■ lunuiMiriiiiiiinniiH'ilii STEPHEN Bo WEEKS CLASS 0FI886;PKD. THE JOHNS HOPKINS UNIVERSITY OF THE UMVERsinnf OF N®im cawdijna ME WEEKS COJLILECTKDN OF CMOUMAM 3L 3 ^ u ^7!% ^:^w. iL .-^rp Z^ m^^ m-^^t 'Xf^ Soon, however, soft slumbers were broken by a terror unseen, unknown, and therefore doubly alarming. * ^-^ A strong odor of sulphur made every one gasp for breath. A low, but awful, rumbling un- nerv'^ed ever>^ soul in the group, except Cox and Mof- fitt, the proprietors. * * The mountain was vol- canic. At early dawn the two gentlemen set out for the summit of the mountain, and ere they had pro- ceeded far, discovered the cause of their alarm. * * When they gained the summit their alarm had ceased, and past terror was forgotten in contemplat- ing the scene before them. * * While contem- plating, they were suddenly alarmed by an awful lo Life of Braxton Craven. war-whoop of the Indian, in the direction of the camp. They hurried down, and as the fierce yell died awa}^ the very blood froze in their veins when they heard loud lamentations from their friends. Two or three Indian warriors had stealthily ap- proached, and as little Amy Cox strolled a few steps, they seized and bore her off, beyond the pos- sibilit}^ of rescue. The alarm, the pain of the fam- ilies; may be imagined but not described. With almost broken hearts, the}' left that melancholy place and finally settled on Deep River. '-^^ ^ Finally the long-lost daughter escaped her captors, reached her friends, and now her descendants worship at Holly Spring." In the latter part of the eighteenth century the territory now comprising Randolph county contained a considerable population. In the vicinity of Cedar Falls there were a number of very thrifty and sub- stantial families, such as the Browns, Hinshaws, Bur- gesses, Johnsons, Coxes, Moffitts, Cravens, Robbinses and Yorks. The natural scenery round about is pic- turesque. The surface of the countr}- is irregular and rolling, and several mountainous peaks rise to view in the west and south. The Deep river surges and plunges its wa}^ among the rocks and hills, with here and there decided falls and rocky cliffs and crags on either side. Indeed, in some places the landscape rivals the Blue Ridge in its wildness and beauty. This section was the scene of many interesting and stir- ring events of the Rev^olution. The violence of that Life of Braxton Craven. ii Revolution and the disorganization of society accom- panying it, put the characters of men to a severe test. The intense passions aroused tended to develop and expose whatever was either good or bad in human nature. There were developed, on the one hand, men who distinguished themselves for vice, rapine and the most villainous of crimes ; and on the other, men who displayed the noblest virtues and highest patriotism. Many people in this section were active in the Regulator movements preceding the Revolution. In the Colonial Records there is an account of the Governor's marching "into the plan- tations of Husband, Hunter and several others of the outlawed chiefs of the Regulators ' ' and laying them waste. Some time before this Husband, Hun- ter and others assembled at Hillsborough * ' and in a violent manner went into the court house and forci- bly carried out some of the attorneys, and in a cruel manner beat them. They then insisted that the judge should proceed to the trial of their leaders, who had been indicted at a former court, and that the jury should be taken out of their own party." The judge escaped in the night and left the "court in course. ' ' The next day the so-called Regulators took charge of the docket and held mock trials. Case No. 12 was ' ' Isaiah Hogan (a Tory) vs, Hermon Husbands. ' ' The judgment entered on the docket was this: ' ' Ho- gan pays and be damned." 12 Life of Braxton Craven. This section was the scene of many deeds of vio- lence on the part of the noted Tor}^, Col. David Fanning, who was one of the most atrocious mur- derers and most successful outlaws of this or any other countr}'. ** In 1778 there lived about one mile west of Deep River Graveyard, some twelve miles southeast of Asheboro, a family by the name of Comer — the hus- band, wife and four children. Mrs. Comer's friends, had all been slain by the Indians: from a secure hiding place she had seen them scalped, and after the Indians retired, she wept herself to sleep upon the bosom of her lifeless mother. From her slum- bers she was aroused by the yell of another prowling party, and would have been slain in turn but for the presence of mind to appear as dead until the maraud- ers passed by. * "^^ She never could bear to be left alone; any noise at night always alarmed her; often in the dusk of evening a bush or stump took the form of her scalpless father or an armed Indian. One day in autumn. Comer must needs go from home, and could not possibly return till after night. * * No neighbor lived nearer than three miles, and no company, except four helpless children and a faith- ful dog, could Mrs. Comer have. That day was one of anxiety; the very trees in the surrounding wood looked lonely, and the birds seemed to have laid aside their joy to sigh out in mournful notes some tale of woe; indeed, massacre and Tory murder was appar- Life of Braxton Craven. 13 ently the burden of their song. As evening ap- proached, the gloom increased. Dark clouds rolled athwart the sk}^; a heav}^ wind, like lost spirits, mourned among the trees, making the uneasy door- shutter sway to and fro, as if it were prophes3dng to its lonely inmate. The chickens commenced crowing, the owls hooted their ominous dirges from a high woodland, and the faithful dog whined, walked about uneasily, occasionally uttering a long, thrill- ing howl that rent the poor woman's heart like dag- gers. The little children, thoughtless of danger, fell asleep, but Mrs. Comer tried to keep them awake for company. A while after night her very pulse ceased beating, as she heard a stealthy step around the house and low voices in consultation. * * At last a bar fell — she knew her husband was approach- ing. What must she do? Let him approach and fall by the assassin's hand, or fly to him and bid him escape for his life? Impelled b}^ a wife's love, she rushed out, and ere she had crossed the yard was seized by a Tory's hand and hurled to the ground. Startled by her screams, her husband rushed to her and instantly fell — stabbed literally to pieces. The ruffians entered the house, plundered it of what they wished, and dragged the children out, to be slain at their father's side. Meanwhile, the mother softly arose and hastened through a dark and lonely way to the nearest house. Next day the friends placed father and children in one grave in Deep River Grave- 14 Life of Braxton Craven. yard. But the mother — poor mother ! — her heart was broken, her cup was full, and soon she reposed beside her loved ones. "Stranger, when you visit that venerable place, in the southwest corner you will see a little mound: there they repose, drop a tear to their memory and breathe a sigh to their dust. * =•' ^ The sight of Comer's old field, as related by some old men, has often made children shudder. The crowing of chickens after sunset, and the howling of dogs in dusky twilight, are considered bad signs in all that countr3^ Everj^ mill-boy will go miles further rather than pass that old field after night. The general belief is : that under an old mulberr}^, on cloudy evenings, a dog maj^ always be heard whining; that the sound of voices is even distinct, and that a bear may be heard half a mile distant. Ahvays in September, soon after night, a man may be seen riding among the pines, which now give a ghost-like appearance to the place; five corpses may be seen lying where the house stood, and a fe- male may be met on any dark night hastening along the ridge road. Though the graveyard is near the public road, few persons see it after night, for they believe a woman in white may be seen sitting on that neglected mound, and that winding sheets wave in the trees." Among the signers of petitions sent to the Gov- ernor from this county during the Regulator move- Life of Braxton Craven. 15 ments, are found the names of many people who evi- dently lived in what is now the southeastern portion. In the list are the names of Peter Craven and Har- mon Cox, two of the most common names now to be found in the county. Jacob Cox, a probable grandson of Harmon Cox, had only two sons, Jacob and Nathan W. , and to each he bequeathed a large tract of land along the Deep River, About 1820 COX'S LOG CABIN. Nathan, having married, left the old homestead and located further south. He selected as the site of his new home the brow of a hill about four miles south- east of the present village of Ramseur. At first he lived in a tent pitched in a grove of cedars and elms, within two hundred yards of the Deep River and overlooking it a mile to the northwest and a half mile to the southeast. The surface of the country on 1 6 Life of Braxton Craven. either side of the river is rugged and hilly. To the southeast ma}" be seen a decided peak, some four or five hundred feet high, known as Pilot Mountain. The river, forcing its wa}' over the rocky channel and keeping up a ceaseless roar, could be distinctly" heard at the camp. The scene from the brow of the hill is indeed romantic. Mr. Cox's tract of land comprised about one thousand acres. As soon as he could get the necessar}' timber he erected a log cabin, having one room on the ground floor and a sort of loft above, with a small window in the gable end to admit light. A pencil sketch of the house is pre- sented on preceding page. Life of Braxton Craven. 17 CHAPTER II. No one now living is able to state the exact cir- cumstances which led to Braxton Craven's joining the Cox household. Calvin Cox, son of Nathan, says that his father found the lad in distress, then , about seven j^ears old, and took him in the family. Mr. Cox was a man of great push and enterprise. He cleared land, started a saw-mill, built barns and cribs, and soon made himself independent. He planted large fields of corn, oats, wheat and potatoes; raised horses, cows, sheep, chickens, turkeys, geese, and planted an immense orchard of some four or five hundred trees. Behind the house, at the bottom of a steep hill, w^as a large rock spring, shaded by a mulberry tree, where the milk and butter were kept, and also where the washing was done. When young Craven entered the household. Cox had only three children — Stephen, then about two years older than Craven, Rachael, about the same age, and Calvin, a baby. Stephen and Brack (as he was called) worked every day on the farm. The fact that Cox was a Quaker and opposed to owning slaves probably ac- counts for his having put these boys to work earlier and harder than otherwise would have been the case. They milked the cows, brought water, fed the horses, slopped hogs and worked m the field. At night they slept in the loft on a pallet. The window of the 1 8 Life of Braxton Craven. room was too high from the floor through which to see anything but the moon and stars. When Brack had been there about a year, Cox decided to build a new residence. Accordingl}- he erected in front of the old one a substantial two-story frame building, having five rooms on the ground floor and two above. This house is still standing and a lead-pencil sketch of it is herewith presented. COX'S LATER RESIDENCE. As the years went by, Cox cleared more land and enlarged his farming operations. He made fifteen or twent}^ barrels of vinegar each year, besides large quantities of cider. He built a large barn and a corn-crib and wagon-shed in front of his house. To the left of the house, and near the gate of the barn- yard, was built a blacksmith shop. About half mile distant, on a small stream, he built a grist mill. He Life of Braxton Craven. 19 built a loom house and also a cooperage for making barrels, the heads of which were dried in the kitchen fire-place. To make the farm complete, he con- structed a brandy distillery at the bottom of the hill, about two hundred yards from the spring. Brandy at his house was almost as abundant as water. Mr. H. B. Allen, one of his neighbors, says he kept it in a pitcher on a table for anybody that w^anted it. Another neighbor remarks that Cox used brandy instead of coffee. The demand for spirits in those days being somewhat brisk, he put in a second dis- tillery where he manufactured corn whiskey. Cox's wife was a woman of remarkable constitution and was as full of energ}^ as himself. Not infrequently she would work at the still at night after doing her every-day tasks. She cooked, worked at the spin- ning wheel, wove cloth, knitted socks, and in fact made pretty much all the clothing for the household As one of the neighbors expressed it, "she was a woman who wouldn't stand back for anything." Among other achievements, she gave birth to four- teen children, eight of whom lived to maturity. Young Brack never shirked work. He displayed restless activity, and would often volunteer w^hen any disagreeable task was to be done. He was also very obliging. Mr. H. B. Allen relates that he was passing Cox's house one day with a load of grist, when a heavy storm compelled him to stop, and that Brack helped him to unload his sacks of erain. 20 Life of Braxton Craven. Brack learned to saw logs, run the mill, make shoes, ploughs, harrows, horse shoes, barrels, can- dles, brandy, whiskey and cider. On a recent visit to the homestead the writer saw the old shoe bench, blocks, awls, etc., also the hackler and scutch used in preparing flax, the tin candle moulds, the tun-dish for making cider, the spinning wheel and much of the tableware and household furniture used by Na- than Cox. A description of the furniture and table- ware, as actually used, will be found in chapter five. From the first Brack showed great fondness for horses. He gave them special attention and devel- oped into an exceptionally good rider and driver. Life of Braxton Craven. 21 CHAPTER III. Cox made frequent trips to Fayetteville, and occa- sional trips to Bennettsville and Cheraw. He trav- eled in a four-horse covered wagon loaded with flour, liquor, cider, vinegar, potatoes, chickens, eggs, hams, turkeys, butter, cheese, etc. WHien he went to Fayetteville Brack usually accompanied him. The trip required several days' journeying, and Cox car- ried along with him a tent, camp-stool, frying pan, coffee pot, and a provision box, full of baked bread, sugar, salt, a few pewter plates, cups and other things necessary to camp life. On one occasion they were returning from Fayetteville, in company with Mr. John Parks and his son Hugh, the latter two in their own w^agon. They camped one night at Ty- son's toll bridge, and the spring being a consider- able way off, Mr. Cox and Mr. Parks agreed to go for the water if Brack and young Hugh would cook the meat and make coffee. While the old men were at the spring, some hogs from a neighboring farm raided the camp and were about to get in the pro- vision box. The boys, however, were equal to the occasion and not only routed the enemy, but had a great amount of fun in doing so. They got some sharp sticks, and after setting them afire, pursued the swine and sent them squealing all over the woods. In the meantime the camp fire had become scattered about and it required hustling to repair it before 22 Life of Braxton Craven. the water-bearers appeared upon the scene. On the same trip, having laid in a supply of sulphur matches (then quite rare in that countr}-), j^oung Brack wish- ing to experiment somewhat, set fire to a field of wire-grass and laid it in waste. On one of these visits to Fayetteville Braxton hap- pened to an accident. He fell off the wagon, or in some way got under one of the horses, which trod on his leg, making an ugly and painful cut. He was carried into a store where his wound was dressed. While lying on the counter in a somewhat fretful mood, the merchant gave him a spelling book to divert his mind. This was the first book he ever had. He carried it home with him and made it the corner- stone of his education. The injur}- received from the horse left a scar w^hich remained with him through- out life. Another incident connected with his wagoning is this : Returning late one night from a trip to a neigh- bor' s with a wagon load of lumber, he was delayed by a rain storm, and darkness closed in on him as he was coming down the steep hill at the mill The creek had to be crossed on the dam, which was bareh^ wide enough for the wagon. While hesitating and trembling with fear, a light appeared some distance ahead descending the hill. In a few moments he saw, under the glare of a pine torch, the face of one of his neighbor playmates, who, knowing that Brack had not returned, had come down to help him across the narrow and dangerous pass. Brack appreciated Life of Braxton Craven. 23 this very much, and often referred to it afterwards as one of the most valued favors he ever received. Speaking of wagoning, calls to mind the fact _ that Brack hauled the first load of lumber for the ^^ cotton factory at Cedar Falls. Mr. Hugh Parks, then a little boy, also did some wagoning for the mill, and says he often saw Brack and his team. Brack, having made some progress in his spelling- book, and learning of a school in the neighborhood, expressed a desire to attend. Cox gratified this wish and sent both him and Stephen. The teacher was Jack Byers, who held forth in a log-house about two miles away. Mr. Byers had the reputation for being a good teacher, and is said to have been an excep- tionally fine penman While attending school Brack was required to do the feeding, morning and even- ing, and to tend the mill when necessary to grind after dark. Mr. Hugh Parks, of FrankHnsville, says that he had often taken grist to the mill when Brack was running it. Mr Jackson Craven, living near Ramseur, but not related to the subject of this sketch, says that often when Brack tended the mill at night he w^ould gather up sticks and make a fire to study his grammar lesson while the mill was running. One may well imagine, as Brack was returning from the mill after dark, that he saw ghosts hiding along the road, "winding sheets in the trees," and heard "crowing chickens," " howhng dogs," and whispering voices." 24 Life of Braxton Craven. CHAPTER IV. Just a few weeks before the close of a session of the school, Mr. Cox informed Brack that he must soon accompan}^ him with the wagon to Fayetteville. Brack was reluctant to go. He had been taking quite an interest in declamations, and he had pre- pared a speech for the closing exercises soon to take place. At length he persuaded Cox to start a few^ days earlier, in order that they might return in time for the school closing. Cox and Brack put out with a four-horse load of flour. They camped the first night about seven miles out, and were there met by a number of other wagoners of the neighborhood. Next morning, after they had gone several miles, they heard the footsteps of a horse coming behind them at a rapid pace. The rider stopped abruptly at Cox's wagon, and dismounting, said, "Dad, I got bad news. Sis' Rachel is nigh dead. The pot fell ofE the rack and spilt the scalding water all over her. Ma. told me to come after you. ' ' Mr. Cox told Brack that he would go home and return that day if the child was not dangerously hurt, but if she was, he would send Stephen to notify him to bring the wagon home. Taking a horse out of the team, Mr. Cox hurried away. As the evening drew on apace Brack became very impatient. He was thinking that this delay might cause him to miss the declama- Life of Braxton Craven. 25 tion contest. Finally he saw Stephen coming over the hill on a horse. Stephen brought word for Brack to return home. Brack was downcast, but in a moment a flash of light passed over his face. He told Stephen that he had decided to go on to Fayette- ville with the load; that he thought he could " make out ' ' with three horses, and that he could catch the wagons that had gone ahead. Stephen was dumb- founded, but Brack, being resolute, cracked his whip and drove away. There can be no doubt of the truth of this inci- dent. Mrs. James Hutton^, now living at Climax, told the wTiter that her husband joined Craven on this trip and helped him to sell his produce. She says Craven was then about 1 1 years old, and that he had to stand upon a bucket to fasten the horses' collars. Xhe Cox boys, and also Brack Craven, were dis- ciplined to hard labor. On a large farm, having so many different departments, there was always plenty to do for the laborers. However, the boys had their hours for sport and play as well as for work. They pitched horseshoes, played marbles, rolleyhole, hunted" rabbits, opossums, deer, foxes, killed snakes and fished in all the neighboring streams. They climbed trees, swam in the river and rolled in the hay loft. *Her grandfather sat on the jury that tried I^ewis for the murder ot Naomi Wise. 26 Life of Braxton Craven. Among the boys at one time was Jas. A. Ellison, who had been hired by Cox to assist in the farm work. He was several j^ears older than Craven. One day Craven and Ellison were ordered to do some ploughing among the 3'oung vegetables in the gar- den patch. Craven played the part of a horse and hitched himself to the plough while Ellison guided the plough and held the rope. Craven took fright at a bumble bee and ran away tearing up cabbages, potatoe vines and things in general. There is a tra- dition to the effect that these wild young colts were tamed by a liberal application of the limbs of a peach tree. Life of Braxton Craven. 27 CHAPTER V. " Softly the evening came. The sun from the western horizon, "Like a magician, extended his golden wand o'er the landscape." The boys left their ploughs in the field and, mount- ing their horses, wended their homeward way. The cows and sheep came struggling up the lane, jingling their bells and lowing and bleating. The swine, lingering about the barn gate, were grunting and squealing with impatience for their evening allow- ance. The turkeys, chickens and guineas were scrambling in the trees and quarreling over their roosts. The purple finches, taking their evening meal in the cedars, caught the warning and flitted away to find perches for the night. Now and then the melancholy notes of the whippoorwill rose upon the air, echoed among the hills and died away along the valley. While the boys were watering and feeding the stock, Mrs. Cox was busy in the kitchen preparing the supper. In a high, wide fireplace were two iron weights, like square dumb-bells, formerly used at the mill, now serving the purpose of andirons. A number of hickory sticks, laid across these irons were burning with a cheerful blaze. Suspended over the fire and supported by two iron bars that hung 28 Life of Braxton Craven. down the chimney, was a large iron pot for boiling water and stewing meat. On the hearth was an iron oven full of biscuits, with hot coals under it and hot ashes piled upon the lid. A tin coffee pot, with steam oozing from the spout, occupied a place among the coals and ashes in front of the fire, and resting upon the blazing wood was a frying pan, giving forth savory odors of ham and bacon. A little child was sitting upon the floor toying with a bone, and a large brown cat with sleepy eyes was lying upon the pro- vision box in the corner. Presently the supper was spread. The table cover was a tow- cloth of Mrs. Cox's own make A pewter plate, a cup, a tub- shaped glass, and a black-handle knife and fork were placed for each member of the household. A home- made candle, in a corroded brass holder, occupied the center of the table. The meat and biscuits were served in heav}^ flat crock dishes. Some cold veg- etables, saved over from dinner, and some pies that had been cooked in earthen pans, were taken from a greasy pine cupboard and also placed upon the table. The molasses was in a little tin pot near the candle. The sugar was in a dark-red earthen jar with a light figured border. The milk was in a heavy crock pitcher having two iron bands. The supper being read}", Mrs. Cox takes from the shelf a large cow-bell and rings it at the kitchen door. The summons is promptly obeyed. As Mr. Cox enters the room he stops near the door where a Life of Braxton Craven. 29 pail of fresh water is resting upon a little shelf, and taking a long-handle gourd from a nail on the wall, fills his mouth, rinses it and squirts the water upon the ground. (By the way, the cup part of the gourd having been cracked, was sewed up with coarse flax thread. ) Mrs. Cox pours out the coffee and the dishes are passed around until all are helped. The daughter, Rachael, flourishes a fly-brush made of peacock feathers. The conversation turns on the amount of w^ork done in the field, the events at the school-house and the prospects for fall marketing. A bat, lured by the light, sails into the room and after a few circuits darts out of the window. Several hounds gather about the back door, some lying down and others standing up, watching every move- ment within, and endeavoring to catch the drift of the conversation. The supper is over. The Cox family are sitting in the large room on the left as you enter the house. The floor is bare. The ceiling consists simply of the floor above, resting upon large sleepers. An old clock hangs upon the wall in a gilded frame, measuring the minutes with a lazy stroke. The lower part of the clock is covered by a glass door, on which is painted a mediaeval castle. Upon the high mantle- piece is a long, narrow looking-glass in a wooden frame, on the upper part of which is painted a box- shaped house and two trees. On either end of the mantle is a heavy crock vase of mahogany color with so Life of Braxton Craven. two small white borders bringing out in relief a wreath of red flowers. An almanac hangs from a nail close by the mantle. Mr. Cox is dozing in an old-fashioned high-back, high-armed, split-bottom chair; his pipe has gone out, and the ashes and to- bacco have fallen all over his bosom. Mrs. Cox is whirling the spinning wheel. An infant lies asleep in a cradle b\^ the bed. Leaning in a back corner of the wide fire-place is a pine torch, blazing and splut- tering, and casting fantastic shadows upon the wall. Sitting on the hearth, with his back against the wall, is Brack Craven, with a book in his left hand, pon- dering over his lesson. Presently the w^heel of the spmdle stops, and Mrs. Cox yawns out a long, weary heigh-ho I and, rising, places her thread in a drawer of a black walnut bureau, which is about four feet high, smooth like a table on top, and has two large glass knobs to each drawer. Brack closes his book, and taking the torch into the yard rubs it in the ground to extinguish the flame. He returns, opens the door to the stairwa}^, straggles up the steps, and enters a little room above. He lies down upon a pallet on which Stephen is already sleeping. For a moment he looks out of the little window upon the stars that smile and Hght him to bed. Then his heavy eyes close, and the breath of distant fields that he had ploughed ruffle his hair and play upon his brow with the gentleness of a mother's touch, while the murmur of the river and the song of crick- ets lull him to sleep. Life of Braxton Craven. 31 CHAPTER VI. At the age of fifteen Brack was the chief worker on the farm, and the most trusted one. Cox felt no hesitancy in going away while Brack was on hand. On one occasion Cox made a trip on horseback to Indiana, remaining several months, and carrying with him a thousand dollars in cash, which he expected to invest in land. When he returned he related many interesting experiences, and among other things told of his having narrowly escaped being robbed, and how his having a pistol with him alone averted the misfortune. Brack, with perfect guilelessness of heart, repeated this incident to one of his neighbors, and so it w^ent the rounds. As soon as the Quakers learned of Cox's having carried a pistol they dis- owned him, as it was contrary to their faith to carry deadly weapons or fight. Cox didn't grieve much over this action of the Friends, as he was a sort of free lance anyway. Perhaps he rather enjoyed the freedom from restraint, which he now felt. Cox was in the habit of giving annual corn-shuck- in gs, to which he invited all the men of the sur- rounding country. On these occasions a table would be placed in the yard loaded down with beef and mutton stews, pumpkin pies, cakes, fruit, and so on. Brandy and whiskey would be furnished the guests by the pitcher, jug or bucketful, before and after 32 Life of Braxton Craven. eating. Some of them would become so booz}^ that they would fall over in the shucks and go to sleep before the supper, and when midnight came and the crowd dispersed, a few of them would have to be dragged into the house and laid upon the floor to sleep off their intoxication. After going to school several sessions to Byers, young Craven became very proficient in the elemen- tary branches of knowledge, and began to think of severing his connection with the Cox family. Ac- cordingl}^, he got up a subscription school of twenty- five or thirty pupils, and taught in a log house, i8x 20, at Solomon York's plantation, about three miles distant from the Cox place. Braxton was then about sixteen years old. ]\Ir. Hugh Parks, already men- tioned, was one of his pupils. Craven, he says, was an excellent teacher. He gave young Hugh a MS. con- taining every example in Pike's Arithmetic worked out in his owm handwriting, which the writer has seen. Mr. Parks was the first pupil that Craven car- ried through the intricacies of that book. While teaching this school he boarded with John Allen, whose son, H. B. Allen, the writer has interviewed. It was while boarding here that he attended a Meth- odist meeting at Salem church, and was converted under the preaching of Rev. Colin Murchison. Mr. Murchison is not now living, but his daughter, Mrs. A. M. Gresham, of Independence, Kan., sends the writer a sketch of Braxton Craven, written by her Life of Braxton Cravkn. 33 father before he died. In the sketch he refers to Braxton's conversion as follows: * * In the family of Rev. John Craven, I often saw a nephew of his, about the age of his son John Wes- ley. They were nearly always together. They had not been taking much interest in our meeting, so far as I could judge from appearances. But one morning at our prayer- meeting, I noticed these two cousins came forward together and knelt down at the front seat, near where I was standing. At the close of a prayer that was offered, I noticed they were intensely in earnest. I became deeply interested in them. I knelt down between them, laid a hand upon the shoulder of each of them. I remember now how I felt when, with all the earnestness of my entire nature, I urged those noble blood-bought souls to put their w^hole trust in the Saviour, saying 'Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted. ' 'Shall be!' 'Shall be!' I repeated with emphasis. I felt their bodies under m}^ hands quiver with emo- tion, and then they rose up, testified wdth joy and peace, that they had realized a clear, sweet sense of pardon. They felt that their load of sin and guilt was removed and they were comforted. , "The door of the Church was opened that day, and among others who joined were the two cous- ins, Braxton Craven and J. Wesley Craven. They W'Cre, I think, about fifteen years of age. In a few weeks they both developed into good Christian work- ers. Braxton was notably able in prayer. ' ' 34 Life of Braxton Craven. Mr. H. B. Allen says that Braxton was "a wonder ful man to study." He, also, was one of Craven's pupils. He relates that, one winter afternoon, Braxton got information that the boys were going to demand a "treat," and to meet the situation he went to Na- than Cox's, purchased a bag of apples, and hid them in the fork of a tree near the school-house. Next morning the door was barred, and the boys met him with a demand that he either * ' treat ' ' or submit to be tied. The rope was produced, and Craven hu- moring the joke, broke off and ran through the woods, the boys pursuing. He took care to pass by the tree where he had hid the apples. The boys seeing the bag of apples, ceased the chase and fell to eating them. In a short time the teacher came back, and the door was opened. However, he dismissed the school and joined the bo^-s in a day of frolic, run- ning, jumping, pla^dng " stick-a-my-ree," and the like. Mr. Hugh Parks says he often heard Craven at the vSpring of the school-house practicing the Scriptures by reading a chapter and repeating it by heart. He also says that Craven never used the whip. At this time the monotony of social life was occa- vSionally broken by quilting parties or cotton pick- ings, at which the young people would gather, play games, court, and otherwivSe enjoy themselves. The refreshments usually consisted of 'simmon beer and a fireplace full of roasted sweet potatoes, which LiFK OF Braxton Cravkn. 35 would be uncovered and the ashes dusted off with a turkey wing. Sometimes these entertainments would be enlivened by a fiddle or banjo. During the summer Braxton engaged himself to raise a crop of corn for Lawrence Cox, a son-in-law of Nathan. The succeeding winter he taught a six-months subscription school at Holly Spring, a few miles from Ramseur. While teaching here he boarded with Kindred Craven, which fact the writer learned from the widow now living near Climax, and also from Henry Craven, now living one mile from Ram- seur. The latter says that Craven was at his house often while teaching there. His wife saj^s she went to school with Craven to Jack Byers, and that his clothing w^as often covered over with meal. A Sun- day School was held in the school at Holly Spring w^hile Craven was teaching there, and Mr. Henry Craven says that Braxton would often repeat a whole chapter of the Bible without looking at the book. Sometime before this Braxton had been licensed to exhort, and nearly every Sunday he preached there or at some other place of meeting. 36 Life of Braxton Craven. CHAPTER VIL The zealous young exhorter was regularly licensed to preach in 1840, at Poplar Springs Church, now in the Jonesboro Circuit. Although he had not yet made much of a reputation, he out-ran the expecta- tions of his congregations and he had a few staunch admirers. One Sunday at a country gathering he was called on unexpectedly to preach, and not having an}' Bible with him he was in deep perplexity as to his sub- ject and his text. He went out into the woods and thought over a discourse, and came back and preached a very excellent sermon from this text: * ' This is not my abiding place. ' ' He stated at the time that he couTdliarsay exactly in what part of the Bible the quotation was to be found. The following Sundaj^ several who had heard him inquired about that text, and the young exhorter smilingly replied that there was no such text in the Book. On another occasion he was preaching from this text : ' ' Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right ?' ' ^ Mr. , a very enthusiastic admirer of the rising preacher, happened to be sitting on the front bench, and on this occasion he was prett}' well loaded with Nathan Cox' s liquor. Every time the preacher asked the question of the text, Mr. would nod his head in assent. Finally, when the preacher reached Life of Braxton Craven. 37 a climax and vehemently exclaimed, " Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right ?' ' the aforesaid auditor arose from his seat and exclaimed: ' ' Yes ! yes! If you sa}' so, d — d if I don't see to it." The young exhorter often preached at Mt. lycb- anon and spent the night at the Branson homestead. Braxton Craven, having saved up some money, decided to further his education by going to a Qua- ker school at New Garden, conducted b}^ Nereus Mendenhall. Mr. Kindred Craven carried Braxton part of the way in a buggy and the remainder of the journey was made afoot, with his bag of clothes and a few books over his shoulder. His wardrobe at that time was not elaborate. He had on a broad-brimmed hat of sheep's wool, a coat and trousers of blue jeans, and a pair of "stitch down" shoes, made by sewing the uppers to the sole in a way that turned the seams out instead of in, as is now done. In his bag were a few shirts and socks which had been made for him by Mrs. John Allen, with whom he had formerly boarded. Nereus Mendenhall was a man of considerable at- tainments and of devout religious character. He was a graduate of Haverford College and had taken charge of New Garden school in 1839. While teach- ing he prepared himself to enter Jefferson Medical College, from which he graduated in 1845. He practiced medicine in Guilford and Randolph, and later accepted a position as engineer on the North 38 Life of Braxton Craven. Carolina Railroad. Like other Quakers, he opposed war. He was clerk of the yearly meeting for twelve years. ^^ Braxton remained at this school two sessions, of nine months each, studying Latin, Greek, Rhetoric, Philosophy, and so on. In the summer vacation he returned to Kindred Craven's, working some for Lawrence Cox and studying and preaching. His friends noticed a decided change in his dress. He now wore a Quaker coat of black broadcloth and a fur hat. He had traded clothes with Addison Worth, one of his schoolmates. Happening at Asheboro one day, Mr. Jessie Walker, father of Mr. J. E. Walker, noticing Brax- ton's improvement in dress, said: "Young man, I see you have some aspirations. Take this advice: Don't spend j'our money on your back, spend it on your head." Little is known of his life at this school. Prof. Johnson says that he heard Craven remark, that while there he memorized the whole of Abercrombie's In- tellectual Philosophy and wrote out nearly all of his Latin translations. In a book found among his papers are eight pages of problems in Algebra, including half-dozen pages of quadratic equations, several pages of problems in surveying and many miscellaneous problems with drawings. At the end of these problems is this verse : ♦These facts taken from a memorial of Nereus Mendenhall, issued by Deep River Meeting of Friends, 8th February, '94. Life of Braxton Craven. 39 ** Here my good fellows you see I am through A book that I call a tough mensuration, And now if you listen I will tell you quite true Some parts are quite easy and some are vexation." In another part of the same book are twelve pages of translations from Jacob's Greek Reader. The book is dated 1841, the year he was at New Garden. Another book, evidently used about the same time, contains a chronological history of Ital}^ 40 Life of Braxton Craven. CHAPTER VIII. Having completed his course at New Garden, Mr. Craven, then 19 3'ears old, accepted a position as assistant teacher at Union Institute, Randolph county. The school was then conducted in a small house, near the site of the present college buildings, and was under the control of the " Union Institute Society," composed of ' ' all male parents or guardians who may send children or wards to this institute, and all stu- dents in the same of the age of 18 3'ears." In a book containing the minutes of the association are names of the following gentlemen, attached to the constitution: Wm. English, Jabez Leach, Kelly John- son, Sam'l W. Blair, John S. Brown, Lewis Leach, ^neas Elder, Zebadee Johnson, Ahijah Smith, J. M. Leach, Hugh Leach, Jas. Leach, Brantly York, Joseph Johnson, John English, Lindsaj' Lamar, Ahi Robbins, Joseph Mendenhall, Absalom Leach, Alex- ander Robbins and Pat. Hoover. The minutes of March 16, 1839, state that a com- mittee consisting of Messrs. Lewis M. Leach, Joseph Johnson and Wm. English, appointed to confer with Rev. B. York in reference to taking charge of the school, reported: "That the said Mr. York would teach school one year for $200, the employers find a house for him to live in, find fire-wood for him to burn, and find an assistant." The society resolved Life of Braxton Craven. 41 "to employ him, the said Mr. York, for their teacher the next year," At the May meeting a committee of five was appointed to devise plans for a new build- ing. Julian E. Leach and J. M. B. Leach* were asked to address a public meeting on July 4th, next — the first on American Independence, and the latter on Education. Shortly after the 4th of July meeting, a commodi- ous frame building was erected. The brick were made and burned on the present campus, and the lumber hauled by Joseph Johnson from the saw mill of Absalom Grimes, at Hamby's Creek, in David- son county, a distance of about twelve miles. B. Craven was elected teacher February 14, 1842. He rode on horseback part of the way from New Garden and walked the remainder. Mr. Tom English hap- pened to be riding along that way and he and Craven traveled by "riding and tying;" that is, one of them would ride ahead, dismount, hitch the horse to a tree and walk on, while the other, coming behind, would mount the horse, pass ahead of the pedestrian, and so on. Braxton had a small trunk w^hich was brought over in a wagon several days later. He wore a wool hat and a quaker coat of a brown color. His face was clean shaven and youthful in appearance. The first night on his arrival he spent with Mr. York, who lived in a small log house *This was the Jas. Madison I,each, afterwards so celebrated in State campaigns. 42 Life of Braxtox Craven. east of the present buildings. The next morning Craven arose before York, and not finding a looking- glass in the room, he went out in the yard where there was a large tub of water and used that for his mirror. At that time there were very few residences in the community. Among them were those of James Leach, Jos. Mendenhall and Brantley York. Brax- ton made arrangements to board with Joseph Men- denhall, who lived in a log house having two rooms on the ground floor and one above and a small room at the end of the back porch. The building stood where the present Lore house is. The price paid was $3.50 per month. The chimney was an old- fashioned one, built of rocks. The fire-place was ten feet wude and so high that one could stand up in it and see out at the top. In the back of the fire- place was a large triangular-shaped rock. The house was surrounded by elms, ~ walnuts and copals. In the rear was an orchard. Braxton occupied the little room on the porch. He slept upon a home-made bed, the mattress of which rested upon ropes. There was one small window in the room, and a shelf upon which were kept his books, clothing, etc. His name was written all over the walls. The cooking was done in the fire-place, the chief utensils being a bake-oven, which was hung upon an iron bar, and a frying-pan. Joseph Mendenhall' s daughter, now Mrs. Linthicom, furnished these facts for the writer. She often patched or mended Braxton's clothes. One day, as he was going on horseback to a religious Life of Braxton Craven. 43 meeting near High Point, she patched the elbow of his coat sleeve. She had man}^ times darned his socks. He studied by fire-light on winter nights, ' and in the summer by tallow candles. Joseph Men- denhall made a table for him which is now in the possession of his daughter, Mrs. Pegram. Young Craven entered enthusiastically into the work of teaching. After working as assistant for two years, Dr. York retired and Craven was elected to take his place. Mrs. Nancy Leach says he ' ' blushed terri- bly ' ' when told by James Leach that he had been elected principal of the school. * * The salary for the first year was $200 guaranteed and as much more as the school might earn; the total income was some- thing less than $300. After that no salary was pledged, the principal paying all expenses, fixing his own terms and regulations, and receiving the whole income."* Prof. Johnson says : " B. Craven soon announced that he would teach a night school free. Myself, then 13 3^ears of age, and several others went until we mastered all mensuration — the computation of all surfaces, solids, &c. All those subjects have been no trouble since. ' ' Rev. Brantley York afterwards wrote and pub- lished a work on ' ' English Grammar, ' ' and was elected Professor of Logic and Rhetoric at Ruther- ford College. * From a sketch in Dr. Craven's own handwriting found among his manuscripts. 44 Life of Braxton Craven. CHAPTER IX. "I have seen a very poor young man in love. His hat was old, his coat worn and out at the elbows ; the water passed through his shoes and the stars through his soul." — Victor Hugo. Prof. Craven was boarding with Joseph Menden- hall, when an incident happened which led to his marriage to Miss Irene Leach, eldest daughter of Mr. James Leach. One of the students, Mr. Gar- ner, who boarded with Tom English at the present Gannawa}' place, w^as ver}^ ill and Prof. Craven was a constant attendant at his bedside. The Professor had learned something of medicine from his in- structor, Nereus Mendenhall, and was a tender and S3^mpathetic nurse. One night Miss Irene Leach was there, by request, to relieve the household. Although she had been one of York's pupils for a 3'ear or more, and had taught in the school five months before young Craven came to the place, they had not met each other until that night. Miss Leach was then about i8 years old. She was rather spare in stature, having raven-black hair and soft gray eyes, which contrasted well with her delicate white com- plexion and rosy cheeks. There was a beauty in her face which is only seen among women in rural communities; a beauty which belongs to innocence. Life of Braxtox Craven. 45 modesty and absolute artlessness. The movement of her eyes and lips, and the whisper of her voice, evinced that simplicit}^ and sincerity which betoken absence of self-consciousness. She saw in her pres- ence the figure of a 3^oung man of robust and solid physique, with a head and bearing that indicated power, and eyes of restless brilliancy. In this first meeting there was little conversation. Only a few . words were spoken, such as the duties of the occa^ sion demanded. But perhaps they comrnunicated in silence more than either was aware of. Miss Leach saw in him the elements of great power which phi- j losophers tell us are the qualities most attractive to women. He saw in her the deep sincerity and trust- ing eyes which philosophers tell us are most attrac- tive to men. Love-making is not alone by words and phrases. It has a language which is silent, but at the same time capable of easy interpretation. Words only facilitate, or, at best, serve as a seal to the con- tract after the confession is made. Prof. Craven and Miss Leach found many excuses for being together after this formal introduction. The country church was five or six miles distant. Some of the people of the community went on horse- back and others walked. Miss Leach being a good rider, (she had several times gone alone to the mill), usually went on horseback. Prof. Craven some- times rode on horseback, but more frequently footed it. Whether riding or walking, he managed to keep 46 Life of Braxton Craven. in sight of ]Miss Leach. Miss Mendenhall, now Mrs. Linthicom, daughter of Mr. Joseph Mendenhall, with whom Prof. Craven was then boarding, states that the latter often preached at different countr}- gather- ings, and that he would leave the house in the fore- noon on Sundays, taking his dinner along, and not return until late in the evenings. Many of the women, she says, walked to these meetings barefooted, carry- ing their shoes in their hands and putting them on just before entering the church. By the way, has not our race lost something in hardihood by abandoning the old custom of going barefooted ? What has been gained in health or aesthetic effect by swaddling the feet. in cloth and leather? Prof. Craven and Miss Leach walked together many afternoons. Once they went on horseback to a wedding eight miles distant, and on several occa- sions made trips to Jamestown! On September 26th, 1844, about a 5^ear and a half from their first meet- ing, they w^ere united in marriage. The ceremony was performed by Rev. W. S. Chappin, at the resi- dence of the bride's parents. The event took place ' * at candle light. ' ' There were several waiters in attendance, and among them Jackson Craven, one of Prof. Craven's friends from the lower part of the county, where he was raised: also Nathan Garner, father of the student whose ill- ness occasioned the first meeting of Prof. Craven and Miss Leach. The attendants stood in a circle around Life of Braxton Craven. 47 the room, and the bride and groom and preacher in the centre. The groom was dressed in a blue ' * hawk- tail coat ' ' and black satin vest. The coat was short in front, somewhat like the modern vest, with two narrow strips, each about five inches wide and eigh- teen inches long, hanging down behind, forming the tail. His pants were made of dark wool cloth, having straps run under his shoes, and buttoned at the bottom of each trouser, to hold them down. Pants in those da3^s would bag at the knee or rise upon the slightest provocation. His neck was buried in a large white collar, which, being attached to his shirt, folded over a high ' ' neck stock. ' ' The ' ' neck stock ' ' was a stiff cloth ' ' contraption ' ' designed to take the place of starch. The large collar folded over it in a way that obscured it from view. His shoes were home-made "welted," the seam fasten- ing the sole to the upper being turned in instead of out, as was the shoe for every-da\^ w^ear. He had a tall new beaver hat, which he was ready and perhaps anxious to put on. The other gentlemen were dressed pretty much like the groom, excepting Mr. Jackson Craven, who was splurging in a gray * ' hawk tail ' ' and white beaver hat. The bride was dressed in a sky blue ' ' drawed back ' ' waist, so called from being fastened behind, and made of "tissue cloth," a sort of combination of wool and silk. The sleeves were tight, and the skirt plain and straight. She wore a purple wool hat, having a long- protruding brim and 48 Life of Braxton Craven. low flat crown, with very few "fixings." Some of the lady attendants were dressed in blue homespun and others in figured calico. At the conclusion of the ceremony, supper was served, consisting of chicken, mutton, beef, cake, pies, fruit and coffee. After the guests dispersed, the ' 'bell' ' party stealth- il}' assembled in the yard, (made up of all the bo3's in the community who hadn't been invited to the wed- ding). The3^ brought along dinner-horns, cow-bells, sheep-bells, tin-pans, and other instruments of tor- ture. One of these instruments was called the "dumb-bull." It was a tin can with a raw-hide stretched over one end and a rosined string run through the center of the hide. By pulling the string rapidly through the hide, a noise would be produced, the most horrible known to human ear. At a given signal all the instruments broke forth into a hideous medley, which was kept up a good portion of the night. Life of Braxton Craven. 49 CHAPTER X. What tho' on hamely fare we dine, Wear hodden-grey, and a' that, Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine, A man's a man, for a' that : For a' that, and a' that. Their tinsel show and a' that, The honest man, tho' e'er sae poor, Is king o' men for a' that. — Robert Burns. The newl3^-wedded couple resided at the home of the bride's parents for several months. A few weeks after Prof. Craven left the Menden- hall family Mr. Mendenhall became ill. Prof. Cra- ven was a frequent visitor at the old man's bedside, and was present and holding his hand when the last breath was breathed. Several days after the inter- ment Craven returned to the place and cut, raked and shocked a field of hay, as a favor to the widow and daughter. Mrs. Linthicom, daughter of Mr. Mendenhall, furnished these facts for the writer. She is still living, though blind. Professor and Mrs. Craven, about the first of Jan- uary, set up house-keeping in a two-room log cabin, located within a stone's throw of the present college, to the northeast. One room was used as a sleeping apartment and the other for cooking and general 50 Life of Braxton Craven. rendezvous. There was no stove, and the cooking was done in the old-fashioned way in skillets, ovens and pans. The dinner table was made of pine wood, covered over with oilcloth. The commonest table- ware was used, such as black-handled knives and forks, heav}' crock plates and cups. Table-board was furnished for eight or ten students. Mrs. Cra- ven was assisted in her work by a hired negro girl, and later by a white girl. A little shed on the back of the house served as a pantry. Water was ob- tained from a spring below the house. Prof. Craven cut the firewood in the afternoons. The sleeping apartment was supplied with the simplest furnishings. The floor was bare. The two small windows were without curtains or blinds. The bed was built of pine, which had received a coat of brown paint. There was a neat bureau in one cor- ner, which was the gift of the wife's mother. A small table behind the door served as a washstand, on which was a bucket and tin vessel. The first rocking chair brought into the house was one which Prof. Craven purchased from an old darkey some months after the marriage. The first child, Emma, was born in this cabin. After living here two years. Prof. Craven purchased a farm southeast of the in- stitute. For a while he lived on this farm in a log house, but soon built a two-story frame building, which now constitutes the rear part of the Ganna- way house. Here he raised provisions and some Life of Braxton Craven. 51 stock. The first thing he did on rising in the morn- ing was to go immediately to the barn to feed. However, he was not an early riser, as he usually kept late hours at night. He made it a rule never to study before breakfast, but his mind never rested at any other portion of the day. He read Rollin's history through the second time, in going to and from the college, a distance of half mile. He was assisted in the farm work by a hired negro man, while Mrs. Craven was assisted in her work by a negro girl. Besides these helps, other servants were employed from time to time, one of them, a negro man, who ran away and carried with him the keys of the insti- tute. The second child, James, was born at this place. Prof. Craven was very fond of his children, and helped to nurse them, especially when they were sick. It was his practice to hold family prayers at night. He kept a horse and buggy, and often took the family to ride. He liked fier}^ steeds, and always drove at a rapid rate. 52 Life of Braxton Craven. CHAPTER XL ^'^ "In January, 1851, the institution was rechar- tered by the Legislature, and was named Normal College. The chief intent of this change was to secure a higher grade of teachers for common and higher schools, and to furnish a better guarantee of their acquirements and qualifications than could be done b}' the ill-prepared and unpaid boards of exam- iners in the different counties. ' ' By the charter the certificate of the college was made lawful evidence of qualification to teach, and no further examination was required. The good sought was to some extent realized, but the influ- ence upon the institution was exceedingly' injurious, and continued long after to effect its fortunes ad- versely. Young men with a mere elementary edu- cation, with little mental development or discipline, and often without those social influences that are the best foundation for elegant culture, went forth bear- ing a Normal certificate and authorized to teach any common school in the State. ' ' Coming from an institution having the name of a college, they were unjustly but generally compared witli the regularly educated students of other col- leges, frequently with damaging and sometimes with *Continuation of the sketch by Dr. Craveu. Life of Braxton Craven. 53 destructive effect. These crude young teachers, having generally no higher ambition than to teach a few terms of a country primary school, and some- times not even qualified for that, could not pretend adequately to represent either the scholarship or cul- ture of the institution. An equitable criticism could not have pretended that they were exponents of Normal. Yet such affirmations were unsparingly made and emphasized, both by those who knew bet- ter and those who did not. ''The exclusive Normal feature was unfortunate, and it required years of toil and patience to overcome the evil. The same misfortune still applies to the preparatory department in Trinity. Many students never engage in any but primary studies. Before these are completed they either so fail as to justify their discontinuance, or are forced by other circum- stances to leave the institution; yet they are some- times referred to as samples of Trinity's best culture. Since 185 1 not one-tenth of the matriculates have graduated; 3^et all are called Trinity students, the failures equally with the successes. The only fair estimate is to compare Trinity students, grade for grade, with others, and on this basis Trinity will have high position." The Columbian Literary Society was organized in 1846 and the Hesperian Society in 1850. Mr. J. W. Alspaugh was a prime mover in the latter Society, and was very active in securing books for the young 54 Life of Braxton Craven. library, then in its infancy. By this time the col- lege had entered upon an era of great prosperit}'. ^"From 1843 to 1850 the gross income varied from $300 to §1,800, making a general average of about $1,200. The number of students that matric- ulated annually during this time varied from 28 to 184, the general average being about 105. The amount of earnings lost during these seven years was §980, an average of $140 per annum; the amount given to indigent young men was $1,570, giving an annual average of a little more than $224. The number of conversions at the various religious ser- vices in the Academy during the seven years was about 300; the number expelled from the school was 8, and the number of deaths was 4. During this time the school became very popular, and though difficult of access, was patronized by nearly all parts of this State, and largely from Virginia and South Carolina. The moral character of the Academy was eminently good, and the young men then educated have been marked for their usefulness and worth as citizens." While imparting knowledge to others. Prof. Cra- ven was feeding his own mind by constant study. He had an impressible, comprehensive and retentive mind, and he needed to see a thing only once to un- derstand and remember it. The facility with which he mastered the various branches of learning, made *Continuation of Dr. Craven's sketch. Life of Braxton Craven. 55 the pursuit of them a fascinating labor. It was sel- dom that he retired before midnight. He continued his study of Greek, Latin and Hebrew. He read and digested books on biology, botany, zoology, chemistry, geology, mytholog}^, philosophy, law, and political economy. He was especially apt in mathematics, and spent much time in working and writing out problems in trigonometry and calculus. Among the works which he left in his librarj^ is a book of some fifty or more pages containing problems that he had worked in calculus. In addition to these pursuits he read a good deal of history, such as Gibbon's History of Rome, and Hume' s History of England. At an early age he had read all of Scott's and Cooper's novels. Scott was his favorite romancer, and his wife says that he read with such speed that he annoyed her b}' turning over the leaves. He had also read Milton, Shakespeare, Dickens, Byron, Burns, %ulwer, Irving and many books of travels. In 1850, Prof. Craven desiring to obtain a degree, asked permission to stand an examination for a diploma at Randolph Macon College. The request was granted, however, not without some reluctance. The examination was not at all superficial In Greek he was tested on the 6th book of Homer's Iliad, and in Mathematics he was required to work a number of intricate problems in calculus. He got into a con- troversy wath the examiner on one of the problems, and after considerable wrangling the examiner 56 Life of Braxton Craven. ackowledged that the problem jvas correctly solved. The degree was conferred. The following year the degree of A. M. was conferred b}^ the Universlty^f North Carolina^ ^ He was ordained Deacon at Louisburg, by Bishop Capers, in 1852, and Elder at Greensboro, Novem- ber, 1856, b}' Bishop Earl3^ Later he received the degree of D. D. from Andrew College, Tennessee, and LL. D. from the University of Missouri. ^"At the Salisbury session of the North Carolina Conference, in 1851, the first connection between the College and the Conference was effected. The Trus- tees made propositions to the Conference which were accepted. The College was to educate young men preparing for the ministry without charge, and the Conference endorsed the College and annually ap- pointed a visiting committee. This relation gave the Conference neither ownership nor control, but inau- gurated a mutual co-operation that was eminentl}'' beneficial. "In 1853, the charter was amended giving the College full power to confer any and all degrees and do all other acts usual to literar}^ institutions of high grade. This was really its commencement as a Col- lege, and from that time till the war, its success was steadily onward. ' ' The amended charter directed the Literary Board of the State to loan the Trustees $10,000 upon ♦Continuation of Dr. Craven's sketch. Life of Braxton Craven. 57 execution of an acceptable bond for the same. To procure proper securities for that amount, with no available property as a guarantee, and no person giv- ing the matter any consideration except the Presi- dent, was a work of great difficulty. The Trustees assumed no personal responsibility; they simply ex- ecuted the ordinary routine official work. For some- time it appeared that the loan could not be secured. Finalh* Hon. John A. Gilmer, then a Trustee, and one of the most active and efficient friends the insti- tution had in these days of darkness, proposed to sign the bond, provided the President would sign it, and procure the signatures of five other responsible gentlemen. The other signers were obtained, the money secured and suitable buildings were erected. (The first brick building, now known as the old part of the College, was erected with this money. ) Up to that time the College lived and flourished with the most inferior and inefficient buildings and accommo- dations. ' ' 58 Life of Braxtox Craven. CHAPTER XII. In 1853 Prof. Craven sold his farm and built a new home on some land given by Mr. James Leach adjoining the campus. During the erection of the building, he lived in a two-room house behind the new one. His new residence, a sketch of which is here presented, was his home until he died. Here were born to him two other children, William and Catherine. Soon after coming to this house he RESIDENCE OF DR. CRAVEN AT TRINITY COLLEGE. bought a negro slave, Isum, and retained him two years after the war. He also bought two women. Dinah and Ann; the latter, then fourteen years old, remained with the family five years after the sur- render. He continued to farm at his new place, raising a Life of Braxton Craven. 59 few staples, some stock, chickens and vegetables. He was very fond of animals of all sorts and espe- cially dogs. One summer afternoon, during a severe storm, he was sitting tilted back in a cane-bottom chair reading a book, when a heavy clap of thunder frightened his dog and caused it to run in the house and under the Doctor's chair, which upset and sent him sprawling upon the floor. In 1853, several years after the institute was changed to a college. Prof. Craven went on a trip to New York to purchase supplies of books, stationery, and other things necessary for the school. Prior to this time he had never been outside of the State, although he had been to Raleigh and Fayetteville. His wife accompanied him on this trip. They traveled in a private conveyance to Dr. Coffin's, which is now Jamestown, stopping there for dinner. Here they were joined by Mrs. Coffin, who was going on to see her daughter, then in Philadelphia, and also by Zimri Coffin, a photographer by profes- sion, and a great friend of Prof. Craven. Zimri was a particularly good companion to have along, for he was a close observer and a lively and witty conver- sationalist. He was a great jester and story teller, and he found in Prof. Craven a keen appreciation of his peculiar genius. The party proceeded to Greens- boro in the afternoon, where they remained until two o'clock next morning. Then taking a four-horse stage, they proceeded on their journey, stopping at 6o Life of Braxton Craven. Mc Adams, near Danville, for breakfast, and cross- ing the river, proceeded to Keysville, where they boarded the train for Washington. The party spent a day in Washington, visiting the Capitol, White House, and other public buildings. The next day they arrived in Philadelphia. Mrs. Coffin and Zimri stopped with a relative, Stephen Coffin, a merchant of that city; Prof. Craven and wife stopped at a hotel. The latter two were invited to dine with Stephen Coifin on the da^^ after their arrival. The party, engineered by Zimri, "took in the town." They visited the park, Laurel Hill cemeter}-, the water works, fire department, Girard College, and other places of interest. Prof. Craven had been wearing on this trip a beaver hat and white necktie, but knowing that clerg37men were not allowed to enter Girard College, he put on a black cravat as a ruse for this occasion. They also visited Ruth Jess, who made Quaker bonnets for the Friends in North Carolina. At night they all attended a ministrel show at one of the theatres. Mrs. Coffin, her daughter, and Zimri, went with Prof. Craven and wife to New York City. Prof. Cra\'en made most of his purchases from Ivenson & Finley. While in the city they visited many places of interest. Among the incidents of the trip, it is recalled that Zimri, happening to run short of cash, replenished his purse by taking a few chances at a faro bank, and that Prof. Craven, while walking Life of Braxton Craven. 6i down Broadway, saw a society woman shot to death in the street. Professor and Mrs. Craven returned home by rail to Weldon, and thence via stage through Hillsboro to a point on the road about eight miles from Trin- ity, where they were met by a private conveyance, which carried them back to the college. Dr. Craven was a model husband, and has set a good example for others. He was always attentive and devoted to his wife. He seldom made a trip anywhere without inviting her to go with him. She accompanied him to New York City, and later to Washington, once to the General Conference at At- lanta, and quite often to the District and State Con- ferences. He disHked solitude at any time, and even when he went fishing he insisted upon her going along, which she often did, sitting on the bank knitting while he was pulling in the fish. 62 Life of Braxton Craven. CHAPTER XIII. '^ " In 1856 the Trustees again made propositions to the Conference, which were accepted. By this arrangement the property was transferred to the Conference, and the Conference, through Trustees of its own election, had full control. The transfer was not fully effected until 1858, and in 1859, by an Act of the Legislature, the college was fully and finally vested in the Conference, with all the rights and privileges usual in such cases. By the same Legis- lative act the name was changed to Trinity. * * From the commencement till this time the Gov- ernor of the State was ex officio President of the Board of Trustees, and the superintendent of the common schools was Secretary, thus connecting the college with the State. By the Act of 1859, this connection was severed, all Normal features annulled, and the institution became a regular denominational college, belonging to the North Carolina Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South." Col. J. \V. i\lspaugh, a staunch supporter and de- voted friend of Dr. Craven, advised him not to turn over the property to the Conference, for the reason that it was the product of his own labor, and in case of his death none of it would be available for his widow and children. According to Dr. Craven's * Continuation of Dr. Craven's sketch. LiFK OF Braxton Cravkn. 63 report to the Conference, the College building, grounds, apparatus, libraries, etc. , at the time were worth $30,000. However, Dr. Craven, being very hopeful of the future, thought that by turning over the property to the Conference greater interest would be taken in the institution, leading to the erection of more buildings and securing a handsome endowment. ^ " From 1853 to 1859, the average number of ma- triculations was 187 ; the average gross income about $5 , 000. The losses for six years were $ i , 340 , an aver- age of $223 per annum. The gratuitous tuitions afforded amounted to $2,700, an annual average of $450. During this period of six years the number of deaths was five; expulsions eight; number of con- versions 360, and so far as known 284 joined the M. E. Church, South, and 16 joined other churches. This period embraced the whole of the Normal his- tory, was marked by fierce opposition from adherents to old opinions and ideas ; had as yet no force of alumni to defend and sustain it, and could really rest upon nothing but merit. The Conference was divided in favor, a part of the members naturally adhering to older institutions and associations, and hence Nor- mal as the college was then called, had a hard but victorious life. " From 1859 to 1862 the average number of mat- riculations annually was 204; the gross income, $7,- 500 per annum; losses, $380; gratuitous tuition, $830. * Continuation of Dr. Craven's sketch. 64 Life of Braxton Craven. During the whole time, expulsions were 5, deaths 3, conversions 1 65 . These were b}' far the most prosper- ous years the college has ever had; current expenses were paid fully and prompth^ oppositions had died awa}', agents appointed by the Conference were readil}^ receiving ample funds for elegant and com- modious buildings. Some gentlemen were propos- ing to inaugurate a handsome endowment, and every- thing was favorable for a secure foundation of endur- ing prosperity. B}^ the war all was changed. ' ' During the war the exercises of the institution were continued with a variable but constantly de- creasing number of students. In 1863, the President resigned, and was stationed for two years at Eden- ton vStreet Church, in the cit}^ of Raleigh. Prof. Gannaway was placed in charge as President pro tem- pore, and continued with a small number of students till the arrival of Gen. Hardee's corps in April, 1865. The exercises were then closed ' ' Among Dr. Craven's papers is a report of the action of the Building Committee, appointed October 16, i860, the members of which were N. F. Reid, N. H. D. Wilson, Jas. Leach, B. F. Steed, Kelly Johnson and B. Craven. The committee "resolved that the con- tract for the new building be awarded to J. W. Holt, of Warrenton, which he undertakes to execute, ac- cording to specifications, for the sum of $14,000." The breaking out of the war, however, put an end to the building project. Life of Braxton Craven. 65 In his report to the Trustees, June, 1861, Dr. Craven recommended ' ' estabhshing a MiHtary De- partment in connection with the college; to retain the same mode of government as at present, but to have an efficient, well organized military department, as an extra in cost, to be open to all who may wish to join. To meet the demands of the times, and pre- suming upon the approval of the Trustees, I have already agreed to have a military school at the col- leg* during the vacation, and the prospect is good for a large class. ' ' The suggestion was adopted and the military feature added. Dr. Craven was for a short time connected with the Salisbury prison, and in response to a letter of inquiry addressed to the Secretary of War, reply was made as follows : * ' The Confederate archives, on file in this office, show that Captain B. Craven was in command of the post at Salisbury, North Carolina, December 20, 1861, and that he was relieved by Capt. A. C. Godwin, between January 7th and nth, 1862. Neither the exact date of his appointment nor the date he was relieved has been found of record. ' ' Captain Craven received the first prisoners that were consigned to that post. He exerted himself to make the prisoners comfortable, and though he re- mained in charge but a short time, he displayed that humanity which characterized him in every other station in hfe. During a portion of Dr. Craven's pastorate in Raleigh the city was overrun with Fed- 66 Life of Braxtox Craven. eral soldiers, and life was made quite unpleasant for all Confederates. However, it chanced that among the soldiers in the city was an officer who had been a prisoner under Captain Craven at Salisbury, and he was especially attentive and considerate of Dr. Craven on account of kindness received at his hands. He put a horse at Dr. Craven's service, and showed him other evidences of appreciation. When Dr. Cra- ven returned to Trinity College he had a pocket full of ' ' shinplasters ' ' which he said the Federal soldiers had given him. In the report written by Dr. Craven to the Trus- tees, June 17, 1862, no mention is made of his con- nection with the Salisbury post, and no allusion to the military school, which continued in operation until Dr. Craven resigned the presidency of the col- lege, in 1863, to accept an appointment to preach at Edenton Street Church in the city of Raleigh. In the fall of 1865 Dr. Craven was re-elected presi- dent, and he proceeded immediatel3' to repair and reopen the institution. The doors were opened in Jan- uary-, 1866, with only a few students, but with good prospects for the future. The financial condition of the college was the best in its histor3^ The college had no liabilities except about four hundred dollars. The money borrowed from the Literary Board, and for the repayment of which Dr. Craven, J. A. Gilmer, J. W. Thomas, Dr. Coffin and Kelly Johnson were sureties, had been liquidated. In his report to the Life of Braxton Craven. 67 Trustees, in 1866, Dr. Craven said: "In 1864, on the 30th day of July, I paid the debt to the Literary Board, and paid it exclusively with my own money. I now hold the bond against the corporation, just as it was held by the State, ''^ ^ * but, for the present, it in no way troubles the trustees, as I am not claiming any interest. ' ' The patronage of the college rapidly increased, and by the year 1870 the matriculates numbered over two hundred. In 1871, however, there was a sud- den falling off in attendance. Dr. Craven was op- pressed. In his diary, under date of January 7th, he writes: "I have been overpaying board accounts, which has been one reason of my oppression. ' ' The president handled a good deal of money for the stu- dents, and it was the practice of the people who took boarders to call upon him for advances when they were pressed for money. On the same date he writes, " As a whole I over- paid the Faculty last summer. ' ' January nth: " I do not see how we shall suc- ceed, but somehow I beHeve we will. The God of my boyhood will not forsake me now. ' ' January i8th: "Paid the Faculty in full for last session. * ^' I am paying them more than the income of the college. But I intend to act the part of a man. Some day my acts will show for them- selves." January 24th: ' ' Paid the Faculty on this session iioo each." 68 Life of Braxton Craven. January 13th: He enumerates several needs of the college, and among them new buildings. "I see what is needed, but do not know how to procure it." The demand for more ample accommodations be- came urgent, and the proposition to erect a large new building was again revived. The matter was pre- sented to the Conference in 1871 in the form of a request for a fund of $10,000. Each member of the church was asked to give one dollar, and " that all the preachers be earnestly requested to act as agents, ' ' etc. The Conference agreed to make an effort to raise this sum. The Trustees at once set to work to have the building erected. It was ascertained that the cost by contract of such a building as desired would be $20,000, but that about one-fourth could be saved by hiring men to do the work by the day. The latter idea was adopted. The plans and specifi- cations were drawn up by Dr. Craven according to mathematical principles, and he ordered and inspected all the materials and superintended the construction. The funds for the building-came in slowly, and con- sequently the completion of the building was re- tarded. The building was still in progress in 1873, and not until two years later was it far enough along to use. In 1875 the first commencement was held in the new chapel, which proved to be one of the best auditoriums in the country. Dr. Craven in his report to the Trustees in 1874, said: "The whole cost thus far is about $11,000. Life of Braxton Craven. 69 To meet this I have borrowed $5,675- ^ have re- ceived from agents and other donations $2,600." The final completion of the building entailed a cost of about $14,000. The available resources for meet- ing this were subscription notes aggregating about $10,000, the cash value of which was not half of that sum. In 1877 the President reported that the collections from these notes for the year ' ' amounted to $595.27, and payments made by me to meet posi- tive necessities and claims due have amounted to $1,249.50, hence I have advanced $654.23, which to me has been very inconvenient." The debt then remaining was $9,725.00. The paper subscriptions were $8,000, whose cash value was judged to be not exceeding $3,000 or $4,000. From this time until his death this debt was a source of great vexation. Having no endowment fund, and having to keep up repairs, pay the salaries of the professors, and all contingent expenses (including traveling of Trus- tees), out of the receipts from students, the closest economy was necessary;- and very often pressing claims entailed great personal sacrifices on the part of himself and faculty. However, at no time did he place greater sacrifices upon his co-workers than upon himself. The salaries were fixed by the Trus- tees, and the income was to be pro rated accordingly every year. In 1875 the Treasurer's report showed that Dr. Craven was underpaid, while three of the Professors were overpaid. Ini 877 the report showed 70 Life of Braxtox Craven. that he was again underpaid and all the other Pro- fessors overpaid. Although his salar}" was $500 more per annum than the others, the average salaries actually paid from 1870 to 1878 were as follows: Craven, $737. 10; Gannaway, $719. 10; Carr, $733.84; Johnson, $773.27; Pegram for three years as tutor, $488.87. ^'^ " From 1866 to 1876 the average number of matriculations was 156; gross annual income, $6,000; losses, $340; gratuitous tuition, $620; for the whole time: deaths 4, expulsions 4, conversions 332. " From the first, a period of thirtj-four years, the statistics are as follows: Losses, $6,060; gratuitous tuition, $11,300; deaths at college, 13; expulsions, 25; conversions, 1,157. The whole number of gradu- ates is 198; of these 78 have received A. M., 34 are lawyers; ph3^sicians, 13; preachers, 28; teachers and professors in colleges, 25. Of the whole number 23 have died, 13 of whom were killed in the war. Fif- teen of the graduates are members of the North Caro- lina Conference, and thirt} -six (being over one-fifth of the whole Conference) were educated in whole or in part at Trinity. ' ' The honorary- degree of Master of Arts has been conferred upon fifteen persons, Doctor of Divinity upon thirteen, and Doctor of Laws upon two. "The professors have been as follows: Rev. A. S. Andrews, D. D., 1851 to 1854; Hon. W. M. Rob- * Continuation of Dr. Craven's sketch. Life of Braxton Craven. 71 bins, A. M., 1851 to 1854; L. Johnson, A. M., 1855 to the present; J. L. Wright, A. M., 1855 to 1865; W. T. Gannaway, A. M. , 1857 to the present; ^--O. W. Carr, A. M., 1863 to the present; Rev. Peter Doub, D. D., 1866 to 1870; W. C. Doub, A. M., 1867 to 1873; J. W. Young, Esq., 1864 to 1865; Rev. W. H. Pegram, A. M., 1865 to the present. "The following have been tutors: L. Johnson, A. M., 1853 to 1855; O. W. Carr, A. M., 1855 to 1863; Rev. J. H. Robbins, A. M., 1855 to 1859; R. H. Skeene, A. M., 1858 to i860; L. W. Andrews, A. M., i860 to 1863; R. S. Andrews, A. M., 1870 to 1871 ; Rev. J. K. Tucker, A. M., 1871 to 1872; Rev. W. H. Pegram, A. M., 1873 to 1875. * ' The college owns seventeen acres of land that cost $12,000, buildings worth $35,000, and furniture and apparatus to the value of $3,000. There are four libraries, containing over ten thousand volumes and worth at least $10,000. The buildings are two, united together, substantially built of brick, three stories high, covered with iron, and nearly the same as new\ For at least two hundred students the accommodations are ample in lecture rooms, society halls, libraries, museum and everything that can be required. The Chapel is perhaps the best auditorium in the country, both for the speaker and the hearer. It will pleasantly seat two thousand persons, and is *J. D. Hodges, A. M., entered the faculty after the resignation of Professor Carr. 72 Life of Braxton Craven. so perfect in acoustics, ventilation and arrangement that a much larger number might be accommodated, each seeing the speaker without obstruction, hearing distinctly, and suffering no inconvenience from im- pure air." In '78 the Conference Committee on Education reported that ' * over and above all liabilities the prop- erty- of the college is, at cost value, worth over S30,- 000, and yet not more than $5, 000 from all sources has been received by the college in donations. Hence, the institution has not only paid the faculty and all current expenses, but has in some way contributed largely to the real property. This is not onl}^ unu- sual, but it is unique in the histor}^ of male colleges, and is perhaps the only instance of the kind among American Institutions. ' ' I/iFE OF Braxton Craven. 73 o o r C/3 ha JIBES' "J^ ,' *i ^ 74 Life of Braxtox Cravex, CHAPTER XV. Dr. Craven was a great lover of the newspaper, and for many years he was a subscriber to one of the Xew York dailies. The Herald and Evening Post were his favorites. He had a keen interest in all phases of life, and used to remark to his students that he read everything in the newspapers, including the advertisements. He was one of the busiest of men. While not en- gaged in ofhce work or in the class-room, he was at home writing lectures, reading, working out some problems in mathematics, or out in the field looking after the farm. He made calculations every 3"ear for Turner ' s Alma- nac. In 1 869 he got into a controversy with a govern- ment official at Washington, as to whether a certain eclipse of that year would cover the city of Raleigh. Dr. Craven took the affirmative, and forced his oppo- nent to agree with him. He was the general counsellor for the whole Trinity community. When neighbors got into any feuds or legal entanglements, the}' went at once to consult Dr. Craven. He settled many difficulties and kept manj^ scandals out of court. He wrote many wills, and in the transferring of property he often drew the deeds, without charging a cent for the service. He also surveyed land. Prof. Gannaway Life of Braxton Craven. 75 says he surveyed a tract for him, for which no pay was ever asked. His judgment was not only sought on matters of this sort, but also in regard to farm- ing. He would advise as to whether it were better to plant corn or cotton now or next week, or whether to cut wheat to-day or to-morrow. He loved agri- culture and always felt a deep interest in its progress and problems. For a number of years he was an active member of a farmers' club. He kept all the accounts of the college himself, including the manage- ment of the book and stationery department. The last six or seven years of his life he used an electric stereotyping machine for duplicating manuscripts, etc. Ver}^ often he would copy off the questions for all the other professors during the week of examina- tions. His office consisted of two rooms, the front one being his library, for writing and consulting; the rear one for stationery and plunder. A large book- case with glass doors stretched along one side of both rooms. A dull, coarse carpet covered the floor. His desk occupied the centre of the room. He sat in a large movable chair, with his back to an open fireplace. He not only did a great deal of work, but it was often said of him that he could do tw^o things at the same time. On coming into the office, one would see him bending over his desk, writing with great speed (and few men could write faster or more gracefully). He would glance up to see w^ho was present, without ceasing the movement of his pen. 76 Life of Braxton Craven. "Well, what is it Smith?" he would say, and all during the conversation he would continue writing away and chewing tobacco, and apparently giving no heed whatever to what was said. Now and then he would turn in his chair to spit in the fire-place. He was a sort of jack of all trades, and whenever there was a broken pane of glass, a faultj^ lock, or disjointed door or window, he knew exactly how to fix it. In the farming seasons, he was often about the fields giving precise directions as to how things should be planted, ploughed, and reaped. The writer has several times seen him, with coat off, sowing wheat. He understood all about farm ma- chinery, and he could mend a harrow or plough, or a broken piece of harness, with wonderful ease and quickness. There was little about practical farming or blacksmithing or carpentry that he did not know b}' experience. He had made many barrels, ax- handles, hoe-handles, shingles, harrows, spokes, horse-shoes and ploughs. Dr. Craven had one striking peculiarity. He often passed people on the streets and on the campus without speaking or lifting his eyes from the ground. It was very rare that he spoke to a student outside of his office. Even in passing professors in the halls of the college he w^ould often not notice them. A good many people could not understand this, and some of them thought it was done to awe and com- mand respect, while others thought it was natural IviFK OF Braxton Craven. 77 indifference to manners. Neither of these views is probably correct. He was what some people call absent-minded. Whatever engaged his mind occa- sioned great intensiveness of application; so much so that he was often unconscious of the objects that passed before his eyes. He used to say that he solved many problems while following behind the plough. When not in a "brown study," he was as open and sportive in disposition as a man could be. "He personally conducted a class in gymnastics," writes an alumnus, * ' and was an enthusiastic believer in all manly sports. It was a sight worth seeing to behold him, after the regular day's work was done, the volunteer leader of a large number of students, himself near sixty years of age, taking a half hour's brisk exercise with arms and legs and lungs. These exercises were in a large room under the new chapel, and were always well attended." Those who associated closely with him know that he was in nowise lacking in manners, polish, or the amenities of life. On the contrary, he was admired everywhere for his easy dignity of bearing, and the felicity and charm of his conversation. In moments of abandonment, or in company an3'where, no one could be freer from stiffness. There was a playful smile upon his face, and a flash from his eye, which gave his face a fascinating light. His wide range of knowledge, experience and observation made him at home in any conversation. He talked with great 78 Life of Braxtox Cravex. fluency, and threw into his conversation that aptness of iUnstration and good-natured humor which enli- vened his lectures in the class-room. But he was never pedantic, forward or vain. While modest and reserved, he had that ease of bearing and sparkle of the eye which characterize a man who is conscious of his own great powers. He was a man of striking personal appearance, being somewhat short and heavy set, with a massive head, well rounded and covered with thick black hair. His forehead was high and prominent, shading his dark, deep-set eyes. His nose was straight, but rather short and broad. He had a thin, classic lip, which was always clean shaven. On his chin he wore a short, chubby beard. The lines and muscles about his eyes and mouth ex- pressed strength, and his countenance in repose was hard and severe. He usually attired himself in a black Prince Albert coat, a turn-down collar, black cravat, and silk hat. Mr. D. L. Clark, an artist of High Point, painted an excellent portrait of him, which is now in the Hesperian Literary Societ}^ In any company and at any time, he attracted attention and commanded respect. On his trips North he met from time to time a number of eminent men. He visited the White House several times and talked with President Grant. Coming out of a public building one day, he was mistaken for the Presi- ^ dent himself. Later, he accompanied a party of / students to W^ashington and visited President Hayes. Life of Braxton Craven. 79 A member of the part 3^ said that ' ' he took on a good deal with Mrs. Ha3"es. ' ' On other trips he met and conversed with Beecher and Talmage. He was especial!}' pleased with Beecher and Grant, both of whom impressed him as being verj^ powerful men. By the way, Dr. Craven was a great admirer of power and personal force in an}- one. Dr. Talmage delivered the commencement address at Trinit}- Col- lege on two occasions — once in 1875 and again in 1 88 1 . Cordial relations existed between Craven and Talmage up to the former's death, when the latter sent a telegram of sympathy to the widow. f Among his staunchest friends were Senator Vance, / Judge Pearson and Gov. Holden, whom he came to know well during his residence in Raleigh. The commencement occasions at Trinity were alwaj^s largel}' attended. Members of the alumni and friends of the institution came from all parts of the State, while the people of Randolph poured in from all quarters — some in covered wagons, some in carriages and buggies, and man}" on foot. The groves about the college on such occasions were full of wagons and horses. The new chapel, with a seating capacity of two thousand, never accommo- dated the throngs that pressed for entrance. A feature of commencement for many j^ears was the * * Annual Reception ' ' given by the students the night after graduation. The campus was lighted up, and long tables were placed in rows and loaded with So Life of Braxton Craven. edibles to accommodate from three to five hundred people. Tickets of invitation were issued, and taken up at the gates, while guards were stationed along the campus fence to exclude intruders. There were alwaj^s some rowdies in the village at such times, and they sometimes leaped over the fences and raided the banquet tables. The crowds became so large, and the expense to the students so heavy (often amounting to $io a head), that the open-air spread was abandoned, and the reception confined to the senior class and its friends, and held within doors. Life of Braxton Craven. 8i CHAPTER XVI. Dr. Craven had exceptional qualifications for gov- erning students. His method was not military. He set no watch over young men, but relied entirely ^upon their manhood and honor. Sometimes hearing of some mischief-making or disorder, he would boldly walk in upon the boys, and in his quiet and serious manner say: ' ' Come, boys, come; this sort of thing simply won't do. None of you can afford to be wasting time in this way. Every man of you ought to be in your rooms at work. I trust I shall hear no more of this to-night. ' ' His presence never failed to put an end to night reveling. One afternoon, soon after the war, a feud arose between the students and a large crowd of negroes. Hot words passed, and they were about to come to blows. Hearing of the trouble. Dr. Craven hastened to the scene, without waiting for his hat. Pointing his finger at the crowd of negroes, he told them in a calm but firm voice to disperse. Then turning to the boys he said: ' ' Now, boys, no more of this. Get to your .rooms." All obeyed instantly, and an ugly row was averted. At one time the secret fraternities occasioned much disorder, strife and dissipation. Dr. Craven was quick to discern their evil influences, and he caused them to abandon the institution. The college gov- 82 Life of Braxton Craven. ernment consisted of ver}^ few rules. Bo3's were not allowed to leave the college without permission, and were expected to observe study hours in their rooms at night. A student had not been in the institution many da3^s before he realized what moral standard was set for them. Dr. Craven had led an unblem- ished life himself, had sown no wild oats, and it pained him to see others committing immoralities, or w^asting the opportunities of life. At chapel exer- cises every morning he made short talks to the boys, appealing to their manhood and nobler instincts in behalf of studious habits and uprightness of conduct. When a boy had left the college without permission, got on a spree, or otherwise subjected himself to dis- cipline, he was notified at chapel to appear at the President's office. Here the Doctor would talk the matter over, appealing with all his power to the boy's conscience and honor. But he w^as never harsh under the most aggravating circumstances. He felt the deepest concern about every student, and in dis- ciplining them his manner and voice were like the sorrowing and wounded mother rather than the scolding father. To see his disapproving counte- nance was the severest possible rebuke. Hence, not only the well-behaved, but the worst boys of the school, and even those who were expelled, loved Dr. Craven with something of the affection which one feels for a mother or father. Great as was the power of Dr. Craven in bringing out the possibilities of Life of Braxton Craven. 83 young men, he could not make a man of every boy, and many boys went to Trinity, as have gone to other schools, who were incorrigible and proof against sensibility. But upon the whole, it is doubtful whether any college in America has turned out a greater per cent, of successful and useful men. It has often been facetiously remarked that Dr. Craven impressed upon every student two facts: First, that Dr. Craven was the greatest man in the world; and second, that the student was the next great- est. There is no doubt of the fact that the boys all thought him a great man, and he certainly had the happy facult}^ of kindling the flame of ambition in boys and recognizing the latent possibilities in them . The best results cannot be obtained from either boys or girls by ever harping upon their short- comings. There is nothing so essential to a good teacher as the ability to detect the strong qualities in the composi- tion of the pupil and to give them proper nourish- ment. This high estimation of Dr. Craven was b}^ no means confined to the students. The writer could quote many extravagant opinions that have been expressed of Dr. Craven by men whom he touched in the outside world, but it would probabh^ detract from the biography to present opinions in this con- nection, or la}^ stress upon them anywhere. Among all of his admirers and friends, none held him up higher or stood by him with more steadfast- ness than those who saw most of him and lived 84 Life of Braxton Craven. nearest to him. xVniong those men, the writer calls to mind John W. Thomas, Ahi Robbins, Jabez Leach, Joseph Johnson, Jas. Leach, L. M. Leach, and Dr. S. G. Coffin. Mr. Charles Hundle}', who lived in Trinit}' onl}^ a few 3'ears before the Doctor died, says that he thought more of Craven than an^- man he ever saw; that no man ever " got next to me like Craven." When visiting among the people where Dr. Cra- ven was raised, the writer found the name to be men- tioned always with love and reverence. Every one was anxious to make sacrifices to aid the writer's work, and even the liveryman at Ramseur offered a horse without charge. In the winter of 1880 Dr. Craven accompanied a part}^ of students to the capital of the nation. The following account of the trip is from one of the party: ' * I cannot recall at this day how it came about that a* trip to Washington was proposed for ni}^ class. I remember well that somewhere in our junior year the Doctor smilingl}" told us that he saw no reason wh}^ somebody out of the students then in college should not become president of the United States, and he was sure some of us would one day make the halls of Congress ring with our eloquence. This was doubtless one of his stock flatteries, but it may have been taken seriously by one or more members of my class, who resolved on going to the national capital at the earliest possible moment to see how the Life of Braxton Craven. 85 thing was done, to know how to work the legislative machine, or to run the White House, in case an emer- gency call should be made upon them. However this may have been, the plan was proposed, and the President undertook to give it effect. This was the first and only time, as far as I know, that such an excursion was undertaken by a class of Trinity stu- dents and, of course, it created quite a commotion at that time. My recollection is that the trip was un- dertaken in the month of March, 1880, but of this I cannot be certain. Round- trip tickets had been pro- cured at reasonable rates for twenty to twentj^-five persons. As a matter of fact, I think the party con- sisted of twent3^-two persons, including four members of the President's household — Professor Carr, Rev. C. C. Dodson, and a daughter of Professor Ganna- wa}^ We left High Point in the forenoon and ar- rived at Washington that evening. We were met at the depot by a delegation of North Carolina Con- gressmen — Messrs. Armfield, Steele, Scales, Kitchen, and others. Well I remember the broad-brimmed Greeley hats they wore — or some of them — and how rotund and solid they looked, greeting us in the glare of the depot lights as we alighted from the train. I doubt ver}^ much whether any other set of boys were ever so received b}' a North Carolina delegation ; but it was election 5^ear, and our great men knew that there were lots of Methodist votes behind us. The first thing that happened to us was that Mr. Arm- 86 Life of Braxton Craven. field, then the able representative of the Seventh Congressional District, and a candidate for re-elec- tion, gave us — the students — an oyster supper. I could not make oath that we had time to wash our hands and faces before we were led to the feast, but perhaps so. I know there was no time lost by the honorable member, and we voted him, unanimously, a good host. I think, also, that he was re-elected to Congress by a large majorit3\ Both the North Caro- lina Senators, Ransom and Vance, were present, I think, and all the Representatives, including Mr. Russell, the Republican member from the Wilming- ton-District. It was Mr. Armfield's y^/i^ ^ Raleigh News arid Observer : ' ' Dr. Craven was a strong man; remarkable in personal appearance — remarkable in intellectual characteristics. He has made his impress upon society, and has left an en- during monument to his wisdom, energy and devo- tion to the cause of Christianity and the cause of education." Editorial Methodist Advance : * * " Intellect- ually he was capable of almost anything that mind can compass. His large attainments in learning, the influence which he has wielded among the intellect- ual men of his Church and State, and the work he has done, all under difficulties and embarrassments which would have discouraged or even crushed an ordinary man, make him peerless among those with whom he acted. Trinity College is his monument. Whatever it is, he made it. For it he lived and labored, and we do not know but it may be truth- Life of Br-axton Craven. 121 fully said, in some sense, for it he died. Under the folds of that cloud which hangs over the institution which w^as the dream of his youth and the idol of his mature manhood, he has gone down to a prema- ture grave, bequeathing it to the church to whose glory he consecrated his genius and whose ministry owes so much to his training hand. ^ * ^^ A man who could have won distinction anywhere, he literally stuck to the soil of his nativity with the devotion of a child to its mother. A man who could have accumulated wealth in any land where fortunes are won, he preferred poverty and a life of toil for the honor of his church and the glory of his State. ' ' On November 8th the students of Trinity College met and adopted the following resolutions : To the Memory of B. Craven^ D. Z>. , LL. D. : Whereas, It hath pleased God in His infinite wisdom and goodness to take from us our venerable and beloved President, Dr. B. Craven; and whereas, we, as a school, feel sadly bereaved by this painful dispensation of Providence, and desire to mingle our sighs and tears with those of the bereaved, to tender them our heartfelt sympathy, and to leave on record some testimonial of our appreciation of the charac- ter and worth of this great man, therefore be it Resolved i. That w^hilst it becomes us to yield in submission to the will of God, we cannot but do it in our present bereavement with great reluctance. 9 122 Life of Braxton Craven. Resolved 2. That in his death the church has lost one of its ablest ministers, the State a wise counselor, and the college its life-long devoted friend and bene- factor. Resolved J . That in him we have lost a great man, a kind, noble and loving preceptor, whom no student knew but to love and respect; and that for his un- tiring energy and care in training and developing us into the highest and broadest moral and intellectual manhood, w^e owe a debt of gratitude which can never be paid. Faithful to his duty and to himself, he was ever ready to stand for us like a column of defence against wrong of ever}' kind. Ever kind, amiable and loving, he never withheld from us any favor which he considered necessary for our comfort or improvement; but always, with an affection which no student could mistake or misapprehend, he kindly denied us whatever his far-reaching judgment per- ceived to be for our hurt. Resolved ^. That we do greatly love him, and will ever strive to cherish the manh^ sentiments and the worth}' ambition which he labored with so much diligence to instill into our hearts. Resolved ^. That as a token of our sorrow for him, we dress in the sable habiliments of mourning the front of the College, the Chapel, and each Society Hall, and that each student wear the usual badge of mourning for thirty days. Resolved 6. That a copy of these resolutions be Life of Braxton Craven. 123 spread upon the record of each Literary Societ}^, and be furnished the Nashville Christian Advocate, the Raleigh Christian Advocate, and the Methodist Ad- va7ice, with the request of their pubUcation. W. P. Bynum, M. A. Smith, A1.BERT Anderson, F. M. Shamberger, W. A. Pierce, ^ Comtnittee for Senior Class. Memorial services were held by some students and citizens at Kinston Thursday night, November 30th. Mr. J. Q. Jackson presided, and made an address. Mr. John W. Collins acted as Secretary. Impressive speeches ^vere made by Prof. Joseph Kin- sey, Rev. F. D. Swindell and Rev. N. M. Jurney, after which appropriate resolutions were passed. James W. Reid, at the commencement of 1883: "^^ ^ " Go stand with me on yonder hill at the grave of the priest who reared this temple, and who for so many years ministered at its altars; view his life, his work, the influence he set in motion, and tell me if the}^ ever lay to rest any nobler dust, even in the great English pantheon. ^ >i< i had rather live the life that Braxton Craven lived, set in motion the influence for good that he started, help to an educa- tion the scores of poor young men he aided, have my named embalmed in such a precious memory as he 124 Life of Braxtox Cravex. has left behind, and be buried even in the 'potter's field' in a pauper's coffin, sleep isolated and alone beneath the stars, with no requiem save the night winds, and with no loving hands to deck my humble tomb, than with the fame of earth's martial heroes to have my ashes followed by such a funeral cortege as went after Leon Gambetta to the wind-swept cem- etery of Nice, or to be laid to rest in Westminster Abbey among England's illustrious dead." ^ ^ ^i >;< >l< >;< The father was the first member of the family to pass away. Soon after his death the afflicted daugh- ter began to improve, and finally she recovered, and now lives with the widow at the old homestead. His eldest child, Emma, was married by Bishop Marvin, June loth, 1875, to Rev. W. H. Pegram, who has been a member of Trinity College Faculty from 1873 to the present time. To them have been born five children: George Braxton, Annie McKinney, Irene Craven, John Edward, and William Howell. The first graduated at Trinity in '95, the second in '96. Dr. James L. Craven, the eldest son, was married June loth, 1875, to Miss Nannie Bulla. He died November 12th, 1885. The widow and five children sur\4ve. The children are Harvey Barnard, Earl Bulla, James Braxton, Bruce, and George Bulla. The oldest, Harvey, graduated in the class of '96 with his cousin. Miss Annie Pegram. Dr. Will Cra- ven graduated in the school of medicine of the Uni- LiFK OF Braxton Cravkn. 125 versity of Baltimore, and a few months later, while practicing his profession in Philadelphia, contracted pneumonia, and died February 3d, 1895. A suitable headstone erected by the widow marks the resting place of her husband, and upon it is this inscription: "Braxton Craven, D. D , Lly. D. Born August 26th, 1822. Died November 7th, 1882." i^: >^ ■^ '^ ^ "^ Nathan Cox, after a number of years, was rein- stated by the Friends. Returning from a quarterly meeting one Sunday, and while descending a hill near Franklinsville, the harness of his horse broke, and he was thrown from his buggy and killed. His widow remarried, and lived to a very old age. 126 LiFK OF Braxton Craven. CHAPTER XXIII. It has been the aim of the writer to refrain as far as possible from attempting an}^ estimate of the char- acter or intellectuality of his subject, and to allow the facts of Dr. Craven's life and the products of his own pen to speak for themselves. Enough of the man is herein exhibited to form a fairl}" correct estimate of him. Still, something more needs to be said. The reader must bear in mind that Dr. Craven left behind him in writing comparatively little of his work, either as a teacher or preacher, and of that little most of it (judging from the handwriting and dates upon some of the manuscripts) was written prior to i860. In the last decade of his life he wrote scarcely anything, and it is a reasonable supposition that his best efforts in the pulpit and in the class-room were never com- mitted to writing. He was certainly a remarkable man from any point of view. To begin with he had an extraordinary physical constitution, and his early discipline upon the farm hardened and solidified it. He had large limbs, large body, and large head. His health, with the exception of the last j^ear of his life, was perfect. So far as his family know, he never missed a meal in his life. He used to say to his classes that he went to sleep "perpendicularly — that is, right straight oif," that he never had a headache in his life, and never knew what it was to dream. Life of Braxton Craven. 127 In scholarship he was solid and round, as distin- guished from specialists of more modern times. He did not attempt all things, but in knowledge of the classics, the fundamental principles of the sciences, and the standard works of history and literature, he was an exceptional master. It is difficult to form any idea from his manuscripts which branch of knowledge he was most familiar with. Prof. Gan- nawa}^ who has seen him in every role as a teacher, says that he had no specialty, but seemed to be an adept in every department of college work. Prof. Doub characterized him as "a man of enc3^clopsedic knowledge. ' ' The important fact, however, in con- nection with his scholarship, was not the breadth of his knowledge, great as that was, but it was the beauty, harmon}- and utilit}' which he saw in all the fields of learning. Judging from the quotations from his pen, contained in this book, it would be difficult to find a scholar anywhere who saw more rythm in science, literature and art, or interpreted their voices and messages with a more read}' appre- ciation. Dr. Craven, in no sense, belonged to that class of scholars who are mere reference books, or mirrors, reflecting the ideas of others, but he pos- sessed a highly constructive intellect, and thought out his own conclusions. The passages quoted in this book indicate a lively imagination. Indeed, there was much of the poetic in his soul. He loved nature and the great masterpieces of literature. He 128 LiFK OF Braxton Craven. tasted at every classic fount, and meditated in all the sacred groves. In his mind's eye the history of the universe, from the first orb that rolled from the hand of the Creator down to the latest act of Con- gress, passed before him like a huge panorama. He made himself contemporary^ with Moses, Socrates, Caesar, Luther and Napoleon. He lived and thought in a higher altitude than ordinary mortals, and no wonder he was not appreciated nor understood. Such a man, like a great mountain, must be viewed ^om some distance before one can realize the magni- tude and grandeur of the figure. Indeed, there is much in the character of Dr. Craven that reminds one of the masters of the ancient academy. Although he was rather grave and serious in disposition, he had a fine vein of humor, which often displayed itself both in the class-room and in the pulpit. The writer is inclined to believe that he could have written a roaring comedy. His character was no less rounded than his intel- lectual powers. In his personal habits he was ex- ceptionally free from the vices and follies common to the young men of his day. Having a deep religious faith, and high conceptions of life, he grew into a noble type of manhood. He loved all that was pure and good in the world, and abhored the vile and vul- gar. He was a man who could never laugh over any kind of vice. He never told a smutty joke, nor lis- tened to one with any patience. He knew notliing Life of Braxton Craven. 129 of scheming, artifice, or the tricks of trade, and was never known to be guilty of any sort of littleness. He relied upon open dealing and solid worth to take him through life. In his nature there was no asper- ity, and though opposed by many foes, he pursued none, but left them to the fate of their own snares. Many people have expressed the wonder why a man of such powerful intellect should not have sought a larger theater upon which to act. ' 'What a preacher he would have made," they say, "in a New York pulpit. What a superb pleader at the bar; or in the halls of Congress, Who could have stood before him?" Several reasons should suggest themselves in an- swer to such queries. Dr. Craven answers them himself in his advice to the graduates. He says, * ' No man should ever feel that he has two chances in life: he should select one mission and with it live or die. Be emphatically men of one work ; let it be large enough for any talent, or lasting enough for any age, and then depend upon it for fortune and fame. ' ' Dr. Craven had chosen as his life-work the profession of teacher, and he never had but one am- bition, and that was "to make men." In his life he received tempting offers to connect himself with other institutions, but he never, for a moment, thought of abandoning the college which he had founded and hoped to see endowed. His children, with their families, and many of his friends, were 130 Life of Braxton Craven. more or less dependent on the success of the institu- tion. It is not probable that an}^ pecuniar}' conside- ration could have induced him to leave Trinit}' Col- lege. Being a pioneer in intellectual development in North Carolina, he lived and labored at a time when educators received little recognition or reward. Were he living to-daj' he would be encumbered with help. It is of little consequence to us to ask what he might have done in broader fields. Such a quCvStion is like asking what he could accomplish had he waited to be born in the 20th century. Suffice it that in the sphere and environment in which fate had placed him, he acted well his part. He lifted himself from the humblest and most adverse surroundings, and took rank with the State's mightiest men. From his boyhood till his death, he walked and communed with God, and by a life of self-sacrifice and consecra- ted service to humanity, he blessed the lives of all who came within his touch. Indeed, the influences which he set to work for good can never be measured until the end of time. In the nobleness and heroism of such a life, what a rich legacy is left to coming generations: what a fountain of inspiration is afforded for all poor young men: and what a contrast is seen in such a life, as compared to that of the dema- gogue, whose ambition is to follow the multitude, pander to their prejudices and passions, catch their admiring eye, hear their shouts and hallowing, and see them trooping at his heels — all to the end that Life of Braxton Craven. 131 he may get an office and live upon the sweat of their faces ! And, perhaps after all, Dr. Craven had httle of that ambition which seeks self-aggrandizement, or glories in fine palaces, but he was, throughout Ufe, inspired by that sentiment so beautifully expressed by Jennie Deans, in addressing Queen Caroline in behalf her condemned sister: "Ah, my leddy, when we cume to die, it will not be what we have dune for oursells, but w^hat we have dune for ithers that we shall think on maist plaisantly . ' ' Fourteen summers' suns have baked the red clay above his bones; fourteen winters' blasts have sung their requiem in the neighboring pines. The beams of the sun here find no lofty shaft to kiss good morn- ing or linger about as they die away in the west: but the name of Craven is written upon the hearts and in the lives of multitudes of people where no summer's suns nor winter's blasts can ever efface it. After this lapse of time an humble beneficiary, lightly treading, approaches the bleak and secluded spot, and, with still bleeding heart, lays this wreath upon his grave. THE END. PART SECOND. PART SECOND. CHAPTER I. EXTRACTS FROM HIS LECTURES. THE BEST METHOD OF COMMUNICATING KNOWLEDGE. The green oasis, the valley of the Nile, and other great rivers, mark no less clearly the fertilizing in- fluence of water, than polar lands and the sterile wastes of the desert proclaim either the want or the destructive action of vitality; and so in every coun- tr}^ the results of the teacher can be clearl}^ traced in the intelligence, morality and public spirit of the people; thus, too, may be traced the effects of theory, the true and good, bringing forth a hundred fold of happiness, and the evil exhibiting naught but injury as a bad legacy to succeeding generations. ^ ■^ i^ ^ ■^ ^ One of the most common and mischievous theories of mind upon which practical teaching is founded, is that there are natural differences of intellectual abil- ity independent and prior to all educational influences, that some can, with great facility, comprehend, ac- quire and retain, either the elements of learning or the details of business; that some are born to be 136 Life of Braxton Cravex. statesmen, generals, poets, and men of distinction, whilst others, b}* reason of the small amount of in- tellect God has given them, are predestined to insig- nificance. Though this is not the place to refute this popular error, we may be allowed to say that the doctrine is false metaphj^sicall}^ impious theologi- calh% and exceedingl}^ pernicious in practical life. '^ -'' These differences are the result of man's conduct and circumstances, hence not being a fixed creation of omnipotence, they are subject to human control: their disadvantages may be overcome by industry, and the recuperative power of intellect maj^ wing a loftier and steadier flight from having strug- gled with earl}^ difficulties. ^ ^^ Many an embr3'o giant is consigned to degradation, the hopes of a father and the pride of a mother are blasted, b}' a useless and false theory. ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ :i: Referring to the necessity of awakening the intel- lectual faculties and also the affections of men, he says : ' ' Toward these results every proper teacher will move from the commencement of the alphabet, through all studies, exercises and schools, looking more closel}^ to the developments of the mind and heart than to the number of pages accomplished or aptness in recitation. The e^ed of information, in- struction and study is the chief thing to be consid- ered, and without direct attention to this, all methods Extracts from his Lectures. 137 of communicating knowledge will be hazardous to the recipient. Ever}^ sensible man feels both indig- nation and disappointment when his son returns from the common school, the academy, or the college with folios of grammar, mathematics and languages, and at the same time exhibits a wild, untutored mind, pernicious sentiments, and vicious inclinations, suita- ble for nothing but pompous arrogance, boisterous merriment and ruinous extravagance ; or when the 3^oung lady returns, advanced with the elegances of literature, embroidery and music, but marred with intolerable affectation, whimsical sentimentalism and morbid ill humor. Such youths of either sex are not educated, they have not experienced the best method of communicating knowledge, and no great name of teacher, school or college can atone for the fault, or repair the melancholy injurj^ thus inflicted upon the immortal spirit. The only source of direct and real profit to the student is his own personal exertion, hence he is the best teacher in any given case who arouses the / student to energetic action, directs his efforts in the !. right w^ay to consistent, worthy and noble ends; causes him to form manly, tasteful and proper habits, and creates within him a thirst for knowledge and personal excellence that will bear him firmly through all the allurements of dissipation, the dazzling splen- dor of prosperity or the deep, dark gloom of adver- sity. He knows how to teach who reads the soul's 10 138 Life of Braxton Craven. character and capabilities; marks the high goal it may attain, kindles its own inherent ambition, makes it shun immoralit}^ and dishonor as loathsome things, and teaches it to labor, dare and do, reh^ing upon jus- tice, self and God. Such teachers (and North Caro- lina has a noble share) are the benefactors of man- kind ; their worthy deeds deserve richer laurels than ever graced lauded statesman or conquering general. >> ^ >i< ^< 'i^ ^ If the teacher cannot clothe with fascination the S3^stematic columns of the spelling book, the maxims and stories of the Reader, the principles and problems of Arithmetic, the definitions and exercises of Gram- mar, and all other subjects he proposes to teach, he has embarked in the wrong profession, and should at once and forever abandon that for which he is not qualified. From the considerations presented, it will be appa- rent that we do not think an}^ system will be a good one in the hands of an improper man; that teaching is far from being similar to the mechanic arts, which simply require conformit}' to rules, lines and propor- tions, without any reference whatever to the charac- ter or disposition of the operator; that teaching stands alone among professions unlike all others, and requiring for its efiicient accomplishment a nice combination of character, inclination and acquire- ment. As a general rule, whatsoever a man has ability, habit and inclination to perform in a superior Extracts from his Lectures. 139 manner, he delights to do, and finds a kind of men- tal compulsion laid upon him to discharge that work; thus the proper teacher feels a necessity to impart knowledge, he is uneas}^ and restless in other em- ployments, thinks and talks only of the studies and scenes of the school-room, finds more pleasure in arithmetic than in the splendid romances of Bulwer or Scott, and prefers the exercises of examination to all the theatricals of Mrs. Siddons, or the inimitable Garrick. In turning our attention to the actual routine of imparting knowledge, it may be proper to remark, that scarcely any subject can be thoroughly and completely learned alone or at any one period in life. The alphabet, the first link in learning's endless chain, cannot be comprehended in all its significance b}^ a mere child; the forms and names of the letters maj^ be learned, the sound given to certain combina- tions, and the regulation of the voice in connecting these sounds together; but what child can under- stand the laws of orthoepy in their nature, applica- tions and musical arrangement ? These depend upon the organic structure of vocal organs, the inevitable difference of vowel, sub-vowel and aspirate, the dis- tinction of monophthong, diphthong and triphthong, and thence far nicer distinctions, embracing pitch, force, time, melody, sharps and flats. These things, implying some knowledge of anatomy, physiolog}', symbols and music, must be understood before a clear 140 Life of Braxton Cravkn. knowledge can be gained of the number of letters requisite, why some represent two or more sounds, wh}^ some are silent, the difference between the name of the letter and the sound it represents, wh}' v may not precede b before a vowel as easily as b can pre- cede r, and numerous other interesting considerations upon the same subject. Hence will be seen, that even the English alphabet, completely understood, is a beautiful field of thought, abounding in the most acute logical distinctions, the finest discriminations of taste and elegance, and by no means inferior in genuine excellence to the most finished of modern accomplishments; but can neither be taught alone in a very short time, nor to a ver}' young person. If it should be considered that a subject of so little ele- gant reputation is unworthy the attention of mature thought, that its philosophy and distinctions are fruitless niceties and empt}^ speculation, it ma}" be answered that they are as substantial and real, as improving in their tendency, and as practical in their application, as the laws and maxims of any science in the whole range of mental cultivation. Now the best method of communicating knowledge on this subject will manifestly be that which, disregarding all extraneous and temporary excitements, fixes attention by the peculiar influences of the subject itself, accomplishes each particular in a mode and time that will predispose to further progress, and properly prepare the mind for its reception. Every- Extracts from his Lectures. 141 thing learned should have reference to the whole subject, and every hour's study may and should increase a desire for further knowledge. Orthoepy and orthograph3^ like all other sciences, are com- posed of parts. These have a relation to each other as well as to the progressive development of mind ; and when studied in the right order and under proper influences, there will always be ease, clearness, inter- est and profit. Let the teacher present the alphabet in name, form, sound, or combination; let each point be made perfectly clear; let the utilit}^ beauty and influence of each be carefully explained, and a youth- ful ardor will be aroused that will conquer all indif- ference to study, or the attractions of sport. >Jj >-i >ii >J< >;< ^ ' 'Want of interest in primary learning, ignorance of i its utility and vast import, and consequent deficiency in language, the great instrument of thought, are at this hour, perhaps, the greatest impediment to profound scholarship and literary distinction. There are graduates in the land who boast proficiency in the language of Cicero, and affect Parisian purity in French, who neither understand the nature nor the philosophy of the English alphabet. That method of instruction is wrong in any land that permits a neglect of the maternal tongue. -^ ^ Endow the teacher with the knowledge and unction of his pro- fession, then with chalk and blackboard he shall bring forth flashes of light, even from the alphabet, 142 Life of Braxton Craven. that will hold, spell-bound the most listless and inat- tentive, wooing them gently unaware and upward to the full stature of intellectual maturit3^ ;;< -^ :^1; i;i ;•; ^ "The real objects of Geography and Natural Sci- ence collected together, would be sufficiently inter- esting to cause the play-ground to be neglected, the ball-room to be emptied, cards to be forsaken, and even vice to be abandoned. Now the books are the natural world in miniature, and supply the place of universal travel, and the teacher must so explain the picture as to invest it with real life. Good action on the stage causes the audience to forget that it is all fiction, and good teaching makes the learner forget that the object contemplated is mere paper and ink. >f: >!< >|< Jji ;]< ^ "In the same mode the Ph3^sical Sciences unfold their vast accumulations of facts, all bound together b}^ long chains of sequence, cause and effect, and lead the mind by the sweetest attractions through illimitable fields of richness, from Nature up to Nature's God. Then, standing upon the sum- mit of these great mountains of thought, with fields of loveliness all smiling between, the high-born soul, conscious of its strength, dignit}^ and immortality, scorns the insignificant and vile among mortal things, lives in a higher, nobler element, drinks from purer fountains, lives upon higher hopes, and achieves a more glorious destiny." Extracts from his Lkctures. 143 EXTRACTS FROM HIS LECTURES ON RHETORIC AND THE FINE ARTS. "Aesthetic force supports morals, creates a natural taste for the pure and good, prevents low and de- praved inclinations; avoids vulgarity in speech, thought, and act; supports the proprieties, the great guardians of morals. A man whose taste is de- praved, and who has small love for the beautiful, will find it difficult to be a gentleman or a Christtian. ' ' It has impulsive power. It warms the soul into life and activity; it excites the soul by the health- iest natural force. ' * It has sustaining power. Every song of the bird, every blooming rose and every sunset sk}^ holds the soul up to higher attainments. Every good thing can speak to his nature and help him. ' ' The essential importance of rhetoric is threefold. " I . Its personal importance is of the highest rank, j since, in spite of all circumstances, in all conditions and at all ages, our happiness strictly depends upon ] correct feeling. "2. It is socially important, because, by inducing correct thought and feeling, it would drive away the jars and discords of communities and drop the gen- tle dews of peaceful serenit}^ upon all the hearth- stones of the land. "3. It is of public importance, because, by the same 144 Life of Braxton Craven. means, crimes and wrongs would come to an end and the wolf and the lamb would roam together o'er the plain. ' ' ><: :^ ^ jj: >ic >ii ' ' The aesthetic influence of the world is its noblest expression: it is God speaking with ten thousand tongues to the noblest powers of man. Sensual utility is "of the earth, earth}^" but around every particle of creation is spread a higher glory. The flowers of the plain, the oaks of the forest, the mur- muring rivulet, the might}^ river, the plain, the mountain, the lake, the ocean, the earth, and the stars all speak in God -like eloquence to the soul of man." H< ^ ^ if! * ^ :it * 'The more highh^ the mind and heart are cultivated, the more powerful impressions are. The hydra feels a wound less than a horse; the horse less than a man. None but the most elevated are capable of the greatest emotions; the stupid may rage like a brute, but the cultured onlj^ are capable of the high- est passions of any kind. ' ' He * ;iJ :S: He * * "Much of the restlessness, roaming, and evil of young people is due to the fact that they have no resources of amusement in themselves, and no ma- terial upon which they can employ their hearts. ' ' ijC jfc Jjl ^c ^ J}c "The character of this age is destructive to poetic talent; its effort is for wealth, pomp and sensual Extracts FROM his Lectures. 145 pleasure; its philosoph}^ is utility and application with the perpetual motto, '' cui bono.'' It has few aspirations to explore the vast empires of the beauti- ful, the good and the true. "The spirit of this age calls for a poet. The cry has rolled from Greenland to the Southern Cape, over every land and sea, ' ' who will sing the anthem of the 19th century?" The mighty exploits of sci- ence have never been told in immortal verse; battles far greater than iVngora, Marathon or Platea, are passing away to oblivion without a bard to perpetu- ate their remembrance. The great spirit of this century, with its dim prophesies of future greatness, its unutterable impulses, and its unparalleled achieve- ments, has found none to give it a name, or fathom the depth of its wisdom. ' ' FROM LECrURE ON RHETORIC. * 'As samples of the historical novel, we have Homer, whose power consists in his powerful description, and the correct philosophy of his events. We have Scott, distinguished for his powerful development of character and his vivid descriptions of nature; his philosophy is meager and unimportant. We have Cooper, unsurpassed in the development of Indian and sailor character, and in the philosophj' of his events; his descriptive power is rather inferior. "As samples of the sentimental novel, we have 146 Life of Braxton Cravkn. Virgil, vivid and accurate in description, natural in sentiment, but feeble in philosophy of events. We have Dante, powerful in his investigation of the whole human character, correct in his philosophy of induction, and terrible in his delineations. We have Milton, glowing in description, powerful in the in- vention of probable character, and philosophic in stating the actions and tendency of such character. ' ' In illustrating the different classes of literature, there are references to Rousseau, Moliere, Voltaire, Scott, Dickens, Shakespeare, Swift, Cervantes, Irving, Cooper, Bulwer, Racine, Corneille, and many writers of Greece and Rome. FROM LECTURE ON SCULPTURE. ' ' From the plains of the Ganges and the desert of Gobi, from the grass-grown mounds of Ninevah and the submerged plains of Babylon, come voices from the aged tongue of Sculpture that speak eloquently of the olden times. Petra hewn from the solid rock, Palmyra on the lone sandy waste, Egypt with its pyramids, and Jerusalem, the chosen city of God, all speak in the language of Sculpture, and breathe a remnant of primeval life. The obelisk of Eg3^pt still shows the school-boy lessons of Moses, and the broken columns of Diana's Temple, at Ephesus, continue to breathe the spirit that opposed St. Paul." Extracts from his Lectures. 147 "America, especially, needs sculptors of indige- ] nous growth, not men with the spirit and even the genius of Italy, but men who have been nurtured by our own natural, social and political life — men who understand our traditions, our history, and our aspi- rations. Then would our noblest conceptions and the finest outflowings of our life be impersonated in the rock, and our nationality would be recorded on tables that never decay. •' ' This department of art would have a powerful tendenc}^ to check and change the rapidly increasing spirit of sensuality and love of wealth. The noble free spirit of America already indicates a premature decline and an inglorious end. Few are disposed to develop their powers, discipline their nature, and be men; we are a nation of dwarfs, a generation of blasted nobility, without much promise of a brighter future. ^ ^ * ^ -x- ^ * ' ' Every form of life has its external index, the material table upon which is written its character in nature's own dialect. Not only the kinds of life are manifested b}^ the differences of tree, flower and shrub, animal and man, but the character of each may be read in the changing leaf, the waning flower, and the pale countenance. * ' Every animal involuntarily shows its passion, as in the raised hair of the dog, the protruding claws of the tiger, and the firm-set teeth of infuriated man. 148 Life of Braxton Craven. * * Every emotion and passion of man has an ex- ternal expression, a visible impress upon the bod}* and its motions; these constitute the natural language of the passions so well understood and so truthfully expressed b}' sculptors and painters. "This expression of the soul's character not only shows itself in the lines of the face, the proportions of the nose, the movement of the lips, and the move- ments of the body, but in the countenance, that inde- scribable illumination of face that shows the light and shadows of the invisible indwelling sun. ' ' The lines of power about mouth and chin tell of internal, unslumbering energy, while the very soul of the sensualist is printed upon his lips. See the fathomless depths of intellect in the eye, or the glare of ruthless passion, or the cunning of heartless chi- caner}^ or the sparkle of joyous innocence, or the leer of foul libertinism, or the exaltation of inspired pathos. ' ' The most conspicuous and permanent effect is pro- duced by secret thoughts, unexpressed desires and emotions — the deep fires of the soul that smoulder under the confinement of the will, and thus burn their own smoke into the firm texture of the body. ' ' •5<- -X- * -H- -X- -X- ^ "The appreciation and enjoyment of the highest and most refined beauty, require accurate and pro- found culture. Hence the rich things of God's creation are unknown to the untutored multitude." Extracts from his Lectures. 149 In his lectures on Geology are many fine passages. He easily comprehended the vastness, beauty and utility of all science. As illustrative of his appre- ciation of this field of knowledge, a few extracts are given: "It may be that the six days of Genesis mean vast epochs, in which God made all that this uni- verse contains; that he now pauses till certain devel- opments shall have been accomplished, and that yet again his mandate will go forth; new orbs and sys- tems will spring into being, until all the concave of ether will shine with glittering stars. It may be that in cycles to come, this globe may be inhabited by a new, noble and kindred race. Then may they doubt and wonder, when, in solid hills, they find trees and animals, when in digging far down they find the lettered blocks of our Washington monu- ment, the paved streets of New York, the endless machinery of Birmingham and Shefiield, the vast collection of the EngHsh navy or the curious collec- tions in the Mediterranean. Geology is j^et in its infancy, and yet it has done more to clear up and enlarge the conceptions of Divine truth than any other science. It upholds the omnipotence, wisdom, benevolence and providence of God with a lucidness of demonstration unequalled in any department of physical inquiry. It proves the most precious truths by unprejudiced testimony from each of nature's great kingdoms; it adds a new 150 Life of Braxton Craven. continent to the domain of intellect, abounding in all that can enrich the mind. This noble science, in a literary sense, takes rank with the ver}^ first; its vocabulary is adapted to all ages and nations; its rhetoric rushes in soul-fire from the hearts of mil- lions living and dead, and its anthem of praise to God is noted through all formations upon ancient beach and terrace. Its legends are written upon rock and cavern, bone and shell; its fortress of truth is older than the rocks of the pyramids, and will be unassailed when those mighty piles shall have moul- dered to dust. Geolog}^ has gone back to the time when Eden was, and though six thousand years re- mote from life and light, has onh^ reached the first mark upon her wand of time, and then through times, too great for calculation, mid reptiles and creatures strange, in earthquakes and commotions vast, she heard the Mighty God pronounce the doom of chaotic rule, raise up the blue dome of air, and flash the first beams of light across the gloom pro- found." ^ -^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ' ' As the sun arose over those pristine hills, the lark welcomed him with a song, and rose up to meet his first beams in mid-air; then began the cheerful but monotonous "bob-white" of the quail; the vul- ture took his station in the air as a heaven- appointed scavenger; the albatross and pelican soared over the deep and gazed with pleasure upon ocean storms, and at night the owl attempted to continue the music Extracts from his Lectures. 151 of the day, and though not written in the records of Geology, tradition affirms that his owlship ruined his vocal apparatus in his effort. ' * The Miocene period is marked by a very exact but most ludicrous imitation of man: the Ape, in his many varieties, now peopled the tropic climate that then spread from pole to pole; the Dinotheriam, larger than the mastodon or elephant, with two huge tusks and a snout, inhabited both land and water, and the Rhinoceros come forth as a proper compan- ion and associate. Then, too, under oaks and nut trees and along the streams, Hogs displayed their greediness and grunted themselves to sleep; whilst in jungles the Tiger's terrific roar startled creation's repose, and the night was made hideous by the screams of Panthers and feline animals of every kind. Then the great Mastodon died in Kentucky to be the wonder of this age; the Hippopotamus assumed the empire of rivers and shallow seas, and the Horse came forth, the gentleman of beasts and the pride of man. ' ' The Pliocene period is marked by the Elephant, with his docility and strength; the Ox followed as the great utilitarian of his age; next bounded the Deer into existence, wild, graceful and fleet; then the Dolphin performed odd feats in the sea; the Seal and Walrus sought homes in the coldest places; and the Whale was crowned monarch of the ocean; whilst the hills were covered with poplars, elms, willows, chesnuts and sycamores." 152 Life of Braxton Craven. CHAPTER II. ADDRESS TO THE GRADUATES. You7ig Gentlemen of the Senior Class : I have had the pleasure of delivering to you the official diploma of this institution. You are now to go forth as graduated men — men whose talent, dis- cipline and attainments qualify you to do men's work, bear men's burdens, and receive men's rewards. You do not go forth to make a vain parade of learning, but to use it effectivel}^ in the real interests of life; you do not go to boast of whence you came, but to make others boast of the substantial good you can do; you do not go to seek pleasant, remunerative positions by displacing other men, but to build such positions for yourselves that all men would like to have them. Go not by choice where money and honors are easil}^ won — such is not the place for doing the greatest good, nor the locality for the best and largest growth of 3^oung manhood — but select fields that are large and capable and that most need the tiller's hand. Be the architects of your own for- tunes, make your own plans, lay the foundations with your own hands, and then, by the help of God^ build palaces in which real men can live. Take no temporary or secondary employment, for these seem- ing necessities or present conveniences are the ruin of talent, the blight of great capacity, and have irre- trievably ruined much of the fine talent that has gone Address to the Graduating Class. 153 out well polished and strong from college halls; but begin life's work, and a w^ork for life, with the love and fire and hope of youth; let there be neither mem- ory nor scar from other pursuits; no habits formed nor inclinations developed, but such as belong to the great mission. No-4nan should ever feel that he has tw o cha nces in life ; he should select one and with it l ive or die. Be emphatically men of one work, let it be large enough for any talent, and lasting enough for any age, and then depend upon it for fortune and fame. This is the only foundation for eminent suc- cess, and the onl}^ means of distinguished usefulness. The work you select, and the mode and success of performance, may have much to do in arresting the mad proclivit}^ of this age to neglect collegiate edu- cation altogether. With a depressing and widely extended pecuniary inability, comes a fearful apathy tow^ard liberal study and profound culture. The effective desire for thorough education is compara- tively less than it was thirty years ago. The educa- tional tendencies in full force when the w^ar began, have chiefly sustained the colleges till the present; but these tendencies have expended themselves by lapse of time, and the new" age, like all others in similar circumstances, has neither acquired the for- tune nor the higher aspiration necessary to seek or sustain high literary culture. You are to demon- strate the utility and beauty of thorough mental dis- cipline, to prove that the State and the church have II 154 Life of Braxton Craven. need of larger men than ever grow in the wilds of ignorance, and to prove to all that time and money spent in accomplishing the most extensive college curriculum, are ampl}^ repaid by a large increase of the noblest manhood. Be such men in all relations of life, that crude presumption may be effectually discredited; that chicaner}^ may neither have excuse for its existence, nor success for its reward, and that profound scholarship may establish its utility in a new republic, b}^ conferring blessings upon the re- public that no other condition of life can bestow. If your object is worth the cost and life of a culti- vated man, it will be long weary years before you pluck the golden fruit. Be not impatient and never despair. Many great things are ruined by haste, by the impatience of friends, and the malicious chidings of foes; by hasty observers who know not that the ocean has an ebb as well as a flow, and by prophesies that are intended to work their own fulfilment. To yield, or change, or hasten to premature finish, is to ruin good work and waste a life. Know 3'our work and know it well ; then do it, regardless of criticism and without too much advice. Men ma\" be, and often are, advised to death. Wise men observe all things, and learn from all men, but work by the light and force of their own intelligence; they bridge no gulfs by expedients, but build the solid masonry as they go; they never make bounteous to-day by heavy drafts on to-morrow; and they always press direct Addrkss to the Graduating Class. 155 upon the center of resistance. Competition is sup- posed to benefit trade, to improve all business, and to be the steel of the intellect; but competition, as generally understood, and in the modes commonly practiced, is utterly beneath first-rate ability, and revoltingly repugnant to a true man. The only true race is against time itself and for eternity. To sur- pass others, to be the observed for a day, to be in the ascendancy, however small the ascent, ma}' be compensation enough for mediocrity; but can be neither the object nor reward of real worth. No two heroic men can or will work alike, or for the same end, and all comparisons between them are false in application, and odious to the men themselves. Do for yourselves a good work and of the greatest possi- ble magnitude. Sow largely and reap your own harvests, without counting any sheaf from a neigh- bor's field. Avoid all ordinary competition, for it leads inevitably to deceits in work, false estimates, popular plausibilities, and every conceivable mean- ness of soul ; it encourages the tattler, gives employ- ment to the intermeddler, offers a nucleus for exagge- rations and intentional misconstruction ; rouses into fury the bitterest and blackest envy, and breaks the oldest and strongest bonds of friendship. Compete with no man, but do work that all must admire. In doing this work, think for yourself and to your- self, for every really successful man in history, with- out a single exception, was a man who had strong 156 Life of Braxton Craven. reliance upon himself. Not only does God help those who help themselves, but men do the same, and self-help depends largely upon self-thought, original resource, and inflexible resolution. Give liberally, recei\^eJrom all, and lean onh^ upon your- self. ^ Sermons and Extracts. 157 CHAPTER III. SERMONS AND EXTRACTS FROM SERMONS. "THE GREAT PROMISE." Acts i, 4. ' ' All preaching without the Holy Ghost is a mocker}^, an insult to God. The splendid eloquence of Chatham or Clay, would be abomination in the pulpit, unless another ingredient is added. God never consecrated the pulpit to discuss science, parade philosoph}^, revel in imagination or display rhetori- cal finery, but rather to wield the plain and simple, but ponderous and burning words of the Gospel. ' ' ''THE NURTURE OF THE SOUL." Matt, iv, 4. ' ' * What shall we eat, and wherewithal shall we be clothed,' is the first problem of the age. The French revolution, in 1790, deified famine, dissipa- ted the grand old ideas of social joy and refined taste, and made bread the watchword for all peoples and clans. For seventy years bread has been the autocrat of human ambition, and has marshaled all 158 Life of Braxton Craven. forces and energies of mind and body to coerce every kingdom of nature into prolific production. The emphatic thought of the world is unquestionably concerned chiefly about eating, about what enters into the composition of breakfast, dinner and supper, about aliment in general — scripturall}' summed up in the word bread. And this is not confined to the rude, uncultured masses ; but is more especially dom- inant among the wealthy, the cultivated and influ- ential. Hence the science of Elementar}^ Produc- tion has received more attention and more enlarge- ment than any other; in the last half century chem- istr3' has advanced from the baseless speculations of Alchemy to a firm position among things positive and calculable. Wars have arisen about the trans- portation of corn, and tariffs upon tea; men have been ennobled and immortalized for improvements in the furniture of the kitchen, and great statesmen have summoned their mightiest energies upon sugar hogsheads, salt sacks and pork barrels. Poetry has left the old haunts of the muses, sacred and profane, no longer lingering in the shady groves and along the murmuring streams, but loving rather illimitable fields of corn, immense squares of cabbage, and tables that bend beneath the weight of savory dishes. Eloquence has forgotten the forum, the senate hall and the hustings, and now rather pours its burning power upon toast-speeches at public dinners, fired by the rich odors of turtle-soup and champagne. Sermons and Extracts. 159 According to the notions of this bread-loving age, even beauty can only reach its meridian in the din- ing-room, and social etiquette knows no higher com- pliment than an invitation to dine, or a card intimat- ing that madam and tea send their compliments for nine o'clock p. m. Thus the eating idea has eclipsed all others, and man the animal, has dethroned man the spirit. Bread must be had if the soul is lost. Starvation is esteemed the very worst thing in this w^orld or the next, and whatever delays dinner is a foe to the summit of human felicity." FROM A SERMON ON "DIVINE LIFE." Romans viii, 8. ' ' The Divine Life in the soul is a distinct existence, given directly from God, and subordinating all other forms of life and forces, i. The text cannot be true in the common acceptation of the terms, and the common understanding of the proposition. We do not accept such a theology. 2. Perhaps some of the well-established doctrines of Biology, will throw light upon the subject. 3. This comparatively new science has engaged the noblest intellects, and while greatly abused by the infidel sages of France, has contributed no little to theological science. 4. The mineral world has no life, but is governed by an organic law of form, that subordinates the chemical law^ of atoms and composition. The vegetable adds i6o Life of Braxton Craven. to the mineral vitalit}^ with the single function of plasticity, subordinating the mineral law. The ani- mal adds to the vegetable sensation and perception, and subordinates the vegetable. Man adds to the animal reason and subordinates all below. The Divine Life in the soul is a distinct existence, given of God and subordinating all others." It may be remarked in this connection that Dr. Craven never realized an}^ conflict between science and revealed religion, but rather made science the servant of religion. He reconciled Genesis with Geolog}' by interpreting the six days of creation to be figurative representing long periods. ' ' FROM A SYNOPTICAL SERMON ENTITLED " ALL THINGS ARE TEACHERS AND ALL TEACHING IS NECESSARY," Job xii, 7, S, 9. "Without knowledge there is no growth, and without a continual increase of knowledge there can be no real progress. This is true of the minister, the phj^sician, lawyer, farmer, or merchant. Hence many Christians lack all elements of growth soon after conversion. ' ' The scources of this knowledge are the physical w^orld, the mathematical world, the mental and the religious. All these are pious books of Revelation. God is in all alike. They are all essential elements of growth, and without them there can be no real Sermons and Extracts. i6i man at all. Then the scientific is the explanation of the moral. Take away all created things or ideas of things, and man could not understand God's moral teaching at all. If the world — its surround- ings — did not explain the Lord's Sermon on the Mount, who could understand it? Then the more we understand of these things, the better we shall understand the Bible. Perhaps the whole Bible will not be completely understood till all nature is." FROM A DISCOURSE ON "CONFIDENCE IN MAN." 2 Cor. vii, i6. ' * A large part of the evil and misery of the world arises from a want of confidence in man. Faith in man is next in importance to faith in God. Faith in God brings out all the blessings of salvation. Faith in man is the only thing that can develop all that is noble in man, and bring out all the blessings of united, genial hearts. * * When we lack this grace we weaken all with whom we come in contact; our influence is unnerving and pernicious upon all hearts. Infidelity to God or man is ruinous to soci- ety. Sceptics, scoffers, and misanthropes inevita- bly ruin society by repressing all that is noble. ^ * * ' A want of confidence in man ruins our own efforts, paralizes our energy, cools and hardens the heart, kills all inducement to activity and endurance. * * A want of confidence makes us miserable beyond 1 62 Life of Braxton Craven. all other human effects. A heart without confidence can neither have ease, sympathy, joy, hope, enthu- siasm, nor any other warming, energizing power. "The cultivation of the genial, social, confiding, sympathetic and philanthropic, is one of the most important Christian duties." FROM NOTES ON ««THE RASHNESS OP TRANSGRESSIONS." :Matt. xxvii, 25. " It is said the death-shriek never ceases to ring in the ears of the murderer; homeless and a wan- derer, he never can escape the agonies of the depart- ing soul. What, then, must be the crime of murder- ing the son of God, of stretching forth a hand to dethrone the eternal Jehovah, of brutally and fiend- ishl}^ slaj^ing the Prince of Peace. Lawless liberty ma}' glory in the red poinard of Brutus, dripping with the blood of Caesar; purity may canonize Virginia, consecrating her countrymen with her own heart's blood; and constitutional freedom may laud Cromwell, sprinkling the diadem of English right with the blood of a crowned king, but who can exult in a nation of sinners doubly sealing their own damnation with the gushing blood of God's eternal Son? ' ' Earth has many places made fearful b}' crime. No wandering Tartar lingers at the beautiful foun- tain of Koordistan, where the princess of Afghan was murdered by the Altai robbers; no German tarries Sermons and Extracts. 163 all night at the old castle of Tubingen, where Mary of Tours was killed at dawn, after hearing all night the cries of her tortured child; and no Scotchman will enter the cave of Ben Nevis, where the young Earl of Maury was starved to death. There are plains and places so stained with blood and cursed with cruelty, that at twihght hours they seem to be filled with mocking fiends and gibbering ghosts. But did any place ever witness such inhuman cruelty as Mount Calvary ? x\nd can the foot of earth ' s last man ever tread that blood-stained summit without feehng that more than mortality still dwells there? Are there not still traces of that blood, that redeemed a lost world and, in the gloom of a faded sun, van- quished the king of terrors? The text is a degree of human madness and ungovernable frenzy that has no parallel in all the history of earth. "Thus, then, naturally, logically and theologi- cally, all things may affect us and help us as though we had been present, experienced and formed part of them. ' ' Universal travel ought to make one wise, polished and good ; but, by belief, we can take all with more rapidity and less expense. " If we are diHgent as we should be, true to our- selves and to God, we may be w^ise and accomplished as though we had Hved six thousand years; had talked with Adam, Moses, Abraham and Jesus, because all this may be realized by us. 164 Life of Braxton Craven. "As though we had traveled all over earth — as though we had begun our days in chaos — as though we had traveled more than 3,000,000,000 miles, and visited 10,000 stars — as though we had been through heaven and hell and had seen the judgment day. "What a gigantic power has God given us, and what elements to nurture us to immortal life ! * ' All things work for us, and we require them all. ' ' FROM NOTES ON "DEMORALIZATION."' Isaiah xxii, 13. " 'Let US eat and drink, for to-morrow we die,' said the old Hebrew world of sinners: To kalon aga- thon esti, said the jovial, pleasure-loving Greek; dum vivimus vivamus, said the elite of the Roman world, led on by Horace and his tuneful brethren. ■' With dainties rich aud a brimming bowl, And beauty, and music, and song, I'll never care for the fate of ni}^ soul, Always merry and always young." says the modern pleasure-seeking reveller. Thus the old maxim has lived through all ages and is still a potent theology with all classes. "This godless-pleasure life, this mania after arti- ficial excitement, this carelessness of the future, is a species of spiritual madness. It borders on derange- ment. It is a certain sign of high and dangerous fever in the body politic or in social life." Sermons and Extracts. 165 from notes on "brotherhood." I Peter iii, 8. "Man alone could not be man: having the form and functional endowment of a rational creature he could be nothing but a brute. To be a man or woman, we must speak or be spoken to; we must hear the human voice, and see the human countenance. We must not only commune with nature and God, but with man; we must see the light of kindred thought and feel the fire of human souls. Some kind of community, some number of neighbors, and some tie of common interest must bind us together. We must have congregations, meetings and assem- blages of the people, not only to accomplish certain specific ends, but for the health of the soul and the culture of the finer humanities. The log-rolling, house-w^arming, huskings, and gatherings of a new rural population, not only more effectively accom- plish certain work by union of effort, but they are needful to soul-hfe, and are the rude culturing in- struments of a higher life. It is not good to live so isolated that we cannot see the smoke from our neighbor's chimney, nor hear the bark of his dog. Clanship may carry this too far. Aristocratic caste may restrict too much. Parties may use it for sel- fish ends. Rings may use it for injustice. " Man in society is Uke a flower, Blown in its native bed. 'Tis then alone His faculties, expanded in full bloom, Shine out; there only wait their proper use." 1 66 Life of Braxton Craven. * * Without unity through union nothing noble can be accomplished. Human unit}' has as 3'et been very imperfect, 3'et it has by the railroad reduced a mile to thirty-two rods ; and by steamships, the At- lantic is only 1,000 miles wide. It has given better clothing, more food, and more comforts of every kind. It is educating the masses, building colleges and churches, presenting strong barriers to crime, and lifting the nations from gods of wood and stone. ^^ '•' Ever}' thing that man wants is too great for single effort ; it must be the result of many hands and heads and hearts. Without unity there is no happiness; the stream of bliss must flow through more hearts than one before it can flash with joy. A thought, or a word, is enriched by age until it flows with nectar. Nothing but regeneration can lift a man above narrow selfishness and make him see that his good is the good of all." FRAGMENT WITHOUT TITLE OR TEXT. ' ' They that grow up to manhood with no thought but such as is aft'orded by the nursery and youthful experience, begin the world afresh and take their places next to Adam ; but they w^ho live upon great, rich thought, vSome Asiatic, some Greek, some Ro- man, and much Anglo-Saxon, live six thousand years in their youth, and may take their places next Srrmons and Extracts. 167 to Calhoun, Maury or Webster. The ignorant miser has thought feeling and Hfe, as old as the flood ; the graceless devotee of pleasure ought to date himself about the times of Sodom, and the stupid bigot is contemporary with Goths, Huns, and other tribes of the dark ages. We must be raised upon thought ; all the light of the past must enter our eyes, that we may clearly see the present; but we must be more than a pantry, or even a library; we must put forth a life of our own, not like any that has been or is ; when we die the human mind ought to make another mark upon the scroll of time. ' ' The following are mere fragments of thought found among his notes : ' ' Theology is a tedious and difficult science, and beyond controversy hinders the progress of the gos- pel. But salvation is an easy science. Nearl}- all people can comprehend its conditions, its active forces, and its results. The sectarian way to heaven is cir- cuitous, doubtful and irksome; the Bible way is plain and direct." **The imagination may do great things in fiction, poetry and art. The reason may be wonderful in its grasp. The understanding may be a vast storehouse of valuables. The polish of mind may be a lustre in the midst of all bright things. But high above all these is the gigantic powder of belief. ^ * Men and women, made of the thoughts, inclinations and 1 68 Life of Braxton Craven. aflfections of this or an}^ other one age, are poor, feeble and incapable of earning even a penn}^ in the Lord's vineyard. Real people, of good material and fast colors — people that will bear wearing and wash- ing and ironing — must have in them somewhat as old as Moses; something from j-esterday's newspapers, and somewhat that God has sent back w^ord by reve- lation from the other side of the resurrection. Kvevy one that is capable of being a finished saint must be a well-made man or woman; and it requires all time, and a part of eternity to make them. It requires all humanity rightly to make a man. Part of humanity is gone to dust; part now lives, and partis 3'et to be. The past we must obtain b}^ belief, most of the present we must realize in the same way, and the future we must see b}^ faith. Thus, burning Sodom, Noah on the flood, Esther saving a nation, Christ at the tomb of Lazarus, and John's might}^ multitude of the redeemed, must all come to our realization by belief. Through this might}' door come lights from the whole universe; dews and streams from all God's dominions, and thus all things work together for our good. * * The high spiritual can be accomplished only in connection with the highest human. At the bottom of all greatness or usefulness, either human or divine, there must be a solid foundation of pure human nature. The greatest men have the most of the human in them, and the heroic, historic women of Extracts from his IvEcturks. 169 every age were none of your dainty, dew- fed, star- beamed, ethereal, unearthly abstractions; but they were most tremendously human, with abundance of good, rich blood : good eaters, famous for laughing or crying, and capable of a good, sound rage when occasion demanded. An inexhaustible abundance of the human is the stuff to make saints out of. Neither God nor man has any use for blasted, sap- rotted, worm-eaten timber. Men and women in their natural, unconverted estate, that despise all enjoyment, go into spasms at the barking of dogs, cannot tolerate romping, crying children, faint at three drops of blood, would rather drink stale water than go to the well, and can have all their teeth extracted without uttering a groan, are mere rubbish and waste-paper. They have too little hu- man nature to ever get religion; they are already given over, not for hardness but dryness of heart. The ancients made even their wounded gods roar in anguish, thereby showing their fidelity to art if nothing else. An unconverted man, that never breaks the commandments, must be a poor dried-up mummy, incapable of good or bad. There is more hope of a downright, plump, jolly sinner than of a prim, austere old moraHst. The only way men can behave themselves decently, without Jesus and the Holy Ghost, is to murder their own human nature, and make themselves something for which there is no redemption. The divine nature was killed by the 12 lyo Life of Braxton Craven. fall, and the human nature was badly crippled: if we need the atonement for the one, we need a sur- geon for the other. Both natures were in perfection in Adam the first man, in Christ the second Adam, and must be in all the children of the kingdom. * ' To teach is to advance from the known to the unknown, from darkness to light, from the obscure to the clear. To do this requires the old speaking with new tongues and new significance ; or else new things speaking the old dialect. Hence sym- bolism is the great medium of advance. All things are historical. The present explains the past and the past explains the present : either would be unin- telligible without the other. Ancient things pass not away, they enter into and make what is. Thus every age flashes new light upon Providence and Revelation, as new results are wrought out." "This body is a temple. It is wrought out of material nicely fashioned, laid with inimitable skill, and cemented by the powers of vitality. It is finished with elaborate compartments, with the rich- est coloring, and the most splendid decorations. It is the dwelling place of the Spirit, the abode of im- mortality. ' ' In this alone can the Spirit hold converse with God. None can go out of his temple to worship God in a holier place. Here in the several apart- ments must each power and faculty await the com- HxTRACTvS FROM HIS lyECTURKS. 171 ing of the I^ord. Hence both a sound bod}- and a sound mind are essential to the noblest service. ' * This is the only temple on earth that God in- habits. He may write His name upon all created things, and make His melody ring out from all things, but He inhabits nothing on earth but the human temple." vr "Sf -.f •^^ Vw" •K" ' ' Without the Gospel no man is alive. The sin- ners of this world are dead, their wild gambols and ungodly glee are mere animal spasms. Their laugh and huzza are hollow and hideous. They know nothing of that high, glorious life that is hid with Christ in God. To own abundance of wealth, make a vast parade in servants, equipage and dress, and feel the exclusive, disdainful aristocratic hauteur, is not life ; to press every thought and every hour into the service of pecuniary acquisition, starve and freeze the hands in the field, encroach in all trades, insult and oppress the widow and orphan, and neglect wife, children, home and God, is not life. To cut all social existence into sets and circles, pretend to know none but the elected few, and banish all concern for the great family of man, is not life. None of this is the life that was brought to light by the Son of God. ' ' •5f 7(- Tf ^ ^ -Jf "Every line of science is a pathway to God. He (the Christian) ought to praise the iron, lead, gold and silver. Then he should make them praise God in harps and organs and every form of music. ' ' 172 Life of Braxton Craven. "He ought to praise man, not note his defects, but dwell upon his excellencies and nurture them by sweet, loving words. Though it is said that praise spoils, praise and not blame is the true nurture of greatness. ' ' "Every capacit}^ of man, whether intellect, sensi- bility or will; w^hether thought, emotion, desire or volition, must have expression. Without that they neither live nor grow nor work. That expression may be b}' letters, b}^ art, by works, or in many ways; but ever3'thing in man of any force expresses itself, and every man writes his life upon the world in some kind of expression." ><: :^c ^ ^ >|< ^c ' ' The soul that has never worshipped has never known what it is to be man or woman. Every soul wants to worship, and is useless till it does." ' ' Whatever tends to gratify human desire is wealth. All wealth is artificial, a compound of the Divine and human. Material wealth has divinit}' in it. Every article of luxury or use has in it the super- natural, quite as conspicuous as the human. God and man work together in one eternal copartnership, and when man does his part properly, there is always harmony and success. ' ' ^ :i: * ^ * * ' ' God is not poor, that he cannot provide for his children. The earth is the Lord's, and the fullness Extracts from his Lectures. 173 thereof. JevSUS found gold to pay tax. He can make the earth fruitful : the stars are his plantations, and ungathered fruit is dropping from the trees of paradise." ' * There are such things as spiritual presentiments. A storm on the coast of Africa troubles the waves on the American shore. Rheumatic joints foretell the equinoctial better than the almanac. The forest moans before the storm-cloud rises above the horizon. So does the soul of man have admonition of coming evils or favors. Angels whisper to it, and the Holy Ghost prompts it. Bright lights, or thunderings or lightnings upon the horizon of the spirit, are never to be disregarded." 5^ >|c ^ ;f; * * "But the great majority leave the world sooner than they ought: the interest of humanity and the Kingdom of Christ require the services of old men and women. We have no right, by wilful ignorance, carelessness or dissipation to break the pitcher at the fountain before any water has been carried to the thirsty of this weary w^orld." :); ^ ^ * ^ * ' ' The pyramids and catacombs of Egypt are the wonder of the world, but they are, at the same time, the fadeless epitaph of the most stupid and soulless form of civilization ever known to man. The con- temptible boob}^, who is willing to live upon ances- 174 Life of Braxton Craven. tral accumulations and spend his days at cheap gambling, or staring at beaut}^ on the sidewalk, is a worthy compeer of the Egyptian gentleman." ^ ;•; :H * * ^ ** Perhaps the truth is, that we all unintentionally circumscribe religion too much, and confine it to particular effects and developments, when it properly embraces much more. It is purification and new life; it is in the head and the heart, and we know both by thinking and feeling. As the sun's ray has light that is seen, heat that is felt, and chemical power that changes and builds the organic kingdom, so does redemption give light to the mind, warming vitality to the heart, and at the same time changes and builds up the spiritual man. As water is for cleansing and for drink, for show^ers and dews, for rivers and oceans, so the grace of God is of many forms and applications, suited to many different necessities, and relieves all kinds of want. ' ' •jfi ^ ^j^ ^ ^' 'M " In my mind I cordially embrace the doctrines of the church. I admire the sublimity of Revelation. I am touched by the kindness and love of God. I believe in the church, but I cannot live in it; it is utterly too cold and formal and dead. A man that can be a good church member in these days is fit for nothing else. Whoever can be content to live with- out any pleasure for the present, has but little life in him. Such a lifeless religion will never do for me. Extracts from his Lectures. 175 All thinking and no feeling is the dullest of all pos- sible conceptions. I would rather have the jerks like the New England penitents, or the rude furor of a Western camp-meeting, than the lifeless elegance of one of your cit}^ churches. ' ' * ^ * * . * * In a sermon on the Philosophy of Experience, de- livered August, 1866, after quoting a paragraph from Emerson on Compensation, is this addition: "No sorrow on earth is beyond remedy, and no disaster is beyond the power of Providence to mend. No grief is so great that joy cannot dissolve it; no cloud is so thick and black that the winds cannot blow it away, and no desolation was ever so com- plete that the second building might not be better than the first. While heaven is possible no man has any right to despair. It disparages God's goodness and omnipotence to suppose that earthly ills can find no remedy. " 'The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.' " jjc :)c ;K ^i; -Jf -Jr "A man's strength does not consist so much in what he can do himself as in w^hat he can induce others to do." ^ •!<- TT -^ ^ ^ ** Every one of these notions has been and is be- lieved by different denominations and persons; each can seemingl}^ be established by explicit texts of Scripture, and all of them have brought forth beau- 176 Life of Braxton Craven. tiful, nourishing fruit in the lives of their believers. None but bitter sectarians and bigots will pretend to say that the different churches and creeds have no apparent foundation in the Scriptures for their sup- port, and surely none would be so unjust or unchar- itable as to say that there had not been, in all the churches, lives pre-eminently holy, most charmingl}' beautiful, and enriched with every Christian grace." ' ' Cicero said but one irreparable calamity can be- fall a man, which is * to die badly.' Socrates said * no man should be pronounced happy till the man- ner of his death is known.' To be ready to die is the best preparation to live." ' ' The results of ever}^ age are specially marked by the heart productions of that age — the heart has marked itself deeper upon ever}' age than the head has. Great heads are immortalized in stone, great hearts are written upon the race. ' ' " We want more of the ornamental. All matters of fact ought to be beautiful things. All imple- ments ought to have the proportions and lines of beauty. We want more charity, more giving and less buying and selling. We want more of the com- memorative. The dead should still speak, and in all the highways and by-paths of the multitude the monuments of departed worth should tell their story to coming ages. Extracts from his Lkctures. 177 " In history we want more of the gentle, the lov- ing, the courteous ; more of home scenes — more about mother and children." * * Great talents can only be developed by great oc- casions. The inner soul comes forth only to meet distinguished guests. Thus were born the Iliad, Paradise Lost, St. Paul, Luther, etc. "Nothing except God can accomplish its end alone. All created things are double. An3^thing alone would lose its significance. Sunlight without eyes or vegetables ; the air without lungs or plants or earth ; the diamond without light. ' A thing of beauty is a joy forever,' but nothing is beautiful alone. Raffaelle said no maiden ever reached her meridian of beauty till love bloomed in her heart." jjc ;{< ^c ^ >;; ^ "The heart must be heard in religious things, it has revelations peculiar to itself. There are unspo- ken teachings for all souls. The greatest and best part of God's revelation has never been written." ;(; ^ ^ ;}; H^ >}: " The wisdom and accomplishments of this world, with the doctrines and divine life of Christianity, are transcendently brilliant and infinitely useful and desirable ; but without these doctrines and this divine life they are a philosophical error, a moral failure and practical impudence. I have a scholar's respect for the great thinkers and actors of the past ; I have 178 Life of Braxton Cravkn. felt, and still feel, a lordly presence in the shades of Tusculum, on the shore of Scio, in the grove of the Academy, upon the banks of the Rubicon, upon the field of Wagram, and in the halls of Westminster ; but as crucified to the world and a living minister of God, I ask what good have they done ? Where and in what have they benefitted mankind ! What polity of national good did they establish ? What improve- ment in labor have they devised? What vice have the}^ destroyed?" "If our actions, our resolutions, our great inten- tions and mighty works would only come to what we aim at, and not go beyond our wildest calculation, we should soon push Providence out of the world, and rule the globe absolutely. But our gardens bear herbs we never planted, a strange hand hath grafted all our trees, and every day there is a guest at our table we never invited." =}^ ^ ^ ^ ^ v;- ' ' Like the exciting food and intense heat of the tropics upon lyons, tigers and serpents, the wrath of God upon a guilty conscience is maddening." ' * There is something in a large number of specta- tors to produce propriety of conduct, repress all ig- noble sentiments, and inspire elevated sentiments and actions. Indecency always seeks solitude; like the condor, it preys alone and then seeks some secluded haunt to sleep off its excesses. ' ' Extracts from his Lkcturks. 179 *'Cold people are neither profitable nor loving. ^ ''^ All great belief is founded upon intelligence, enthusiasm and courage. Great belief is possible only to those who attempt great things. Eloquence demands a theme. The soul is quickened by the magnitude of the work. Little thoughts and poor conceptions kill the spirit. If God should offer us fifty dollars, or a great dinner, we could not be- lieve it." ^. ;K * * * * "The church and the world need purer, more exalted and wider conceptions of Christian Ufe, char- acter, ends and aims. The old theories and stimu- lating speculations are dead. Our treasured ideals are the laughing stock of school boys. The best general conception of a Christian is not as good as Chatham or Fox. When the sinner sketches the ideal of that which you invite him to be, he sees nothing better than a straight-laced puritan listening for death. The Christian's Sabbath may be good, but it is neither rich nor beautiful. Man forever de- mands and must have something new. We must see man not only triumphing over coarse vices, but blooming in all beauty, commanding the earth, vege- tation, the clouds and the seasons. The gospel must beat sin in its own field, and prove itself a fountain of universal good." =5; * H« >!= * ^ ' * Jesus Christ and him crucified is the only pleas- ant sentence for the dying; it is more than music, i8o Life of Braxton Craven. more than eloquence. At that dread hour all the fine things of Shakespeare are forgotten, the sub- limity of Milton avails not, and the melody of Rogers is discord, but the great sentence of Paul (i Cor. 2: 2), is the chariot of the Lord to waft the soul home to heaven. ' ' ^ ^ ^ ^' ^ ^ " If the monster vices of the day are ever arrested in their course of cruelt}' and blood, it will not be by heaping piles of dark adjectives upon them, or gib- beting them with bitter denunciation. They may thus be driven, to some extent, from the light of da3^; but they will still dwell in the suburbs of de- cency, or revel in disguise in the gilded halls of fashionable dissipation. If names were things, the vices named and denounced in the New Testament would be extinct; the ver}' words by which they were called have become vulgar or insulting, and to men- tion them with a personal application meets the immediate frown of so-called good society, or perhaps a challenge to mortal combat. But are the vices dead? Xo, veril}' : the}^ are more intense, more in- geniously corrupting, and more ruthless in their infernal orgies than at any time past." Baccalaureate Sermon. i8i CHAPTER IV. BACCALAUREATE SERMON. 2 Corinthians iii : i8. "An hour arrives in the life of every man, import- ant for the present and heavily loaded with conse- quences for the future: an hour when he must look away from the landscape of youth and the shady retreats of boyhood to the dusty plains of actual life. There comes a time when ' father's home,' the pole star of youth, must be exchanged for another; when all the strongholds of youth's defence must be for- saken for the untried promises upon the page of life. The young sailor upon hfe's sea must boldly pull away from the shore upon a swelling ocean, whose uncharted quicksands he has been taught to fear but knows not how to encounter. While yet in minority, we can look to father for counsel and pecuniar}^ aid, to mother for consolation and love, to sisters for sympathy and affection, to brothers for alliance and strength, to college for instruction and precept; but when all these must be forsaken, where then shall we look for that store of rich things that the head needs, the heart covets, and our interest demands? "You, my young friends of the Senior Class, now occupy that envied and yet unenviable position. You stand upon the summit of youth. Behind you lie the 1 82 Life of Braxton Craven. calm days and serene skies of a clime devoid of irk- some care. " ' Murmuring rills and laughing sport Roll through shade and bower ; And smiling scenes that fondly court The boldest wing of fancy's power.' "You are just emerging from the halls of College, , with physical power ripening to perfection, intel- lectual cultivation extensive and thorough, hopes undimmed b}' clouds and saddened b}' no disappoint- ments. But direct your attention along the wa}^ of the future: that waving foliage 5'ou imagine is naught but the drapery of fancy's weaving; those smooth lakes are the mirage of disappointment; those beau- tiful mountains are onl}^ the airy drawings of your own imagination. " ' Dusty plains and dreary vales ; Rugged mountains, steep and high, Where weary youth so sadly fails, And lives alone to groan and die.' ' ' It therefore becomes a question of importance to what point you should direct your attention, what aim should fire your energies, what motives should sway the soul's decision, and what landmark will guide you safely to the great destiny for which God created you. Happily, the Bible on this, as on all other moral subjects, aifords abundant instruction. ' ' We are instructed by our text to look into the great glass of the universe, behold the image of our Creator, and by so looking to be changed from glory to glor}^ into His own likeness. I shall attempt to Baccalaureate Sermon. 183 show you that the only safe course for youth is to gaze steadil}^ upon the manifestations of God through Jesus Christ our Saviour, and how, by that species of improvement, we may discharge the claims earth justly holds upon us, and attain the high destiny for which we were created. '*I. We behold, as in a glass, the glory of the lyord. The great glass that reflects this glory of the Lord is the material world around, the immaterial world within us, and Revelation sent to us from heaven. The whole earth reflects the majesty, beauty and wisdom of God, warning us in tones of thunder to pursue the right and avoid the wrong, and wooing us with ten thousand tender associations to open our hearts to love and holiness. The broad forests of this new world, the gigantic Andes of our Southern sister, the parched Sahara of Africa, the spicey breezes of Araby the Blest, and the ocean's melody upon a thousand shores, enlarge the mind, elevate the soul and show us the image of our Father^ Who can gaze upon the eagle soaring above the storm, the lion waking the echoes of the desert, or the monster of the ocean careering in might}^ gam- bols amid polar seas, and not see the impress of Om- nipotence ? "I envy not the man's sensibilities who can look without pious emotions upon the rich fruitage of earth, the golden harvests waving over boundless acres, and the circling seasons bearing their profu- 184 Life of Braxton Craven. sion of all the physical man can desire. I admire rather the devout pantheism of the pagan, who felt the presence of a God in ever}' grove, worshipped a naiad in every fountain, and heard oreads chant upon ever}^ hill- top. But the richest part of the great mirror reflective of Divinit}^ is yet to be mentioned. The material world, with all its noble charms, is poor compared with the riches of mind. The action of intellect, the unlimited power of memory, the deci- sive and active force of judgment, and the more than mortal developments of reasoning, give us the image of a God in bold and striking outlines. Let any man look into his own mind and heart, ponder well its amazing grasp of thought, its untiring wing of imagination, its endless sources of instruction and improvement, and its recuperative energ}' under all circumstances of human existence, and then ask himself. Whose image is this? Let him mark that nice power of discrimination that so accurately traces human duty amid the darkness of passion and igno- rance ; that unbribed, incorruptible monitor within, that vindicates justice and truth in the face of ava- rice, hatred, revenge, and every other species of de- pravity ; that fountain of sympathy for sorrow and pity for distress, which no summer suns can dry up and no wintr}^ blasts can freeze ; those boundless, nameless desires which inhabit every breast, bearing us away from earth, and beckoning us to eternity — what do all these things show but a most glorious Baccalaureate Sermon. 185 image of our Creator? I assure you, m}^ young friends, there is not an atom of this globe, nor an orb that gilds the arch of night, that does not bear an ineffaceable impress of the God-head. Creation is one vast mirror, backed by eternity, in which the face of our Father shines divinely bright. "The Bible is not so much a mirror as a lens for the Christian's eye ; without it the future is a land of darkness, whose onlj^ echo is horror and dread. Through the Bible, the Christian's lens, all is bright, hopeful and inviting : a land of everlasting spring looms up in the distance, the sunlight of eternity penetrates the darkness of the tomb, the soul sees an escort upon the borders of time waiting to bear it to eternity ; a great city — the new Jerusalem — the saints' everlasting rest, stands full in view, with jasper walls and streets of gold ; hard by the throne stands Jesus Christ, the world's Redeemer, pleading for ruined, fallen man, and welcoming weary mor- tals home. ' ' Since the Star of Bethlehem arose upon the world, there is no necessary land of darkness ; the kingdoms of mind and matter are continents of light and love; creation's broad page, once all enigmatical, reflects the Father, robed in mercy, and not a pass- ing breeze but is melodious with the music of the spheres. This, my friends, is a glass that reflects without magnifying or diminishing ; glasses of hu- man make may reflect a view of the body, but this 13 1 86 Life of Braxton Craven. displays character, and like the fabled lens of the eastern fairy, it shows upon the ocean's bottom both glittering pearls and frightful monsters. Few of earth's careless multitude ever look intently upon the great speculum, and read therein the attributes of God, their Creator, the mercy of Jesus, their Re- deemer, and the power of the Holy Ghost, their Re- generator. Few ever see therein displaj^ed their own ruined spirits, their uncurbed and deadl}^ passions, their untold, unbelieved desires stealing through the dimness of twilight and the storm of eternal despair, whose dark border already throws gloom over the landscape of the soul. ' ' II. But our text informs us that, by gazing upon this image, we shall be changed by degrees into the same. All nature is certainly double ; no one thing is efficient without the aid of another, and every- thing, from the lowliest violet to the sun in the firm- ament, is precisely adapted to the development of something else. The sight of vice is contagious, the sounds of revelr}^ wake the powers of sin, and youth is often ruined by being a passive spectator at scenes of iniquity. But whosoever walks through this world, looking into creation's glass, thus (as saith the Psalmist) keeping God always before his face, ' shall wax strong in spiritual might, and shall become a giant in the warfare of Israel. ' Whether the ser- pent can charm the unwary bird, or one person, by animal magnetism, can control the will of another Baccalaureate Sermon. 187 or not, it is certain that God, by the imagery of Himself, can fortify the soul with virtue and win it to glory. There is a deep magic influence pervading every display of God's goodness, mercy and power, a spiritual attraction dwelling in every image of Di- vinity that overawes the lower passions of our nature and develops the nobility within us. " It is ever an infallible mark of a great mind that it delights in real, pure, great truth, and the basis of ascendancy in such minds is the transforming power of truth thus beheld. No influences of a sec- ondary nature, no flame of the passions, no sympa- thetic flow of feeling can make a deep and lasting impression: all that is permanent in duration and powerful in influence, must be based upon truth, brought home to the heart through the avenues of the understanding. Great poets, orators and states- men — men who electrify the age in which they live, and mould succeeding generations, disdain the tinsel of rhetoric and the low habit of appealing to the sympathies; their engine is truth, divested of all ornament, commended by nothing but its own inhe- rent excellence, and transforming the souls of men by its divine impress. If the w^orld is full of temp- tations to vice, it is equally full of influences for heaven. If we will be still and gaze intently upon any of God's works, we shall find virtue springing into life, our hearts will fill with fountains of sweet waters, and our affections will seek the world's Re- 1 88 lyiFE OF Braxton Craven. deemer. The church in its various branches, the missionary and Bible societies, and all other organi- zations of grace or philanthropy, are much prone, at this day, to use a great variety of appeals, parades and inducements to impress their claims upon the reluctant and win favor from the unconcerned. Even the ministry of the gospel, either incapable of wield- ing the power of truth or distrusting its efficac}^ deals largely in exhortation, portrays the separation of friends, and the rending of all social relations, paints scenes of death and all the tears of final be- reavement. All these things have their appropriate sphere, and are as lawful in the cause of religion as any other, but to use them as the chief means of eifect, and bring them forth as the great weapon on all occasions, is derogatory to the claims of revela- tion, an indignity to God, the author of all truth, contemptible in the sight of reason and common sense, exceedingly- harmful to those most interested, and justly entitles the man who practices such a course to the appellation of demagogue. The man who expects to influence m}^ mind, or win my support by painting my death-bed, or playing upon the chords that bind me to home and loved ones there, will only freeze every sentiment of generosity, overthrow my faith in his own virtue, and receive all the contempt a Christian may dare to cherish. If it is our duty to aid a work of philanthropy, it is not because we love or are beloved, but because its great obligations Baccalaureate Sermon. 189 are ordained of God, and enjoined upon the sons of men; if we should be religious, it is not so much because we must die as that it is our duty to rever- ence, obey and love God. If the spirit of evil is ever broken and the savage yell of anti-Christ silenced forever, if the captivity of the soul's empire is to be ransomed and the redemption of the world fully effected, they will never be accomplished by invok- ing the aid of man's low^est principles, and using the impulsive agencies of an hour; but by hurling against our foe the great shafts of almighty truth, and bat- tering to the ground the ramparts of sin with force rather than beauty. The battles of the world are not fought with epaulettes and the dashing uniform of public parade, but with ball, cannon and the un- bending steel. Nor do we want the glitter of poetic display when the fate of our country, our religion, our lives and our homes depends upon the decision of an hour. ' * But, my friends, your hour of preparation is past; the College bell will not again summon you to the duties of the day. A far nobler bell sounds across the plain of life, summoning you to use the acquire- ments and display the power that dwells within you. "Nature, instinct, social ties, and the God you worship, all urge you to seek a portion of this world's goods, that with hands of plenty you may feed sor- row's lonely children, give a mite to speed the mis- sionary, and have a home where peace and plenty I go Life of Braxton Craven. dwell. Nature and grace accord the possession of wealth to man — God's design with the world allows and requires it — but all that is profitable must pass the inspection and approval of heaven. Cunning, deceit, and plans of artifice are as sinful before God and as hurtful to enduring wealth as lying, theft and prodigalit}'. The golden wedge of Achan was not mor^ ruinous to Israel's host than will be an}^ dime in j^our possession obtained by fraud or unfair dealing. Whatever thing is obtained against open honesty will be a firebrand in the treasury of wealth, and a lingering curse to the family descendants as long as an iota remains. Have a care how you touch wealth, whether by inheritance, wall or gift, if that wealth was unfairly obtained; like the Ark of the Lord in the heathen camp, it w^ill be your ruin. Many a fortune has been obtained by marriage or otherwise that, like the cloak of Hercules, burned the receiver to death. But to obtain wealth, enter into some noble and manly work ; apply your hands to implements of industry, fix your eye upon God, your Father, and fasten your faith to Jesus, your Redeemer. Disdain all arts of gain; let your toil be as your religion, energetic, steady, ardent, with a burning, powerful intensity that aims at, seeks and obtains great results. ' ' Energetic industry is as essential to genuine re- ligion as brotherly kindness, and the piety of the inactive and lazy may always be questioned; the BaccaIvAurkatk Sermon. 191 Spirit of the Lord wakes the soul into new life and with it every power and function of the bod}^ and most assuredly the sluggard is as far from the king- dom of heaven as he who w^ished to postpone re- ligious considerations till a more convenient season. "Again, at your age the spirit naturally loves the soaring wing, seeking consideration, power and dis- tinction ; you pant for knowledge equal to the de- mands of an}^ hour, for mental abilit}^ to grasp and comprehend the whole superstructure of human in- terest, and for a richness of intellectual finish that may be the glor}^ of your age and nation. That up- rising of the soul is a sign for good, and without it you would be little better than the beasts of the field. A human being without ambition is not only fallen but decayed ; his soul is a drear}^ quagmire, in which the Dove of Peace can find no resting place ; if such a man acts at all it will be as the maniac, dangerous to himself and to all with whom he is associated. But it must be distinctly remembered that ambition enough to procure wealth and mental distinction is quite sufiicient to ruin the soul, unless it is sanctified by the Spirit of God. Human capabilit}^ roused to its utmost power, blazing with the combustibles of worldly competition and surging before the winds of am.bition, is destined to be a wreck upon the coast of despair, unless the arm of the Lord holds the helm. But if 3'ou would be men of power — able to defend the citadel of truth and read}' to aid the sorrowing 192 Life of Braxton Craven. children of earth — rouse all the powers of nature, be a burning, ardent man; but fix 3'our eye upon God. Let conscience stand true to the pole of justice, let the soul receive new life through the image of God, reflected from the face of our gracious Redeemer ; do RIGHT if the heavens fall, and worship the Lord in the very camp of mammon! As the soul brightens with virtue, the mind will reach forth its long arms to grasp the universe of thought, and as the affec- tions are purified by religion the sympathies will flow in perennial streams. ' * M}^ young friends, I entreat you not to be satis- fied with a mere glance at the image and perfections of God. Look about you for the tokens that the Lord still walks abroad in the cool of the da}', trace the gracious works of His hands in all the objects of human sense. Sound the sea of his love in the book of Revelation, and fan the kindlings of His Spirit in your own souls. Cease not till faith is a living power of the heart, till you feel the blood of redemp- tion cleansing the centre of the soul, till you live in daily union with Christ and walk with God. Reli- gion essentially belongs to the soul; it is a life within our natural life — the embrj^o spirit of immortality transforming this tenement of clay. To j^ou it per- tains, in no small extent, to exhibit the spirit of sanctified learning, to show pure examples of Chris- tian character, to confirm correct modes of social life, and to display correct taste in connection with Baccalaureate Sermon. 193 literary ability. In this respect, too, you have an unpopular, a difficult work ; because as a general thing, at this day, learning and social cultivation move insiduously, cautiously, but directly against vital godliness. The ver^'^ powers that should stand as a wall of fire around piety have betrayed the trust, and are worse than traitors in the camp of the Lord. Whatever is able to establish the badge of respecta- bility, to fix the taste of communities and give tone to society is accountable, tremendously, to God and man for its moral influence. Nothing is now more popular with the cultivated than a fashionable, sen- timental, semi-poetic moonlight religion. Beauty and finish in sermons, action and grace in the preacher and a gentility in the world's manner in all the exersises of God's house. There is in this spe- cies of piety and its followers, quite a sufficiency of human accomplishments. Hymns are read with theat- rical manner and cadence, the singing has the tone and finish of parlors and concerts, the prayers elo- quent and sometimes witty, the reading of the Bible has the lisping accent of high life, and the whole sermon is contrived to please the ear and captivate the fancy. The creed of this piety is propriet}- of conduct as to worldly ends, taste as to fashion and appearance, decorum as to good manners, and per- fection as to standing and social rank. Such reli- gion ma}' satisfy the demands of life, but will be worthless in the hour of death. Where there is no 194 Life of Braxton Craven. deeper, nobler spirit there will of necessity' be hypoc- risy, vanity, mean inveterate malice, and every other vice, rich in the drapery of form perhaps, but in very truth dark as the Stygian pool. Young gentlemen, I warn j^ou against the damnable vices of what is blasphemously called high life. You maj^ imagine that where talent, cultivation, politeness and elegance abound, sin and shame do not exist. But I assure you the}^ exist in all places where the love of God is not found- and though the}^ are odious in the uncul- tivated who have not the tact nor hypocrisy to con- ceal them, they are much more satanic in the pol- ished, who sin by calculation and conceal it by stratagem. The unreligious cultivated man is a fearful risk in any community, and the formalist is tenfold worse than the open sinner. " It is a fatal error that secret sins are less perni- cious than those that are boldly committed; it is equally ruinous to suppose that refinement in the mode of transgression lessens the guilt of the action, or that station, however exalted, gives any moral exemptions. No sin ever has or will be committed that will not ultimately become known, and if you are wise you will never do anything that you would be ashamed or afraid for the world to know. I have just as much confidence in one sinner as another, for human nature, fallen as it is, will not betray nor falter without consideration or inducement, and when real temptations come, humanit}^, unaided by grace, Baccalaurkatk Sermon. 195 falls before them like straws before a whirlwind. Pride of character, social position and mental power cannot supply the place of the Lamb of God, and whoever relies upon them in their natural state relies upon a broken reed. I have dwelt the more on this subject, because to its influence 3^ou are or will be greatly exposed, and through its baleful fires you will hardly pass unscathed. "Another consideration, worthy your closest at- tention at the outset of life, is the influence of your example generally, and the fearful responsibility resting upon you in that relation. The world is one great head of thought and heart of feeling, eminently impressive by ever}^ circumstance of life, deeph' in- terested in all that belongs to our common nature, and touched by every sensation that thrills any part of the great organization. Not only our acts and words mould with irresistible force the spirits of the young around us, but our unspoken thoughts, as they stamp their impress upon the countenance and form the action, seal their likeness upon the circle of our acquaintance, and send forth a transforming influence over whole communities. Examples of dead centuries are yet alive, action and thought never die, but are as immortal as man himself. Ponder well before j^ou make a mark upon the scroll of time, for it will be examined by the light of eternity, and its results noted to the latest generation. For several years you have been recording a responsibility of 196 Life of Braxton Craven. infinite consequence in this institution. As a class you have had j^our individual peculiarities and 3'our collective standing. You have added a large quota to the grade and standing of the college. You have affected the mind and heart of ever}^ student, and sent forth influences in a widening circle over many States; you have contributed to the character and manners of the community, and will leave influences to work for good or evil when the grass is green over your graves. Herein, too, the community is charged with a fearful reckoning at the bar of God. A large stream of humanity flows through our midst, and God holds us accountable for the character it bears away. If we exhibit individuall}' and collectively all that is pure, noble and virtuous, we are laying up treasure in heaven; if we display vanit}', evil dispo- sitions and a spirit contrary to genuine Christianity', the wrath of an offended God will thunder against us, and His power will consume us. * ' The positions you now choose in life demand your services, your prayerful attention. Many, very man}^ considerations will rise up and demand to be heard, many roads open before you, but to deter- mine in which your true interest lies is a matter of infinite difficulty. " We should, with candor and fairness, remember the case of Jonah ; he had not sinned against the sailors, and yet both boat and crew were doomed to destruction unless he should be cast overboard . There Baccalaureate Sermon. 197 is a fitness for all things and a proper sphere for each, and all combinations contrary to the will of heaven will, like Babel's tower, meet confusion and disaster. You have, perhaps, seen two students, both of excel- lent character and disposition, but their association together was the ruin of both. So it is in the affairs of life, both physical and moral, and in this respect God marks our steps with searching eye, and woe to that man that does not ponder his ways. Though you may be holy as Paul when he denied himself for his brethren's sake, if you perceive that you are the occasion of harm to others, God requires you to remove from that connection, and you will disobey Him at your peril. If others are a stumbling-block to you, the connection must be severed, though a right hand or eye be removed, or father or mother forsaken. ' ' Foster has beautifully said that God intended every man for the hero of a special work, that the province of each is distinct from another, and all heaven-intended arrangements are harmonious as the spheres ; that Christian's God dwells not in discord. You have a spirit unlike your brother, yet for your brother's good you can do a great work that none other can; but where that work is you may not know. You must be bound to earth by duty and to heaven by love, but the field of that duty may be in heath- enism, Christendom, or altogether unmarked at all. One thing is certain, you were not created either to amuse yourselves or others, nor does your Father in 198 Life of Braxton Craven. heaven permit you to choose your work. In every man, cultivated or rude, abides an undying incHna- tion which is the voice of God proclaiming your mission. If you gird yourself in the bonds of strength and move at this divine bidding, the arm of Jehovah will be around you, Jesus will watch 3'ou from the mercy seat, angels shall be 3'our ministers and arch- angels 3^our guardians. ' ' Sectional ties, inclinations of habit and family considerations maybe good politics or passable poetry, but they are poor divinity. These things are of no avail in the Book of Destiny. You were not placed upon this green earth to fan the flame of State pride, indulge the fantastic notions of artificial life, labor on the edifice of family ascendanc}^ nor even to wor- ship at the shrine of domestic affection ; 3^ou must labor for man in the fear and love of God. Do you feel or hear or perceive some great, still voice in your inmost soul saying, go to this or that work? Obey that voice at the risk of your life. When you have hushed it, for the time, does it come drumming in your ears again in the still hour of contemplation or the quiet hours of the night season? You must obey that voice, or 3^ou are a ruined man. But 3'ou think God does not call men to anything but the ministr3\ Be assured the Lord calls all men to all work, and appoints them to good, successful and honorable pursuits, would they but hear His voice. Baccalaurkatk Sermon. . 199 '' Much of the world's miser}^ poverty and shame arises from wrong pursuits; much of the ridiculous folly and fantastic vanity of every day's occurrence is but the surging of souls capable of great things, but have missed the orbit of life. Talented men fail by the thousand, because God is angry at their dis- obedience, and the same wise Providence sends mis- fortune thick and fast upon others, often to teach them that a change of life, or ruin, is their destiny. Look steadily upon the great transforming image of God's perfections, let the soul drink deeply from the great fountain of life, and make the entire business of this world one continued preparation for the next. Expect not that life's beaten way will wind through flowery fields and by pleasant streams. Look not for smiling abodes to rise up conveniently to shelter you from the storm, and to protect you at night. Expect not that smiling faces will welcome you in the far-off days of mature manhood. The halo of youthful attractions will soon pass from your heads, the novelty of a new operator in this vast world of effort will soon pass away, the last note of morning will die upon the breeze, the last dew-drop will exhale from the flowers, and clouds of dust will darken all the landscape. Friends will forsake you, enemies rise up in thick squadrons, and the cold, icy hand of this world will rest upon you with crushing weight. Your soul may be in agony and the world will laugh; your heart-strings may break and your 200 Life of Braxton Craven. quondam friends will wag their heads. God grant that 3'ou fail not in that dreadful hour! The world, in foil}' or malice, often drives noble men to the very verge of ruin. It is no small matter to see the effort of your lives mouldering down; to see your name going out in gloom, and all for which you have labored and all that you have loved lying in ruins around you. It is an awful trial for any man. Such tornadoes may devastate the kingdom of the soul in an hour, lay low the mightiest structures of virtue, and turn man from a saint into a demon. ' ' The loss of friends and the rending of earthly ties may pain the soul and make life bitter, but man can bear them — they come from God — and we bow in submission; but the trials I have just mentioned are the hardest mortality can ever meet. May the Lord spare you the terrible test; or if it must come, may His everlasting arm be around you. You now have friends, but they may pass away; that commingling of souls that now beguiles the passing hour may become a stranger to your heart. The day may come when you would give worlds for one, just one, to love you like a brother; when your soul reaches out the tendrils of affection only to be frozen to death ; when your warm inquiring, eye sees nothing but the curled lip of disdain; when your great throbbing heart beats in a vacuum. It is so sad, so bitter, so torturing to a man of a great loving heart, one that would embrace the world BACCAI.AURBATE SBRMON. 20I in his arms of affection, to find himself in a vast desert where none will call him friend or brother. Many a man at such an hour has learned to curse God and hate the world — and our only resource is in religion. In all your ways, let me entreat you to remember the orphan by da^^ and by night ; his is a hard, Oh! it is a bitter lot. There is much more poetry than truth in the world's pretended kindness to the poor, sorrowful-faced little boy that has no mother to love him and no father to protect him. He is sorely oppressed in his bo3^hood. He may dig him- self a home in the mountain granite, but orphan haunts him like a midnight ghost. In his manhood the lingering curse of his sad condition rests upon him — this world has no cavern to hide him from the opposition. I have seen his tears flow as if the foun- tains of his soul were broken up. I have seen him bow before God and ask for love to bind up his broken heart, and I have seen the cold combinations of this world grind him to powder. Always, my young friends, have a kind word for him, and treat him as a brother. ' * In all things and in all places remember gene- rosity; let it flow in living streams from your heart, let it water every desert and send gladness to the farthest limit. "This, to you, is my last sermon, possibly my last words of advice. I have transcribed much of my own experience — an experience that has burnt itself 202 Life of Braxton Craven. into soul. Four 3^ears have I preached and talked to you. If I have made any wrong impressions, may God forgive me and prevent any evil. You have seen me tempted and tried, weighed down with anxiety and buo3'ant with hope, for my life has been checked with bitter hours that I would not live it over again. I have loved you like brothers. I have prayed with 3'OU as a Christian. A few days and our next meeting will be at the judgment seat. Let us, by the Grace of God, live and die Christians. Let us put on the whole armor of Christ and be read}^ to stand in the evil day. When the hour of sorrow comes we will brush away our tears and think of heaven, and when death comes we will enter boldly into the wa}^ opened up by our great High Priest, who brought light and immortalit}^ to light by the Gospel." Southern Civilization. 20- CHAPTER V. CIVILIZATION OF THE SOUTHERN STATES— WHAT IT IS AND CAN BE. 1860. The essay begins with a discussion of Guizot's definition of civilization: "The real power of ever}^ man is what he is, not what he knows. ^ ^' The young lawyer arms himself with the memorized essentials of Blackstone, gets an index of the reports, and polishes the whole with cigar ability and a glorious swagger, and then presumes to call himself a lawyer, dreaming of mighty fees and perhaps the ermine. But the ques- tion is not how much law he has read, but how much he has eat, digested and assimilated. "" ^• The same may be said of all other professions and pursuits. Whoever has become the personation of any department in life will work in that and will succeed. It is sheer nonsense to talk about making bank clerks, tape-clerks, doctors or dandies. The youth will sail by the chart of his civilization, the real in him will beat the assumed in the long race, in spite of all tricks and odds. Whatever he has grown into he can and will do, whether it is making laws or sherr}' cobblers, defending his countr}^ or his morning nap, cultivating corn or a mustache. And this thing he will do with ' no blundering, no 204 Life of Braxton Craven. indecision, no uncertainty, but a straightforward, decisive activity, sure as insight and rapid as in- stinct.' In this you cannot impose upon him by any bedizzened eloquence, specious logic or ruse de guerre. He will penetrate all your designs, detect your false lights, and entangle you in your own snares. In his appropriate work man never tires, he never yawns over himself, but with stupendous persistenc}' moves right on to the goal. Nobody could keep John Brown from being hung. He grew up for a halter and will have it. If he cannot find it in Kansas, he will at Harper's Ferr3^ No power could arrest Luther, Franklin or Washington; Ful- ton will make steamboats, and Jackson will be mas- ter alike in New Orleans and Washington. But whence comes this working activity', this resivStless capacity, this power to do, what none, not even the owner, can hinder? Is it a gift of God, a commis- sion made out, signed, sealed and sent to be exe- cuted by the human machine, without let or hin- drance? No, verily, it is not at all of this kind! God has made worlds, animals and insects, but there is no record theological, geological or historical that He ever made a lawyer, doctor or mechanic. ' ' Speaking of the literary culture of the times, he says: "Many read Milton for the reputation of the act and memorize the names of Shakespeare's char- acters because they sound well in conversation, but few read them with fascination or pleasure. ' ' Southern Civilization. 205 "The influential literature of the South is poor and poisonous. It consists chiefly of novels, moon- struck poetr}' and newspaper intelligence. A few- reviews are in some favor, but even they are not above mediocrity. The latest pet in the fashionable Belle Lettre circle is the Eclectic, a thing altogether too fragmentary for the true scholar, and too philo- sophic for the general reader ; too imaginative for the intellect, and too cold for the heart. It is among serials a genteel sharper, puffed by the papers, quoted by sophomores, admitted to good society, and has made a fortune for its publisher. As to novels, the}- have been stigmatized till their votaries, with true burglar instinct, cr}^ fire as lustily as anybody-. It may sufiice to say that habitual readers show their authors as plainly as children their parents. So that on the street or in the drawing room you will not fail to meet sons and daughters of Eugene Sue, Bulwer, Byron, and Fanny Fern. ■5«- -Sf * ^ ^ * "With such education and development, it is not at all strange that Northern papers should be sup- ported and Southern papers left to starve. We are told that the Times does not equal the Eveni7ig Post or Harper' s Weekly, and that the Patriot is vastly in- ferior to the Herald. We might reply that potatoes are not so pungent as garlic, nor purple so brilliant as scarlet, but that does not prove that garlic and scarlet ought to be acceptable to an^-body but Mexi- cans and Arabs. 2o6 Life of Braxton Craven. ' ' One of the first steps necessar}- in the progress of self- development will be to throw aside forever the over-active, contradictor}-, incomprehensible man- ners now prevalent. We have no social scale at all. We never know when to remove our hat or wear our gloves; for one family attempts the manners of the old French noblesse, another that of the English baron; one affects .the affability of the Frenchman, another the stately hauteur of the Castilian; one hour we meet the rough kindness of the Scotchman, and the next the nice etiquette of a Pasha. These, however, are all book manners, parts learned and practiced for regular exhibition. With these we are civil without being civilized. All this must be dis- carded. If we ever reach a civilization of our own one great tone of being must pervade all hearts, one t3'pe of manners belong to all communities, etc. ' ' What then is our grade and force of civilization ; how much real life have we; how much real human- ity is in us ? We vShall not find the answer to these questions in our newspapers, our orations, or in our so-called Southern books. For, saving always the present company, no people ever surpassed the South in braggadocio, fustian, and yarns generally. Ac- cording to our own showing we are surpassingly brave — we are eager to chastise all the North and half of Europe. No doubt we have some braver}^ but after the labored research of Governor Swain and the zealous efforts of Dr. Caruthers, nothing bet- Southern Civilization. 207 ter than a decent excuse could be found for the Car- olinians' running away from the Battle of Guilford; and in spite of Fort Maultrie, Eutaw, and Kings Mountain, the fall of Charleston, and the Battle of Camden have always furnished an unpleasant remi- niscence. ' * Then here is an Amen to the prayer for a South- ern civilization; for a new t3^pe of existence, a new bloom upon the tree of life. New thoughts, cus- toms, and modes are possible — richer and holier than anything in past. There are poems among our hills, woods, and streams that have never been wrought into stanzas; grand epics linger around the graves of the Indian, waiting for the harp of an American Homer; new forms and powers of eloquence are ready to light up and electrify great deliberating or worshiping assemblies, and new^ schools of painting and sculpture may yet adorn our land and immor- talize our name. We must be superior to all that has been or be a Fata Morgana, to pass away before high noon in American glory." APPENDIX. NAOMI WISE; OR, The Wrongs of a Beautiful Girl (A TRUK STORY.) CHAPTER I. About eighty years ago there Uved where Salem now is, in the northern part of Randolph County, North Carolina, a very open and warm-hearted gen- tleman by the name of William Adams. A few families of nature's noblest qualitj^ lived in the vicin- ity. They were not emphatically rich, but were what our people csdled good livers ; they were honest, hospitable and kind ; they knew neither the luxuries nor vices of high life. Their farms supplied enough for their own tables, and surplus sufficient for a brisk trade with Fayetteville. The wild forest hills and immense glades in the neighborhood afforded boun- tiful quantities of game; whilst Deep River abounded with the finest fish. At that time the inhabitants were by no means so thickly settled as at present; tradmg as a regular business was unknown, except to a few merchants. The people were somewhat rude; still, however, hospitable and kind. 212 Life of Braxton Craven. At William Adam's lived Naomi Wise. She had early been thrown upon the cold charit}- of the world, and she had received the frozen crumbs of that charity. Her size was medium; her figure beauti- fully formed; her face handsome and expressive; her eye keen 3^et mild; her words soft and winning. She was left without father to protect, mother to counsel, brothers and sisters to love, or friends with whom to associate. Food, clothing and shelter must be earned by the labor of her own hands, not such labor, however, as females at this da}' perform. There was no place for her but the kitchen, with the prospect of occasionally going into the field. This the poor orphan accepted willingly; she was willing to labor, she was ashamed to beg. The thousand comforts that parents can find for their children are never enjoyed b}^ the fatherless. Fanaticism may rave over the chains of the African; the pit}^ of vsix- teen States can be poured out for the Southern negro ; great meetings are held to move on emancipation, but who pities the Orp/ia?i f May the Lord pity him, for man will not. At the time of which we speak, neighborhoods w^ere nearly distinct; all that lived in the same vicin- ity, generally bearing the same name. To account for this, we have only to recollect that most of our vSettlers migrated from Pennsylvania and Virginia; and that families generally came and settled together. Physical force being frequently necessary for self- Appendix. 213 defence, such families made a kind of treaty offensive and defensive. Sometimes, however, the most deadly feuds broke out among themselves. Such was the case with the Lewis family, that settled on Sandy Creek. Old David Lewis probably came from Penn- S5dvania; at least an old gentleman by name of Bu- chanan told the writer so; Buchanan w^as personally acquainted with the Lewises. David had a consid- erable family of bo3'S, all of whom were noted for their great size and strength. This was in ever}'- respect a very peculiar famih% peculiar in appearance, in character, and in destiny. The Lewises were tall, broad, muscular and very powerful men. In the manner of fighting, very common at that time, viz. : to lay aside all clothing but pantaloons, and then try for victory by striking with the fist, scratching, gouging, and biting, a Lewis was not to be van- quished. The family were the lions of the country. Their character w^as eminently pugnacious. Nearly all of them drank to intoxication; aware of powder, they insulted whom they listed; they sought occasions of quarrel as a Yankee does gold dust in California. They rode through plantations; killed their neigh- bor's cattle; took fish from other men's traps; said what they pleased; all more for contention than gain. Though the oppressed had the power, they were afraid to prosecute them; they knew these human hydras had no mercy ; they dreaded their retaliating vengeance. For these men w^ould follow their child- 2 14 Life of Braxton Craven. dren while at work, and whip them from one side of the field to the other. The}^ would compel them to stand in the 3^ard during cold rainy nights till the little creatures were frozen beyond the power of speech; and sometimes their wives shared no better fate. A fine colt belonging to Stephen Lewis once did some trifling mischief , when the owner, enraged, shot it dead upon the instant. An^^thing, man or beast, that dared to cross them, periled its life. They neither sheltered themselves under the strong arm of law, nor permitted others to do so; they neither gave nor asked merc}'. Yet these same men were unfail- ing friends, when they chose to protect. Their pledge was sure as anything human could be; if the}- threatened death or torture, those threatened always thought it prudent to retire to the very uttermost part of the earth; if they vowed protection, their protege felt secure. Some of their remote relations are still in this country; the}' are among our most worthy citizens, but they never tamelj^ submit to insult. Some inquire how such men as the Lewises could ever intermarry with other families? who would unite themselves to such cold-hearted crea- tures ? While such characters are, in some respects, to be abhorred, 3'et there is about them that has in all ages been attractive. Ladies are accused, because they fall in love with fops, of wanting common sense, and of loving vanit}' rather than substance. The accu- Appendix. 215 sation is false. Except the love of a Christian for his Lord, the love of a woman vs^Wio. purest and truest thing on earth; sweet as the incense of heaven, soft as the air of paradise, and confiding as the lamb; it scorns the little, the vile and the treacherous. The tendrils of woman's affection despise the shrubs of odor and beauty, but entwine closely and eternally around high forest trees that are exposed to howling storms and the thunders of Jove. The trees may be rough and crooked, but then they are trees. Find a man, a great intellectual power, of iron will, of reck- less daring, but of unshaken fidelity; in such you find a master magnet around which women's hearts collect by natural attraction. But how can a pure and good woman love a wicked man? Nonsense, thou puritan! She does not love his wickedness, but his soul. Did not the Saviour love a wicked world, though he died to destroy its wickedness ? Then a woman will love a wicked man better than a good one, will she ? No, she will love a good man much best, other things being equal. But you make daring deeds of wickedness the exponent of man's greatness. I do no such thing. I make actions that require power, energ}^, and firmness, test of great- ness; that such actions should be tainted with evil is a blot that mars them in no small degree; but still they are great actions, i. e., the products of power- ful minds. There are certain philosophers in the world that would make all great actions cease to be 2i6 Life of Braxton Craven. great when they ceased to be good; they would measure their greatness directly as their goodness. These are evidently two different qualities, the one measuring the action per se, the other its moral char- acter. Genuine love is as follows: woman loves the power which is able to support and protect, and if that power be good she will love it the more. Man loves the gentle confiding one that leans upon him with confidence and trusts him with her destiny; if she be good, he will love her the more. This may be grossly misconstrued; h\x\. fools ivill not see, and the wise can see our meaning. It is, therefore, plain enough. We will hazard an axiom or two while on this point. No woman will or can really love a man who is intellectually her inferior. No man can love a woman that has not confidence in his fidelity and protection. If a powerful man be true to his wife, she being what she should, she will love him though he stain his hands in blood, and be guilty of the foulest deeds known in the catalogue of crime. But this is an unpardonable digression; let us return. But few of the Lewises died natural deaths. Ste- \ phen Lewis was most unmerciful to his wife. He frequently whipped her with hobblerods, and other- wise abused her beyond endurance. Finally, by aid of Richard, a brother of Stephen's, she escaped from home and spent several months at an acquaintance's. Richard at length told Stephen that his wife would Appkndix. 217 return, if he would promise never more to abuse her. This he promised upon the word of a lyewis. He therefore told him to come to his house on a certain daj', and he would find her. At the time appointed Stephen went, and found his wife and took her on his horse to convey her home. On the way he made her tell the means of her escape and the agents em- ployed. The agent, as we have said, was his brother Richard. Stephen went home ; kindl}^ told his wife that he should henceforth treat her very kindly, but that he intended to shoot the scoundrel, Richard. Loading his gun, he immediately returned to his brother's. Richard, happening to observe his ap- proach and conjecturing the object, fled upstairs with his gun. Stephen entered the house and en- quired for Richard. Not learning from the family, and supposing him upstairs, he started up, and as his head came in view Richard shot him, but did not kill him. Stephen was carried home, and for a long time was unable even to sit up, still swearing, how- ever, that when he recovered he would shoot Rich- ard. His brother, knowing the threat would be ex- ecuted, went to the house one day, and while Stephen was sitting on the bedside, liaving his wounds dressed, through a crack of the house Richard shot him through the heart. It is said that the manner of men's deaths frequently resembles their lives. The fate of the Lewises seems to comfirm the fact. They were heartless tyrants while they lived, and as tyrants deserve, they died cruel and bloody deaths. 15 2x8 Life of Braxton Craven. CHAPTER II. " Like a lovelj' tyro She grew to woniaiihood. and between whiUs Rejected several suitors, just to ]earn How to accept a worse one in his turn." — Byron Naomi Wise was a lovely girl, just blooming into all the attractiveness of nineteen. Though serving as cook and sometimes as outdoor hand, she was the light of the family, and was treated better than such persons usually are. She was neatly dressed, rode to church on a fine horse and was the occasion of many youngsters visiting the house of Mr. Adams. Among those who frequently found it convenient to call at Mr. Adams' was Jonathan Lewis. His father, Richard Lewis (the same that shot Stephen) lived near Centre Meeting-house, on Polecat creek, in Guilford county. Jonathan was clerking for Benja- min Elliott, at Asheboro, in Randolph, and in pass- ing from Centre to Ashboro, it was directly in his way to pass through New Salem. Jonathan, like the others of the same name, was a large, well-built, dignified-looking man. He was young, daring and impetuous. If he had lived in Scotland he would have been a worthy companion for Sir William Wal- lace or Robert Bruce; in England he would have vied with the Black Prince in coolness and bravery; in France he might have stood by the side of Mc- Donald in the central charge at Wagram ; in our own revolution his bravery and power w^ould, perhaps, Appendix. 219 have saved the day at Brand3^vvine. He was com- posed of the fiercest elements; his wrath was like whirlwinds and scathing lightning; his smile, like sunbeams bursting through a cloud, illumined every countenance upon which it fell. He never indulged in tricks or small sport — the ordinary pastimes of youth had no attraction for him. The smallest ob- servation w^ould teach us that such men are capable of anything; once engaged, they are champions in the cause of humanit}^; but once let loose, like un- chained lions, they tear to pieces both friends and foes. The greatest men are capable of being the greatest scourges. Leonidas was a rock upon which Persia broke, but some provocation might have made him a rock by which Greece would have been ground to powder. Dirk Hatteraik was a daring smuggler, that in a low, black lugger defied the power of Eng- land; if the government had treated this man wisely he might have been an admiral to eclipse Nelson. Our daring, headstrong boys are generally given over as worthless, and here is the mistake: the world neither understands the mission nor management of such powerful minds. Bucephalus was pronounced a worthless animal by the whole court of Philip; Alexander alone perceived his value and knew how to manage him; and, in fact, Bucephalus was the greatest horse the world ever saw. Jonathan Lewis saw Naomi Wise and loved her. She was the gentle, confiding, unprotected creature 220 Life of Braxton Craven. that a man like Lewis would lovebj' instinct. Hence- forward he was a frequent visitor at Adams'. The dark clouds that had so long hovered over the orphan were breaking away; the misty, dim vista of the future now opened with clear light and boundless prospects of good; the fogs rolled awa}- from the valley of life, and Naomi saw a pretty pathway, bordered with flow- ers, and crossed only by little rills of purest water. Her young and guileless heart beat with new and higher life; that she was loved b}^ a man so power- ful as Lewis, was sufficient recompense for a cheer- less childhood. Daj^ and night she labored to pro- cure the indispensables of housekeeping; for in those days it was esteemed disreputable if a girl, b}- the time she was twenty, had not made or earned for herself a bed, some chairs, pots, tubs, &c. And a young lad}^ then modestly displayed her things to her lover with as much care as modern misses dis- play their painting, needle-work, and acquirements on the piano. Instead of going to the piano, to the dance and other such latter-day inventions, young- sters then went with the ladies to milk the cows, and displa}^ their gallantr}^ b}^ holding away the calves while the operation w^as performed; they then accom- panied the damsels to the spring to put away the milk, and brought back a pail of water. Time flew on. Lewis still continued as clerk, and had won the good opinion of his employer. Naomi was blooming in all the charms of early womanhood; Appendix. 221 her love for Lewis was pure and ardent, and the rumor was abroad that a marriage was shortly to take place. But an evil genius crossed the path of Lewis in the shape of his mother. Her ambition and avarice projected for her son a match of different character. She deemed it in the range of possibility that Jonathan might obtain the hand of Hettie Elliott, the sister of Benjamin Elliott, his employer. That mothers are ambitious everybody knows, and that they are the worst of matchmakers is equall}- well known. But Mrs. Lewis thought Miss Elliott a prize worthy an effort at least. The Elliotts were wealthy, honorable and in high repute. They have always stood high in this county, and citizens have delighted to honor them with public favor and pri- vate friendship. Mr. B. Elliott, Hettie' s brother, evidently prized Lewis highly; he regarded him as an honorable, intelligent and industrious young gen- tleman, and no doubt thought him a respectable match for his sister. Lewis made some advances to Hettie, which were received in suCh a wa}^ as to in- spire hope. This was the turning tide in the fortunes of Lewis. The smile of one superior to Naomi Wise in every respect, except beaut}' and goodness; the earnest exhortations of an influential mother, and the prospect of considerable property, bore down all obstacles. The pure love to Miss Wise, the native and genuine passion of his own heart, were not equal to a conflict with pride and avarice. Not but that 22 2 Life of Braxton Craven. Lewis, as any other man, could and would love Miss Elliott. She was accomplished, beautiful, and of charming manners — an Elliott could not be other- wise. But these were not the attractions that won Lewis. Money, famih' connection, name and station w^ere the influences that clouded the fair prospects of innocence, opened the flood-gates of evil, and in- volved all the parties concerned in ruin. Tupper has wisely said that nothing in this w^orld is single; all things are in pairs, and the perfection of earthly existence consists in properl}^ pairing all the separate elements. Two elements properlj^ adapted have a natural attraction, and firmly adhere, amid all circumstances of prosperity or disaster; but two elements improperl}^ mated repel each other with natural and undying repulsion, in spite of circum- stances or calculations. The j'oung instinctively and naturally love those that would make them happ}-; but pride, famil}' interference and coldhearted calcu- lation often interpose; sordid considerations tear asunder the holiest chords of affection, and vainly attempt to thwart nature's own promptings. Lewis loved Miss Wise for herself; no selfish motive moved his heart or tongue; this would have been a union of peace and joy. He wished to marry Miss Elliott, not because he loved her, but influenced wholly by other and base considerations. An old adage says, "The better anything is in its legitimate sphere, the worse it is when otherwise Appendix. 223 employed." lyewis, no doubt, would have been an honorable and useful man, if he had married Naomi; he would then have been using the highest and strongest principle of human nature in a proper manner. In an evil hour he listened to the tempter; he turned aside from the wa3^s of honor and truth. His eyes became blinded, conscience, the star of human destiny, lost her polarity, and the fierce storms drove his proud ship into the maelstrom of ruin. Jonathan I^ewis was no more the proud, manly gen- tleman; he was henceforth a hard-hearted, merciless wretch. He was a hyena, skulking about the path- way of life, ready alike to kill the living and to tear the dead from their graves. He not only resolved to forsake a lovel}- damsel, but first to ruin her fair name. His resolve w^as accomplished. He might have foreseen that this would ru-in his prospects with the beautiful Miss Elliott; but the "wicked are blind and fall into the pit their own hands have digged." There are many young men now moving in high society that think violets were created to be crushed by haughty boot heels; that desert flowers should rather be blasted than waste their sweetness on the air; that pearls should rather adorn a Cyclops than sparkle in their native deep. Not so, ye canni- bals. If names must be blasted and characters ruined, in the name of heaven let your victims come from among the affluent and the honorable. Who will pity and protect the poor daughter of shame; who 224 Life of Braxton Craven. will give her a crumb of bread ? The more wealthy victim might, at least, have bread to eat, water to drink, and wherewithal to be clothed. Ye fair, blooming daughters of povert}^, shun the advances of those who avoid you in company, as you would shun the grim monster death. Lewds, aware that a period was approaching that would mar all his hopes, unless they should imme- diately be consummated, urged his suit with all pos- sible haste. Miss Elliott, however, baffled him on ever}^ tack, and though she encouraged him, gave him but little hope of succeeding immediatel3^ In the meanwhile, Naomi urged the fulfilment of his promise, that he would marry her forthwith, seconded b}' the power of tears and* pra^'ers. When these means seemed unavailing, she threatened him with the law. Lewis, alarmed at this, charged her, at peril of life, to remain silent; he told her that their marriage w^as sure, but that very peculiar circum- stances required all to be kept silent. But before he could bring matters to an issue wdth Miss Elliott, rumor whispered abroad the engagement and disgrace of Naomi Wise. This rumor fell like thunder upon Lewis; the depths of a dark but powerful soul were awakened; his hopes were quivering upon a balance w^hich the next breath threatened with ruin. With a coolness and steadiness which innocence is wont to wear, Lewis affirmed to Miss Elliott that said rumor was a base, malicious slander, circulated b}^ the ene- Appendix. 225 mies of the Lewis family to ruin his character, and offered that time, a very fair arbiter, should decide upon the report, and if adjudged guilty, he would reHnquish all claim to her (Miss EUiott's) hand. For several days Lewis was apparently uneasy, appeared abstracted, neglected his business, and was not a little ill. Mr. Elliott assigned one cause. Miss Elliott another, but the true one was unknown to any one. The kingdom was in commotion, dark deeds were in contemplation, and at length the die was cast. Mrs. Adams had frequently of late told Naomi that Lewis did not intend to marry her; that he was playing a game of villainy, and that she should place no further confidence in any of his assertions; but the poor girl thought or hoped differently; she could not and would not believe that Jonathan Lewis was untrue. ^Woman's love cannot doubt. Lewis at length came to see Miss Wise, and told her that he washed not to delay the marriage any longer; that he had made all necessary arrangements, and that he would come and take her to the house of a magistrate on a certain day. She urged the propriety of the marriage taking place at the house of Mr. Adams; but he refused, and she, without much reluctance, consented to his wishes. Time sped on; the last morn rolled up the eastern vault in his chariot, dispensing light and joy to milHons; Naomi walked forth with light heart and step, thinking only of her coming nuptials. During the day, in the midst of her anticipations, gloomy 226 Life of Braxton Craven. forebodings would disturb her. Like the light breeze preceding the storm, they seemed to come and go without cause. So true is it that " Coming events cast their shadows before." She told nothing of what was about to take place to Mr. Adams; but at the appointed time, taking the water pail in her hand, she went to the spring, the place at which she had agreed to meet Lewis. He soon appeared and took her behind him. It is said that the stump from which Naomi mounted remains to this day, and may be seen by any one who will visit New Salem. " The last lone relic of Naomi's love, A speaking monument of a wretch's heart: Like love, its grasp time scarce can move. Like treachery, corruption lurks in every part." The strong steed bore Naomi rapidly from the home of her childhood and youth; from the kind Mrs. Adams that was wont to soothe in every trouble. CHAPTER III. Naomi very soon perceived that they were not ap- proaching the magistrate, by whose mystic knot sorrow was to be killed and joy born; but, to her great surprise, Lewis kept the direct road to the river, speaking to her in the meantime with rather a strange voice and an incoherent manner. She tried to im- agine his object, but she was convinced that he would not take her to Asheboro, and she knew of no magis- Appendix. 227 trate in that direction. Every effort, therefore, failed to give her troubled mind any peace. Slackening his pace to a slow walk, Lewis and Naomi held the following conversation: " Naomi, which do you think is the easiest: a slow or sudden death ?' ' "I'm sure I don't know^; but what makes you ask me that question?" "Why, I was just thinking about it. But which would you prefer, if you could have choice?" ' ' I would try to be resigned to whatever Provi- dence might appoint, and since we cannot have a choice, it is useless to have any preferences." "Well, Naomi, do you think 3^ou would like to know the time when you are to die ?" "Why, Jonathan, what do you mean by such questions? I have never thought of such matters; and I am sure I never knew you to be mentioning such things before." Lewis rode on for some time without making any reply, seeming in a deep revery; but in fact in the most intense excitement. At length he remarked: "Well, Naomi, I believe I know both the time and manner of your death, and I think it is in my power to give you a choice." This ran through the poor girl like a dart of death ; it was some minutes before she could make any reply. "For the Lord's sake, Jonathan, what do you mean? Do 3^ou intend to kill me, or why do j^ou talk so?" 228 Life of Braxton Craven. "I will never harm 3'ou; we shall be married in two hours. As you see, I am not going to , as I first intended, but am going across the river, where we shall have a nice wedding. ' ' "Jonathan, I'm afraid everj'thing is not right, and I feel so bad this evening. I had rather go home and put it off till another day." "No, no; that will not do. I tell you, again, you need not fear any thing. Just be perfectly contented, and fear no harm from him that loves you better than himself." They were now on a high bluff that commanded an extensive view of the river and the country be- yond. The bold, rocky channel of the stream was distinctly visible for a great distance to the south- east, whilst from the northwest came the river, now swollen by recent rains, roaring and tumbling over rocky ledges, and then moving calmly away. A l3lue crane was flying slowly above the bed of the stream, whilst amid the dwarf pines and cedars that grew upon the crags, many ravens were cawing and screaming. This scenery, heightened by the dusk of evening, strongly impressed Naomi's mind. She remarked to Lewis: " I am almost afraid to be in this lonely place; I wish we were away. O! how happy I should be, if we had a quiet home like yon from which that smoke is rising away over the hills. It may be foolishness, Jonathan, but I want you to be careful in going Appendix. 229 down these banks and crossing the river. I have so often feared something would happen to prevent the happiness we expect, and I am sure I never felt so bad in my life. " Lewis reined up his horse, stopped for a short time, then started forward, muttering: "I will though;! I am a coward. ' ' Miss Wise asked him what he was sa^'ing; he replied that he only meant that they should be married that night. The river was here tolerabl}^ wide and below the ford some little turf- islands, covered with alders and willows, made sev- eral sluices. Lewis rushed his horse in the water, which came up to his sides, and plunged forward rapidlj^ till he reached the middle of the channel. Then stopping his beast and turning himself in the saddle, he said to Naomi in a husky voice: " Naomi, I will tell you what I intend to do; I intend to drown you in this river; we can never marr}^ I found I I could never get away from 3^ou, and I am determined to drown you." *'0! Jonathan, Jonathan," screamed the victim, "you do not, cannot mean what you say; do not terrify me so much, and make haste out of here." "I mean," said Lewis, "just what I say; you will never go from here alive. You cannot move me by words or tears; my mind is fixed. I swear by all that's good or bad, that you have not five minutes to live. You have enticed me to injure m}^ charac- ter, you have made me neglect my business. You 230 Life of Braxton Craven. ought never to have been such a fool as to expect that I would marry such a girl as j^ou are You did not expect that I was taking you off to marry you, when 3'ou got up behind me; you no doubt thought I would take you to Asheboro, and keep you there as a base . Prepare to die. ' ' " My Lord, what shall I do?" said Naomi. "You know I have loved you with my whole soul; I have trusted 3^ou, and when you betrayed me I never reviled you. How often did I tell you that 3^ou did not intend to marry me ! How many times did I be- seech you to be honest with me! And after all, 3^ou certainly wdll not drown me ? O, Jonathan, for heaven's sake take me out of this river! Do, Oh, do! O, spare my life! I will never ask you to marry me. I will leave the country. I will never mention your name again, and " Lewis stopped short her entreaties by grasping her throat with his left hand; her struggles immediately threw them both from the horse. Being a tall, strong man, he held her above the water until he tied her dress above her head, and then held her under beneath his foot, until he was alarmed by a glare of torches approaching along the road he had just come. He mounted his horse and dashed out of the river on the south side. Mrs. Davis lived at no great distance from the river, and had heard the death screaming of poor Naomi, She had heard the startling cry as the vil- Appendix. 231 lain caught her b}^ the throat; then she heard the wild wail when she arose from the water, and lastly, the stifled sobs as she was muflied in her dress. The old lady called her bo3^s and bid them hasten to the ford; that somebody was murdered or drowned. But they were afraid to go; they hesitated and parleyed. At last the}^ set out with glaring torches, but it was too late. They arrived only in time to hear the mur- derer leaving the opposite bank. They neither saw nor heard Naomi. She was already dead; her last scream had died away, her last gasping groan had arisen through the rippling waters, and her body was floating amid the willows of a turf- island. A pure and beautiful damsel, she had attracted the admira- tion of a cold-hearted world without gaining its respect ; her pathway had been waylaid by those who thought poor, unprotected beauty bloomed only to be blasted. Her pure and ardent affections, having never enjoyed the sunshine of love, were ready to grasp the first support that offered. She had given her heart to a deceiver; she had trusted her life to a destroyer, and the murmuring waves that now bathed her lifeless form, and rocked her on their cold bosom, were the only agents, perhaps, that had ever acted towards her without selfishness. Early on the next morning the people of her home were searching in all directions for Naomi. Mrs. Adams had passed a sleepless night; a strange im- pression had instantly fixed itself upon her mind as 232 Life of Braxton Craven. soon as Naomi was missed, and in her broken slum- bers during the night she was aroused by sometimes imagining that Xaomi called her, at other times by dreaming that she saw her dead, and again b)^ think- ing she heard her screaming. At earh^ dawn she aroused the vicinity, and going to the spring the tracks of a horse were readily discovered, and b}" the sign, it was evident that Xaomi had mounted from the stump. The companj^ followed the track until Mrs. Davis and her boys were met coming in haste to tell the circumstances of the preceding evening. The old lad}^ told the crowd of the screaming she had heard; that the boys had gone down w4th the lights and heard a horseman galloping from the op- posite bank. "Ah!" said the old lady, "murder's been done; sich unearthly screams can't come of nothing; they made the hair rise on my head, and the'ver}' blood curdle in my heart. No doubt poor Naomi's been drowned. O! ef I had been young as I once was, I would a run down there and killed the rascal afore he could a got away! What is the world a coming to?" The compan}^ hastened to the river, and in a few moments discovered the bod}*, still muffled in the clothing. She was quickly borne to the shore and laid upon a rock; upon the fair neck of the dead were still to be seen the marks of the ruffian's fingers. The coroner was sent for, the jury summoned, and Appendix. • 233 the verdict pronounced, "Drowned by violence." Some one of the vast crowd now assembled suggested that Lewis should be • sought and brought to the corpse ere it was interred. This was assented to by acclamation, but who would do it? Who would dare to apprehend a Lewis ? A firm, brave officer of Randolph accepted the task, and having selected his company from the numerous candidates — for every j^outh on the ground offered — proceeded to Asheboro. So soon as Lewis saw the lights coming while he was at his work of death, as above said, he dashed out of the river, having no doubt that the water would bear the body into the deep pools below the ford, and render discovery impossible. We have seen that in this he was disappointed. Leaving the river, he rode rapidl}^ around to another ford and hastened to his father's, near Centre Meeting-house. He dashed into the room where his mother was sit- ting, and asked for a change of clothes. The old lad}^, alarmed, asked him why he came at that time of week (for he usuall}^ came on Sunday); why he was wet, and why he looked so pale and spoke in such a strange voice. He replied that he had started home on some business, and that his horse had fallen with him into the river, and that his wet clothes made him look pale, and altered his voice. His mother had too much sagacity to believe such a tale, but she could obtain from him no other explanation. Having 16 234 Life of Braxton Craven. procured a change of apparel, he departed and arrived at Asheboro early next morning. Riding up to Col. Craven's, he called at the door. Mrs. Craven an- swered the call, and exclaimed in astonishment: "What's the matter Lewis; what have you been doing? Have you killed 'Omi Wise?" Lewis was stunned. Raising his hand and rub- bing his eyes, he said: "Why, what makes you ask me that question?" "No particular reason," said Mrs. Craven, "only you look so pale and wild; you don't look at all like yourself this morning. ' ' Lewis made no repl}-, but the flushed countenance which he exhibited would have afforded no small evidence to a close observer, that something was wrong. So true is it, that "The wicked flee when no man pursueth." Leaving Asheboro, Lewis went to a sale at a Mr. Hancock's, at a place now owned by Thomas Cox. During the day it was remarked by man}^ that Jonathan Lewis had a cast of counte- nance b}^ no means usual. Instead of that bold, daring independence that was usual to him, he seemed reserved, downcast and restless. By indulging freely in drink, which was alwa3'S to be had on such occa- sions, he became more like himself toward evening, and even ventured to mingle with the ladies. For it should be observed, that in those days the ladies attended vendues, elections, musters, etc., without derogation to their characters. And in very many Appendix. 235 places a 3'oung man showed his gallantr}^ by collect- ing the fair ones whom he would honor, and con- ducting them to some wagon, where his liberality was displayed by purchasing cakes, cider, etc. Let it not be supposed" that this custom was confined to the low or vulgar, for the practice was well nigh universal. Our ladj^ readers must not think it be- neath their dignity to read of such characters, for our mothers, and perhaps theirs also, have received such treats. Lewis, on the occasion above named, seemed particularly attracted b}^ Martha, the daugh- ter of Stephen Huzza. After waiting upon her, according to the manner of the times, Lewis accom- panied her home. The manner of courting at that day was very different from what now prevails. The custom then was, for the young people to remain in the room after the old people retired, then seat them- / selves beside each other and there remain until twelve or one o'clock. Lewis had taken his seat and drawn Martha into his lap — rather a rude move even at that time, and not a little contrary to Martha's will — when a gentle rap was heard at the door. While the inmates w^ere listening to hear it repeated, the door opened and Robert Murdock, the brave officer who had pursued Lewis, entered, attended b}^ a re- tinue that at once overawed the unarmed murderer. He suffered himself to be quietly arrested and taken back to the river bank, where his victim still re- mained. 236 Life of Braxton Craven. He put his hand upon her face, and smoothed her hair, apparently unmoved. So greatly was the crowd incensed at this hard-hearted audacit}^ that the authority of the officer was scarceh' sufficient to prevent the villain being killed upon the spot. The evidence against Lewis, though circumstantial, was deemed conclusive. The foot-prints from the stump to the river exactly fitted his horse; hairs upon the skirt in w^hich she rode, were found to fit in color; a small piece torn from Lewis' accoutrement, fitted both rent and texture; his absence from Asheboro, and many other minute circumstances all conspired to the same point. In proper form he was commit- ted to jail in Asheboro to await his trial. A vast compan}^ on the next day attended the remains of Naomi to the grave. The whole communit}^ mourned her untimely death; the aged wiped the falling tear from their wrinkled faces; the young men stood there in deep solemnit}', and sighed over the fair one now pale in death; manj^, very many maidens wept over betrayed and blasted innocence, and all were melted in grief when the shroud hid the face of Naomi for- ever. The writer knows not the place of her grave, else would he visit that lonely place; he would place at her head a simple stone, to tell her name, her excel- lence and her ruin; he would plant there appropriate emblems, and drop a tear over the memory of her who sleeps beneath. Appendix. 237 Oh! fair as the wild flower, close to thee growing, How pure was thy heart till love's witchery came, Like the wind of the South o'er a summer lute blowing, It hushed all its music and withered Its fame. The young village maid, when with flowers she dresses Her dark flowing hair for some festival daj', Will think of thy fate till neglecting her tresses, She mournfully turns from the mirror away." CHAPTER IV. Though Lewis was confined in the strong jail that i then towered in Asheboro as a terror to evil-doers, his was not the character to yield without an effort; and such was his strength, skill, or assistance that he soon escaped. He broke jail and fled to parts \ unknown. Time rolled on, bearing upon its ever changing surface new scenes, actions and subjects of thought. Naomi was beginning to fade from mem- ory, and I^ewis was scarcely thought of. The whole tragedy would, perhaps, have been nearly in the sea of oblivion, but for the song of ''Omi Wise,'' which was sung in every neighborhood. At length rumor, the persecutor and avenger, gave tidings that Jona- than Lewis was living at the Falls of Ohio, was ^ married, had one child, and considered in prosperous circumstances. The murdered girl rose fresh in the minds of the people. Justice cried, " cut the sinner down." Indignation cried shame to the lingering servants of law. Colonel Craven, Colonel Lane, and George Swearengain, properly commissioned, started 238 Life of Braxton Craven. in quest of the criminal. Many were the sighs and expressions of anxiety that escaped their friends, when these worthy citizens departed. All were aware that the enterprise was perilous. Most of the Lewis famil}^ had migrated to the same region, and one Lewis was not trifled with, much less a commu- nity of such personages. But brave men, especially of Randolph count}', sustained by justice, never count the foe, or ask a parle}^ Having arrived in the neighborhood, or rather in the countr}^ (for the}^ were yet man}- miles from Lewis' home) the}' made inquir}' until they found the circumstances and posi- tion of the families. Knowing that if they appeared in person their object would be defeated, the}' hired two sturdy hunters for a fee of seventy-five dollars to take Jonathan, dead or alive, "and deliver him at a certain town. "No work, no pay." The three officers went to the town to await the issue, and if it failed, to collect, if possible, such force as might be necessary to wage civil war upon the whole offend- ing tribe. The hunters, unknown to the Lewises, having arrived in the immediate vicinity, learned that a great dance was to take place that night at a house in the neighborhood, and that all the Lewises would be there. They concluded that the occasion would either enable them to execute their object, or at least to make some useful observations; they accordingly rode to the place, in appearance and profession two Appendix. 239 wandering backwoodsmen. Arriving at the rude fence in front of the house and seeing a considerable number alread}^ collected, one of the hunters cried: "Hallo to the man of the house and all his friends !' ' " Hallo back to you," said a voice wnthin, " and maybe you'd light and look at your saddle?" * ' Apt as not, ' ' said the hunter, ' ' if we're allowed to see our saddles on the peg, our bosses eatin' fod- der, and ourselves merry over hog and hominy." '*Ef 3^ou are what you look like," said the land- lord, stepping into the yard, ''and not Yankee speculators, nor bamboozled officers, nor Natchez sharpers, 3^ou are welcome to sich as we have." " And 'spose we are not what we look like," re- plied the hunter, ' ' what then ?' ' "Why, the sooner you move your washing the better; we're plain, honest folks here and deal with all scatterlopers arter their deserts. ' ' "Well, well, we'll light and take some of your pone and a little of your bhnkeye, and maybe as how we'll get better acquainted." So saying the strangers alighted, and having seen their horses supplied with a bountiful quantity of provender, they entered the house and mingled with the guests, without exciting suspicion or even much notice. They had previously agreed that one should do the talking, lest they might commit some incon- gruities. A glance convinced them that Jonathan Lewis was not there. The guests continued to as- 240 Life of Braxton Craven. semble, women, men and children; an old wrinkled- faced vagabond commenced tuning his violin, and the parties were arranging themselves for the dance, when a strong, powerful man entered. His hair was long, bushy and matted as if it had never known the virtue of a comb; his eyebrows were dark and heavy; his step was decided and firm; he wore a belted hunting shirt, in the band of which hung a long, double-edged hunting knife, and under its folds were plainly visible two heavy pistols. His keen eye de- tected the strangers instantly, and forthwith he sought the landlord at the other end of the house, and engaged him for a time in whispers. Our hun- ters knew their man, and watched him with no small anxiety, nor was it long until he approached them and said: " I reckon you're strangers in these parts ?" "I reckon we are, too, being we know nobody and nobody knows us; and we're perlite enough not to trouble strangers wnth foolish questions, and so I guess we shall still be strangers." This answer to his implied question evidently displeased the interrogator; after eyeing them a mo- ment, he continued: " But maybe we all come from the same land, and so might scrape an acquaintance easier than you think." "As to that, it's no difference, without telling or asking names, we give the right hand to every hon- est hunter." Appendix. 241 "Then you're hunters, I 'spose, and as we have a great deer hunt to-morrow, perhaps you'll join." "That we will, ef its agreeable." The dance passed off without anything remarka- ble, and early next morning the horns were sound- ing, the dogs yelping, and everything alive for the hunt. In arranging the couples to stand at the crosses, it so happened that Jonathan and our talk- ing hunter were stationed together, and the other stranger at no great distance. The drivers had de- parted, and the marksmen were reclining at ease or examining their firelocks, when Jonathan discovered that he had no powder. As it would probably be an hour or two before the game would appear, Lewis proposed to his companion that they should go to the village and supply themselves with powder. They had no sooner started than the other hunter discov- ered his comrade to give the signal. He accordingly follow^ed at some distance in the rear. Close by the village he met Lewis and his companion on their return. The hunters exchanged signs and agreed to make the effort; they were fully aware of their peril, for though two against one, they knew their antagonist to be much more powerful than either, and to be well armed. The hunter that met them pretended that he had become alarmed when he missed them, not knowing what might happen, and that he had come in search; then asking about the powder, requested to see some. While Lewis was 242 Life of Braxton Craven. pouring some into his hand, the other seized him from behind, in order to hold his hands fast, while the front man, grasping him by the legs, endeavored to throw him. Like a second Sampson, Lewis tore his arms from the grasp of the hunter, and with a backhanded blow sent him near a rod backw^ards, at the same time kicking down the man that was before him. But before he could level his gun, the first hunter gave him such a blow with the barrel of his gun that he reeled and fell; but pointing his gun as the second hunter came, he would have shot him dead if the other had not struck his arm. The flash of the gun, however, set fire to the powder, that in the melee had been spilled upon the hunter's clothes and scorched the w^hole compan}- not a little. Lewis, better capable of enduring such catastrophes than the others, taking advantage of the confusion, would have made his escape had not the villagers arrived in sufficient strength to overpower him by force of numbers. Colonel Craven and his companions received Lewis bound with strong cords, and immediatel}^ started for Carolina, nor did they travel at a moderate rate, well knowing that if the Lewis family, with their confederates, should overtake them death would be the fate of the weaker party; nor did the hunters tarry in the vicinity, but hurried themselves far away in the western wilds. After Lewis found that further resistance would be useless, he seemed to Appendix 243 submit to his fate and became tractable and social. So much so that his bonds were somewhat slackened, and his captivity less strict. He awakened no sus- picion by asking them to be less cautious, and seemed so much more social than they had ever known him, that his guards were almost tempted to free him from all restraint. One evening, while indulging their glee around the camp-fire, Lewis, unobserved, untied his bonds, and springing up, darted off with the agility of a youth. Craven and Swearengain pur- sued, but Craven was, ere long, left some distance in the rear. They were now^ in a low bottom and the evening had so far advanced that Swearengain, who was close in pursuit, could onl}' see Lewis by the whiteness of his clothes. So expert was Lewis in dodging that he constantly eluded the grasp of his pursuer, and was now within a few paces of a dense thicket. Swearengain, making a spring, struck Lewis with a blow so effectual that it felled him to the earth, and before he could regain his feet he was overpowered b}^ both of his pursuers. Lewis was finaUy brought to Randolph, from which county his trial was moved to Guilford, where he was finally tried and acquitted. Most of the material witnesses had died or moved away, and much of the minutiae was forgotten. After his re- lease he returned to Kentucky, and died in a few years afterwards. After all hopes of his recovery were given up, and his friends watched around his 244 Life of Braxton Craven. couch only to perform the last sad offices of life, he still lingered. He seemed to suffer be5^ond human conception; the contortions of his face were too horrid for human gaze; his groans were appalling to the ear. For two days the death rattle had been in his throat, and 3'et he retained his reason and speech. Finally, he bid ever}- person leave the room but his father, and to him he confessed all the circumstances we have detailed. He declared that while in prison Naomi was ever before him; his sleep was broken by her cries for mercy, and in the dim twilight her shadow^y form was ever before him, holding up her imploring hands. Thus ended the career of Jona- than Lewis, for no sooner was his confession com- pleted than his soul seemed to hasten away. The following is the song so well known in this country as POOR NAOMI. Come, all you good people, I'd have you draw near: A sorrowful story you quickly shall hear; A story I'll tell 3^ou, about N'omi Wise — How she was deluded by Lewis' lies. * ' He promised to marry and use me quite well ; But conduct contrary I sadly must tell. He promised to meet me at Adams' Springs; He promised me marriage and many fine things. Appendix. 245 "Still nothing he gave, but 3^et flattered the case, He saj^s, 'We'll be married and have no disgrace; Come get up behind me, we'll go up to town, And there we'll be married, in union be bound.' * * I got up behind him and straightway did go To the banks of Deep river, where the water did flow; He says, ' Now, Naomi, I'll tell you my mind, I intend here to drown you, and leave you behind.' " ' O! pity your infant and spare me my life; Let me go, rejected, and not be 3'our wife.' * No pity, no pity,' this monster did cry, * In Deep river's bottom your body shall lie.' " The wretch then did choke her, as we understand, And threw her in the river, below the milldam. Be it murder or treason, oh! what a great crime, To murder poor Naomi and leave her behind. Naomi was missing, they all did well know. And hunting for her to the river did go; And there found her, floating on the water so deep, Which caused all the people to sigh and to weep. The neighbors were sent for, to see the great sight, While she la}^ floating all that long night. So early next morning the inquest was held, The jury correctly the murder did tell. NoTK. — It is said that in the dusk of evening the following little song may be heard about the river, in accents sweet as the voice of angels: 246 Life of Braxton Craven. Beneath these crystal waters, A maiden once did lie, The fairest of earth's daughters, A gem to deck the sk}-. In caves of pearled enamel, We weave an amber shroud For all the foolish damsels, That dare to stray abroad. We live in rolling billows, We float upon the mist. We sing on foaming pillows: " Poor Naomi of the past." On July 7th, 1879, Mr. J. B. Randleman and the present Naomi Falls Company commenced building a cotton factory, which to-daj^ stands as a monument of their energy and enterprise. There is now a beau- tiful town of about 500 inhabitants, and the hum of 5000 spindles and the clash of 164 looms and the voices of 225 employees are heard within less than 200 yards of the ford where the tragedy, referred to in this book, was enacted. This place was named in honor of Naomi, who was buried on the plantation upon which Calvin Swim now lives, in sight of Naomi Falls Factor}-. The spring where Naomi met Lewis and mounted his horse on the fatal night, is now used to supply water for the New Salem Steam Mill and Tannery Company. Mr. J. N. Caudle's barn now stands about where Mr. Adams' house then stood. 'C^^^^'-"^^^-^' \j/c<^.:>^lkM'. -^tt^—^m iiMiiniiiiiMiiiuji lumiiiiiiniu