OT long after his removal to Cincinnati, Mr. Scott made another change to Carthage, about eight miles north of the city, where he remained for about thirteen years. He visited this village several times before his removal, and the success which attended his labors, doubtless, had much to do with making it his home. Although pleasantly situated, there was little about Carthage to make it agreeable as a residence; all the vices of the country village of forty or fifty years ago flourished there; drunkenness, profanity, idleness, and neglect of the public and private duties of religion were common, and the store and the groggery were the chief places of resort. Fishing and hunting were common on Sunday, as well as coarse jesting and unseemly merriment among those within the tavern or under the trees that shaded its door. The single redeeming feature was a Sunday-school, with which was connected an incident of interest that took place on Scott's first visit.

      In one of the classes was a bright girl of about thirteen years of age, who, with others, had to find an answer to the question "What shall I do to be saved?" In searching the Bible she felt upon the case of the Jews on Pentecost, why, when pricked to the heart by the preaching of the gospel by Peter, cried [232] out, "Men and brethren what shall we do?" The answer given by the apostle to this inquiry seemed to this child the proper reply to the question to be answered at the Sunday-school. The day came, the class was questioned, but none save she had any answer ready, and she, with a feeling of childish triumph, repeated the answer of the apostle: "Repent, and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ, for the remission of sins, and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost." Instead of a smile and words of approval from her teacher, she saw, from her cold manner and averted look, that in some way she had failed to give a satisfactory answer, and in her disappointment she covered her face with her hands and wept. Soon the lesson was over, and the superintendent began to ask questions, and, smiling through her tears, she thought she yet might be able to give the answer, and find the approval from him which she had, for some reason, failed to gain from her own teacher; and, sure enough, from his lips came the question, "What must a man do to be saved?" All were silent, and the time for her triumph had come; she rose and read the words of Scripture again, and again was doomed to disappointment; the superintendent gave a cold, unsympathizing look and turned away; and again the poor child wept, and wondered why her answer was not approved.

      Just after this occurrence, Elder Scott preached in the village school-house, and the little Sunday-school scholar was among his hearers; to her surprise and delight he took for his text the very passage she had read in Sunday-school, and which had been so coldly received, and proposed to show from it how the sinner [233] must be saved. As he proceeded, she found that the strange preacher regarded the passage as she did, and was highly elated, and yet she could not but wonder why the passage should have produced such cold and averted looks, as it had done at the Sunday-school, when there it was in the Bible, and the preacher said that it meant what it said. At the close of the discourse he announced that he would return and preach again in four weeks; he did so, but he preached this time, not in the school-house, but in a barn; the audience in the barn was greater than it had been in the school-house, and among his hearers, more interested than ever, was the little Sunday-school girl. The truth, as it came from his lips, was so sweet and simple, and, withal, so much like her Bible, that when he urged his hearers to follow its teachings implicitly, she timidly arose, and, approaching the preacher, expressed her wish to be baptized. He asked her several questions which were answered with an intelligence beyond her years, and, feeling that she understood her duty, promised to baptize her at the close of the meeting. The meek spirit of obedience manifested by the child aroused him to press the claims of the gospel upon those of riper years, and six men arose and followed the example set by the sweet child, and with her were baptized on confession of their faith in the Lord Jesus.

      These proved to be the first fruits of a great harvest that was soon gathered; many of the most influential people in the vicinity heard and obeyed the glad gospel; the reformation spread through the whole community, and Carthage soon became as famous for [234] temperance, zeal, and piety, as it had formerly been for their opposites.

      Among the converts was one who had long held in the village an unenviable notoriety--a poor fellow, who was regarded as the most hopeless of an exceedingly irreligious and immoral population. He was a clever, dissipated good-for-nothing; the chief actor in every scene of fun, frolic, or mischief; so much so, that he has been thought worthy of a sketch at the hands of a fine word-painter, who pictures him to his readers as follows, under the name of Parker, and in connection with it gives a sketch of Elder Scott, then in his prime, under the name of Philip.

      "If there was a cock-fight or a man-fight on the tapis, Parker was sure to be there, and took always an active part; and in the absence of one of the pugilists of the genus homo, he was ready to try his hand. And at a foot-race, or a donkey-race, or a quarter-nag, he was regarded as one of the most important personages in the village. And in the frequent routs and balls, which, in the winter season, were deemed indispensable to the rising generation, Parker was the chief actor. Or if a hen-roost was to be disturbed, or an old gobbler was to be uncrowned, or any other petty mischief to be done, he might be fully depended on. No mad-cap leader, even of a coterie of college lads, by acclamation, was ever admitted to this honor with readier will than Parker, and he was particularly proud ot his 'bad eminence.' He could take a hand at any thing; he was good at a joke, could tell as long yarns as any of his neighbors, could set the 'table in a roar,' and could drink as much stone-fence as any other lover of this kind of geology. He was a good-natured, waggish, witty, ignorant, knowing, rampant fellow, the terror of all the good women and little [235] children of the neighborhood, and the scape-goat of all the sins of the villagers. But Parker was not without his good points and generous impulses. If any of his companions were in distress he was ready to help him; or sick, to nurse him; or dead, to lay him out, and make arrangements for the funeral; and if he was not the chief mourner, he, at least, was the grave-digger.

      "It is worthy of remark that, even among the worst specimens of humanity there are some good points; none are sunk so low but that they might sink lower--none so depraved but that they might receive a still darker hue. The seeds of paradise still slumber in the clods, and the sunshine and the moisture will sometimes start them into a new life. It was thus with Parker; bad as he was he might have been worse.

      "It was announced in the village in which Parker lived, that a strange preacher was soon to be there, and would hold a series of meetings, such as are common in the West, and which have resulted often in so much good in dissipating the worldliness which surrounds the people, and diffusing a purer, healthier atmosphere favorable to their spiritual improvement and growth. The meeting was held in an old brick school-house, dirty and dark; and when the interest increased, and the congregation became too large to be accommodated, it was moved to a barn fragrant with the odor of the new-mown hay.

      "The preacher was a Scotchman, in the prime of life, about five feet seven inches high, with a thin face, high cheek bones, a large, projecting nose, and finely chiseled upper lip, and an eye of the eagle--sleepy when at rest, but filled with the beams of the sun when awakened. His hair was black as the wing of the raven, and as glossy, which hung rather carelessly upon his ample brow, revealing to the eye a forehead of singular beauty, on which wit and benevolence, reason and invention, sat enthroned. In all respects Philip, for that is the name we choose to call him, [236] was a great man. The writer has often heard him, and he can say that, at times, for the originality of his conceptions, the richness of his language, the variety of his thoughts, the sublimity of his imagery, and the lofty reach of his oratory, he has seldom or ever known him surpassed. He was not always equal to himself, but if he failed at any time--and who does not--he was consoled with the thought that the fire still burned deep in the Ætna of his mind, even though the smoke was not seen, or the flames did not shoot up portentously to the darkened heavens, or the lava pour from his lips. We hope that the reader will not think this a mere fancy sketch. It is drawn from life, though not to the life; for we regret that the preacher had not some one better able to draw out more fully the lineaments of his character. He was a speaker combining much of the genius of Edward Irving, with the Titan tread of Robert Hall, and the graphic powers of Sir Walter Scott; and sometimes, at the close of an address, he would give a burst of oratory, scattering gems as if the air was filled with the fragments of a globe of crystals, or as if the sun had looked out from a cloud, still shedding its rain-drops upon the moistened earth; he would then lift his audience into a sweet surprise, captivating every sense by the mellowness of his voice, the gentle grace of his motions, the scintillations of his wit, and the grandeur of his imagery.

      "But we will not forget Parker, for the time had come when this uproarious and fun-loving hero of my story was about to feel the keen arrows of conviction, and the subduing influence of the gospel of Christ, at the meeting of which we have spoken. The preacher was almost wholly unknown to the community; a few had seen him, perhaps heard him. He had gathered laurels, however, on other fields, and he was now about to try his powers upon the little village of Carthage, but he knew that what had conquered such large masses to the truth elsewhere would not [237] fail, by the help of the Lord, to do something here, and he commenced his labors.

      "We know not what impressions his first efforts had upon the population, or what were the promises of success, but the results were glorious. The village was converted, and the gospel sounded abroad in the neighborhood; and the fruit of his labors may be seen to this day. The whole population was leavened with the doctrine of eternal life, and the beautiful chapel, which still stands in the village, and the willing worshipers which crowd its gates, attest the wonders which he wrought, and the strength of the principles he advocated. Parker was enrolled among the saved. What induced him to attend the meeting we know not; perhaps mere curiosity, the novelty of the occasion, the reputed eloquence of the preacher, the love of excitement, or the number of converts which were being made. He took his seat far back in the crowded room; he listened as he had never done before; the recollections of his past misspent life came up before him; his conscience was quickened and enlightened; the truth penetrated like a sword into the depths of his heart; he saw his lost, he felt his undone condition, and welcomed the means of his recovery.

      "The very first discourse stripped him of his armor, and left him shivering as a guilty culprit. He was ready to yield at once, but prudence, or, perhaps, shame forbade that he should publicly acknowledge it. But there was seen at home that night, at the early approach to his door, and the sober cast of his countenance, that some strange influences were at work upon him; and his wife, though she discovered the change, and probably knew the cause, and inwardly delighted in it, did not seem to notice it. The next morning Parker was up betimes, and busied himself about the house, and the garden, and wood-pile. He was particularly kind and gracious in his whole demeanor; and it was seen, with heartfelt satisfaction, that he did not visit [238] that morning the tap-room to get his accustomed dram--a thing unknown in the memory of the family. He did not associate during the day with his old companions, nor visit his favorite haunts, but was thoughtful, and serious, and taciturn. Unfortunately for him, he could not read, or he might have spent the day less tediously. His thoughts were busy until night with the new things he had heard; and the hidden principles of the gospel were struggling with the perverted affections of his soul, and achieving a victory over his wicked habits.

      "Night came; again might you have seen the villagers, well-clad, pouring out from their houses--the rich and the poor--to the place of meeting. And from the country carriages and wagons, full to repletion, were gathering together, as at some great festival. Parker was in the crowd, and took his seat again at the far end of the house, and heard the discourse with marked attention, and, at the close of the sermon, he made his way through the dense mass, and stood before the preacher, who looked upon him with surprise and astonishment. No one was prepared for such an event, and as he passed through the congregation they gave way with singular promptitude to the 'publican and sinner.' If I recollect right, there were only two of the brethren willing to receive him, but the prejudices of the congregation were allayed by the cordiality with which he was received by them, and he was soon admitted among the converts, and proved to be an active, zealous, and faithful member.

      "Many are the anecdotes told of him after his conversion, some of which are quite characteristic. He used to seek out his old companions in folly and crime, and pursue them to their miserable haunts, and urge them to reform, and become men. 'See,' said he, 'what Christianity has done for me; I was as great a sinner as any of you; a drunkard, a swearer, a gambler; poor, miserable, and wretched; but now I am redeemed from my former ways [239] and have become a man. I have learned to read'--his wife taught him--'I have plenty of work, and can feed and clothe my family decently, and have not only a good conscience and a blessed hope, but the best of society and the best of cheer. Try the value of the gospel. It is good for every thing--having promise of the life that now is, and also of that which is to come.' And his labor in this new field was not in vain. Once, after his conversion, he went out to the harvest-field--for he was a famous worker--and his old friends, who were waiting for his apostasy, and anxious for it, had supplied themselves with the accustomed quantity of the 'fire-water;' seeing Parker approaching, with a large jug swinging on his arm, they began to wink and chuckle among themselves, supposing that the temptation of the harvest-field on a hot day would be too strong for his new temperance habits. When he came nigh them, they hailed his approach, and each eyed with special pleasure his jug, and asked to share at once its contents, supposing it filled with the choicest old Monongahela. 'I never have refused the call,' said Parker; 'it is at your service; come,' said he, 'and drink; but you must take it as I do, unmixed,' and by the word of mouth--'drink, gentlemen.' The first who took hold of the jug drank a large draught, but soon turned away from it as a 'guilty thing.' It was buttermilk!"

      The cases just mentioned serve to show the versatility of Elder Scott's talent in thus bringing the gospel to the comprehension of a little child, and making its power to be felt by poor ignorant Parker, enslaved by his appetites and steeped in sin; and, oh! how tenderly he cared for them, and bore them up before the throne in earnest prayer; nor did they forget him and the lessons he taught. Parker was a faithful Christian man when last heard from, and the [240] little girl, now an aged Christian matron, after the lapse of nearly half a century, speaks tenderly of him who so lovingly and earnestly pointed her to the Lamb of God.

      As intimated in the extract quoted, a large and prosperous church was established, the best families in the community were reached, and many have gone out from Carthage to bless other localities in the distant West. After the meeting above mentioned, the church, though happy and peaceful, did not grow as rapidly as Elder Scott desired; he had been accustomed for some years before to preach at a great many places in the course of a year, and scarcely a week passed without some being brought to Christ through his labors; and though he was doing a good work in teaching the Disciples who had been gathered in Carthage, he felt the need of the stimulus of success to which he had been so long accustomed. In later life, he learned that it was as great a work to develop a true Christian life in the converts, as to persuade them to enter upon the Christian profession; but at that period of his history frequent conversions were necessary to his usefulness. To arouse the public mind, and secure the success so much desired, it was resolved, after a free consultation with the church, to have a meeting to continue for several days in succession, to which the ablest ministers among the Disciples were to be invited. L. H. Jameson, who was present, gives the following account of the meeting:

      "It was appointed to take place in September. It was published in the 'Evangelist,' and when the time came, [241] there met John T. Johnson and Benjamin Finnell, from Kentucky, John O'Kane and L. H. Jameson, from Indiana, B. U. Watkins, and several others, from Ohio, whose names are not remembered now. Preaching was held in the grove during the day, and in the big school-house at night. Meetings were held three times a day. The preaching was by Johnson and O'Kane, the exhortations and singing by the young men and church. Bro. Scott presided over the movement, but took no very active part. The crowds were large, but the people seemed to be stupefied with surprise at what they saw and heard. There seemed to be no prospect for any fruit. Johnson preached at 10 A. M. in the grove; Ben. Finnell at 3 P. M., same place, but without results. The woods were literally full of people. On Lord's-day night, O'Kane preached in the school-house to a great crowd in-doors and out. Invitations were given, songs were sung, and earnest exhortations were offered, but not a soul moved. Bro. Scott then quietly arose and began to speak about as follows: 'My friends and dearly beloved, I have been living among you, and trying to preach the gospel to you, for sometime past. I have observed that, for some reason or other, my humble ministrations of the glorious gospel of Christ had ceased to be effective. I felt unable to divine the reason. It occurred to me, that it might be for the reason that you had some objections to the man. Under this impression, I determined to get out of the way; and so we appointed this meeting. We sent for faithful men to come and assist us. They have come, and they have preached and exhorted; they have sung and prayed, and entreated with tears, and all to no purpose. Not one of you has been moved. I have taken no part in the matter of preaching or exhorting myself, simply for the reason that I did not intend to be in the way. But now, after all that has been said and done, I have come to this conclusion, that your stupid indifference is not owing to any objections you have [242] to me, nor yet to the men who have been laboring before you, but solely to your own cruel hard-heartedness. I am perfectly astonished at you! I am confounded! I don't know what to make of you! What can I say to you after all that has been said by these dear brethren? Are you not ashamed of yourselves? to sit here from day to day, and from night to night, listening to such reasonings, to such appeals, without being moved. What can be the matter with you? Is it because you are destitute of common intelligence? Or is it because you are utterly careless with regard to your own eternal interests? Have you no fear of the High and Lofty One who inhabits eternity? Are you not afraid that Jehovah may turn upon you in his wrath, and say, as he did to Israel of old: "If I lift up my hand to heaven, and say I live forever! If I whet my glittering sword, and my hand take hold on judgment, I will render vengeance to mine enemies, and will reward them that hate me." And, OH, MY FRIENDS, who will be able to bear the lighting down of his arm? Are you disposed to defy the Omnipotent to arms? To engage in fearful and unequal war with the Eternal? To hurl yourselves against the bosses of Jehovah's buckler, and so to meet certain and eternal overthrow? He calls in mercy to-night; how can you dare to refuse? He stretches out his hand; how can you disregard him? Are you not afraid to trifle with his grace? Are you not afraid that he will break forth upon you like a lion, and rend you to pieces? Do you not fear lest he might come suddenly forth out of his place and cut you asunder, and appoint you your portion with hypocrites and unbelievers? Oh, my friends, for God's sake, and for your own soul's salvation sake, be persuaded, be constrained, by the love of Christ, to be reconciled to God. Is it so, oh, my neighbors and friends, that the grace of God, and the love of Christ, all the sacrifices of Divine mercy, in your behalf, are to be in vain? Can you consent to trample the [243] heart's blood of Jesus under foot? Can you deliberately determine to do despite to the Spirit of Grace? Can you consent to fill the very heavens with lamentations, rather than joy on your account? "As I live, saith the Lord, I delight not in the death of the sinner, but rather that he would turn and live!" Turn you! turn you! Oh, my friends, for why will you die? The Father calls; the Son calls; the Spirit and the Bride call. Say, my friends, will you come? Brethren, we will afford these poor sinners one more opportunity before we part. Surely some of them will be constrained to obey. Sing, brethren!'

      "The effect of this appeal was wonderful. The entire audience was astir. The first notes of the song were scarcely uttered before some of the best citizens of the place presented themselves to make the confession. The brethren, who thought, while the speech was being delivered, that Bro. Scott was ruining every thing, that the people would be excited to madness against him, were all taken aback. From being crouched down in their seats with shame and chagrin, while he was speaking, they were on their feet, in a moment, when they saw the unexpected result, singing with faces covered all over with smiles and moistened with tears.

      "It is now within a few months of forty years since that night meeting took place. Almost all that took part in it are in another world to-day. But I venture to affirm, that to the latest day of the life of the dead, as to the last hour of the life of the living who were there, Walter Scott's triumph was, and will be, remembered. Never before had we seen so vividly depicted the majesty, the fearfulness, the glory, the love, the mercy, and the grace of the great God, and our Savior, Jesus Christ. Never before had sin been portrayed in so loathsome a garb, and those who persisted in it made to appear so mean. The manner of the speaker was all that the utterances required. [244] Sometimes as gentle as an evening zephyr, in a moment a dark cloud, flaming with lightning, overshadowed the heavens, and the rushing storm was heard, leveling every thing in its course; then gentle, and tender, and inviting again. The speech was short, consequently, the transitions had to be quickly made. He did it, and he did it well."

      The meeting was protracted for several days, and some thirty or forty additions made to the church. Nor was the feeling thus aroused a transient one, prosperity attended the labors of Scott, and in about two years after his first visit, the church which he had planted numbered two hundred souls. [245]

[LEWS 232-245]