HE years of 1832 and 1833 formed a period of readjustment for Walter Scott. He was laboring to regain his health, getting his family resettled, learning how to write and edit a magazine, and he was looking for the kind of preaching and teaching that would be consistent with his limited vitality. There were evangelistic tours in these years, but for a man of Scott's insatiable thirst for converts they were so few as to merit little notice.

      Most of these two years was spent in Cincinnati. During the first six months he was wholly occupied there. Home, printing office, and the Sycamore Street church were all there. Then, in the summer of 1832, he created a church at Carthage out of his own converts and began dividing his time; the weekdays were given to the city, his Sundays to the village. By October, 1833, the demands of the village had become such that he moved his other interests there. So was born the "Carthage Editor" whose fame rivaled that of the "Mahoning Evangelist."

      When Scott and his family moved there, Cincinnati was a flourishing city of 4,016 buildings,¹ doubling once every nine years. It boasted a population of 25,000, which made it larger than Pittsburgh and unrivaled by any city in the West.² Immigrants were flocking in, and the city was to become predominantly German and Irish, as its industries were to be dominated by distilleries and breweries. In the thousand-mile reach of the Ohio from Pittsburgh to the Mississippi River, it occupied a position almost exactly [127] midway, and its river wharves were the busiest in America. The Miami Canal connected her with Toledo, and roads radiated in all directions.

      James Challen returned to this growing city upon Walter Scott's insistence and here remained, until 1834. He was one of the Disciples' strongest preachers and writers and was to have long and constructive pastorates in Philadelphia, Davenport, and Lexington. He proved to be a friend whose equilibrium and steadying influence were sources of calm strength to Walter. Taking his new friend in charge, he began to watch over him like a guardian. As late as October 16, 1832, he wrote to the Millennial Harbinger: "Brother Scott is still in bad health, and my labors are necessarily confined almost exclusively to the city. The Cholera is among us, and is raging with considerable violence."³

      From the nervous indigestion and fits of depression which preyed upon him in these years, Scott was never able completely to rid himself all the rest of his life. He was subject hours at a time to melancholia; these low moods would alternate with elevated spirits of the utmost buoyancy. Then he was "genial, and even mirthful; abounding in anecdotes and brilliant flashes of wit and repartee."⁴ At such times, when he entered a room, it was like letting in more sunshine. He was now thirty-six, and grappling with the problem of his own mental and physical health.

      James Challen, as he came gradually to know him, saw how complex he was:

      In some things he was a perfect child, and again there was a loftiness and grandeur about him that struck the beholder with awe. He had, with a high-strung nervous temperament, as much moral courage as any man I have [128] ever known; and, therefore, he often did what other men would not dare to do, and was rarely defeated or successfully baffled in his purposes. He had in him the spirit of the ancient prophets, and felt as if he had some great work to do in these latter times.⁵

      For all his sickness, Scott did the work of three healthy men. He edited his magazine, managed a printing office, answered a heavy correspondence, assisted Brother Challen with the Sycamore Street church, attended public meetings, made evangelistic forays into the surrounding country and across the river into Kentucky, superintended the religious instruction of his family, and gave private instruction to young ministers. His weakness might harass him, but it could not stop him.

      January found him rejoicing over the union of Disciples and Christians, consummated on the first day of the year at Lexington. A letter from Barton W. Stone exulted: "Our union is attended with happy consequences, and our meetings crowned with success. We long to see you. Our two Evangelists (Smith and Rogers) have started on their tour."⁶ There were now about 20,000 in the movement. His cause had become a fellowship.

      Scott's new magazine required a great deal of his time. Each issue called for about ten thousand words, and during the first year he wrote nearly the whole of twelve issues without help. Robert Richardson contributed four articles, and James Challen sent in a poem and an article; there was a page or so of correspondence in each number; but the rest had to come from the pen of the editor. [129]

      Since Scott regarded his editorial desk as a pulpit from which he could proclaim the gospel to an enlarged audience, the contents of the magazine were much like his preaching. While he gave passing notice to education and government, he dwelt chiefly on religious topics. He conducted extended "conversations" and "colloquies" on the ancient gospel, argued for a new translation of the Old Testament, set forth the various dispensations, expounded a Lockian philosophy of religion, and discoursed on the formation of character. All that he had to say centered in the "Golden Oracle."

      "Christ," he wrote, "is called the sun of righteousness, and no literal sentence perhaps is adequate to the idea of his glory which this metaphor throws into the mind. The sun is the great center of the system; the immense source of all light, life, heat, and vegetation; hence Jesus is all these in the spiritual world or in religion."⁷

      He was only extending the work to which he had given himself on the Reserve. And the phrase the "Ancient Gospel" appeared over and over in every issue. The five (or six) steps of salvation were stated and discussed continuously. The editor was like a jewel merchant holding a precious gem before his eyes and turning it so as to gaze at every facet.

      The subscription list of the Evangelist grew from month to month until, by the end of 1832, it included the following states: Virginia, New York, Indiana, Georgia, Ohio, Kentucky, Tennessee, Pennsylvania, Mississippi, Alabama, Louisiana. Too many of these subscribers, however, had availed themselves of the privilege of delayed payment, so that in the January, 1833, number, the editor had to remind them to pay up! [130]

      But $700.00 of last year is still due to me and though this is a small sum to them, and might be easily paid when seven hundred subscribers have to do it, yet it is a large sum to me and difficult to be borne by one individual. The establishment is in its infancy, and may, nay, I humbly hope has already been subservient to the cause which it has espoused; but it must be supported by its subscribers alone; will my readers please recollect this?⁸

      Scott's former pupil and convert, Robert Richardson, had been living and practicing medicine in Wellsburg, Virginia, during the past four years, having moved there following his baptism. Scott now prevailed upon him to move to Carthage, Ohio, where he could engage in practice and help him with the editing of the magazine. Richardson had written several essays for the Evangelist over the pen name of "Discipulus."⁹ The doctor had the patient exactitude and devotion to detail that Scott lacked. The Cincinnati editor was not a good proofreader; misspellings and inaccuracies crept past him. He needed just such a helper as the young physician.

      Richardson came and took up his dual responsibility, practicing medicine as a partner to a Dr. Wright in Carthage. In his own copy of the January Evangelist he made marginal corrections on the printed page, and noted at the bottom of the last page of the issue: "73 errors in this number!" The next issue, which is scrupulous in its spelling, is neat evidence that the doctor-editor was on the job!

      The town of Carthage was seven miles north of Cincinnati, on the Miami Canal. In 1832 its principal industries were the Mill Creek Distillery, with a capacity of 16,000 gallons of grain alcohol per day, and [131] a flour mill, with a capacity of forty-five barrels per day. These were located on either wing of the settlement, within which there were two inns, the Belser House and Van Kirk Tavern. There was no church of any denomination, and the town was "wide open."

      In the summer of this year Walter Scott turned his guns on Carthage and opened siege. Winning over a thirteen-year-old girl, who had been studying the Bible with original insight, and a town "bad man" by the name of Parker, he was able to publish in January that a fine church had been constituted at Carthage and that there were forty members.¹⁰ By July this had grown to 104 members.¹¹ September 13-16 the Carthage pastor invited a whole company of evangelists--J. T. Johnson, Finnell, O'Kane, Mitchell, and others--and put the whole town under a barrage of preaching day and night. The result was thirty-three more church members and such a remarkable effect upon the town as a whole that "a village not long since distinguished for swearing, gambling, drunkenness, debate, fighting, and petty legal prosecutions, is now filled with the melody of praise, and abounds in good order, joy and thanksgivings to the Lord."¹² Over the next twelve years, with Walter Scott as minister, this church had a constant stream of additions. Meeting in a barn at the beginning, the congregation early in 1833 erected its own brick building, on the very same site where the second building of that church now stands.

      Until October, 1833, the Evangelist was printed in Cincinnati, and the Scotts continued to live in the city. By this time the center of gravity in Scott's interests had moved, and many factors began to argue [132] for a change of residence and the transfer of the printing establishment to Carthage. The church, with its growing demand for his time, was there. His assistant editor was there; travel back and forth was expensive and wasteful in time for both of them. The decision was made, and the October Evangelist notified its readers:

      The Evangelist Printing Office has been removed from Cincinnati to Carthage, a small village, seven miles along the Canal, where all kinds of Book, Newspaper, and Job printing, are executed in the best style, on the cheapest possible terms.

      The Carthage church was unusual for its order as well as for its evangelistic spirit. A Sunday school was organized at the very beginning. Elders and deacons were elected, with well-defined duties recorded in the church minutes. An order of service was adopted and adhered to. The church records of November, 1834, declaring that "the Church of God at Carthage is desirous to obey the Holy Commandments of the Apostles and to secure to themselves good government, Godly edification and a well-regulated system of finance," show that elders were elected to take charge of the government, edification, and discipline. Six elders were to preside over all public meetings and to keep them in order and on schedule. Four deacons were elected to collect and take charge of all contributions and to superintend the church building and all its physical needs.

      This same meeting adopted an order of service. This emphasis on order in the Carthage church was, of course, the direct result of Scott philosophy of the church: [133]

      Churches are in general very deficient in order. The great points of teaching, discipline, good government, and finance are at a very low ebb among us.

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      Why are there no funds? Is it because our members are all poor? . . . The proper answer to this question may be found in the fact that a vast proportion of our assemblies are wholly without an adequate scheme of finance.¹³

      Again, writing on the subject of ministerial support in his magazine, he says:

      To imagine that a divine institution, like Christianity, will run the length and breadth of the globe unaided by men appointed to proclaim it, and that men competent to proclaim it will run the length and breadth of the globe unbefriended and unsupported by those who are bound to see it spread, are propositions equally absurd. . . . We argue therefore that if the brethren would enjoy the labors of an efficient ministry, they must support them; and it is most obvious that the necessities of the world can be met only by an efficient ministry.¹⁴

      Because of its healthy growth, its reverent order, and its radiating influence in the community, to say nothing of its distinguished teacher, the Carthage church became known far and wide.

      Although Scott "stayed at home," his life was far from localized. A stream of visitors came and went at all hours. He later spoke of them as "thousands." Among them were Barton W. Stone, L. L. Pinkerton, Samuel Rogers, L. H. Jameson, and Joseph Bryant. His desk groaned under unanswered letters. He participated in occasional meetings. A new college named him among its incorporators.¹⁵ The Reserve [134] invited him to return. The Carthage church had attracted attention, and besides all this an editor is wherever his magazine is read, even when he is at home.

      At the end of 1833 Scott broke away. He had decided to visit Alexander Campbell in Bethany. He and Joseph Bryant went down to the dock on December 31, 1833, and boarded the "Planter," "a steamer of the lowest rate in point of size, but possessing the best accommodations for deck and cabin passengers." He had now largely recovered his physical health, and this was his first long visit away from home.

      After a momentary hesitation, I entered my name for Wellsburg, berth No. 12. My indecision rose from a sudden but transient recollection of my late long debility, during which I had contracted the most invincible love of home. Brother Bryant rallied me a little, and I yielded to what I was ashamed to resist.¹⁶

      There he found himself one of five ministers on board and was soon involved in a religious discussion, which, much to the delight of all the passengers, lasted four days and five hundred miles. The clergymen debated and spoke their way clear up the Ohio River to Wellsburg. When he took leave of these companions to go over the hills to Bethany, he was deep in the mood of vacation.

      Meanwhile, the sense of being alone, which had so depressed him in 1822, before he met Campbell, had given way entirely to the sense of fellowship with a growing brotherhood. In the January issue of the Evangelist, 1833, he wrote: [135]

      The Gospel is now proclaimed on the seaboard and beyond the Mississippi, in Texas and beyond the Lakes. It has crossed the Alleghenies, it has gone to the Rocky Mountains. It is in Mexico and Canada. It has traversed the Atlantic. It was more than heaven could hold, and must fill the world. All the ends of the earth shall see the salvation of God!¹⁷ [136]

[WSVGO 127-136]