"When I became tired of shouting over them, I said to them: 'Now you poor, dirty, mean sinners, take this as a just judgment of God upon you for your meanness, and repent of your dreadful wickedness; and let this be the last time that you attempt to insult a preacher; for if you repeat your abominable sport and persecutions, the next time God will serve you worse, and the devil will get you.'
"They felt so badly that they never uttered one word of reply. Now I was very glad that I did not horsewhip them, as I felt like doing; but that God had avenged His own cause, and defended His own honor without my doing it with carnal weapons. Later, at one of my prosperous camp-meetings, I had the great pleasure to see all three of these young people converted to God, and I took them into the Methodist Church."[1]
Cartwright's mission was not, however, story-telling, as was soon made evident. "Time is bearing on us," he said, "toward the Judgment. Are we prepared? This is the question—it is the one great question. Brethren and sisters, is every soul here prepared to meet his God? Let me see." There was a general indication that those present were. Abe Lincoln did not signify readiness. "We are going to pray," Cartwright said, "and you, my young friend," addressing him, "should humble yourself and call to God for deliverance from hell, for surely the enemy of man's soul is on his track, and damnation is the eternal punishment of the unsaved. Fear hell and flee to God."
"But I don't fear hell," Abe Lincoln said comfortably.
"Don't fear hell?" and there was both condemnation and surprise in Cartwright's tone as he repeated the words. "By such unbelief you question the existence of God."
"No—I don't question the existence of God, but I would if I believed eternal damnation. You see, parson, you and me don't measure God by the same yardstick."
"But to doubt hell is to doubt God. The same inspired book is the authority for both."
"For some, maybe, but not for others. Old Snoutful Kelly brought a child into the world without never once askin' her whether she wanted to come or not. Then he moved her to Muddy Point where there was nothin' but mud, without askin' her if she wanted to go. Then he told her to keep out of the mud, and when she couldn't he gave her a black eye. Having knocked her blind, he told her if she got into the mud again he'd 'souse her in a mud-hole to her ears and leave her there for the buzzards to pick her eyes out.' Now you say God brings us here children into this world without askin' nothin' about it, where there's devilment all about us, and we didn't put that here, either. Then you have God give us a black eye with this original sin you preach about, which makes us sin whether we want to or not, and when He gets us He promises hell fire and eternal damnation for gettin' into sin. This here don't sound like God to me. It sounds like Snoutful Kelly."
The silence that followed this statement was the kind that seems reduced to pound-weight. Cartwright stared at the presumptuous youth who had uttered such words. When he could speak, he said: "Coming from the lips of a worm of the dust, I should call such sacrilege—nothing short of blasphemy."