ng low. He literally
took no thought of the morrow, but without staff and little even
in the way of scrip unselfishly gave the best years of a life
extending two decades beyond the time allotted, to the service
of his Master.

Until the Judgment leaves are unfolded the good which this man and
many of his co-laborers did in the new country will never be known.
A journey of days on horseback to fill an appointment, to perform a
marriage ceremony, preach a funeral sermon, or speak words of hope
and comfort to the sick or the bereaved, was part of the sum of
a life of service that knew little of rest.

There would probably be few pulpits open to Peter Cartwright in
these more cultivated times. Old things have passed away; the
pioneer in his rough garb, with axe upon his shoulder, and rifle
in hand, is now but a tradition, while the border line of civilization
has receded westward to the ocean.

None the less, the typical minister of to-day would have had
very scant welcome in the rude pulpits of the days of which we
write. His elegant attire, conventional manners, written sermons,
and new theology, would have been sadly out of place in the
camp-meeting times, for be it remembered that Cartwright called
things by their right names. He gave forth no uncertain sound.
His theology was that of the Fathers. We hear little in these
modern days of "The fire that quencheth not" and of "total depravity"
and of "the bottomless pit." Such expressions are unfitted for ears
polite. Higher criticism, new thought, and all kindred ideas
and suggestions,

"Sapping a solemn creed with solemn sneer,"

were believed by Cartwright and his contemporaries to be mere
contrivances of Satan for the ensnaring of immortal souls. His
abhorrence of all these "wiles of the devil," and his scorn for
their advocates, knew no bounds.

His preaching was of the John Wesley, George Whitefield, and Jonathan
Edwards type. Mingled with his denunciations of sin, his
earnest exhortations to repentance, his graphic description of the
New Jerusalem, with its "streets of gold, walls of jasper, and
gates of pearl," and of the unending bliss of the redeemed, were
expressions now relegated to the limbo of the past. Little
time, however, was wasted by the Rev. Peter in picking out soft
words for fear of giving offence. To his impassioned soul "the
final doom of the impenitent," the "torment of the damned," and
"hell fire" itself, were veritable reali