Newgent prudently made the service brief. The sermon was not as spiritual as it might have been under different conditions, as the congregation was quite sympathetic and responsive, and he considered it injudicious to encourage their emotions at that time. He was more especially concerned about laying plans for the future. How to get them back was the question, which he sought to solve by a bit of strategy. So, in addition to giving them a few morsels of wholesome advice, well sugarcoated with his native good humor, he made the startling announcement that at the next meeting he would preach on the subject of slavery. If anything were calculated to bring them back, surely that was.
It was taken for granted, of course, that he was an Abolitionist and would denounce the South. The blood of those southern sympathizers at once began to boil. Everybody anticipated a lively time, and interest became intense. All felt that the foolhardy young fellow did not realize the danger to which he was exposing himself. An old gentleman, the village blacksmith, whose father had been a United Brethren preacher, felt it his duty to warn the reverend gentleman and have him to call off the entire proceedings. As usual, Newgent was firm. He told the gentleman, however, that he wanted to be fair to both sides, so if those who disagreed with him desired, they might get a man to follow him and present the other side of the question.
This they were only too anxious to do. When the time came, they had their man. By the time Newgent and his wife arrived at the little school house that evening it was completely packed and an immense crowd was gathered on the outside. It was with the greatest difficulty that they forced themselves through the anxious throng and made their way to the front of the building. The opponent was on hand, ready to take his measure and smash all of his arguments. As might be surmised, sympathy was plainly and emphatically with the southern advocate. If he could not demolish the frail Abolitionist, there were enough present who were ready to lend all the assistance he needed. The smell of brimstone was in the air, indicating the presence of that commodity in unlimited quantities. All that was lacking for a real conflagration was something to touch it off. And that something was momentarily expected.
After a brief preliminary exercise, the preacher opened the discussion. Like the great apostle on Mars Hill, he complimented his hearers on their seeming interest in the subject at hand. “As the subject of slavery,” he said, “is stirring our country from one end to the other, and as it is a subject of such vital importance, I take pleasure at this time in presenting one phase of it.
“I wish to observe in my remarks, First, the slave; Second, his master; Third, the law by which he is held in bondage; Fourth, how he is to be liberated; Fifth, where he is to be colonized.” Thus far, well and good. These were familiar topics, and had been discussed pro and con even by the school children. Hence, his opening remarks were according to expectations, and breathlessly they awaited what was to follow.
Their consternation and chagrin can only be imagined when he proceeded to state that the slave is the sinner; his master is the devil; the law by which he is held in bondage is sinful lusts and habits; he is to be liberated through the blood of Christ; and heaven is the place of his colonization. Around these propositions he built his discourse without any reference to slavery as a civil institution. It was strictly a gospel sermon, and his antagonist had no disposition to reply.
“Well, we are beat,” said the old blacksmith after the service was dismissed, “but the boy is the sharpest fellow that ever struck this town.” And he was not alone in his conclusion.
With a view to holding the audience for the next appointment, he announced that he would preach at that time from the Book of Newgent, the twenty-eighth chapter and thirty-third verse, “Can any good thing come out of Rainsville?”