The camp was an old and favourite ground, eight miles
from Woodville. It had been the theatre of many a spirit-stirring
drama; and there, too, many a harvest of glory had
been reaped in battling with “the devil and his legions.”
Yet wonderful! his satanic majesty never became shy of a
spot where he was said always to have the worst of the
fight! and now it was commonly said and believed that a
prodigious great contest was to come off; and “hell-defying”
challenges had been given in some Woodville
pulpits for Satan to come out and do his prettiest. Nay, by
certain prophets that seemed to have the gift of discerning
spirits, it was “allowed the ole boy was now out at camp[26]
in great force—that some powerful fights would be seen,
but that the ole fellow would agin and agin git the worst
of it.”

The camp proper was a parallelogramic clearing, and
was most of the day shaded by the superb forest trees, which
admitted, here and there, a little mellow sunshine to gleam
through the dense foliage upon their own dark forms quivering
in a kind of living shadow over the earth. At night,
the camp was illuminated by lines of fires kindled and duly
sustained on the tops of many altars and columns of stone
and log-masonry—a truly noble and grand idea, peculiar to
the West. Indeed, to the imaginative, there is very much
to bewitch in the poetry and romance of a Western campmeeting:—
the wildness, the gloom, the grandeur of our
forests—the gleaming sunlight by day, as if good spirits
were smiling on the sons of light in their victories over the
children of darkness—the clear blue sky like a dome over
the tents—that dome, at night, radiant with golden stars, like
glories of heaven streaming through the apertures of the

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concave! And the moon!—how like a spirit world, a residence
of ransomed ones! The very tents, too!—formed
like booths at the feast of tabernacles, and seeming to be
full of joyous hearts—a community having all things common,
dead to the world, just ready to enter heaven! And
when the trumpet sounded for singing!—the enthusiastic
performance of child-like tunes, poured from the hearts of
two thousand raptured devotees, till the bosom of the wilderness
trembles and rejoices while it rolls over its wooded
hills and through its dark valleys the echo of the pæan
with the peal of deep thunder and the roar of rushing whirlwinds!

Under the direction of wise and talented men, a campmeeting
may possibly be a means of a little permanent
good; but, with the best management, it is a doubtful means
of much moral and spiritual good—nay, it cannot long be
used in a cautious and sober way. In religion, as in all
other affairs, where the main dependence is on expedients to
reach the moral man through the fancy and imagination, what
begins in poetry must soon end in prose. Nay, if a religious
meeting be protracted beyond one or two days, novelties must
be introduced; and such are invariably exciting and entertaining,
but never spiritual and instructive; if not introduced,
the meeting becomes, in the opinion of the majority,
stale. Heat, and flame, and smoke, constitute, with most,
“a good meeting.” Nay, again, and yea also, the final
result of man-contrived means and measures is at war with
true courtesy, uncensorious feelings, the cheerful discharge
of daily secular duties, and the culture of the intellect.
The whole is selfish in tendency and promotive of presumptuous
confidence, and a contemptible self-righteousness.
Adequate reasons enough may be assigned for the
popularity of camp-meetings, and none of them essentially
religious or even praise-worthy; although many essentially
worthy and religious persons both advocate and attend such

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places; for instance, the love of variety and novelty—the
desire of excitements—romantic feelings—tedium of common
every-day life--love of good fellowship--and even a
willingness to obtain a cheap religious character--and,
also, a secret hope that we please God and merit heaven
for so extraordinary and long-continued devotion. Add,
our innate love of pageantry, inclining us not only to behold
scenes but to make and be a part of scenes; for even in
this sense—“All the world's a stage, and all the men and
and women merely players.”

A camp-meeting might, indeed, be reformed; and so might
the theatre—but the one event is no more probable than
the other: and as a reformed theatre would be little visited,
so we apprehend would be a reformed camp-meeting.
The respective abuses of both are essential to their existence.
But this is digressing.

The tents were in a measure permanent fixtures, the uprights
and cross pieces remaining from season to season;
but now all were garnished with fresh and green branches
and coverings. These tents formed the sides of the parallelogram,
intervals being left in suitable places for alleys
and scaffolds; while in the woods were other more soldierly-looking
tents of linen or canvass, and pitched in true
war style; although not a few tents were mere squares of
sheets, coverlets and table-cloths. Also for tents were up
propped some twenty or thirty carts and wagons, and furnished
with a chair or two, and some sort of sleeping
apparatus. In the rear of the regular tents, and, indeed,
of many others, were places and fixtures for kinding a fire
and boiling water for coffee, tea, chocolate, &c. &c.—a
few culinary operations being yet needed beyond the
mountains of food brought from home ready for demolition.

Indeed, a camp-meeting out there is the most mammoth
pic-nic possible; and it is one's own fault, saint or sinner, if
he gets not enough to eat, and that the best the land affords.

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It would be impossible even for churlish persons to be stingy
in the open air; the ample sky above and the boundless
woods around; the wings of gay birds flashing in sunshine,
and the squirrels racing up gigantic trunks and barking and
squeaking amid the grand branches; and what then must
be the effect of all on the proverbially open-hearted native
born Westerns? Ay! the native Corn-Cracker, Hoosier,
Buckeye, and all men and women “born in a cane-brake
and rocked in a sugar trough,”—all born to follow a trail
and cock and old fashioned lock-rifle,—all such are openhearted,
fearless, generous, chivalric, even in spite of much
filth and scum and base leaven from foreign places. And
hence, although no decided friend to camp-meetings, spiritually
and morally and theologically considered, we do
say that at a Western camp-meeting as at a barbecue, the
very heart and soul of hospitality and kindness is wide
open and poured freely forth. We can, maybe, equal it in
here; but we never try.[27]

Proceed we now to things spiritual. And first, we give
notice that attention will be paid only to grand matters
and that very many episodial things are omitted, such as
incidental exhortations and prayers from authorized, as well
as unauthorized folks, male and female, whose spirits often
suddenly stirred, and not to be controlled like those of oldfashioned
prophets, forced our friends to speak out, like
quaker ladies and gentlemen in reformed meetings, and even
when they have nothing to say; and also will be omitted
all irregular outcries, groans, shouts, and bodily exercises,
subordinate, indeed, to grand chorusses and contests, but
otherwise beginning without adequate cause and ending
in nothing.

The camp was furnished with several stands for preaching,
exhorting, jumping and jerking; but still one place

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was the pulpit above all others. This was a large scaffold
secured between two noble sugar trees, and railed in to prevent
from falling over in a swoon, or springing over in
an ecstacy; its cover the dense foliage of the trees whose
trunks formed the graceful and massive columns. Here
was said to be also the altar—but I could not see its horns
or any sacrifice; and the pen, which I did see—a place
full of clean straw, where were put into fold stray sheep
willing to return. It was at this pulpit, with its altar and
pen, the regular preaching was done; around here the
congregation assembled; hence orders were issued; here,
happened the hardest fights and were gained the greatest
victories, being the spot where it was understood Satan
fought in person; and here could be seen gestures the most
frantic, and heard noises the most unimaginable, and often
the most appalling. It was the place, in short, where most
crowded either with praise worthy intentions of getting some
religion, or with unholy purposes of being amused; we of
course designing neither one nor the other, but only to see
philosophically and make up an opinion. At every grand
outcry a simultaneous rush would, however, take place
from all parts of the camp, proper and improper, towards
the pulpit, altar, and pen; till the crowding, by increasing
the suffocation and the fainting, would increase the tumult
and the uproar; but this in the estimation of many devotees
only rendered the meeting more lively and interesting.

By considering what was done at this central station
one may approximate the amount of spiritual labour done
in a day, and then a week in the whole camp:

1. About day-break on Sabbath a horn blasted us up for
public prayer and exhortation—the exercises continuing
nearly two hours.

2. Before breakfast, another blast for family and private
prayer; and then every tent became, in camp language,
“a bethel of struggling Jacobs and prevailing Israels;”

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every tree “an altar;” and every grove “a secret closet;”
till the air all became religious words and phrases, and
vocal with “Amens.”

3. After a proper interval came a horn for the forenoon
service; then was delivered the sermon, and that followed
by an appendix of some half dozen exhortations let off right
and left, and even behind the pulpit, that all might have a
portion in due season.

4. We had private and secret prayer again before dinner;—
some clambering into thick trees to be hid, but forgetting
in their simplicity, that they were heard and betrayed.
But religious devotion[28] excuses all errors and mistakes.

5. The afternoon sermon with its bob-tail string of exhortations.

6. Private and family prayer about tea time.

7. But lastly, we had what was termed “a precious
season” in the third regular service at the principia of the
camp. This season began not long after tea and was kept
up long after I left the ground; which was about midnight.
And now sermon after sermon and exhortation after exhortation
followed like shallow, foaming, roaring waters; till
the speakers were exhausted and the assembly became an
uneasy and billowy mass, now hushing to a sobbing quiescence,
and now rousing by the groans of sinners and the
triumphant cries of folks that had “jist got religion;” and
then, again subsiding to a buzzy state occasioned by the
whimpering and whining voices of persons giving spiritual
advice and comfort! How like a volcanic crater after the
evomition of its lava in a fit of burning cholic, and striving
to re-settle its angry and tumultuating stomach!

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It is time, however, to speak of the three grand services
and their concomitants, and to introduce several master
spirits of the camp.

Our first character, is the Reverend Elder Sprightly.
This gentleman was of good natural parts; and in a better
school of intellectual discipline and more fortunate circumstances,
he must have become a worthy minister of some
more tasteful, literary, and evangelical sect. As it was,
he had only become, what he never got beyond—“a very
smart man;” and his aim had become one—to enlarge his
own people. And in this work, so great was his success,
that, to use his own modest boastfulness in his sermon today,—
“although folks said when he came to the Purchase
that a single corn-crib would hold his people, yet, bless the
Lord, they had kept spreading and spreading till all the
corn-cribs in Egypt wern't big enough to hold them!”

He was very happy at repartee, as Robert Dale Owen
well knows; and not “slow” (inexpert) in the arts of
“taking off”—and—“giving them their own.” This trait
we shall illustrate by an instance.

Mr. Sprightly was, by accident, once present where a
Campbellite Baptist, that had recently taken out a right for
administering six doses of lobelia, red pepper and steam,
to men's bodies, and a plunge into cold water for the good
of their souls, was holding forth against all Doctors, secular
and sacred, and very fiercely against Sprightly's brotherhood.
Doctor Lobelia's text was found somewhere in
Pope Campbell's New Testament; as it suited the following
discourse introduced with the usual inspired preface:—

Doctor Lobelia's Sermon.

“Well, I never rub'd my back agin a collige, nor git no
sheepskin, and allow the Apostuls didn't nithur. Did anybody
ever hear of Peter and Poll a-goin to them new-fangled
places and gitten skins to preach by? No, sirs, I allow

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not; no sirs, we don't pretend to loguk—this here new testament's
sheepskin enough for me. And don't Prisbeteruns
and tother baby sprinklurs have reskorse to loguk and skins
to show how them what's emerz'd didn't go down into the
water and come up agin? And as to Sprightly's preachurs,
don't they dress like big-bugs, and go ridin about the Purchis
on hunder-dollur hossis, a-spunginin on poor priestriden
folks and and a-eaten fried chicken fixins so powerful
fast that chickens has got skerse in these diggins; and
them what ain't fried makes tracks and hides when they
sees them a-comin?

“But, dear bruthrun, we don't want store cloth and yaller
buttins, and fat hosses and chickin fixins, and the like
doins—no, sirs! we only wants your souls—we only wants
beleevur's baptism—we wants prim—prim—yes, Apostul's
Christianity, the christianity of Christ and them times,
when Christians was Christians, and tuk up thare cross
and went down into the water, and was buried in the gineine
sort of baptism by emerzhin. That's all we wants;
and I hope all's convinced that's the true way—and so let
all come right out from among them and git beleevur's baptism;
and so now if any brothur wants to say a word I'm
done, and I'll make way for him to preach.”

Anticipating this common invitation, our friend Sprightly,
indignant at this unprovoked attack of Doctor Lobelia, had,
in order to disguise himself, exchanged his clerical garb
for a friend's blue coatee bedizzened with metal buttons;
and also had erected a very tasteful and sharp coxcomb on
his head, out of hair usually reposing sleek and quiet in the
most saint-like decorum; and then, at the bid from
the pulpit-stump, out stepped Mr. Sprightly from the opposite
spice-wood grove, and advanced with a step so
smirky and dandyish as to create universal amazement and
whispered demands—“Why! who's that?!” And some
of his very people, who were present, as they told me, did

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not know their preacher till his clear, sharp voice, came
upon the hearing, when they showed, by the sudden lifting
of hands and eyebrows, how near they were to exclaiming—
“Well! I never!!”

Stepping on to the consecrated stump, our friend, without
either preliminary hymn or prayer, commenced thus:—

“My friends, I only intend to say a few words in answer
to the pious brother that's just sat down, and shall not detain
but a few minutes. The pious brother took a good
deal of time to tell what we soon found out ourselves—
that he never went to college, and don't understand logic.
He boasts too of having no sheep skin to preach by; but I
allow any sensible buck-sheep would have died powerful
sorry, if he'd ever thought his hide would come to be handled
by some preachers. The skin of the knowingest old
buck couldn't do some folks any good—some things salt
won't save.

“I rather allow Johnny Calvin's boys and `'tother baby
sprinklers,' ain't likely to have they idees physicked out of
them by steam logic, and doses of No. 6. They can't be
steamed up so high as to want cooling by a cold water
plunge. But I want to say a word about Sprightly's
preachers, because I have some slight acquaintance with
that there gentleman, and don't choose to have them all run
down for nothing.

“The pious brother brings several grave charge s; first
they ride good horses. Now don't every man, woman,
and child in the Purchase know that Sprightly and his
preachers have hardly any home, and that they live on
horseback? The money most folks spend in land, these
men spend for a good horse; and don't they need a good
horse to stand mud and swim floods? And is it any sin
for a horse to be kept fat that does so much work? The
book says `a merciful man is merciful to his beast,' and
that we mustn't `muzzle the ox that treadeth out the corn.'

[figure description] Page 142.[end figure description]

Step round that fence corner, and take a peep, dear friends,
at a horse hung on the stake; what's he like? A wooden
frame with a dry hide stretch'd over it. What's he live on?
Ay! that's the pint? Well, what's them buzzards after?—
look at them sailing up there. Now who owns that live
carrion?—the pious brother that's preached to us just now.
And I want to know if it wouldn't be better for him to give
that dumb brute something to cover his bones, before he talks
against `hunder dollur hossis' and the like?

“The next charge is, wearing good clothes. Friends,
don't all folks when they come to meeting put on their best
clothes? and wouldn't it be wrong if preachers came in old
torn coats and dirty shirts? It wouldn't do no how. Well,
Sprightly and his preachers preach near about every day;
and oughtn't they always to look decent! Take then a
peep of the pious brother that makes this charge; his coat
is out at elbow, and has only three or four buttons left, and
his arm, where he wipes his nose and mouth, is shiney as
a looking glass—his trousers are crawling up to show he's
got no stockings on; and his face has got a crop of beard
two weeks old and couldn't be cleaned by `baby sprinklin;'
yes, look at them there matters, and say if Sprightly's
preachers ain't more like the apostles in decency than the
pious brother is.

“A word now about chicken-fixins and doins. And I
say it would be a charity to give the pious brother sich a
feed now and then, for he looks half-starved, and savage as
a meat-axe; and I advise that old hen out thare clucking
up her brood not to come this way just now, if she don't
want all to disappear. But I say that Sprightly's preachers
are so much beliked in the Purchase, that folks are always
glad to see them, and make a pint of giving them the best
out of love; and that's more than can be said for some
folks here.

“The pious brother says, he only wants our souls—then

[figure description] Page 143.[end figure description]

what makes him 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 more to say, and so,
dear friends, I bid you all good-bye.”

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 persecuter;
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, &c., 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

[figure description] Page 144.[end figure description]

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? (the Lord
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 any body think He[29] 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! 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 colours arose and clapped their
hands as if engaged in starching, &c. &c.) 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!”
&c. &c.

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

[figure description] Page 145.[end figure description]

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 argnment'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 cannot 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

[figure description] Page 146.[end figure description]

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 towards myself and others that differed
from him ecclesiastically. His talents were moderate;
but his voice was transcendentally excellent. It
was rich, deep, mellow, liquid and sonorous, and capable
of any inflections. It could preserve its melody in an un-ruffled
flow, at a pitch far beyond the highest point reached
by the best cultivated voices. 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 theatre 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.
'

[figure description] Page 147.[end figure description]

“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, a là 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
consentaneous 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!
you banner streaming with golden stars and glorious stripes
over congregated troops on the fourth of July, that evermemorable—
that never-to-be-forgotten day, which celebrates
the grand annual aniversary 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 arose in plenitude, ay! in the

[figure description] Page 148.[end figure description]

magnnificence 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! — hallelujah!) — 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 aërial
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!

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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 the 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 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 sombre 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 star light. No! no! NO! any light!—give us any light
rather than none!—(Ah, do, good Lord!) Yes! yes! we
are the light of the world, and so let us let our light
shine, whether sunshine, or moonshine, or star light!—
(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 sun-lit climes of yonder world of
bright and blazing bliss!”—(A-a-a-amen!)

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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 finest 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 suits better displays
and scenes of any kind: but 3. the African was to
preach; and rumour 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;

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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, &c, 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 purtiklur
'zact, or may be you moughtn't comprend 'um. Furst place,
I'm 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 warnt 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 ho 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

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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
afrunt 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
um 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 gwyin for to fite um nuthur, '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 ole
koretur, they call him Abnah, he comes up and say to Sol so:
`Please your majuste, sir, I kin git a young fellah to fite um,'
says he. And Abnah tells how Davy had jist rid up in his

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carruge and left um with the man what tend the hossis—
and how he heern Davy a quorl'n with his bruthurs 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.'

“`Whose 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 trowsur, and have tother ones wash'd. And when
I kum I hear ole Goliawh 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 some
body for to fite the jiunt, I'll fit um for um.'

“`I mighty feerd, 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
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 lam.
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 sheetirun, and to take his sword,
but Davy didn't like um, but said he'd trust to his sling.

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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 knock 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 jawd, and fit it all out: and so
ole Goliawh when he see 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!—'tink 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!—dont be afeerd!—dont go for to run away!—
I'll ketch you and lick you—”

“You d—n leetul raskul—I'll kuss you by all our gods—
I'll cut out your sassy tung[30]—I'll break your blackguard
jaw,—I'll rip you up and give um to the dogs and crows—”

“Dont kuss 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—”

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“You nasty leetul 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 countermarches
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 phrenzy 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 litting the giant; and then in person of Goliath
he droped 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 phrenzy.

Scarcely had Mr. Ham fallen at his post, when a venerable
old warrior, with matchless intrepidity, stepped into
the vacated spot; and without a sign of fear carried on the
contest against the Arch Fiend, whose great ally had been
so recently overthrown—i. e. Goliath, (not Mr. Ham.) Yet
excited, as evidently was this veteran, he still could not
forego his usual introduction stating how old he was;

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where he was born; where he obtained religion; how long
he had been a preacher; how many miles he had travelled
in a year; and when he buried his wife:—all of which
edifying truths were received with the usual applauses of
a devout and enlightened assembly. But this introduction
over; (which did not occupy more than fifteen or twenty
minutes,) he began his attack in fine style, waxing louder
and louder as he proceeded, till he exceeded all the old
gentlemen to “holler” I ever heard, and indeed old ladies
either.

EXTRACT FROM HIS DISCOURSE.

“— — — Yes, sinners! you'll all have to fall
and be knock'd down some time or nuther, like the great
giant we've heern tell on, when the Lord's sarvints come
and fight agin you! Oho! sinner! sinner—oh!—I hope
you may be knock'd down to night—now!—this moment—
and afore you die and go to judgment! Yes! oho! yes!
oh!—I say judgment—for it's appinted once to die and then
the judgment—oho! oh! And what a time ther'll be then!
You'll see, all these here trees—and them 'are stars, and
yonder silver moon a fire!—and all the alliments a meltin
and runnin down with fervent heat-ah!”—(I have elsewhere
stated that the unlearned preachers out there (?) are by the
vulgar—[not the poor]— but the vulgar, supposed to be
more favoured in preaching than man-made preachers; and
that the sign of an unlearned preacher's inspiration being
in full blast is his inhalations, which puts an ah! to the
end of sentences, members, words, and even exclamations,
till his breath is all gone, and no more can be sucked in)—
“Oho! hoah! fervent heat-ah!—and the triumpit a soundinah!—
and the dead arisin-ah!—and all on us a flyin-ah!—to
be judged-ah!—Oohoah! sinner—sinner—sinner-ah! And
what do I see away tharah!—down the Massissipp-ah!—
thar's a man jist done a killin-ah!—another-ah!—and up he

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goes with his bloody dagger-ah! And what's that I see to
the East-ah! where proud folks live clothed in purple ah!
and fine linen-ah!—I see 'em round a table a drinkin a
decoction of Indian herb-ah!—and up they go with cups in
thar hands-ah! and see—ohoah!—see! in yonder doggery
some a dancin-ah! and a fiddlin-ah!—and up they
go-ah! with cards ah! and fiddle-ah!” &c. &c.

Here the tempest around drowned the voice of the old
hero: although, from the frantic violence of his gestures,
the frightful distortion of his features, and the Pythonic
foam of his mouth, he was plainly blazing away at the
enemy. The uproar, however, so far subsided as to allow
my hearing his closing exhortation, which was this:

“—Yes I say—fall down—fall down all of you, on
your knees!—shout!—cry aloud!—spare not!—stamp
with the fool!—smite with the hand!—down! down!—
that's it!—down brethren!—down preachers!—down sisters!—
pray away!—take it by storm!—fire away! fire
away! not one at a time! not two together-ah!—a single
shot the devil will dodge-ah!—give it to him all at once—
fire a whole pla'oon!—at him!!”

And then such platoon firing as followed! If Satan
stood that, he can stand much more than the worthy folks
thought he could. And, indeed, the effect was wonderful!—
more than forty thoughtless sinners that came for fun,
and twice as many backsliders were instantly knocked
over!—and there all lay, some with violent jerkings and
writhings of body, and some uttering the most piercing
and dismaying shrieks and groans! The fact is, I was
nearly knocked down myself—

“You?—Mr. Carlton!!”

Yes,—indeed—but not by the hail of spiritual shot falling
so thick around me: it was by a sudden rush towards
my station, where I stood mounted on a stump. And this
rush was occasioned by a wish to see a stout fellow

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lying on the straw in the pen, a little to my left, groaning
and praying, and yet kicking and pummelling away as if
scuffling with a sturdy antagonist. Near him were several
men and women at prayer, and one or more whispering
into his ear; while on a small stump above, stood a person
superintending the contest, and so as to ensure victory to the
right party. Now the prostrate man, who like a spirited
tom-cat seemed to fight best on his back, was no other than
our celebrated New Purchase bully—Rowdy Bill! And
this being reported through the congregation, the rush had
taken place by which I was so nearly overturned. I contrived,
however, to regain my stand shared indeed, now,
with several others, we hugging one another and standing
on tip-toes and our necks elongated as possible; and thus
we managed to have a pretty fair view of matters.

About this time the Superintendent in a very loud voice
cried out,—“Let him alone, brothers! let him alone sisters!—
keep on praying!—its a hard fight—the devil's got a
tight grip yet! He don't want to lose poor Bill—but he'll
let go soon—Bill's gittin the better on him fast!—Pray
away!”

Rowdy Bill, be it known, was famous as a gouger, and
so expert was he in his antioptical vocation, that in a few
moments he usually bored out an antagonist's eyes, or made
him cry peccavi. Indeed, could he, on the present occasion,
have laid hold of his unseen foe's head, (spiritually
we mean,) he would (figuratively of course) soon have
caused him to ease off or let go entirely his metaphorical
grip. So, however, thought one friend in the assembly—
Bill's wife. For Bill was a man after her own heart; and
she often said that “with fair play she sentimentally allowed
her Bill could lick are a man in the 'varsal world,
and his weight in wild cats to boot.” Hence, the kind
hearted creature, hearing that Bill was actually fighting
with the devil, had pressed in from the outskirts to see fair

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play; but now hearing Bill was in reality down, and apparently
undermost, and above all, the words of the superintendent,
declaring that the fiend had a tight grip of the poor
fellow, her excitement would no longer be controlled; and,
collecting her vocal energies, she screamed out her common
exhortation to Bill, and which, when heeded, had
heretofore secured him immediate victories—“Gouge him,
Billy!—gouge him, Billy!—gouge him!”

This spirited exclamation was instantly shouted by Bill's
cronies and partisans—mischievously, maybe, for we have
no right to judge of men's motives, in meetings:—but a
few, (friends doubtless of the old fellow,) cried out in a
very irreverent tone—“Bite him! devil—bite him! Upon
which, the faithful wife, in a tone of voice that beggars description,
reiterated her—“Gouge him,” &c.—in which
she was again joined by her husband's allies, and that to
the alarm of his invisible foe; for Bill now rose to his
knees, and on uttering some mystic jargon symptomatic of
conversation, he was said to have “got religion;”—and
then all his new friends and spiritual guides united in fresh
prayers and shouts of thanksgiving.

It was now very late at night; and joining a few other
citizens of Woodville, we were soon in our saddles and
buried in the darkness of the forest. For a long time,
however, the uproar of the spiritual elements at the camp
continued at intervals to swell and diminish on the hearing;
and, often came a yell that rose far above the united din of
other screams and outcries. Nay, at the distance of
nearly two miles, could be distinguished a remarkable and
sonorous oh!—like the faintly heard explosion of a mighty
elocutional class practising under a master. And yet
my comrades, who had heard this peculiar cry more than
once, all declared that this wonderful oh-ing was performed
by the separate voice of our townsman, Eolus Letherlung,
Esq.!

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At length the din died sullenly away, like the indistinct
mutter of a retiring hurricane! But for that night and the
next day, the scenes and cries of the camp were vivid before
my eyes and ringing in my ears; and more than once,
in night dreams, appeared Rowdy Bill dressed in his wife's
cap and short-gown, and standing on the breast of Goliath;
while near stood a dwarf negro with two heads, flourishing
in his hand a corn-hoe, and crying from both his mouths—
“Gouge him! Billy, gouge him!”

Next day, (as I was told by an eye-witness and in triumph.)
the new converts, amounting to more than two hundred!!
were all paraded and marched around the campgrounds,
under the appellation of “virgins following the
Lamb!”—after which, they were enrolled and acknowledged
as “trophies snatched from Satan!” It being impossible,
therefore, to gainsay facis, I was constrained, spite of
my latent hostility to certain Big Meetings, to acknowledge
to my friend, who insisted on my immediate and honest
answer, to acknowledge that:—

A camp-meeting was, all things considered, the very
best contrivance and means for making the largest number
of converts in the shortest possible time; and also for enlarging
most speedily the bounds of a Church Visible and
Militant.

eaf111v2.n26

[26] Candour obliges me to say these “allowings” and predictions
were true—the devil did seem to be out there in pretty great force. I
cannot say so positively about his defeats.

p111-496 CHAPTER XLIX.

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Our present chapter treats of love and matrimony.

Doubtless it has occurred to the reader, that John Glenville
is yet a bachelor and ought to be looking out for a
wife. Now, although John was never overhead and ears
in love, he yet was always falling into it—knee deep at
least; but as yet, he had never found anybody for help-meet,
though several were disposed to be help-mates.

My friend had, indeed, often gone “a gallin” among our
log-cabin beauties; and sometimes received answers so
serious to his sportive questions as to make his backing out
very difficult and ungraceful. For instance, he once accompanied
Peggy home from a night meeting; and on
reaching the cabin she paused a moment by the wood pile,
when John playfully said: