Hard and adverse was the life of Jasper! For years many hostile forces sought to unhorse and cripple him. It would require books to hold the slanders and scandals laid to his charge. The archers used poisoned arrows, and often tore his flesh and fancied that they had him, but his bow abode in strength. Meanwhile, the public, that jury of the many, sat still and watched, weighing the evidence, listening to the prosecutors, unravelling conflicting testimony, and feeling the way to justice. In the midst of it all, the brave old chieftain died, while the trial was yet going on. The jury was long silent, but it has spoken at last, and the verdict is, that the name of this veteran of the cross shall be enrolled among the fearless, the faithful, and the immortal. He endured as seeing the invisible and now he sees.


XIII THE SUN DO MOVE

In presenting John Jasper’s celebrated sermon on “De Sun Do Move,” I beg to introduce it with several explanatory words. As intimated in a former chapter it is of a dual character. It includes an extended discussion, after his peculiar fashion, of the text, “The Lord God is a man of war; the Lord is His name.” Much that he said in that part of his sermon is omitted, only so much being retained as indicates his view of the rotation of the sun. It was really when he came into this part of his sermon that he showed to such great advantage, even though so manifestly in error as to the position which he tried so manfully to antagonize. It was of that combative type of public speech which always put him before the people at his best. I never heard this sermon but once, but I have been amply aided in reproducing it by an elaborate and altogether friendly report of the sermon published at the time by The Richmond Dispatch. Jasper opened his discourse with a tender reminiscence and quite an ingenious exordium.

“Low me ter say,” he spoke with an outward composure which revealed an inward but mastered swell of emotion, “dat when I wuz a young man and a slave, I knowed nuthin’ wuth talkin’ ’bout consarnin’ books. Dey wuz sealed mysteries ter me, but I tell yer I longed ter break de seal. I thusted fer de bread uv learnin’. When I seen books I ached ter git in ter um, fur I knowed dat dey had de stuff fer me, an’ I wanted ter taste dere contents, but most of de time dey wuz bar’d aginst me.

“By de mursy of de Lord a thing happened. I got er room-feller—he wuz a slave, too, an’ he had learn’d ter read. In de dead uv de night he giv me lessons outen de New York Spellin’ book. It wuz hard pullin’, I tell yer; harder on him, fur he know’d jes’ a leetle, an’ it made him sweat ter try ter beat sumthin’ inter my hard haid. It wuz wuss wid me. Up de hill ev’ry step, but when I got de light uv de less’n into my noodle I farly shouted, but I kno’d I wuz not a scholur. De consequens wuz I crep ’long mighty tejus, gittin’ a crum here an’ dar untel I cud read de Bible by skippin’ de long words, tolerable well. Dat wuz de start uv my eddicashun—dat is, wat little I got. I mek menshun uv dat young man. De years hev fled erway sense den, but I ain’t furgot my teachur, an’ nevur shall. I thank mer Lord fur him, an’ I carries his mem’ry in my heart.

“’Bout seben months after my gittin’ ter readin’, Gord cunverted my soul, an’ I reckin ’bout de fust an’ main thing dat I begged de Lord ter give me wuz de power ter und’stan’ His Word. I ain’ braggin’, an’ I hates self-praise, but I boun’ ter speak de thankful word. I b’lieves in mer heart dat mer pra’r ter und’stand de Scripshur wuz heard. Sence dat time I ain’t keer’d ’bout nuthin’ ’cept ter study an’ preach de Word uv God.

“Not, my bruthrin, dat I’z de fool ter think I knows it all. Oh, mer Father, no! Fur frum it. I don’ hardly und’stan myse’f, nor ha’f uv de things roun’ me, an’ dar is milyuns uv things in de Bible too deep fur Jasper, an’ sum uv ’em too deep fur ev’rybody. I doan’t cerry de keys ter de Lord’s closet, an’ He ain’ tell me ter peep in, an’ ef I did I’m so stupid I wouldn’t know it when I see it. No, frens, I knows my place at de feet uv my Marster, an’ dar I stays.

“But I kin read de Bible and git de things whar lay on de top uv de soil. Out’n de Bible I knows nuthin’ extry ’bout de sun. I sees ’is courses as he rides up dar so gran’ an’ mighty in de sky, but dar is heaps ’bout dat flamin’ orb dat is too much fer me. I know dat de sun shines powerfly an’ po’s down its light in floods, an’ yet dat is nuthin’ compared wid de light dat flashes in my min’ frum de pages of Gord’s book. But you knows all dat. I knows dat de sun burns—oh, how it did burn in dem July days. I tell yer he cooked de skin on my back many er day when I wuz hoein’ in de corn feil’. But you knows all dat, an’ yet dat is nuthin’ der to de divine fire dat burns in der souls uv Gord’s chil’n. Can’t yer feel it, bruthrin?