Part 26 (1/2)
When he woke, Jasper said to him:
”Abraham, I wish you to know this Indian boy. I think there is a native n.o.bility in him. Do you remember Johnnie Kongapod's story, at which the people all used to laugh?”
”Yes, elder.”
”Abraham Lincoln, I can believe that story was true. I have faith in men. You do. Your faith will make you great.”
CHAPTER XV.
THE DEBATING SCHOOL.
There were some queer people in every town and community of the new West, and these were usually active at the winter debating school. These schools of the people for the discussion of life, politics, literature, were, on the whole, excellent influences; they developed what was original in the thought and character of a place, and stimulated reading and study. If a man was a theorist, he could here find a voice for his opinions; and if he were a genius, he could here uncage his gifts and find recognition. Nearly all of the early clergymen, lawyers, congressmen, and leaders of the people of early Indiana and Illinois were somehow developed and educated in these so-called debating schools.
Among the odd people sure to be found in such rural a.s.semblies were the man with visionary schemes for railroads, ca.n.a.ls, and internal improvements, the sanguine inventor, the noisy free-thinker, the benevolent Tunker, the man who could preach without notes by ”direct inspiration,” the man who thought that the world was about to come to an end, and the patriot who pictured the American eagle as a bird of fate and divinity. The early pioneer preacher learned to talk in public in the debating school. The young lawyer here made his first pleas.
The frequent debates in Jones's store led to the formation of a debating school in Gentryville and Pigeon Creek. In this society young Abraham Lincoln was the leader, and his cousin Dennis Hanks and his uncle John were prominent disputants. The story-telling blacksmith furnished much of the humor, and Josiah Crawford, or ”Blue-Nose Crawford,” as he was called, was regarded as the man of hard sense on such occasions as require a Solomon, or a Daniel, or a Portia, and he was very proud to be so regarded.
There was a revival of interest in the cause of temperance in the country at this time, and the n.o.ble conduct of Abraham Lincoln, in carrying to his cousin Dennis's the poor drunkard whom he had found in the highway on the chilly night after the debate at Jones's store, may have led to a plan for a great debate on the subject of the pledge, which was appointed to take place in the log school-house at Pigeon Creek. The plan was no more than spoken of at the store than it began to excite general attention.
”We must debate this subject of the temperance pledge,” said Thomas Lincoln, ”and get the public sense. New times are at hand. On general principles, I'm a temperance man; and if n.o.body drank once, then n.o.body would drink twice, and the world would all go dry. But there's the corn-huskin's, and the hoe-down, and the mowin' times, and the hog-killin's, and the barn-raisin's. It is only natural that men should wet their whistles at such times as these. In the old Scriptur' times people who wanted to get great spiritual power abstained from strong drink; but you can't expect no such people as those down here at Pigeon Creek.”
”But Abe is a temperancer, and I want the debate to come off in good shape, so that all you uns can hear what he has to say.”
It was decided by the leading debaters that the subject for the debate should be, ”Ought temperance people to sign the temperance pledge?” and that Abraham Lincoln should sustain the affirmative view of the question.
The success of young Lincoln as a debater had greatly troubled Aunt Indiana.
”It's all like the rattlin' of a pea-pod in the blasts o' ortum,” she said. ”It don't signify anything. He just rains words upon ye, and makes ye laugh, and the first thing ye know he's got ye. Beware--beware! his words are just like stool-pigeons, what brings you down to get shot.
It's amazin' what a curi'us gift of talk that boy has!”
When she heard of the plan of the debate, and the part a.s.signed to young Lincoln, she said:
”'Twill be a great night for Abe, unless I hinder it. I'm agin the temperance pledge. Stands to reason that a man's no right to sign away his liberty. And I'm agin Abe Linkern, because he's too smart for anythin', and lives up in the air like a kite; and outthinks other people, because he sits round readin' and turkey-dreamin' when he ought to be at work. I shall work agin him.”
And she did. She first consulted upon the subject with Josiah Crawford--”the Esquire,” as she called him--and he promised to give the negative of the question all the weight of his ability.
There was a young man in Gentryville named John Short, who thought that he had had a call to preach, and who often came to Aunt Indiana for theological instruction.
”Don't run round the fields readin' books, like Abraham Linkern,” she warned him. ”He'll never amount to a hill o' beans. The true way to become a preacher is to go into the desk, and open the Bible, and put yer fingers on the first pa.s.sage that you come to, and then open yer mouth, and the Lord will fill it. I do not believe in edicated ministers. They trust in chariots and horses. Go right from the plow to the pulpit, and the heavens will help ye.”
John Short thought Aunt Indiana's advice sound, and he resolved to follow it. He once made an appointment to preach after this unprepared manner in the school-house. He could not read very well. He had once read at school, ”And he smote the Hitt.i.te that he died” ”And he smote the Hi-ti-ti-ty, that he did,” and he opened the Bible at random for a Scripture lesson on this trying occasion. His eye fell upon the hard chapters in Chronicles beginning ”Adam, Sheth, Enoch.” He succeeded very well in the reading until he came to the generations of j.a.pheth and the sons of Gomer, which were mountains too difficult to pa.s.s. He lifted his eyes and said, ”And so it goes on to the end of the chapter, without regard to particulars.”
”That chapter was given me to try me,” he said, as a kind of commentary, ”and, my friends, I have been equal to it. And now you shall hear me preach, and after that we'll take up a contribution for the new meetin'-house.”
The sermon was a short one, and began amid much mental confusion. ”A certain man,” he began, ”went down from Jerusalem to Jericho and fell among thieves; and the thieves sprang up and choked him; and he said, 'Who is my neighbor?' You all know who your neighbors are, O my friends.” Here followed a long pause. He added:
”Always be good to your neighbors. And now we will pa.s.s around the contribution-box, and after that we'll _all_ talk.”
This beginning of his work as a speaker did not look promising, but he had conducted ”a meetin',” and that fact made John Short a s.h.i.+ning light in Aunt Indiana's eyes. To this young man the good woman went for a champion of her ideas in the great debate.