peddle about Thomsonian physic? Why don't he and Campbell make steam and
No. 6 as free as preaching? I read of a quack doctor once, who used to
give his advice free gratis for nothing to any one what would _buy_ a
box of his pills--but as I see the pious brother is crawling round the
fence to his anatomical horse and physical saddle-bags, I have nothing
to say, and so, dear friends, I bid you all good-by."
Such was Rev. Elder Sprightly, who preached to us on Sabbath morning at
the Camp. Hence, it is not remarkable that in common with many worthy
persons, he should think his talents properly employed in using up
"Johnny Calvin and his boys," especially as no subject is better for
popularity at a camp-meeting. He gave us, accordingly, first, that
affecting story of Calvin and Servetus, in which the latter figured
to-day like a Christian Confessor and martyr, and the former as a
diabolical persecutor; many moving incidents being introduced not found
in history, and many ingenious inferences and suppositions tending to
blacken the Reformer's character. Judging from the frequency of the deep
groans, loud amens, and noisy hallelujahs of the congregation during the
narrative, had Calvin suddenly thrust in among us his hatchet face and
goat's beard, he would have been hissed and pelted, nay possibly been
lynched and soused in the branch; while the excellent Servetus would
have been _toted_ on our shoulders, and feasted in the tents on fried
ham, cold chicken fixins and horse sorrel pies!
Here is a specimen of Mr. S.'s mode of exciting triumphant exclamation,
amens, groans, etc., against Calvin and his followers: "Dear sisters,
don't you love the tender little darling babes that hang on your
parental bosoms? (amen!)--Yes! I know you do--(amen! amen!)--Yes, I
know, I know it.--(Amen, amen! hallelujah!) Now don't it make your
parental hearts throb with anguish to think those dear infantile
darlings might some day be out burning brush and fall into the flames
and be burned to death! (deep groans.)--Yes, it does, it does! But oh!
sisters, oh! mothers! how can you think your babes mightn't get religion
and die and be burned for ever and ever? (O! forbid--amen--groans.) But,
oho! only think--only think, oh! would you ever a had them darling
infantile sucklings born, if you had a known they were to be burned in a
brush heap! (No, no!--groans--shrieks.) What! what! _what!_ if you had
_foreknown_ they must have gone to hell?--(hoho! hoho--amen!) And does
anybody think He is such a tyrant as to make spotless, innocent babies
just to damn them? (No! in a voice of thunder.)--No! sisters! no! no!
mothers! No! _no!_ sinners, _no!!_--He ain't such a tyrant!
Let John Calvin burn, torture and roast, but He never foreordained
babies, as Calvin says, to damnation! (damnation!--echoed by
hundreds.)--Hallelujah! 'tis a free salvation! Glory! a free
salvation!--(Here Mr. S. battered the rail of the pulpit with his fists,
and kicked the bottom with his feet--many screamed--some cried
amen!--others groaned and hissed--and more than a dozen females of two
opposite colors arose and clapped their hands as if engaged in
starching, etc., etc.) No-h-o! _'tis_ a free, a free, a _free_
salvation!--away with Calvin! 'tis for all! _all!_ ALL! Yes! shout it
out! clap on! rejoice! rejoice! oho-oho! sinners, sinners, sinners,
oh-ho-oho!" etc., etc.
Here was maintained for some minutes the most edifying uproar of
shouting, bellowing, crying, clapping and stamping, mingled with
hysterical laughing, termed out there "holy laughing," and even dancing!
and barking! called also "holy!"--till, at the partial subsidence of the
bedlam, the orator resumed his eloquence.
It is singular Mr. S. overlooked an objection to the divine Providence
arising from his own illustration. That children do sometimes perish by
being burnt and drowned, is undeniable; yet is not their existence
prevented--and that in the very case where the sisters were induced to
say _they_ would have prevented their existence! But, in justice to Mr.
S., we must say that he seemed to have anticipated the objection, and to
have furnished the reply; for, said he, in one part of his discourse,
"God did not _wish_ to foreknow _some_ things!"
But our friend's mode of avoiding a predestined death--if such an
absurdity be supposed--deserves all praise for the facility and
simplicity of the contrivance. "Let us," said he, "for argument's sake,
grant that I, the Rev. Elder Sprightly, am foreordained to be drowned,
in the river, at Smith's Ferry, next Thursday morning, at twenty-two
minutes after ten o'clock; and suppose I know it; and suppose I am a
free, moral, voluntary, accountable agent, as Calvinists say--do you
think I'm going to be drowned? No!--I would stay at home all day; and
you'll never ketch the Rev. Elder Sprightly at Smith's Ferry--nor near
the river neither!"
Reader, is it any wonder Calvinism is on the decline? Logic it _can_
stand; but human nature thus excited in opposition, it can not stand.
Hence, throughout our vast assembly to-day, this unpopular _ism_, in
spite of Calvin and the Epistle to the Romans, was put down; if not by
acclamation, yet by exclamation--by shouting--by roaring--by groaning
and hissing--by clapping and stamping--by laughing, and crying, and
whining; and thus the end of the sermon was gained and the _preacher_
glorified!
The introductory discourse in the afternoon was by the Rev. Remarkable
Novus. This was a gentleman I had often the pleasure of entertaining at
my house in Woodville; and he _was_ a Christian in sentiment and
feeling; for though properly and decidedly a warm friend to his own
sect, he was charitably disposed toward myself and others that differed
from him ecclesiastically. His talents were moderate; but his voice was
transcendently excellent. It was rich, deep, mellow, liquid and
sonorous, and capable of any inflections. It could preserve its melody
in an unruffled flow, at a pitch far beyond the highest point reached by
the best-cultivated voice. His fancy naturally capricious, was indulged
without restraint; yet not being a learned or well-read man, he mistook
words for ideas, and hence employed without stint all the terms in his
vocabulary for the commonest thoughts. He believed, too, like most of
his brotherhood, that excitement and agitation were necessary to
conversion and of the essence of religion; and this, with a proneness
to delight in the music and witchery of his own wonderful voice, made
Mr. Novus an eccentric preacher, and induced him often to excel at
camp-meetings, the very extravagances of his clerical brethren, whom
more than once he has ridiculed and condemned at my fireside.
The camp-meeting was, in fact, too great a temptation for my friend's
temperament, and the very theater for the full display of his
magnificent voice; and naturally, this afternoon, off he set at a
tangent, interrupting the current of his sermon by extemporaneous bursts
of warning, entreaty and exhortation. Here is something like his
discourse--yet done by me in a _subdued tone_--as, I repeat, are most
extravaganzas of the ecclesiastical and spiritual sort, not only here,
but in all other parts of the work.
"My text, dear hearers," said he, "on this auspicious, and solemn, and
heaven-ordered occasion, is that exhortation of the inspired apostle,
'Walk worthy of your vocation.'
"And what, my dear brethren, what do you imagine and conjecture our holy
penman meant by 'walking?' Think ye he meant a physical walking, and a
moving, and a going backward and forward thus? (represented by Mr. N.'s
proceeding, or rather marching, _à la militaire_, several times from end
to end of the staging). No, sirs!--it was not a literal walking and
locomotion, a moving and agitating of the natural legs and limbs. No,
sirs!--no!--but it was a moral, a spiritual, a religious, ay! yes! a
philosophical and metaphorically figurative walking, our holy apostle
meant!
"Philosophic, did I say? Yes: philosophic _did_ I say. For religion is
the most philosophical thing in the universe--ay! throughout the whole
expansive infinitude of the divine empire. Tell me, deluded infidels and
mistaken unbelievers! tell me, ain't philosophy what's according to the
consistency of nature's regular laws? and what's more onsentaneous and
homogeneous to man's sublimated moral nature, than religion? Yes! tell
me! Yes! yes! I am for a philosophical religion, and a philosophical
religion is for _me_--ay! we are mutually made and formed for this
beautiful reciprocality!
"And yet some say we make too much noise--even some of our respected
Woodville merchants--(meaning the author). But what's worth making a
noise about in the dark mundane of our terrestrial sphere, if religion
ain't? People always, and everywhere in all places, make most noise
about what they opine to be most precious. See! yon banner streaming
with golden stars and glorious stripes over congregated troops, on the
Fourth of July, that ever-memorable--that never-to-be-_forgotten_ day,
which celebrates the grand annual anniversary of our nation's liberty
and independence! when our forefathers and ancestors burst asunder and
tore forever off the iron chains of political thraldom! and rose in
plenitude, ay! in the magnificence of their grandeur, and crushed their
oppressors!--yes! and hurled down dark despotism from the lofty pinnacle
of its summit altitude, where she was seated on her liberty-crushing
throne, and hurled her out of her iron chariot, as her wheels thundered
over the prostrate slaves of power!--(Amen)--Yes!--hark!--we make a
noise about that! But what's civil liberty to religious liberty, and
emancipated disenthraldom from the dark despotism of yonder terrific
prince of darkness! whose broad, black, piniony wings spread wide o'er
the ærial concave like a dense cloud upon a murky sky?--(A-a-men!)--And
ain't it, ye men of yards and measures, philosophical to make a noise
about this?--(Amen!--yes!) Yes! _yes!_ and I ain't ashamed to rejoice
and shout aloud. Ay! as long as the prophet was ordered to stamp with
his foot, I will stamp with my foot;--(here he stamped till the platform
trembled for its safety)--and to smite with his hand, I will _smite_
with my hand--(slapping alternate hands on alternate thighs.)--Yes! and
I will shout, too!--and cry aloud, and spare not--glory!
for--ever!--(and here his voice rang out like the sweet, clear tones of
a bugle).
"And, therefore, my dear sisters and brethren, let us walk worthy of our
vocation; not with the natural legs of the physical corporation, but in
the apostolical way, with the metaphysical and figurative legs of the
mind--(here Mr. N. caught some one smiling).--Take care, sinner, take
care! curl not the scornful nose--I'm willing to be a fool for
religion's sake--but turn not up the scornful nose--do its ministers no
harm! Sinner, mark me!--in yon deep and tangled grove, where tall,
aspiring trees wave green and lofty heads in the free air of balmy
skies--there sinner, an hour ago, when the sonorous horn called on our
embattled hosts to go to private prayer! an hour ago, in yonder grove I
knelt and prayed for you!--(hooh!)--yes! I prayed some poor soul might
be given for my hire!--and he promised me one!--(Glory! glory!--ah! give
him one!)--laughing sinner!--take care!--I'll have you!--(Grant
it--amen!--ooohoo!) Look out, I'm going to fire--(assuming the attitude
of rifle-shooting)--bang!--may He send that through your heart!--may it
pierce clean home through joints and marrow!--and let all people say
amen!--(and here amen _was_ said, and not in the tame style of the
American Archbishop of Canterbury's cathedral, be assured; but whether
the spiritual bullet hit the chap aimed at, I never learned; if it did,
his groans were inaudible in the alarming thunder of that amen).
"Ay! ay! that's the way! that's the way! don't be ashamed of your
vocation--that's the way to walk and let your light shine! Now, some
wise folks despise light, and call for miracles: but when we can't have
one kind of light, let us be philosophical, and take another. For my
part, when I'm bogging about these dark woods, far away in the silent,
somber shadows, I rejoice in sunshine; and would prefer it of choice,
rather than all other celestial and translucent luminaries: but when the
gentle fanning zephyrs of the shadowy night breathe soft among the
trembling leaves and sprays of the darkening forests, then I rejoice in
moonshine: and when the moonshine dims and pales away, with the waning
silvery queen of heaven in her azure zone, I look up to the blue concave
of the circular vault, and rejoice in starlight. No! _no!_ NO! any
light!--give us any light rather than _none_!--(Ah, do, good--!) Yes!
yes! we are the light of the world, and so let us let our light shine,
whether sunshine, or moonshine, or starlight!--(oohoo!)--and then the
poor benighted sinner, bogging about this terraqueous, but dark and
mundane sphere, will have a light like a pole star of the distant north,
to point and guide him to the sunlit climes of yonder world of bright
and blazing bliss!"--(A-a-amen!)
Such is part of the sermon. His concluding prayer ended thus--(Divine
names omitted).
"Oh, come down! come, come down! _down!_ now!--to-night!--do wonders
then! come down in _might_! come down in _power_! let salvation _roll_!
_Come_ down! _come!_ and let the earthquaking mighty noise of thy
thundering chariot wheels be heard, and felt, and seen, and experienced
in the warring elements of our spiritualized hearts!"
During the prayer, many petitions and expressions were so rapturously
and decidedly encored, that our friend kindly repeated them; and
sometimes, like public singers, with handsome variations; and many
petitions by amateur zealots were put forth, without any notice of the
current prayer offered by Mr. N., yet evidently having in view some
elegancy of his sermon. And not a few petitions, I regret to say, seemed
to misapprehend the drift and scope of the preacher. One of this sort
was the earnest ejaculations of an old and worthy brother, who, in a
hollow, sepulchral, and rather growly voice, bellowed out in a very
beautiful part of the grand prayer: "Oohhoo! take away _moonshine_!"
But our first performance was to be at night: and at the first _toot_ of
the tin horn we assembled in expectation of a "good time." For, 1. All
day preparation had been making for the night; and the actors seemed
evidently in restraint, as in mere rehearsal: 2. The night better suits
displays and scenes of any kind: but 3. The African was to preach; and
rumor had said, "he was a most powerful big preacher, that could stir up
folks mighty quick, and use up the ole feller in less than no time."
After prefatory prayers and hymns, and _pithy_ exhortations by several
brothers of the Circassian breed, our dusky divine, the Rev. Mizraim
Ham, commenced his sermon, founded on the duel between David and
Goliath.
This discourse we shall condense into a few pages; although the comedy
or _mellow_-drama--for it greatly mellowed and relaxed the
muscles--required for its entire action a full hour. There was, indeed,
a prologue, but the rest was mainly dialogue, in which Mr. Ham
wonderfully personated all the different speakers, varying his tone,
manner, attitude, etc., as varying characters and circumstances
demanded. We fear much of the spirit has evaporated in this
condensation; but that evil is unavoidable.
REV. MIZRAIM HAM'S DISCOURSE
"Bruthurn and sisturn, tention, if you pleases, while I want you for to
understand this here battul most partiklur 'zact, or may be you
moughtn't comprend urn. Furst place, I gwyin to undevur to sarcumscribe
fust the 'cashin of this here battul: second place, the 'comdashins of
the armies: third place, the folkses as was gwyin for to fite and didn't
want to, and some did: and last and fourth place, I'm gwyin for to show
purtiklur 'zact them as fit juul, and git victry and git kill'd.
"Tention, if you please, while I fustly sarcumscribe the 'casion of this
here battul. Bruthurn and sisturn, you see them thar hethun Fillystines,
what warn't circumcised, they wants to ketch King Sol and his 'ar folks
for to make um slave; and so, they cums down to pick a quorl, and begins
a-totin off all their cawn, and wouldn't 'low um to make no hoes to hoe
um, nor no homnee. And that 'ar, you see, stick in King Solsis gizurd;
and he ups and says, says he, 'I'm not gwying to be used up that 'ar
away by them uncircumcis'd hethun Fillystines, and let um tote off our
folkses cawn to chuck to thar hogs, and take away our hoes so we can't
hoe um--and so, Jonathun, we'll drum up and list soljurs and try um a
battul.' And then King Sol and his 'ar folks they goes up, and the
hethun and theirn comes down and makes war. And this is the 'cashin why
they fit.
"Tention, 'gin, if you pleases, I'm gwyin in the next place secondly, to
show the 'comdashins of this here battul, which was so fashin like. The
Fillystines they had thar army up thar on a mounting, and King Sol he
had hissin over thar, like, across a branch, amoss like that a one
thar--(pointing)--and it was chuck full of sling rock all along on the
bottom. And so they was both on um camp'd out; this a one on this 'ar
side, and tother a one on tother, and the lilly branch tween um--and
them's the 'comdashins.
"Tention once more agin, as 'caze next place thirdly, I'm a gwyin to
give purtiklur 'zact 'count of sum folkses what fit and sum didn't want
to. And lubly sinnahs, maybe you minds um, as how King Sol and his
soljurs was pepper hot for fite when he fust liss um; but now, lubly
sinnahs, when they gits up to the Fillystines, they cool off mighty
quick, I tell you! 'Caze why? I tell you; why, 'caze a grate, big, ugly
ole jiunt, with grate big eyes, so fashin--(Mr. Ham made giant's eyes
here)--he kums a rampin' out a frount o' them 'ar rigiments, like the
ole devul a gwyin about like a half-starv'd lion a-seeking to devour
poor lubly sinnahs! And he cum a-jumpin and a-tearin out so
fashin--(actions to suit)--to git sum of King Solsis soljurs to fite urn
juul; and King Sol, lubly bruthurn and sisturn, he gits sker'd mighty
quick, and he says to Jonathun and tother big officers, says he, 'I
ain't a gwyin for to fite that grate big fellah.' And arter that they
ups and says, 'We ain't a gwying for to fite um nuther, 'caze he's all
kiver'd with sheetirun, and his head's up so high we muss stand a hoss
back to reach um!'--the jiunt he was _so big_!!
"And then King Sol he quite down in the jaw, and he turn and ax if
somebody wouldn't hunt up a soljur as would fite juul with um; and he'd
give um his dawtah, the prinsuss, for wife, and make um king's
son-in-law. And then one old koretur, they call him Abnah, he comes up
and says to Sol so: 'Please, your majustee, sir, I kin git a young
fellah to fite um,' says he. And Abnah tells how Davy had jist rid up in
his carruge and left um with the man what tend the hossis--and how he
heern Davy a quorl'n with his bruthers and a wantun to fite the jiunt.
Then King Sol, he feel mighty glad, I tell you, sinnahs, and he make um
bring um up, and King Sol he begins a-talkin so, and Davy he answers
so:--
"'What's your name, lilly fellah?'
"'I was krissen'd Davy.'
"'Who's your farder?'
"'They call um Jesse.'
"'What you follur for livin?'
"'I 'tend my farder's sheep.'
"'What you kum arter? Ain't you affeerd of that 'ar grate ugly ole jiunt
up thar, lilly Davy?'
"'I kum to see arter my udder brudurs, and bring um in our carruge some
cheese and muttun, and some clene shirt and trowser, and have tother
ones wash'd. And when I cum I hear ole Golliawh a hollerin out for
somebody to cum and fite juul with um; and all the soljurs round thar
they begins for to make traks mighty quick, I tell you, please your
majuste, sir, for thar tents; but, says I, what you run for? I'm not
a-gwyin for to run away--if King Sol wants somebody for to fite the
jiunt, I'll fite um for um.'
"'I mighty feer'd, lilly Davy you too leetul for um--'
"'No! King Sol, I kin lick um. One day I gits asleep ahind a rock, and
out kums a lion and a bawr, and begins a-totin off a lilly lam; and when
I heern um roarin and pawin 'bout, I rubs my eyes and sees um gwyin to
the mountings--and I arter and ketch'd up and kill um both without no
gun nor sword--and I bring back poor lilly lamb. I kin lick ole Goliawh,
I tell you, please your majuste, sir.'
"Then King Sol he wery glad, and pat um on the head, and calls um 'lilly
Davy,' and wants to put on um his own armur made of brass and sheetirum
and to take his sword, but Davy didn't like um, but said he'd trust to
his sling. And then out he goes to fite the ole jiunt; and this 'ar
brings me to the fourth and last diwishin of our surmun.
"'Tention once more agin, for lass time, as I'm gwyin to give most
purtikurlust 'zactest 'count of the juul atween lilly Davy and ole
Goliawh the jiunt, to show, lubly sinnah! how the Lord's peepul without
no carnul gun nor sword, can fite ole Bellzybub and knock um over with
the sling rock of prayer, as lilly Davy knocked over Goliawh with hissin
out of the Branch.
"And to 'lusterut the juul and make um spikus, I'll show 'zactly how
they talk'd, and jaw'd, and fit it all out; and so ole Goliawh when he
sees Davy a kumun, he hollurs out so, and lilly Davy he say back so:
"'What you kum for, lilly Jew?--'
"'What I kum for? you'll find out mighty quick, I tell you--I kum for
fite juul--'
"'Huhh! huhh! haw!--t'ink I'm gwyin to fite puttee lilly baby? I want
King Sol or Abnah, or a big soljur man--'
"'Hole your jaw--I'll make you laugh tother side, ole grizzle-gruzzle,
'rectly--I'm man enough for biggust jiunt Fillystine.'
"'Go way, poor lilly boy! go home, lilly baby, to your mudder, and git
sugar plum--I no want kill puttee lilly boy--'
"'Kum on!--don't be afeerd!--don't go for to run away!--I'll ketch you
and lick you--'
"'You leetul raskul--I'll kuss you by all our gods--I'll cut out your
sassy tung--I'll break your blackguard jaw--I'll rip you up and give um
to the dogs and crows--'
"'Don't cuss so, ole Golly! I 'sposed you wanted to fite juul--so kum on
with your old irun-pot hat on--you'll git belly full mighty quick--'
"'You nasty leetle raskul, I'll kum and kill you dead as chopped
sassudge.'"
Here the preacher represented the advance of the parties; and gave a
florid and wonderfully effective description of the closing act partly
by words and partly by pantomime; exhibiting innumerable marches and
counter-marches to get to windward, and all the postures, and gestures,
and defiances, till at last he personated David putting his hand into a
bag for a stone; and then making his cotton handkerchief into a sling,
he whirled it with fury half a dozen times around his head, and then let
fly with much skill at Goliath; and at the same instant halloing with
the frenzy of a madman--"Hurraw for lilly Davy!" At that cry he, with
his left hand, struck himself a violent slap on the forehead, to
represent the blow of the sling-stone hitting the giant; and then in
person of Goliath he dropped _quasi_ dead upon the platform amid the
deafening plaudits of the congregation; all of whom, some spiritually,
some sympathetically, and some carnally, took up the preacher's triumph
shout--
"Hurraw! for lilly Davy!"
How the Rev. Mizraim Ham made his exit from the boards I could not
see--perhaps he rolled or crawled off. But he did not suffer
decapitation, like "ole Golly": since in ten minutes, his woolly pate
suddenly popped up among the other sacred heads that were visible over
the front railing of the rostrum, as all kept moving to and fro in the
wild tossings of religious frenzy.