C H A P T E R F I V E
From Lagrange to Lindley, continued. In a murderers bed. Maple sugar. Philosophy and Morality. Dr. Elmore shot. More philosophizing. Firsts. Baptist College. Pikes Peak or Hell.
I got up early and took a walk, (the weather had moderated) to see the world. I felt just a little bit homesick. The next evening we stopped for the night at a large public house and they put me in a large upper room where a murderer had slept the night before. I slept. Here let me state this was not the only time I was the next to sleep in a bed where a murderer had slept. A few years after this, during the awful war of the rebellion, I was late in the night getting into the City of Vincennes, Indiana and called a hotel for a bed. I was told there was but one empty bed, and it had just been vacated by a murderer. He became uneasy and left; the officers in pursuit of him came to the hotel, and searched his bed, but he was gone. I said to the landlord, "Do you suppose the officers will come back to search that bed again?" He said he supposed not. I told him that I would occupy it. The bed was still warm. I have seen, boys, about as much of the world as I want to see. I would not go fifty miles to see the Rocky Mountains or the Jerusalem that now is.
The third night we staid with a farmer who, that very night, has a maple sugar stirring off, and we had a good time, but the horse I rode was so tall he could not get through the stable door and he had to be tied out all night. The next day we arrived at Lindley, where I made my headquarters for almost five years.
But before I proceed with the story of my life chronologically, let me philosophize and moralize a little as suggested to me by my own experience in both young life and old life.
What, from a worldly, physical, selfish stand point, do you consider,
1. The best thing in this life.
2. The most convenient thing in this life.
Answer: 1. Good weather and good health.
2. Money
What, from any stand-point, do you think is the best
thing in this life?
Answer: Christianity.
What, from any stand-point, do you think is the worst
thing?
Answer: Sin.
Now, in my old age I do not wish to live my life over again, but I can see where I might have done better especially as it relates to the questions above. I might have taken more advantage of the good weather and avoided the bad. I might have taken better care of my health. I might have secured a little more money for the rainy days. I might have wedded myself more closely to Christianity, and have divorced myself more fully from sin.
But I am now in my old age content—am ready, and resting in the hope of the glory that shall be revealed. God is good. My counsel to my children and to all young people for many years has been, briefly stated:
Take care of your health.
Take care of your money.
Take care of your religion.
But, to return to Lindley, Missouri and to the 19th year of my age, I find myself, Dr. Elmore, wife and boy, stopping with my brother Henry and his young family. Brother Henry is nine yeas my senior. He lives to this day. He had, a year or two before, moved to that place.
The next morning after we arrived in Lindley, Dr. Elmore was fixing the shaft of his buggy when his revolver fell from his pocket, was discharged and shot him in the breast, the ball ranging upwards and lodged in his shoulder. He soon got well, but the ball is with him to this day.
I never owned a gun, a dog, a fiddle, a pocket knife, a razor, a pipe, a cigar or cigarette, a plug of tobacco, or a hug of whiskey. I never had any use for these things. I do not wholly condemn all these, but I do think the world would be better and safer without guns, dirk knives, dogs, tobacco, and strong drink.
During my stay of almost five years in Grundy and Sullivan counties, Mo., I spent the time in teaching and attending school. The principal events of my life were my second birth, my first sermon, my first convert, my first funeral, my first marriage, (I mean the first marriage I ever solemnized), my first religious debate and my first vote.
I taught in both Sullivan and Grundy counties. I soon gained the same popularity as a teacher that I had in Indiana. I never sought schools. They always sought me. I attended the Baptist College in Trenton one year. It was a very pleasant and profitable year of my early life. It was before the war when the general talk was about slavery and a probable war.
One day I and a young friend, chum and class-mate, a son of a Baptist preacher, were studying our lessons under a large beech tree in the college campus. My mate said to me, "Hastings, aren't you an abolitionist?" I said, "Yes, I am." "I believe all men ought to be free." He answered, "I thought so, and so am I and my father too." "But I want to admonish you not to talk it so much." The admonition was well given, and well taken, for the forebodings of the day were that not talk but action would be the right step. And so it was, for it was not long before the whole country was in an awful fratricidal war. The like of which, I hope our country will never see again.
It was during this year the great migration took place to Pike's Peak for gold. Nearly every day the streets would be full of covered wagons bound for Pike's Peak. I noticed on one wagon written in great red letters, "Hastings, bound for Pike's Peak or Hell." It was the noon hour, and I said to the other boys, "There is a Hastings in this crowd, and I am going to find him." I went into a grocery store where many of them were buying provisions. I soon picked him out, a tall good looking fellow, then besides he swore a great deal which tallied with what I saw on the wagon, so I stepped up to him and said, "Is your name Hastings?" He answered with an oath that it was. I said to him, "I see from what is written on your wagon that you are bound for Pike's Peak or Hell." Without waiting for him to reply, I further said, "I think from the way you are going, and the way you talk, you will probably get to both places." At first he looked like he was going to hit me, and then he smiled and said, "You don't swear?" I said, "No, nor do I think you ought to swear." He said, "Probably I ought not."
Then I told him my name was Hastings too. He shook hands with me and we had quite a visit. But he swore no more in my presence. We could trace no kinship, and I was a little glad of it. I do not think any man is totally depraved, but some are very nearly so. There is less excuse for swearing than almost any other sin.
—-0—-