HE names of Alexander Campbell and Walter Scott will ever be linked together, as workers, true and earnest, in the same noble cause; and one will as readily suggest the other, as the name of Luther calls up that of Melancthon, or Wesley's that of Whitefield. In no sense were they rivals, any more than Moses and Aaron, or Paul and Silas; but like them, with different gifts, devoting their lives to the accomplishment of the same glorious end. Campbell was always great and self-possessed; Scott subject to great depression, and, consequently, unequal in his public efforts; but at times he knew a rapture, which seemed almost inspiration, to which the former was a stranger. Campbell never fell below the expectation of his hearers, Scott frequently did; but there were times when he rose to a height of eloquence which the former never equaled. If Campbell at times reminded his hearers of Paul on Mars Hill, commanding the attention of the assembled wisdom of Athens; Scott, in his happiest moments, seemed more like Peter on the memorable Pentecost, with the cloven tongue of flame on his head, and the inspiration of the Spirit of Truth in his heart, while from heart-pierced sinners on every side rose the [338] agonizing cry, "Men and brethren, what shall we do?"

      Few men have convinced more skeptics of the folly of unbelief, than Alexander Campbell. Multitudes of men, confused by the discords and distractions of religious parties, have learned from his teaching that there is a more excellent way than that taught by the mere sect or party, and, being satisfied that he taught the way of God in truth, have walked in it; and yet, though he thus won many to Christ, some of whom have, in turn, been the happy instruments of bringing hundreds and thousands to the Savior, he never moved the hearts of the masses in his public addresses, as did Walter Scott. I have heard them both, frequently, before ordinary congregations, and assemblies of from three to ten thousand. I never listened to any man who could hold the attention of an audience longer and better than Alexander Campbell, and send away his hearers so delighted and instructed. Walter Scott, on ordinary, and even on great occasions, would often fail to fix the attention of his hearers; of this he was painfully conscious, and would express it by saying the smile of the Lord was not on him; but when he enjoyed that smile he seemed almost inspired, and his audience wholly entranced. Oh! how lovely he could make Christ appear; how dark and cruel man's ingratitude! Oh! how he could paint the vileness of sin, and the infinite compassion of him who died for our sins! How he could portray the woe of the lost, and the bliss of the saved; of heaven the glory and of hell the gloom; and with what earnest and affectionate [339] tenderness he would entreat and beseech lost sinners to be reconciled to God.

      Campbell addressed himself mainly to the understanding of his hearers, and was, confessedly, one of the ablest controversialists of his day; Scott did not forget that the mind must be enlightened, and the judgment convinced, and few men were clearer or more convincing in their exhibitions of truth; but when that was accomplished he drove right at the heart.

      Lest any one should think that I am writing in the spirit of a partisan, and using colors too warm and bright, I will introduce the testimony of one well qualified to judge with regard to Alexander Campbell as a preacher, and one, too, to whom even the suspicion of partiality does not attach. It is the testimony of the Rev. Heman Humphrey, D. D., once President of Amherst College, a learned and eloquent Presbyterian minister, who heard Mr. Campbell, not in his prime, but when some sixty-five winters had frosted his hair, and, in some degree, chilled the ardor by which he was in earlier life distinguished. His account strikingly corroborates what I have written, and gives the reader a good idea of the personal appearance and manner of the speaker. It is as follows:

      "At length Dr. Campbell made his way up through the crowd, and took his seat in the pulpit. He is somewhat above the middle stature, with broad shoulders, a little stooping, and, though stoutly built, rather spare and pale. He has a high, intellectual forehead, a keen, dark eye, somewhat shaded, and a well-covered head of gray hair, fast changing [340] into the full bloom of the almond tree. I think he must be rather over than under sixty-five years of age. He looks like a hard-working man, as he has been from his youth up. Very few could have endured so much mental and physical labor as has raised him to the commanding position which he occupies, and so long sustained him in it. His voice is not strong, evidently owing, in part at least, to the indifferent state of his health, but it is clear and finely modulated. His enunciation is distinct, and, as he uses no notes, his language is remarkably pure and select. In his delivery, he has not much action, and but little of that fervid outpouring which characterizes western and southern eloquence. There is nothing vociferous and impassioned in his manner. I think he is the most perfectly self-possessed, the most perfectly at ease in the pulpit, of any preacher I ever listened to, except, perhaps, the celebrated Dr. John Mason, of New York. No gentleman could be more free and unembarrassed in his own parlor. At the same time, there was not the least apparent want of deference for his audience.

      "In laying out his work, his statements are simple, clear, and concise; his topics are well and logically arranged, his reasoning calm and deliberate, but full of assurance. His appeals are not very earnest, nor indicative of deep feeling; but, nevertheless, winning and impressive in a high degree. There were many fine, and some truly eloquent passages in the two discourses which I heard, but they seemed to cost him no effort, and to betray no consciousness on his part that they were fine. In listening to him you feel that you are in the presence of a great man. He [341] speaks like a 'master of assemblies,' who has entire confidence in the mastery of his subject and his powers, and who expects to carry conviction to the minds of his hearers without any of those adventitious aids on which ordinary men find it necessary to rely. On both evenings, when I heard him, he held the great congregation, for an hour and a half, in that profound stillness which shows that his listeners are not aware of the lapse of time.

      "Dr. Campbell's first discourse was an exceedingly interesting eulogy, if I may so call it, upon the Bible, glancing rapidly at some of the internal proofs of its divine origin, dwelling, as much as his time would allow, upon its wonderful history, biography, and prophecies, and, following the sacred stream down through the several dispensations, or, as he expressed it, through 'the star-light and moon-light ages of the patriarchs, and of the Jewish commonwealth,' till the glorious Sun of Righteousness rose upon the world, and introduced the Christian era.

      "The text on the following evening was, 'Great is the mystery of Godliness,' etc. It was an able and orthodox discourse throughout. He dwelt chiefly upon the two clauses of the text, 'justified in the Spirit, received up into glory;' and I can not, in justice, refrain from acknowledging, that I never remember to have listened to, or to have read a more thrilling outburst of sacred eloquence, than when he came to the scene of the coronation of Christ, and quoted that sublime passage from the 24th Psalm, beginning, 'Lift up your heads, O ye gates, and be ye lifted up, ye everlasting doors, that the King of Glory may come in;' when he represented all the angels, [342] principalities, and powers of heaven, as coming together, to assist, as it were, in placing the crown upon the Redeemer's head."^a

      I know of no description of Walter Scott, of which I can avail myself, but, as I have not gone beyond Dr. Humphrey in my estimate of Mr. Campbell as a public speaker, that fact, I trust, will give assurance to the reader that I will endeavor to deal as faithfully with regard to his fellow-laborer. Indeed, the danger in the case of Scott is, that a faint and imperfect picture will be given; for to go beyond the reality when he was in one of his happiest moods is scarcely possible.

      He was about middle height, quite erect, well formed, easy and graceful in all his movements; his hair black and glossy, even to advanced age; he had piercing black eyes, which seemed at one time to burn, at another, to melt; his face was a remarkable one, the saddest, or gladdest, as melancholy or joy prevailed; his voice was one of the richest I ever heard, suited to the expression of every emotion of the soul--and when his subject took full possession of him he was an orator. I have heard Bascom, and Stockton, and many other gifted ministers, but none to compare with him; he stands alone.

      Once, on what might be termed an ordinary occasion, when there was no special interest, or expectation, he began to describe the gathering of the saints to their final glorious home; he was for a time sweet and tender, but all at once his form dilated, and his face glowed as if he had caught a glimpse of the King himself, coming in the clouds of heaven. I shall never forget his attitude, as, [343] with face upturned, and hand outstretched, he stood describing the scene he really seemed to behold. I have often wondered since, how any speaker could even venture on such an attitude as he assumed, and wondered that even he could maintain it so long--but the end was not yet; he cried out: "It reminds me of a scene in the mountains of my native north;" and then dashed off into a life-like description of the gathering of the clans in the Highlands of Scotland at the call of some renowned and beloved chief. On a mountain summit stood the chieftain, and as the wild notes of the bugle-horn, re-echoed from rock and ravine, and spread over the valley, the whole plain below was, in a moment, filled with his devoted followers, who, wrapped in their plaids, had been concealed in the blooming heather; every eye in that host was turned to the chief whose summons they had heard, and whose form stood out clearly defined on the mountain top, and upward to him in a living stream they went; he shouted a welcome as they came, and back from the thronging host came an answering shout, for they were not only his soldiers but his kinsmen; and when they reached the place where their leader stood they were happy and invincible.

      This was the figure used to illustrate the glad awakening of those who long had slept in the dust, and their rising to meet the Lord in the air. No description can do justice to his manner, or reproduce the scene which he described, but he made his hearers see it; for my own part, I distinctly heard the notes of that wild music, and clearly and [344] distinctly saw the tartans stream as up the warriors pressed to meet their beloved chief.

      The next discourse that I shall notice was under far different circumstances. The audience, in the instance just given, was composed of some two or three hundred persons, and the scene he described, which made such an impression upon me, was, doubtless, one that flashed upon his mind at the moment. But now he had before him as many thousands as he had hundreds in the former instance. The vast assembly met in a beautiful grove. Many of them had known the speaker for a score of years, and not a few of them had been brought into the fold of Christ under his ministry; others had come from a great distance, attracted by the fame of the preacher, and, I doubt not that he had made careful preparation to meet the expectation of the thousands who thronged to hear.

      His theme was the Transfiguration of Christ, which he described with such marvelous power, that his audience seemed to be witnesses of the wonderful scene which transpired upon the holy mount. He set forth the meeting of the Savior, Moses, and Elijah, as a glimpse vouchsafed to mortals of the heavenly state, or a living tableau of translated, resurrected, and transformed humanity, of which classes, translated Elijah, the resurrected Moses, and the transfigured Lord, were the respective types; and to this task he brought a power of description so new, forcible, and impressive, that many, while they listened with wonder, mingled with awe, felt like Peter, who, in the presence of the magnificent display, which the preacher made [345] to seem a reality, exclaimed, "Master, it is good for us to be here; Let us make three tabernacles, one for thee, one for Moses, and one for Elias," and numbers, I doubt not, felt themselves that day nearer heaven than ever they had been before. For an hour that grove seemed holy ground, solemn and joyful as the summit of Tabor, for there, with the wondering, glad disciples, we seemed to stand, and, like them, to see and hear the glorious immortals; we saw the Man of Sorrows with face brighter than Moses, when he descended from Sinai; we saw him lay away his seamless coat and put on garments of light and beauty, more glorious far than the robes of Aaron when he stood before the mercy-seat, while the pearly cloud overshadowed all, and from its snowy depths came the words of Jehovah, as he presented to the faith of the apostles and the world the glorified One in the impressive words, "This is my beloved Son, hear ye him."

      The reader will observe that I make no attempt to reproduce the sermon, that is impossible; but, to show the impression that it made on my own mind and that of others. It is not many sermons that people will remember for twenty years or more, but this was one of the few of which the impression is never effaced. No man there could remember the glowing words used to paint the glorious scene, but many, I know, will never forget the glowing picture while life: and memory endure.

      The last discourse that I shall notice, was delivered during the State meeting, held at Georgetown, Kentucky, in 1846. Quite a number of able [346] preachers were present, among them, President Shannon, L. L. Pinkerton, R. C. Ricketts, R. H. Forrester, R. C. Rice, and the Kendricks. Most of these had preached during the meeting, and, near its close, it was announced that Walter Scott would preach on Sunday night.

      The audience was large and intelligent, composed of persons from all the principal towns of the Blue Grass region. Lexington, Frankfort, Richmond, Paris, Harrodsburg, Shelbyville, and others, were represented. It was my lot to accompany the preacher into the pulpit, which gave me an opportunity of observing the effect of the sermon on the listening throng. His theme was the Golden Oracle, as he termed it, as set forth in the declaration of Simon Peter--Thou art the Christ, the Son of the Living God. His exordium was solemn, impressive, grand; his language reminding me of the finest passages of Milton, and almost with his first sentence I saw that he had established a warm sympathy between himself and his hearers. He spoke of the nature of Christ, as gold mingled with clay--the fine gold of divinity, with the clay of humanity; and then from the Old and New Testament gathered all the glorious names which prophets and apostles applied to the Son of God--names of power, excellency, and glory, and showed how they set forth the nature of him around whom they clustered, who, not only wore, but was worthy of them all.

      All felt that he was giving expression to their own highest conceptions of the Savior which they had never been able to embody in words, and so [347] fixed and intense became the attention, that the entire audience would unconsciously sway to and fro, as waves at the will of the wind, with every gesture of the speaker; if he cast his eyes upward, his hearers seemed gazing up into heaven; now a glad smile would light up every face, and anon every eye would be dim with tears; and, at the close of some marvel of description, a deep murmur or sigh might be heard, as though all had held their breath under the spell of his eloquence.

      The interest was sustained throughout, and some of the passages were the finest I ever heard from the lips of man. In one portion of his discourse he spoke of Christ as the Prophet, Priest, and King. He sought the Prophet among all those who had delivered the messages of God to men; but found him not at Sinai, nor at Carmel, where God owned Elijah by fire; nor among the long line of those who wept over Israel's sorrows and captivity, like Jeremiah; or who, like Isaiah, heralded the dawning of a brighter day; but bowing in agony in the Gethsemane, the great Prophet he sought was found. He bade kings and conquerors, in pomp and majesty, march by--we saw Nimrod, and Nebuchadnezzar, and David, and Solomon in all his glory; Cyrus, and Alexander, and the great Julius, swelled the procession; but the king he sought was found in Pilate's Judgment Hall, a soldier's purple cloak, thrown over him in mockery, for a regal robe; his scepter, a reed; for a diadem, a crown of cruel thorns; for subjects, rude soldiers with knees bent in scorn, and crying, in derision, Hail, King of the Jews.

      Next, a procession of priests passed by--Abel, [348] who reared his altar not far from the gates of Eden; Melchisedec, wearing crown and mitre; Aaron, in priestly robes, bearing the names of the chosen tribes on the breastplate near his heart, with all who had ministered to God in Tabernacle or Temple, who had offered sacrifice at the altar, or sprinkled the blood of atonement on the mercy-seat--but the Priest he sought, he found on Calvary, offering himself up to God on a bloody cross, at once, both priest and victim, praying for those who nailed him there, and from whose bleeding heart the viler soldier soon plucked his vile spear away. But he left us not weeping, at least not in sorrow, for he showed us the risen, glorified One, at the right hand of the Majesty on high, where he ever liveth to make intercession for us.

      I have never heard a discourse that, in my humble judgment, could compare to that to which I have referred, and certainly none that made so deep an impression, and which, after the lapse of so many years, I can so vividly recall. Perhaps a reason is needed for giving more space in this brief sketch to Scott, than to Campbell; if so, I only need to say that the finest efforts of the latter are preserved on the living page in his addresses, lectures, and debates, while those of the former were not, and could not be thus preserved; they owed much to the inspiration of the moment, to the looks and tones by which they were accompanied, and all that remains of them are impressions left on the memory of his hearers as they were on mine, and I am fully conscious that I have succeeded in giving but a faint idea of his wonderful power as a preacher. [349]

      On one occasion, while Campbell was addressing one of the most intelligent audiences ever assembled in Kentucky, quite a number of highly gifted and educated men rose unconsciously to their feet and leaned forward toward the speaker, as if fearing to lose a single word that fell from his lips; and what makes the case more remarkable is, that many of them were public advocates of the views he was assailing, as being, in his judgment, contrary to the Word of God; yet such was the force, clearness, and eloquence, that he brought to the task, that even those who differed from him could not but pay the high tribute which we have mentioned to his admirable powers of close thought, of lofty and brilliant expression.

      Scott's power, however, was over the hearts of men, and of the masses; his dark eyes seemed to penetrate the secrets of the soul, and his voice was soothing or terrible as he gave utterance to the promises or threatenings of the Word of God. Multitudes were awakened under his preaching to the peril of their souls, and pointed successfully to the Lamb of God, and, on some occasions, bitter enemies, and violent persecutors were changed, almost as suddenly as Saul of Tarsus, and became not only faithful Christians, but firm and life-long friends of the preacher whom they once had threatened and reviled.

      Campbell's greatness and strength may, in a great measure, be realized by a careful study of his writings; but the noblest efforts of his worthy fellow-laborer, as far as the expression is concerned, perished, almost at their birth, they could not be [350] reproduced by either speaker or hearer; the impression made on the minds and hearts of those who heard him, will never fade until all things else shall fade. But the tablets on which those memories dear and sweet are written, are perishable, and when the present generation passes, or, rather, when the remnant of those who heard him in his prime which yet lingers shall have passed away, the world will not know any thing, save by dim and imperfect tradition, of the wonderful eloquence of this gifted, this princely man. [351]

[LEWS 338-351]