Goliath with a contemptuous sneer. “He
can’t debate. He’s an Irish peddler who used to sell table-cloths in my
father’s neighborhood.” The committee informed him that they were willing
to risk their case with the Irish peddler. However, Stone’s visit to
Doctor Treat to get information concerning the Irishman would indicate
that his contempt was more feigned than real.
The debate was held in a small town in southern Illinois, where the
doctor had been making havoc of the “sects.” The table-cloth story became
current, and much speculation was indulged in concerning the supposed
vender of household commodities. His coming to the village was awaited
with intense interest. When the train on which he was scheduled to
arrive pulled in at the station, a curious and enthusiastic crowd was
waiting to get a view of the man who dared to dispute the wisdom of
Doctor Stone. As he stepped from the car, a gentleman who knew him said,
pointing him out, “There’s the table-cloth peddler.”
A hearty salute was given by the crowd. Newgent, having been apprised of
the story, was equal to the occasion. As soon as the hubbub ceased, he
addressed the crowd, turning the table-cloth story against his opponent
in the following speech:
“Gentlemen, if you have come here to buy table-cloths, you will be
disappointed. I have changed my occupation. I have been informed that
there is some fine stone in southern Illinois, so I have come down here
to set up my shop and spend a few days dressing Stone.”
The “Stone dressing” joke superseded the table-cloth story and became a
catch phrase throughout the debate.
It is likely that Stone often called to mind the friendly advice of
Doctor Treat, and regretted that he did not take it. He could cope
neither with the argument, the quick wit, nor the physical endurance of
his opponent. His voice failed completely, and the last two addresses
of Newgent were unanswered. The Stone-dressing business proved eminently
successful.
An amusing incident occurred in connection with a debate in Kentucky
with a Doctor Fairchilds, an eminent Baptist minister. A story came to
the ears of Doctor Fairchilds after he came on the ground, to the effect
that Newgent was a man of extraordinary scholarship, that he was master
of some thirteen languages, etc. The doctor was visibly disconcerted by
the story, and after hearing Newgent’s first address, was fully persuaded
that it was true, especially the part relating to the thirteen languages.
He was quite nervous, and utterly broke down about the middle of the
program, leaving the supposed master of thirteen languages easily master
of the situation.
While on his official rounds as superintendent of the Tennessee
Mission Conference, he once chanced to invade a Lutheran community,
which set in motion a train of influences that terminated in a debate
with a representative of that body. This was about eight miles from
Greenville. He was visiting a United Brethren family that had moved into
the community, and in company with his host, called at the district
school, and made a talk to the pupils. Through the influence of his
host, the school house was secured for a preaching service that evening.
Other influences then began to be felt, and the meeting was continued
indefinitely, resulting in a sweeping revival, the organization of a
United Brethren church, and the building and dedication of a church-house
within two months from the close of the revival.
This occasioned great concern among the Lutherans who lost quite heavily
as a result of the United Brethren invasion. To regain their lost ground,
they challenged Rev. Mr. Newgent to debate certain doctrinal questions
with a representative of their church. Newgent was then in his element,
in the debate, and answered that he would be ready at any time to
accommodate them.
The Lutheran champion was Dr. J. C. Miller, president of one of their
church schools. The much-mooted question as to what body constituted
the true church was the first taken up, Doctor Miller posing as the
representative of a church whose doctrines and usages are identical with
those taught and exemplified in the New Testament.
This placed upon Miller the Herculean task of defending the various
tenets and practices peculiar to his church. Among other specimens of
Lutheran creed, Newgent read the following: “The infant’s heart is
corrupt, and it cannot be saved unless baptized by a Lutheran minister
with heavenly, gracious water.” When asked if his church taught that,
Doctor Miller admitted that it did.
Newgent showed this bit of dogma up in a bad light by the use of an
object lesson. Borrowing a baby from a mother in the audience, he held
it up before the crowd, stating that the “little rascal’s” heart is
corrupt and its only chance for salvation was by being baptized according
to the Lutheran formula. “Now,” he continued, “I want this brother to
demonstrate to this audience how a baby must be saved. I want him to
change this baby’s heart from a state of corruption to a state of purity.
I want to see how a baby is saved, for, according to his theology, I have
three babies in hell.”
The brother winced under this outburst of sarcasm. He refused to baptize
the child, which, had he done so under the circumstances, would scarcely
have made his doctrine appear less obnoxious. Other peculiar Lutheran
tenets appeared to the same disadvantage under similar treatment, and
the church’s hope of gaining its lost ground completely vanished. The
debate popularized the United Brethren Church, giving it a strong hold
in the community. Flag Branch, a flourishing rural church, stands as a
monument to Rev. Mr. Newgent’s labors in that section.
Another contest worthy of special note was with a Baptist minister
at Blue Springs, Tennessee, in 1882. The mode of baptism was a live
question throughout that region. The battle line was drawn by the
Baptists and Pedo-Baptists. They finally agreed to have the question
discussed in a public debate, each side to furnish its champion. Three
churches were represented on the immersion side, and seven on the other.
The immersionists secured as their representative, Doctor Ingram, a
prominent Baptist divine of Virginia. Newgent was selected by the
anti-immersionists. The debate was to cover six propositions and to
continue six days, one subject being slated for each day.
The Baptists were very desirous of including infant baptism in the list
of subjects to be discussed. This was a question that Newgent had never
debated, and in which he had very little interest. But to accommodate
the Baptists, he consented to defend the practice of infant baptism. His
opponent proposed the question, stating it as follows: “_Resolved_, That
infants are fit subjects for baptism.” Newgent consented to affirm it.
It was slated for the second day. In his opening remarks, Newgent said:
“Mr. President, this is a peculiar question; but my brother wrote it and
insisted that I affirm it. It is peculiar from the fact that I am not
to prove that the child needs baptism, or that there is any command for
infant baptism, or that there ever was an infant baptized. I am simply
asked to prove that a child is a fit subject for baptism.”
At these remarks a storm of protest arose from the immersionists. They
expected him to defend the vast array of teaching that the various
Pedo-Baptist bodies had put forward on the subject.
“Keep cool,” he said to the immersionist part of the crowd as they
were clamoring for a hearing and creating no little confusion. “Doctor
Ingram and I signed these papers, and we agreed to be governed by the
board of moderators. This question simply deals with the child’s fitness
for baptism. I appeal to the moderators.” The moderators sustained his
position.
He then asked his opponent whether or not the Baptist Church would
baptize a subject until he was converted and became as a little child.
His opponent stated that it would not. This gave him a splendid
foundation for his address, and, at the same time, removed the last
foundation stone from under his opponent, so far as infant baptism was
concerned. He made an earnest and eloquent address, showing that the
child is a type of the heavenly citizen, and as such possesses special
fitness for all the sacraments of God’s house.
While he was talking, his attention was called to Doctor Ingram. The
doctor, grip in hand, was making rapid strides toward the railroad
station. His moderator and some friends were accompanying him, trying to
persuade him to remain. But he could endure it no longer.
The doctor’s retreat caused a great sensation, relished immensely by the
Pedo-Baptists, but a bitter dose to the immersionists. There were yet
four days of the program remaining. Newgent’s side demanded, as they were
paying him for his work, that he remain and carry out his part of the
program. This he did, but as the debate had only one end to it during
those four days, it spoiled the excitement, though it served well the
purpose of those who had employed him.
Among his later debates was one held in 1898 at Mechanicsville, Indiana.
Dr. J. W. Haw, of the Christian Church, was his opponent on this
occasion. Doctor Haw had been holding revival meetings in that part of
Indiana, and being dogmatic in style and controversially inclined, was
unsparing in his denunciations of other denominations. His aggressions
and criticisms were disturbing the equilibrium of some of the brethren
whose churches were being used as a target by this ecclesiastical
Nimrod. They wrote to Newgent, then in Tennessee, urging him to champion
their side against Doctor Haw in debate, offering him fifty dollars
per day and expenses for his time. He consented on condition that the
propositions were fair and that the reverend gentleman in question was a
representative man in his church.
He was referred to a two-column article in a current number of
the _Christian Standard_ relating to Doctor Haw. The article was
extravagant in the use of adjectives describing the doctor’s ability and
achievements, stating that he was the leading debater in the Christian
Church, having had more such battles than any other man in it at that
time. This was quite satisfactory to Newgent, as at that period he did
not care to waste any shot or shell on small game.
In this, as in all other such contests, Newgent abundantly sustained
his position and satisfied the expectations of his supporters. His
experience, self-control, complete mastery of the subjects in hand,
humor, and physical endurance made him an antagonist that even the
greatest debater in a debating church could illy cope with. The general
verdict of even Doctor Haw’s own sympathizers was that it was decidedly a
one-sided affair.