IT WAS March, 1836, when Robert and Rebekah Richardson moved into Alexander Campbell's "cozy wigwam" with two-year-old Nathaniel and ten-month-old Anne. Early that same month, almost unimaginably far to the west in this boundless American continent, Texas revolted against Mexico, and at San Antonio the Alamo defenders were wiped out to a man. The country, without knowing it, was on the verge of an economic depression. Whittier, the New England poet and abolitionist, was singing his songs; and Washington Irving was writing his fanciful tales of the Catskills. With the admission of Arkansas to the Union in this same year, the United States of America now numbered twenty-five.

      The "wigwam," which Alexander Campbell had built since 1834 and to which he had invited the Richardsons, was a three-room log cabin on the banks of Buffalo Creek, not more than two hundred yards east of Campbell's own residence. The cabin faced away from the creek, and each of its three rooms had a separate front entrance; while in the rear a small lean-to served as the folding room for the Millennial Harbinger.

      Flowing past their house, the Buffalo wound its way through wooded hills, twenty-six serpentine miles to Wellsburg, whereas a man on horseback traveled only seven to reach that river town. A turnpike road, stretching sixteen miles across the hills between Bethany and Wheeling, was the only highway. [75]

      The Campbell farm, including the present village of Bethany, lay within two giant coils of the creek, describing a letter "S" about one mile across. Near the bottom of the lower coil were located Campbell's home, his solitary study, his printing rooms, and the post office, as well as the Richardson home. The top coil described the town limits of Bethany village and the hill known as "Point Breeze." At this date, the village was no more than a suggestion of a town, with a few log cabins and two or three brick houses and a stone church. About midway in the swing of the Buffalo's letter "S" stood a flour mill, powered by water from a millrace in the stream, and below that, on the side toward the "mansion," nestled the miller's cabin. A road, like the vertical stroke of a dollar sign, ran from one end of the "S" to the other, from the "mansion" to Point Breeze. Lining this road on either side, Mr. Campbell had planted an unbroken avenue of locust trees, which soon imparted their name to the brief stretch of road, thereafter known as "Locust Lane." The natural beauty of Bethany was to the Richardsons a thing of wonder and of joy.

      If Dr. Richardson had come to Bethany expecting to abandon his role of physician, he had been mistaken. He was living too close to Wellsburg and to many of his former patients for that. Very soon he began to be called by his neighbors when members of their families became ill. In a short time he was giving himself both to his work as editor and as a family physician, serving a wide community. The doctor on horseback once again rode along the streams and over the hills of Brooke County. From this time on, however, like Luke the physician, who was [76] a companion and fellow laborer of the Apostle Paul, the Bethany doctor subordinated his medical profession to his religious activities.

      Alexander Campbell had needed an assistant for some time. His frequent and protracted absences from his editorial desk not only made his work as a publisher burdensome; it also prevented his close attention to a voluminous correspondence. Ample secretarial assistance he already had, and he did not need simply another amanuensis. He needed someone who could be trusted to work out details after the main outlines of a task had been sketched, someone who could relieve him of a large part of his correspondence by assuming direct responsibility for conducting it according to his own judgment. This called for teamwork of an unusual quality, and he counted on finding it in Robert Richardson.

      The Bethany editor began to rely upon that teamwork at once. He planned a tour of Northeastern America which would take him away from home and office during all the late spring, summer, and early fall of 1836. To the readers of his magazine he announced: "Meanwhile, the Press at home will be conducted by our much esteemed and beloved brother, Dr. Robert Richardson, whose abilities for this work may easily be inferred from his various communications in the volumes of the Harbinger." At the same time, he apologized for neglecting his correspondence and then pointed out that Dr. Richardson's coming to Bethany now enabled him to promise prompter attention: [77]

      All letters containing queries, difficulties, . . . or disciplinary matters, are, during my absence, to be attended to by him. From these letters, which require the attention of the public or of particular churches, he will write such essays as will engross these matters; or he will directly reply to them, according to the wisdom given to him.¹

      In becoming temporary manager of the famed Millennial Harbinger, the physician-editor shared the field with nine other reformation periodicals. Besides Walter Scott's Evangelist, there were Barton W. Stone's Christian Messenger, now published in Jacksonville, Illinois; Dr. John Thomas' Apostolic Advocate, of Richmond, Virginia; the Gospel Advocate, edited by J. T. Johnson and Alexander Hall, of Georgetown, Kentucky; Silas E. Shepherd's Primitive Christian, issued from Auburn, New York; the Christian Investigator, edited in Eastport, Maine, by William Hunter; the Christian Preacher, D. S. Burnet, Cincinnati, editor; the Christian Reformer, John R. Howard, of Paris, Tennessee, editor; and the Disciple, of Alabama, with Butler and Graham as editors.²

      There was much in some of these magazines that was controversial, even in bad taste, but nothing could stop the multiplying of journals, although none of them lived very long. Their presence, however, stirred up the reading public and served to keep the new editor on tiptoes.

      These "queries" and "difficulties" the junior editor now handled with deft skill. By way of illustration, we snatch a few fragments out of some of these replies:

      "By what law would you convince a man that he was a sinner, who had never heard of, nor read Old Testament or New?" asked a correspondent of the Cherokee Nation, [78] Louisiana. "Upon their own principles and by their own reasonings," Robert Richardson replied, adding, "See Paul's discourse at Athens and at Lystra."³

      Is it right to hold the Lord's Supper without a minister? asked someone from Pennsylvania. All Christians are ministers, the doctor replied.

      "The subject of Creeds is before me," another questioner began. "I do doubt the utility of them. Still some doubts prevail. . . . If we adopt no formula or creed but the New Testament, how shall we escape the Unitarian, Universalist, &c.? These sects profess to be governed by the Sacred Oracles." The real question here, said the junior editor in a lengthy reply, was whether the Scriptures are plain. "We say that if the Scriptures are subjected to the same established rules of interpretation according to which all other books and writings are understood, that the true meaning of them can be distinctly and definitely ascertained, and that the true meaning is the only meaning." But if we are to arrive at this true meaning, he went on to explain, we must come to the Bible to be taught by it rather than to make it serve us with texts that prove our dogmas and support our prejudices.⁴

      A strict "Independent," concerned over certain trends toward cooperation which he had witnessed in the growing reformation, wrote to protest that it was "a departure from the simplicity of the Christian institution to have cooperation meetings with Presidents and Secretaries, calling for the Messengers of churches, and laying off districts." Where, he wanted to know, was the scriptural warrant for these titles and organizations? In an extended reply, Dr. Richardson said, "A thing may be unscriptural, but it does [79] not therefore follow that it is anti-scriptural." It does not become so until it is imposed as a term of communion. The rule of church life is that we should do what is natural and simple. When we look at our religion, we see in it many necessary items not covered by Scripture, such as church buildings and orders of service. The same holds in the theological field. Christians entertain various opinions that are unscriptural which are not necessarily anti-scriptural, so long as they are simply held as private opinions. "If, however, they should attempt to impose them upon each other, or make them a term of communion, this would indeed be anti-scriptural, since we are commanded to receive one another without regard to differences of opinion."⁵

      Many other "queries" were answered through the pages of the Harbinger; not a few others were dealt with directly. The portion of Mr. Campbell's correspondence falling to "R. R." was voluminous.

      Editor Richardson in the first year of his new position also planned and wrote a series of seven articles on the providence of God. The providence of God, he said, is "the care of God in the preservation and government of the world." Both creation and miracles are excluded from the doctrine of providence. "The creating of Adam . . . displayed as much power as would be exhibited in raising a man from the dead--but not any more than is required to clothe the little germ contained in a grain of corn with a new body, twelve or fourteen feet high, with its tassel, its silk, its ears, and its shining leaves." The world is a perpetual, orderly miracle. "There is nothing more conducive to the happiness as well as the safety of the [80] Christian, than to encourage himself in a constant dependence upon God, 'who giveth us all things richly to enjoy."' In such an atmosphere, prayer is natural, more especially since God governs all, but gives special care to some, namely, those who put their trust in him. "May we not indeed say that an abiding sense of the superintending care of God is the test of a standing or falling Christian?"

      It was probably in this year that Dr. Richardson formed the habit of carrying a notebook with him everywhere he went. This little pocket-sized book became his paper memory. In it he entered everything he wanted to remember, from a grocery list to a sublime idea. These items were entered as they came to him, while he was writing, walking, reading, or traveling. He called the little leather-bound friend his "Common-place book." From time to time paragraphs from the "Common-place book" appeared in the Harbinger to delight or stimulate the readers. Here were telling words about clarity in a speaker: "People are wont to admire a speaker who uses high flowing words above their comprehension. They think the stream is deep because they cannot see the bottom, and do not consider that it is owing to its muddiness."⁶

      Although Alexander Campbell's printing establishment was the scene of a very considerable publishing business, even beyond the Bethany editor's own writings and magazines, Robert Richardson did not now concern himself with the mechanical side of it. Indeed, he never did learn anything about the techniques of printing. He was busy enough with its editorial side.

      He kept up a constant correspondence with the senior editor, following him on his 1836 tour through New York [81] and New England. On August 8 of this year, Campbell wrote Richardson a long letter from Boston, in which he dealt with many points about which the doctor had written him:⁷

      I have felt so exhausted that I dare not speak much in these cities, the air not being very favorable at this season to much energy. I prefer the village and hamlet.

      I opened and read in order the immense mail which had for three weeks been accumulating here, upon the perusal of which I was upon the whole, much refreshed. It was nearly three weeks since I heard anything from home.

      The Bethany sage then commended his junior editor for the excellent way in which he was conducting matters in the senior editor's absence. Mr. Campbell especially praised an essay on "Inspiration of the Scriptures" which the young coeditor had written for the Harbinger. "It is a cardinal thought that you have hit upon in that essay," he declared.

      Needless to say, this commendation of his article delighted young Richardson immensely. In it he had undertaken to show that one of the proofs of the inspiration of the Bible was that it dealt, not with the easily perverted function of allaying curiosity, but with that of giving practical guidance to man's moral and spiritual life on this earth. He was somewhat acid in his remarks about those who looked in Holy Writ for such things as the secret cause of. Satan's expulsion from heaven, observing that "such knowledge might be of use to devils, but it cannot profit man." Regarding the Bible as a disclosure of information about the supernatural realm was, in fact, the [82] pernicious cause of much of the strife then agitating the denominations. A healthier view was needed:

      And it is with me a consideration of no little weight as it regards the proof of the inspiration of the sacred volume, that it is the only professed revelation of spiritual and eternal things which is free from EVERY THING CALCULATED TO GRATIFY MERELY A VAIN CURIOSITY. . . . It gives us no useless history of devils or of angels--the secret counsels of eternity remain undisclosed--the peculiar condition of departed spirits is not detailed--nor are the inhabitants of the sun, moon, and stars described. It is intended for man during his abode upon this earth . . . It is designed to elevate and perfect the character of man . . . Nothing whatever is introduced which has no tendency to inspire confidence, fortitude, and hope, or lead to personal purity and practical benevolence.⁸

      Yes, reflected Robert, he was glad that his senior editor agreed with this "cardinal thought." He returned to his reading of the letter, in the closing paragraphs of which, Alexander Campbell again brought up the matter of his physical exhaustion, reluctantly admitting that he had finally reached the stage where he "must taper off." Informing Richardson that he would be back in Bethany the first week in September, he brought the letter to a close.

      The collaboration of Richardson and Campbell in these months of 1836 foreshadowed what was later fully sustained: they made a good team. Campbell was a great student of the arts and religion, a powerful religious statesman with real sagacity, while Robert Richardson was a keen student of science and religion, a quiet thinker, and a retiring but firm adviser. Both recognized that they [83] worked well together. One was the advocate, while the other was the counselor. Their cooperation was not a result of sameness; it was, rather, a harmony of difference. One was coldly intellectual; the other was warmly devotional, almost mystical. In fact, as one of Campbell's biographers said, "with his peculiar temperament he [Richardson] was always more nearly a mystic than any other of the pioneer Disciples."⁹

      One was quickly depressed by too many details; the other mastered them easily:

      It was just here where Dr. Richardson was of supreme value to him [Mr. Campbell]. While he and Mr. Campbell would often talk over in a general way the chief points to be considered, it was finally left to Dr. Richardson to work out the details and to make a decision in the case. His judgment was scarcely ever at fault, and his patience in pursuing a subject to the last analysis made his conclusions almost infallible with respect to everything he investigated. He never stopped with the surface of things, but made his examination thorough, so that nothing was left to be considered.¹⁰

      As this team worked on into the closing months of the year, the first seven years of the Millennial Harbinger were completed. This was exactly the number of years that the Christian Baptist had lived; so the Harbinger to this point was called the "first series." The senior editor informed his readers: "Encouraged . . . by an improvement in my health, and by the able assistance of our accomplished brother Dr. R. RICHARDSON, I have resolved to commence (the Lord willing) a new series of the Millennial Harbinger after the close of the present volume."¹¹ [84]

      It was just at this juncture, however, that Robert Richardson's eyes went on strike again. Bathing them failed to bring the expected relief. After a while it became plain that nothing would restore them but a complete rest from reading and writing. The doctor decided to turn his misfortune to advantage. While resting his eyes he would make an excursion into the field to promote the sale of the Millennial Harbinger and to lend such other aid to the cause of the reformation as opportunity might afford. On June 9, 1837, he left for Kentucky.¹² His faithful horse, Barney, provided transportation. In a trip extending to August 18, he visited Lancaster, Tarleton, Chillicothe, and Middletown in Ohio, and Georgetown, Maysville, Paris, Stanford, Lexington, and Mays Lick in Kentucky. As a student of nature, he especially enjoyed the fields, the woods, the farmhouses, the orchards, and the fine cattle which he saw in the valleys of the Muskingum and Scioto rivers.

      From Maysville, Kentucky, he dictated a long letter to Alexander Campbell regarding his excursion, in which he dropped a few items of a personal nature. In particular, he mentioned that the trouble with his eyes, which had induced him to leave his work at Bethany to make this trip, was somewhat relieved. Recovery, however, was far from complete, and it was still necessary to avail himself of "the aid of an amanuensis."

      From Nicholasville, Kentucky, he wrote Rebekah on July 26, 1837:

      I arrived at this place a week ago and having received no news from home since I started, proceeded to Lexington where I had the happiness to receive a letter from you and one also from [85] Bro. Campbell. I thank the Lord that he has preserved you all in peace and prosperity. I met Bro. Scott (for the first time since leaving home) in Lexington, and heard from him that they are doing well at Carthage. . . . I have delayed a few days longer in order to settle if possible the dissensions in the church here. A few years ago there was a church here of about 200 members apparently in a flourishing condition. For the last 3 years, however, they have been constantly quarreling, and the members meeting latterly have been only 10 or 15. There have been three parties and the whole neighborhood has been torn by their contentions so that they had become a byword and reproach. I have succeeded, after laboring for several days among them, in public and from house to house, in effecting an entire settlement of their difficulties and a perfect reconciliation between all parties.

He went on to say that at the meeting at which peace was finally restored, the whole congregation was in tears. The day on which the letter was being written had been set aside by the church for fasting and prayer. Richardson then brought the letter to a close with these paragraphs:

      I am now at the house of Father Simms who is a fine intelligent and hospitable disciple. I expect to set out tomorrow for Mortonsville and Versailles at the last of which places a three days' meeting commences on Friday. I have concluded not to go to Louisville at present as it will keep me too long from home. I have been very much afflicted with the dyspepsia for the last ten days.

      I have met with many devoted and intelligent disciples in Kentucky. I am much pleased with Sister Forbes of Stanford. She is the most intelligent female I have found in any of the churches here. Sister Dodd of Lancaster . . . is also a fine disciple.

      Tell Nathl. and Anne that I will come home again after a while. I long to see you all. The Lord bless you. [86]

      At Mays Lick, he had seen and heard the eloquent J. T. Johnson, former United States congressman, and now an untiring evangelist of the cause. "He conquers opposition by the force of his zeal," he reported, "or disarms it by the warmth of his benevolence. And so evident is his sincerity and philanthropy, that, while others by reasoning move the heads of the audience, he touches their hearts with his own heart."¹³

      He brought his visit to a close. Taking the steamer at Maysville, he docked at Wellsburg and rode on to Bethany, arriving home on August 18, 1837. He had been gone a little more than two months, but his eyes were not yet equal to editorial work. He was forced to support himself almost wholly by his medical practice, and he had to keep away from the books and papers which he loved so well.

      In the fall of this same year--October 12, 1837, to be exact--a third child was born. She was named Julia, for Richardson's mother. The little log cabin, with its three small rooms, was becoming crowded.

      Throughout the whole of the next year, he was able to read or write so little that he contributed only two or three articles to the Harbinger. At the end of 1838, Alexander Campbell wrote, somewhat sadly:

      Brother Richardson having, from the weakness of his eyes, been constrained to give up, in a great measure, both reading and writing, has, for the present volume, been unable to render me any essential assistance. Should his eyes continue to improve, he will furnish one or two articles per number for the next volume.¹⁴

      Unwilling to be idle in the work of reform, he bundled Rebekah off to her folks at Wheeling and left for an [87] Eastern tour in the early months of the year 1838. He was absent for several weeks, visiting such cities as Yorktown and Baltimore.

      Back in Bethany, working at his medical practice, and waiting for his eyes to return to normal, Robert Richardson's mind was busy with the future. Although he was regaining his sight, almost certainly the attack would be renewed when he least expected it. Besides, their present home would not long accommodate a growing family. It was imperative that mare adequate shelter and a more dependable income should be provided for his loved ones. Considering again his misfortunes, but not complaining, he studied them to see how they could be turned to advantage. [88]

[HTB 75-88]