SOME CHAPTERS OF MY LIFE STORY
By H. C. Morrison
CHAPTER 10
always welcome. We held several revivals and saw a few people brightly converted. Looking backward, I deeply regret that we did not spend most of our time holding revivals of religion and putting into them the enthusiasm and earnestness of which we were easily capable, if we had known it and gone at it like we should have done.
Nothing better for a young preacher than that he devote himself to winning souls. He learns how to preach by preaching. In revival meetings when he runs short of material he'll pray with great earnestness for divine help; he will search the Scriptures for appropriate texts; and he will grow in knowledge and experience, adaptability and skill as a fisherman for souls when he is devoting much of his time to intense evangelism, both in the pulpit, in the homes of the people, out in the field walking with the young sinner at the plow handles, or over at the barn admonishing the father of the family to give his heart to Christ that he might be prepared to train his children in the fear and admonition of his God. I well remember when Brother Cooper and I were in revival meeting, each lad preaching every other night; we used to go into the woods and pray, then sit on a log and talk over the thoughts we desired to present to the people. Such exercises are not a bad seminary. In these conversations we gave each other suggestions, our minds got active, we read our Bibles and grew in grace. I regret that we did not spend more time in this greatest work of all — the earnest seeking of the lost to win them to Christ.
Ruminating in my mind, I call up the names of the Wrights, the Jesses, the Grave family, Dr.
Quails and his interesting family, and the Kavanaughs. Rev. Peter Kavanaugh was a nephew of the great bishop by that name; he was a man of remarkable knowledge of nature and books and Bible teaching, lived on a farm, had a fine group of young children. His home and heart were open to us boys. Mrs. Montgomery, daughter of a famous old congressman named LeCompte, had a beautiful daughter, Miss Callie, with whom Brother Cooper fell in love at their first meeting. Later on, they married, and went to the far West, I believe, Montana. I do not know whether he is living or has passed away. There was a large family of Harrods. They were of the same family and stock of the Harrod pioneers for whom Harrodsburg was named.
The homes of the people were open to us everywhere and we were much of the time in our saddles riding over the wide expanse of our circuit territory, spending a night here, eating dinner there, and riding on to some other place for supper and a big, deep feather bed, sometimes under the rafters and board roof, always with the genuine and hearty love of the people which shall never be forgotten. A few years ago I went down to Polsgrove and preached one Sunday at the Methodist Church. The people of all denominations came out. We had a basket dinner. They had long tables set cafeteria style. The people took their paper plates and walked along picking out the meats that pleased them and winding up with pies and cakes of many varieties. I do not believe I ever saw a happier group of people, free from pretense, of genuine piety, and restful faith in the Word of God for truth and the Son of God for salvation. That day was like a taste of the Millennium when Christ shall reign in peace and men shall live in purity of heart and good will.
All of the people who were old or in middle life when I was there are gone. The children to whom I preached there more than fifty years ago are now gray-headed. The people who make up the community and the membership of the two churches, are Baptist and Methodist. As I travel over this
nation and circle the globe, my thoughts turn back with longing to Polsgrove and the memories of those people who loved us boys and blessed us with their prayers, who have gone home to Paradise.
The following year I was appointed assistant preacher with the Rev. T. F. Taliaferro, who was now in his third year on the Flodysburg Circuit. We divided the circuit giving me Glenmary, and I picked up two neglected churches which had no pastor — Westport and Mt. Hebron. I had a good year on that circuit, holding revival meetings at each of my places. I was assisted by Brother Taliaferro at Mt. Hebron, where Ulysses Grant Foote, then a little boy, was converted and taken into the church. He afterwards became one of the most eloquent preachers in Southern Methodism and was pastor in some of our great city churches. Dr. S. X. Hall assisted me in meetings at Glenmary.
He was a great preacher, an Irishman from whose lips and heart there flowed most beautiful English with eloquent appeal. Rev. Jack McIntyre, a true, good man, then stationed at LaGrange, Ky., helped me in meetings at Westport.
While traveling this circuit I made my home at Buckner's Station. Dr. Cassady gave me a spare room in his office. Some friends gave me a little furniture and I took my meals at a boarding house, where the number on my meal ticket was punched out as I took the meal. When all the numbers were punched out and I had no money, I did not go to the dining-room. This. didn't happen often and when it did, I said nothing about it; if I had, it would have started quite a stir and my needs would have been supplied at once. Dr, Cassady was one of the best, most devout men I ever knew, one of the truest friends I ever had. He was powerful in exhortation, mighty in prayer, loved me, prayed for me, instructed me. He died a few years ago more than ninety years of age. After my head was quite gray, I met the doctor at Kavanaugh Camp Ground and he told me that there hadn't been a day since my boyhood ministry, when I lived in a room at his office, that he had not prayed the blessing of God upon me.
In the fall of 1881 I was received on trial into the Kentucky Conference and appointed to the Concord Circuit, a village on the Ohio River some twelve or fifteen miles above Maysville. I had four churches; once a month I would preach in a private home about midway between Tollesboro and Concord. My largest and most active church was at Tollesboro. One of my most interesting appointments was Bethel, a dear old Methodist Church where there was a large family burying ground. Once a year now the people have a great gathering at Bethel Church. I have had an invitation to be present but have never been able to meet with that gathering. Another one of my churches was called Harrison's Meeting-house. That was not the name of the church, but it was near to Brother Harrison, a well-to-do farmer who contributed largely to its building and whose house was the home of the circuit rider.
My home during the year was at Thomas Putman's, a most excellent man living near Tollesboro.
He raised a fine family of children who became successful in business and have been true Methodists. I remember the exact words with which Brother Putman introduced his testimony at our first quarterly meeting at Tollesboro. He was a tall man, with a large head and an honest face. He never wasted words, and while he was a man of good humor, he never trifled. He stood up quietly and said with a deep, calm voice, "I know the Bible to be true because it corroborates my experience." One of our larger buildings at Asbury College is named, "Putman Memorial," in honor of this godly man and his devout wife, long ago safe at home in the City beyond the skies.
When I arrived at Concord I soon got acquainted with a bunch of young men about my age and we became friends. On inquiry they told me the Ohio River was a mile wide at that point. I doubt if it was that wide. They knew of no one who had ever swum the river there. I said I could swim it.
They said impossible. I had swum the Ohio River above Westport. They knew nothing of this. They took my clothing in a boat and followed. When I got out near the center the current was strong and bore me down quite a distance, perhaps a half mile lower than the point where I entered, but I got safely over. This feat helped my congregation the following Sabbath.
SOME CHAPTERS OF MY LIFE STORY
By H. C. Morrison
CHAPTER 11