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 THE LIBRARIES 
 
 Bequest of 
 
 Frederic Bancroft 
 
 1860-1945 
 
LIFE 
 
 OF 
 
 J. B. JETEK, D. D. 
 
 BY 
 
 WM. E. HATCHER. 
 
 » 
 
 BALTIMOKE: 
 H. M. WHARTON AND COMPANY. 
 
 1887. 
 
\ 
 
 -$^/33 
 
 Copyrighted 1887, H. M. Whakton & Co. 
 
 *•''•: Xti/i U. Jv-,. : 
 
I DEDICATE TO TOD THIS MEMORIAL VOLUME OF YOUR 
 HONORED HUSBAND, 
 
 39r. 3. 55. Seter. 
 
 TO THIS ACT I AM MOVED, NOT ONLY BY MY RESPECT FOR 
 YOUR CHRISTIAN VIRTUES AND EMINENT USEFULNESS, BUT 
 BY A GRATEFUL REMEMBRANCE OF THAT DEVOTED AND 
 INSPIRING LOVE WITH WHICH YOU BRIGHTENED HIS OLD 
 AGE. 
 
 THE SATISFACTION WHICH I HAVE FOUND IN THIS 
 MODEST EFFORT TO HONOR A VENERATED KINSMAN IS 
 ENHANCED BY THE OPPORTUNITY NOW AFFORDED ME, OF 
 ATTESTING PUBLICLY MY SINCERE REGARD FOR YOU. 
 
 Win. E. Hatcher. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 TN presenting this volume to the public, I beg respectfully to 
 J- accompany it with several brief explanations. 
 
 Soon after Dr. Jeter's death, it was announced that I 
 had undertaken to prepare his biography. It happened that I 
 encountered difficulties in the prosecution of the work, which 
 compelled its temporary suspension. Happily, these obstacles, at 
 length, were removed, and, during last autumn, I was enabled to 
 resume my cherished task. The material formerly collected for 
 the work, has been of great value, but it is due to myself to say, 
 that all the original matter in this volume has been written 
 during the last five months, and that too, in the midst of the 
 cares and interruptions of a large pastorate. 
 
 The reader will be pleased to learn in advance, that many of 
 Dr. Jeter's " Recollections of a Long Life," which appeared in 
 the Religious Herald several years before his death, are repro- 
 duced in this work. Lack of space has rendered it necessary for 
 me to omit some of these racy and delightful papers, but I have 
 been careful to incorporate all that possessed any special histori- 
 cal interest. 
 
 In preparing this biography, I have received valuable aid from 
 various sources. As these kindnesses have been acknowledged 
 in the course of the story, I need not mention here the names of 
 my helpers. As I had to draw freely on my own resources for 
 material, I trust that my personal candor will not be mistaken 
 for egotism. 
 
 And now in the fear of God, and with a desire to help the 
 
 living, as "well as to honor the dead, I send forth this book to 
 
 its fate. 
 
 Wm. E. Hatcher. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 His Kindred and His Home 1 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 Birth and Early Surroundings 18 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 The School Boy and His Schools 41 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 Conversion 65 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 Putting on the Armor 84 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 The Young Missionary 102 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 Life in Sussex and Campbell 120 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 The Northern Neck 135 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Settlement in Richmond 175 
 
 v 
 
v i CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 St. Loxtis Pastorate 223 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 Seventeen Years at Grace Street Church 242 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 In the Pulpit 281 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 Pastoral Character 318 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 Achievements in Authorship 348 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 In the Editorial Chair 381 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 Personal Traits 412 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 Christ in Him 442 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 The Happy End 477 
 
LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER D.D. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 HIS KINDRED AND HIS HOME. 
 
 BIOGRAPHIES are often encumbered with elabo- 
 rate genealogies. In some quarters the opinion 
 seems to prevail that one's title to public respect 
 is to be measured by the length of his ancestral line. 
 I harbor no grudge against noble birth, and would 
 not disparage the benefits which belong to those who 
 spring from distinguished families. At the same 
 time, I am so intensely American in my sentiments 
 and convictions that I heartily indorse the popular 
 verdict, that men are to be estimated not by the ac- 
 cidents of fortune, but by what they are and what 
 they do. Real honor is personal and not hereditary. 
 In attempting to present to the public a biograph- 
 ical sketch of Jeremiah Bell Jeter, I am saved from 
 the necessity of loading the story with a tedious and 
 bewildering account of his ancestry. A brief chap- 
 ter will contain all that needs to be told concerning 
 his parentage and kindred. In the dense forest of 
 family trees, his is modest and undistinguished. He 
 had no great ancestry. He inherited neither wealth 
 nor honor from his fathers. It would not add one 
 cubit to his stature for me to multiply paragraphs in 
 
 1 
 
2 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 eulogy of the stock from which he sprang. His fore- 
 fathers sleep in unmarked graves. 
 
 If he deserves to be remembered, it is not so much 
 on account of the good which he received, as for 
 the sake of the blessings which, by his character 
 and deeds, he bestowed upon his fellow-men. 
 
 And yet, let me not be misunderstood. It would 
 not only be unpardonable, but unnatural in me to 
 speak contemptuously of Dr. Jeter's kindred. If 
 they were not famous, they were at least free from 
 any stain of reproach. He sometimes indulged the 
 modest boast that while his family had never risen 
 to distinction, they had never sunken to disgrace. 
 But while he had no occasion to be ashamed of his 
 family stock, it is due to him to say that he rose 
 far above his level and became the conspicuous orna- 
 ment of his house. The story of his life unveils one 
 who, born of honest and unambitious parentage, and 
 in a large measure denied the advantages of early 
 culture, wrought out for himself a high destiny. En- 
 tering the track of his earthly journey with very 
 little in his environments to inspire him, he had with- 
 in him, even from his childhood, a consciousness of 
 strength, linked with a modest purpose in all things 
 " to do his very best." That was his motto, adopted 
 in his youth, and it became the guiding star of his 
 career. For nearly four-score years he walked the 
 earth, inspired at every step by that lofty sentiment. 
 When he adopted it he was an ignorant and un- 
 noticed youth ; but when he came to the end a 
 crown of honor was upon his brow. 
 
 The Jeter family hold a large and respectable place 
 
HIS KINDRED AND HIS HOME. 3 
 
 in the county of Bedford, as well as in other portions 
 of Virginia. They have always seemed to be wedded 
 to rural life, and fond of agricultural pursuits. While 
 never distinguished for wealth or genius, they have 
 usually stood above the average of their neighbors 
 in intelligence and self-respect. A few of them have 
 taken rank in professional life, though not in those 
 professions which depend for success upon public 
 speaking. Now and then some of them have sought 
 their fortunes on the treacherous sea of politics, but 
 owing either to the madness of the waves, or to the 
 piratical character of rival crafts, they have never 
 ventured very far from shore. 
 
 In an autobiographical sketch which Dr. Jeter 
 commenced, but never finished, he has this to say of 
 the Jeters, — 
 
 Of my family-name I have not been able to learn the history. 
 It is obviously a French name. The first Jeter, according to the 
 family tradition, settled near Port Royal, in Caroline County, in 
 the early colonial days. From all that I can learn I deem it 
 probable that the family was of Huguenot origin, was settled a 
 while in England and thence emigrated to this country. All the 
 Jeters, so far as I can learn, sprang from a common stock. They 
 have been remarkable for their mediocre character. They have 
 been neither rich nor poor, learned nor illiterate, eminent nor in- 
 famous ; but with scarcely an exception a plain, substantial, in- 
 dependent and respectable people. 
 
 There is something characteristic in the foregoing 
 description which Dr. Jeter furnishes of his family. 
 He mentions that the Jeters are French in their ori- 
 gin, and it is an interesting fact that after the 
 changes of many generations and the interminglings 
 of other blood they still possess, in a marked degree, 
 
4 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 the buoyancy and volatility of their forefathers. Even 
 to the present day they are remarkable for their im- 
 pulsiveness and their easy and hopeful views of the 
 future. The sun of hope rarely sinks below the 
 Jeter horizon. They never cease to dream of the 
 good day that is to come, and often they dream of 
 good days which never come. This elastic and irre- 
 pressible spirit, chastened by experience and re- 
 strained by intelligence, was a capital feature in the 
 character of Dr. Jeter. The joy of spring time was 
 in his temperament and sparkled in his life even down 
 to old age. 
 
 His father's name was Pleasant Jeter. "He was," 
 says Dr. Jeter, "one of ten children, all of whom 
 lived till the youngest was thirty years old ; and all 
 but one lived until the youngest had passed the age 
 of sixty years." 
 
 Mr. Pleasant Jeter was a man of eccentric charac- 
 ter. Good native gifts he unquestionably possessed, 
 but he was uncultivated, vacillating and improvident, 
 He never gave his thoughts to religion, and was so 
 thriftless in his habits that he squandered the little 
 inheritance which he received and made but a scanty 
 provision for his family. He drifted from place to 
 place, and for a good part of his life had no perma- 
 nent abode. He was often in desperate straits, and 
 now and then, in the vain hope of rebuilding his 
 fortunes, he crossed the mountains, and dwelt in the 
 counties of Roanoke and Pulaski, until his necessi- 
 ties drove him back to Bedford. 
 
 That I have not stated the case too strongly, I 
 present here Dr. Jeter's severely candid opinion of 
 
HIS KINDEED AND HIS HOME. 5 
 
 his father, which he wrote when he was himself al- 
 most three-score years and ten. He said : " My 
 father was remarkable for nothing except bad man- 
 agement in his secular affairs and air-castle building." 
 
 He relieves in part the sharpness of his criticism 
 by admitting that he inherited from his father, in 
 large measure, his fondness for building air-castles- 
 He says that in his earlier years he was incessantly 
 employed in that cheap style of architecture, and 
 erected some towering structures of that sort. It 
 seems almost inconsistent with the seriousness of his 
 character, that even in his old age he found comfort 
 in the reflection that his indulgence in idle dream- 
 ing " lightened the toils of many a wearisome hour, 
 and gilded with hope a prospect that else had been 
 gloomy." Perhaps there was enough of the French- 
 man in him, not only to love dreaming, but to feel 
 that there was a substantial value in well-built castles, 
 even though built in the air. That dreamy disposi- 
 tion was the never-failing mark of his father's life. 
 His estate consisted in futile and unsubstantial 
 dreams. He was always concocting plans which 
 promised vast revenues, but whose outcome was only 
 disappointment. Schemes the most visionary infat- 
 uated him, and set him wild with hope, and then 
 speedily collapsed. 
 
 It was during Dr. Jeter's boyhood that his father's 
 life was most unsettled and migratory. Some of his 
 most affecting and humorous recollections were con- 
 nected with the wandering life which he had in his 
 childhood. 
 
 When he was about nine years of age his father 
 
6 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 returned with his family to Bedford and settled in 
 an isolated community, located a few miles north of 
 Liberty. That section was known in my early days 
 as " Powell's Hollow." It is about as grim and un- 
 attractive a spot as can be found in almost any part 
 of Virginia. It is broken, sterile and inaccessible, 
 abounding in rugged and rocky hills, deep gullies, 
 and mingled briars, broom-sedge and pine, with noth- 
 ing to relieve the dismal picture, except the rippling 
 laughter and the gleaming beauty of the North Fork 
 of Otter Creek ; and even that dashes along with a 
 speed which seems to indicate an impatience to 
 hasten onward to more attractive scenes. I remem- 
 ber well that in my boyhood days that out-of-the- 
 way place was accounted the most cheerless and des- 
 olate part of North Bedford. Sometimes, when a 
 man fell out with his neighbor, and wished to set out 
 his resentment in the most cutting phrase, he ex- 
 pressed the wish to have the offender exiled, not to 
 Calcutta, but to " Powell's Hollow." Dr. Jeter said 
 in his later life that he had travelled extensively, 
 and had seen many rough and ugly localities, but 
 that his eye had never rested on any place more for- 
 bidding or gloomy than the neighborhood in which 
 he spent the days of his boyhood. It seems strange, 
 indeed, that a youth brought up in the midst of such 
 surroundings should have possessed such a quench- 
 less yearning for knowledge and such lofty moral and 
 religious aspirations. 
 
 It is pleasant to add that his associations were 
 not restricted to the limits of the narrow section in 
 which he had his home. Other and brighter com- 
 
HIS KINDRED AND HIS HOME. 7 
 
 munities were in his reach, and, as he grew toward 
 manhood, he began to emerge from his hiding-place 
 and to find better companionships among his kin- 
 dred and neighbors. 
 
 His mother's name was Jane Eke Hatcher. She 
 was the daughter of Rev. Jeremiah Hatcher. This 
 Mr. Hatcher, if we can trust a tradition, was the 
 descendant of an English officer, who, far back in col- 
 onial times, retired from the navy, came to America, 
 settled near City Point, in Chesterfield County, Va., 
 and reared a family. Jeremiah Hatcher was a native 
 of Powhatan County, and was baptized by Elder 
 Eleazar Clay, and in early life entered the Baptist 
 ministry. Not much is known of his ministry in 
 Lower Virginia; but it is a matter of history that 
 he was, for a season, the pastor of the well-known, 
 but cruelly named old Tomahawk Church in Ches- 
 terfield County. This church still survives, but 
 maintains a very feeble and unprogressive exist- 
 ence. 
 
 In the prime of his manhood Mr. Hatcher moved 
 to Bedford. It was then comparatively a wilder- 
 ness, but with a fast-incoming population. He 
 secured the possession of an extensive area of 
 mountain land, and reared many sons and daugh- 
 ters. He was a man well suited for the times in 
 which he lived. While unhelped by the discipline 
 of the schools, he was yet a man of marked strength 
 and influence. He possessed a rugged mind, a fiery 
 zeal and an intrepid spirit. If he did not have cul- 
 ture, he at least had that heroic courage which 
 made him a man of valor in his Master's service. 
 
8 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 He was an earnest believer in the gospel, and had 
 an ardent love for the souls of men. His ministry 
 brought him neither riches nor popular applause ; 
 but it won for him an honor which grows brighter 
 as the days go by. At his own charges and for 
 many years, he traversed the hills of Bedford and 
 the adjacent counties, and preached the good news 
 to the people. He did a good work. He was a 
 pioneer, and bore a conspicuous part in laying the 
 foundation for that sturdy moral and Christian sen- 
 timent which so strikingly marks the inhabitants of 
 that part of Virginia. He did much also to implant 
 that deep-rooted Baptist conviction which so largely 
 prevails even to the present day in Bedford. 
 
 I remember well the ruins of a long, rude log- 
 house, which stood about a mile distant from my 
 childhood home, and which, though it had long been 
 abandoned as a place of worship, was still known as 
 "Hatcher's Meeting-House," — so called because built 
 on the land and by the efforts of this man of God, 
 and because, too, it was the chief scene of his minis- 
 terial labors. For many years it was the centre of 
 religious influence in Northern Bedford, and contin- 
 ued to be so for years after the old veteran had 
 ended his labors and gone to his reward. Out 
 of that church went forth several other Baptist 
 churches, which still exist and steadfastly maintain 
 the faith of their fathers. Mr. Hatcher died about 
 the opening of the present century, and possibly not 
 until he was permitted to look upon the face of the 
 grandson that was to inherit his name and take up 
 his fallen mantle. 
 
HIS KINDRED AND HIS HOME. 9 
 
 The mother of Dr. Jeter is said to have been a 
 woman of shrinking modesty and deep religious con- 
 victions. So far as I can ascertain, she never be- 
 came a church member; but Dr. Jeter delighted to 
 testify that she exerted over him a quiet and potent 
 religious influence. He said that while she rarely 
 spoke to him on Christian themes, he knew well 
 where she stood. Now and then she ventured to 
 utter a plea for Christ, and it fell upon him with 
 irresistible force. Her feeble health, her household 
 cares and her poverty, combined to debar her from 
 the privileges of the Lord's house. But her father's 
 faith lived in her soul, transformed her life and con- 
 soled her in the midst of her sorrows. Her lot was 
 a harsh one for a spirit so timid, sensitive and griev- 
 ously tried. Her shifting life and the dissipated and 
 reckless habits of her husband overburdened her; 
 and worn down by many adversities, she sank a 
 victim to consumption in the later prime of her life. 
 
 Her life was happily spared until her children 
 had attained to maturity, and what was yet better, 
 until they had become imbued with her meek and 
 patient spirit. In number her children were seven, 
 — three sons and four daughters. Of the sons, Jere- 
 miah Bell was the oldest; Ira, the second, was fee- 
 ble-minded, and died while yet in his youth; and 
 Andrew, the youngest son, was considered by many 
 as the most gifted of his family. By the generous 
 assistance of his oldest brother, Andrew was well 
 educated, entered the medical profession and won 
 distinction as a practitioner and teacher. He died 
 many years ago, before he had reached the meridian 
 
10 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 of life. At the time of his death he held a profes- 
 sorship in the Medical University of Missouri. 
 
 The names of the daughters were Margaret (al- 
 ways called Peggy), Edith, Betsy and Sarah. These 
 all married worthy, substantial men, and resided for 
 many years in the State of Missouri. All of them 
 became Baptists in their youth, and emulated the 
 piety and zeal of their brother. Two of them pre- 
 ceded him to the eternal world; the other two still 
 survive. 
 
 During the life-time of his mother it was Dr. 
 Jeter's custom to pay her an annual visit, and from 
 that act of filial devotion no trivial obstacle could 
 divert him. 
 
 They were often separated by great distances, and 
 the modes of travel in those days were rude, tire- 
 some and inconvenient; but he could not be deterred. 
 Ah, those were sunny days in the life of that mother! 
 Who can describe the pride and joy with which she 
 hailed his coming? What charming breaks did 
 these yearly visits make in her monotonous life ! 
 With what swelling rapture did she gaze upon her 
 son, now rounded into full manhood, decked in 
 thickening honors and with the seal of God's bless- 
 ing upon him ! What a balm she found for her 
 wounded spirit in his sympathy and devotion! 
 
 Those were the days of his poverty. lie started 
 with nothing, and his income was small. But he 
 was never too poor to help his mother. His care 
 for her in her misfortunes was exceedingly tender. 
 Of the substance which the Lord gave him, he re- 
 served for her a goodly part. I well remember the 
 
HIS KINDRED AND HIS HOME. H 
 
 " presents," as they were proudly called, which he 
 so often brought or sent to the family, while they 
 yet remained in Bedford. The fountain of his kind- 
 ness never ran dry ; but it grew in volume and rich- 
 ness as he grew in prosperity. I think that the 
 later chapters of this volume will reveal a character 
 with which even the strange reader must fall in 
 love, and yet there is nothing to tell more worthy 
 of admiration than Dr. Jeter's affectionate concern 
 for his mother's comfort. 
 
 It seems no great thing to say that he robbed him- 
 self to supply the needs of his mother. That is 
 what any son ought to be always ready to do, but I 
 am not sure that all young ministers are quite so 
 thoughtful about their mothers as was Dr. Jeter. 
 Many of them come from humble homes, and leave 
 overtaxed and impoverished parents behind them. 
 From the schools they often step into lucrative pas- 
 torates ; but their eagerness to enlarge their libraries, 
 their impatience to marry, and the temptation to ex- 
 pensive styles of living, sometimes make them for- 
 get the sweet mother at the old home, who tugged 
 and struggled so patiently to give them a start in 
 life. 
 
 There are many worthy ways in which a preacher 
 can spend a part of his income for the good of others, 
 but I know none which is more pleasing to God than 
 that of helping the old folks at home. A new dress 
 for mother, the mending of the old carriage, the re- 
 painting of the homestead, a few shining dollars in 
 the mother's purse to spend as she pleases, or shoes 
 and hats and suits and dresses for the younger 
 
12 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 brothers and sisters — ah, these are tokens of ministe- 
 rial piety, very beautiful, but far too rare. 
 
 I have said that Dr. Jeter was named Jeremiah 
 for his paternal grandfather. He tells us that he 
 was called Bell after his paternal grandmother, whose 
 maiden-name was Bell. He represents her as a 
 woman of strong character, and says that he once 
 hearfl his father say, after her death, that he had 
 never in all of his life " seen her angry," though she 
 did not die until she was in the eighty-seventh year 
 of her age. 
 
 While speaking of his grandmother it seems worth 
 while that I should give the reader the following 
 quaint and interesting extract from his autobiograph- 
 ical papers with reference to his great-grandmother 
 on his father's side. 
 
 " My father's grandmother, named Miller from her third mar- 
 riage, died after I commenced my ministry, in the ninety-sixth 
 year of her age. I heard her say that she kept a register of her 
 descendants until they numbered one hundred and fifty, and that 
 they then multiplied beyond her knowledge, but that she supposed 
 they amounted to three hundred. Shortly after that time I know 
 that I had one hundred and twenty-five living first cousins, eighty 
 of whom were her descendants." 
 
 The name by which Dr. Jeter was always known 
 in Bedford was Jerry Bell. That was the name by 
 which he was called in his childhood, and in his old 
 community he continued to be called by it to the end 
 of his life. This is somewhat remarkable, for I can 
 recall no other man who was invariably called by 
 both of his names. This may have arisen from the 
 fact that both families were represented in his name, 
 
HIS KINDRED AND HIS HOME. 13 
 
 and each was anxious that its own side should not 
 be forgotten. At any rate, it was the custom alike 
 of his kindred and his early acquaintances to use 
 that double title in addressing him or in speaking of 
 him, and the name was often found on the lips both 
 of white and colored, when they chanced to mention 
 him. 
 
 I need not say that the Bedford people were very 
 proud of Dr. Jeter. His kindred recognized him as 
 a prince in genius, wisdom and piety, and always 
 hailed his visits with delight. His kinspeople were 
 for the most part thrifty and comfortable, though un- 
 pretentious in their styles of living, and they coveted 
 no higher earthly honor than to have him cross their 
 thresholds and share the hospitality of their boards. 
 It was a high day in their history when he came, 
 and they gave him the best that they had. It was 
 particularly gratifying to the people at large when 
 he preached in the neighborhood churches. The 
 simple report that "Jerry Bell" would preach at 
 Mount Hermon or Suck Spring on a given day was 
 sufficient to empty the mountain gorges, and flood 
 the church-yards with the multitudes. 
 
 It is a fact not always recognized that country 
 people are more intellectual than are the busy and 
 rushing dwellers in the cities. While they may not 
 be so easy in their manners, or glib in their speech, 
 they are far more thoughtful. They are much given 
 to speculation and controversy. They delight to 
 gather in groups, in the store, or at the post-office, or 
 in the grove, or around the wood-fire in the winter 
 evenings, and discuss problems in nature, politics or 
 
14 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D, 
 
 religion. This seems to be peculiarly true of the 
 Bedford people. They are a race of thinkers. They 
 love to ask questions and seem never so happy as 
 when wrestling with each other in hot debate. It 
 was an unconscious tribute which they often bore to 
 the wisdom of Dr. Jeter, that when unable to settle 
 some knotty question, they would determine to appeal 
 to his judgment. They seemed to think that he 
 knew almost everything, and when he uttered his 
 verdict, the discussion was closed. 
 
 His ipse dixit with many was the end of contro- 
 versy. 
 
 I may be pardoned for addinghere thatno classof the 
 Bedford people more sincerely admired Dr. Jeter than 
 the negroes. They were then, of course, in slavery, 
 but they attended public worship in the same houses 
 with their masters, and many of them were devout 
 and consistent members of the same churches. Their 
 eagerness to hear " Mars Jerry Bell " whenever he 
 preached in Bedford was intense. They would walk 
 for miles and miles to hear him. If his sermons 
 chanced to come on a week-day instead of the Sab- 
 bath, they would manage to persuade their masters 
 to proclaim a holiday that they might go. If, in the 
 excitement of the occasion, they found themselves 
 crowded out of their accustomed place in the house, 
 they would swarm about the doors and windows, and, 
 with open ear and eye and mouth, catch every word 
 that fell from his lips. It was amusing and some- 
 times very affecting to hear the comments which they 
 would make upon him after the sermon was over. 
 
 " Lord bless you, master," the old colored brother 
 
' HIS KINDRED AND HIS HOME. 15 
 
 would say ; " Wa'n't it good ? Dat's what I call 
 preachin. Mars Jerry Bell is mighty in de word, 
 and knows how to put it." 
 
 The doctor was fond of relating a ludicrous and 
 laughable incident which occurred during one of his 
 visits to Bedford. While passing along one of the 
 public roads on horseback one morning, he went by 
 a field in which, a little distance away, a colored 
 man was ploughing. As he went galloping by, the 
 negro checked his horses, scanned him with a search- 
 ing eye, and then, in a tremor of excitement, shrieked 
 at the top of his voice, " I say dar." Dr. Jeter 
 reined in his steed, drew up to the fence and awaited 
 further developments. "I say dar," continued the 
 simple-hearted ploughman, "ain't you Mars Berry 
 Jell ?" Amazed at the odd tangle in which his sable 
 brother had gotten his name, he asked, "Am I 
 what ?" "Ain't you Mars Berry Jell ?" He made a 
 polite bow and replied, " Yes, this is Berry Jell," and 
 then speedily swept on his way, but not until he had 
 seen two rows of snowy teeth grinning out the poor 
 fellow's pride and satisfaction in having actually 
 spoken to " Mars Berry Jell." 
 
 This story suggests another. The colored people 
 of Bedford often expressed their admiration for Dr. 
 Jeter by naming their children for him. 
 
 During a certain summer he was spending a part 
 of his vacation at the home of my father. One after- 
 noon he set out on foot to pay a visit to a cousin. 
 His walk took him through a forest, and quite un- 
 expectedly he stumbled upon a colored urchin who 
 was stealing a nap on the wayside. The approach 
 
16 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 of Dr. Jeter aroused him, and he sprang to his feet 
 in surprise and fright. Dr. Jeter, in a spirit of mis- 
 chief, with well-feigned severity, said, "And who are 
 you ?" Never dreaming that he was in the presence 
 of his illustrious namesake, the scared youngster re- 
 plied, " I am Jerry Bell." The doctor said he had 
 been laboring for some time under the impression 
 that he was Jerry Bell, but that after that interview 
 he had begun to think that it would not be very easy 
 to determine, in Bedford at least, the exact identity 
 of Jerry Bell. The stock seemed to be embarrass- 
 ingly numerous. 
 
 Dr. Jeter was proud of the name of Jeter. He 
 said that he had rarely ever known a man by that 
 name that was not an honest man. That may have 
 been claiming too much for his family, but the Bed- 
 ford Jeters have always been distinguished for their 
 probity and their high sense of honor. He said on 
 one occasion that it was a matter of humiliation to 
 him, that many persons who had been called after 
 him brought reproach upon the name. In some 
 cases that was true, but there have been many 
 Jeters (I mean those named for him) who wore the 
 name worthily. 
 
 Some time before his death I met him one 
 morning, and upon inquiring after his health, he said 
 that he was not well and had been suffering with a 
 slight attack of insomnia. He told me that, as he 
 was unable to sleep the night before, he spent a part 
 of his time in calculating the number of ways in 
 which the name of Jeter could be spelled. He said he 
 counted three hundred different combinations of let- 
 
HIS KINDRED AND HIS HOME. 17 
 
 ters which exactly spelt the name and that he sup- 
 posed there were others. This may strike the reader 
 as incredible, but let him try it. 
 
 I have already spoken of the mercurial and buoy- 
 ant temperament of the Jeters. The Hatchers are 
 not their equals in elasticity and ardor of nature — 
 but they are more practical, sober and thoughtful. 
 Dr. Jeter combined in himself the best characteristics 
 of both families. 
 2 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 HIS BIRTH AND EARLY SURROUNDINGS. 
 
 JEREMIAH BELL JETER was born in Bedford 
 County, Va., on the 18th of July, 1802. Ac- 
 cording to his own statement, his birth-place 
 was the old homestead of his maternal grandfather. 
 The house in which he was born would cut a sorry 
 figure if brought into comparison with the stately 
 and imposing edifices which are now quite numerous 
 in Northern Bedford. At the time of its erection, 
 however, it was probably the most commodious pri- 
 vate residence in the entire community. It was a 
 framed building, one story and a half in height, with 
 shingled roof and stone chimneys. It had four main 
 rooms, with small windows, and doors, high from the 
 ground and approached by block steps. It never 
 knew the refining touch of paint, and as a consequence 
 presented to the eye of the stranger a weather-beaten 
 and neglected appearance. But it was not without 
 its attractive features. It was delightfully situated 
 on an elevated plain, and, with its blue-grass turf, 
 its rows of locusts, its mammoth old acorn tree, its 
 adjacent garden of roses and lilacs and its great or- 
 chard, it made an* enchanting picture as it nestled 
 near the base of the Piney Mountain. It commanded 
 above the line of the nearer mountains a lovely view 
 18 
 
HIS BIRTH AND EARLY SURROUNDINGS. 19 
 
 of the Peaks of Otter on the one side and of the No- 
 Business Mountain on the other. It was never 
 honored with any name of its own, but it was known 
 far and near as the homestead of the old Baptist 
 preacher, Jeremiah Hatcher. For many, many years 
 he dwelt there, and the place became the favorite 
 resort of his children and grand-children, not only 
 during his life-time, but long after he had passed 
 away. Almost every Saturday night some members 
 of the scattered household knocked at the door, and 
 the idle Sundays, sadly common then, often drew to- 
 gether groups of kindred, attracted by their love of 
 the dear old spot, who gave their hours to happy 
 fellowship. It was not the most religious method of 
 spending the Lord's day, but such was the custom of 
 the times, and social visiting on the Sabbath was not 
 then accounted a sinful thing. If there chanced to 
 be preaching in the neighborhood, you might be sure 
 that the Sunday dinner in that house would be pre- 
 pared with bountiful care, for the dear old mother 
 knew that the loved company would inevitably come. 
 
 That dinner was the highest triumph of the simple- 
 hearted hospitality which reigned in those days. 
 There was no costly plate, no rare dishes, no tiresome 
 courses and no pompous ceremony. It was only a 
 country dinner, composed of the simple products of 
 farm and garden, but it was, at least, abundant, cor- 
 dially dispensed and richly enjoyed. 
 
 Inasmuch as it happens that in describing the 
 birth-place of Dr. Jeter I am at the same time de- 
 scribing my own childhood home, I must be pardoned 
 for the warmth and tenderness of my words. One 
 
20 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 is fairly entitled to charity if, in speaking of his early 
 home, he drifts into a candor which seems unduly 
 personal. At the death of Jeremiah Hatcher, my 
 father inherited what was in those days called the 
 " home place," and there, of course, my boyhood life 
 was spent. Oh, with what deep passion did I love 
 that quiet old mountain home ! To my boyish fancy 
 it was the centre of the world. It seemed always to 
 have been what it was, and for a while I never 
 dreamed that it could change. In all the heart- 
 breaks and woes of subsequent life I have known 
 no sorrow to be compared with that sickness of heart 
 which came with my first absences from my father's 
 house. Even now, under the glow of an affectionate 
 memory, the faces and scenes of those early days 
 take on a beauty so mellow and sad that I cannot 
 recall them except with moistening eye-lids. Be- 
 neath the cherry-tree at the corner of the garden 
 slept the dust of my Presbyterian mother, who died 
 on my fourth birth-day, and who, with her dying 
 breath, prayed that her two sons might become min- 
 isters of the gospel. There, in his lonely old age, 
 dwelt my father, who made his last-born his compan- 
 ion by day and always locked him fondly to his 
 breast through every live-long night. One could not 
 be poor who was enriched with the treasure of such 
 fatherly affection. Royal evenings that household 
 used to have around the winter fires, with ample 
 stores of apples, chestnuts and cider, sometimes sing- 
 ing the old songs, sometimes reading aloud the paper 
 or the book, and always ready for the spicy jest or 
 the crafty practical joke. Alas ! the house is now in 
 
HIS BIRTH AND EARLY SURROUNDINGS. 21 
 
 the hands of strangers and its former inmates are 
 either dead or scattered beyond the hope of reunion. 
 
 The simple old mansion had at its rear a shed-room, 
 which, I know not for how long, was called the " little 
 room." It had no fire-place, no out-door, and only 
 one window, which looked toward the West. Such 
 truant sunbeams as ventured to peer through that 
 little window on the 18th of July, 1802, enjoyed the 
 distinction of being the first to hail the advent of the 
 then nameless little stranger, whose subsequent story 
 is to be unfolded in these pages. It is believed that 
 the birth of young Jeter occurred just a little while 
 before the death of his grandfather. 
 
 Bedford County lies in Middle Virginia and at the 
 eastern base of the Blue Ridge Mountains. While 
 it has been justly admired for its grand scenery, its 
 thrifty population and its productive soil, I must 
 agree with Dr. Jeter that it has not much in its his- 
 tory to give it eminent rank in the family of Virginia 
 Counties. It has at least one magnificent natural 
 characteristic, of which any land might justly boast. 
 I refer, of course, to the celebrated Peaks of Otter. 
 This spur of the Blue Ridge is singularly beautiful 
 in its form, and affords one of the most commanding 
 views which can be enjoyed from any mountain sum- 
 mit. It is easily accessible, and has been for gener- 
 ations, as it yet remains, an attractive resort for 
 travellers from almost every quarter of the globe. 
 Of that majestic old mountain Dr. Jeter sometimes 
 feelingly spoke as his only Bedford friend that had 
 never changed. 
 
 Dr. A. B. Brown once said that God's plant-bed 
 
22 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 for raising Baptist preachers lay along the eastern 
 base of the Blue Ridge. His remark is specially 
 applicable to Bedford. It is not only true that many 
 of her young men have entered the Baptist ministry, 
 but the ministerial ranks of other denominations 
 have also received numerous and valuable recruits 
 from the same quarter. Indeed, Dr. Jeter is frank 
 enough to say that Bedford was never remarkable 
 for anything except for the production of preachers. 
 With that opinion I do not agree. The sons of Bed- 
 ford have achieved eminence in almost every walk of 
 life. But he is right, beyond question, when he 
 claims pre-eminence for that county m the matter of 
 furnishing men for the ministry. 
 
 Why this has been so I cannot explain. Viewed 
 from the human standpoint, the question has often 
 perplexed me. The Bedford people are not distin- 
 guished for piety, and they have never shown any 
 marked anxiety for their young men to go into the 
 ministry. They are not conspicuous friends of min- 
 isterial education and by no means famous for liber- 
 ality in sustaining their young brethren in their 
 struggles to educate themselves for the Lord's service. 
 It is a suggestive fact that when a Bedford boy be- 
 comes a preacher he invariably leaves the county. 
 The churches often lament this state of things, but 
 they have as yet done nothing to change it. 
 
 We will pause here and invite Dr. Jeter to furnish 
 his recollections of the social aspects of Bedford as 
 they were three-quarters of a century ago. After 
 pondering what he has to say, the reader will con- 
 clude that there was not much then in the situation 
 
HIS BIRTH AND EARLY SURROUNDINGS. 23 
 
 to impel young men to enter the ministry. I have 
 sometimes thought that in the fact that so many 
 Bedford youths have become preachers, we have a 
 strong incidental proof that God, by His own sover- 
 eign authority, chooses the men who are to preach 
 His gospel. Here follows Dr. Jeter's portrayal of 
 the social and religious condition of Bedford, as seen 
 by his boyish eyes, — 
 
 THE STATE OF SOCIETY. 
 
 The state of society in my native county, in the days of my 
 boyhood, did not differ materially, I presume, from that of the 
 Piedmont region, or, indeed, of the rural districts generally. The 
 people were plain, and mostly industrious and honest. Their no- 
 torious vices were drunkenness and fighting. In that day the use 
 of strong drink was universal, or limited only by the ability to 
 obtain it. Many of the fanners had large orchards, and made 
 brandy for their own use and for that of their neighbors. As 
 there was no tax on the distillation of spirits, almost every neigh- 
 borhood had its distillery for the manufacture of whiskey. At 
 every place of public resort, store, blacksmith's shop or mill, the 
 liquid was freely offered for sale, and everywhere found a ready 
 market. Most families kept it in their " case," and all, from the 
 hoary-headed father to the little child, partook daily of the morn- 
 ing " dram " and the noontide " grog " or " toddy." Families 
 too poor to indulge in its daily use would drink it freely on holi- 
 day and festive occasions. At musters, courts, " corn-shuckings " 
 and " log-rollings " all drank, at their own expense or that of 
 their friends. It is not surprising, where drinking was universal, 
 that drunkenness was common. It is proper to remark, however, 
 that the excess was occasional rather than habitual. There were 
 many drunkards, but few sots. Men were preserved from habit- 
 ual inebriety, partly from a motive of economy and partly from 
 the incessant demands of their business. On muster-days and 
 court-days the frequency of drunkenness stripped it, in a great 
 measure, of its shame and reproach ; but at other times and on 
 
24 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 other occasions it was more disreputable. It must be said, in 
 honor of the society, that the vice was almost unknown among 
 females. Many of the old women smoked their pipes, and women 
 of all ages drank, constantly or occasionally, toddy ; but not until 
 I had passed my majority, and left the county of my nativity, did 
 my eyes behold that monstrous sight — a drunken woman. 
 
 As already stated, " fighting " was a prevalent vice in the com- 
 munity. When men got at variance, they settled their contro- 
 versies, not in the genteel and refined method of blowing out one 
 another's brains with powder and ball, but by furious quarrel- 
 ing, too often accompanied by revolting profanity, ending in a 
 regular game of fisticuffs. The combat brought no disgrace on 
 the pugilists ; and though they were sometimes " parted " by 
 their friends, they were usually permitted, with what was called 
 " fair play," to continue the fight until the one having the least 
 strength or the least " pluck " was constrained to cry " enough." 
 Every blow struck after that sign of surrender was deemed cow- 
 ardly and mean. Rarely a muster passed without one or more 
 fights. A half-dozen on court-day was deemed a very moderate 
 number ; and sometimes the excitement and the combats would 
 become what was termed a " battle royal." 
 
 It is not strange that a vice so common and so popular should 
 have developed professional fighters. They were known as 
 " bullies." Men of great muscle, courage and powers of endur- 
 ance gained for themselves a renown resembling that of the 
 knights-errant of old, by their pugilistic exploits. They were 
 viewed by the vulgar crowd as men of great distinction. They 
 very naturally became haughty, insolent and defiant, awakening 
 fear among all the feebler combatants, and contempt in all per- 
 sons of refinement and virtue. They strutted on the muster-fields 
 and court-greens, conscious of their physical superiority and then- 
 acknowledged prowess. 
 
 It may assist the reader to form a proper estimate of the times 
 by stating an event, as we heard it in our boyhood, in the life of 
 a celebrated bully. It occurred at a roadside tavern. A dispute 
 arose between him and a Kentucky traveller. The rowdy was 
 tall and muscular, weighing two hundred pounds, and in full 
 training for single combat. The Kentuckian was a small, well- 
 
HIS BIRTH AND EARLY SURROUNDINGS. 25 
 
 formed and agile man, of perfect self-possession. From some dif- 
 ference of views, the Bedford hero was induced to use insulting 
 language to the traveller, who coolly stated that if the language 
 were repeated he would chastise the offender. Of course, such a 
 threat was not to be endured. A fight ensued, in which the bully 
 was thoroughly whipped aud humbled. The best of the story is, 
 that he never again attempted to distinguish himself in the game 
 of fisticuffs. 
 
 It will not seem surprising that a vice so common and so glori- 
 ous among men should have found imitators among boys. Fight- 
 ing might almost have been classed among the amusements of 
 some of the schools. To endure an insult was contrary to the 
 ethical code of the boys. They might be restrained, by natural 
 timidity, parental authority or the dread of an unequal conflict, 
 from resenting an offence or an injury ; but lex talionis was the 
 law of boyhood. Few boys of that day reached manhood with- 
 out fighting ; and many of them had more combats than they had 
 fingers and toes. These impotent conflicts were usually attended 
 with very little harm. A scratched face or a bitten finger was 
 ordinarily the worst result of these juvenile pugilisms. The boys 
 deemed it prudent not to allow any serious injury to be inflicted 
 in these combats, lest they should become implicated in the guilt, 
 and the rod should be substituted for the fist. 
 
 The amusements were such as corresponded with the times and 
 the people. Dancing was not a common, but an occasional and 
 holiday exercise. It was rarely practiced without special prepa- 
 ration ; and then its devotees aimed to indemnify themselves for 
 its infrequency by excessive indulgence. They danced till the 
 exercise became a weariness, and nature imperatively demanded 
 its needed repose. The plays in which the sexes united were 
 blindman's buff, thimble, whiffling pin, and many others whose 
 names I have forgotten, and which, if I could mention, would 
 convey no definite conceptions to the mind of the reader. 
 
 The sports in which men alone took part were mostly athletic. 
 Hunting was a favorite exercise of many, both young and old. 
 Squirrels, hares, partridges, ducks, wild turkeys, opossums, foxes, 
 raccoons, deer and bears were all hunted by sportsmen. The 
 game, on the whole, was not worth the powder ; but it created 
 
26 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 excitement, which was no little valued by the population of a 
 quiet rural district. Hounds, traps and guns, both smooth and 
 rifled, were put in requisition for the sport. 
 
 In hunting and shooting I was undistinguished. The first time 
 I was trusted with a gun, I came upon a squirrel standing in a 
 path a few steps from me, nibbling an ear of corn, which he had 
 feloniously taken from a contiguous field. I was seized with an 
 instant tremor. After hasty consideration, my plan of assault 
 was laid. I ran at the thief to drive him up a tree, and suc- 
 ceeded admirably. He climbed a tall oak, thickly covered with 
 boughs, and I saw him no more. It was fully six months before 
 it occurred to me that I might have shot him on the ground. 
 My subsequent success in sportsmanship fully corresponded with 
 this unpromising commencement. I could never kill anything, 
 either running or on the wing. I could take aim as accurately, 
 or fire as quickly, as any marksman ; but if I fired, I did not 
 take aim ; and if I took aim, I did not fire. In either case, the 
 game was unharmed. If slaughtered animals were permitted to 
 indict their relentless pursuers, few of all the Bedford boys would 
 be freer from blame than I, provided that guilt be graduated, not 
 by the intent, but by the execution. 
 
 The religious privileges of the people were few, and not of the 
 first quality. They were divided in their opinions and prefer- 
 ences between the Presbyterian, Methodist and Baptist denomi- 
 nations. Their houses of worship, with scarcely an exception, were 
 either built of logs or framed, without plastering, ceiling or stoves, 
 fitted merely as shelters from sun and rain. In the winter sea- 
 sons preaching was kept up chiefly in private dwellings. Re- 
 ligious services were conducted monthly, or at greater or shorter 
 intervals ; but in no case weekly. Most persons, provided with 
 conveniences, could, within a radius of six or eight miles, conven- 
 iently attend worship every Lord's day, conducted by one or an- 
 other of the prevalent denominations. Sunday-schools were un- 
 known. They existed in older and more advanced communities, 
 but if the rumor of their existence had reached Bedford, I do not 
 remember it. Meetings for social prayer were rarely held. I 
 have no recollection of attending one until I had reached matur- 
 ity, and that was a notable failure. 
 
HIS BIRTH AND EARLY SURROUNDINGS. 27 
 
 The preaching of the day was evangelical. It might be con- 
 fused in arrangement, meagre in thought, obscure, ungrammatical 
 and coarse in style, and vociferous and awkward in delivery ; but, 
 with few exceptions, it disclosed, with more or less distinctness 
 and force, the atonement of Christ and the necessity of regenera- 
 tion. It was remarkable for its experimental character. Most 
 sermons contained an account of the conversions, conflicts, sorrows 
 and perplexities of a soul in its passage from death to life, some- 
 what after the manner of Christian in the Pilgrim's Progress. 
 There was little variety in the preaching. Many sermons began 
 with the fill of man, touched on the principal doctrines of revela- 
 tion, gave a Christian's experience, conducted him safely to 
 heaven and wound up with the resurrection of the dead, the 
 general judgment, the retributions of eternity and an application 
 of the subject according as "light and liberty" were granted. 
 These discourses were generally an hour and a half, and some- 
 times three hours in length. A few were of moderate length, and 
 delivered in better taste. 
 
 Many of the preachers " spiritualized " their texts — that is, 
 they would take plain, historical passages of Scripture, and, by 
 fanciful resemblances, draw from them lessons of which their 
 authors never dreamed. The Songs of Solomon were an inex- 
 haustible source of texts for the allegorizers. There was scarcely 
 a verse in the book which they did not torture into pious absurd- 
 ity. Some of these mystifiers found the matter for a tedious ser- 
 mon in a single word. A godly, worthy and highly-esteemed 
 preacher took for his text: "Wherefore, gird up the loins of your 
 mind," etc. He based his discourse on the word " loins," which 
 he confounded with the word lines. There were various kinds of 
 lines — lines by which carpenters executed their work, lines for 
 the division of land, lines of stages for travellers, lines for guiding 
 unruly teams — and in all these uses of the word he found a mys- 
 tical import, which he unfolded to the delight and for the edifica- 
 tion of his hearers. Other preachers went still further, and found 
 a spiritual import in every letter of the Bible. A pious minister 
 declared that he believed not only every text, but every letter, 
 and every crook and dot of every letter, had a spiritual meaning. 
 His trouble was, that he could not discern all these mysteries. I 
 
28 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 will give a brief outline of a discourse of one of these spiritualizers. 
 His text was : " Salvation is of the Lord." To him it seemed that 
 there was something mystical in every letter of the word Salva- 
 tion. He proceeded to evolve its mysteries. " S," said he, " sav- 
 ing salvation (not very luminous) ; A, almighty salvation ; L, 
 lasting salvation ; V, vast salvation ; A — this A my brethren, 
 signifies the same as the other A ; T, eternal salvation (he was 
 probably a better divine than an orthographer) ; I, incompre- 
 hensible salvation ; ON — we will take both these letters together 
 — honorable salvation." The preacher had now a broad founda- 
 tion for his sermon, on which he built leisurely and for an hour 
 or two. 
 
 It must be conceded that these are the poorest specimens of 
 the allegorical style of preaching. In merit, however, there was 
 little distinction between the best and the worst, the most ingeni- 
 ous and the most absurd discourses of this style. They were all 
 drawn from an exuberant imagination, and not from the oracles 
 of God. It is proper, too, to state that, amid much that was 
 puerile and disgusting, there was frequently mingled momentous 
 truth, illustrated by apt analogies and enforced with unaffected 
 pathos. It should be remembered, also, that this method of ex- 
 pounding the Scriptures claimed high authority. It originated 
 with, or was, at least, greatly encouraged by Origen, one of the 
 most learned and voluminous of the early Christian Fathers. 
 Dr. Gill, unrivalled among modern commentators for Hebraistic 
 lore, gave no little encouragement to it. It must be noted, too, 
 that the practice was not limited to the illiterate, but prevailed, 
 more or less, with ministers of the highest culture and of all de- 
 nominations. This remark was certainly true within the range of 
 my juvenile observations. 
 
 There was another striking peculiarity in the preaching that I 
 heard in my early years. It was eminently controversial. Every 
 preacher was a polemic. Whether his text was doctrinal or practi- 
 cal, historical or poetical, gracious or denunciatory, he could find in 
 it a hook on which to suspend his distinctive notions, and a club 
 with which to defend them. If he was a Methodist, his hearers 
 would have no doubt that he rejected predestination, believed in 
 Christian perfection (whatever that may be), and the liability of 
 
HIS BIRTH AND EARLY SURROUNDINGS. 29 
 
 believers to fall from grace, and, quite probably, infant baptism 
 and the validity of the ordinance by sprinkling. Presbyterians 
 and Baptists were quite ready to assert and defend the doctrines of 
 election and the certain salvation of all believers ; nor were they 
 slow to attack what they considered Arminian errors. Baptists 
 did not then, certainly very few ministers among them did, give 
 undue prominence to their distinctive views. 
 
 To the candid and fair discussion of doctrinal questions on 
 which Christians differ there can be no objection. It is demanded 
 by the love of truth and fidelity to Christ. Unfortunately, how- 
 ever, the religious controversies of those days were too often con- 
 ducted in a bitter and abusive spirit. The aim of the contestants 
 seemed to be, not to convince their hearers and win them to the 
 truth, but to wound, overwhelm and bring into contempt their 
 opponents. Had their hearers judged of Calvinists from the rep- 
 resentations of Methodists, they must have concluded that the 
 believers in predestination were not only infatuated, but on the 
 high road to the perpetration of all manner of crimes. " It came 
 from hell," it was said, " and would be the means of conducting 
 multitudes thither. If it were true, God would be worse than the 
 devil." These violent assaults were returned by Calvinists in full 
 measure, heaped up and running over. Said a preacher, who, 
 by the sharpness of his sarcasm, had acquired the title of " The 
 Arminian Skinner," — " From fifty to a hundred souls are con- 
 verted at a Methodist camp-meeting. In a little while they all 
 fall from grace. What a disappointment ! The poor souls were 
 disappointed, the Methodists were disappointed, and God was 
 disappointed. The only way to save Methodist converts is to cut 
 off their heads and send them straight to heaven, before they 
 have an opportunity of falling from grace." 
 
 It must not be supposed that all preachers labored in this spirit 
 and manner. The general tendency was to doctrinal and contro- 
 versial preaching, but there were many preachers who avoided in 
 the pulpit all acrimonious and discourteous remarks. They 
 preached the gospel with simplicity and earnestness. Among 
 these may be mentioned Rev. William Harris, the venerable 
 pastor of my youth, of whom I may have occasion to speak more 
 particularly hereafter. 
 
30 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 It is questionable whether ministers of the present day are not in 
 danger of drifting to the opposite extreme from that of the early- 
 preachers of the century. A sickly sentimentalism is leading 
 them, not only to avoid offensive language in the pulpit, but to 
 efface the distinction between truth and error. Bigotry is bad, 
 but not so bad as religious indifference. There is a sharp conflict 
 between truth and error, right and wrong, and God requires that 
 his servants shall espouse and earnestly, but lovingly, maintain 
 the teachings of his word. 
 
 I must notice another peculiarity in the preaching of those 
 times. Much of it was uttered in a monotonous, singing tone. 
 This tone usually indicated the higher and more impassioned 
 parts of the discourse. There was power in it. Among a plain, 
 uncritical people, it had a wonderful mastery over the sympathies. 
 Many of these unsophisticated preachers carried the art of inton- 
 ing their sermons to the highest excellence. There were most 
 touching melody and pathos in their voices. Rev. Andrew 
 Broaddus, of Carolina, one of the most polished speakers I have 
 ever heard, would occasionally, in the highest stains of his en- 
 rapturing eloquence, glide into the " holy tone " with thrilling 
 effect. The tones of the voice have much to do with the influ- 
 ence of all kinds of public speaking. It is supposed by some 
 Hellenists that Demosthenes delivered his splendid orations in 
 tones resembling those adopted by the old preachers. 
 
 There is something peculiarly refreshing in the 
 subjoined description which Dr. Jeter gives of his 
 early experience in the matter of whiskey-drinking. 
 It shows the stuff of which he was made : 
 
 I have already referred to the almost universal custom of drink- 
 ing alcoholic liquors. I drank, as did other boys. When I was 
 a little over eight years old I heard a wagon-boy, somewhat older 
 than I, say: " I have not drunk a drop of spirits for three years." 
 I had no acquaintance with him, but instantly resolved that I 
 would follow his example. I cannot now remember the motive 
 which gave birth to the resolution. I had no conviction that the 
 use of strong drink was either sinful or dangerous ; and suspect 
 
HIS BIRTH AND EARLY SURROUNDINGS. 31 
 
 that I was influenced in my purpose more by a desire to be sin- 
 gular than to be safe. I made no boast, or even mention, of my 
 resolution. The pledge was entirely mental. When spirit was 
 afterwards offered to me, I simply declined drinking it. A course 
 so singular soon attracted attention. My friends were surprised 
 and troubled that I should have adopted a resolution fraught 
 with so much peril. They were quite sure that I would become 
 a drunkard. In confirmation of their opinion, they referred to 
 at least half-a-dozen men who had abstained entirely from using 
 strong drink, had become sots, and some of them died drunkards. 
 I supposed I had made a dreadful mistake, and was much 
 troubled at it ; for I had great horror of becoming a drunkard. 
 I counselled with no one on the subject ; but concluded that my 
 safest course would be to glide back, without attracting notice, 
 into the use of strong drink. It occurred to me, however, that 
 this might be the means of fulfilling the prediction of my friends. 
 I was perplexed. I can never forget the pleasure which I expe- 
 rienced when the truth broke on my mind that if I should never 
 drink intoxicating liquors it would be impossible for me to be- 
 come a drunkard. My good resolution was confirmed. My 
 friends were correct in their facts, but erred in their conclusion. 
 There was a mighty factor in the account which they entirely 
 overlooked. The persons they named abstained from using 
 strong drink for a time, in the vain effort of breaking the habit 
 of intoxication, which they had formed by the long-continued use 
 of strong drink. I had no such habit to break. Their reasoning 
 was sound as it applied to persons in a condition like that of those 
 named ; and the soundness of the reasoning constitutes one of the 
 strongest motives to abstain from the use of intoxicating drinks. 
 It is easy to avoid forming the drunken habit, but almost im- 
 possible to break it. 
 
 I continued steadfast in my resolution until, in the twentieth 
 year of my age, I made a profession of religion ; and then, 
 strange to say, I concluded to abandon it, on the ground that the 
 gospel had set me free. It seemed unreasonable that I should 
 bear a self-imposed yoke. Using strong drink appeared to be 
 numbered among the privileges of the kingdom of heaven. All 
 Christians enjoyed it, from my venerable and very temperate 
 
32 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 pastor down to the humblest church member ; and why should 
 not I ? This delusion did not long continue with me. It is pro- 
 bable that I did not take half-a-dozen drinks, and possibly not a 
 single drink, of intoxicating liquor before I renewed my resolu- 
 tion. Of this transaction, my late friend, Dr. Witt, retained a 
 more distinct recollection than I did, and shall furnish the history 
 of it. He says : 
 
 "Some time during the summer of 1822 an event occurred 
 which I ought not to pass over in silence, as it contributed largely 
 to the safety and the felicity of my life. We (he and myself) 
 were attending a meeting at Hatcher's meeting-house, and had 
 spent the night at a Brother White's, who lived in that neighbor- 
 hood. In the morning, as the custom was, a decanter of spirits, 
 with sugar and water, was set out and we were invited to partake 
 of it. We were in the habit of tasting, occasionally, of the 
 insidious cup ; but I do not now recollect whether on this occasion 
 we drank or not. We were led into a conversation on the sub- 
 ject. We concurred in the opinion that it was not only a useless 
 habit, but that it was fraught with pernicious consequences. We 
 then and there, on a bright and beautiful Sabbath morning, 
 mutually resolved to abstain, during the remainder of our lives, 
 from the use of intoxicating liquor as a beverage, and to use it only 
 as a medicine, if used at all. We pledged ourselves each to the 
 other in a hearty shaking of hands ; and that sacred pledge we 
 have religiously kept for half a century." (Life of Witt, pp. 
 58, 59.) 
 
 It is painful to learn, from the foregoing paper 
 of Dr. Jeter, that drunkenness was so prevalent 
 among the Bedford people a century ago. I venture 
 to follow his statement with two explanatory facts. 
 
 It is quite certain that the dissipation of those 
 times sprang not so much from the saloon as from 
 the distillery. Almost every prosperous farmer who 
 had an orchard of his own had his arrangements for 
 making peach and apple brandy. This was manu- 
 factured more for domestic than commercial pur- 
 
HIS BIRTH AND EARLY SURROUNDINGS. 33 
 
 poses. Many ran their stills for the benefit, or more 
 truly for the injury, of their neighbors as well as of 
 themselves. The poorer people brought in their 
 fruit, and had it converted into brandy on shares. 
 In this way almost every family kept a constant 
 supply, and esteemed it one of the highest rites of 
 hospitality to bring out the decanter for the refresh- 
 ment of the visitors. They drank at home, and not 
 at the public bars. It is true that at the court- 
 houses and on muster-days whiskey was plentiful, 
 and as public sentiment was not against it, good men 
 sometimes fell into drunkenness on public occasions. 
 But this was not common. If I mistake not, the 
 popular belief was that the use of brandy was justi- 
 fiable, but that the drinking of whiskey was a crim- 
 inal act. Brandy was a domestic article, and the 
 people thought that they had the right to use the 
 products of their own toil. If it made them 
 drunk, it was a private matter, and outsiders had 
 no right to interfere. Of the truth of this state- 
 ment, I recall a ludicrous illustration. In one of 
 the Baptist churches of Bedford, about a half- 
 century ago, a well-known member was arraigned 
 for discipline for drunkenness. The suspicious form 
 of the indictment was that the brother had been 
 " drunk from drinking whiskey." His accuser testi- 
 fied that he had seen him staggering along the 
 streets of Lynchburg in a state of helpless intoxi- 
 cation. The accused was present, and heard the 
 grave charge with quiet and unruffled composure; 
 indeed, there was a twinkle of triumph in his eye. 
 When asked if he had aught to say in his defence, 
 
34 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 he arose leisurely and said: "Nothing, except to 
 deny the charge; it is not true." The situation be- 
 came extremely awkward. His accuser was non- 
 plussed, but at length declared again that with his 
 own eyes he " had seen the brother reeling through 
 the streets." But once more the accused man re- 
 newed his denial. He received the benefit of the 
 doubt, and was acquitted. When they left the 
 house, the brother who had brought the charge said 
 to him : " I thought you were a man of truth ; but 
 after your denial to-day, I can never believe that 
 you are an honest man. You know that you were 
 drunk." " Why," said the man, " I do not deny 
 that I was drunk ; but I do deny that I got drunk by 
 drinking whiskey : it was brandy." Evidently he felt 
 that to drink excessively of whiskey was a crime; but 
 that the use of brandy was not to be condemned. 
 
 It is pleasant to add that in twenty-five years 
 after Dr. Jeter left Bedford there had been a 
 marked change in the habits of the people. The 
 still-houses had fallen into decay; social drinking 
 had, in a large measure, ceased, and drunkenness 
 was no longer common. I grew up in the same 
 neighborhood from which he had gone out, and I 
 think that I can safely testify that there were not a 
 half-dozen men in that community that were ad- 
 dicted to excessive drinking. This happy change 
 came in part through temperance societies and from 
 the increased self-respect and piety of the people. 
 The older men still indulged their morning toddies, 
 and Christmas insisted on its bowl of egg-nog; but 
 social drinking had ceased to be respectable. 
 
HIS BIRTH AND EARLY SURROUNDINGS. 35 
 
 In our times drunkenness is disreputable, and yet 
 not a few of our young men defy public sentiment 
 and become drunkards. What a contrast between 
 them and the youthful Jeter, who boldly defied a 
 vicious sentiment in favor of drinking, and chose 
 the path of sobriety, even though he had to walk 
 alone ! 
 
 It will entertain the reader to recur to some sup- 
 erstitious notions which prevailed in Virginia a cen- 
 tury ago. I append here a brief extract from Dr. 
 Jeter's " Recollections." Things have changed for 
 the better since the time of which he writes, but the 
 spirit of superstition still exists among the unedu- 
 cated classes of our population. The ghost-story has 
 not lost its charm or its terror, and perhaps will not 
 to the end of time. 
 
 PREVALENT SUPERSTITIONS. 
 
 The word "superstition" has quite a variety of meanings. I 
 use it to denote the dread of imaginary beings or evils. It has 
 prevailed, more or less, among all peoples, barbarous and civi- 
 lized, and in all ages. It is more common among the ignorant 
 than among the cultivated classes of society; but is by no 
 means limited to them. The grosser superstitions of my neigh- 
 borhood were passing away at the time of my boyhood. I never 
 saw a witch, or a woman reputed to be one, though I heard many 
 thrilling stories of witches that had recently resided in the vicin- 
 ity. My father and mother were entirely free from superstition. 
 They never gave the slightest credence to the witch and ghost 
 stories then current in the community. I adopted the views of 
 my parents; but, in spite of my incredulity, in the dark and 
 alone, I was terribly afraid of seeing something which I might 
 imagine was a ghost. In about a mile of my residence was a 
 place called Gatson's. It was an old field overgrown with bushes 
 and young pines, from which almost every vestige of a dwelling 
 
36 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 had been removed. Here, before my birth, resided old Mrs. Gat- 
 son. Her neighbors believed most unquestionably that she was a 
 witch. I heard my grandfather, who lived near her, tell this 
 story about her : 
 
 One of her neighbors suffered loss by a disease among his cat- 
 tle or hogs ; and Mrs. Gatson was strongly suspected of having 
 bewitched them. It was resolved that the matter should be put 
 to a test. It was believed that if new needles were boiled in a 
 pot, the witch would come to the house, and not be able to enter 
 it, unless she could pick up something in the yard to take with 
 her. Arrangements were made for the trial. The yard was 
 carefully swept, and every movable thing was taken away. New 
 needles were put into a pot of boiling water, and all were on the 
 qui vive for the arrival of Mrs. Gatson. Sure enough, she soon 
 made her appearance, walked through the yard, and, picking up 
 a little child that had been permitted to stray beyond the door, 
 went directly into the house. The trial had been a partial fail- 
 ure , but the measure of success had been sufficient to strengthen 
 the suspicion that she was a witch. She removed from the neigh- 
 borhood ; but left behind her, among the superstitious, the unwa- 
 vering belief that she was a witch. 
 
 There had been, in my early days, a great abatement of the 
 superstitions of the past , but still they lingered among ignorant 
 people, and especially among the negroes. Story-telling was one 
 of the common amusements of the times ; and these stories 
 usually related to witches, hags, giants, prophetic dreams, ghosts 
 and the like. The dread of jack-o'-lanterns, graveyards and 
 ghosts was quite common, and extended much beyond the avowed 
 belief in their reality. Haunted spots were quite common, to 
 which timid passengers usually gave a wide berth in the night. 
 Ghosts were not unfrequently seen gliding about in the twilight, 
 or in the moonshine, clothed in white. Indeed, I came very near 
 seeing a ghost myself. When I was a lad, having heen at work 
 in a distant field, I was returning home by moonlight. At a 
 sudden turn in the road I saw, directly before me, an object, 
 ghost-like in color, but of a dim and undefined shape. I surveyed 
 it with more alarm than pleasure. At first it seemed still, but 
 after I had gazed at it awhile, it seemed to move slowly from side 
 
HIS BIRTH AND EARLY SURROUNDINGS. 37 
 
 to side in the road. My father had a servant, an old man, who 
 was coming not far behind me, who made great boasts of his 
 heroism. He had no fear of ghosts. He was, however, when he 
 came up, startled by the apparition. After carefully eyeing it, 
 and duly considering the danger, and arming himself with a 
 bludgeon, he resolved to approach it. As he advanced with slow 
 and trembling steps, I marched close behind him, and found that 
 the supposed ghost was a wagon, loaded with white plank, that 
 had broken down and been left in the road. Many such ghosts 
 were seen in that day. 
 
 In my early years I resided a short time in the county of 
 Campbell. Near my residence was a haunted spot, which most 
 persons passed with dread in the dark. It was known that a 
 timid man was to go that way on a certain night. A mischievous 
 wight determined to frighten him. He communicated his pur- 
 pose to a young man, who resolved to play the same prank on 
 him. Quite early, this latter trickster was at the haunted place, 
 wrapped in a sheet, and carefully concealed. In due time the 
 other mischievous fellow, in ghostly garb, took his position. Soon 
 the unsuspecting, but faint-hearted passenger made his appear- 
 ance ; and, frightened by what he supposed to be a ghost, took to 
 his heels, with the ghost in pursuit. At the proper moment 
 ghost No. 2 joined in the chase. The scene became intensely 
 exciting. The foremost ghost, alarmed in turn, cried to the 
 object of his pursuit: "Stop, Dick! stop, Dick! I am not 
 Plunket " (the name of the man whose ghost was supposed to 
 haunt the place), " but here he is behind me." It was a great 
 relief when it was discovered that the supposed ghosts were mis- 
 chievous spirits, clothed with flesh and blood. 
 
 In speaking of the asceticism so common in his 
 youth, Dr. Jeter furnishes an insight into the diffi- 
 culties which stood in the way of the conversion of 
 young people. It was then thought that if a young 
 man became a Christian he must extinguish every 
 trace of buoyancy and merriment from his nature. 
 Indeed, it was a physical impossibility for vigorous 
 
38 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETEE, D.D. 
 
 and healthy people to live the life which a false view 
 of the Scriptures led the ministers of those times to 
 prescribe for the followers of Christ. To the pres- 
 ent day the influence of those ascetic notions is felt 
 among us. The young shrink from the gospel as 
 from the enemy of human happiness. It was much 
 worse then. There is something positively heroic in 
 the attempts made by the bright and happy-natured 
 young people of those days to crush out their very 
 temperaments in order to be pious. 
 
 ASCETICISM. 
 
 This term denotes the practice of " undue rigor and self-denial in 
 religious things." It is an evil peculiar to no age and to no form 
 of religion. It has its origin in the desire to substitute for moral 
 duties austerities congenial with the carnal mind ; or to atone for 
 neglected duties by the performance of works of supererogation. 
 It gave birth to monasticism, with its multiplied evils, among 
 Koman Catholics. Its mischiefs, however, are by no means limited 
 to them. There are few Christian sects whose views and lives are 
 not, more or less, influenced by it. 
 
 In my boyhood days ascetic notions were quite prevalent in all 
 the Christian denominations around me. The Methodists were 
 specially strict in their religious discipline. Their female mem- 
 bers were rigidly forbidden to adorn themselves, with jewelry, 
 bows, ribbons or curls. Their simple style of dress was, as I then 
 thought, and as I still think, becoming and beautiful. The evil 
 referred to lay not in the simplicity of their dress, but in its en- 
 forcement as a duty. Men, for drunkenness, dishonesty or other 
 vices, might be tenderly dealt with and pardoned ; but woe to the 
 thoughtless damsel who ventured to deck herself with rings, or 
 curls, or plumes, or to engage in the giddy dance. Nothing could 
 save her from excommunication and disgrace, except the most 
 penitent confession and the most solemn promise to abstain in 
 future from these ungodly practices. 
 
 Before I reached maturity a young Methodist preacher of 
 
HIS BIRTH AND EARLY SURROUNDINGS. 39 
 
 respectable family and of fine promise was stationed in the town 
 of Lynchburg. A great revival took place under his ministry, 
 and many were added to his church. A writer, in a paper of the 
 town, gave a glowing description of the labors and success of the 
 young pastor. Among other things which he preached, it was 
 stated that he told the people: " Except ye wear your hair straight, 
 ye cannot be saved." Whether the remarks of the evangelist were 
 fairly reported, I cannot say. This much, however, I may confi- 
 dently affirm: The oracular remark created no surprise; but was 
 rather received as a proof of the sanctity and fidelity of the 
 young minister. A man so strict in matters of fashion, it was in- 
 ferred, could not be neglectful of "judgment, mercy and the 
 weightier matters of the law." 
 
 Baptists, less rigorous than Methodists in their notions of relig- 
 ious duties, were quite ascetic in their practice and discipline. 
 They were lax enough in regard to morals, but severely intolerant 
 of what were called worldly pleasures. These were from the devil, 
 and led straight to perdition. On becoming a Baptist, one was 
 expected to renounce the pleasures of the world — not only dancing, 
 but all games, sports and amusements — and to be grave, avoiding 
 mirth and frivolity. This rule was not rigidly enforced, but its 
 observance was deemed essential to high Christian character, and 
 peculiarly necessary to ministers of the gospel. 
 
 I have stated the ascetic notions of the times mainly for the 
 purpose of showing their influence on my own life. In that day 
 it was customary for young men to wear their hair curled on 
 their foreheads, an adornment secured, in most cases, by the use 
 of pomatum. In the commencement of my religious course I 
 combed my hair straight, thus bringing myself within the possi- 
 bility of salvation as taught by the Lynchburg divine. My com- 
 pliance with this rule was easy, as my hair was naturally straight. 
 All amusements I abandoned at once, and without difficulty, as I 
 had little opportunity, and less inclination, to indulge in them. 
 There was one duty which I did not find it so easy to practice. 
 Laughing was deemed, if not sinful, at least quite unbecoming 
 for a Christian, and especially a preacher. In this view I con- 
 curred. Living in a world filled with sin and cursed of God, 
 with thousands passing daily to perdition, it appeared to me most 
 
40 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETEB, D.D. 
 
 inappropriate that I should indulge in mirth. This view seemed 
 to be confirmed by the fact that, so far as the Scriptures teach, 
 " Jesus wept, but never laughed." The duty seemed clear, but its 
 observance was quite uncongenial with my temperament. This 
 was vivacious, cheerful and strongly inclined to mirth. I resolved, 
 however, to maintain my gravity. For a time I succeeded well. 
 Not a laugh escaped from my lips, and scarcely a smile lightened 
 my countenance. At length, however, some amusing thing was 
 said or done that upset my gravity, and my laughter was all the 
 more convulsive and vociferous because of the long-continued 
 restraint that I had imposed upon it. 
 
 This untimely and sinful outburst of mirth was followed by a 
 season of gloom, confession, penitence, tears, prayer and earnest 
 resolution not to be overtaken again with the fault. For some 
 time I carefully watched against my besetting sin, and maintained 
 an unbroken 'solemnity of countenance. It was not long, how- 
 ever, before, in an unguarded moment, some facetious remark or 
 ludicrous event overcame my resolution, and threw me into a 
 paroxysm of laughter, to be followed by another season of humil- 
 iation, sorrow and promised amendment. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE SCHOOL BOY AND HIS SCHOOLS. 
 
 DR. DANIEL WITT, in his Autobiography, gives 
 a charming account of his first meeting with 
 J. B. Jeter in 1821. His description is a poem, 
 in which he celebrates the birth of the friendship 
 which at that time sprang up between himself and 
 Jeter, and which grew in trustfulness and devotion 
 until they were put asunder by death. Of that 
 memorable intimacy I shall have occasion to speak 
 in a later chapter ; but I refer to the subject at this 
 time, simply to recall the first impressions which 
 these two mountain boys made upon each other. 
 
 Jeter was, at that time, nineteen years of age — a 
 rude farmer boy, tall and slender in form, awkward 
 in manners and clad in homespun ; but the obser- 
 vant Witt detected in him the marks of unusual 
 power. He tells us that he " was full of fire and 
 enthusiasm, and that in point of general informa- 
 tion, and in force of native intellect he seemed to be 
 far in advance of the boys with whom he was in the 
 habit of associating." 
 
 Dr. Jeter, in referring to the same event, mentions 
 an amusing little incident which first excited his 
 interest in Daniel Witt. " I remember definitely," 
 
 41 
 
42 LI* 1 E OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 he says, " that my attention was drawn to him, and 
 my desire to cultivate his acquaintance was awak- 
 ened by hearing him use the word ' circuitous.' It 
 did not belong to the vocabulary of the plain rural 
 people with whom I lived. Its use indicated a de- 
 gree of mental culture above that of my neighbors, 
 and as I had a strong aspiration for knowledge, I 
 immediately sought his society." 
 
 In this simple paragraph we have revealed to us 
 the youthful Jeter. There was in him a mind hun- 
 gry for knowledge, and unconsciously yearning for 
 intellectual sympathy. In the circle of his kindred 
 and neighbors he had not found such companion- 
 ship as met the cravings of his burning and restless 
 nature. 
 
 When by chance a kindred spirit crossed his path, 
 he opened wide his arms, and took him to his heart. 
 There is nothing more interesting than the fellow- 
 ship of kindred minds, and we can readily under- 
 stand how it came to pass that these two young 
 men, until then unknown to each other, should 
 so speedily link themselves together in friend- 
 ship. They had their respective associates, but 
 they were both superior to those upon whom they 
 had been dependent for society, and when they 
 came together, they found at once a basis for equality 
 and mutual respect. They touched each other with 
 their intellectual elbows, and found it pleasant to 
 walk in company. Their thirst for knowledge, so 
 strong in both, made them brothers. 
 
 I have sometimes thought that the most wonderful 
 feature in Dr. Jeter's character was his interest and 
 
THE SCHOOL BOY AND HIS SCHOOLS. 43 
 
 independent longing after knowledge. His mind 
 seemed to be perpetually on the alert. 
 
 His enthusiasm in study was as fresh and eager 
 when he was seventy-five years of age as it could 
 possibly have been at any other point in his life. 
 His mind was sharp, penetrating and inquisitive. 
 New questions always excited his profoundest in- 
 terest; and when once he became absorbed in the 
 pursuit of information, it was hard to stop him. He 
 would consult experts, ransack libraries and vex his 
 own brain until he had reached his conclusions. I 
 know that he was thoroughly reverent in dealing 
 with truth ; but he was sometimes so outspoken in 
 his doubts, and so persistent in his inquiries, that 
 timid people became alarmed, lest in his impetu- 
 ous pursuit he would trample the truth beneath his 
 feet. 
 
 This much I have ventured to say before inviting 
 the reader to go back with me to his childhood, and 
 study his character as a school-boy. Almost from 
 his cradle he was known as the question-asker. He 
 was a perplexing member of his household. He had 
 a way of propounding conundrums of his own in- 
 vention which no member of the family could un- 
 ravel. His curiosity was so sincere and insatiable 
 that it was impossible to keep him down. If a 
 neighbor dropped in for the evening, and fell into 
 easy chat with the family, this little white-haired 
 urchin was not only a greedy listener, but if any 
 point was left unsettled, he sprang eagerly into the 
 arena, and opened a volley of questions. When 
 strangers appeared with anything singular in their 
 
44 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 garb or manner, he was quick to observe it, and he 
 had no rule in the code of his etiquette which re- 
 strained him from demanding an explanation. Some 
 persons considered him offensively pert, and wofully 
 lacking in good manners. They did not fancy the 
 idea of being cornered by such a self-asserting young- 
 ster, and transfixed with questions which they knew 
 not how to answer. But they did the little fellow 
 injustice. He had no thought of making himself 
 disagreeable. He was not attempting to show off 
 his own smartness to the disadvantage of others. 
 It never crossed his mind that there could be any 
 harm or impoliteness in trying to find out something 
 that he did not know. As a fact, it was impossible 
 for him not to ask questions. Thirst for knowledge 
 was his master passion, and it pervaded his entire 
 personality. It was a fire in his bones, consuming 
 him day and night, and he knew not how to suppress 
 it. For him to see a thing, was to begin to think 
 about it. If he did not understand it, he looked at 
 it, walked around it, touched it and thought of it un- 
 til he settled down into some opinion which for the 
 time at least satisfied him. When not talking he 
 was thinking, and when not thinking, he was dream- 
 ing. 
 
 Such was the child when the time came for him to 
 be sent to school. He was then seven years old, a 
 slender, blue-eyed, clumsy boy. His father was an 
 overseer for General Preston in the western part of 
 Montgomery County, and the boy was sent to Peter 
 Burns, who was employed to teach in the Preston 
 family. What manner of child he then was we can 
 
THE SCHOOL BOY AND HIS SCHOOLS. 45 
 
 best learn from his subsequent writings. I present 
 here some extracts from his " Childish Philosophy," 
 an account of which is found in his " Recollections of 
 a Long Life," which he published a few years be- 
 fore his death in the Religious Herald : 
 
 CHILDISH PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 From the earliest period of my recollection my mind was given, 
 as I suppose from instinct, to speculating on the nature and causes 
 of phenomena which I saw around me. I do not know that my 
 thoughts on these subjects differed materially from those of other 
 children ; but I write some of them to afford an opportunity for 
 comparison. 
 
 I early adopted a rain-theory. The clouds, I supposed, were 
 made of tin, or some similar metal, filled with water and perfo- 
 rated with small holes — after the manner of a watering-pot, which 
 then I had never seen — each hole was stopped with a small peg, 
 to each peg a long string was tied, the great man of the skies held 
 every string in his hand, and, when he wished it to rain, he jerked 
 the strings, drew out the pegs, and down came the rain. The 
 theory seemed to me to be not only plausible, but the only one 
 that could be formed. I was as firmly convinced of its truth as 
 is Elder John Jasper that "the sun do move." How the clouds 
 were filled with water, or how the pegs, once drawn from them, 
 were restored to their holes, were questions which did not enter 
 into my juvenile philosophy. 
 
 I had quite an early and well-defined system of cosmogony. 
 The world I believed to be flat, with such inequalities as I observed 
 on its surface ; and, residing in sight of the Peaks of Otter, these 
 did not seem to be inconsiderable. I was fully convinced, by 
 what appeared to me to be conclusive reasoning, that the earth 
 floated on water. It must rest on something ; for all my obser- 
 vations satisfied me that nothing could stand without a founda- 
 tion. That the world was supported by water, there were two 
 decisive proofs. One was that, by traveling a certain distance in 
 any direction, the end of the land was reached and the water on 
 which it floated was seen; and the other was that, by digging 
 wells in the earth the water, on which it rested, was found. What 
 
46 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 supported the water was a question that never entered my juven- 
 ile brain. The intelligent reader will perceive the striking re- 
 semblance between my childish theory and the Hindoo cosmogony 
 — that the earth rests on the backs of elephants — the elephants 
 stand on turtles — the turtles swim in water — and below the water 
 there is mist down to the bottom. 
 
 One thing greatly surprised me. It was that my father's 
 house had happened to be set precisely in the middle of the world. 
 That it was, I had the most conclusive evidence. The horizon, 
 which I conceived to be the end of the world, was equidistant 
 from my home in every direction. I supposed that its favorable 
 location was simply accidental, and that no other house in all 
 the world occupied a similar position. 
 
 The most incomprehensible mystery to my boyish intellect was 
 the shoeing of a horse. For that my philosophy could find no 
 satisfactory explanation. I saw that a horse stood firmly on the 
 ground with his four feet. How a shoe could be nailed on his 
 foot, while in this position, I could not conceive. It seemed 
 equally impossible to perform the operation from above or 
 from beneath. I came to the deliberate conclusion that the 
 horse's foot was cut off, the shoe nailed on, and the foot restored 
 to its place. This theory was the best that I could devise ; but 
 it did not quite satify my mind. It was a mystery to me that 
 the operation could be performed without inflicting a wound or 
 leaving a scar on the horse. 
 
 The thoughtful reader will be struck with the fact that many 
 of the theories, discoveries and pretensions of the scientists and 
 philosophers of past ages were quite as puerile as my childish spec- 
 ulations. It has been their chief labor in each successive gener- 
 ation to overthrow the theories of their .predecessors. Many 
 notions, popular in past ages, seem now to be ridiculous. Modern 
 scientists claim to have passed far beyond the ancients in their 
 researches and discoveries. Probably they have; and yet it is 
 not unlikely that the time may come' when many of their notions, 
 falsely called science, will be regarded as the wild conceits of dis- 
 tempered brains. 
 
 It is not easy to restrain a smile, as we read some 
 of these childish speculations. At the first blush 
 
THE SCHOOL BOY AND HIS SCHOOLS. 47 
 
 they strike us as odd and illogical, and we are al- 
 most ready to conclude that their author was an idle 
 dreamer, and stupid beyond redemption. But not so. 
 Let us remember where and what the boy was at the 
 time he was indulging these ruminations. He did 
 not dwell in some beautiful city home, abounding in 
 choice books, pictures and other helps for his intel- 
 lectual quickening. In years he was only a child, 
 and he was as one walking in the darkness. His feet 
 were upon a new path, and he had no one to hold his 
 hand and lead him. He could not have been much 
 more severely alone if he had been the only child in 
 the community. In his " Childish Philosophy " he 
 records his first experiments in original thinking. 
 He undertook to deal with really profound problems, 
 concerning which he knew next to nothing. He was 
 a reasoner, but with the disadvantage of being with- 
 out adequate premises. In the fact that he grappled 
 such grave questions, and sought to master them, he 
 evinced the vigor and intrepidity of his mind, even 
 at that early point in his life. 
 
 It is pleasant to look upon the glowing face of 
 such a boy. We instinctively feel that he is one 
 of a thousand, and not destined to company with 
 the common herd. In the tumult of his childish 
 thoughts there was the prophecy of his great- 
 ness. It pointed to a world of latent forces enfolded 
 within him, and already clamorous to come forth. It 
 foreshadowed that strength which, in after-years, 
 bore him upward to the heights on which God had 
 chosen him to walk. It seems a grim Providence in- 
 deed that a youth of such imperial endowments, and 
 
48 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 so pervaded with lofty aspirations, should have been 
 hedged about with such appalling obstacles. We 
 see around us many schools crowded with boys that 
 have neither capacity nor ambition for learning. Par- 
 ents lavish their treasures in efforts to educate sons 
 who are so ignoble in their ambition, and so mean in 
 their tastes, that they idly cast away the priceless 
 blessing thus brought within reach. I am reminded 
 of the remark recently made by a friend of liberal 
 education, that he was often called to gaze upon a 
 revolting spectacle. He said that those young men 
 who have the privilege of obtaining a liberal educa- 
 tion seem to spurn their opportunity, while those 
 who, above all things, yearned after knowledge, had 
 not the means of securing it. This often seems to be 
 the case. In almost every neighborhood there can 
 be found some generously-endowed youth longing for 
 an education, and yet apparently shut off from it by 
 the inexorable decree of Heaven. 
 
 If we turn for a moment to the condition of Jeter, 
 in his early youth, we can find nothing in his circum- 
 stances which gave promise of a bright future. We are 
 painfully touched by the seeming harshness of his 
 lot. His father was visionary and neglectful of his 
 family's comfort. When yet of very tender years the 
 boy was forced into the field to aid in making bread 
 for the family. He could not attend school during 
 the cropping seasons, and had to take his chances dur- 
 ing; the short davs of winter. The weather was often 
 rigorous, the school-houses were always uncomforta- 
 ble and sometimes situated at long distances, and his 
 lessons at home were not studied under the light of 
 
THE SCHOOL BOY AND HIS SCHOOLS. 49 
 
 gas or oil, but by the uncertain flame of the log-fire 
 or the lightwood's torch. Besides, the text-books 
 used in those far-away days were few, costly and very 
 imperfect. To all the other drawbacks must be added 
 the inefficiency of the teachers. In those times it 
 was supposed that only indolent and thriftless men 
 ever taught school. Among the sturdy tillers of the 
 soil there lurked a very deep suspicion that when a 
 man set up as a school-teacher it was because he had 
 not sufficient energy to enter more active pursuits. 
 There were no examining boards to sit in judgment 
 upon the qualifications of those who undertook to 
 teach. Few parents had sufficient intelligence to es- 
 timate the intellectual calibre of those who asked for 
 their patronage. Men who were in that line of bus- 
 iness frequently entered a neighborhood on their own 
 account, and, by beating around among the people, 
 " made up the schools," of which they were the sole 
 managers. I would not reflect upon the school-mas- 
 ter of the former times. He was a pioneer, and if he 
 did not do the best work, it was due, in part, to the 
 fact that he had not received the best preparation. 
 I will presently permit Dr. Jeter to speak in his 
 own terms of the teachers at whose feet he sat, 
 and from whom he received the scanty training 
 with which he entered life ; but it seems proper here 
 to say that his history ought to be full of cheer 
 and happy encouragement to the poor youth of our 
 land. 
 
 It is not surprising that they sometimes chafe and 
 murmur under the bondage of their poverty. They 
 read of the colleges and universities, and imagine that 
 4 
 
50 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 if they could share their advantages, they would have 
 an easy march to distinction and usefulness. That 
 may be so, or it may not. After all, it is very large- 
 ly what is in a young man — his gifts, his patience 
 and his resoluteness — which fixes his destiny. With- 
 out these a college can confer no great blessings upon 
 him, and with these he may rise to honor, even 
 though he may never enter a college. His progress 
 may be slow and painful, but in a lifetime he can 
 climb to wonderful heights. It was Dr. Jeter's pur- 
 pose to " do his very best," which led him through 
 the old field schools of Bedford, and then outward 
 and upward along the way of knowledge, until he 
 had attained such a rank in life that colleges, which 
 had never helped him, were glad to honor him. 
 
 We now present to the reader Dr. Jeter's account 
 of his schools and teachers, — 
 
 Bedford is a Virginia County, lying between the James and 
 Staunton Rivers, and at the foot of the Blue Ridge. The 
 celebrated Otter Peaks are on the northwestern border of the 
 county. It is distinguished for the number, ability and useful- 
 ness of the ministers of the leading evangelical denominations who 
 have been reared within its limits. At the house of my maternal 
 grandfather, Jeremiah Hatcher, and in full view of the towering 
 mountains, my eyes first saw the light. My early recollections 
 relate chiefly to events and scenes in this old and respectable county. 
 
 I pass over many of my childhood memories, Avhich, however 
 interesting they might be to the young, are hardly compatible 
 with the design and gravity of my articles. It may be proper, 
 however, to notice the educational advantages enjoyed in the 
 county, especially that part of it in which I was reared, the 
 Fork of Otter, in the days of my boyhood. The school-houses 
 were of a primitive style of architecture, bearing a very slight 
 resemblance to the Doric, Grecian or Roman order. They were 
 
THE SCHOOL BOY AND HIS SCHOOLS. 51 
 
 constructed of logs, notched at the corners, daubed with clay, 
 covered with boards, kept in their position by weighty poles laid 
 across them, and lighted, not by glass, but through an aperture 
 between the logs, at a convenient height, which might be closed for 
 comfort by a plank susj>ended above it on leather hinges. They 
 had wide chimneys. Those who have seen them need no descrip- 
 tion of them ; and to those who have not seen them, no descrip- 
 tion could impart any just conception of them. These houses 
 were furnished with benches, without backs, on each of which a 
 dozen or more pupils might sit, in close contact. A chair and a 
 table for the teacher, with one or more good rods, completed the 
 furniture of the school-room. 
 
 The teachers were in admirable correspondence with their 
 school-houses. Persons too lazy to work and unfit for other 
 profitable employments were usually engaged as pedagogues. 
 School-books were scarce, but of divers kinds. Dilworth's spell- 
 ing-book had gone out of print, but many copies of it were in ex- 
 istence, having been used and preserved by the parents, and pos- 
 sibly the grandparents of the pupils. Highly favored were the 
 children who owned Webster's spelling-book, then just coming into 
 use. For reading, every pupil brought to the school such book 
 or books as were found in his family — they might be the Columbian 
 Orator, Scott's Lessons, the Arabian Nights, Robinson Crusoe, the 
 Bible or fragments of it, or anything else in print, historical or 
 fictitious, didactic or heroic, solemn or amusing. This diversity 
 in school-books was not so inconvenient as a modern teacher might 
 suppose. Schools were not divided into classes, but every pupil 
 " said " or read his own lesson. A slate and pencil, with paper 
 and ink for the advanced students, completed the outfit for 
 an education in the " Old Field Schools." In most of them 
 neither a dictionary, a grammar, nor an arithmetic could be 
 found. 
 
 This outfit, meagre as it was, was quite equal to the demands of 
 the curriculum, comprehending only reading, writing and cipher- 
 ing as " far as the rule of three." This last art was taught by 
 means of a manuscript book belonging to the teacher, in which the 
 arithmetical questions were not only propounded, but the process 
 of their solution was fully recorded in figures. From this source 
 
52 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 the pupils received their sums, and to this standard it was required 
 that their answers should conform. Boys, after toiling days or 
 weeks over a sum in long division, would go up to the teacher to 
 report their answer, and to hear the appalling words : " Not right." 
 They would then have to go over the tedious and perplexing cal- 
 culation, with the probability of arriving at a similar result. One 
 poor fellow labored three months at a single sum. 
 
 The rod bore an important part in the discipline of these primi- 
 tive schools. Fortunately or unfortunately, the forests furnished 
 switches which, for toughness and punitive power, threw into the 
 shade the far-famed birchen rod. The virtues of the hickory were 
 well understood by all the disciplinarians of the school-room ; and 
 its penal application was held in extreme horror by all the unruly 
 urchins of the region. It was employed with more or less freedom 
 and severity, according to the temper and views of the pedagogue. 
 Some irascible teachers used it, occasionally, at least, with unques- 
 tionable cruelty ; while others employed it to terrify rather than 
 to punish. Castigation was inflicted usually by retail; but in 
 some cases by wholesale. One teacher frequently flogged his pupils 
 by the bench. Ten or a dozen were called up at once, and each 
 received his share of the whipping. The punishment was not 
 severe. While those at the head of the line were receiving their 
 stripes, those at the other end were sniggering ; and by the time 
 the infliction was ended all were in a glee. 
 
 It is time to inquire after the attainments of the pupils in these 
 plain, rural schools. Of course, they did not learn much. If 
 most of the teachers had ever heard of accent or emphasis, they 
 furnished to their scholars no proof of their knowledge. Of 
 puuctuation, they had some vague conception. He was deemed 
 the greatest proficient in reading who could read the fastest. 
 The teacher would often call out to the pupil, reading with 
 breathless velocity : " Mind your stops ! " and the teaching in 
 punctuation was limited to this stern command. Spelling was 
 the only branch of learning cultivated successfully in these 
 schools. The pupils spelled in classes, the best spellers ascending 
 to the head, and the worst descending to the foot, of the class. 
 By this means an emulation was excited among them, which 
 made them quite ready in spelling the words found in their 
 meagre school vocabulary. 
 
THE SCHOOL BOY AND HIS SCHOOLS. 53 
 
 All the schools in the county were not alike. A grammar 
 school was taught, in the neighborhood of Liberty, the metropolis 
 of the county, by a Mr. Flood, which had quite a local reputa- 
 tion for the thoroughness of its instruction. In this school my 
 lamented friend, the late Dr. D. Witt, had the good fortune to 
 be taught. Considerable improvement was made, during my 
 school-days, in the quality of the teaching in the schools. In 
 some cases, what was lacking in merit was made up in pretension. 
 One teacher proposed to give instruction, not only in the common 
 branches of learning, but in the English grammar and in " the 
 arts and sciences " as well. As his capacity for instruction in 
 these branches was not in requisition in the school, I never knew, 
 and cannot now conjecture, what " arts and sciences " he pro- 
 posed to teach. I enjoyed the advantage of his instruction in 
 grammar. I was taught to commit the large print in Murray's 
 grammar to memory — from which attainment I afterwards derived 
 great benefit ; but if the teacher ever uttered a sentence which 
 gave any intimation of his acquaintance with the design of gram- 
 mar, I have no recollection of it, and think that if he had, I 
 should remember it. 
 
 To one of my teachers, Lewis Parker, I was under great obli- 
 gation. He was a poor young man, reared in the county. His 
 opportunities for acquiring an education had been meagre, and 
 his literary attainments were small, but he was conscious of his 
 deficiency in learning, thirsted for knowledge, and labored earn- 
 estly to instruct his pupils. He had Walker's Pronouncing Dic- 
 tionary in his school, and paid attention to accent, emphasis and 
 punctuation in his instruction. I was greatly indebted to him 
 for his tuition ; and have long lamented that his early death 
 prevented me from making this acknowledgment to him. 
 
 " There is no royal road to learning." Certainly no such 
 road led through the Bedford schools in my boyhood days. We 
 sat on no cushioned seats, handled no gilt-bound volumes, received 
 no tempting premiums and feasted on no dainty luncheons. 
 Going to school was no holiday procession, but a stern reality. 
 Many of the pupils walked three or four miles, over stony paths, 
 bare-footed, to reach the schools. In winter the attendance was 
 larger than in the summer, because more boys could then be 
 
54 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 spared from the labors of the farm. The worse the day the 
 larger the school, as the greater number of children were released 
 from home services. The pupils had invariably to cut in the 
 forests, and bear on their shoulders, the fuel by which their 
 school-rooms were warmed. 
 
 This system of education had its advantages. 
 
 " Its studies turned no student pale, 
 But took the eel of science by the tail." 
 
 If it did not make scholars, it made vigorous, self-reliant men 
 and women. In those days and in that region, neuralgia had 
 never been heard of. The girls and boys knew what hunger 
 meant, but were strangers to dyspepsia. They had muscles, if they 
 had not refinement. They had brains, too, healthy, well-devel- 
 oped brains ; and though, in general, there was not much in them, 
 they were capable of thinking and of indefinite improvement. 
 
 Nor was this all. The art of reading lies at the foundation of 
 all learning. The man who can read has access to all the 
 treasures of history, science and philosophy ; can revel amid all 
 the charms of fiction and poetry ; and can master all the in- 
 tricacies of statesmanship, and all the secrets of professional 
 knowledge. His learning must be acquired with greater toil 
 and with slower progress than if he had received early and 
 thorough educational training ; but when he reaches it, he may 
 have it all the more perfectly at his command because of the 
 perplexities through which he acquired it. 
 
 Not all the Bedford boys of the olden time became distin- 
 guished. In the best-taught and best-regulated schools only a 
 small proportion of the pupils become scholars or prominent in 
 life. Quite a fair number of the youth trained in these ill- 
 supplied and ill-taught country schools became distinguished, if 
 not for their learning, at least for their good sense, their practical 
 wisdom and their usefulness. Some with their meagre educa- 
 tional advantages, through long years, struggled up the rugged 
 hill of knowledge to no mean elevation. Others found in con- 
 tiguous regions means of intellectual improvement denied to 
 them in their native county. 
 
THE SCHOOL BOY AND HIS SCHOOLS. 55 
 
 A SPELLING MATCH. 
 
 When I was a lad, probably ten years old, there were two rival 
 schools in my neighborhood. The rivalry culminated in a "Spell- 
 ing Bee," to adopt a modern Americanism, but it was then called 
 a spelling match. Reading was taught in the schools, with no 
 regard to accent or emphasis, and with very little to punctuation ; 
 and the glibbest reader was deemed the best. Composition was 
 an art unknown ; and the word would have been accounted out- 
 landish in most of the schools. Spelling was the one branch of 
 learning on which they prided themselves. The schools above 
 alluded to boasted of their attainments in this popular exercise, 
 each claiming to excel the other. Public opinion was divided on 
 the subject, and it was resolved to submit the question to the test 
 of experiment. 
 
 Each school selected a champion speller. John Houston was 
 the standard-bearer of one school. He was a bright, modest, 
 promising boy, not far from a dozen years old. I was chosen to 
 vindicate the honor of the other school. I was larger, but prob- 
 ably not older than John, and certainly was not less ambitious to 
 excel than he was. We were, for some weeks, carefully trained 
 for our literary contest. All things were in readiness for it. 
 
 The schools, situated four or five miles apart, met at an inter- 
 mediate blacksmith-shop. Under the shade of oaks, rude seats 
 had been prepared for the accommodation of the schools and their 
 friends. Quite an audience was present, as the match had excited 
 no little interest in the quiet, rural neighborhood. Fortunately 
 for their comfort, the day was calm, bright and pleasant. The 
 boys spelled alternately in the geographical vocabulary of Noah 
 Webster's spelling-book. Each school looked with confidence for 
 the success of its champion. For some time the race was equal ; 
 but John began to misspell words rather frequently. I had failed 
 in one or two, and he on six or eight. His teacher, gazing at him 
 with anxious look, said : "John, you are falling might'ly behind 
 the stump " — an expression then common in that region. It was 
 the language of solicitude, and not of reproof; but whatever 
 might have been the interpretation that John put upon it, his 
 feelings became uncontrollable, and he burst into tears and sobs ; 
 all the audience sympathizing in his grief, and none more sin- 
 
56 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 cerely than I. This ended the spelling match. I had triumphed, 
 but I would have more heartily enjoyed my success had it not 
 been associated with the deep mortification of my opponent, for 
 whom I had a kind regard. More than sixty years have passed 
 since the event, and quite half a century since I saw or heard of 
 John Houston. He has probably departed from the land of the 
 living ; but if he is still on earth, it would afford me great pleasure 
 to grasp his hand, for I am quite sure, from the excellent qualities 
 of his boyhood, that he ripened into a solid, worthy man. 
 
 The spelling match was as far removed from gaming as the 
 most ascetic moralist could desire. It was agreed that if John 
 won, his teacher would give him a knife ; and if I was successful, 
 my teacher would give me one. In that day, and in that region, 
 where so little was contributed to the enjoyment of boys, the knife 
 would have been to me a treasure ; but I never received it. 
 Whether my teacher thought I had not fairly won it, or it would 
 be too heavy a draft on his meagre resources, or his memory was 
 less tenacious than my own, it is needless now to inquire. 
 
 The droll episode described below is not really 
 connected with his school-life, but as it belongs to 
 the days when he was a school-boy, I venture to 
 admit it at this point. 
 
 FALSE ECONOMY. 
 
 When I was eleven years old my father resided in the town of 
 Salem, then Botetourt, now Roanoke County. As a reward or a 
 gift I received four pence ha'penny — a small silver coin, worth 
 six and a quarter cents — then in general circulation. From my 
 childhood I have had greater aptitude for spending than for 
 gaining or keeping money. After due consideration, I resolved 
 to spend my first four pence ha'penny for ginger-cakes — a kind 
 of sweet bread, then sold at musters and other public gatherings. 
 An old woman cake-baker resided on the suburb of the town. To 
 her house I repaired to invest my money. On arriving at the 
 place I inquired of her if she had any ginger-cakes. She replied 
 that she had none. This was a damper. I was disappointed, for 
 
THE SCHOOL BOY AND HIS SCHOOLS. 57 
 
 I was fond of the cakes and had anticipated much enjoyment in 
 eating them. I was balked, but not defeated. The money was 
 of no use to me unless I could spend it. As cakes and beer were 
 usually sold together, I asked the old woman if she had any beer. 
 She answered that she had no beer, but had some cider. For 
 several years I had abstained from the use of distilled liquors, but 
 had indulged in drinking cider. I had no special desire for it, 
 but, as there was no other way of using my money, I requested 
 her to let me have four pence ha'penny worth of cider. The old 
 woman soon brought out a quart of it, and I handed her my money. 
 On tasting it I was sorely disappointed. It was hard, bitter and 
 positively nauseous. If my father had had a thousand gallons of 
 such cider I should not have drunk a spoonful of it. I was, how- 
 ever, in a dilemma. I must either drink the cider or lose my 
 money. To drink the cider was revolting to my taste, and to lose 
 money was in violation of my economy. After some hesitation 
 my love of money triumphed over my aversion to hard cider. I 
 resolved to drink it and save the four pence ha'penny. 
 
 How much of the cider — vinegar, more properly — I drank I 
 do not recollect, but I remember that my head became dizzy and 
 I indulged in some rudeness to the cake-baker, which she threat- 
 ened to report to my father. I was not so much intoxicated as 
 not to know that it would be unpleasant for my condition to be 
 known in my family. I returned home, crept cautiously to my 
 room and went to bed. At supper-time I was missing, and my 
 absence caused no little surprise, as I was usually present at 
 meals. Search was made for me and I was found in my bed fast 
 asleep. Some time during the night I awoke, felt qualmish, went 
 to a window and got rid of both my cider and my four pence 
 ha'penny. 
 
 My intoxication differed widely from ordinary cases of the evil. 
 Usually men get drunk with a knowledge that their drunkenness 
 will cost them money ; I got drunk simply from a desire to save 
 it. Ordinarily persons get drunk for the pleasure of indulging 
 their appetite ; I got drunk by offering a disgusting offence to 
 mine. Most persons who get drunk once repeat the offence, and 
 many of them until the vice becomes habitual and ruinous ; one 
 indulgence in the luxury satisfied me, and from that day to this 
 
58 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 I have carefully eschewed it. Drunkenness is not necessarily a 
 sin. A man may be intoxicated by accident, through false views, 
 or from deceptive motives, without guilt. I have recalled my in- 
 ebriation with amusement rather than penitence, and have re- 
 corded it to teach that it is false economy to endeavor to save 
 money by eating or drinking what one does not need. 
 
 It is an exciting point in a boy's life when he 
 first enters school, and all the more when he has 
 not been already taught at home. It is a new busi- 
 ness with him — his first venture beyond his father's 
 gate, and he goes forth with mingled emotions of 
 dread, curiosity and pride. He sees things with 
 keen eyes, and the smallest incidents fasten deeply 
 upon his memory. He is easily pleased, and just as 
 easily shocked and estranged. 
 
 Young Jeter met on the threshold of his school 
 life one of the severest trials which he ever had. I 
 have spoken of the incompetency of his teachers. 
 It was bad enough that they were so lacking in the 
 ability to give instruction ; but it was even more to 
 be deplored that they had no tact for management. 
 They were often vain of their authority, suspicious 
 and ready to punish every impropriety, and that too 
 when they had only the crudest notion as to what 
 constituted a real misdemeanor. In the subjoined 
 incident, Dr. Jeter tells of an outrage perpetrated 
 upon him when seven years old by his first teacher, 
 Peter Burns. It was a shock to his nature which 
 so awakened his youthful wrath that nothing but 
 the grace of God enabled him to subdue his resent- 
 ment. He was mad with Burns, even to the fight- 
 ing point, for twelve years. Here is his story : 
 
THE SCHOOL BOY AND HIS SCHOOLS. 59 
 
 PETER BURNS. 
 
 When I was seven years old, my father resided at a place 
 called the Horse Shoe, in the county of Montgomery, now Pu- 
 laski, as a manager for General John Preston, who is well 
 remembered as a defaulting Treasurer of Virginia. He had a 
 teacher in his family called Peter Burns. He was an Irishman, 
 small of stature, quite advanced in years, who had taught school 
 in Richmond, I know not how long, nor with what success. The 
 late John Valentine, long clerk of the Second Market, knew him 
 as a schoolmaster in this city. In the ramily school of General 
 Preston my literary training was unsuccessfully commenced. I 
 remember but a single event in my brief course of study, and 
 that made an indelible impression on my mind. 
 
 One morning I was early in the school-room. On reaching it, 
 I found there John, a colored boy, belonging to General Preston, 
 who was being educated with his children. Soon the teacher 
 arrived, and it was discovered that a copy-book had been scrib- 
 bled. I was asked if I knew aught about the matter, and de- 
 clared, with perfect sincerity, that I did not. John, however, 
 testified that I had scribbled the book. On the testimony of 
 John, I was convicted of the offence, against my tearful protesta- 
 tions. My condemnation, under the circumstances, was a folly 
 and an outrage ; but if I had been guilty, the offence was trivial. 
 The scratching of a copy-book by a boy seven years old, just 
 entering a school, and without any knowledge that such an act 
 was criminal, was surely a very venial offence. It did not, how- 
 ever, so appear in the eyes of Mr. Burns. He made me take off 
 my jacket, and stand with my hands upon a bench before me in 
 a convenient position to receive a flogging. I do not think that 
 I was much hurt ; but I was frightened almost to death. So soon 
 as I could make my escape, I returned home, and never again 
 entered the school of Peter Burns. 
 
 The trial had passed, but was not forgotten. I made up my 
 mind that if I ever grew to have sufficient strength, I would 
 chastise Peter Burns. The resolution was formed in my inmost 
 soul, and grew with my growth, and strengthened with my 
 strength. At any time after I reached the age of seventeen 
 years, until I made a profession of religion, if I had met my 
 
60 EIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 tyrannical schoolmaster, neither a regard to his age, nor respect, 
 for law, nor reverence for public opinion, would have prevented 
 me from inflicting on him personal chastisement. 
 
 Many years ago the old man ended, under I know not what 
 circumstances, his earthly career, and I have do motive to form 
 a harsh opinion of his conduct. Possibly he thought he was 
 doing right, and seeking my interest, in the fright he gave me. 
 In that case, only his judgment was at fault. In so far as pas- 
 sion influenced his judgment, he was morally culpable. I judge 
 him not ; but I may surely avail myself of the case to make a 
 few cautionary remarks. Great care should be taken in dealing 
 with children. They are entitled to justice, and generally under- 
 stand what it is. They do not readily forget the wrongs they 
 suffer, nor the favors they receive. Mr. Burns might more easily 
 have made me his friend than his foe. By flagrant injustice, he 
 inspired my heart with a burning resentment, which grace, I 
 trust, quenched, but of which neither time nor grace has effaced 
 the remembrance. School-teachers are in great danger of acting 
 with rashness and cruelty toward their pupils. Not a few in- 
 stances, more in former than in later times, of false judgment and 
 severity exercised by teachers toward their defenceless scholars 
 have come to my knowledge. I protest against these outrages. 
 Children are thoughtless, impulsive, indiscreet and liable to be 
 perverse ; but they should be dealt with at least justly. Parents 
 and the managers of public schools should see to it that children 
 under their control are treated with due tenderness and modera- 
 tion ; and teachers should be made to understand that all pas- 
 sionate and unjust dealings with children are criminal, and will 
 provoke at least a righteous public indignation. 
 
 It will be noticed in his " Recollections " that he 
 makes a playful allusion to one of his teachers who 
 claimed to add to his other accomplishments the 
 ability to furnish valuable instruction in the arts 
 and sciences. It seems that gradually the inquisitive 
 pupil began to suspect that these pretensions on the 
 part of the new teacher were not well founded. His 
 
THE SCHOOL BOY AND HIS SCHOOLS. 61 
 
 quick eye discovered in the pompous personage who 
 talked so glibly about the " arts and sciences " some 
 suggestive symptoms of fraud. He did not believe 
 in him and he resolved to put him to the test. But 
 let him tell his own story : 
 
 Light was being radiated from a neighboring school. That 
 school enjoyed the advantage of possessing a Walker's Pronounc- 
 ing Dictionary. I had learned that Walker pronounced the 
 word panegyric differently from what my teacher of the " arts 
 and sciences" did, and I resolved to put his scholarship to the 
 test. I selected a reading-lesson, containing the word of doubtful 
 pronunciation, and read it distinctly, calling the word according 
 to Walker's standard, pan-e-gyr-ic. " Pa-neg-y-ric " said the 
 teacher. " Walker," I said hesitatingly, " pronounces it pan-e- 
 gyr-ic." " The best rhetoricians," he replied, in an excited man- 
 ner, " that I have ever seen pronounce it pa-neg-y-ric" " Pa-neg- 
 y-ric" said I, and continued my reading. 
 
 It seems that he did not learn to read until he was 
 nine years old. His flight from the school in which 
 Peter Burns held such cruel sway secured for him a 
 vacation of two years. At the end of that time his 
 father, who, as his son said, " always thought that he 
 could do better somewhere else than where he was," 
 left Montgomery County, and returned to Bedford. 
 There the boy was sent to school again. The history 
 of that school is very brief; but it was not without 
 its advantages. This is what Dr. Jeter has to say 
 about his second advent into school-life : 
 
 I went to school fourteen days, at the end of which time my 
 teacher got drunk, left the school, and I never heard of him 
 afterwards. That short season of instruction was an epoch in my 
 life. I commenced with the alphabet, and learned to read before 
 the elopement of the teacher. I learned to read by chance. I 
 
G2 LIFE OF JEItEMI All B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 had been taught to spell in monosyllables; I was one day looking 
 into my spelling-book, and my attention rested on the line: "No 
 man may put off the law of God." I spelt one word after 
 another till the sense of the line burst upon my mind, and the 
 mystery of reading was revealed to me. From that moment my 
 thirst for learning became insatiable, and I pursued it in all its 
 accessible paths with increasing pleasure. 
 
 It is enough to melt a generous heart to deepest 
 pity to read Jeter's description of the obstacles which 
 stood between him and even the scanty and imper- 
 fect educational facilities which were offered in the 
 days of his youth. He says that he could go to 
 school only in leisure seasons, and on rainy days, 
 and at irregular and sometimes long intervals. His 
 father and mother had but a meagre education, 
 and no gift for imparting instruction. Except his 
 few school-books, there was no printed page in his 
 fathers bouse save the fragments of a Bible. 
 
 What he learned he did not understand ; so quick 
 was his mind, and so tenacious his memory, that he 
 speedily committed to memory all the coarse print 
 in Murray's Grammar; but that was all of it. lie 
 was then under the tutelage of the professor of the 
 " arts and sciences," but that distinguished oracle 
 did not really understand the design of grammar. 
 He simpty sat in silence and heard the scholars glibly 
 rattle off what they had mechanically packed away 
 in their memories. The substance of his school-life 
 was that he had not half a chance to go to school, 
 and when he did go, Jie was compelled to sit at the 
 feet of those who were utterly incompetent to in- 
 struct him. 
 
THE SCHOOL BOY AND HIS SCHOOLS. 63 
 
 Of the utter lack of literary enthusiasm among his 
 associates he has this to say : 
 
 I went to school with several boys of bright minds, who learned 
 with great facility, but they had no aspirations for learning, and 
 were never aware of their latent powers. In my neighborhood 
 there was nothing to awaken or cherish a literary spirit. There 
 was no library, and but few books, and they were of little value ; 
 no literary society, nor a single individual who took a newspaper. 
 In a contiguous neighborhood, when I was nearly grown, a de- 
 bating club was formed, of which I became a member. I made 
 my debut as a public speaker on the question, " Is beauty real or 
 imaginary?" I espoused the side of its reality, and after the 
 lapse of more than half a century I have quite a vivid recollec- 
 tion of my speech. 
 
 Evidently the one redeeming incident in Jeter's 
 school-life was his association with Lewis Parker. 
 He never recalled his name except with tender and 
 grateful pleasure. He was a poor, ambitious youth, 
 who had made a manly struggle for an education, 
 and who joined with his anxiety to learn, a keen 
 relish for teaching. He was painfully conscious of 
 his deficiencies, and not ashamed to confess his ignor- 
 ance. In his candor and sympathy this aspiring 
 boy found encouragement. He could ask as many 
 questions as he pleased without the dread of rebuke. 
 He could state his objections without exposing him- 
 self to the charge of impertinence. In his contact 
 with this studious and kind-hearted young man he 
 found great advantages. They became companions 
 and helped each other. It would often happen that 
 young Jeter would be kept at home ; but so refreshed 
 and inspired was he by the influence of his beloved 
 
64 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 teacher, that he tells us that many a day he followed 
 the plough, with the book or manuscript containing 
 his lesson fastened between its handles, so that he 
 might read while he worked. 
 
 In his later days Dr. Jeter was always glad to talk 
 about Lewis Parker. He thought of him as one of 
 his early benefactors. He stood out upon the can- 
 vas of his memory as a lovely and honored figure. 
 Of all his teachers, Parker was the most inspiring 
 and helpful to him. He records with evident sor- 
 row the fact that this friend of his youth died while 
 yet a young man, and before he had the opportunity 
 of expressing to him his grateful recollection of his 
 kindness. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 HIS CONVERSION. 
 
 NINETEEN years out of Christ ! Nineteen years 
 in the service of Satan ! Nearly a score of 
 years spent in darkness, and almost worse than 
 wasted ! Truly a sad fact in the history of Dr. Jeter. 
 It was a pity indeed, that one-fourth of his appointed 
 years on the earth, and those in many respects the 
 most important, should have been given to earthly 
 things. We can never estimate the loss which he 
 suffered in the delay of his conversion. He felt it 
 most keenly, and was never more earnest than in 
 urging the claims of Christ upon the young. 
 
 And yet, we cannot be surprised that his accept* 
 ance of the Gospel did not come sooner. He grew 
 up at a time when it was not expected that children 
 would turn their thoughts to religion. Ministers 
 made no appeals to the young, and any exhibition of 
 religious emotion on the part of children was regarded 
 with suspicion. To this fact we must add another. 
 In the household where young Jeter grew up there 
 were no church members, and in a large degree he 
 was cut off from religious privileges. He did not 
 often hear the Gospel, and the preachers in those 
 days took no pains to make their sermons specially 
 5 65 
 
66 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 applicable or attractive to the young people. Hence 
 it came to pass that not until he had entered his 
 twentieth year did he know the grace of God. 
 
 Let it be said, however, that he was never decid- 
 edly irreligious. He was always free from vicious 
 habits and from his childhood he believed in the ex- 
 istence of God. But he did not have any decided 
 conviction that it was his duty to become a Chris- 
 tion. With such a nature as his, and without the 
 controlling influence of the Gospel, we can well un- 
 derstand what manner of boy he was. He was 
 brimful of vitality, ambition and restlessness. He 
 gave himself freely to such pleasures as fell within 
 his reach. He was full of frivolity, merriment and 
 mischief. He had an inborn passion for pre-emi- 
 nence and he sought to lead in whatever he under- 
 took. In the sports of the play-ground and the 
 amusements of social life he was always conspicu- 
 ous. He was fond of jesting and always ready for 
 a practical joke. His sense of the ludicrous was 
 keen even to excess, and his fondness for laughter 
 and fun amounted to a contagion. He made things 
 lively wherever he went. He could tell a story 
 with fine effect, and he was an expert in caricature. 
 A gleeful, rollicksome, light-hearted boy he was, joy- 
 ous in the flow of his young life, and with no dread 
 of evils to come. Had he remained out of Christ, 
 his self-respect and native self-mastery would prob- 
 ably have saved him from a corrupt and wantonly 
 wicked life, and yet it is hard to tell into what path 
 his wild ambition would have led him. Had he 
 served the devil, he would have been a leader of 
 
HIS CONVERSION. 67 
 
 dangerous power and his example would have been 
 mighty for evil. 
 
 But beneath the gleam and laughter of his youth 
 there was always a sober spirit. When he was yet 
 a child his soul was often burdened with deep and 
 solemn thoughts. Unusual events often turned the 
 current of his thinking towards eternity. He men- 
 tions that when he was a little boy, an aged woman, 
 who was an inmate of his father's house, died. The 
 spectacle of death startled him with overwhelming 
 surprise. It thrilled him with awful thoughts of the 
 grave and of the world to come. He caught a 
 glimpse of the spirit-world and for many days he was 
 quiet and afraid. If, then, some Christian teacher 
 had opened before him the gateway of spiritual life, 
 it is not too much to say that his restless spirit would 
 have gladly entered it. 
 
 The real difficulty in his case was, that he was 
 ignorant of the Gospel. His religious education had 
 been utterly neglected. He did not know the way 
 of life, because there was no man to point it out to 
 him. In reading the story of his conversion we will 
 find that he came to the cross by slow and irregular 
 steps. That weary and chequered experience 
 through which he passed was the journey of one 
 who, with many hindrances and few helps, was 
 stumbling in the dark. He was a " seeker " for many 
 weeks, and indeed for several years he was the sub- 
 ject of many harrowing and distressing convictions. 
 To us who have long walked in the heavenly way, 
 and have found it so clear and pleasant, it seems 
 odd that he should have been so slow in finding it. 
 
68 LI^E OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 But we must not reproach him. No man cared for 
 his soul, and he struggled alone. Had the light been 
 brighter, he would have walked faster. 
 
 But I will not anticipate. It will be better to al- 
 low him to celebrate in his own way that matchless 
 grace which rescued him from bondage and brought 
 him into the kingdom of Christ Jesus. It seems fit- 
 ting that the account of his conversion should be in- 
 troduced with his history of that celebrated revival 
 which swept over Bedford in 1821, and during which 
 his conversion occurred. 
 
 THE GREAT REVIVAL. 
 
 In the beginning of the century there was a considerable re- 
 ligious awakening in the land of my nativity. I frequently heard 
 my seniors tell of the preachers, meetings and converts of those 
 times. They had been succeeded by a long-continued season of 
 religious coldness and sterility. Local revivals, of very limited 
 influence, undoubtedly occurred ; but when I had reached the 
 age of nineteen years, none had come within the range of my ob- 
 servation. People attended religious meetings occasionally, but 
 rather to see and hear what was passing than to be profited by 
 the word of God. Churches were small, and composed exclusively 
 of members who had reached or passed the meridian of life. 
 
 In the summer of 1821 there began to appear signs of an ap- 
 proaehing religious revival. Congregations were larger, preach- 
 ing was more searching and earnest and was heard with greater 
 attention and solemnity, tears furnished proof of more tender feel- 
 ing, and prayers for the conversion of sinners were more import- 
 unate than in years past. The churches hoped for a speedy and 
 copious ingathering of precious souls. In the latter part of 
 August, a meeting of several days was held at Hatcher's meeting- 
 house. On Sunday the assembly was large. The pulpit in the 
 grove was occupied, successively and without intermission, by 
 Elders John Davis, Absalom Dempsey, William Harris and 
 William Leftwich. Their sermons, not abridged in length, but 
 
HIS CONVERSION. 69 
 
 increased in power, were heard with unabated interest to the 
 close. The time to favor Zion — yea, the set time — had come. 
 The ministers had preached the same doctrine, to the same people, 
 under similar circumstances, many a time, without any apparent 
 effect. Now there seemed to be a mysterious, pervasive and sub- 
 duing influence attending their ministrations. The thoughtless 
 became attentive ; the frivolous were awed into solemnity ; eyes 
 unused to weeping poured out rivers of water ; and not a few 
 persons gave utterance to sobs, sighs and lamentations. The 
 preaching was followed by singing, prayer and appropriate coun- 
 sels and exhortations. Many who had come for amusement re- 
 mained for devotion. Gradually and slowly the congregation 
 dispersed, some remaining till the approach of evening admon- 
 ished them to depart. 
 
 At that time " protracted meetings," in the present acceptation 
 of the phrase, were unknown. Meetings of two or three days 
 were held, but no religious interest or prospect of usefulness sug- 
 gested their longer continuance. After the awakening services 
 referred to above, religious meetings were greatly multiplied. 
 They were mostly held of nights at private houses, or of afternoons 
 in arbors, prepared for the purpose, in forests. At these meetings 
 the attendance was large and solemn — heed was generally given 
 to the gospel. Inquirers were invited to kneel for prayer, and 
 sometimes tc occupy special seats for receiving private instruction. 
 There was, I now think, a serious defect in the directions given to 
 the anxious. They were taught the necessity of passing through 
 a round of experience in order to be prepared to receive Christ. 
 Whether the excellent fathers intended to make this impression, I 
 cannot say, but such was the result of their teaching. Awakened, 
 troubled souls — polluted, guilty and helpless — instead of learning 
 that it was their duty to believe in Christ, cherished the delusion 
 that they must come to him only as penitent or renovated sinners. 
 They must be good before Christ could accept them. They must 
 be healed before they could apply to the Physician. Under this 
 mistake many burdened souls labored for weeks and months in 
 the vain effort to make themselves worthy. In spite of the delu- 
 sion, and the embarrassment and delay consequent on it,the work 
 of conversion went on. The revival spread steadily from neigh- 
 
70 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 borhood to neighborhood, from church to church, and from Bed- 
 ford to the contiguous counties of Franklin, Pittsylvania, Bote- 
 tourt and Campbell. Several things were notable in this revival- 
 
 It was of long continuance. Most modern revivals, dependent 
 on protracted meeting efforts, are transient. They resemble a 
 hasty summer shower, refreshing while it lasts, but followed soon 
 by drought and barrenness. This revival continued for many 
 months, not all the time in one community, but spreading gradu- 
 ally, as fire in dry stubble, wafted by a gentle wind, from church 
 to church, and from one neighborhood to another. Neither the 
 heat of summer nor the cold of winter, the toils of autumn nor the 
 attractions of spring arrested its progress. Pastors, after weeks of 
 absence, would return to the flocks to find that there had been no 
 abatement in their religious feelings. 
 
 In a remarkable degree the revival was promoted by agents 
 created by itself. In almost every neighborhood where it pre- 
 vailed young men were called into the ministry. They were very 
 imperfectly equipped for their work, but they labored among a 
 plain people, whose demands for ministerial gifts were not high 
 and whose spirit was not critical. If these young evangelists could 
 not present a logical argument for the truth of the gospel, they 
 believed it with all their hearts, and preached because they did 
 believe. They were unacquainted with many scriptural doctrines, 
 and especially with the proofs of their divinity, but they under- 
 stood the way of salvation. If they could not contend with astute 
 skeptics, they could guide the honest, earnest inquirer to life eter- 
 nal. Their sermons were impressive, rather than instructive, and 
 were noted, not for the variety, but for the importance of the 
 truths they conveyed. They had learned the corruption of their 
 own hearts, and the fearfulness of their own guilt, and could tes- 
 tify, from sweet experience, the power and freeness of redeeming 
 grace. They went forth to their work plainly clad, without con- 
 veyances, and some of them without a pocket-Bible or a hymn- 
 book, but with glowing zeal for the salvation of souls. Whether 
 they had been called to the ministry, or were in the apostolic suc- 
 cession, were questions which did not occupy their minds. The 
 people desired to hear something about Christ, and what these 
 young brethren knew concerning him they were willing to tell in 
 
HIS CONVERSION. 71 
 
 such language as their hearers could understand. The desire to 
 listen to their ministrations was general and intense, and due, 
 doubtless, in part, to the prevalence of the revival, and, in part, 
 to their juvenility and the freshness of their preaching. Every- 
 where their visits were received with pleasure, their congregations 
 were large and their labors were crowned with success. They did 
 not labor alone, but in harmony with, and under the direction of, 
 the settled pastors of the churches. 
 
 The revival was distinguished for the excellence of its fruits. I 
 have no means of estimating the number added by it to the 
 churches. It was common for persons, under conviction of sin, to 
 fall, lie on the floor or ground for hours, and to exhibit the signs 
 of deep feeling, such as tears, groans and crying for mercy. These 
 exercises, I am convinced, were not unavoidable, neither were 
 they feigned. They sprang partly from an excitable tempera- 
 ment, and partly from an erroneous impression that they were the 
 proper signs of true repentance. Honest, but ill-informed persons 
 cherished these bodily exercises as the best means of securing sal- 
 vation. Time demonstrated that those who made the greatest show 
 of their feelings were not always the most profitably impressed. 
 One man, whose intense emotions and violent convulsions I 
 heartily envied, proved to be, in after times, a most unsteady and 
 unfruitful Christian. 
 
 This revival was specially important as forming a sort of con- 
 necting link between the old and new dispensations of the 
 Virginia Baptists. The fathers preached without salaries, main- 
 tained themselves by their secular toils and trained the churches 
 most successfully to give nothing for the support of the gospel. 
 Many of them were opposed, not to learned ministers, but to the 
 training of ministers for their work. They were unfortunately 
 driven to these extremes by their opposition to the colonial relig- 
 ous establishment. As they charged the clergy with preaching 
 from mercenary motives, they deemed it necessary to show their 
 own disinterestedness by preaching without fee or reward. As 
 they maintained that the clergy were men-made preachers, they 
 aimed to demonstrate that they themselves were God-made teachers 
 by preaching without special training for it. With all their ex- 
 cellent qualities and noble works, they erred on these points. 
 
72 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 These mistakes the progress of knowledge and experience was sure 
 to correct. The new dispensation — the time of missions, Sunday- 
 schools, and ministerial and general education — was coetaneous 
 with the revival above described. It was not the cause, but an 
 important factor in the change. It would have taken place 
 had the revival not occurred, but certainly not in precisely the 
 same way. It gave a mighty impulse to the Baptist cause in the 
 upper portion of the State — an impulse that was soon felt to its 
 utmost limits — and furnished the first missionaries to the Gene- 
 ral Association. 
 
 The fathers who labored in that revival long since ceased from 
 their labors, and entered into rest. Of all the ministers called out 
 by it, only two or three are now living. It is pleasant to consider 
 that the cause which they loved, and for the promotion of which 
 they labored, still lives, and, so far as it is right and pleasing to 
 God, will live and prosper, and finally triumph. 
 
 MY EXPERIENCE. 
 
 " Experience,'* as it was generally called, occupied a much 
 more prominent place in sermons and in religious conversation 
 fifty years ago than it now does. It signified that series of con- 
 victions, emotions and conflicts intervening between the time of 
 the awakening and the conversion of a sinner. The term might 
 not have been well chosen ; but it was well understood by those 
 who used it. Every Christian has, and must have, an expe- 
 rience. Conversion is invariably preceded and accompanied by 
 certain mental exercises, more or less intense and lasting, and 
 these constitute an experience — a Christian experience. It is 
 not the whole of a Christian's experience, but that part of it 
 which is essential to constitute him a Christian. There is great 
 diversity as well as great harmony in the experiences of Chris- 
 tians. They all have the same sense of guilt and depravity, the 
 same sorrow for sin, the same despair of salvation by works, the 
 same trust in Christ, the same feeling of deliverance from sin 
 and guilt, and the same joyful hope of eternal life; but the 
 order, intensity, intermingling and continuance of these exer- 
 cises vary with every true convert. I had an experience, which 
 I am willing to record for the encouragement of anxious inquirers 
 
HIS CONVERSION. 73 
 
 on the subject of religion. I give it publicity with the greater 
 pleasure because it contains nothing, except mere circumstantials, 
 which is not common in the experience of every Christian. If 
 I state some things that are trivial, and scarcely compatible with 
 the gravity of the theme, it is because they may afford encour- 
 agement to inquirers and assist in guiding sinners assailed by 
 similar temptations. 
 
 I was brought up without special religious instruction. Neither 
 my father nor my mother was a member of a church. My 
 mother, having been trained by a pious father, had strong relig- 
 ious convictions ; and her conversation on pious subjects, though 
 rarely addressed to me, made an early and deep impression on 
 my mind. From my childhood I considered religion as supremely 
 important, and viewed all Christians with veneration. My op- 
 portunities for gaining religious knowledge were little better 
 abroad than at home. I heard preaching not oftener, perhaps, 
 than once a month, and much of that was of a kind not adapted 
 to my instruction. The sermons of the time, long and tedious, 
 were largely devoted to the fierce discussion of abstruse doctrinal 
 points. Occasionally my sympathies would be excited by a 
 warm, sing-song discourse. 
 
 In my boyhood I cherished the hope that, in due time, I would 
 be converted. That it was my duty to be a Christian, was a 
 thought which never entered my mind. The preaching that I 
 heard made on me the impression that I must quietly wait until 
 God's time for my conversion should come — if, indeed, it should 
 ever come. Vv^ith these views I grew up, spending the Sundays 
 in which I had not an opportunity to hear preaching in visiting 
 and in the amusements and sports of the times. 
 
 I remember distinctly the first prayer that I ever uttered. It 
 was in the summer of 1810 when I was about seventeen years 
 old. As I was plowing alone, my thoughts were suddenly ar- 
 rested by the presence and majesty of God. I was overwhelmed 
 with awe, and, falling on my knees, pleaded with God for mercy. 
 Though I knew that no being but the Omniscient saw me, I was 
 filled with deep shame that I had attempted to pray. For days 
 I went with a downcast countenance, not having courage to look 
 my friends in the face, and ashamed that even God should have 
 
74 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 heard ray prayers. My impressions, however, were not imme- 
 diately effaced. For several weeks I carefully concealed my 
 emotions, but continued to pray for Divine aid. In this time I 
 became quite self-righteous. I was growing, as I supposed, very 
 good, and looked with great compassion on my companions in 
 their levity, guilt and danger. In a few weeks my impressions 
 were effaced, and my fair resolutions were abandoned. My 
 goodness, as the morning cloud and as the early dew, passed 
 away. 
 
 I have referred, in another article, to the revival which com- 
 menced in my neighborhood in the year 1821. In the early 
 summer I attended a Sabbath service at the Suck Spring Baptist 
 meeting-house, near my paternal residence. I did what it was 
 unusual for me to do — remained without the house during the 
 sermon. It was a communion season. After the congregation 
 had partially dispersed, I went into the house. The service was 
 about closing, as usual on such an occasion, with singing a song 
 and shaking hands. There was much warmth of feeling among 
 the communicants. It was one of the signs of the approaching 
 revival. At first I amused myself with a young lady of my ac- 
 quaintance, who was looking gravely on the scene. Soon my 
 own attention was arrested by it, and I burst into an irrepressi- 
 ble flood of tears. My mortification at this unexpected, and, as 
 it appeared to me, unseemly demonstration of feeling, was in- 
 tense. I left the house, concealed myself until the congregation 
 had all left, and then rode home alone and in anxious thought. 
 This was the commencement of my second effort to become a 
 Christian. I betook myself to reading the Scriptures, meditation 
 and prayer. In a few days I attended the burial of a young 
 man whom I had known. He was of respectable connections, 
 but had become intemperate, and, by a reckless course of dissi- 
 pation, had brought himself to an untimely end. As the body 
 had been brought a considerable distance to be interred, it was 
 deemed proper to open the coffin. I looked into it, and such a 
 sight I have never elsewhere seen. The eyes and mouth of the 
 corpse were stretched wide open, and neither force nor skill 
 could close them. The unfortunate death of the young man and 
 the horrid appearance of his ghastly face made a deep impression 
 
HIS CONVERSION. 75 
 
 on my nervous system, that had been weakened by anxiety and 
 sleeplessness. I lost all interest in society, pursued my daily 
 labor with a heavy heart, ate my food without relish, and could 
 not close my eyes at night without having, full in my view, the 
 revolting sight of the young man in his coffin. My religious 
 convictions and my nervous disorder were inseparable. Together 
 they formed an intolerable burden. All nature was veiled in 
 gloom, and my existence was a weariness. Prayer seemed to add 
 to my distress, and my nervous excitement made my prayers a 
 confusion and a mockery. I deliberately came to the conclusion 
 that, to get rid of my nervous trouble, I must suppress my re- 
 ligious convictions, and, for the present, at any rate, abandon all 
 hope of salvation. Fresh air, exercise, society and amusements 
 soon restored me to health, and my restoration to a sound ner- 
 vous condition found me free from all religious concern, and as 
 frivolous, worldly and far from God as I had ever been. If I 
 could reach the kingdom of heaven only by the dismal road that 
 Thad been traveling, I had no wish to make the journey. Here 
 ends the second chapter in my religious experience, if religious 
 experience it may be called. 
 
 In another article I have given a pretty full account of the 
 commencement of the great revival at Hatcher's meeting-house 
 in August, 1821. The event was to me fraught with momentous 
 consequences. I was slightly advanced in the twentieth year of 
 my age, and as volatile and as full of delusive hopes as any strip- 
 ling in the community. On a Saturday afternoon, at the house 
 of a neighbor, I became acquainted with Daniel Witt, a few 
 months my senior, but in appearance much my junior. A slight 
 intercourse satisfied us that our views, tastes and aims were con- 
 genial, and gave birth to a friendship and intimacy which, till 
 the time of his death— a period of fifty years — knew no abatement 
 and scarcely admitted of any increase. Sunday morning we rode 
 together to church. In all my life I had never been more vola- 
 tile or more set on amusement and mischief. I need not repeat 
 the account of the meeting, elsewhere given. Witt and myself 
 sat together. Both became impressed about the same time, and, 
 apparently, in the same degree, by such preaching as we had 
 often heard without concern. A solemn, deep and pervasive 
 
76 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 feeling was produced in the large assembly. The services were 
 continued till late in the afternoon. When I raised my head 
 and opened my eyes, I was astonished to find that all the congre- 
 gation, excepting a few of my friends, were gone. Even my new 
 companion, Witt, having a dozen miles to travel to his home, 
 had left an hour or two before. 
 
 My purpose to become a Christian was now fixed. From my 
 very childhood, I had been ambitious to excel. With me it was 
 a settled aim never to follow, if I could lead. My natural tem- 
 perament had its share in shaping my resolution to become a 
 Christian. It was not merely my purpose to enter into the king- 
 dom of heaven, but to outstrip all my associates in the celestial 
 race. I engaged in the execution of my purpose in a thoroughly 
 earnest and a thoroughly self-sufficient spirit. My subsequent 
 course was in full harmony with my resolution. I forsook all 
 known sins, did not indulge myself in a smile, withdrew from all 
 society except religious, thought of nothing but my salvation and 
 mingled prayer with almost every waking breath. My aim was 
 to become good enough for Christ to receive me. 
 
 My experience antedates the commencement of protracted 
 meetings ; but, in seasons of revival, meetings — especially night- 
 meetings, at private houses — were greatly increased in number. 
 I attended all those within my reach, if my engagements w T ould 
 permit. A short time after the memorable meeting at Hatcher's 
 meeting-house there was an appointment for a night service in 
 the neighborhood of my abode. There was a crowded house. 
 Of the sermon I recollect nothing. At the close of it the minis- 
 ter said : " If any one present desires prayer, let him manifest it, 
 and I will pray for him." It was the first time I had ever heard 
 such a proposal made. Had he requested those who desired 
 prayer to rise, kneel or occupy a particular seat, I should have 
 had no difficulty in complying with the request, for I did most 
 fervently desire that prayer should be offered for me, and I was 
 not ashamed to acknowledge it. The preacher, however, asked 
 that any one wishing prayer should manifest his wish. I could 
 think of but one way of manifesting it, and that was by publicly 
 requesting him to pray for me. It was a fearful task. I was un- 
 used to speaking in public, and was in the presence of my com- 
 
HIS CONVERSION. 77 
 
 panions, among whom I had been a leader in amusements and in 
 mischief; how could I ask for prayer? It was an urgent case. 
 My soul was in peril. In all my life I have never had a greater 
 conflict between a sense of duty and a feeling of timidity. The 
 struggle was short. In a few moments I said distinctly : " Pray 
 for me ! " I have said many things since which I have had cause 
 to regret, but I have never been sorry that I made that request. 
 The minister, after a slight delay, said : " Is there only one sinner 
 in the congregation who desires prayer ? " Instantly, and as by a 
 common impulse, the assembly rushed around the spot where I 
 was sitting, fell on their knees, and broke forth into sobs and 
 lamentations. 
 
 At once I was assailed by a most painful temptation. I had 
 alone gone through the fierce conflict of asking for prayer, and 
 now its benefits were to be divided between so many that I should 
 derive but small advantage from it. I was sadly out of humor. 
 My heart, that had been tender, instantly became hard and re- 
 sentful. My tears, that had flowed copiously, were arrested, and 
 I was utterly unfitted for the solemn service in which I was en- 
 gaged. I left the house with far less hope of salvation than I had 
 when I entered it. 
 
 A few weeks later another night-meeting was appointed at the 
 same place. I resolved, if possible, to be ready for conversion by 
 that time. In view of the period that I had been seeking deliv- 
 erance from my sins, the many prayers I had offered, the many 
 tears I had shed, and my undeviating diligence in efforts to se- 
 cure my salvation, I concluded that the hour of my conversion 
 must be near. I attended the meeting with high hope, almost 
 confident that I should find relief, but I was doomed to a sore 
 disappointment. The meeting was crowded, and the religious ex- 
 citement was intense. Among the inquirers was a rough, uncouth 
 and ignorant lad named Bill Carter. Occupying a prominent 
 position, he opened wide his mouth and roared like a lion. The 
 scene was indescribably ludicrous, and, in spite of the solemnity 
 of the occasion, and my deep concern for my salvation, I burst into 
 an uncontrollable fit of laughter. I quickly left the room, retired 
 to a private place in the yard, and prostrated myself on the earth, 
 fearing that I had committed the unpardonable sin. I meditated 
 
78 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 on my lost condition and rny unaccountable levity, and my solemn 
 feelings returned. I confessed my sin, prayed, wept and resolved 
 to be more watchful against levity. As I was beginning to think 
 my condition more hopeful, the image of Bill Carter, with his 
 mouth spread and his cries deafening the congregation, rose be- 
 fore my mind, and the ludicrous scene again upset my gravity, 
 and I laughed long and convulsively. I left the meeting, at 
 which I had hoped to be converted, with an alarming apprehen- 
 sion that my day of grace had passed. 
 
 I was becoming acquainted with my own heart and my guilt 
 before God. In the beginning of my religious exercises my heart 
 was quite tender. I felt deeply, and wept frequently and profuse- 
 ly. Soon, however, my heart seemed to grow as cold as ice and 
 as hard as flint. Nothing was capable of moving it. I desired 
 to weep, because I confounded weeping and repentance. To move 
 my heart and draw forth my tears, I meditated on the purity, 
 majesty and goodness of God, the evil of sin, the solemnity of 
 death, the terribleness of a future judgment, the joys of heaven, 
 the woes of perdition and the sufferings of the Son of God, but 
 none of these things moved me. Nor was this all. I found in 
 my heart evils of whose existence I had not dreamed. I discov- 
 ered truly that it was deceitful above all things. Deceit mingled 
 with my confessions of sin, my prayers and my tears. I could 
 not get rid of it. It haunted me like a ghost. I seemed to be 
 aiming to deceive, not only my fellow-men, but God. I drew 
 nigh to him with my mouth, and honored him with my lips, while 
 my heart was far from him. I offered him sacrifices which I 
 knew he would not and could not receive. 
 
 Nor was this the worst. In spite of all my efforts to prevent 
 it, the most corrupt and blasphemous thoughts would nestle in 
 my bosom. They were such as I had no recollection of having 
 had before, such as I dared not to reveal to my most intimate 
 friend, and such as could find a lodgment only in a depraved 
 heart. These evil thoughts, sad to say, haunted me most when 
 I attempted to pray, or to read and study the word of God. The 
 proofs of my depravity cured me of my self-righteousness. I 
 despaired of salvation by my own works. Indeed, after weeks of 
 anxiety, watchfulness, prayer and mourning, I seemed to be much 
 
HIS CONVERSION. 79 
 
 farther from salvation than I was at the first. All hope of mak- 
 ing myself worthy for Christ to receive me died within me. 
 
 About this time, hearing of the conversion of a young female 
 friend, who was awakened some weeks after I was, it seemed a 
 reasonable conclusion that I had missed the road to heaven. The 
 farther I traveled the more gloomy seemed to be the prospect of 
 reaching the end of my journey. My ambitious purpose of out- 
 stripping my companions in the celestial race was not only aban- 
 doned, but remembered with shame. Whoever would might 
 enter into the kingdom ; if I could only be the least and the last 
 to enter it, I should enjoy a privilege infinitely beyond my merit, 
 and have cause for unspeakable and everlasting gratitude. 
 
 About two months after the memorable meeting at Hatcher's 
 meeting-house I attended a night meeting in a private house 
 near the same place. My recollections of the meeting are lim- 
 ited entirely to my own exercises. A song was sung, which I do 
 not remember to have heard before or since. It was poor poetry, 
 and, no doubt, poorly sung ; but it made an indelible impression 
 on my mind. I can remember but a part of a single stanza. 
 
 It is this : 
 
 " Come, all you tender-hearted Christians, 
 Oh, come and help me for to mourn ; 
 To see the Son of God a bleeding, 
 And his precious body torn." 
 
 The words arrested my attention, and turned my mind into a 
 new train of thought. Is it possible, I inquired, that the Son of 
 God suffered and died for such a corrupt and guilty creature as 
 I am ? The grace appeared too great. I was utterly undeserv- 
 ing such favor. It seemed a pity that so great a sinner as I 
 should be the recipient of so rich a blessing. While I meditated 
 on the subject, my heart, long cold and insensible, was dissolved 
 in unfeigned sorrow — sorrow that I had sinned against Christ, 
 so great, so good and so condescending ; and my eyes, for weeks 
 unused to weeping, became a fountain of tears. I had no fur- 
 ther controversy with God. He was infinitely wise, pure and 
 kind, and worthy of my supreme confidence, reverence and love. 
 His law was holy, just and good, and should be obeyed by every 
 intelligent creature. Sin was a wrong, a folly and a mischief, 
 calling for sorrow and reformation. 
 
80 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 One point was settled, so far as aught could be settled by a 
 creature like myself. I would sin no more, if watchfulness, 
 prayer and an earnest purpose could preserve me from sinning. 
 Whether I should be saved was doubtful ; but if my fearful 
 doom were sealed, I would endeavor not to aggravate it by mul- 
 tiplying my transgressions and augmenting my guilt. If I 
 should be saved, through God's infinite mercy, of all the race 
 that fell, or all the heavenly host, I should have the greatest 
 cause for gratitude and praise. I left the meeting in a very 
 different state of mind from that in which I entered it. I did 
 not suppose that I was converted — I feared that I should never 
 be — but there was sweetness in my tears, and my sorrows were 
 soothing and led me to suppose that my condition was not abso- 
 lutely hopeless. 
 
 Two or three days after this time I attended a night meeting 
 fifteen or twenty miles from my home, at the foot of the southern 
 slope of the Blue Ridge, near the point at which it is now crossed 
 by the Virginia and Tennessee Railroad. Of this meeting, as 
 of the preceding, I remember nothing but what occurred in my 
 own breast. The preaching, the praying and the singing were 
 all, doubtless, good ; but my thoughts were concentrated on my 
 own unfortunate condition. As instructed by one of my relig- 
 ious guides, the Rev. William Leftwich, I had often attempted 
 to adopt the words of the father of the demoniac child : " Lord, 
 I believe ; help thou my unbelief." I dared not utter the words. 
 I feared that it would be hypocrisy, and augment my guilt, if I 
 should repeat them. I would hardly speak extravagantly if I 
 should say that I made a thousand unsuccessful attempts to utter 
 them. The sentence invariably changed in my lips to, " Lord, I 
 would believe; help thou my unbelief." On this night, in the 
 midst of the religious services, but entirely independent of them, 
 it seemed to me that I could heartily adopt the language of the 
 afflicted father. Mentally, I called over the words : " Lord, I 
 believe," etc. Instantly my conscience smote me. I feared that 
 I did not believe, and my words were deceitful. If that were 
 believing, there had been no need for the long and painful con- 
 flict through which I had passed. I might as well and as easily 
 have believed at first. This certainly was not the kind of faith 
 
HIS CONVERSION. 81 
 
 which I had been expecting and endeavoring to exercise. After 
 all my doubts and reasoning, the impression came over me that 
 I did believe, and I repeated the words with emphasis : " Lord, 
 I do believe; help thou my unbelief." The burden of guilt and 
 anxiety, which I had borne so long, instantly departed. My 
 mind was in a calm, pleasing frame, which to me was inexplica- 
 ble, and which I was not careful to analyze. 
 
 For several months my sleep had been disturbed and uncom- 
 fortable; but that night I slept as if I had been in paradise. 
 No wave of trouble rolled across my peaceful breast. In the 
 morning I arose early, greatly refreshed, and walked out to enjoy 
 the balmy air and gaze on the surrounding scenery. The sun 
 rose in cloudless splendor. Never before had he seemed so bright 
 and beautiful. He was radiant with the uncreated glories of his 
 Maker. His rising beams, caught first by the mountain-tops, 
 gradually descended into the valleys, clothing the autumnal for- 
 ests with a golden hue. The scenery was naturally lovely and 
 sublime ; but such mountains, valleys and forests I had never 
 seen before. All nature seemed to proclaim the wisdom, power 
 and goodness of God. The mountains and the hills, the brooks 
 and the vales, broke forth in songs of praise to their Creator ; 
 and all the trees of the forests clapped their hands for joy. Be- 
 fore I was aware I had joined the rapturous anthem. My heart 
 was overflowing with gratitude, love and joy, and longed to give 
 utterance to its emotions. My conscience told me that I was a 
 poor, guilty, condemned sinner, and had no right to praise God ; 
 but my feelings triumphed over its remonstrances. Whatever 
 might be my doom, I resolved to praise him for past mercies, and 
 that I was not then in perdition, whither I had so long deserved 
 to be sent. 
 
 I strolled to a retired spot, at the head of a ravine, where I 
 might engage in secret prayer. I had unanticipated freedom in 
 the exercise. Till that hour I had never offered a petition for 
 any being but myself. That morning I prayed for my parents, 
 my brother and sisters, my remoter kindred, my friends, and I 
 continued to extend the circle of my intercession until it com- 
 prehended the whole world. My prayer was a mystery to me. 
 I had intended to pray, as I had ever before done, simply for 
 
 6 
 
82 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 myself; but my feelings had borne me quite beyond tbe limit 
 prescribed by my judgment. 
 
 As I was returning to the house, where I had been hospitably 
 entertained, no little perplexed about my new, strange and in- 
 explicable emotions, I met Elder Harris, my venerable religious 
 instructor, who was staying with me in the same family. He 
 kindly inquired after my religious condition. I told him, as well 
 as I could, the exercises of my mind, as stated above. " You 
 are converted," said he. This was a revelation to me. I had 
 not even suspected that I was converted. I had hoped that my 
 exercises were favorable and might lead on to conversion ; but 
 I had not experienced such a conversion as I had heard de- 
 scribed, or as I had been seeking. I had heard no voice, seen 
 no light, felt no shock and had no strange manifestation. I was 
 willing, aye, and resolved, to forsake my sins and serve Christ ; 
 but conversion must be something more wonderful than this. 
 Elder Harris commenced and related to me his experience. It 
 bore a striking resemblance to my own. Of the genuineness of 
 his conversion I had no doubt. As my exercises bore a strong 
 likeness to his, I could but cherish the hope that I might be a 
 subject of renewing grace. The chief difficulty I found in ac- 
 cepting this conclusion was in my utter unworthiness of a bless- 
 ing so glorious. I cannot better express my bewilderment than 
 in the language of one of Watts' excellent hymns : 
 
 " When God revealed his gracious name, 
 And changed my mournful state, 
 My rapture seemed a pleasing dream, 
 The grace appeared so great." 
 
 In the uncertainty of my condition, I resolved to conceal from 
 my friends the dim and questionable hope which I had found ; 
 but the resolution was not easily carried into effect. For months 
 my face had been covered with a cloud, which no smile, except 
 in some unguarded moment, had been permitted to brighten. 
 To preserve the gloom of my countenance was impossible. The 
 gratitude, hope and joy of my heart broke out in smiles and 
 tears as I met the pious friends who had so long sympathized 
 with me and prayed for me. I did not need to tell them that 
 
HIS CONVERSION. 83 
 
 my burden had been removed, and that the dark night of con- 
 viction had been succeeded by the cheering dawn of hope. The 
 tearful eye and the warm grasp of the hand told the story more 
 eloquently than words could have done. 
 
 More than half a century has passed since I had the expe- 
 rience that I have imperfectly related, and the reader may de- 
 sire to know my estimate of it after the studies, observations and 
 trials of a long life, and I will cheerfully gratify the desire. 
 Much of my experience was circumstantial and not essential ; 
 some things which then seemed important I have learned are of 
 little value, and some things appear now to be of greater conse- 
 quence than they did then ; but in its chief elements, I deem it 
 to be sound and evangelical. At any rate, I would not exchange 
 it, with the influence it has had on me, and through me on 
 others, for all the wealth and all the honors of the world. Con- 
 viction of sin, godly sorrow, reformation, despair of salvation by 
 works, trust in Christ, love to him, joy in the Holy Ghost ; in 
 short, an experience which comprehends the struggles of a soul 
 in passing from death unto life — are indispensable to the exist- 
 ence of genuine piety, and a reasonable hope of eternal life 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 PUTTING ON THE AEMOE. 
 
 DR. JETER'S account of his entrance into the 
 ministry, which will appear in this chapter, is 
 so full and satisfactory that I am happily re- 
 lieved from the duty of adding much to the story. 
 He was baptized in the North Fork of Otter, the 
 first Sunday in December, 1821. The scene of the 
 baptism is located at the point where that stream is 
 crossed by the public road leading from Mt. Hermon 
 Church to the little village of Otterville. It is a sin- 
 gularly beautiful spot. The mountain creek at that 
 point is about twenty feet in width and flows through 
 a narrow valley with lofty hills on either side. It 
 is well-nigh hidden from public view by the alders, 
 willows and poplars which fringe it on either side. 
 There is a large rock which juts into the current and 
 so blocks the tide as to make a sufficient depth for 
 baptismal purposes. More than once I have stood, 
 on the calm Sabbath morning, upon that rock and 
 witnessed baptisms. The old pastor, William Har- 
 ris, would read the Scriptures, oifer a brief prayer, 
 and then, with cane in hand, feel his way along the 
 rocky bed of the stream until he found a sufficient 
 depth and then signal for the candidates to follow. 
 The sympathetic and tearful group on the shore 
 84 
 
PUTTING ON THE ARMOR. 85 
 
 would sing : " We are going to join in the army of 
 the Lord." One by one the happy converts would 
 be buried with Christ in baptism and then emerge 
 from the waters with radiant countenances and 
 sometimes with exultant shouts. There, on a winter's 
 day, young Jeter was baptized. It was to him a 
 great event — the crisis of his career, and he always 
 recalled it with profound emotion. Indeed, he 
 seemed averse to relating the story of his conversion, 
 except when his soul was aglow with unwonted 
 spiritual fire, and he told it then in the hope of help- 
 ing others who were inquiring the way. 
 
 I have mentioned that he was baptized by Elder Har- 
 ris, and for that old servant of God he always cherished 
 the most grateful affection. It was impossible to 
 know " Father Harris," as the Bedford people called 
 him, without revering and loving him. What a 
 noble type of Christian manhood ! In form he was 
 lofty, round and erect. His eye, blue as the sky, 
 seemed always enkindled with a gentle and tender 
 love. His hair, soft as the fleece and white as the 
 snow, touched his shoulders. His voice was the 
 music of the harp, and when it floated out, freighted 
 with the heavenly message, not even hearts of stone 
 could withstand it. In his movements, grace and 
 dignity seemed to blend. His dress was faultless — 
 his suit of black, his white cravat and his spreading 
 collar. From beneath the flap of his coat-pocket, al- 
 ways peered his pipe-stem, except when in his mouth, 
 and positively it was a benediction to note the gentle, 
 restful way with which, after his sermon, the old man, 
 with the aid of spunk and flint, would light his clay 
 
86 LIFE OF" JEREMfAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 pipe, and stroll quietly out into the forest. In genius 
 and culture he was not an equal of Jeter, but in 
 purity, meekness, and heavenly wisdom, he was the 
 peer of any. His meat and drink was " to do the 
 will of God." He had no ambition except to glorify 
 Christ, and no resentments except against the ene- 
 mies of his Lord. Dr. Jeter sometimes said, in 
 pleasantry, that Elder Harris called him to the min- 
 istry, and, indeed, he mentions it in his " Recollec- 
 tions " as a matter of history. This does not mean 
 that Dr. Jeter did not believe in the divine element 
 in the ministerial call, but simply that " Father Har- 
 ris " discovered in him the preaching gift, even be- 
 fore he was made conscious of his duty. This faculty 
 or grace which the old man possessed, by which he 
 was enabled to discover the adaptations of young 
 men, and to interpret to them their own convictions, 
 was one of his most striking characteristics. He 
 seemed to possess an intuitive power for finding those 
 whom the Lord had chosen for himself. He would 
 lay his hand upon the heads of little children, and 
 with a sort of prophetic authority mark them for the 
 ministry. Perhaps it would have been proper for 
 me, when in a former chapter I was seeking to ac- 
 count for the fact that so many Bedford young men 
 entered the ministry, to have said that it was be- 
 cause " Father Harris " lived there. I was often 
 with him and knew him well, and yet I never heard 
 him speak of the fact that he had baptized so many 
 of the preachers. He baptized Witt and Jeter, and 
 although they were in the zenith of their fame when 
 I was most intimate with him, he never alluded to 
 
PUTTING ON THE ARMOR. 87 
 
 the fact that he was so closely connected with their 
 early religious lives. He loved and admired them, 
 but seemed to be thoroughly unconscious of having 
 had anything to do with their character or usefulness. 
 
 It may seem surprising that young Jeter began to 
 preach so soon after his conversion, and also that so 
 ignorant a boy should have so soon become an ef- 
 fective preacher. Let it be remembered that from 
 his childhood he was singularly thoughtful and a con- 
 stant reader of the Bible. My uncle, who was the 
 companion of his youth, related to me an incident 
 which finely illustrates at once this young man's 
 eagerness to excel and his passion for reading. 
 
 When he was a mere stripling he went one day to 
 assist in a wheat harvest. He brought his cradle 
 with him and took his place with the reapers. When 
 everything was in readiness to begin work, this 
 audacious youngster leaped to the front and took the 
 lead in the race of the harvesters. The old cradlers 
 sneered at his presumption and predicted that their 
 young rival would soon lose his place. They knew 
 not the spirit which reigned within him. He was 
 born for leadership, and it was not possible for him 
 to surrender while there was life. All through the 
 morning, beneath the glare of a summer's sun, the 
 contest went on, and the sweating racers bent to 
 their work. Far out to the front steadily swept on 
 this boy, at the head of the line, never yielding his 
 place till the sun touched the zenith and the horn 
 blew the signal for dinner. Then throwing down 
 his cradle, and springing high in the air, he shouted 
 in wild, boyish glee, over his victory. When they 
 
88 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 returned to the house for dinner and the harvesters 
 stretched themselves on the grass for rest and talk, 
 young Jeter was gone. When discovered, he was 
 alone, deeply absorbed in reading the Bible. This 
 was before his conversion, and it is more than likely 
 that he was reading the Bible, not so much because 
 he preferred it, but because it was the only book in 
 his reach. The Bible was one of his text-books at 
 school, and so it came to pass, that when at twenty, he 
 was converted, he possessed considerable acquaintance 
 with the histories and doctrines of that holy book. 
 
 Another fact must be taken into account. He 
 possessed an ardent and fearless spirit. He felt 
 strongly, and what he felt he was not afraid to speak. 
 His conversion was thorough, decided and joyful. 
 His soul was on fire with the love of Christ, and he 
 felt a boundless desire to honor him. He loved his 
 kindred and neighbors, and as soon as he found the 
 heavenly way, the impulse to bring them also, over- 
 mastered him. It was on a December day that he 
 was baptized in the chill waters of the Little Otter ; 
 but he tells us, that as he emerged from the water 
 he sprang to the shore and delivered his first sermon. 
 The old people said that he shouted, by which I sup- 
 pose they meant simply that he broke out in exult- 
 ant praise of his Redeemer, and as according to the 
 custom of the times, he shook hands with the spec- 
 tators on the bank, he commended to them his 
 newly-found Saviour. For such a boy, so intense in 
 his nature, so ravished with the love of God, and so 
 full of hope and joy, it was an easy thing to tell the 
 gospel story. 
 
PUTTING ON THE ARMOR. 89 
 
 He conferred not with flesh and blood ; he was 
 unabashed by a sense of ignorance or awkwardness ; 
 he waited not for mental discipline or theological 
 training, but went forth proclaiming the good news, 
 and before he knew it, was a preacher. By almost a 
 single bound he rose from the plow to the pulpit. 
 That sweet seraphic light which glowed upon his 
 boyish face never went out, but shone with softened 
 beauty, even when he lay dead in his coffin. That 
 shout which broke from his lips at his baptism, and 
 rolled along the mountain vale, instead of dying, 
 deepened into an anthem of thanksgiving and joy, 
 which sounded through all his life. That tearful ex- 
 hortation which he spoke to his rustic neighbors on 
 the icy edge of the river was the first blast of a 
 trumpet whose solemn notes were heard for sixty 
 years, and on two continents, and whose echoes will 
 be slow to die. 
 
 Here is the account of his entrance into the min- 
 istry : 
 
 MY ENTRANCE INTO THE MINISTRY. 
 
 I do not remember when I first began to preach. In my boy- 
 hood I was accustomed to repeat, at the handle of my plow, the 
 sermon on Monday, with all its intonations, which I had heard on 
 Sunday. This I did, not from any special fondness for preach- 
 ing, or any expectation that I should become a preacher, but 
 merely because it was the most pleasant intellectual exercise 
 within my reach. Having access to few books suited to interest 
 and improve my mind, I was glad to repeat, as an amusement, 
 such sermons as I heard. 
 
 Having made a profession of faith in Christ, I had no hesi- 
 tancy in deciding on the manner of my baptism. When I was a 
 small boy, I learned that there was a controversy between Bap- 
 tists and Pedobaptists concerning the mode of its administration. 
 
90 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 Just as I was learning to read in the New Testament, I came to 
 the account of the baptism of the Ethiopian treasurer, in the Acts 
 of the Apostles. I read it with amazement. In my simplicity I 
 supposed that it had never been discovered by the disputants on 
 baptism. This passage, I thought, must surely end the contro- 
 versy. I ran to my mother in great excitement, saying : " Ma, 
 the Baptists are right. I have found a place which shows that 
 they are right." From that day to this I have never doubted 
 that immersion was the primitive baptism. On the first Lord's 
 day of December, 1821, I-was baptized by Elder William Harris 
 in the North Fork of Otter River, near the place of my abode. 
 My first religious address was delivered on the bank of the stream, 
 immediately on my emerging from it. It was impulsive, unpre- 
 meditated and without method, but it was earnest, and impressed 
 by its novelty, if nothing else, my neighbors and companions. Had 
 I been wiser, it had probably not been delivered ; but, timely or 
 untimely, it was the beginning of my ministry 
 
 During the winter I was several times invited to speak in 
 prayer-meetings and at the close of sermons, and I performed the 
 service without embarrassment and seemingly to the acceptance 
 of my hearers. 
 
 I was called more formally to the ministry by my venerated 
 pastor, on the night of the 15th of January, 1822. A meeting 
 had been appointed at a Mr. Lockett's, in the gorge between the 
 Flat Top and Suck Mountains. The congregation attending was 
 small, and composed of plain, uncritical mountaineers. I had no 
 more expectation of preaching than of a visit to the moon, when 
 my excellent father in the gospel said to me : " You must preach 
 to-night." I hesitated, but he insisted, and I, having boundless 
 confidence in his piety and wisdom, consented to perform the ser- 
 vice. After an experience in the ministry of more than half a 
 century, I should be very reluctant now to preach without more 
 time for preparation ; but in fifteen minutes after I was called to 
 the ministry I entered on its duties. I selected for my text 2 
 Cor. vi. 2: "Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is 
 the day of salvation." My sermon was about thirty minutes 
 long, delivered with composure, without much feeling, and cer- 
 tainly with little method or force. I was neither elated nor de- 
 
PUTTING ON THE ARMOR. 91 
 
 pressed by it. It seemed to be such an effort as might reasonably 
 be expected from one so illiterate and inexperienced as I was. 
 
 The next day a meeting was to be held at Mr. Palmer's, a few 
 miles from the place of my first sermon, and in a more populous 
 neighborhood. My revered bishop ordered that I should preach 
 again, which I was not loth to do. The morning I spent in 
 earnest preparation for the service. I read the Scriptures, prayed, 
 studied and came to the work with a profound sense of my weak- 
 ness and unworthiness. On reaching the place of preaching I 
 found a large congregation, composed chiefly of my acquaint- 
 ances and friends, and among them my mother, not then a pro- 
 fessor of religion. I was appalled at the prospect of preaching 
 before such an audience, but I had proceeded too far to retrace 
 my steps. I took for my text 2 Cor. viii. 9 : " For ye know the 
 grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that, though he was rich, yet for 
 your sakes he became poor, that ye through his poverty might be 
 rich." No doubt I have preached many a sermon more method- 
 ical, more lucid in style, more original in thought and less faulty 
 in taste, but I seriously question whether I have ever delivered 
 one better suited to interest, impress and profit a plain audience. 
 It was heard with unwavering attention and many tears. 
 
 The sermon was to me the occasion of a great temptation and 
 a mortifying failure. Some of my indiscreet friends spoke to me 
 in terms of high praise of it. They might well have spared them- 
 selves the trouble. My own heart assured me that I had preached 
 a wonderful discourse. On this assumption I reasoned, as I 
 judged, most logically. If from my first to my second discourse 
 I had made such surprising progress, to what rapturous heights I 
 must soar in my third sermon. That night there was to be a 
 meeting at the house of the pastor, near Liberty, where I was 
 particularly anxious to acquit myself creditably. It was decided 
 that I should preach again, but, having succeeded so well in the 
 morning I dismissed all care on the subject, supposing that I 
 would only have to stand up and open my mouth, and thoughts 
 and words, pertinent to the occasion, would flow freely. 
 
 The congregation was full, and it was arranged to have two 
 sermons. The first was preached by Rev. P. P. Smith, of Buck- 
 ingham County, a nephew of Elder Harris. I was to follow. My 
 
92 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 text was Psalm cxlvi. 8 : " The Lord openeth the eyes of the 
 blind : the Lord raiseth them that are bowed down : the Lord 
 loveth the righteous." I stood, but my eyes were not opened. I 
 opened my mouth, but words did not flow. I made a desperate 
 effort to speak, and continued to babble six or eight minutes, and 
 then took my seat in utter confusion and deep mortification. I 
 would gladly have sunk beneath the floor, or concealed myself in 
 an auger hole, had it been possible, but there I sat exposed to the 
 view of all the congregation, none of whom could have had a 
 stronger conviction of my stupidity than I had myself. My 
 ministry, as I supposed, had come to an early and inglorious end. 
 I had become a wiser, if not a better man. From that hour to 
 this I have never dreamed that religious knowledge is gained in 
 arithmetical progression. 
 
 The next day I was again persuaded to try my gift at preach- 
 ing in another neighborhood. I acceded to the request the more 
 readily to redeem myself from the disgrace incurred by the fail- 
 ure of the preceding night. I was cured, at least for a time, of 
 my self-confidence, and entered on the service with painful anxiety 
 and trembling in every joint. My success was such as to soothe 
 my shame for the past failure, and inspire me with hope for the 
 future. 
 
 I continued to preach from time to time, as opportunities 
 offered, sometimes with freedom and pleasure, and not unfrequently 
 with confusion and shame. I glided into the ministry, without 
 carefully inquiring whether I had been divinely called to it. 
 After some months my mind became quite anxious on the subject. 
 I feared that I had run before I was called. My call, if call I 
 had, seemed to differ widely from that of many of the old preach- 
 ers. They represented, or seemed to represent, that they had 
 been constrained to enter the ministry sorely against their wills. 
 The words of the apostle were often on their lips : " Necessity is 
 laid upon me ; yea, woe is unto me, if I preach not the gospel ! " 
 Unfortunately for me, as I supposed, I had a wish to preach the 
 gospel. Of all employments, preaching seemed to me to be the 
 most desirable and the most honorable. I preferred being a 
 preacher, poor, despised and persecuted, to being a king or an 
 emperor. I might have found in the context of the oft-quoted 
 
PUTTING ON THE ARMOR. 93 
 
 Scripture a corrective of my error. The apostle adds to the 
 threatened woe of failing to preach the gospel the promised re- 
 ward of preaching it cheerfully : " If I do this thing (preach the 
 gospel) willingly I have a reward." Neglecting to examine the 
 passage in its connection, I missed the instruction which it con- 
 tained. It was several years before my mind was entirely relieved 
 of its doubts and anxieties by the words of Paul : " If any man 
 desire the office of a bishop, he desireth a good work." If a de- 
 sire for the episcopal office was a qualification for it, I certainly 
 had that. I dared not affirm that my desire was free from selfish 
 and worldly considerations, but of its sincerity and earnestness, 
 and that it originated in Scriptural views of the duties and design 
 of the office, I had no question. From the hour that I discerned 
 the bearing of that text on the subject, I have had no more doubt 
 of my call to the ministry than I have had of the genuineness of 
 my piety. 
 
 It is well known that Dr. Jeter wrote his " Recol- 
 lections" at the earnest solicitation of others. He 
 undertook the task with serious misgivings. He said 
 that old age was notoriously garrulous and egotistic, 
 and he was anxious to save himself from such a 
 temptation. As he really never grew old in spirit, 
 retaining, in a wonderful degree, the spring and ar- 
 dor of his nature even to the last, he never betrayed 
 any excessive fondness for talking of himself. Be- 
 sides, he lived in such thorough sympathy with the 
 present, that he was not specially given to the habit 
 of recalling the incidents of the past. I think that 
 he was needlessly cautious and sensitive about his 
 personal recollections, and when he speaks of himself 
 it is always in terms so mild and diffident that he 
 hardly does justice to the facts. We have an illustra- 
 tion in his reference to his second sermon, — that 
 preached at the residence of Mr. Palmer. It is true 
 
94 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 that he alludes to it in terms which sufficiently indi- 
 cate that he thought quite well of his performance. 
 Father Harris told me that the sermon produced a 
 phenomenal impression. Its effect defied all descrip- 
 tion. It thrilled the audience into the wildest ex- 
 citement, and those simple-hearted mountaineers 
 instantly sprang to the conclusion that there never 
 had been so great a preacher as they had discovered 
 in this fiery and impetuous youth. 
 
 He also was carried away with his success. His 
 elation knew no bounds, and he did not attempt to 
 conceal his satisfaction. His carnal ambition took 
 possession of him and he fancied that all he had to 
 do was to stand up and his sermon would leap spon- 
 taneously to his lips. His old pastor, who recounted 
 to me the incident, had found it difficult before to 
 induce the young man to exercise his gift in public, 
 but after that delicious experience, he was quite ready 
 to try it again. 
 
 The following night he was to address a more in- 
 telligent audience in the neighborhood of Liberty, 
 and became unduly anxious to make a good impres- 
 sion. He had become the zealous custodian of his 
 sudden fame, and was ambitious to enhance it by the 
 sermon on that occasion. Alas, for the inflated 
 youth ! Satan had blinded him with pride, and he 
 went forth in his own strength. His failure was a 
 tragedy. It was a downfall which he never forgot. 
 He emerged from the disaster, crushed in spirit and 
 covered with shame. It taught him a lesson in hu- 
 mility, which remained with him, and in every sub- 
 sequent temptation pointed him to the source of true 
 strength. 
 
PUTTING ON THE ARMOR. 95 
 
 He began to preach in January, 1822, and as he 
 was appointed a missionary in the summer of 1823, 
 I infer that he is mistaken in saying that he preached 
 for several years without any definite plan. He was 
 never trustworthy in the matter of dates, and I think 
 it is clear that his evangelical rambles with Daniel 
 Witt did not last more than eighteen months. But 
 it was a brisk and busy campaign. They traversed 
 five or six counties, and spoke at many places. They 
 did not hold prolonged meetings, but pushed steadily 
 from point to point, and preached to thousands of 
 people. The paper which follows gives an account 
 of these travels and labors. 
 
 MY EARLY LABORS IN THE MINISTRY. 
 
 As I glided into the ministry without design, so I pursued it 
 for several years without any definite plan. I had no pastorate, 
 no prescribed field of labor, no means of support, no earthly 
 guide, no purpose concerning the future, but to do good as I 
 found opportunity, and was drifted along by the current of 
 events. My young friend, Daniel Witt, commenced preaching 
 in a few weeks after I did. He was a little over, and I was a 
 little under, twenty years old. He had, however, greatly the 
 advantage of me in appearance. He was low, slender, beardless 
 and of boyish appearance; I was tall, slim, gawky and seemingly 
 older than I really was. His educational advantages had been 
 slightly better than mine, and he had been more favored in 
 home opportunities for acquiring religious knowledge than I had 
 been. Possessing a fine memory, an easy elocution and a plain- 
 tive voice, his sermons began at once to attract attention. I can 
 hardly err in saying that, in eighteen months, he became one of 
 the most popular preachers in the State. He was not the most 
 learned, the most profound, the most instructive or the most 
 impressive preacher; but, in view of his youthfulness, fluency 
 and pathos, none attracted larger audiences or were heard with 
 
96 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER. D.D. 
 
 deeper interest. He was unquestionably a more popular preacher 
 than I ; though I may be excused in saying that there were per- 
 sons who judged that, in originality of thought, logical acumen 
 and the power, under favorable circumstances, of moving the pas- 
 sions of an audience, I was his equal, and in this opinion, it is 
 proper to say, he always concurred. There was no rivalry be- 
 tween us. He rejoiced in my success as I rejoiced in his. We 
 were almost constantly together, and of us it might be said as 
 pertinently as of the primitive disciples, that we " had all things 
 common." We had a common stock of knowledge — quite mea- 
 gre — a common sermon, which we diversified with different texts 
 and with fresh arguments and illustrations as we could find 
 them, and a common purse, which was never bloated with sup- 
 plies. Dressed in homespun clothes — the common apparel of 
 the time — with steeds neither fine nor pampered, and saddle-bags 
 containing our entire wardrobe, we commenced our humble 
 labors. 
 
 For several months our preaching was confined to our native 
 county, and chiefly to its southwestern border. By degrees, and 
 as doors of usefulness were opened to us, our labors were extended 
 into the counties of Franklin, Pittsylvania, Kenry, Botetourt, 
 Campbell and Amherst. Everywhere we received a hearty wel- 
 come, were met by large congregations, heard with deep interest 
 and treated with great hospitality and kindness. Several causes 
 contributed to augment our audiences. The revival, which com- 
 menced in Bedford, had spread, gradually but steadily, into the 
 adjoining counties. In many neighborhoods there was a perva- 
 ding interest in the subject of religion. There was a general 
 desire to hear the gospel preached, and any minister of any 
 name could draw a good congregation on any day of the week. 
 The juvenility of Witt and myself added greatly to the attrac- 
 tiveness of our ministry. In every place our fame, if I may use 
 so grand a term to express our notoriety, preceded us, and lost 
 nothing in its progress. It was represented that two Bedford 
 plow-boys had suddenly entered the ministry, and were turning 
 the world upside down. At that time, and in that region, young 
 preachers were a great rarity, and excited almost as much inter- 
 est as a dancing bear, and an interest of the same kind. To all 
 
PUTTING ON THE ARMOR. 97 
 
 these consideration? I may add, as the result of my matured 
 judgment, that the inexperienced lads preached with rather re- 
 markable freedom, force and fervency. Account for it as we 
 may, few houses would hold their congregations, even on week- 
 days, and they were compelled to deliver their message in groves 
 and under arbors, prepared, in some cases, for the purpose. The 
 night meetings were usually held in private houses, which, in, 
 most cases, could not contain the congregations. As a remark- 
 able specimen of these meetings, I furnish an account of it from 
 my Life of Dr. Witt, pp. 101-103: 
 
 " When Witt and myself first went into Franklin County we 
 had an appointment to preach at the house of Mr. Aquila Divers. 
 It was a sparsely-settled neighborhood ; but the news had been 
 widely spread that two boys from Bedford would preach. The 
 facts, as is usual in such cases, had been greatly exaggerated. 
 An intense curiosity to see and hear the juvenile strangers had^ 
 been excited, and the people flocked from all the surrounding 
 region to the meeting There were probably five hundred per- 
 sons in attendance. The house and yard were filled with a> 
 plain, rustic, wide-awake night congregation. Witt preached. 
 He felt deeply the importance and responsibility of the occasion, 
 and laid off his coat and rolled up his sleeves, as one intent on 
 business. This may seem strange to one accustomed to the fas- 
 tidiousness of the present day ; but it was nothing unusual at 
 that time and in that region. I often saw ministers of piety, 
 age, dignity and reputation preaching in hot weather in their 
 shirt-sleeves. I must think that the custom is more rational and 
 defensible than many of the fashions and ceremonies which ac- 
 company the preaching of the word in the present period. Witt 
 removed his coat, not from vanity or affectation, but for comfort 
 and convenience. Its removal meant earnestness and labor. 
 Nor was there any disappointment in the case. I have forgotten 
 the text and the sermon ; but the effect of the service I well re- 
 member. When the discourse was ended there were suppressed 
 weeping and sobbing throughout the audience, in the house and 
 in the yard. It was the commencement of a revival, not like 
 some modern revivals that pass away as the morning dew ; but 
 it spread far and wide, continued for months, and brought hun- 
 
 7 
 
98 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 dreds into the fold of Christ. No doubt but that, to this day, 
 traces of that sermon may be seen in the county of Franklin." 
 
 Our mode of preaching, as was common at that time, was to 
 have a series of appointments, day and night, from place to 
 place, rarely spending more than a day in a neighborhood. We 
 would have two sermons in the day and one at night, ordinarily 
 alternating the service. The one who preached first in the day 
 had usually great advantage over the other. If he had freedom 
 in the service, he reaped our whole theological field, and U ft but 
 meagre gleanings for the other. In time, however, we so in- 
 creased our stock of theological knowledge that the preacher of 
 the second sermon was not much incommoded by the wide range 
 of remarks in the first. Had the present method of conducting 
 protracted meetings been known to us, our usefulness, I judge, 
 might have been greatly increased. 
 
 Of the fruits of our desultory labors it is impossible to make 
 any accurate estimate. Many I knew professed conversion under 
 our ministry. Large additions were made to the churches by the 
 labors of their pastors, in which the religious awakening seemed 
 to be the result of our ministrations. I may overestimate these 
 effects. I give the impressions of my young, ardent, inexperi- 
 enced mind, which the sober judgment of age may not fully cor- 
 rect. Some years ago I visited a place where, in my boyhood, 
 I resided and played. There were the houses, fields, hills, roads 
 and streams which I remembered after long years of absence, but 
 how strangely diminished in size ! A similar change might oc- 
 cur in the seeming importance of the events of my early ministry, 
 were it possible for me to return to them with the judgment 
 which time, observation and experience have given me. 
 
 I must close this bright article with a gloomy tale. Soon after 
 Witt and myself labored in Franklin and the adjoining counties, 
 the strife in the Baptist denomination concerning missions com- 
 menced. The ministers in that region generally took the anti- 
 mission side. Many of them were good men, of narrow views and 
 scanty information. They were apprehensive that missionary ef- 
 forts would take the work of human salvation out of God's hand 
 and transfer all its glory to men, not considering that the same 
 objection, and with equal force, or rather inconclusiveness, might 
 
PUTTING ON THE ARMOR. 99 
 
 be urged against all means employed for the salvation of sinners. 
 Most of the churches in Franklin and Henry Counties withdrew 
 from the Strawberry Association, and organized the Pig River 
 Association, a body most earnestly and successfully devoted to 
 doing nothing. When Witt and myself labored in that region, 
 Baptists were numerous, w 7 ith a cheering prospect before them ; 
 but under the withering influence of anti-mission, antinomian 
 views, their progress has been greatly hindered, if, indeed, their 
 number and efficiency have not been decidedly diminished. 
 
 In the summer of 1860, Dr. Jeter and myself la- 
 bored together for several weeks in a protracted 
 meeting in Liberty, Va. Our home during the time 
 was at Col. Otey's, and Dr. Witt was there also for 
 several days. Thrown together once more in their 
 native county, after many years of absence, they in- 
 dulged very freely in reminiscences. I recall one 
 laughable incident which Dr. Jeter related of their 
 visit to Franklin County, of which he speaks in the 
 foregoing paper. It seems that on a given Sunday 
 morning he preached at the Court-House and Witt 
 had an appointment at some church in the country. 
 Jeter announced in the morning that 'there would be 
 another service at night, and that Brother Witt would 
 preach. Their stock of sermons was very meagre, 
 and such sermons as they had were common property. 
 In the morning the young man who officiated at the 
 Court-House delivered one of their favorite dis- 
 courses, but, for some reason, neglected to tell the 
 other which of the sermons he had used. They sat 
 together in the pulpit until the time for the sermon, 
 and then Witt arose and announced his text. It 
 fell like a peal of thunder upon the ear of young 
 Jeter. It was the text from which he had preached 
 
100 LIFE OF JEPwEMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 in the morning, and he was quite horrified. It oc- 
 curred to him, however, that he ought in some way 
 to indicate the fact, and give his brother an opportu- 
 nity to change his course. Accordingly, he took hold 
 of the skirt of his coat, gave it a gentle jerk, and then 
 instantly dropped his head. Witt paused, turned 
 around and found his co-laborer, apparently in a 
 deeply devotional frame. He did not understand the 
 signal, and proceeded with his sermon, opening with 
 exactly the same sentence with which the morning 
 sermon was begun. He ran smoothly along for a 
 minute or two, until the situation became intolerable 
 to Jeter. He was greatly perplexed, but he felt 
 strongly that Witt must be made aware of his mis- 
 take, and so he nervously grasped his coat again and 
 gave it a sudden and vigorous pull. He thought that 
 would be sufficient, and once more bowed his head 
 and covered his face with his hands. 
 
 Witt was sorely disconcerted. He came to a sud- 
 den halt and turned about for an explanation. He 
 found his disturber with his head meekly bowed, and 
 apparently wrapped in profound meditation. He 
 was puzzled and vexed, and strangely enough, never 
 dreamed of the cause of the interruption. He was 
 greatly flurried, and it was quite a while before he 
 became sufficiently collected to resume his discourse. 
 By degrees, however, he worked upon the old track 
 and began to repeat the sermon which the people had 
 heard that morning. 
 
 Jeter was desperate ; he could stand it no longer. 
 It was painful to interrupt his beloved companion, 
 but he felt that it would never do for both of them 
 
PUTTING ON THE ARMOR. 101 
 
 to preach the same sermon in the same house on the 
 same day. But what could he do ? He dared not 
 speak, and indeed no course was open to him except 
 to repeat the experiment already twice tried. Once 
 more, and quite violently, he jerked Witt's coat, and 
 this time with such force that he brought him to a 
 sudden pause. The young speaker was completely 
 unmanned, and, stung with chagrin and anger, he 
 took his seat. 
 
 In relating the story, Dr. Jeter said that he sup- 
 posed, when he interrupted him, that it would only be 
 necessary to tell him why he did it, in order to satis- 
 fy him. To his surprise, however, he found the 
 young brother quite irritated, and slow to receive his 
 explanation. 
 
 Dr. Jeter related this incident with fine dramatic 
 effect, laughing heartily while he told it, and closing 
 with the remark that he believed it was the only 
 time that Dr. Witt ever really got mad with him. 
 During its recital Witt listened in silence, with a 
 bland smile on his face, and when it was ended, he 
 said, "Yes, I was mad, and I don't believe that I 
 have forgiven you for it yet." 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE YOUNG MISSIONARY. 
 
 BE it said to the praise of the Gospel that friend- 
 ships among ministers are too common to excite 
 any especial attention. It is not strange that 
 men of common faith, educated in the same schools 
 and absorbed in the same work, should become wed- 
 ded in the strongest ties of affection. There are some 
 who are always ready to call attention to the jeal- 
 ousies which mar the relations of Christian ministers. 
 They would do well to note with equal care the warm 
 attachments and mutual intimacies which often bind 
 Christian ministers together. Preachers constitute 
 an exceedingly congenial and affectionate brother- 
 hood. They are sometimes criticised for the jocose 
 and sportive spirit which they manifest in each 
 other's presence. It is not surprising that men so 
 trustful and sympathetic should unbend, when, mo- 
 mentarily released from their cares, they meet for 
 social fellowship. 
 
 The friendship between J. B. Jeter and Daniel 
 Witt has become historic. It began suddenly, con- 
 tinued without interruption for a half-century, and 
 deepened in ardor and strength till they were sun- 
 dered by death. In many respects they were un- 
 like. Witt was slender in form, delicate in health, 
 102 
 
THE YOUNG MISSIONARY. 103 
 
 of a singularly nervous temperament, intensely senti- 
 mental, and remarkably soft and gentle in his man- 
 ners ; Jeter was of towering height, quite slender 
 in form, fearless in his movements, and notoriously 
 ambitious. Witt was poetic, rhetorical and graceful ; 
 Jeter was unfortunate in voice, logical in his methods 
 of thought and unattractive in his delivery. Witt had 
 no great thirst for popularity, and yet in his earlier 
 days was surpassingly popular; Jeter possessed a 
 craving for admiration not easy to restrain, and yet 
 his companion far outstripped him in popular favor. 
 
 The differences between them offered ample oc- 
 casion for envy, jealousy and strife; and yet they 
 were fast friends from the first — a fact which ad- 
 mits of easy explanation. They were natives of 
 the same county, belonged to the same walks of 
 life, entered the Christian life at the same time, re- 
 spected each other thoroughly, and were providen- 
 tially associated in their early ministerial labors. 
 Like kindred drops their spirits blended, and their 
 intimacy never knew the shock of a moment's es- 
 trangement. Their friendship never dwindled into 
 unseemly familiarity, and never exhausted itself in 
 needless professions. They treated each other with 
 unfailing courtesy, and were too generous to strain 
 their attachment by any act of injustice. Each ad- 
 mired the other, and while they avoided mutual flat- 
 teries, they were always outspoken in their praise of 
 each other when in the presence of others. Witt 
 declared that their friendship had not been exceeded 
 in permanence or purity since the days of David and 
 Jonathan ; Jeter said that it was not inferior in its 
 
104 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 strength or tenderness to that of Damon and Pythias. 
 It sometimes happens that friendships naturally ex- 
 pire. There may be no marked alienations and no 
 open outbreaks, but men grow away from each other. 
 Their habits, employments and tastes draw them 
 asunder; and without falling out, they cease to 
 love. This was not so with Jeter and Witt. They 
 grew into each other as long as they lived. Their 
 careers were widely divergent, but their friendship 
 knew no abatement. They were sundered only by 
 the stroke of death, and it is pleasant to believe 
 that even that dread event brought only a brief 
 separation. 
 
 A few years before Witt's death Jeter fell seriously 
 ill, and little hope was entertained of his recovery. 
 The news of his sudden sickness speedily spread, and 
 in my anxiety, I hastened to Richmond to ascertain 
 the facts as to his condition. It chanced that the 
 beloved Witt, who had come down from his home in 
 Prince Edward County to see him, entered the house 
 just as I did. We were conducted to the parlor, and 
 sat together, anxiously awaiting the news from the 
 sick chamber. The tidings which came after a little 
 delay were discouraging enough. The patient was 
 worse, and it seemed that nothing could be done for 
 his relief. Witt was almost heart-broken, and uttered 
 a lamentation so pathetic that, I can never forget it. 
 He said : " Alas, for my brother and my friend ! 
 It has not gone as well with me as I had hoped. I 
 always told him that he must attend my funeral, 
 and now he is about to go before me." 
 
 But to the surprise of all Dr. Jeter recovered, and 
 
THE YOUNG MISSIONARY. 105 
 
 not long after, the cherished wish of Witt that Jeter 
 might attend his funeral was fulfilled. 
 
 As already mentioned, Witt and Jeter preached 
 through the mountain counties for a year and a half 
 after their conversion. They were raw recruits in 
 the King's service, and operated upon an indepen- 
 dent line. They drifted from point to point, and 
 put in their work wherever there seeemed to be a 
 prospect of usefulness. But this free and roaming 
 life was now to end, and they were soon to enter 
 upon more formal service. 
 
 Up to that time the Baptists of Virginia had no 
 general organization. They had their district asso- 
 ciations, which had been organized for mutual coun- 
 sel and help. Some time before they had instituted 
 measures for promoting friendly intercourse and a 
 better understanding among the district meetings. 
 But the missionary spirit had already entered many 
 of the churches. There was a clamor for organization, 
 and after some preliminary steps, a convention was 
 called to consider the propriety of consolidating the 
 Baptist forces of the State. That meeting was held 
 in June, 1823, in the city of Richmond. Among 
 those who attended it were the two boy preachers 
 from Bedford, and as they had never been present be- 
 fore at an important deliberative body, we can ima- 
 gine with what high and throbbing expectancy they 
 set forth upon their journey. Of that meeting, I 
 will here present Dr. Jeter's recollections. It seems 
 remarkable that he was able to recall so few incidents 
 connected with the proceedings of the body. 
 
106 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 THE ORGANIZATION OF THE BAPTIST GENERAL ASSOCIATION 
 OF VIRGINIA. 
 
 This event occurred in the city of Richmond, in the month of 
 June, 1823. At its meeting in the town of Lynchburg, in the 
 previous year, the Baptist General Meeting of Correspondence, 
 organized some years before, merely to keep up a friendly inter- 
 course among the Associations of the State, resolved so to change 
 its constitution as to become a domestic missionary society. Ar- 
 rangements were made to consummate this plan at the place and 
 the time named above. My friend, Daniel Witt, having in the 
 preceding winter visited Richmond, and preached with great 
 acceptance, received a cordial invitation to attend the meeting 
 for the proposed organization. Without difficulty, I was induced 
 to accompany him. In due time, on horseback, equipped in 
 such style as our means would permit, we set out to attend the 
 meeting. We were accompanied and guided by Elder Robert 
 Tisdale, a minister from the lower part of the State, who had 
 spent two or three years among the mountains to regain his 
 health. He was well acquainted with the route over which we 
 were to pass, and with the arts of economical traveling. Of 
 nights we stayed at private houses, and were hospitably enter- 
 tained — a custom then quite common with traveling ministers, 
 and one well suited to our financial condition. Nothing of 
 special moment occurred on our journey ; but I was intensely 
 interested in all that I saw and heard. I had never before been 
 so far from home, and to me everything had a fresh and charm- 
 ing appearance. In my view, the James River was of magnificent 
 size, and the city of Richmond, then about a fourth of its pres- 
 ent dimensions, seemed to me to be of surpassing grandeur. 
 The capitol exceeded all my conceptions of architectural great- 
 ness and beauty. The city made an impression on my youthful 
 imagination more delightful and overpowering than, in my de- 
 clining years, was made by the vastness of London, the beauties 
 of Paris or the wonders of Rome. I and my traveling com- 
 panions put up at a boarding-house on Governor Street, between 
 Main and Franklin, kept by an excellent brother, who treated 
 us very kindly, and at our departure charged us moderate board, 
 with many apologies for charging us at all — apologies justified, 
 doubtless, by his cramped pecuniary circumstances. 
 
THE YOUNG MISSIONARY. 107 
 
 The meeting for organizing the Association was held in the 
 Second Baptist Church — a building, then incomplete, situated on 
 a cross street, between Main and Cary. The congregation, at 
 the opening of the services, was small. The introductory sermon 
 was preached by Rev. R. B. Semple, from Heb. xiii. 16: "But 
 to do good, and to communicate forget not ; for with such sacri- 
 fices God is well pleased." I had heard of the fame of Semple, 
 but was greatly disappointed in his sermon. It was not the kind 
 of preaching that I had been taught to admire. Its want of 
 adaptation to my taste was no proof that it lacked merit. It 
 was, I have no question, a plain, sensible, practical and very ap- 
 propriate discourse. Of the proceedings of the meeting, I have 
 no distinct recollection. After due consideration a constitution 
 was adopted, and the Baptist General Association of Virginia 
 was organized. At that time there was great jealousy in the 
 Associations, and among Baptists generally, of any body that 
 was supposed to be able to encroach on the liberties and preroga- 
 tives of the churches. The fathers, who organized the General 
 Association, were tremblingly alive to this jealousy, and in- 
 tensely anxious to adopt such measures as should disarm all 
 prejudices. In consequence, they placed the Association under 
 such restrictions that it could do little good or evil. Through 
 long years, it was crippled in its efforts to be useful by needless 
 constitutional shackles, which had, one after another, to be cast 
 off, with no little discussion, and not always in a lovely spirit. 
 
 Though my recollections of the proceedings of the meeting 
 are dim, my remembrance of many of the preachers and their 
 sermons is quite vivid. I heard them preach with intense in- 
 terest, and their discourses made an indelible impression on my 
 mind. Luther Rice preached at night, in the Second Baptist 
 Church, from Matt. xvi. 17 : "Blessed art thou, Simon Bar-jona ; 
 for flesh and blood hath not revealed it unto thee, but my Father 
 which is in heaven." The sermon fell far below my expectation, 
 and equally below the reputation and abilities of the speaker. 
 Rev. Edward Baptist preached in the Presbyterian Church in 
 the Valley, known as the " Pine-apple church," on Lord's day 
 afternoon. His text was Hab. iii. 2 : " O Lord, revive thy 
 work." The sermon was chaste in style, beautiful in imagery, 
 
108 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 and graceful in delivery, but was hardly equal to the fame of 
 the orator, and was far less eloquent and impassioned than ser- 
 mons which I afterwards heard from his lips. Rev. O. B. 
 Brown, of Washington, preached on Sunday morning in the 
 First Baptist Church, from Hab. ii. 14 : " For the earth shall be 
 filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord, as the waters 
 cover the sea." It was a missionary discourse, delivered to a 
 crowded audience, and was evidently the sermon of the occasion. 
 Rev. Jas. Fife preached on Monday afternoon, at the close of 
 the business of the meeting, in the First Church, to a pretty full 
 congregation, from Heb. ii. 3 : " How shall we escape, if we 
 neglect so great salvation ? " His sermon was quite pathetic, 
 and produced a deep impression on his hearers, as was evinced by 
 their tears. Witt preached, but, preferring to listen to some 
 strange minister, I did not hear him. His sermon, however, was 
 heard with great pleasure, and its praise was on every tongue. 
 On comparing these sermons, I would say that of Rice was the 
 feeblest, that of Baptist the most beautiful, that of Brown the 
 most profound, that of Fife the most impressive, and that of 
 Witt the most popular. I preached on a week-day night at the 
 Second Baptist Church. The congregation was good, and Semple, 
 Brown and others, distinguished for their knowledge and vener- 
 ableness, concealed themselves in a remote part of the church 
 that I might not be intimidated by their presence. My text was 
 Psalm xxvii. 1 : " The Lord is my light and my salvation ; 
 whom shall I fear?" Semple, who afterwards heard me preach 
 frequently, always said this was as good a sermon as he ever 
 heard me deliver. It was well for me ; for it was more than 
 seven years before I preached in Richmond again without em- 
 barrassment and mortification. 
 
 At this time I first saw several ministers, whom I did not hear 
 preach, but whom I afterwards knew well and prized. Among 
 these I may mention the venerable Philip Montague (Blacky, as 
 he was called, to distinguish him from a cousin of the same 
 name), William Todd, the clerk of the Association, Eli Ball, 
 then just arrived from Massachusetts, and subsequently the 
 General Agent of the body, Addison Lewis, a scholarly man, 
 whom, after the lapse of more than twenty years, I met in Mis- 
 
THE YOUNG MISSIONARY. 109 
 
 souri, and John Bryce, who had been long an associate pastor of 
 the First Church, was then residing in Fredericksburg, and, after 
 many years, ended his days in Kentucky. 
 
 On this visit I became acquainted with Rev. John Courtney, 
 an aged and revered pastor of the First Baptist Church. He 
 was quite superannuated ; and did not attend any of the meet- 
 ings of the Association. He was a tall, raw-boned man, bowed 
 beneath the infirmities of age, and occupying a plain framed 
 house, now standing in the rear of the Roman Catholic cathedral. 
 He was held in high esteem within and without the church, not 
 for his learning or his eloquence, but for his good sense, incor- 
 ruptible integrity, earnest piety and faithful and useful labors. 
 Rev. Henry Keeling was nominally his assistant, but really the 
 sole pastor of the Church. Rev. David Roper, a very intelligent, 
 but not popular preacher, in rapidly declining health, filled the 
 pulpit of the Second Church, but was not its pastor. 
 
 It is to me an affecting thought, that of all the men, ministers 
 and laymen, engaged in the formation of the Baptist General 
 Association of Virginia, I only am in the land of the living. 
 Elder Jas. Fife, one of the fathers of the body, after a long life 
 of useful labors, was the last to depart. These good brethren 
 built more wisely than they knew. They laid the foundations 
 of an edifice of whose noble proportions and grandeur they 
 formed no just conception. How would their hearts have swelled 
 with gratitude, and their tongues broke forth in strains of praise, 
 could they have foreseen the thousands of souls that would be 
 converted, the hundreds of churches that would be founded, and 
 the mighty missionary and educational influences that would be 
 exerted, by the feeble agencies they were putting in operation. 
 If it is permitted to them in heaven to know the results of their 
 earthly labors, their felicity is, doubtless, augmented by their 
 view of the rich harvests that have been reaped, and are yet to 
 be reaped, from the handful of seed cast by them in a seemingly 
 unfruitful soil. 
 
 Dr. Jeter possessed great facility in recalling facts, 
 but where dates were involved his memory was not 
 to be trusted. If dependent upon his statements 
 
HO LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 alone, we would be compelled to infer that at the 
 close of the meeting in Richmond he went directly 
 to Sussex County, and established himself in the 
 home of Rev. Nathaniel Chambliss. The fact seems 
 to be that he and Witt did at that time visit Sussex, 
 and probably remained there until midsummer, when 
 they went to King and Queen County to confer with 
 the Board, and to complete their arrangements for 
 their missionary tour. They were appointed with 
 instructions to traverse Western Virginia, and to as- 
 certain the religious condition of that portion of the 
 State. It is easy enough from our standpoint to crit- 
 icise the action of the Board in selecting these two 
 ministerial neophytes for a mission so arduous and 
 responsible. Perhaps it was not wise. Their cam- 
 paign was not expected to bear much fruit. They 
 moved with great rapidity and made only the brief- 
 est pauses at the prominent points along the way. 
 It was indeed simply a tour of inspection. The young 
 missionaries were hardy, courageous and zealous. 
 While inexperienced and ignorant of the country, 
 they were watchful and capable of forming an intelli- 
 gent opinion on the matters which they were sent 
 out to investigate. They possessed the additional 
 recommendation of being used to rough experiences, 
 and unused to expensive methods of living. They 
 were cheap laborers. If their appointment proved 
 nothing else, it at least evinced a purpose on the 
 part of the Baptists of those times to preach the gos- 
 pel in every portion of Virginia. The sending forth 
 of those young men was a significant event ; it meant 
 a new and aggressive movement. Their appoint- 
 
THE YOUNG MISSIONARY. m 
 
 merit marked the birthday of State Missions. Witt 
 and Jeter went out as pioneers, and constituted the 
 vanguard of that imperial host of Baptist mission- 
 aries, who, from that day to this, have been pushing 
 their triumphs into every portion of Virginia. 
 
 Witt and Jeter returned from their expedition, 
 bringing with them startling accounts of spiritual 
 destitution, and urging a vigorous and onward move- 
 ment on the part of the denomination. Their mod- 
 est counsel found a warm response among their breth- 
 ren, and the cry rang along the Baptist lines : " Let 
 us go up at once and possess it ; for we are able to 
 overcome it." 
 
 With steady and hopeful faith, the Baptists of 
 Virginia have been laboring for more than sixty 
 years to establish their principles in every quarter 
 of the State. How marvellous have been their suc- 
 cesses, and how wonderfully they have multiplied ! 
 For how much of this progress they are indebted to 
 these two young men, is a question which I must 
 not undertake to settle. 
 
 I present here Dr. Jeter's description of that 
 memorable missionary tour : 
 
 A MISSIONARY TOUR. 
 
 At the time of the formation of the General Association of 
 Virginia, it was arranged that Daniel Witt and myself should, 
 in the month of August, appear before its Executive Board, of 
 which Dr. Semple was the president, in the county of King and 
 Queen, then a centre of Baptist influence. The object of the 
 interview was that we might be appointed to explore the western 
 part of the State as a missionary field. At that time the Bap- 
 tists of Virginia knew little of one another. Then there were 
 no railroads, telegraphs or religious newspapers. Traveling was 
 
112 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 performed almost entirely by private conveyances. Intercom- 
 munication between different portions of the State for political 
 and commercial purposes was infrequent, and for religious ob- 
 jects almost unknown. The Board, before entering on its work 
 for evangelizing the State, very naturally desired to know some- 
 thing of its religious condition. 
 
 According to appointment, we presented our.-elves before the 
 Board, and were duly appointed missionaries, to explore its field 
 of labor and report its spiritual condition. At that time there 
 was quite a romance thrown around the missionary work. There 
 seemed to be something peculiarly sacred and inspiring in it. 
 We deemed ourselves highly honored in the unsought and unex- 
 pected honor conferred on us. We accepted the appointment, 
 and received our instructions, carefully written out in the beau- 
 tiful chirography of Eev. Andrew Broaddus. After preaching 
 several times in the county, as we had afterwards reason to be- 
 lieve with some profit to our hearers, we returned to Bedford to 
 prepare for our western tour, with no slight sense of responsibil- 
 ity upon us. With minds immature, and with little knowledge 
 and experience, we were very imperfectly fitted for our mission ; 
 but, perhaps, under all the circumstances, the Board could not 
 then do better. 
 
 On some day in October, 1823, two young men, one beardless 
 and the other nearly so, might have been seen journeying toward 
 the setting sun. They were rudely, but after the common style, 
 < quipped for their tour, mounted on steeds, strong but not gay, 
 with well-stuffed saddle-bags and overcoats and umbrellas 
 strapped behind them. It was to them a movement of no little 
 interest and consequence. Their first point of destination was the 
 New River Baptist Association, to be held, if my memory is not 
 in fault, at Reed Island meeting-house, in Grayson County. 
 Their route, with which, in part, they had some acquaintance, 
 was through the counties of Franklin and Patrick. In due time 
 they reached their destination. 
 
 The Association was a small body. Its ministers were plain 
 and illiterate, of narrow views and strong prejudices. The anti- 
 mission spirit was then just beginning to develop itself, and 
 muster its forces for the conflict which soon followed. Witt and 
 
THE YOUNG MISSIONARY. 113 
 
 myself were looked upon with suspicion, as spies sent to search out 
 the resources of the country. Another thing rendered us unpopular. 
 Here we met Rev. Robert Tisdale, who had recently left the 
 eastern part of the State to live and labor in the western. He 
 resided in Monroe County ; but in some of his journeys, within 
 the bounds of the New River Association, he heard rumors of 
 the disorderly conduct of a church member — desecration of the 
 Lord's Day, I think it was — and preferred a charge against the 
 supposed offender in his own church. The trial of the accused 
 stirred up strife. Retaliatory charges were brought against Tis- 
 dale, and, though they were of a trivial nature, they rendered 
 him extremely unpopular. Our previous acquaintance with 
 him led us, perhaps indiscreetly, to espouse his cause ; and being 
 identified with him, in the minds of the brethren, we shared in 
 his reproach. At Reed Island we did but little to promote the 
 object of our mission ; when, doubtless, if we had been wise, we 
 might have done much. 
 
 From this point we made a hasty circuit through the counties 
 of Wythe, Giles, Monroe, Greenbrier, Pocahontas, Bath, Alle- 
 ghany and Botetourt. We were accompanied on our route by 
 Brother Tisdale as far as to Pocahontas County. He was of 
 great service to us, as he was acquainted with the country, aud 
 secured for us an introduction into many families, and many 
 facilities for acquiring information, which otherwise we could 
 not have enjoyed. We found, in most places, great destitution 
 of religious instruction. Methodist circuit-riders had penetrated 
 almost every neighborhood ; but their labors were desultory, and 
 many of them were very imperfectly fitted for their performance. 
 There were Presbyterians in Lewisburg, and at a few other 
 points ; but we neither saw nor heard of Episcopalians. Baptist 
 Churches were few, feeble and widely scattered, supplied with 
 occasional preaching by illiterate pastors, with whom, for the 
 most part, the ministry was a secondary matter. Almost every- 
 where we met with isolated Baptists, and persons entertaining 
 Baptist views. Our reception was generally very cordial. The 
 plain people welcomed us, we being as plain as they, to their 
 coarse, but abundant fare, and opened their houses freely for us 
 to preach the gospel. There was no lack of mission fields. In 
 
114 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B, JETER, D.D. 
 
 almost every neighborhood we were invited to establish mission 
 stations, and send ministers to occupy them. Court-houses, 
 school-houses and private houses were offered for our occasional 
 or constant use We preached as often as our opportunities per- 
 mitted ; but as we were traveling, and had no means of sending 
 appointments ahead of us, our congregations, gathered on short 
 notices of limited circulation, were generally small. 
 
 The trip, though intensely interesting to us, with our very 
 limited knowledge of the world, was not distinguished by any 
 stirring incidents. A few events may not be unworthy of brief 
 notice. 
 
 I preached at a private house in the Little Levels of Green- 
 brier — think that was the name of the valley. At that time re- 
 ligious controversy was common, and frequently conducted with 
 great folly and fierceness. Almost every preacher was a polemic, 
 and every polemic was ready on all occasions to do battle for his 
 tenets. One of the subjects of controversy between Calvinists 
 and Arminians was the doctrine of sinless perfection. Arminians 
 affirmed, and Calvinists denied it ; and each party was equally 
 eager to defend its opinion. In my sermon I took occasion to 
 attack the doctrine of sinless perfection. A Methodist class- 
 leader present was resolved that no such heterodox notion should 
 be proclaimed in the Little Levels of Greenbrier ; and by means 
 of shuffling his feet, stamping and contradicting, he well-nigh, 
 on this occasion, accomplished his purpose. I became embar- 
 rassed, and brought my remarks to a speedy, but by no means 
 triumphant, conclusion. I was glad to learn, however, that the 
 course of the class-leader was generally condemned in the com- 
 munity, even by his brethren. 
 
 I had the privilege of being present at the first regimental 
 militia muster in the newly-formed county of Pocahontas. The 
 hunting of bears and wolves called for different tactics from those 
 taught in modern warfare. The muster was a farce. The regi- 
 mental column, according to the description of a militia parade 
 which I read in a comic almanac, " was zigzag at both ends, 
 and crooked in the middle." The perplexed colonel, not know- 
 ing by what evolution to extricate it from its confusion, rode in 
 front of the tangled line, and, with his drawn sword pointing out 
 
THE YOUNG MISSIONARY. H5 
 
 the ground, cried, in a stentorian voice, somewhat mellowed by- 
 despair : " Come along here." The muster was of no religious 
 importance, except that it afforded an opportunity for publishing 
 an appointment for preaching in the neighborhood the next day. 
 
 I was at Huntersville, which figured so largely in the late 
 war, when there were no buildings there except the log cabins of 
 Mr. Bradshaw. It had recently been selected as the metropolis 
 of the county of Pocahontas ; and Mr. Bradshaw, the owner of 
 the land, seemed as proud of the distinction as if he had been 
 elected Lord-Mayor of London. He named the place Hunters- 
 ville, in honor of the distinguished class of persons in that re- 
 gion of bears and deer, of wolves and foxes, of which Mr. Brad- 
 shaw Avas himself a prominent member. At the time of my visit 
 his cabins served all the purposes of court-house, clerk's office 
 and hotel, and prison, too, if any prison was used. I am sorry 
 that I did not preserve a copy of a notice to his customers, which 
 Mr. Bradshaw had posted in a conspicuous place on his prem- 
 ises. He had credited them, and fearing that they might repu- 
 diate their debts, he generously proposed an adjustment of his 
 claims by receiving, at a fair valuation, whatever commodities 
 his mountain friends might have to spare. In conception, lan- 
 guage, orthography and punctuation, it was fairly entitled to a 
 place among Disraeli's Curiosities of Literature. 
 
 About the close of November we reached our homes, thankful 
 for the mercies which had accompanied us through our journey. 
 After some delay, we appeared in King and Queen County to 
 report to the Board the results of our mission. Both Witt and 
 myself had kept diaries of our tour. His, as he was the senior 
 missionary, was read before the Board. In answer to questions 
 proposed by our employers, we gave them all the information 
 that we had gathered concerning the religious condition of the 
 people, and the openings for the preaching of the gospel, in the 
 regions through which we had passed. Guided by this imperfect 
 report, the Board selected the early fields of its operations, and 
 commenced its evangelical labors in the State, which, through a 
 period of more than half a century, have been prosecuted with a 
 good degree of earnestness, diligence and success. 
 
 I may mention an incident in conclusion. We stated before 
 
116 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 the Board that some man, whom we saw in our travel, said of 
 Brother Tisdale : " He is too learned a man to be a preacher ; 
 he ought to be a lawyer." He was a sensible man, with very 
 little education, and no large stock of knowledge. When the 
 statement was made, Andrew Broaddus, with a twinkle in his 
 eye, and with his inimitable grace, looking at Semple, said : 
 " Brother Semple, if you and I had to try Brother Tisdale on 
 that charge, we should acquit him." 
 
 I must be candid enough to say that Dr. Jeter's 
 account above given of his and Witt's missionary 
 excursion is not so full or satisfactory as that fur- 
 nished by his co-laborer. Dr. Witt tells us that their 
 track lay through the counties of Franklin, Henrj^, 
 Patrick, Montgomery, Grayson, Giles, Wythe, Mon- 
 roe, Greenbrier, Pocahontas, Alleghany, Bath, Rock- 
 bridge and Botetourt. He adds that they discovered 
 great spiritual destitution, and that they were greeted 
 with a hearty welcome wherever they went. They 
 found only a few feeble Baptist churches, and in some 
 counties they did not meet a Baptist minister or even 
 a member of a Baptist church. 
 
 How long their expedition lasted, they have failed 
 to tell us. After their return to Bedford they started 
 out upon an even more extensive exploration through 
 the southern and eastern portion of the State. They 
 journeyed on horseback through many of the coun- 
 ties lying between Bedford and Isle of Wight, and 
 then crossing James River, they made their way 
 through James City, York, Gloucester, Matthews and 
 Middlesex, and finally returned to King and Queen 
 to make their report to the Board. 
 
 To that meeting these young ministers submitted 
 
THE YOUNG MISSIONARY. 117 
 
 a question of vast importance to themselves, agree- 
 ing to abide by the decision of their brethren. In 
 Robert Semple and Andrew Broaddus, the ruling 
 spirits of the Board, and then the two foremost Bap- 
 tist preachers in the State, they found ready and 
 conscientious counsellors, but whether they received 
 from them the wisest counsel on the point at issue 
 is a question on which there might be an honest dif- 
 ference of opinion. 
 
 From the beginning, Witt and Jeter had felt pro- 
 foundly their lack of qualification for the ministerial 
 office. Their later experiences and their contact 
 with cultivated men had served to render their 
 desire for an education more intense. Now there 
 was opened to them an opportunity to secure better 
 mental culture and more careful theological training. 
 Luther Rice was then in Virginia, and he had be- 
 come deeply interested in these two mountain boys. 
 He was anxious for them to step aside from active 
 service and seek more effective training for their 
 future work. He proposed to secure for them the 
 advantages of a collegiate education. It was a tempt- 
 ing proposition, and fell in with the current of their 
 strongest desires. It seemed to be providential, and 
 yet, unwilling to settle the question for themselves, 
 these modest young brethren referred it to Semple 
 and Broaddus. After due consideration, the old 
 brethren gave their voice against a collegiate course 
 of study. This they did, not through any prejudices 
 against higher education, but on the ground that 
 the call for ministers was peculiarly urgent at that 
 time, and that these two young men could not afford 
 
118 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 to immure themselves in a college for four or five 
 years. 
 
 This fact is taken from Dr. Witt's autobiography. 
 He tells us, with a rare delicacy of humor, that these 
 grave counsellors presented a special reason against his 
 going to college. It seems that his health was then 
 supposed to be very feeble, and it was believed that 
 he could not live to be thirty years old. This opin- 
 ion was brought into the council, and treated as a 
 foregone conclusion. They assumed it as fixed that he 
 was to die in six or eight years, and the only ques- 
 tion was as to the best use that he could make of the 
 little fragment of time that remained to him. They 
 thought it quite absurd that a young man already 
 on the verge of the grave should be harboring the 
 notion of going to college ; but he did not die on 
 schedule time. He was over sixty years of age when 
 he made the record of these facts. " It seems," he 
 says in speaking of the matter, " as great a wonder 
 to me now, as it would have been to Semple then, 
 that a harp of a thousand strings could keep in tune 
 so long." 
 
 The counsel of the elders prevailed, and the col- 
 lege course was abandoned. It was determined, how- 
 ever, that the young brethren should give themselves 
 to study. This decision led to a sudden break in 
 their hitherto united and happy lives, and from that 
 time forth they pursued divergent paths. It was 
 decided that Witt should be placed under the tuition 
 of Brother Semple for a season, but it is probable 
 that he spent only two or three months there, after 
 which he was sent on another missionary tour to the 
 
THE YOUNG MISSIONARY. 119 
 
 Valley of Virginia. At the close of that engagement 
 he went to Charlotte County, and pursued a course of 
 study under the direction of Abner W. Clopton. In 
 a few years he settled in the county of Prince 
 Edward, and spent the remainder of his life in a quiet 
 country pastorate. He was a man of spotless purity 
 and ineffable gentleness of character. Dr. A. M. Poin- 
 dexter said of him, that he possessed in high meas- 
 ure, " converting power" and Dr. Jeter said of him, 
 " Few pastors were the direct means of the salvation 
 of so many persons as he was." 
 
 From King and Queen, Jeter, after a sad parting 
 with the companion of his former labors and travels, 
 returned to Sussex County. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 HIS LIFE IN SUSSEX AND CAMPBELL. 
 
 IT was an odd whirl of events which carried young 
 Jeter into the county of Sussex. It really 
 seemed that he had no business there. He was 
 an entire stranger to the people and the place, and 
 they knew nothing of him. He went without being 
 sent for, and had no thought of making it the place 
 of his abode. His traveling companion, Daniel Witt, 
 was invited to visit Rev. Nathaniel Chambliss, and 
 Jeter went along for the lack of something else to do. 
 But such is the lot which falls to all of us. An in- 
 visible hand guides our steps. Call it what we will, 
 there is a subtle force which dominates our life, and 
 determines our course. It is stronger than our 
 caprices and mightier than our purposes. It shifts 
 us from our chosen track and thrusts us into situa- 
 tions of which in advance we could never have 
 dreamed. It was, by a way which he knew not, that 
 this roaming youth was conducted to Sussex. 
 
 It is the improbable that usually happens. It 
 seemed likely enough that young Witt, so winsome 
 and lovely, and whose fame had gone before him, 
 would meet such a reception at the hands of the Sus- 
 sex brethren, as would constrain him to abide with 
 them. As a fact, he paid his promised visit, and then 
 120 
 
HIS LIFE IN SUSSEX AND CAMPBELL. 121 
 
 took his speedy and final leave. But Jeter, who en- 
 tered the county somewhat as an intruder, won the 
 heart of the venerable Chambliss, and became an 
 inmate of his home. 
 
 It is not easy nor important to estimate the length 
 of time which he spent in Sussex. He went there 
 first in June, 1823, and probably remained until Au- 
 gust, when he proceeded to King and Queen County 
 to confer with the Board with reference to his 
 entrance into its service as missionary. It is not 
 certain, but quite probable, that he returned imme- 
 diately to Sussex and remained there until he and 
 Witt went forth upon their missionary tour in Octo- 
 ber. Their journey through Western Virginia was 
 made during the autumn of 1823, and that through 
 Southern and Eastern Virginia was, I judge, made 
 during the winter of 1824. This gave him an oppor- 
 tunity of reaching Sussex in the spring, — in ample 
 time for his ordination, which occurred in May of 
 that year. 
 
 Of his life in Sussex we know very little — next to 
 nothing, except what he has told us. There were, 
 however, some facts connected with that portion of 
 his career which exerted an important influence in 
 fixing his character, and which must have a brief 
 mention here. 
 
 Though he entered that county as an uninvited 
 stranger, he quickly secured the gracious kindness 
 of old Elder Chambliss. It must have been a case of 
 love on first sight. That venerated and saintly man 
 of God saw something in this lank and blundering 
 mountaineer to excite his respect and sympathy. 
 
122 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 He felt for him in his poverty, and in his manifest 
 lack of preparation for his calling. Beneath his rus- 
 tic garb and awkward manner he saw the stuff for 
 building a noble manhood. He was a stranger, and 
 he took him in. So far as I am aware, he was the 
 only man, excepting Luther Rice, who evinced a 
 practical solicitude for young Jeter's education. He 
 opened to him the gates of hospitality, invested him 
 with the privileges of a son, gave him free use of his 
 books, honored him with his confidence and com- 
 panionship, and furnished him money to improve his 
 wardrobe. I do not know much of Elder Chambliss' 
 private character, but this incident is sufficient to 
 mark him as a man of worth. It shows his discrim- 
 ination, his kindness of soul and his care for the 
 Christian ministry. There are many interesting les- 
 sons suggested by the Scripture story of the young 
 man in Elisha's college who lost the borrowed axe. 
 To me the most touching feature of the incident is 
 one that is not even mentioned — that is, the kind- 
 ness of the man who loaned the axe. It was a deed 
 of helpfulness wrought for a poor young preacher. 
 Of that same kindly and unselfish sort was the un- 
 sought favor exhibited by Elder Chambliss for Jeter. 
 It is charming to picture the grateful young 
 brother, cosily ensconced in the Chambliss mansion. 
 He had not had things after that fashion before, and 
 he was almost dumb-struck by his good fortune. 
 There was much in his new circumstances to quicken 
 and encourage him. In the atmosphere of that home 
 he grew speedily in knowledge, refinement and self- 
 respect. There, really for the first time, he was ad- 
 
HIS LIFE IN SUSSEX AND CAMPBELL. 123 
 
 vantageously situated for study. His facilities were 
 far short of the best, but they were greatly superior 
 to all that he had known in the past. Mr. Cham- 
 bliss was a gentleman of far more than ordinary in- 
 telligence, and was deeply devout in his spirit. He 
 was full of kindness, and was very companionable 
 with his youthful protege. In his society there was 
 much to arouse a young man to noble endeavors. 
 
 Another happy feature of his new home was the 
 library. From his early boyhood he had been 
 hungry for books. The sight of a book would 
 charm him away from almost any circle of company. 
 He had always read everything that he could put 
 his hands upon, but for most of the time there had 
 not been many books of any kind in his reach. Now 
 there was a change for the better. He came in con- 
 tact with the written thought of the world. Not 
 that his benefactor had any great collection of 
 books, but there was a better assortment than he 
 had enjoyed before. We can readily imagine with 
 what intense relish he devoured the new feast there 
 spread before him. His long-famished mind revelled 
 in its new luxuries, and grew wonderfully in wisdom 
 and strength. 
 
 Up to that time he had not been creditably equip- 
 ped for public life. Beginning without means, he 
 had toiled along without salary, and really he had 
 not been able to provide himself with a comely out- 
 fit. He was not fastidious, and far too sensible to 
 allow a false pride to curb his religious zeal. At the 
 same time, as he was brought in contact with others 
 who dressed in more attractive style, he must have 
 
124 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 sometimes felt humiliated. He had a decided fond- 
 ness for display, and, of course, it cut him to the bone 
 "when he was put at a disadvantage. The tradition 
 of his ill-fitting suit of home-spun which he always 
 wore in his early preaching days has had a long and 
 popular run. It has been repeated a thousand times 
 and with many variations. His "jeans uniform," 
 with its loose and slouchy swing, with coat-sleeves 
 too short, and with pants exaggerated in width, and 
 notoriously deficient in length, was no mean part of 
 " the stock in trade " of some who delighted to tell 
 ludicrous incidents at his expense. The tradition 
 was not without its historic basis. His manner of 
 dress was conspicuously plain, and that from stern 
 necessity. When his uncouth costume had become 
 a thing of the past, he sometimes spoke of it with 
 mingled merriment and pathos. This he could well 
 afford to do, as in his later life he had become accus- 
 tomed to dress with almost faultless taste, but I ven- 
 ture to say that he enjoyed it far more in the retro- 
 spect than he did at the time. When he went to 
 Sussex, his thoughtful benefactor furnished him 
 means for providing a more creditable outfit. 
 
 There was another advantage. His residence in 
 Lower Virginia gave him access to a better class of 
 churches. The Baptists in that section were strong 
 and, for the times, intelligent and Avell organized. In 
 almost every congregation there were trained and 
 critical auditors, and this stimulated him in his stud- 
 ies and in his public ministrations. 
 
 Of his experience in Sussex he has this to say. 
 
HIS LIFE IN SUSSEX AND CAMPBELL. J 25 
 
 MY RESIDENCE IN SUSSEX COUNTY. 
 
 My visit to the county occurred in this way: Elder Na- 
 thaniel Chambliss, pastor of the High Hills and Sappony Bap- 
 tist Churches, had relatives residing in Bedford County, near the 
 home of Daniel Witt. Through them he heard of the popular- 
 ity and success of the young evangelist, and invited him, just 
 before the meeting in Richmond, which organized the General 
 Association, to visit the county and preach to his churches. 
 Witt requested me to accompany him, and I cheerfully acceded 
 to the request. 
 
 At the close of the General Association we commenced our 
 journey to Sussex, which then seemed to me to be a remote part 
 of the world. Our first destination was Petersburg. Here we 
 spent a Lord's Day. We were hospitably entertained by Brother 
 Davenport, the main supporter of the Baptist Church in the 
 place. It was a feeble body, had recently erected a house of 
 worship on a rivulet, far below the subsequent grade of the 
 street, for which they were deeply in debt. They had sent out, 
 or shortly after sent out, an itinerant English minister, named 
 Marcher, to collect money for the payment of their debt. The 
 arrangement added slightly to its amount ; but the generous 
 agent accepted his collections as full compensation for his labors. 
 It was arranged for brother Witt and myself to preach on Sun- 
 day. Brother Davenport had heard Witt preach in Richmond, 
 and was greatly pleased with his gifts ; but he had serious doubts 
 of my capacity to edify a Petersburg audience. It was ap- 
 pointed that Witt should preach in the morning and in the 
 evening, the usual times of preaching ; and, to avoid mortifica- 
 tion, it was provided that I should hold an afternoon service. 
 Witt acquitted himself well, as he was one of the surest extempore 
 preachers I have ever known. The afternoon was warm, my 
 congregation was very small and sleepy, and, in my sermon, I 
 fulfilled the most gloomy forebodings of good brother Daven- 
 port. He, no doubt, felt thankful that he had so judiciously ar- 
 ranged our appointments that I had brought but slight reproach 
 on the cause which he had deeply at heart. 
 
 On Monday we renewed our journey to Sussex. Of the trip I 
 remember nothing, except my surprise and amusement at seeing, 
 
126 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 on the road, long poles attached to tall posts, with a bucket at 
 one end, to draw water from the shallow wells. Such an ar- 
 rangement was not only new to me, but would have been im- 
 practicable in the deep wells of the Piedmont country. We 
 reached the hospitable home of Brother Chambliss late in the 
 afternoon. It was a comfortable dwelling on the road from 
 Petersburg to Bellfield, not far from the point at which the Pe- 
 tersburg and Weldon Railroad now crosses the Nottoway River, 
 but long before railroads had been heard of. We were received 
 with great cordiality ; and, for several weeks, preached in the 
 surrounding neighborhoods to large and interested congrega- 
 tions. Witt's engagements necessitated his early return to Bed- 
 ford ; but, through the persuasion of Brother Chambliss and the 
 churches, and the encouraging prospect of usefulness, I was in- 
 duced to remain in the county. 
 
 This was my first residence beyond my paternal roof; and 
 certainly no stranger ever found a more pleasant home. Brother 
 Chambliss boarded me and my horse gratuitously, made me 
 generous and timely presents, and urged the churches to contri- 
 bute to my support. His excellent wife vied with him in kind- 
 ness, and spared neither pains nor expense to render my situa- 
 tion pleasant. Had I been an only son on a visit to them, after 
 an absence of seven years, and expecting to leave them in a few 
 weeks to see them no more on earth, they could not have treated 
 me with greater consideration and kindness than they did 
 throughout the three years that I sojourned with them. They 
 laid me under imperishable obligations. While they lived I 
 venerated them ; and, though they have been dead many years, 
 I have not ceased to hold them in grateful remembrance, and 
 rejoice in this opportunity of making a record of their excellence. 
 Elder Chambliss was an honest, earnest, consistent Christian. 
 In industry and management he was an example to the whole 
 community. As a preacher he was sensible, solid and faithful, 
 laboring for nothing, and contributing largely to the pecuniary 
 support of his churches. Mrs. Chambliss, (" Aunt Judy," as she 
 was generally called), was in all respects worthy of her husband 
 — gentle, discreet, hospitable, a neat and systematic housekeep- 
 er ; in short, a pastor's model wife. If their monuments corre- 
 
HIS LIFE IN SUSSEX AND CAMPBELL. 127 
 
 sponded in height and beauty with the excellence of their char- 
 acters, they would attract the attention and win the admiration 
 of all who might pass them. 
 
 My labors were not confined to the county of Sussex. The 
 house of Mr. Chambliss was not my constant home, but my 
 headquarters. It was far more common then than it is now for 
 preachers to itinerate. Pastors labored much as evangelists. I 
 had but little seed to sow, but I scattered it unsparingly over a 
 vast field. I preached through the counties of Greensville, 
 Brunswick, Lunenburg, Dinwiddie, Prince George, Surry, 
 Southampton, Isle of Wight, and, indeed, all the counties from 
 Sussex to the seaboard, between the James River and the North 
 Carolina line, besides in several counties of that State. Some- 
 times I labored under the patronage of the General Association, 
 and at other times as an independent evangelist. One year I 
 preached monthly, as a quasi pastor, at Mill Swamp Church, in 
 Isle of Wight County, to large congregations. Of the results of 
 my desultory labors I can form no estimate. During my resi- 
 dence in Sussex an interesting revival occurred at High Hills, 
 by which many disciples were added to the church, and the 
 members were greatly refreshed. 
 
 My stay in the county was attended with very important con- 
 sequences to me It gave such opportunities for reading and 
 studying as I had not before enjoyed. Elder Chambliss had a 
 small, but well selected library ; and I was enabled to buy such 
 books as I most needed. Of these advantages I diligently 
 availed myself. When I was at home, especially in the winter 
 seasons, I read and studied with an unquestionable thirst for 
 knowledge. I devoured Dwight's Theology, Mosheim's Ecclesi- 
 astical History, and many other volumes of real merit. Proba- 
 bly, in no equal period of my life did I acquire so much useful 
 knowledge, or contribute so largely to my habit of studying as 
 during my sojourn in Sussex. 
 
 On the 4th of May, 1824, I was ordained to the work of the 
 Christian ministry, at High Hills meeting-house, by Elders Na- 
 thaniel Chambliss and John D. Williams. It was to me an oc- 
 casion of deep and solemn interest. In the morning I read, on 
 my knees, the epistles of Paul to Timothy, with earnest atten- 
 
128 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 tion, that I might understand the weighty responsibilities I was 
 about publicly to assume. At that time not more than two or 
 three Baptist ministers in the State received salaries adequate to 
 their support. I solemnly resolved before God that, so long as I 
 should receive the necessaries of life by preaching, I would give 
 myself wholly to the ministry. The sermon on the occasion was 
 preached by Elder Williams, from Matt. xxiv. 45 : " Who then 
 is a faithful and wise servant, whom his Lord hath made ruler 
 over his household, to give them meat in clue season ?" Of the 
 services after the lapse of more than half a century, I remember 
 but little. The ordaining prayer was offered, as I suppose, by 
 Elder Chambliss. That it was sincere and fervent, I have no 
 question ; but in what measure I have been indebted to it for 
 my usefulness in life, only God knows. I desire to record that, 
 in a period of more than fifty-four years, I have maintained in- 
 violate the solemn pledge I made on the day of my ordination, 
 and, though my labors have been mostly among a plain, poor 
 people, and my earthly supplies have often been meagre, I have 
 never known want, or been hindered in my appropriate work by 
 secular care. 
 
 I never considered Sussex my permanent home. I was not 
 pastor of any church, but merely the assistant of Elder Cham- 
 bliss in the pastorate of two small country churches. In the 
 spring of 1826 I deemed it my duty to leave my pleasant Sussex 
 home. On the morning of my departure I read, at family 
 worship, the twentieth chapter of the Acts of the Apostles. There 
 was some similarity between the separation of Paul from his 
 Ephesian brethren and my departure from my Sussex friends ; 
 especially in the fact that I " kneeled down and prayed with 
 them all, and they all wept sore." The venerable Chambliss I 
 saw no more. After a few years of absence I visited his home, and 
 had the melancholy pleasure of standing by his grave, and 
 calling to grateful remembrance his paternal kindness to me 
 in years past. Sister Chambliss I saw but two or three times 
 after I ceased to dwell in her house. She lived several years, 
 filled up her life with deeds of charity and devotion, and was 
 peacefully dismissed to enter into the enjoyment of her eternal re- 
 ward. 
 
HIS LIFE IN SUSSEX AND CAMPBELL. 129 
 
 While in Sussex he attended a meeting of the 
 Portsmouth Baptist Association, and below is his 
 account of it. It is worthy of note that in his re- 
 ports of those early associational meetings he touches 
 very lightly upon their proceedings. With all re- 
 spect to the dear old fathers of those times, it may 
 be said that they did not " proceed " very vigor- 
 ously. They moved at a leisurely pace. They had 
 no important missionary enterprises on hand, and 
 they had no place for those thrilling and memorable 
 discussions which are often enjoyed in the district 
 meetings of the present day. It is interesting to 
 notice that even in those days the " Baptist lay- 
 man " was a prominent figure, and was heard on 
 every occasion. 
 
 THE PORTSMOUTH ASSOCIATION. 
 
 In May, 1824, the Portsmouth Baptist Association held its 
 anniversary in the town of Portsmouth, where it was organized 
 in 1791. I then resided in Sussex County, and accompanied the 
 venerable Chambliss to the meeting. We made the journey by 
 private conveyance, and shared in the hospitality of the brethren 
 by the way. The Association convened in the Baptist Church, 
 a framed building, on or near the spot where now stands the 
 neat and comfortable Baptist worship-house. Rev. David M. 
 Woodson, from Campbell County, Va., was the pastor of the 
 flock. Doctor Bowers, a layman of fine appearance, polished 
 manners, and great intelligence, was Moderator of the body. 
 Jacob Darden, Reverend, I think he was, though from age and 
 feebleness of health he preached but little, was clerk of the 
 Association. He was tall, spare and of venerable appearance. 
 He was the Nestor of the body, and would have been considered 
 wise, discreet and excellent in any assembly of intelligent, good 
 men. The prominent ministers of the Association were, beside 
 those already named, Chambliss, Murrel, Sherv/ood, Cornelius 
 and Brown. The meeting was remarkable for the number and 
 9 
 
130 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 the ability of laymen who took part in its business. Besides the 
 Moderator, I remember Josiah Holliman and Benjamin Griffin, 
 all of whom, at one time or another, were members of the State 
 Legislature. Among the visiting ministers whom I call to mind 
 were Richard Poindexter, the father of the late Dr. A. M. Poin- 
 dexter, and William H. Jordan, the half-brother of the doctor, 
 from Bertie County, North Carolina. 
 
 Of the proceedings of the Association I recollect nothing, ex- 
 cept a discussion on the validity of Pedobaptist immersions. In 
 this conflict I fleshed my youthful sword, and was ingloriously 
 defeated. I had associated with Semple, A. Broaddus and others 
 among the fathers, who maintained the validity of such bap- 
 tisms, and had adopted their views. As this side of the subject 
 seemed to be feebly supported, I ventured, with probablv more 
 courage than discretion, for the first time in my life, to engage 
 in religious controversy. My rashness evoked the chastising rod 
 of Richard Poindexter. He was about fifty years old, of me- 
 dium size, of swarthy complexion, possessed of a mind remarkable 
 for astuteness, and great self-possession and readiness in extempore 
 debate. Dr. Poindexter, with greater culture and more breadth 
 of mind, bore a strong intellectual resemblance to his sire. It 
 may reasonably be supposed that I was over-matched in the de- 
 bate. I remember but a single illustration in the speech of El- 
 der Poindexter. " Roundness," he said, " is essential to a bullet; 
 beat it flat, and it will cease to be a bullet. So certain things — 
 an authorized administrator among them — are essential to bap- 
 tism, and without these things it is not baptism." I made, so far 
 as I can recollect, no attempt to reply. The Association decided 
 by an overwhelming vote that Pedobaptist immersions are not 
 valid baptisms. I was defeated, but not convinced. 
 
 William H. Jordan was the central object'of attraction at the 
 meeting. He was nineteen years old, a widower, of pleasing ap- 
 pearance and manners, possessed an ample fortune, had just been 
 converted and baptized in a most extraordinary religious revival, 
 which prevailed in Bertie and the contiguous regions, and had 
 entered the ministry coetaneously with his baptism. He preached 
 in the Baptist Church in Portsmouth, at night, to a crowded 
 audience. His text was Eccl. xii. 1 : " Remember now thy 
 
HIS LIFE IN SUSSEX AND CAMPBELL. 131 
 
 Creator in the days of thy youth." Considering his age and in- 
 experience, it was a remarkable sermon. It was less pathetic 
 and winning than the best efforts of Daniel Witt ; but certainly 
 equal, and probably superior, to them in fluency and in brilliancy 
 of illustration. I went immediately from Portsmouth to the first 
 anniversary of the General Association in Lynchburg, and re- 
 ported that I had heard a young preacher in Portsmouth who 
 was destined to be a rival of Whitefield in pulpit eloquence. 
 
 On the Sunday of the Association I preached for Brother 
 Cornelius in the Cumberland Street Church, Norfolk, from the 
 text, Rom. v. 1 : " Therefore being justified by faith, we have 
 peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ." Of the sermon 
 I retain no remembrance, except that it was delivered with free- 
 dom and pleasure, and secured words of approval and encour- 
 agement from the pastor. 
 
 The pleasure of my visit was greatly enhanced by my hospita- 
 ble entertainment in the family of Dr. Schoolfield. A more 
 pleasant and agreeable home I could not have had. For many 
 years the doctor's house was known as the attractive resort of 
 Baptist ministers visiting Portsmouth. He was an intelligent 
 and successful physician, a genial companion and a generous 
 friend ; but, in some respects, quite peculiar. He was morbidly 
 conscientious. He had been for many years a Baptist, but 
 whether he was in communion with the church I cannot say. 
 He was upright, temperate, prudent and universally respected ; 
 but he was constantly despairing of his salvation. No one 
 doubted his piety but himself ; and his doubts arose from his of- 
 fences, which to others seemed mere trifles. On one occasion he 
 made me his father-confessor. He was in deep sorrow and 
 gloom, and anxious to learn whether his salvation was possible. 
 This was the cause of his trouble and despair. When he was a 
 boy (he was now near sixty years old) a house was burned in 
 the town of Portsmouth. He and other boys gathered the iron 
 from the ruins, sold it for a trifle and divided the money among 
 themselves. It did not occur to him till many years afterwards 
 that the act was a theft. He endeavored earnestly, but unsuc- 
 cessfully, to find the person robbed or his heirs, that he might 
 restore the ill-gotten treasure. Failing in this effort, he paid to 
 
132 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 the mayor of the town a sum equal, as he supposed, to the 
 amount which he obtained from the spoils, with interest down to 
 the time of this settlement, to be distributed among the poor- 
 Yet his mind was not at ease. He wished me to tell him whether 
 I thought it was possible for him to be saved without making 
 reparation to the persons injured by the theft. I do not call to 
 mind the counsel which I gave him, but I was convinced that he 
 needed physic more than instruction. No teaching can heal a 
 mind diseased. I pitied, but greatly admired the man, against 
 whom a morbid, sensitive, searching conscience could find no 
 graver accusation, in a period of forty years, than a boyish in- 
 discretion. The doctor became later in life a confirmed hypo- 
 chondriac, and died, I think, as he had lived, almost or quite 
 despairing of his salvation. In view of such an affliction, how 
 consolatory and cheering are the words of the Psalmist : " Like 
 as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that 
 fear him. For he knoweth our frame ; he remembereth that we 
 are dust." 
 
 Jeter remained in Sussex County for nearly three 
 years. While a diligent student, he was also an ac- 
 tive preacher. It seems that he never became a 
 pastor while living in Sussex, but preached as an 
 itinerant, extending his labors into five or six coun- 
 ties. Whether his failure to become a pastor was a 
 matter of choice with him, or whether the conserva- 
 tive Baptists of those times esteemed him too young 
 for the bishop's office, are questions which he does 
 not answer. We only know that in the spring of 
 1826 he bade adieu to the lowlands of Virginia, quit 
 his adopted home, and turned his face once more to- 
 ward his native mountains ; but he did not go to 
 Bedford. He was now to enter upon regular pas- 
 toral duty, and according to the inexorable law, he 
 who was a Bedford man could not be a Bedford pastor. 
 
HIS LIFE IN SUSSEX AND CAMPBELL. 133 
 
 It was in the county of Campbell that he was for 
 the first time to undertake the pastoral role. He 
 has not told us how it came to pass, that he deter- 
 mined to settle in that county. He was evidently 
 influenced in part by his anxiety to escape the ma- 
 larial troubles of Lower Virginia. 
 
 He was not a pastor in Campbell, but preached 
 regularly at Union Hill and Hill's Creek churches. 
 One of these had a pastor, and both were very fee- 
 ble bodies. He regarded himself as an assistant. 
 
 It went not very prosperously with him in his 
 chosen field. It was a tame and uninspiring posi- 
 tion. The romance and excitement of his rambling 
 life utterly vanished, and he found himself linked 
 with a dull and uncongenial field. For some unex- 
 plained reason he did not take. He tugged away 
 with all his ardent and inflexible energy, but he won 
 little fruit, and when at the end of eighteen months 
 he handed in his resignation, he felt that it was good 
 to get away. 
 
 He always recurred to his Campbell pastorate as 
 the most unproductive and discouraging part of his 
 entire ministerial life. He told me that he left the 
 field with a poignant sense of failure, not knowing, 
 indeed, that he had accomplished any good. 
 
 It was a withering experience for a young man of 
 his mettle. It was a terrible chastisement. It un- 
 veiled before him the trials and obstacles of a minis- 
 ter's life as he had never seen them before. 
 
 And yet it is quite certain that he exaggerated his 
 failure. It was not so complete as, in his mortifica- 
 tion, he imagined. Years afterwards, when he had 
 
134 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETEE, D.D. 
 
 risen to distinction, and could well afford to admit 
 that his first pastoral service was unsuccessful, he 
 chanced to meet a cultivated Christian woman, prom- 
 inently connected, and highly honored for her useful- 
 ness, who told him that she was led to Christ under 
 his ministrations, while he was preaching in Camp- 
 bell. Perhaps there were other fruits which sprang 
 from the seed that he sowed in that seemingly bar- 
 ren soil, of which he will know nothing till the last 
 day. 
 
 It may occur to some that this is a fit place for 
 the historian to speculate on the causes which led 
 to the comparative failure of his labors in Campbell. 
 Inasmuch as I do not know that it was a failure, and 
 since, too, I would not know how to explain it if I 
 knew that it was a failure, I beg to be excused. One 
 fact, however, may be mentioned. He declined a far 
 more important call to the northern neck of Vir- 
 ginia, in order to accept the field in Campbell. 
 
 This was evidently a mistake, which in time he 
 realized and corrected. The Lord had need for him 
 in the position from which he had turned away, and 
 by his own inscrutable dealings, he led him to the 
 post of duty. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE NORTHERN NECK. 
 
 DR. JETER spent nine years in the Northern 
 Neck of Virginia, and he ever afterwards 
 regarded it as the most important period of 
 his life. After the cheerless experiences of Camp- 
 bell, he must have found the change delightful. He 
 was brought in contact with new people, and many 
 of them were devout and intelligent, far beyond the 
 average. The churches to whose charge he went, 
 had been anxious for several years to secure his ser- 
 vices, and when at last he came, they received him 
 with many demonstrations of joy. He always said 
 that really his first pastorate was in the Northern 
 Neck ; there he found an open path to usefulness, 
 and from the outset the blessing of God manifestly 
 attended his labors. When in his old age he wrote 
 his " Recollections," he dwelt long and lovingly upon 
 that portion of his life. Of no other portion of his 
 life did he write with such peculiar unction. 
 
 There is nothing for me to do, except to present 
 his several papers which bear upon his career in 
 the Northern Neck, and to add such facts as have 
 been gleaned from other sources. 
 
 His first visit to that section of country was made 
 
 135 
 
136 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 near the close of 1825. He was then in his twenty- 
 fourth year, and yet so pleasantly did he impress 
 the people who had enjoyed the able ministrations of 
 Samuel L. Straughan and Lewis Lunsford, that they 
 at once called him to be their pastor. He declined 
 the invitation, and assigned three reasons for his 
 action. Tidewater people will probably smile when 
 he tells them that he was influenced in part by the 
 dread of the malarial diseases, prevalent at times in 
 the Northern Neck. A mountaineer would regard 
 his decision as a sufficient proof of his excellent sense 
 and discretion. 
 
 In those days especially, people in the upper por- 
 tions of Virginia looked with actual terror upon 
 chills and fever. I recall distinctly the fact that I 
 never saw a real victim of that dread affliction until 
 I was twenty years old. 
 
 A young man came into our community who had 
 been living in the malarial region, and he shocked 
 his friends one day by having a chill. Very few 
 had ever witnessed such a spectacle. His case 
 excited alarm, and if he had suddenly expired, many 
 would have supposed that it was only such a result 
 as ought to be expected under the circumstances. 
 
 It was not surprising, therefore, that young Jeter 
 should have recoiled from the idea of settling in a 
 community where he might, at any moment, inhale 
 the deadly miasma. I must confess, however, that 
 it was a little singular that after living for several 
 years in the swamps of Southeastern Virginia, he 
 should have been so afraid of the Northern Neck. 
 But we will let him tell the story of his first visit to 
 
THE NORTHERN NECK. 137 
 
 a community in which afterwards he was to play so 
 brilliant and conspicuous a part. 
 
 THE NORTHERN NECK. 
 
 The Peninsula between the Rappahannock and the Potomac 
 Rivers, bounded on the east by the Chesapeake Bay, is called the 
 Northern Neck, because it lies on the northern border of the State. 
 It is distinguished as the birth-place of Washington, Madison, 
 Monroe, the Lees and other persons famous in American his- 
 tory. It was consecrated in my eyes as the abode and field of 
 labor of Samuel L. Straughan and Louis Lunsford, two Baptist 
 ministers, who had left behind them a fragrant reputation. I 
 was desirous to visit the region, and occupy the pulpits honored 
 by the presence and the ministrations of these venerable men. 
 
 At the Dover Association, held in Essex County, in the year 
 1825, where I first saw John Kerr and Alexander Campbell, I 
 met several brethren from Lancaster County, seeking a pastor for 
 Morattico Baptist Church. Through their solicitation I made 
 arrangements to visit them at the close of the year. On Christ- 
 mas morning I left the city of Richmond, on horseback, in com- 
 pany with the late Rev. Addison Hall, not then a minister, but a 
 member of the Virginia Legislature, who availed himself of the 
 holidays to visit his family in Lancaster. There was nothing of 
 special interest in the trip; but my arrival in the Northern Neck 
 was an epoch in my life. It had no little influence on my des- 
 tiny. The Neck was to be, for some years, the scene of toils, 
 anxieties, pleasures and sorrows which were to exert a moulding 
 power over my character. 
 
 The first event that I remember, after reaching the peninsula, 
 was a trifle that might well have been forgotten. Colonel Hall, on 
 meeting one of his neighbors, said to him, " How are you, Mr. G.? " 
 "About," he said, "all to a bad cold." He was about, in spite of 
 his cold, with no mark of disease upon him. I afterwards found 
 the expression common among a people quite remarkable for the 
 purity of their English. 
 
 My first night in the Neck was passed at Merry Point, the 
 residence of my honorable guide. Here I met for the only time 
 Rev. Daniel Davis, of Fredericksburg, who was on a preaching 
 
138 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 tour through the Peninsula. He was a brother of Elder John 
 Davis, under whose ministry I had been awakened some years 
 before in Bedford County, of medium size, about sixty years old, 
 and of rather rugged appearance. He differed widely from his 
 brother John in spirit, views and manner of preaching. He was 
 not opposed to missions, but held extreme Calvinistic doctrines, 
 bordering on antinomianism. It was my misfortune to get into 
 such a controversy with him as I had had, a few years before, 
 with his namesake of Henry County. They bore, in many re- 
 spects, a striking resemblance to each other. They were both 
 endowed with vigorous minds, had small culture, held extreme 
 doctrinal views, were leaders in their respective spheres, impa- 
 tient of contradiction and overbearing in debate. I had not 
 proceeded far in the discussion before I was imperatively ordered 
 by my antagonist to hush. The command was probably wise ; 
 and, while I questioned his authority to issue it, I promptly 
 obeyed it. 
 
 Here I was first introduced to Deacon Rawleigh Dunaway, the 
 grandfather of Dr. Dunaway, of Fredericksburg, a man of pecu- 
 liar and striking qualities, one of the warmest friends that I have 
 had in the journey of life, and whom I shall have occasion to 
 mention again. 
 
 My first sermon in the Neck was preached to a good congrega- 
 tion in Lancaster Court-House, on the 1st day of January, 1826, 
 from the text, if I mistake not, Phil. iii. 8 : " Yea doubtless, and 
 I count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of 
 Christ Jesus my Lord." Of the sermon and of the occasion I re- 
 member but little. 
 
 On this visit to the Northern Neck I spent several weeks, and 
 preached at all the Baptist meeting-houses in Lancaster and 
 Northumberland, at Farnham Church in Richmond County, be- 
 sides in several private houses. The trip was to me, on various 
 accounts, interesting and pleasant. The people were hospitable, 
 kind and sociable. I formed an acquaintance with many brethren 
 notable for their intelligence, piety and usefulness, — disciples of 
 Straughan and Lunsford, whose memories were redolent in all 
 the region. Few could remember Lunsford ; but anecdotes of 
 the sermons, sayings and deeds of Straughan dwelt on almost 
 
THE NORTHERN NECK. 139 
 
 every tongue. He must have possessed a rare power of impress- 
 ing his hearers. I have seldom conversed with a man who heard 
 him preach that did not remember his text, his manner of treat- 
 ing it, and many of his illustrations and remarks. Yet I never 
 talked with a man who had heard both Straughan and Lunsford 
 preach, that did not give the preference to the latter. In judging, 
 however, of their comparative abilities, it should be remembered 
 that the witnesses heard Lunsford in their youth, while their 
 judgments were immature, and heard Straughan in their ma- 
 turity, when their taste was refined and their acumen was sharp- 
 ened by exercise. They were both extraordinary men for their 
 times and their circumstances. With small advantages for mental 
 culture and few sources of religious information, they became, 
 through the native vigor of their minds, their studious habits and 
 their close observation, preachers of rare eloquence, power and 
 success, who would have adorned the pulpit in any land and in 
 any age. I drank in with delight the stories of their labors and ' 
 achievements, and deemed it an honor to preach in the pulpits 
 which they consecrated, and to the congregations which once sat 
 under their enrapturing ministry. 
 
 After I had spent a short time in the Neck, I was invited to 
 the pastorate of Morattico Church. Its membership had been 
 much reduced since the days of Straughan ; but it was still 
 a respectable body, containing many estimable members. I 
 promptly declined the call, for three reasons. First: The region 
 was isolated, having, in those days, before it was visited by 
 steam-boats, but little intercourse with the rest of the world. It 
 was then quite a trip to get beyond the limits of the Peninsula. 
 Secondly : I feared the malarial diseases, more or less prevalent 
 every autumn. The apprehension was not imaginary. After 
 my settlement there I had several sharp and protracted biliary 
 attacks. Thirdly : The country was in an impoverished and 
 depressed condition. It had not recovered from the injuries in- 
 flicted on it by the then recent war with Great Britain. Perhaps 
 no portion of the United States had suffered more severely from 
 the conflict than the Northern Neck. The enemy kept a large 
 and unresisted fleet in the Chesapeake Bay during the war, and 
 the Neck was bordered on three sides by deep, navigable water, 
 
140 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 and intersected by many bold and undefended streams. It was 
 entirely at the mercy of the enemy ; and they made good, or 
 rather bad, use of their irresponsible power. A large number of 
 slaves was enticed away, many valuable dwellings were reduced 
 to ashes, the country was pillaged aad the inhabitants lived in 
 constant dread of arrest or spoliation. Many of the best and 
 most thrifty settlers, unwilling to live in such constant peril and 
 alarm, sold their lands at greatly reduced prices, or left them 
 without tenants and removed to the upper country. The Neck was 
 slowly recovering from the evils inflicted upon it by the war ; but 
 it was far from being what it was in the favored times of the 
 past, or what it became a few years afterwards. 
 
 From these considerations, I deemed it my duty and my in- 
 terest to decline the invitation so kindly extended to me. I left 
 the Neck, with many regrets, to return to my Sussex home. My 
 removal to Campbell County soon followed. I had no expec- 
 tation of residing in the Peninsula. God's thoughts are not as 
 our thoughts, neither are our ways his ways. Already influences 
 w r ere in operation which changed my purpose. These influences 
 I need not detail. After my short stay in Campbell, I removed, 
 in the autumn of 1827, to the Northern Neck, and I was in- 
 stalled pastor of Morattico Baptist Church, at Kilmarnock Meet- 
 ing-House, in Lancaster County. It was organized in the year 
 1778 by Lewis Lunsford, who continued his pastorate till near 
 the close of the century, when he was succeeded by Elder Jacob 
 Creath, for a few years, and afterwards by Straughan, who was 
 my immediate predecessor. The sermon on the occasion of my 
 installation was preached by Rev. Eli Ball, of Henrico County. 
 I do not remember the sermon or the text ; but they were deemed 
 appropriate to the occasion, and the services made a fine impres- 
 sion on the large congregation in attendance. 
 
 It had been more than six years from the death of Straughan 
 before I became pastor of Morattico church. During this time 
 a great change had taken place in the religious condition of the 
 community. The pulpit had been only occasionally, and not 
 very profitably, supplied with preaching. Wicomico Church, in 
 Northumberland County, had called to the pastorate a young 
 man, Rev. Eli S. Patterson, who died in a short time, leaving 
 
THE NORTHERN NECK. 141 
 
 the church entirely destitute of the regular ministrations of the 
 word. At the death of Straughan, the churches were large, 
 prosperous and aggressive; but in half a dozen years, receiving 
 no accessions, they had been greatly reduced in numbers by 
 deaths, removals and apostasies, and in efficiency by the lack of 
 instruction and leadership. 
 
 The Northern Neck was included within the limit of the Bal- 
 timore Methodist Conference, one of the ablest and best organ- 
 ized of all their conferences. It sent strong, earnest and active 
 ministers into the counties rendered vacant by the death of 
 Straughan. They penetrated every nook and corner of the 
 country, and wrought a great revolution in the religious views 
 and preferences of the people. A very large majority of the 
 population became Methodists, or were brought under Methodist 
 influence. 
 
 I commenced my labors in the Neck under great disadvan- 
 tages. Not only were the Methodists exerting a preponderating 
 influence, but preach when or where I might, my appointment 
 was almost sure to be in conflict with some Methodist meeting. 
 They, too, had almost invariably something to attract a congre- 
 gation beyond the simple merits of their preachers. Sometimes 
 circuit-riders would be preaching their introductory, and some- 
 times their valedictory, sermons. Quarterly meetings, camp- 
 meetings and other extraordinary services filled up almost every 
 Sunday, and constantly attracted the crowd. 
 
 One circumstance was much in my favor. Baptists were com- 
 paratively few ; but they were mostly of excellent quality. They 
 were gold tried in the fire. The unstable and the unprincipled 
 had been carried away as chaff before the wind ; but the sin- 
 cere, the firmly grounded and the devout remained as the well- 
 winnowed wheat. The Wicomico Church was soon included in 
 my pastorate, and no bishop ever had more confiding, affection- 
 ate, earnest and efficient helpers than I had. 
 
 I remained in the Northern Neck to the beginning of the 
 year 1836 — a little more than nine years. It was probably the 
 most important period of my life. A great and striking change 
 took place in the field of my labor during this period. I bap- 
 tized about one thousand persons, nearly an equal number of 
 
142 LIFE 0F JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 whites and of negroes. Among the whites were many of the 
 most intelligent, respectable and influential persons in the coun- 
 ties of Lancaster and Northumberland. My congregations be- 
 came large, and were intelligent and respectful as well as 
 respectable. Long before I left that region it was a matter 
 of indifference to me what new or old circuit-rider or popular 
 presiding elder was to preach in the vicinity of my meetings. 
 My congregations could not be materially diminished. 
 
 I may mention a fact illustrative of the change which had 
 taken place. During my residence in the Neck I was sued for 
 slander. Of all the events of my life, it seemed to be most pro- 
 motive of my interests. I need not give the details of the case. 
 The suit was brought on a misconception. I had not slandered 
 the plaintiff, but, if opportunity had offered, would have shown 
 him favor. There was, however, great excitement in the com- 
 munity on the subject, some favoring and some condemning me. 
 For my own part, I was thoroughly mortified and humbled. I 
 have never prayed so earnestly, never preached so pathetically, 
 and never labored so diligently as during that season of trial 
 and anxiety. Inquiry and a candid statement of the cause of 
 offence turned the public sympathy in my favor. A great reli- 
 gious revival ensued. I baptized a large number of the inhabit- 
 ants of the county. When the trial came on at Northumberland 
 Court-House, no jury could have been summoned indiscrimin- 
 ately the half of whom would not have been Baptists. The clerk 
 and sheriffs were Baptists. The judge directed the high sheriff, 
 some of whose family I had recently baptized, to summon a jury 
 that should have no Baptists on it, Faithfully, no doubt, he per- 
 formed the service, but summoned three or four persons whom I 
 expected to baptize at my next meeting in the neighborhood. 
 The suit broke down from the failure of the plaintiff to prove 
 the statements in his declaration; but had he been entitled to 
 damages, the jury would have been under a strong bias against 
 awarding them. 
 
 Several causes contributed to the success of my ministrations 
 in the Northern Neck. Among these, I may mention my per- 
 manent residence among the people. The circuit-riders were 
 mostly intelligent, pious and attractive preachers ; but they were 
 
THE NORTHERN NECK. 143 
 
 comparatively strangers. They did not remain on their circuits 
 long enough to become intimate with the people. While their 
 preaching had the attractiveness of novelty, they lacked the in- 
 fluence secured by friendship and intimacy. I met the people at 
 their court-houses, took part in measures designed to promote 
 their secular interests, visited them at their homes, sympathized 
 in their afflictions, rejoiced in their prosperity, and, in short, 
 became identified with them in interest. They considered me 
 not only as a Christian pastor, but as a fellow-citizen concerned 
 with themselves in the permanent welfare of the country. In 
 deciding whether they would attend my ministry or that of a 
 stranger, if their religious priuciples were not settled, they were 
 usually governed, not so much by a regard to talents or novelty, 
 as by friendship and sectional partiality. I became convinced 
 that in rural districts, at least, an itinerant ministry cannot 
 successfully compete with settled pastors of equal gifts and 
 activity. 
 
 It is also proper to state that my success in the Northern Neck 
 was largely due to the aid that I received from visiting minis- 
 ters. The camp-meetings, of which notice will be taken in 
 future articles, and other protracted religious services, in which 
 I was assisted by ministers of rare gifts for usefulness, had a 
 large share in building up the churches and turning public sen- 
 timent in favor of the Baptists. 
 
 The period of my residence in the Northern Neck was proba- 
 bly the time most potential in the formation of my character 
 and the development of my gifts, of which, by the way, I have 
 no cause to boast. I had full scope for the exercise of my 
 powers. I labored diligently and faithfully, and never preached 
 a sermon which I did not think I could excel, and which I did 
 not earnestly endeavor to excel. By such reading as my desul- 
 tory and constant labors would permit, by diligent studies, per- 
 formed chiefly on horseback or in a sulky, and by the frequent 
 exercise of my gifts, I made such attainments in knowledge and 
 in the art of employing it usefully as I could. I mention these 
 facts for the encouragement of young men, who, thirsting for 
 knowledge, that they may be useful, with small opportunities for 
 its acquirement, may find some inspiration in my example. 
 
144 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 A singular event occurred in my ministry while I lived in the 
 Neck. I had an appointment to preach at White Chapel, in 
 the upper end of Lancaster County. It was an old colonial 
 edifice, large, much out of repair and little used. The day was 
 showery ; but the congregation, considering the weather, was 
 good. My text was Luke xiii. 24 : " Strive to enter in at the 
 strait gate; for many, I say unto you, will seek to enter iu, 
 and shall not be able." I had proceeded some distance in my 
 discourse with usual freedom, when a large mass of plaster, more 
 than two feet square and several inches thick, fell from the lofty 
 ceiling, just grazing me in its descent. Had it fallen on my 
 head, it would probably have killed me, or would certainly have 
 stunned and seriously wounded me. I was alarmed; but finding 
 the danger over, I quickly proceeded to make extempore re- 
 marks, suggested by the event, on the perils to which we are 
 constantly exposed, the uncertainty of life and the importance of 
 being always prepared for our end. 
 
 At that period of my ministry I preached, not without careful 
 preparation for the work, but without taking notes into the pul- 
 pit. On this occasion I had read my text shut up the Bible 
 and had no memento of my discourse. When I had finished my 
 unpremeditated remarks, I essayed to re-commence my sermon ; 
 but all recollection of the text and subject was entirely effaced 
 from my mind. I stood and endeavored to recall the theme of 
 my discourse. My efforts were vain, and my situation was be- 
 coming more and more embarrassing. I turned to the left, 
 where sat my friend Deacon Dunaway, and asked him if he 
 could tell me what I was preaching about. He seemed to be 
 paralyzed, or rather petrified, by the question. He sat with his 
 eyes and mouth stretched wide open, without moving a muscle. 
 Pie would have been a model of a perplexed mind for an artist. 
 Finding no help from that source, I gradually turned to the 
 right. Deacon Norris, a careful hearer, and noted for remem- 
 bering the texts of sermons, seeing that I was directing my eyes 
 toward him, cast his head down on the back of the pew before 
 him, — as much as to say " Don't ask me for your text." So 
 thoroughly were the congregation in sympathy with me in the 
 alarm caused by the falling of the plaster, and the remarks 
 
THE NORTHERN NECK. 145 
 
 which the event had suggested, that probably not one of them 
 remembered my text. 
 
 Just as I was about to take my seat, the text and my discourse 
 flashed on my mind, and I commenced my remarks precisely at 
 the point at which they had been interrupted, and finished my 
 sermon with freedom and a solemnity perhaps intensified by the 
 danger which I had escaped. 
 
 As he states in the foregoing paper, Dr. Jeter 
 removed to the Northern Neck in the autumn of 
 1827. It will be noticed that he mentions that he 
 was " installed " as the pastor of his new charge. 
 This term he did not hesitate to use in describing 
 those public services which were held upon the 
 occasion of a pastor's entrance upon a new field of 
 labor. In recent years the use of this word by Bap- 
 tists has been strongly denounced ; but Dr. Jeter, 
 who was an adept in the use of terms, seems to have 
 employed it without the faintest suspicion as to its 
 propriety. 
 
 His residence in the Northern Neck was pre-emi- 
 nently the time of his growth. Dr. J. A. Flippo, 
 now an honored physician of Caroline County, Vir- 
 ginia, was a resident of the Northern Neck at the 
 time that Dr. Jeter was the pastor of the Morattico 
 Church. He was then a small boy, but as his father 
 was a devoted member of the church, he was brought 
 in frequent contact with the pastor. He remembers 
 him as an eager and industrious student. It seems 
 that he was then particularly ambitious to make 
 himself master of the English language. He studied 
 the grammar with intense zeal, and was greatly in- 
 terested in the origin, history, structure and meaning 
 10 
 
146 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 of words. If he met a school-boy, he would exam- 
 ine his books, and ask him questions, in the hope of 
 adding something to his stock of knowledge by the 
 exercise. Dr. Flippo remembers that on one occa- 
 sion he heard him challenge a youth to parse a given 
 sentence. In the progress of his effort, the boy 
 described some verb as ur-regular. Jeter promptly 
 arrested him with the question : " Does your teacher 
 call that ur-regular or ir-regular ?" It was impossi- 
 ble for him to hear a word uttered, without beginning 
 at once to examine it, so that he might know how to 
 pronounce it, what it meant, and when it could be 
 properly used. He searched books, conferred with 
 educated men, and, indeed, seized every opportunity 
 for perfecting his knowledge of his native tongue. 
 
 He was equally pains-taking in the matter of 
 spelling. As he was the victor in the spelling match 
 in the Bedford school, he continued to advance in 
 the art of spelling even to the end of his life. He 
 would not write a word, if he was the least doubtful 
 as to its correct spelling. He made a companion of 
 his dictionary, and consulted it on all occasions. 
 Dr. Flippo says that even in those early days of 
 Jeter's life he was distinguished for the accuracy of 
 his speech. This explains his critical habit. He 
 gained much of his acquaintance with the English 
 language by conversation with others. He was ever 
 on the lookout for new words and correct methods 
 of speech. This he did for his own improvement, 
 but he was equally honest in his wish to aid others. 
 If they spoke incorrectly, he thought it was according 
 to the Golden Rule for him to point out their mis- 
 
THE NORTHERN NECK. 147 
 
 take. He had a critical ear, and could not easily 
 permit a sin against correct speech to go unrebuked. 
 
 It is known that Dr. Jeter, in time, became in an 
 eminent degree a master of English. He possessed 
 a large vocabulary of the choicest words. He spoke 
 and wrote with marvellous perspicuity, felicity and 
 force. His style was hardly inferior in its beauty or 
 variety to that of Addison or Washington Irving. 
 This ripened acquaintanceship with language was 
 the result of long and earnest study. He gained it 
 by his own efforts, and that, too, under manifold 
 difficulties. 
 
 He was exceedingly popular as a preacher in the 
 Northern Neck. While he lived there he was visited 
 by many distinguished ministers. The people heard 
 them with high satisfaction, but it was the verdict 
 of the community that not one of them surpassed 
 him in pulpit ability. He was then vigorous in 
 health, full of fiery enthusiasm, and careful in the 
 preparation of his sermons. He won completely the 
 hearts of his people, and had the inspiration of a 
 truly phenomenal success. An intelligent and spirit- 
 ual-minded old deacon, after hearing Kerr, Taylor 
 and other famous men, said : " They preach well, 
 but they can't cope with Brother Jeter." 
 
 Dr. Flippo ventures a suggestion which probably 
 helps to explain the rapidity with which Jeter grew 
 in those days. He says that Straughan and Luns- 
 ford had made a lasting impression upon the North- 
 ern Neck people. They accounted them men of un- 
 surpassed power, and never wearied of their praises. 
 When young Jeter entered the field, he found the 
 
148 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 names of these, two preachers upon almost every lip, 
 and always spoken in terms of admiration. He 
 felt the delicacy and embarrassment of his situation. 
 He could not brook the idea of being brought in 
 unfavorable contrast with his predecessors. He was 
 fired with a spirit of emulation, and was made a 
 better preacher by reason of the fact that he stood 
 as the successor of such illustrious men. He entered 
 upon life with the simple resolution, always " to do 
 his best," and he would have done well under the 
 most adverse conditions, and yet, Dr. Flippo is 
 probably right in believing that the high encomiums 
 which were constantly pronounced upon Straughan 
 and Lunsford in his hearing became fuel to the 
 flame of his youthful ambition. 
 
 A friend relates a pleasant story of his father, who 
 was one of Jeter's regular hearers. The old brother 
 was one of the most ardent admirers of the young 
 preacher. He never failed to hear him, and seemed 
 to take in his sermons bodily. It was his custom, 
 upon returning home, to regale his household by 
 repeating the sermons. This he did in the greatest 
 detail. He would read the text, and then beginning 
 with the exordium, he would give every division, 
 every sub-division, every illustration, every eloquent 
 flight, and re-produce even the gestures and tones of 
 the preacher. This was a remarkable exploit on the 
 part of the man himself, and a fine tribute to the 
 simplicity and magnetism of the pastor. 
 
 The Northern Neck people always claimed Dr. 
 Jeter as their peculiar property. They believed, 
 and not without reason, that they made him what 
 
THE NORTHERN NECK. 149 
 
 he was. Tt was a high day when, in after-years, he 
 would visit them, and they always gave him a great 
 welcome. But some of them openly maintained that 
 he never preached so well after he left the Neck. 
 They found a sort of grudging pleasure in believing 
 that in his removal to Richmond, a first-class preacher 
 was spoiled in order to make a metropolitan pastor. 
 Perhaps they were not altogether wrong. There is 
 a freedom and independence in a country preacher's 
 life peculiarly favorable to the highest forms of pul- 
 pit power. The town preacher may have more 
 polish and art, and work more rapidly, but his 
 strains and burdens are not friendly to the attain- 
 ment of the highest eloquence. 
 
 It is no disparagement to Dr. Jeter to say, that 
 for no small part of that almost unprecedented suc- 
 cess which attended his labors in the Neck, he was 
 indebted to the ministers who aided him in his camp- 
 meetings. He often confessed that he was sadly 
 deficient in that "converting power" for which 
 Daniel Witt was so famous. Not that he lacked 
 power with the unconverted. lie was so logical, 
 direct and impassioned that he could not fail to be 
 impressive. Many persons were brought to Christ 
 under his preaching, but there were some phases of 
 ministerial work in which he was more effective than 
 in converting people. He was not a great revivalist. 
 
 It is one mark of his unconscious candor, that in 
 his " Recollections " of the camp-meetings, he awards 
 the human glory of their success to others. He 
 rarely ever wrote anything more refreshing than the 
 following accounts of his camp-meetings : 
 
150 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 NORTHERN NECK CAMP-MEETINGS. 
 
 The year 1831 is memorable for the number, power and extent 
 of the revivals among the Baptist Churches in Virginia. During 
 the summer I aided Rev. James B.Taylor in a series of meetings 
 held in the Second Baptist Church, Richmond, the fruits of which 
 were abundant and very valuable. I was desirous that Brethren 
 Taylor and Kerr should assist me in meetings in the Northern 
 Neck. A camp-meeting having been recently conducted in Hali- 
 fax County, I think, with great success, they proposed, if the 
 brethren in the Neck would prepare for holding a camp-meeting, 
 to attend it. On my return, I laid the proposal before the 
 churches. They greatly desired a visit from the ministers — espe- 
 cially from Kerr, of whom they had heard much, and few of them 
 had seen ; but against a camp-meeting they had earnest objections. 
 It had long been an annual meeting among the Methodists, and 
 conducted, as was supposed, with many extravagances. Between 
 the desire for a visit from Kerr and Taylor and the aversion to a 
 camp-meeting, the brethren were much perplexed and divided. 
 As the discussion of the subject added to the confusion, it was 
 agreed that the question should be decided by lot. After earnest 
 prayer for divine guidance, the lot was cast, and the decision was 
 in favor of the meeting. All promptly acquiesced in it! 
 
 The meeting was held near Lancaster Court-House, at a place 
 called Ball's Woods, where the Methodists had made permanent 
 arrangements for their annual camp-meeting. At the appointed 
 time quite a fair proportion of the members of Morattico and 
 Wicomico Churches were on the ground, prepared for the services. 
 True to their appointment, Brethren Kerr and Taylor, accom- 
 panied by Rev. Eli Ball and other ministers, made their appear- 
 ance. The situation was so singular, and so much at variance 
 with the views and tastes which had long prevailed among the 
 brethren, that they could scarcely look one another in the face 
 without laughing. There had been much prayer for the success 
 of the meeting. A few were hopeful, many were in doubt and 
 some predicted an utter failure. The first service was held, I 
 think, on Friday afternoon. I do not remember who preached; 
 but there was nothing remarkable in the sermon. At its close, 
 persons were invited to come forward for prayer. About twenty 
 
THE NORTHERN NECK. 151 
 
 inquirers accepted the invitation, most of them heads of families, 
 and several of them among the most respectable and influential 
 members of the community. Instantly all doubt of the success 
 of the meeting vanished ; and from that moment the hearts, 
 tongues and hands of all the brethren and sisters were united to 
 promote its interests. I have never seen a meeting open with 
 such cheering prospects of success. It proceeded with increasing 
 interest until Saturday night. 
 
 At this time a rain commenced, which, for its abundance and 
 duration, probably exceeded any that I have ever known. It was 
 a young flood. The roads were converted into streams, the 
 streams were swelled into rivers, the mills were swept away, and 
 the whole country was covered with water. The encampment 
 was not prepared for such a deluge. The cabins leaked like rid- 
 dles, and the water ran in a great sluice through the camp. To 
 keep dry was impossible. The beds, bed-clothing and raiment 
 of the people were all moistened or saturated by the rain. All 
 religious services at the stand were suspended, and those held in 
 the tents were greatly interrupted. It was a notable fact that 
 among the persons encamped on the ground were some in delicate 
 health, who could not bear without injury, as they supposed, the 
 slightest exposure to inclement weather. They could not leave 
 the place, and were compelled to fare like the rest. They slept 
 between wet sheets, and were constantly exposed to the pitiless 
 storm. Their death was judged to be inevitable ; but not one 
 of them, so far as I could learn, suffered any damage from the 
 exposure, and some of them were decidedly benefited by it. 
 
 One remarkable preservation deserves to be recorded. There 
 was a wide-spreading oak near the preachers' stand, around 
 which, when the weather would permit, a crowd was constantly 
 assembled. At a time when it was not raining, the tree was 
 struck and barked by a flash of lightning. Not an individual 
 was hurt. The flash occurred at the dinner hour, when all were 
 drawn from the lounging-place. At another time a dozen or 
 twenty lives might have been destroyed. 
 
 The rain continued to the close of the meeting, but its results 
 were most cheering. About forty-five persons professed con- 
 version, but the importance of the meeting was to be estimated by 
 
152 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 the quality rather than the number of the converts. Scarcely 
 any of them were children or youth, more than twenty were heads 
 of families, and half a dozen were prominent citizens. They re- 
 sided in different portions of the Neck, and exerted a mighty and 
 beneficent influence so long as I remained there. 
 
 One case is entitled to special notice. John Grinstead, of 
 Northumberland, was, in several respects, a remarkable man. 
 He was more than six feet high, weighed upwards of three hun- 
 dred and fifty pounds, and had the strength of an ox. He was a 
 good-natured, genial, pleasant companion, full of all manner of 
 pranks and mischief. In comfortable worldly circumstances, he 
 devoted himself to amusements, and was a ringleader in all kinds 
 of sports and frolics. He was not intemperate, but far from being 
 a teetotaler. He was not specially wicked, but his influence was 
 decidedly hostile to piety. No man in the county had more or 
 warmer friends than Grinstead. He had recently lost a pious 
 daughter, who, on her dying bed, had pleaded with him to be- 
 come religious, and had probably secured from him the pledge 
 that he would attend to the interests of his soul. He appeared at 
 the meeting at its commencement, though residing at a distance 
 of more than twenty miles from it, was among the first to come 
 forward for prayer, and was joyfully converted before the close 
 of the meeting. The news of his conversion spread rapdly 
 through the Neck, and an earthquake would scarcely have pro- 
 duced a greater sensation. I have never known an instance of 
 conversion the moral effects of which were more obvious, wide- 
 spread and momentous than was that of Grinstead. Nobody 
 doubted his sincerity. No feeble power, it was universally con- 
 ceded, could have wrought so great a change in one so devoted to 
 pleasure and dissipation as he was. As an army becomes de- 
 moralized and panic-stricken when a great general falls at the 
 commencement of a battle, so the devotees of pleasure and the 
 sons of frolic and fun were terrified and lost heart when Grin- 
 stead, their leader, deserted their cause and enlisted under the 
 opposing banner. In a short time I baptized him in Coan River, 
 where there was much water for the purpose, and to the end 
 of his life he continued an earnest, upright and consistent 
 Christian. 
 
THE NORTHERN NECK. 153 
 
 This meeting, held under almost unparalleled disadvantages, 
 slew all the prejudices against camp-meetings among the Baptists 
 in the lower end of the Northern Neck. Those who had most 
 stoutly opposed it became its warm friends. It was seen that, 
 conducted under favorable circumstances, and with proper order 
 and prudence, by ministers commanding the respect of the com- 
 munity and wielding an influence over it, it was eminently 
 adapted to be useful. It was at once resolved to have a camp- 
 meeting the next year, provide ample accommodation for families 
 and guests, and guard against the discomforts of the present 
 meeting. 
 
 This camp-meeting gave a strong impulse to the Baptist cause 
 in the Neck. The converts were about equally divided between 
 Morattico and Wicomico Churches. Their baptism at different 
 places awakened a lively interest and inspired the brethren and 
 sisters with fresh zeal in the Master's cause. It was the com- 
 mencement of a new era among the Baptists of that region, and 
 led to the adoption of more extended plans for the promotion of 
 their cause 
 
 One event must not be overlooked. At this meeting, Henri- 
 etta, daughter of the late Rev. Addison Hall, afterwards Mrs. 
 Shuck, the first American female missionary to China, was con- 
 verted. She had just returned from a school in Fredericksburg 
 to pass her vacation at home. She was among the first converts 
 at the meeting. Her convictions of sin were pungent, her feel- 
 ings intense, and her deliverance joyful. She ascribed her first 
 permanent religious impressions to a question propounded to her 
 by her pious teacher, Mrs. Little: "Where will you be a hun- 
 dred years hence ? " It awakened in her bosom serious medita- 
 tion, a sense of accountability to God, and a conviction of her 
 guilt and danger, which, by the divine blessing, led her to repent- 
 ance and prepared her for a happy reception of the gospel. She 
 commenced on the camp-ground, among her young associates, the 
 evangelical work which, with constantly increasing fervor and 
 fidelity she continued to the close of her eventful life. She was 
 baptized at Waverly, the family residence in Lancaster, in the 
 presence of a deeply impressed audience. In her last letter, writ- 
 ten from China a few hours before her death, she referred with 
 
154 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 pleasure to this solemn act of her life: "'Twas you, my dear 
 Brother Jeter, who led me into the liquid grave. Oh ! how well 
 I remember that day, that precious day, and the dear friends 
 (some, yea, many of them now departed — 1844) who accompanied 
 me to the water's edge." 
 
 We have already stated that the brethren resolved at the first 
 camp-meetiug to hold a second. The ground selected for it 
 was nearly equidistant from the court-houses of Lancaster and 
 Northumberland, and not far from the line dividing them. It 
 was in a primeval forest, and on a ridge, at the foot of which 
 there was a bold and perennial spring. Neither expense nor 
 pains were spared in preparing the encampment. It was a 
 square. On one side of it were the preacher's tent and the stand 
 for preaching. In front of the stand were arranged seats for the 
 accommodation of a large congregation. Around the square 
 were erected substantial, water-proof cabins, suited to the warm 
 summer weather. Quite a large assembly could find comforta- 
 ble lodgings on the ground. 
 
 The meeting was anticipated with great hopefulness and no 
 little anxiety. Kerr, Taylor and many other ministers were 
 present at it. Of its services and progress I remember but little. 
 One scene, however, I distinctly recollect. The services had 
 been going on some time, and the prospects were not very bright. 
 The morning prayer-meeting was addressed by Kerr. He was 
 in his best mood, and delivered an overwhelming exhortation. 
 He urged the brethren to retire to the surrounding forest, and 
 make private and importunate prayer for the conversion of their 
 friends. At the close of the service, the brethren, greatly affected 
 and moved by the appeal, dispersed in every direction, singly 
 and in small companies, to present their prayers to God. For 
 hundreds of yards around the encampment, the forest resounded 
 with the low, solemn voice of supplication. Persons coming to 
 the meeting, retiring from it or going into the forest for any pur- 
 pose, could not avoid the sound of prayer. A solemn and ear- 
 nest tone of piety was imparted to the meeting, and it proceeded 
 with unabated interest and power to its close. 
 
 At the termination of the meeting, all who had found peace in 
 believing since its commencement were requested to come for- 
 
THE NORTHERN NECK. 155 
 
 ward and occupy appropriated seats. About one hundred and 
 forty promptly presented themselves ; of these, ninety were 
 males, most of them of mature age, many of them heads of 
 families, and several of- them persons of prominence and influ- 
 ence in the community. Most of these, in a few weeks, were 
 baptized, and became members of the contiguous churches, add- 
 ing much to their strength and efficiency, as well as to their 
 numbers. Nor do these statements indicate the full results of 
 the meeting. The converts who came forward on the invitation 
 were not all the trophies of grace secured by the services. Some 
 of them had left before the close ; others, cherishing hope, lacked 
 confidence to present themselves as subjects of grace, and not a 
 few had received impressions which ripened, in after-times, into 
 piety. The close of the meeting was a most inspiring scene, and 
 indicated as large a measure of success as I have ever known to 
 follow a week's religious services. 
 
 While I continued in the Northern Neck, a meeting was held 
 every year on the camp-ground described above, with varying, 
 but always with gratifying success. The meeting of 1834 de- 
 serves special attention. In that year the Congregational Union 
 of England and Wales sent Drs. Andrew Reed and James 
 Matheson to visit their brethren in this country. Dr. Reed, to 
 extend his inquiries and make observations on the religious con- 
 dition of the country, attended the Baptist camp-meeting of the 
 Northern Neck. He was one of the most eloquent and popular 
 of the dissenting London pastors. He was in the prime of life, 
 of medium height, rather corpulent, an unmistakable English- 
 man, but fairer and of more delicate appearance than his coun- 
 trymen usually are. His dress, manners and conversation gave 
 proof of his intelligence and refinement. His arrival awakened 
 a lively interest in the congregation, and in the surrounding 
 country. He was invited to preach, and somewhat reluctantly 
 consented to do so ; for he was fatigued from travelling, and had 
 been much broken of his rest. 
 
 A large congregation was assembled to hear him. The weather 
 was propitious. Everything was favorable to a pleasant service. 
 Earnest prayer had been offered for the divine blessing on it ; 
 deep solemnity pervaded the audience, and all were intent to 
 
156 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 hear a London preacher. At eleven o'clock a. m. the doctor 
 arose in the stand, and took for his text Acts iii. 19: "When 
 the times of refreshing shall come from the presence of the 
 Lord." Of the matter of the sermon I remember but little ; but 
 of its manner and its effect I have a vivid recollection. It was 
 delivered without vociferation, but in a clear, well-sustained 
 voice, growing more earnest and tender from the beginning to 
 the end. It was not profound, not sublime, not overpowering ; 
 but it was pertinent, plain, eloquent, evangelical, impressive. I 
 have heard greater sermons, but rarely a more faultless and fas- 
 cinating one. It was heard throughout the large assembly with 
 almost breathless attention, w T ith a deepening interest and few 
 tears, but with a strong undercurrent of feeling. At the close of 
 the sermon a most remarkable scene occurred. I will allow 
 the doctor to describe it, as he drew the picture, when its im- 
 pression was fresh upon his mind, in his report to the body 
 which had sent him to this country : 
 
 " There were not less than one thousand five hundred persons 
 assembled. Mr. Taylor offered fervent and suitable prayer. It 
 remained for me to preach. I can only say that I did so with 
 earnestness and freedom. I soon felt that I had the attention 
 and confidence of the congregation, and this gave me confidence. 
 I took care, in passing, as my subject allowed, to withdraw my 
 attention from anything noisy and exclamatory, and there was, 
 throughout the discourse, nothing of the kind ; but there was a 
 growing attention and stillness over the people. The closing 
 statements and appeals were evidently falling on the conscience 
 and heart with advancing power. The people generally leaned 
 forward to catch what was said. Many rose from their seats, 
 and many, stirred with grief, sunk down as if to hide themselves 
 from observation ; but all was perfectly still. Silently the tear 
 fell, and silently the sinner shuddered. I ceased. Nobody 
 moved. I looked around to the ministers for some one to give 
 out a hymn. No one looked at me; no one moved. Every 
 moment the silence, the stillness, became more solemn and over- 
 powering. Now, here and there, might be heard suppressed 
 sobbing arising on the silence. But it could be suppressed no 
 longer ; the fountains of feeling were burst open, and one uni- 
 
THE NOKTHERN NECK. 157 
 
 versal wail sprung from the people and ministers, while the 
 whole mass sank down on their knees, as if imploring some one 
 to pray. I stood resting on the desk, overwhelmed like the peo- 
 ple. The presiding pastor arose, and, throwing his arms around 
 my neck, exclaimed : ' Pray, brother, pray ! I fear many of 
 my charge will be found at the left hand of the Judge ! Oh, 
 pray, brother ! pray for us !' And then he cast himself on the 
 floor with his brethren to join in the prayer. But I could not 
 pray ! I must have been more or less than man to have uttered 
 prayer at that moment! Nor was it necessary. All in that 
 hour were intercessors with God, with tears and cries and groans 
 unutterable. So soon as I could command my state of feeling, 
 I tried to offer prayer. My broken voice rose gradually on the 
 troubled cries of the people, and gradually they subsided, so 
 that they could hear and concur in the common supplications. 
 It ceased, and the people rose. . . . 
 
 " Thus closed the most remarkable service that I have ever 
 witnessed. It has been my privilege to see more of the solemn 
 and powerful effect of divine truth on large bodies of people than 
 many; but I never saw anything equal to this, — so deep, so 
 overpowering, so universal." — Christian Library, 640. 
 
 The above is a very fair account of the scene, except that, I 
 think, the request for prayer by the pastor preceded the general 
 outburst of feeling in the congregation. It was a very remark- 
 able scene. I have observed deeper and more abiding impres- 
 sions made on large audiences by the preaching of the gospel ; 
 but I have never seen so sudden and general and overwhelming 
 an effect produced on a great assembly as occurred at the close 
 of the doctor's sermon. Its results it was difficult to estimate. 
 The emotions produced were generally as transient as they were 
 intense. The meeting was less successful than were those of 
 previous years ; but still its fruits called for great gratitude to 
 the Giver of all good. From fifty to seventy persons professed 
 to find salvation through faith in Christ. 
 
 It may be proper for me to present my own views, the result 
 of no inconsiderable experience, on the expediency of holding 
 camp-meetings. They may be adopted widely or unwisely, ac- 
 cording to circumstances. In a sparsely-settled country, under 
 
158 EIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 good religious influence, where the grounds and its surroundings 
 are controlled by the friends of good order, where comfortable 
 arrangements are made for the entertainment of an assembly, 
 where public sentiment is sufficiently strong for the suppression 
 of disorder, and where the ministers have gifts and influence for 
 properly conducting such a meeting, it may, by God's blessing, 
 be eminently useful. Some of the best, if not the very best, 
 meetings which I have attended were camp-meetings. There is, 
 however, great danger, certainly in Virginia, that they will be 
 perverted to evil. There is a strong tendency to make them 
 occasions of social pleasure, festivity, and even of frivolity, dissi- 
 pation and vice. Satan usually attends camp-meetings, and 
 musters and trains his servants for mischief; and much care, 
 discretion and firmness of purpose is needed to restrain the ten- 
 dencies to evil. 
 
 Dr. Jeter mentions that his proposition to hold a 
 camp-meeting in the Northern Neck excited opposi- 
 tion, and that after some discussion it was decided to 
 settle the question by lot. Dr. William H. Kirk, one 
 of the greatest friends that Dr. Jeter ever had, his 
 beloved son in the gospel, and for many years a use- 
 ful Baptist minister, gave me a peculiarly thrilling 
 account of that contest between Jeter and several of 
 his leading brethren. Jeter had then been in the 
 Northern Neck for several years, and had become 
 very influential. He was not an obstinate man, for 
 he was always candid and conservative. But when 
 he believed a thing, he believed it thoroughly, and it 
 was not easy to move him. He was fearless and de- 
 termined. He was not afraid to fight, provided there 
 was something to fight for. 
 
 In 1831 he attended the General Association in 
 Petersburg, Virginia. There he met with John Kerr 
 and James B. Taylor, who gave him a stirring account 
 
THE NORTHERN NECK. 159 
 
 of a camp-meeting which they attended the previous 
 summer in Halifax County. Instantly he decided to 
 attempt a similar meeting in his field, and invited 
 those brethren to assist him. This they readily con- 
 sented to do. It never occurred to him that his 
 people might have some opinions of their own on the 
 subject of camp-meetings. He tarried in Richmond 
 to aid Brother Taylor in a meeting at the Second 
 Baptist Church, and authorized Dr. Kirk, who had 
 accompanied him to Petersburg, to return to the 
 Northern Neck and inform his people of the proposed 
 meeting. In a few weeks he returned to his home, 
 jubilant in spirit, in view of the camp-meeting soon 
 to be held. Upon his arrival he was greatly startled 
 by the news that some of his brethren were violently 
 opposed to the meeting. He was brought to a pain- 
 ful pause. He knew not what to do, and took time 
 for reflection. He found himself confronted by 
 some of his best personal friends, whom he could not 
 afford to offend. At length he resolved that he 
 would fight the battle for the meeting. The church 
 was called together to settle the question. Each side 
 was eager for the fray, and yet uneasy as to the 
 issue. The discussion was earnest and prolonged, 
 and threatened to end in bad blood. 
 
 At last a motion was carried in favor of settling 
 the question by lot. The brethren retired in a body 
 from the church, and went into a grove, where earn- 
 est prayer was offered for divine direction. Two 
 slips of paper were prepared, on one of which was 
 written " Meeting," and on the other " No Meeting," 
 and these were placed in a hat. For some reason a 
 
160 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 blind old brother (named Oliver, I believe) was 
 chosen to do the drawing. He thrust in his hand 
 and drew out one of the papers, while the breathless 
 company awaited the result. The lot favored the 
 pastor, and the meeting was agreed upon. The de- 
 cision was accepted in good faith, and a committee 
 was appointed to arrange for the meeting. 
 
 There was one brother whose surrender was not 
 quite unconditional. The two most formidable an- 
 tagonists of the meeting had been Deacon Rawley 
 Dunnaway and Col. Addison Hall. The latter was 
 a prominent citizen and a true Christian gentleman, 
 but he was then comparatively young, self-willed 
 and sorely chafed by the result of the lot. He could 
 not quite acquiesce, and perhaps was not so anxious 
 for the meeting to succeed as he ought to have been. 
 In the course of the preparations there came a hitch 
 which unsettled things and revived his hope that the 
 whole scheme might miscarry. He approached Dea- 
 con Dunnaway and said : " Brother Dunnaway, we 
 can break up this meeting now, if we will act to- 
 gether." The old man shook his head and replied, 
 with great solemnity : " Don't talk to me about that, 
 Col. Hall ; I was as much opposed to the meeting as 
 I could be, but we left it to the Lord, and He went 
 against us, and now I am in for the meeting." 
 
 That settled it. In due time the preachers came 
 and the meeting was held. The Spirit of the Lord 
 was present in a wonderful measure, and many were 
 brought to Christ. There was a thrilling and memor- 
 able episode in the beginning of the meeting. At 
 the first service there were about twenty conversions, 
 
THE NORTHERN NECK. 161 
 
 and the first of these was a daughter of Col. Hall, 
 who afterwards became a missionary to China. From 
 that day Brother Hall was always an ardent cham- 
 pion of camp-meetings. 
 
 While Jeter withstood the first appeal of the 
 Northern Neck people to become their pastor, he at 
 least met one during his first visit to that country 
 whose charms he could not resist. That was Miss 
 Margaret P. Waddy, of Northumberland County, 
 Va., to whom he was married October 5th, 1826. 
 At that time he was residing in Campbell, and when 
 he went to claim his bride, he took with him his be- 
 loved Daniel Witt, by whom his first nuptial vows 
 were sealed. Alas ! his new joy speedily perished. 
 The lady of his choice was of slender frame and frail 
 constitution, and in a few months she fell suddenly 
 sick, and soon after sank to her grave. 
 
 Concerning this first partner of his life, I have 
 been able to gain very little information. She was 
 the bride of his youth and linked her fate with his in 
 the days of his obscurity, when he was yet homeless 
 and uncrowned. Her death overwhelmed him with 
 sorrow, and he lamented her loss with great bitter- 
 ness of soul. To the end of his life he tenderly 
 cherished her memory. His testimony was that she 
 was a woman of marked gifts and superior intelli- 
 gence. 
 
 At the time of his removal to the Northern 
 Neck, during the later months of 1827, he was a 
 widower. It is not surprising that he did not remain 
 in that condition long. In his tastes and affections 
 he was thoroughly domestic. While aspiring, busy 
 11 
 
162 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 and wedded to public life, he yearned for the com- 
 forts and sympathies of home. A woman's love was 
 the necessary complement of his being, and without 
 it his life was one-sided and intolerable. It was not 
 the lack of heart, but rather the warmth and purity 
 of his heart, which turned his thoughts again to 
 matrimony. 
 
 This time the lady who gained his affections was 
 Miss Sarah Ann Gaskins. Her father belonged to a 
 family of high rank whose name had formerly been 
 Gaskoins. There is a tradition that there was 
 another family in the community of the same name, 
 but of questionable character. This was an occasion 
 of chagrin and grief to the genuine Gaskoins stock. 
 
 To escape the suspicion of being in any degree 
 akin to the other and less reputable family, they 
 changed their name to that of Gaskins. The sequel 
 was a disappointment. It was the finishing stroke 
 to their humiliation when they ascertained soon 
 afterwards that the other Gaskoins had also bloomed 
 out into Gaskins. 
 
 The second Mrs. Jeter was the daughter of Mr. 
 Eichard Gaskins, who was a devoted member of the 
 Morattico Church. He was a man of melancholy 
 temperament, and so distressingly dismal in his man- 
 ners that his brethren nicknamed him " Brother 
 Hyppo." Soon after Brother Jeter went to that coun- 
 try to live, he and this brother were actors in a very 
 ludicrous occurrence. After his sermon on Sunday 
 morning, Jeter called on Brother Flippo to lead in 
 prayer, but that was a thing which up to that time 
 Brother Flippo had not learned to do. In his terror 
 
THE NORTHERN NECK. 163 
 
 he turned about to find some brother to act as his 
 substitute, and hit upon Brother Gaskins. As soon 
 as the prayer commenced, the people, who had never 
 heard Brother Flippo pray, were struck with the 
 resemblance between his voice and that of Brother 
 Gaskins. In their surprise and curiosity they raised 
 their heads to see how matters were going. They 
 found that it was not Flippo, but Gaskins who was 
 making the prayer. And then it broke suddenly 
 upon them that Brother Jeter had forgotten himself 
 to the extent of calling Brother Gaskins by the name 
 of "Hyppo." Such an odd conjuncture of surprises 
 at a moment so solemn upset the risibles of the con- 
 gregation and played havoc with the proprieties of 
 the occasion. 
 
 Miss Sarah Gaskins is reported to have been of 
 medium size and attractive person. She was thor- 
 oughly amiable in her temper and had enjoyed 
 unusual educational advantages. She had, however, 
 two characteristics which put her at great disadvan- 
 tage. For one thing, she was shy, sensitive and 
 shrinking. While a loyal and affectionate wife and 
 always anxious to please her husband, she dreaded 
 society. She had little confidence in herself, and 
 was always .uneasy lest she should speak unadvis- 
 edly or do some unseemly thing. She trembled at 
 the coming of company, for fear something in the 
 domestic machinery might not go well. On this 
 account her ever hospitable husband often denied 
 himself the pleasure of entertaining his brethren. 
 As a fact, he was not more hospitable than she. 
 The difference was that he made companions of his 
 
164 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 guests, while she became their servant, and always 
 served with fear. 
 
 She was also remarkable for her habitual reticence 
 — a trait for which some excellent women have never 
 been eminent. Her habit of taciturnity was so con- 
 firmed and stubborn that it became a matter of gen- 
 eral comment. Her husband took it in good part, 
 though sometimes he made it a point for his raillery 
 and amusement. There is a story that this couple 
 were once making an extensive journey in a two- 
 wheeled gig. They were traveling alone, and Brother 
 Jeter, always observant and quick of speech, sought 
 to engage her in conversation. She rewarded him 
 only with monosyllabic responses. Finally he con- 
 cluded that he too would inaugurate a policy of 
 silence, resolving not to open his lips until she spoke. 
 He said afterwards that they travelled for twenty 
 miles without the utterance of a word by either party. 
 Her silence did not spring from moroseness or a lack 
 of intelligence, for she was really an amiable and in- 
 telligent woman. Dr. Jeter always spoke of her as 
 a model of devoutness and generosity. For personal 
 display she cared nothing, but she found her happi- 
 ness in helping others. While usually reticent almost 
 to a painful extent, she was never afraid to talk to 
 others on the subject of religion. I met recently an 
 aged Baptist lady who told me that she was led to 
 Christ by Mrs. Jeter's influence, and that she once 
 heard her remark that she had sometimes been criti- 
 cised for talking so little, but that she, at least, had 
 the humble satisfaction of never having spoken a 
 word which afterwards caused her shame or sorrow. 
 
THE NORTHERN NECK. 165 
 
 Dr. Jeter's marriage with this lady occurred on the 
 9th of December, 1828. They lived together for 
 nearly twenty years, and he ever found in her a 
 gentle helpmeet and a faithful counsellor. As a fruit 
 of their union there was one child, a son, that lived 
 only a few weeks. That was the only child, I believe, 
 ever born unto Dr. Jeter, and by its death he was 
 made childless for life. This to him was a deep and 
 oft-confessed sorrow, for he was a devoted lover of 
 children. He said once to a lady, on congratulating 
 her on the birth of a daughter, that he wished that 
 he had a hundred girls. 
 
 The time spent in the Northern Neck was well 
 used. He often went out to aid neighboring pastors 
 in their meetings, and his services were in constant 
 request. 
 
 He always took the liveliest interest in denomina- 
 tional gatherings. He was fond of attending the dis- 
 trict associations, and never failed to be present at 
 the meetings of the General Association. From his 
 youth he was passionately fond of travel, and I have 
 no doubt if he had had an opportunity of circumnavi- 
 gating the globe, he would have accepted it on a single 
 day's notice. 
 
 In 1829 he paid his first visit to Baltimore, and in 
 the following extracts from his " Recollections " he 
 gives us a few of his experiences during that visit. 
 He also mentions the fact that he received a call to 
 become pastor in Baltimore, which he declined under 
 circumstances somewhat peculiar. 
 
166 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 A VOYAGE TO BALTIMORE. 
 
 During my residence in the Northern Neck, and in the year 
 1829, I made a trip to the Monumental City. Then no steamer 
 plied between that place and the Neck. The only communication 
 between them was by sailing craft. I arranged to make the 
 voyage in a small schooner, engaged in the Baltimore trade. I 
 had long desired to be in a storm on the water, strong enough to 
 give me a conception of its grandeur, without arousing my fears. 
 I got aboard the craft in the evening, and, not having fully re- 
 covered from an attack of malarial fever, went into the cabin, 
 took my berth and slept soundly until the next morning. To 
 my surprise, I learned that, in crossing the mouth of the Poto- 
 mac, we had been in a severe storm, and that the vessel had 
 been terribly rocked, if not in danger of being capsized. The 
 skipper, who had been long engaged in navigating the Chesapeake 
 Bay, stated that he had never before encountered so rough a 
 storm. Quite likely I enjoyed my sleep more than I should have 
 enjoyed the howling of the wind and the dashing of the waves. 
 
 In two or three days' run we reached the city of Baltimore. 
 To me it seemed a great city, containing about ninety thousand 
 inhabitants. The few days I spent there were employed in tra- 
 versing its streets, surveying its fine buildings and examining its 
 curiosities. I had often expressed the wish that I could meet 
 myself, without knowing who I was, that I might form an 
 impartial opinion of my appearance. Strangely enough, on 
 this visit, my desire was gratified. I went to Peale's Museum. 
 While I was employed in examining the curiosities in a large 
 room, I observed a tall, gawky-looking man who was engaged 
 with equal interest in inspecting objects in an adjoining room. I 
 eyed him occasionally, but not very minutely. Having finished 
 my examination in the room where I was, I concluded that I 
 would pass into the apartment where the stranger seemed to be 
 intensely occupied. He had closed his inspection of the curios- 
 ities in his room and appeared to be making his way into mine. 
 We met face to face, and it was some time before I could pei- 
 ceive that the stranger was my very self reflected from a mirror 
 that had been fitted in the wall, and surrounded by a frame ap- 
 pearing like a door. 
 
THE NORTHERN NECK. 167 
 
 I spent a Sunday in Baltimore. My first aim was to hear the 
 Rev. John Finlay preach. He was then pastor of the First 
 Baptist Church, meeting in the round house, on Sharp Street, so 
 long occupied by Dr. J. W. M. Williams. Mr. Finlay had the 
 reputation of being a very eloquent preacher. Many considered 
 him the equal of Summerfield, who had recently died, but who, 
 while living, was a star in the Methodist pulpit of Baltimore. I 
 asked Luther Rice what sort of preacher Mr. Finlay was. He 
 replied that he was such a preacher as a Scotchman would make. 
 I inquired what sort of a preacher a Scotchman would make. 
 And he answered that he would make a Scotch preacher. As his 
 answers were equivocal, he illustrated them by a Western story. 
 A witness was called to testify in a case of assault and battery. 
 The accused had struck his opponent with a stone. The witness 
 was asked the size of the stone, and replied that it was a sizeable 
 stone. The attorney requested him to state how big it was, and 
 he answered that it was of certain bigness. The court, inter- 
 posing, required him to compare it with something whose size 
 was known, and he said it was the size of a piece of chalk. The 
 explanation was quite as equivocal as the original answers. For 
 some reason he declined to give me his opinion of the preaching 
 abilities of Elder Finlay. He was a Scotchman, and some of 
 the finest preachers of the present century have been Scotchmen. 
 I heard him in his own pulpit on Sunday morning. His text 
 was Eph. iv. 22-24: "That ye put off concerning the former 
 conversation the old man, which is corrupt according to the de- 
 ceitful lusts ; and be renewed in the spirit of your mind," etc. 
 The congregation was not large, and the circumstances were not 
 exciting; but I can well judge, from the clearness, fluency and 
 correctness of his style, that, under favorable conditions, he 
 preached with, eloquence and power. This discourse, however, 
 was graceful rather than profound, and pleasing rather than im- 
 pressive. 
 
 At night I went to hear Elder E. J. Ries, who preached in a 
 church on Calvert Street. I had often heard of him. When I 
 met Rev. Daniel Davis, on my first visit to the Northern Neck, 
 he spoke in glowing terms of Elder Ries. He was the greatest man 
 of God that he had ever seen. His talents were not appreciated 
 
168 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 in Baltimore. Elder Davis thought that he must remove to 
 Baltimore to aid Brother Ries in his unequal conflict with false 
 religious doctrine. From other sources I have learned that he 
 was a high Calvinist, if not an Antinomian, and a leader of the 
 Anti-mission party. He was a small man, and, when I saw him, 
 quite beyond the meridian of life. His congregation, on a pleas- 
 ant evening, in a central part of Baltimore, numbered about 
 twenty persons. His text was Matt. v. 20 : " For I say unto 
 you, That except your righteousness shall exceed the righteous- 
 ness of the Scribes and Pharisees, ye shall in no case enter into 
 the kingdom of heaven." The sermon was sound in the faith. 
 Though the text did not demand it, he discussed the high points 
 of Calvinism with intense earnestness, before an audience that 
 was thoroughly indoctrinated, and had listened, no doubt, a 
 hundred times to the same discussion. He was not discouraged, 
 because he considered that, as his congregation was diminished 
 in size, it was increased in purity and merit. Elder Davis, we 
 learned, afterwards removed to Baltimore to assist Brother Eies 
 in his labors : but it was not long before he discovered that his 
 helper was unsound, and denounced him as an Arminian. Elder 
 Davis returned to Virginia a wiser man, and quite changed in 
 spirit. Elder Ries, by a most faithful ministry, as he deemed it, 
 succeeded in annihilating the church — a result which, so far as I 
 know, invariably follows the preaching of Antinomianism. 
 
 I may here mention a matter out of its chronological order. 
 The Baptists in Baltimore being few, and their cause feebly sus- 
 tained, Deacon William Crane, the founder and architect of the 
 Second Baptist Church of this city, a few years from this time, 
 resolved to remove to Baltimore for the purpose of establishing a 
 new church there. After the dissolution of Mr. Ries' church, 
 the deacon purchased the house on Calvert Street in which it 
 met. I was invited to unite with him in the enterprise. To de- 
 cide the matter judicially, I made another trip to the Mon- 
 umental City. I shared in the hospitality of Mrs. H., a 
 venerable sister who sympathized with Brother Crane in his 
 scheme. I preached to a small congregation in the Calvert 
 Street house. Sister H. inquired, after the sermon, whether I 
 was frightened. On being assured that I was not, she said she 
 
THE NORTHERN NECK. 169 
 
 supposed that I was, that something was the matter with me as I 
 did not preach so well as she had expected. What was the measure 
 of her expectation or how it had been created I knew not. I 
 admired her frankness, but was in nowise discouraged by her 
 disappointment ; for I had learned that no sermon could be so 
 excellent but that some persons would find fault with it, or so 
 poor that others would not praise it. It was for some time un- 
 decided whether I should remove to Baltimore or remain in 
 Virginia Finally it was agreed to leave the question to the 
 decision of a committee of ministers of the Dover Association 
 at its session with the Upper King and Queen Church, in the 
 year 1834. The committee decided adversely. 
 
 In 1832 he paid his first visit to New York. He 
 went to attend the Baptist Triennial Convention, and 
 his account of that trip is so fraught with pleasant 
 incidents that, even at the risk of extending this 
 chapter to an undue length, I present it in full : 
 
 At that time a journey from the Northern Neck to the Amer- 
 ican emporium was not what it now is. Accompanied by my 
 friend, Colonel Hall, I traveled in a steamer to Baltimore, and 
 thence to French town, at the head of the Chesapeake Bay. Here 
 I first saw a railroad, on which the passengers were drawn by 
 horses across the peninsula, at the rate of six or eight miles an 
 hour, to Newcastle, on the Delaware River. From this point my 
 companion and myself ascended the river in a steamer, touching 
 at Philadelphia, and landing at Trenton, N. J. From this place 
 we went with a long line of coaches by Princeton to New Bruns- 
 wick, on the Raritan River. Down this narrow stream we were 
 carried in a steamer to its mouth, and across the bay to New 
 York. I have described our journey that the reader may see 
 how great a change has taken place in the manner of traveling 
 in a period of forty-seven years. 
 
 New York impressed me as a great city. At that time there 
 was a strong commercial rivalry between it and the city of 
 Philadelphia. Each was striving for the pre-eminence. A 
 glance at the shipping in New York Harbor, and its crowded, 
 
170 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 busy streets, furnished decisive proof that the contest could not 
 last long, and was of no doubtful issue. It then contained a pop- 
 ulation of about two hundred thousand, and was rapidly growing 
 and extending its trade. My companion and myself shared in 
 the hospitality of Brother Luke Davies and his family. He was 
 a minister, without charge, was engaged in the manufacture of 
 stocks, then just coming into use. I was quite surprised to see 
 Rev. S. H. Cone with one on his neck, as he was the first minister 
 whom I had seen following that fashion. By our host and his 
 family we were courteously received and treated with princely fare. 
 
 The Convention assembled in Oliver Street Church, then un- 
 der the pastorate of Elder S. H. Cone. Since the last meeting 
 of the body the Rev. R. B. Semple, who had presided with dig- 
 nity over its deliberations, had passed to his reward, and the 
 popular pastor of Oliver Street Church was elected to fill the 
 chair. Cone was in the prime of life, rather below the ordinary 
 size of men, with a peculiarly open and cheerful countenance, 
 and a head prematurely white. He presided over the Conven- 
 tion with great promptness, efficiency and firmness. He assumed 
 more authority than would have been tolerated in a strictly par- 
 liamentary body ; but he exercised it for the dispatch of business. 
 
 Here I first met many prominent Baptist ministers, whom I sub- 
 sequently knew more or less intimately. Some I will mention. 
 Dr. Sharp was a Boston pastor, an Englishman by birth and edu- 
 cation, a slow, hesitating speaker, but calm and weighty in 
 council. Dr. Bolles, Secretary of the Board, led by his office to 
 take an active part in the business of the Convention, without 
 brilliant talents, was a judicious and diligent officer. Dr. Ken- 
 drick. President of Hamilton College, New York, was a tall, 
 raw-boned, rough-looking man, with strong sense and decided in- 
 fluence in the Convention. Wayland, Knowles and Stow were 
 the rising men of the body. Wayland had established his repu- 
 tation as a preacher by his published sermon on the Moral Dig- 
 nity of the Missionary Enterprise ; but his manner of speaking 
 did not correspond with the beauty and strength of his written 
 style. Knowles had gained renown by his admirable Life of 
 Mrs. Judson, but added nothing to it by anything which he said 
 in the Convention ; and, to the universal sorrow of the denomi- 
 
THE NORTHERN NECK. 171 
 
 nation, soon fell a victim to small-pox, the scourge of the human 
 race. Stow had distiuguished himself as the editor of the Col- 
 umbian Star, and preached, if I mistake not, the introductory 
 sermon before the Convention, without derogating from his repu- 
 tation or diminishing the promise of his usefulness. I must not 
 omit the names of Fathers Bennet and Peck. They were minis- 
 ters of the old dispensation, residing in the western part of the 
 State of New York, venerable for their age, and distinguished for 
 their piety, good sense and usefulness. They were among the most 
 devout, zealous, heart-stirring preachers that I have ever known. 
 If wise councils were needed, or oil was to be poured on the troub- 
 led waters, or the blessing of God was to be invoked, Fathers Ben- 
 net and Peck were always in demand ; and they were not called 
 on in vain. Time would fail me to speak of Maclay, Dodge (of 
 New Jersey), Galusha, Choules and many others — all trusted for 
 their wisdom, loved for their piety and honored for their gifts. 
 
 The representation from the South was small. Luther Rice, 
 then laboring there, Brantly (the elder) and Dagg, both South- 
 ern men and pastors in Philadelphia ; Saunders and Judge 
 Stocks from Georgia (if my memory is not at fault), with others, 
 doubtless, whom I have forgotten, were all present, and some of 
 them prominent in the Convention. 
 
 The routine of the body was dispatched without special inter- 
 est. One matter almost absorbed its attention. The Board sup- 
 ported a mission among the Indians of Georgia. The Legisla- 
 ture of the State had passed laws extending its jurisdiction over 
 the Indians within its territory, and requiring that persons re- 
 siding among them, missionaries as well as others, should, on pain 
 of incarceration in the penitentiary, acknowledge its authority. 
 The Baptist missionaries, without complaint or reluctance, sub- 
 mitted to the authority of the State, and, without its interference, 
 successfully prosecuted their work. The Presbyterian missionary 
 in the Indian territory deemed it his duty to pursue a different 
 course. Denying the right of the State of Georgia to exercise 
 jurisdiction over the Indians in their territory, he refused to yield 
 to its authority ; and was, consequently, arrested, tried, con- 
 demned and actually sent to labor in the State penitentiary. 
 The matter created great excitement in the country, and became 
 the theme of political and sectional controversy. 
 
172 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 The committee of the Convention on Indian Missions brought 
 in a report approving the course pursued by the Baptist mission- 
 aries in Georgia. The report was calm in its spirit and prudent 
 in its statements ; and would have been promptly adopted had 
 it not been supposed that by implication it approved the course 
 of Georgia, and censured the conduct of the Presbyterian minis- 
 ter. It led to a protracted and heated discussion, in which Ga- 
 lusha and Choules took prominent part in opposition to the re- 
 port, and Rice in support of it. After a wearisome and, no 
 doubt, quite able debate, the subject was referred to a select com- 
 mittee, of which J L. Dagg was chairman, or for which, at least, 
 he prepared and read the report. 
 
 The next day, when the heat of the controversy had, in a good 
 measure, subsided, Dagg read the report of the select committee, 
 modified to avoid the objections which had been urged against it. 
 He followed its reading with a speech, which, in my judgment, 
 was the speech of the Convention. It was calm, clear, forcible 
 and in a lovely spirit. It was simply a question whether the 
 Convention should approve or censure the conduct of their mis- 
 sionaries in Georgia. They had violated no law of God or man. 
 They had acted prudently, their labors had been owned of God, 
 and they were entitled to the commendation of their brethren. 
 If the Presbyterian missionary deemed it proper to pursue a dif- 
 ferent course, that was no concern of the Convention. Let the 
 Presbyterians attend to it. 1 do not give an outline, but merely 
 the topics of the speech. It made a deep impression, elicited no 
 reply, and the report was adopted, I think, unanimously. 
 
 I heard but little preaching during the meeting of the Con- 
 vention. Dr. Way land preached at night in the Oliver Street 
 Church. The congregation was not crowded. Indeed, I was 
 surprised at the little interest awakened in the proceedings of the 
 Convention in the great, bustling city of New York, so strikingly 
 in contrast with what I had seen on similar occasions in the cities 
 of Virginia. The doctor preached from Rom. vii. 13 : " That sin 
 by the commandment might become exceeding sinful." His 
 theme was the sinfulness of sin ; and he illustrated his doctrine 
 by showing the obligation which sin violates — as seen in the 
 power it defies — the goodness it abuses — the holiness it offends — 
 
THE NORTHERN NECK. 173 
 
 and the long-suffering it rejects, and in the effects it produces — 
 as seen in the happiness it sacrifices — the punishment it incurs 
 and the reward it offers. From the doctrine, he inferred the 
 justice of God in punishing sin, his grace in providing a Saviour 
 for sinners, and concluded by pointing out the bearing of the 
 subject on the mission cause. The sermon was plain, sensible 
 and solemn, but lacked the graces of oratory and the impressive 
 fervor which I had expected. Masculine common sense, as I af- 
 terwards more fully learned, was the characteristic of Dr. Way- 
 land's mind and sermons. 
 
 Sunday morning I preached to a small Welsh congregation in 
 Brooklyn. The town contained at that time, if I remember 
 rightly, twelve or fourteen thousand inhabitants, and gave, to my 
 unpracticed eyes, no indication of its rapid growth and its coming 
 prosperity. I do not recollect the subject on which I preached, 
 or anything pertaining to the services. At their close I was 
 assured by a Welsh brother that my manner of preaching was 
 very much like that of the Welsh ministers. I received the re- 
 mark as a great compliment, as about that time the celebrated 
 extract from a sermon of Christmas Evans, concerning the ap- 
 pearance of Christ at Calvary, after a lapse of four thousand 
 years, to fulfill his covenant obligations for the redemption of 
 sinners, was widely circulated and greatly admired. Howbeit, 
 the good brother did not intimate that my sermon bore any re- 
 semblance to the eloquent and seraphic specimen of Evans' 
 preaching, but only to the ordinary style of the Welsh sermons. 
 
 We now have reached the end of his happy and 
 successful career in the Northern Neck. How 
 abundantly God had blessed him ! He had grown 
 in intelligence, confidence and public favor, and now 
 the Lord had other and more important work for 
 him to do. In the modest words which follow, he 
 tells us of his unsolicited call to one of the most 
 prominent and responsible pastorates in the country. 
 The summons was promptly heeded, and in a few 
 
174 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 weeks this servant of the Lord, then only thirty- 
 three years of age, retired from his rural pastorate 
 and began his work in the capital city of Virginia. 
 
 In the autumn of 1835 I was invited to the pastorate of the 
 First Baptist Church of this city. The honor was by me un- 
 sought and unexpected. I have made a few changes in my min- 
 isterial life ; and usually with great anxiety, doubtfulness and 
 sorrow. I accepted, after a short delay, the invitation to settle 
 in Richmond, without a lingering doubt of the propriety of the 
 measure. During my residence in the Northern Neck two young 
 men had been called into the ministry, and solemnly ordained to the 
 work — Col. Addison Hall and Dr. William H. Kirk — the latter 
 baptized by me and the former by Straughan. They were 
 men of piety, culture, useful gifts and high respectability. They 
 were well fitted to occupy the field in which I was laboring ; but 
 while I remained in it, being older in the ministry and pastor of 
 the churches, it was not probable that their talents would be fully 
 developed or successfully employed. It was more convenient for 
 me to change my location than it was for them. I followed the 
 leading of Providence, and never have had cause to regret my 
 course. Hall and Kirk became pastors of the churches, and ac- 
 complished a greater amount of good than would probably have 
 been effected had I continued in charge of them. 
 
 My firm conviction that I should leave the Northern Neck did 
 not prevent my removal from being a trying and sorrowful 
 event. Most of the members of the churches I had baptized. I 
 had received from them the kindest and most brotherly treat- 
 ment. If there was a man, woman or child in all my congrega- 
 tions, except one, who was not opposed to my leaving, I did not 
 know it. That one was Deacon Thomas S. Sydnor, among the 
 truest and most devoted of all my friends. Under all the cir- 
 cumstances, he gave it as his opinion, in opposition to the warm- 
 est feelings of friendship, that it was my duty to accept the call 
 in Richmond. To add to the trial, the change involved the 
 necessity of leaving the grave of my first wife, and breaking, in 
 a measure, the tender tits of my second to her family and the 
 place of her nativity. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 SETTLEMENT IN EICHMOND. 
 
 R. JETER entered upon his duties as pastor 
 of the First Baptist Church of Richmond, Va., 
 on the first Lord's day in January, 1836. 
 That event, so memorable in his history, was empha- 
 sized by special services, of which he makes brief 
 mention in his " Recollections ." If we judge that 
 occasion by the notice which it received in the 
 Religious Herald of that week, we must infer that 
 it was quite unpretending, and in harmony with the 
 severely simple tastes of those times. The editor 
 consumed only ten lines in celebrating Jeter's advent 
 into the city. He mentions the fact of his installa- 
 tion as the bishop of the First Church, and states 
 that three addresses were delivered at the time — one 
 to the pastor by Rev. S. Cornelius, one to the 
 church by Rev. J. B. Taylor and one to the deacons 
 by Rev. W. F. Nelson. The extra attention paid to 
 the deacons on the occasion must have been peculiar 
 to that day, since, in the programmes of more recent 
 installations, that item never appears. This omis- 
 sion may help to explain why it has gradually come 
 to pass that the subordination of the diaconate to 
 the pastoral office, so clearly indicated in Scripture, 
 is now often overlooked. Dr. Jeter found in his 
 
 175 
 
176 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 board of deacons the most cordial support during 
 his entire service in that church. 
 
 While the new pastor was inducted into his office 
 in a manner so free from ostentation, it must have 
 been to him an event of thrilling importance. It 
 marked a solemn and critical turn in the current of 
 his life. The little mountain stream upon which, a 
 few years before, he had set his bark, had been 
 growing wider and deeper. Suddenly it turned in 
 a new direction, and opened before him a vast and 
 startling prospect.' The change must have filled 
 him with mingled solicitude and exultation. 
 
 The First Church was even then historic. It had 
 behind it a record of fifty-six years. It is not for 
 me to recount, at any length, the story of that excel- 
 lent old church. It was born in 1780, amid the 
 throes of the Revolution, and began its career as a 
 feeble and homeless band. In the face of manifold 
 hindrances it grew steadily, until in 1836 it had 
 become a vigorous and intelligent body. From the 
 beginning it had enjoyed the ministrations of strong 
 and faithful men. 
 
 Joshua Morris was its first pastor. It was by his 
 paternal care that the infant church was nursed into 
 life, and he lovingly guarded it amidst the dread 
 alarms of war. It was a day of small things, but 
 Morris was faithful in that which was least. 
 
 He was followed by John Courtney, who for 
 thirty-six years went in and out before the church. 
 Dr. J. L. Burrows describes Courtney as " an hum- 
 ble, plain man, without the advantages of early 
 education, but a godly and laborious minister of 
 
SETTLEMENT IN RICHMOND. 177 
 
 Christ." He came to the charge of the church just 
 as peace and independence became the heritage of 
 the American people. He was a faithful man, and 
 let it be recorded to the honor of his people that 
 they did not cast him off when he became old. 
 They called Rev. John Bryce to aid the super- 
 annuated pastor, and for twelve years they worked 
 pleasantly together. When Bryce retired, Andrew 
 Broaddus, one of the most princely and captivating 
 men that ever belonged to the Virginia ministry, 
 became associate pastor. He tarried only a single 
 year, when, chafed by the inevitable exactions and 
 conventionalities of city life, he returned to his Caro- 
 line home. 
 
 In 1825 the church secured Elder John Kerr for 
 its pastor. He was a man of noble physique, bril- 
 liant genius and imperial eloquence. Dr. Jeter said 
 of him, that he was the most majestic orator that he 
 ever heard. He was a thrilling pulpit attraction, 
 but eccentric, impulsive and unsystematic. It was 
 fortunate that upon his retirement, in 1833, the 
 church secured Rev. Isaac Taylor Hinton as his 
 successor. Hinton was an Englishman, and highly 
 educated. Dr. W. D. Thomas tells us that he was 
 " a very superior preacher — acute, able and instruc- 
 tive, and that the church steadily grew while in his 
 charge." In describing Hinton as a man of sharp 
 intellect, fair education and admirable gifts for organ- 
 izing, Dr. Jeter draws the following picture of the 
 church as he received it from Hinton's hands : " I 
 found the church in an admirable state of organiza- 
 tion from the labors and timely suggestions of its 
 12 
 
178 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 late pastor. It was divided into districts ; the mem- 
 bers in every district placed under suitable super- 
 vision, plans for usefulness judiciously arranged, and 
 the church manual containing the name and resi- 
 dence of every member, and much valuable informa- 
 tion for the assistance of the pastor. The church 
 was as systematically organized as any well-drilled 
 military company." 
 
 Hinton resigned in 1835, and after several pastor- 
 ates in the West, went to New Orleans, where, in 
 1847, he fell a victim to the yellow fever. 
 
 It was at this point that the choice of this church 
 fell upon Jeremiah B. Jeter. He was then in the 
 thirty-fourth year of his age, and it had been only a 
 little over a dozen years since he had emerged from 
 Bedford, a raw and untutored stripling. Those who 
 remember his ardent temperament and ever-glowing 
 ambition can well understand the almost exultant 
 pleasure with which he contemplated this sudden 
 distinction. There was much in it to gratify, and 
 even to dazzle him. His call was a revelation. It 
 unveiled him as a coming man. Though his lot for 
 the previous nine years had been cast in an isolated 
 field, and though he was yet far short of the meridian 
 of life, the evidences of his power and the fame of 
 his success had already begun to spread. There was 
 in his selection for the First Church pastorate an 
 acknowledgment of his gifts, a tribute to his fidelity 
 and a prophecy of yet higher achievement. 
 
 His removal to Richmond was an epoch in his life. 
 It was a sudden translation from the quietude of a 
 rural pastorate to a post of commanding and repre- 
 
SETTLEMENT IN RICHMOND. 179 
 
 sentative importance. From a provincialist, he was, 
 in the Baptist sense of the term, transformed into a 
 metropolitan. Hitherto he had been the central 
 figure of a community, but now he was to try his 
 fortunes in the capital city of his State. Before he 
 had preached once a week to admiring and uncritical 
 audiences, but now he was to preach three sermons 
 a week, and that, too, in the presence of those who 
 had enjoyed the ministrations of the foremost men 
 of the times. From tasks few and light he was 
 summoned to shoulder burdens numberless and 
 heavy. To the duties of a great pastorate he was 
 to add the yet more complicated and vexatious cares 
 of denominational work. 
 
 With what emotions did he face the new situation! 
 It is not easy to answer this question with candor 
 without being misunderstood. All along I have 
 admitted that Dr. Jeter was intensely ambitious. 
 By nature he loved the pre-eminence, and even 
 under the subduing power of grace he gloried in 
 leadership. I must be equally frank in admitting 
 that he was not a stranger to his own strength. He 
 believed in himself. This was so apparent, at times, 
 that it exposed him to the suspicion of unholy self- 
 reliance. To the superficial he often appeared over- 
 confident, and even reckless and vain-glorious. 
 
 But this was not true. He was a thoroughly 
 converted man. He knew that of himself he could 
 do nothing, and in that hopeful dash and spring 
 which marked his movements he was animated, not 
 by a sense of his own strength, but by a joyous and 
 uplifting trust in the living God. He harbored no 
 
180 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 extravagant notions of his abilities, and all his life 
 he was painfully hampered by the consciousness that 
 his lack of education seriously narrowed the sphere 
 of his movements. But he knew that he had gifts, 
 and he was devoid of that spurious humility which 
 prompts some to deny the possession of powers of 
 which they are conscious. He did not boast of his 
 talents, but was thankful for them, and sought to 
 make the most of them. 
 
 He says that in his youth he was a castle-builder, 
 but of all men, I think he was the freest from 
 romantic sentiment. He indulged no Utopian dreams 
 as to his future, and erected no airy monuments in 
 honor of himself. He looked at things in a cool 
 and sensible way. He never posed as a favorite of 
 Providence, nor fancied that success would follow 
 him as an obsequious courtier. His creed was very 
 simple. He held that if a man would faithfully use 
 his strength, and avail himself of opportunities as 
 they opened before him, he would succeed. He 
 knew that he possessed some endowments and quali- 
 fications for usefulness — not so great and attractive 
 as others had, but ample for real effectiveness. 
 He saw that in Richmond he would have a broad 
 and engaging field, and that by patience and industry 
 he might reap a rich harvest. Whatever ambitious 
 thoughts may have been awakened by the outlook, 
 were thoroughly subordinated to the deeper sense of 
 duty. And so he put these things together, and 
 enshrining the promises of God in his heart, he 
 promptly accepted the call to Richmond. 
 
 He found the church worshipping in a building 
 
SETTLEMENT IN RICHMOND. 181 
 
 which stood at the corner of Broad and College 
 Streets, on the same site where now stands the 
 immense edifice erected a few years ago by the First 
 African Church. The old structure was originally 
 small, and never attractive, but it had undergone 
 various additions and improvements, which at least 
 rendered it capacious and comfortable. 
 
 At the time he began his labors the church had a 
 membership of 1717, of which 1384 were colored and 
 333 white. He found the church in fine working 
 order — harmonious, well-organized and hopeful. For 
 this condition of things he often acknowledged his 
 indebtedness to his youthful predecessor, Isaac Tay- 
 lor Hinton. 
 
 He began his Richmond career without noise or 
 parade. He had no cumbrous reputation to embar- 
 rass him. It never crossed his mind that he 
 could increase his power by resorting to sensational 
 expedients. He brought with him no startling ec- 
 centricities by which he hoped to attract public atten- 
 tion and draw in a curious and unthinking crowd. 
 He advertised no high-straining topics and indulged 
 in no buffooneries or extravagances in the pulpit. 
 It was not the day of fashionable choirs or pompous 
 and elaborate services, such as feed the fancy and 
 tickle the tastes of sentimental religionists. He 
 brought nothing except a burning soul, a dauntless 
 courage and a living faith in the word of the Lord. 
 He signalized his advent by no important changes, 
 but modestly fell in line and worked with his church. 
 
 It is to be regretted that Dr. Jeter furnished such 
 scanty reminiscences of his First Church pastorate. 
 
182 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 The secret of his reserve is easily explained. When 
 he wrote his Recollections he lived in Richmond, and 
 he could not have attempted details without speak- 
 ing too freely of persons then living. What he has 
 to say of his pastorate will prove delightful reading, 
 not only to the Richmond reader, but to all under 
 whose eyes these pages may fall. 
 
 On the first Lord's-day morning of January I preached my 
 introductory sermon before the church from 1 Cor. ii. 2 : " For I 
 determined not to know anything among you, save Jesus Christ 
 and him crucified." In considering the theme of the apostolic 
 ministry, " Jesus Christ and him crucified," I noticed its extent, 
 importance and efficacy, and closed with remarks pertinent to my 
 entrance on the pastorate. At night appropriate services were 
 held in the church, in which Elders J. B. Taylor, Addison Hall, 
 Samuel Cornelius, W. F. Nelson and H. Keeling participated, 
 all of whom have closed their labors and entered on their reward. 
 
 It is not my purpose to give a detailed account of my life while 
 pastor of the church, but to record my recollections of some 
 prominent events, and my views of a few distinguished persons 
 with whom I was associated during that period. It will be neces- 
 sary, however, for the better understanding of this record, that I 
 should give a brief sketch of my pastorate. My connection with 
 the church continued about thirteen years and a half. It was 
 an eventful and important period of my life. I was brought into 
 a new, responsible and difficult sphere of activity. My relations 
 with the church throughout the whole time of my pastorate were 
 harmonious and pleasant. It was to me a season of great anxiety 
 and toil, as well as of hopefulness and pleasure. My labors and 
 faithfulness were not so great as they might have been ; but at 
 the close I had little cause of self-reproach. I had endeavored, 
 with diligence and earnestness, to perform the various and oner- 
 ous duties of my office. 
 
 My success in this pastorate, while it was not commensurate 
 with my desire for usefulness, called for devout thanksgiving to 
 God. During this period the church enjoyed several precious 
 
SETTLEMENT IN RICHMOND. 183 
 
 revivals, and received large and valuable accessions. I baptized 
 about one thousand persons, white and colored, in connection 
 with the church, many of whom became ministers of the word of 
 God — among them I may mention Dr. Garlick, of this city, and 
 Dr. Henson, of Philadelphia. The church, numbering about 
 three hundred members when I took charge of it, contained 
 more than six hundred when I resigned my pastorate. It would 
 be invidious to compare those I left in the church with those 
 whom I found in it ; but this much may be fairly said : Many 
 of the members introduced into it during my labors were noble 
 specimens of piety and activity, who have continued through the 
 long period of thirty years, and under the pastorates of Manly, 
 Burrows and Warren to be pillars in the house of God. The 
 most important event of my ministry was probably the organiza- 
 tion of the First African Church, of which I purpose to furnish an 
 account in my next article. 
 
 In a former chapter I have spoken of Dr. Jeter's 
 extremely gentle and provident care for his mother. 
 It is pleasant to know that that mother, whose 
 pleasures were not very many on the earth, lingered 
 long enough to see the son of her pride lifted to a 
 position which, in her modest eyes, must have seemed 
 truly lofty and glorious. If the truth was known, I 
 suppose that it would be found that one of Dr. Jeter's 
 chief reasons for relishing distinction so keenly was 
 that it shed sunshine on his mother's heart. He 
 delighted to write to her and tell her of all the for- 
 tunate and happy things which befell him. How 
 much he missed her sweet sympathy when she went 
 to her grave ! Her death occurred during his first 
 residence in Richmond, and in the following words he 
 pays her his grateful tribute : 
 
 During the time I was called to taste the bitter cup of affliction. 
 My mother, for whom I cherished the most filial and tender affection, 
 
184 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 passed to her long home. A man may have many friends, but he 
 can have only one mother ; and he that loses a good mother sustains 
 an irreparable loss. It has been to me a life-long grief that my 
 mother did not live until I had some opportunity of requiting 
 her many years of toil, care and kindness on my behalf. It is to 
 me, in old age, a great pleasure that I have no recollection of 
 having disobeyed her, or uttered a disrespectful word to her. In the 
 same period 1 followed to the grave my second wife — Sarah Ann, 
 nee Gaskins — after a protracted illness, and the most triumphant 
 death which, in a ministry of more than fifty years, it has been my 
 privilege to witness. I really do not know how such calmness, 
 such hope, such joy, such perfect self-possession, such courage and 
 elevation of mind, as she displayed in the immediate and cer- 
 tain prospect of death, on the part of one in the meridian of life, 
 could be accounted for, except on the supposition that she was 
 sustained and cheered by divine grace. The hour of her death 
 was the hour of her triumph and rapture ; and she might well 
 have been conveyed to the tomb — as I heard Spurgeon express 
 the wish that he might be — in a white hearse, adorned with white 
 plumes and drawn by white horses, and accompanied by a pro- 
 cession with songs of triumph and the sound of trumpets. Her 
 death was a fitting end of her life of unostentatious and fervent 
 piety. 
 
 The limits of this work forbid full details of this 
 interesting pastorate. Jeter's characteristics as a 
 pastor and his general usefulness during this period 
 of his life will come under review in later chapters. 
 I must, however, briefly mark some of the striking 
 incidents of his career during the thirteen years of 
 this pastorate. 
 
 Not long after he settled in Richmond he became 
 convinced that his church needed a better house of 
 worship. He was a man of simple tastes and con- 
 scientiously opposed to showy and extravagant 
 church buildings. But he believed in the fitness of 
 
SETTLEMENT IN RICHMOND. 185 
 
 things. He held that public worship ought to be 
 rendered attractive, and that a church building ought 
 to represent creditably the piety and taste of those 
 who occupied it. The old building was badly lo- 
 cated, unsightly in appearance and inadequate to the 
 necessities of the congregation. But the rage for fine 
 houses of worship was not so great then as now. To 
 the slow and illiberal portion of his church a new 
 house did not seem to be a necessity. It was indeed 
 a grave undertaking" to purchase an expensive lot and 
 to erect a new and costly house, especially as it was 
 foreseen that they would realize very little on the 
 old building. But it was in the pastor's heart to 
 build. The enterprise took possession of him, and 
 he could not be dissuaded. It was not simply a new 
 house for which he was pleading, but for the division 
 of the church, which he considered as indispensable 
 to its highest welfare. All the conviction and en- 
 thusiasm of his nature centred in this movement. 
 He was never an obstinate man, but his earnestness 
 was so intense and unyielding that with many it 
 passed for obstinacy of the worst type. What he 
 wanted he wanted tremendously, and it was impos- 
 sible to control him until he got it. 
 
 Happily there was in the church a progressive and 
 liberal element that thoroughly sympathized with his 
 views. After several years of tormenting delays the 
 church was warmed up to the point of action, and the 
 result was the present stately and elegant building at 
 the corner of Broad and Twelfth Streets, in which the 
 church still worships. Its original cost was $40,000, 
 and while it has since undergone valuable improve- 
 
186 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 ments, it was then one of the most convenient and 
 delightful church edifices in the South. It was com- 
 pleted in 1841, and he preached in it for eight 
 years. 
 
 He never claimed any credit for the building of 
 that house, but he was really the central and ani- 
 mating force in the movement. A heavy debt re- 
 mained upon the house for several years, and Brother 
 A. H. Sands, an honored Baptist lawyer and min- 
 ister of Richmond, says that for its liquidation the 
 church was largely indebted to the sagacity and prac- 
 tical judgment of Dr. Jeter. 
 
 After years of earnest toil his hope was fulfilled. 
 For three or four years he had grappled with grievous 
 obstacles, and often grown sick of heart by reason of 
 discouragements. In his entire life he never wrought 
 with greater singleness of purpose or with more un- 
 remitting energy for any object than he did for the 
 building of that house. And now it stood before him 
 complete and beautiful! How surpassingly grand 
 did it appear to his eyes ! With what throbbing joy 
 and high religious exultation did he lead his people 
 out of the dingy old house on the hill-side and take 
 them up to dwell in the new temple ! 
 
 There is something contagious in genuine enthusi- 
 asm. A deed well done is an inspiration. It is 
 worthy of note that the completion of that house was 
 soon followed by the erection of two other elegant 
 Baptist houses of worship in the city — those yet oc- 
 cupied by the Second and the Grace Street Baptist 
 Churches. It is not too much to say that if the 
 mother church had led the way with a cheap and in- 
 
SETTLEMENT IN RICHMOND. 187 
 
 ferior building, her daughters would likely enough 
 have followed her example. 
 
 Far be it from me to belittle the work which has 
 been done within the last two decades for the religious 
 elevation of the freedmen of the South. In no sphere 
 of Christian service has philanthropy found a wider 
 field or wrought with better results. If its methods 
 have not always been wise, and if at times its spirit 
 has seemed unamiable, it is just to say that it has 
 evinced rare generosity and exhaustless patience. 
 For all that has been done for the colored people 
 since their emancipation every true Southern heart 
 must rejoice. 
 
 But let the truth be told. It is an egregious mis- 
 take to suppose that the colored people were a set 
 of heathen in the times of slavery. It is not claimed 
 that they were educated in the technical sense of that 
 word, but their contact with the white people was 
 necessarily constant and intimate, and as a result 
 very many of them were refined and intelligent. I 
 admit that not all was done for their religious wel- 
 fare that the gospel required of their masters. 
 
 There were practical difficulties in the way of their 
 evangelization which it has always seemed impossible 
 for an outsider to understand. There were social, 
 political and ecclesiastical hindrances which it was 
 hard to overcome. That any Southern Christian did 
 his full duty for the enslaved race I do not under- 
 take to assert. Some did nothing, and others prac- 
 tically antagonized all movements for their religious 
 training, under the mistaken notion that it might 
 render them restless and seditious. While frankly 
 
188 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 admitting this, I can yet say in truth that when the 
 shackles of bondage were broken and the slaves were 
 suddenly transformed into freedmen, they were a 
 Christianized race. 
 
 When they came to the American shores they 
 were heathen of the lowest type — superstitious and 
 besotted ; but when by the violence of war they were 
 suddenly emancipated, very many of them were 
 Christians. They may have carried out with them 
 many marks of servility, but they took with them 
 also in their religious knowledge and faith the un- 
 mistakable evidences of the fidelity and zeal of the 
 Christian people of the South. Many of them were 
 church members, and not a few of them well versed 
 in the doctrines of Christ and able to teach others. 
 That which has been done for them since their eman- 
 cipation is not to be despised. It is a good work, 
 and let God be praised for it ; but it could not have 
 been done so soon or so well but for that other and 
 oft-forgotten work which had already been done for 
 them. 
 
 Nor is it immodest to say that the bulk of that 
 Christian education which the enslaved race had re- 
 ceived was derived from the Baptists. In later times 
 it has become common to say that the negroes are 
 naturally inclined to be Baptists. This Baptists 
 themselves have fallen into the habit of saying, and 
 I have sometimes suspected that other denominations 
 found a sort of complacent pride in admitting that 
 the native bent of this feeble race is toward the Bap- 
 tists. In all this there is an unthinking confusion 
 of effect with cause. The negroes incline towards 
 
SETTLEMENT IN RICHMOND. 189 
 
 the Baptists because the Baptists have all the while 
 inclined toward them. In the years of their bond- 
 age, when other denominations stood aloof, the Bap- 
 tists were their friends. 
 
 A house of worship was rarely ever built by our 
 people that did not include accommodations for the 
 colored people. At every Sunday service and often 
 during the week they were present. Our ministers 
 sometimes directed portions of their sermons especi- 
 ally to them, and services were frequently held for 
 their exclusive benefit. Their masters, for the most 
 part, were not Baptists, but none the less faithfully 
 on that account did our fathers work for their sal- 
 vation. 
 
 As a result of this steady and courageous zeal great 
 numbers of the slaves were converted and brought 
 into our churches. They worshipped in the same 
 houses, singing the same songs, uniting in the same 
 prayers, hearing the same sermons and sitting down 
 together at the Lord's table. In many churches they 
 outnumbered the white membership, and if in any- 
 thing they were restricted in their privileges, the re- 
 striction was due far more to the laws of the country 
 and the social difficulties of the situation than to any 
 lack of Christian affection on the part of their white 
 brethren. 
 
 The days of slavery are over, but I feel constrained 
 to say that I believe that our Baptist brethren did 
 about the best that they could under all the circum- 
 stances for the evangelization of the negroes while 
 they were yet slaves. They, at least, did more than 
 all other Christian people put together, and that, too, 
 
190 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 when they were not great in numbers, culture or 
 wealth. 
 
 The history of the First Baptist Church furnishes 
 an instructive illustration of the difficulties with 
 which the Baptists had to contend in their attempts 
 to give the gospel to the negroes. From the first 
 they were admitted to membership, and when, in 
 1836, Dr. Jeter assumed charge of the church, they 
 outnumbered the white people almost five to one. 
 The situation must have been unsatisfactory to both 
 races. Each greatly preferred to be alone, and the 
 separation was a necessity. From the outset Dr. 
 Jeter openly favored a division. He insisted that the 
 habits, comfort and religious progress of both parties 
 were involved, and that was one of his strongest argu- 
 ments used in advocacy of the new house of worship. 
 
 But there were obstacles. Such a change neces- 
 sitated a heavy expenditure of money, and it has 
 never yet come to pass that any religious enterprise 
 which strongly touched the financial question was 
 brought to success without encountering the resists 
 ance of the covetous and narrow-minded. There were 
 also racial prejudices which were quick to resent 
 every attempt to invest the colored brethren with 
 any unusual privileges. There were legal questions 
 also which threatened serious complications and 
 needed to be handled with the utmost tact and deli- 
 cacy. Behind all this, and far more to be dreaded, 
 was that combustible and dangerous thing, public 
 sentiment, which suddenly rose in opposition to the 
 proposal to throw the colored people into a separate 
 church organization. 
 
SETTLEMENT IN RICHMOND. 191 
 
 Di\ Jeter was yet a young man, and knew little of 
 the habits and prejudices of city people. The situa- 
 tion was extremely delicate and called for the highest 
 qualities of leadership. He needed discretion and 
 courage in about equal measures. One reckless and 
 ill-chosen step might have brought incurable disaster. 
 It is the testimony of those who watched his course 
 that he evinced a caution, strength and intrepidity 
 which surprised even those who knew him best. He 
 studied carefully the legal aspects of the question, and 
 never ventured on uncertain ground. He conceded 
 everything that could be yielded with safety. He 
 did nothing to inflame public prejudice and refused 
 to be drawn into controversies on doubtful ques- 
 tions. So far as he could, he identified with the 
 movement the wise and strong men of the city. 
 
 It is agreed that his management was admirable. 
 He was good-humored, conciliatory, and so manifestly 
 anxious to do only what was right that his opponents 
 found it hard to pick a quarrel with him. He was 
 so well posted that nobody could trip or balk him. 
 He gained an advantage here and carried a point 
 there, and won an unexpected victory yonder, until 
 he presently became the master of the field. His 
 people became proud of him and rallied around him. 
 The legal experts came out on his side ; Christian 
 brethren of other names stood at his back and 
 encouraged him, and the business men of the city 
 indicated a readiness to furnish money to aid his en- 
 terprise. 
 
 The result was more than a victory. He not 
 only carried the point, but he became a popular hero. 
 
192 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 He suddenly arose above the public horizon as a 
 man of high intelligence, far-seeing sagacity and in- 
 flexible determination. There are aged people yet 
 living in Richmond who, with trembling lip, delight 
 to tell how handsomely "Brother Jeter" bore him- 
 self in those exciting times. 
 
 In the simple paper which is now presented he 
 touches that incident in his life. It was written 
 many years after the event had occurred. The 
 smoke of the battle had long disappeared, and he 
 writes of it with the serene composure of a spectator. 
 The organization of that church was a great event in 
 the history of the colored people in Virginia. It 
 settled many doubtful questions and opened the way 
 for other and similar establishments. Here is what 
 he has to say about it : 
 
 THE ORGANIZATION OF THE FIRST AFRICAN CHURCH TS RICH- 
 MOND. 
 
 "When I came to Richmond the First Church contained about 
 two thousand colored members, and the number was considerably 
 augmented while they were under my charge. They were a 
 heavy burden on the white members of the church. Besides the 
 expense of providing for their instruction, much time and labor 
 were devoted to the exercise of discipline among them. 
 
 There were several important reasons for organizing them into 
 a separate and independent church. The space allotted for their 
 use in the house of worship was utterly insufficient for their ac- 
 commodation. The style of preaching demanded by the white 
 congregation was not well adapted to the instruction of the colored 
 people. Besides, it was quite impossible for the pastor, with a 
 large white congregation under his care, to pay much attention 
 to the necessities of the colored portion of his flock. A pastor 
 who should devote his whole time, or the chief part of it, to their 
 interests, seemed to be imperatively demanded. 
 
SETTLEMENT IN RICHMOND. 193 
 
 There were, however, very serious difficulties in the way of 
 organizing a colored church. A house of worship, of no incon- 
 siderable extent, would be needed for their accommodation ; and 
 the means of procuring it could not be easily obtained. There 
 was, however, a more formidable obstacle to the enterprise than 
 the lack of money. Public sentiment was opposed to it. The 
 unfortunate Southampton insurrection had led to the enactment 
 of stringent laws in regard to the assembling of negroes for relig- 
 ious worship or any other purpose. They were forbidden to meet 
 in any considerable number, except in the presence and under 
 the supervision of white persons. The Abolition excitement at 
 the North was producing a most unpleasant counter-excitement 
 at the South. All efforts for ameliorating the condition of the 
 slaves were opposed by many on the ground that they favored 
 the designs of the Abolitionists. Many pious people looked with 
 distrust, if not with hostility, on all new measures for the religious 
 instruction of the negroes. All classes of irreligious persons — 
 skeptics, gamblers, bar-keepers, and the like, of whom Richmond, 
 at that time, had her full share — were bitter and fierce in their 
 opposition to the proposed organization. They were hostile, in- 
 deed, to all religion ; but, as the white churches were too well 
 fortified by public sentiment to be safely attacked, they concen- 
 trated their opposition against the proposed African church, and 
 appealed to the fears excited by the recent insurrection, and to 
 the feeling of indignation prevailing against the Abolitionists, to 
 prevent the execution of the scheme. 
 
 The Church, after much anxious consultation, resolved to pur- 
 chase a lot, build a new house, and make arrangements for the 
 exclusive occupancy of the old house by the colored portion of 
 the church. To this resolution we are indebted for the spacious 
 and solid building now known as the First Baptist Church, at the 
 corner of Broad and Twelfth Streets, and for the still more capa- 
 cious edifice, called the First African Church, standing on the 
 ground long occupied by the old and venerable Baptist Church, 
 in which sat, for a time, the distinguished Convention of 1829-30, 
 which remodeled the State Constitution, and on whose floor were 
 laid the dead and dying at the time of the memorable conflagra- 
 tion of the theatre. The new house was built by great exertions 
 
 13 
 
194 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 and great sacrifices, in which the noble sisters bore a conspicuous 
 part. Deacons James Sizer and Archibald Thomas, by their lib- 
 erality and their personal attentions, contributed largely to the 
 completion and excellent arrangements of the building. It is 
 proper, too, to say that to Mr. James Thomas, Jr., then just com- 
 mencing his successful financial career, more than to any other 
 man, living or dead, have the colored people been indebted for 
 the valuable house which they long occupied, and which has 
 been succeeded by their present edifice, undoubtedly the largest 
 house of worship in the State. The old house and lot were valued 
 by impartial judges ; the church made a contribution of three 
 thousand dollars to secure the property for the use of the colored 
 people, and the owners of slaves were solicited to aid in the enter- 
 prise. The personal application to them for help was assigned to 
 Mr. Thomas ; and right nobly and most successfully did he perform 
 his task. His acquaintance with the tobacco merchants and 
 manufacturers gave him advantages for the work which few pos- 
 sessed, and which only he was willing to employ. 
 
 The African Church was organized in the year 1842. Many 
 difficulties had to be obviated in its organization. It was deemed 
 wise to conform the church to the State laws and the municipal 
 regulations. Its meetings were held only in the day-{ime, and in 
 the presence of white persons. The discipline of the church was 
 lodged in their own hands ; but, owing to their inexperience in 
 ecclesiastical government, it was deemed better that an appeal 
 should be granted to aggrieved members to a strong white com- 
 mittee appointed by the mother church — a privilege which was 
 probably never exercised. The law required that the religious 
 instructor should be a white man ; but if there had been no 
 such restriction, it would probably have been impossible to find a 
 colored man suited for the office. 
 
 After some delay and much earnest inquiry, Rev. Robert Ry- 
 land, President of Richmond College, was elected to the office. 
 His official duties were not onerous, and as his afternoons, Satur- 
 days and Sundays were unoccupied, and the pastorate would 
 make no great draft on his intellectual powers, he was unani- 
 mously selected for the important post. Of all men, he was best 
 suited for it. Deriving his support from his college services, he 
 
SETTLEMENT IN RICHMOND. 195 
 
 demanded but a small salary of the church, and that he devoted 
 to the promotion of their interests. The colored people were 
 emotional, fond of excitement, and would have been pleased with 
 a declamatory and superficial preacher. Dr. Ryland — not then 
 Doctor, but he soon received the title — was an eminently plain, 
 instructive and practical preacher, dealing chiefly with the con- 
 science rather than the passions. His aim was to make his 
 hearers think rather than to feel, and to act rather than to 
 speculate. His ministry was precisely adapted to correct the 
 errors and to repress the extravagances into which his hearers 
 were prone to run. 
 
 The pastorate of Dr. Ryland was eminently successful. The 
 colored people soon became convinced that he was their sincere 
 friend, seeking not theirs but them, and endeavoring by all 
 means to promote their best interests. Great numbers were con- 
 verted by his ministry and baptized by him. He stated that- 
 other pastors had difficulty in persuading their hearers to be 
 baptized, but that his greatest trouble was to prevent his hearers 
 from being baptized prematurely. He continued his labors 
 among his flock until, at the close of the late war, when the 
 negroes were freed, our social and civil institutions were over- 
 thrown, and it was supposed by those who assumed to be the 
 leaders of the colored people, that they needed a pastor more in 
 sympathy with the new order of things ; and the doctor quietly 
 retired from the post which he had so long and so usefully filled. 
 Multitudes of negroes here remember the faithful and disinter- 
 ested labors of their old pastor with profound gratitude, and 
 hold his name in the highest veneration. 
 
 The labors of Dr. Ryland contributed largely to the almost 
 unparalleled religious prosperity of the colored people in this 
 city. They have five large houses of worship and a membership 
 of over thirteen thousand ; this number, however, is nominal 
 rather than exact. It is not possible for the churches, in the 
 homeless condition and with the migratory habits of their mem- 
 bers, to keep exact registers of them. Still they approximate 
 the number stated ; and their progress in knowledge and effi- 
 ciency is truly remarkable and gratifying. The organization of 
 the First African Church marks an era in the history of the 
 
196 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 evangelization of the colored people in this city. It may be 
 proper to state that there were prosperous African Churches in 
 Norfolk and Petersburg, and perhaps other places, before one 
 was formed here. 
 
 The reader may desire to know what was the result of the op- 
 position to the organization of the African Church. It led to no 
 violence, but continued for years to display itself in constant 
 watching for violations of the laws, complaints and reproaches. 
 The high character of Dr. Ryland, and his prudent course, grad- 
 ually, among all pious, and even considerate, people, quelled 
 opposition and secured their confidence in the wisdom and use- 
 fulness of the measure. Attempts were made to have its active 
 supporters indicted by the grand jury, but they failed. 
 
 I desire to repeat a fact in honor of Rev. William S. Plumer, 
 which I have several times published. While the formation of 
 the African Church was in contemplation, as I was desirous to 
 have the sympathy and countenance of the Protestant pastors in 
 the enterprise, I consulted some of them on the subject, and was 
 advised to call a meeting of the clergy and ask their advice. 
 When I mentioned the matter to Dr. Plumer, then pastor of the 
 First Presbyterian Church of the city, and a very popular 
 preacher, he said : " Don't do it. The clergy may decide against 
 your plan; but it is right — the law is in your favor — go forward 
 in the work, and if you have trouble, I will stand by you." 
 When he heard that an effort was being made to secure an in- 
 dictment from the grand jury against the persons who had the 
 meetings of the church in charge, the Doctor came to me and 
 said : " I wish you to understand that, in any difficulties you may 
 have concerning the African Church, I am to go halves with 
 vou." It was a noble offer, and as honest and firm as it was 
 noble. There were other ministers, I had reason to suspect, who 
 would, from sectarian influence, have been quite pleased if the 
 enterprise had ended in defeat and reproach. 
 
 Not long after Dr. Jeter went to Richmond the 
 Christian ministers of the city felt constrained to 
 make an open declaration of war against the theatre. 
 Its exhibitions had become deadly offensive to the 
 
SETTLEMENT IN RICHMOND. 197 
 
 refinement and the virtue of the community, and 
 the pastors felt that it became them to lift their 
 voices against the popular evil. To Dr. W. S. 
 Plumer, an eminent Presbyterian minister, Dr. Jeter 
 awards the honor of having opened the battle. He 
 preached a sermon in which he powerfully exposed 
 the corrupting influences of the stage, and warned 
 his people against it. He was followed by Dr. W. 
 A. Smith, of the Trinity Methodist Church, and Dr. 
 Woodbridge, of the Monumental Episcopal Church, 
 both of whom struck valiant blows for virtue and 
 religion. Dr. Jeter joined this holy crusade with all 
 heartiness, and I present here the account of the part 
 which he took : 
 
 Of my own sermon on the subject, as I remember it more 
 distinctly, I may be indulged in giving a fuller account. It was 
 the second in the series, and delivered on a Sunday evening, in 
 the old First Baptist Church, on the spot now occupied by the 
 First African, crowded to its utmost capacity. My text was 1 
 Thess. v. 22 : " Abstain from all appearance of evil." After a 
 brief exposition of the text, I attempted to show that theatrical 
 entertainments have been condemned by great numbers of the 
 wisest and best men of every age — that they are an amusement 
 utterly worthless to society — that they involve an enormous and 
 unjustifiable expenditure of money — that they have a strong 
 tendency to deterioration — that they are manifestly of demoral- 
 izing influence — and that they tend to the subversion of national 
 prosperity and independence. The effect of my sermon was 
 greatly increased by a reminiscence — whether impromptu or 
 premeditated I cannot now say — with a reference to which I 
 closed my discourse. At the burning of the theatre, the dead, the 
 dying and suffering were laid upon the floor of the church in 
 which I was speaking. Its walls had reverberated with the 
 groans of the dying and the screams of the afflicted from the well- 
 remembered theatrical catastrophe. The very floor occupied by 
 
198 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 the crowded audience had been stained with the blood of the un- 
 fortunate devotees of the bewitching amusement. I made such 
 use as I could of these startling facts to dissuade my hearers from 
 attending theatres. It was no proof of my power as a speaker 
 that facts so solemn and so pertinent to the occasion, brought 
 suddenly to the attention of the hearers, produced a deep impres- 
 sion. Of the merits of the sermon I need not speak. In a few 
 days after its delivery I was requested by a number of gentlemen, 
 among whom were several prominent members of the Legislature, 
 to furnish a copy of it for publication. It had been preached from 
 not very copious notes ; but I reduced it to writing, and a large 
 edition of it was promptly printed and widely circulated, not a 
 copy of which is now within my reach. 
 
 The managers of the theatre resolved to retaliate on the par- 
 sons. A play was selected or prepared as a burlesque on the ser- 
 mons which had been preached against theatrical entertainments. 
 I had often expressed my pleasure that a pun could not be made 
 on my name ; but I had no expectation of having the practical 
 advantage of it which I experienced on this occasion. In the 
 notice of the retaliatory play the names of the preachers — Plumer 
 (plumber), Smith and Woodbridge, in their common acceptation 
 — were ingeniously wrought, printed in large capitals, and posted 
 all over the city, to the amusement of many. My name, having 
 no meaning in English, was omitted in the burlesque. Possibly 
 I may attribute to the lack of meaning in my name what was due 
 to its want of importance. 
 
 Many years have passed since the war on the theatre, and it 
 may be quite natural to inquire whether time and observation 
 have wrought any change in my views of theatrical amusements. 
 There were arguments and statements in my sermon which, if I 
 were to deliver it now, I should deem it proper to modify ; but as 
 to the injurious influence of theatrical entertainments, my views 
 have undergone no change. There is no evil in writing, reading 
 or acting plays, provided they are of good moral tendency ; but 
 theatres, as they are commonly conducted, are of demoralizing 
 influence. Early convinced on this point, I have never attended 
 a theatrical exhibition. I am, therefore, entirely dependent on 
 the testimony of others for my opinion on this subject. I know 
 
SETTLEMENT IN RICHMOND. 199 
 
 how liable men's minds are to be warped by their tastes, training 
 and associations. It would be easy to find witnesses of equal in- 
 telligence and candor on both sides of this question. I have, how- 
 ever, found the most satisfactory testimony on the subject where 
 I least expected to obtain it. 
 
 Dr. Jeter was a strong believer in protracted meet- 
 ings. It was one of his rules as a pastor to hold a 
 series of meetings every year. He looked upon 
 them as harvest seasons, helpful to his people and 
 peculiarly effective in reaching the unconverted. 
 
 But he was never willing to conduct his meetings 
 without ministerial aid. He preferred the help of 
 some neighboring pastor, but he had great respect 
 for evangelists, and gladly availed himself of their 
 services whenever he could. The most fruitful 
 meeting which he held during his First Church pas- 
 torate was that in which he was assisted by Israel 
 Robords, a successful and noted evangelist in his 
 day. 
 
 This meeting occurred in 1842. It was a season 
 of unprecedented religious interest in Richmond. 
 In speaking of it Rev. A. H. Sands says : " My 
 earliest experience in Richmond in 1842 was the 
 continual ringing of the church bells, calling the 
 people to the churches almost every night in the 
 week. I have often heard Dr. Jeter speak of the 
 revival of 1832, when multitudes were gathered into 
 the churches, in country and city. I was not old 
 enough to remember them, but if they were richer 
 than those of 1842, happy were the people who 
 passed through them." This remark reminds me 
 that I once heard Dr. Jeter say that the revival 
 
200 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 spirit of 1832 was so widespread and overwhelming 
 that many persons really believed that the millen- 
 nium was at hand. During a great revival which 
 occurred in Richmond in the autumn of 1875, in the 
 Grace Street Church, Dr. Jeter said that it was un- 
 excelled by anything he had ever witnessed in Rich- 
 mond, except the meeting in 1842. It was during the 
 last-named revival that he baptized Rev. A. H. 
 Sands, to whom I owe special thanks for valuable 
 help rendered me in this book. 
 
 Of that great awakening in 1842, Dr. Jeter fur- 
 nishes the following account : 
 
 A GREAT REVIVAL. 
 
 The year 1842 was distinguished by a religious revival in the 
 city of Richmond of unusual power, extent and interest. It com- 
 menced in the First Presbyterian Church, under the ministry of 
 Rev. Wm. S. Plumer, D.D. About the first of March I visited 
 Portsmouth, Va., where I met Rev. Israel Robords. He was a 
 Northern evangelist, who had spent the preceding winter in the 
 South, partly to recruit his health and partly to follow his voca- 
 tion. Hearing him preach once or twice, I was pleased with his 
 preaching, and invited him to accompany me to Richmond and 
 aid me in a protracted meeting. He was, in some respects, among 
 the most remarkable preachers whom I have heard. He was 
 probably forty-five years old, tall, lean, of an unhealthy com- 
 plexion, and rather ill-favored. He gained nothing from his 
 personal appearance. His education was limited, but he had a 
 sharp intellect, and was well-informed, especially on religious sub- 
 jects. He was not an orator, but his thoughts were quite original, 
 and were expressed in a clear, nervous style, sometimes quite or- 
 nate, and even sublime. His discourses derived little advantage 
 either from his voice or his gestures. He had most extraordinary 
 power in dealing with the consciences of men. He seemed to have 
 an almost perfect knowledge of the human heart, and to be able 
 to lay bare its motives, its propensities, and its self-deceptions. 
 
SETTLEMENT IN RICHMOND. 201 
 
 People were afraid to hear him, lest he should expose their secret 
 wickedness. He was terrible in his denunciations of all kinds 
 of vice. 
 
 Elder Robords commenced his labors before a small congrega- 
 tion in the lecture-room of the First Baptist Church. Scarcely 
 any preacher was ever heard with such varying views and feel- 
 ings. Some were pleased, others were disgusted, many were 
 amused, and not a few were in doubt as to the usefulness of his 
 eccentric sermon ; but all wished to hear him again. His congre- 
 gations rapidly increased, until the spacious audience-room of the 
 church was crowded. His preaching gave great offence to many ; 
 but while he displeased some classes of his hearers, he conciliated 
 others. Against his caustic delineations of vice, he set over many 
 handsome compliments to the better portions of society. The 
 effects of his ministry were various and surprising. Under his 
 fierce denunciations of sin many writhed and went away to ridi- 
 cule and blaspheme. In the art of reproving I have never known 
 him excelled. I well remember one notable instance of his em- 
 ploying this art. He was preaching in the First Church to a 
 crowded audience, and was making pretty severe remarks against 
 some vice or error, when three or four men in the gallery, near 
 the pulpit, took offence and resolved to show their indignation. 
 They rose from their seats, and walking slowly towards the point 
 of egress from the gallery, stamped loudly as they went. All eyes 
 were drawn towards them. The preacher stopped, and, looking 
 calmly at the retreating auditors, said : " Being convicted by their 
 own conscience, they went out one by one," — the last word falling 
 on the ears of the offended critics as they escaped from the room. 
 The speaker resumed his discourse as if nothing had occurred. I 
 have never seen a Southern audience, in a religious meeting, come 
 so near to indulging in open applause as on that occasion. By 
 his searching appeals not a few were awakened, melted into tears 
 and brought to sincere repentance. . The members of the church 
 were thoroughly aroused to a sense of their obligations, and stimu- 
 lated to make earnest efforts for the salvation of sinners. It was 
 really amusing to see how some of the brethren were at first dis- 
 gusted, then offended, and afterwards conciliated and brought into 
 harmony and co-operation with the evangelist. 
 
202 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 Elder Robords continued his labors in the city, preaching twice 
 a day, and attending an inquiry meeting in the afternoon, for 
 about three weeks, in the First and Second Baptist Churches, and 
 then left to fill an engagement in Baltimore. The meetings were 
 kept up with unabated or even increasing interest in the First, 
 Second and Third — then the only white Baptist Churches in the 
 city. The pastors, Magoon, Taylor and myself, were aided by 
 such ministers as we could secure from the country — among 
 whom were Elder Jesse Witt, of Powhatan County ; Elder Jos. 
 Walker, of Hampton ; and Elder Thomas W. Sydnor, of Not- 
 toway. 
 
 After some weeks Elder Robords returned to the city and re- 
 sumed his labors. He did not, however, regain his power. 
 He preached most of the time in the Second and Third (now 
 Grace Street) Churches, and had large congregations ; but it was 
 questionable whether his second visit was of advantage to the 
 cause. In a short while he left, carrying with him the confi- 
 dence, love and best wishes of many for his welfare, and the dis- 
 approbation, if not, indeed, the downright hatred, of not a few. 
 
 The meetings, with more or less frequency, were continued in 
 the churches until the middle of the summer. Nearly 400 mem- 
 bers were added to the white Baptist Churches. Of this number, 
 about 170 were admitted into the First Baptist Church — many of 
 whom were heads of families, men of business and influence, who 
 added greatly to its strength and efficiency. What was true of the 
 First was doubtless true of the other Baptist Churches. The First 
 African Church, under the ministry of Dr. Ryland, received large 
 accessions, probably equalling in number those added to the white 
 churches. 
 
 The revival was by no means limited to the Baptist Churches. 
 Commencing in the First Presbyterian Church, it spread into all 
 the evangelical churches of the city. I have no means of esti- 
 mating the number of converts in the city, but it could hardly 
 have been less than 1500, in a population of possibly 30,000. 
 Two or three things are worthy of special notice. An unusually 
 laro-e number of the converts were immersed. Dr. Waller, a 
 Methodist pastor, baptized seventeen candidates at one time in the 
 James River, just below Haxall's Mill ; and he administered the 
 
SETTLEMENT IN RICHMOND. 203 
 
 ordinance with due solemnity, and some awkwardness arising 
 from inexperience. A Unitarian-Universalist Church then in the 
 city held what Mr. Robords said he had never heard of before 
 since he had " breath and being " — a protracted meeting, and im- 
 mersed a portion, at least, of their proselytes in the James River. 
 On the whole, I have never seen in the city of Richmond a revival 
 which, in its extent and results, equaled that of 1842. 
 
 Near the close of the special religious services there came to my 
 study a stranger, probably thirty years old, of the ordinary size, 
 of ruddy complexion, of genteel appearance, and with a Scotch 
 brogue. He had just crossed the Atlantic in a sailing vessel and 
 reached our port. He, after a brief introduction, gave this account 
 of himself. He was a Presbyterian minister, educated and or- 
 dained in Scotland. He settled in the city of Lincoln, England, 
 not far from the Scottish border, as pastor of an Independent 
 church. Here he was succeeding pleasantly until an event oc- 
 curred to disturb his equanimity. The Scotch Presbyterians bap- 
 tize infants only when one or the other of their parents is a church 
 member. The English Independents, on the other hand, baptize 
 infants regardless of the moral character or relations of their 
 parents. When infants of persons not members of a church were 
 brought to him for baptism, he hesitated to administer the rite ; 
 but being informed that custom and church authority required it, 
 he performed the service with painful doubts of its propriety. At 
 length a child of parents notoriously depraved was presented to 
 him for baptism. His conscience revolted at the act, and he re- 
 solved not to perform it. Being assured that the refusal would 
 involve him in ecclesiastical troubles, he resigned his charge and 
 made arrangements to emigrate to America. He secured the 
 most satisfactory testimonials of his piety and good standing as a 
 minister, several of which were from persons whose fame was 
 well-known in this country, and finding a ship about to sail for 
 Virginia, he took passage on it and safely reached our shore. 
 
 An important change took place in his views on his voyage. 
 Having his Greek Testament and Lexicon, and other helps for 
 learning the will of God, he determined to settle in his mind the 
 question whether baptism should be limited to the infants of 
 church members or extended to all infants. Having left his na- 
 
204 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 tive land and passed beyond all ecclesiastical control, he was at 
 liberty to study the subject with the simple desire to arrive at the 
 knowledge of the truth. He soon became convinced that there 
 was precisely as much Scriptural authority for the baptism of the 
 infants of the ungodly as for those of church members : in short, 
 that there was no warrant from Scriptural precept, example or 
 fair inference for the baptism of either class of infants. Rejecting 
 infant baptism, he had no difficulty in accepting immersion as the 
 true baptism. His Greek Testament and Lexicon furnished him 
 ample testimony on that point. When he reached the waters of 
 Virginia he was confirmed in distinctive Baptist principles. At 
 the earliest opportunity he appeared before the First Baptist 
 Church as an applicant for baptism and membership. His expe- 
 rience and testimonials were entirely satisfactory, and he was bap- 
 tized, received into the church, and at the first convenient oppor- 
 tunity he publicly stated, in a convincing and impressive manner, 
 his reasons for changing his ecclesiastical relations. He was soon 
 licensed to preach, and entered on a bright career of usefulness, 
 which, unfortunately, proved to be short. 
 
 This man was Rev. Duncan R. Campbell, D.D., the late 
 lamented president of Georgetown College, Kentucky. 
 
 Several years after Robords' meeting Dr. Jeter 
 called to his assistance another evangelist, who at 
 that time was at the high point of his career. That 
 man was Elder Jacob Knapp. I believe that those 
 who knew Mr. Knapp intimately never seriously 
 questioned his piety. Some of his methods and 
 idiosyncrasies fell under severe criticism. Magnetic 
 and courageous he evidently was, but he lacked 
 poise and discretion. Had he been a wiser man he 
 would not have accepted the invitation, or having 
 accepted it, he would not have acted as he did. 
 This the reader will be forced to believe after study- 
 ing Dr. Jeter's article, which appears below. The 
 paper is really worthy of study, not for any special 
 
SETTLEMENT IN RICHMOND. 205 
 
 historic interest, but for the candid and kindly spirit 
 which it so finely illustrates in its author. I would 
 not wantonly wound the fame of Mr. Knapp, and 
 yet I feel constrained to observe that when brought 
 into contrast with him, Dr. Jeter appears to great 
 advantage. 
 
 KNAPP'S VISIT TO RICHMOND. 
 
 Elder Jacob Knapp was the most eminent American evangelist 
 of his day, certainly among Baptists. He had gained a great repu- 
 tation at the South by the results of meetings •which he held in 
 Baltimore some time about 1840. The Baptists of that city were 
 few and feeble, their progress having been greatly hindered by 
 Antinomian views, prevalent in some of the churches. The visit of 
 Elder Knapp to the city was most opportune. Large crowds at- 
 tended on his ministry, deep and wide-spread impressions were 
 caused by it, and large accessions were made to the Baptist 
 Churches. It was a new era for the Baptists of Baltimore. An 
 addition of five hundred members — many of them wealthy and 
 respectable — was made to their ranks. 
 
 A few years afterwards Knapp was invited to labor with the 
 Baptist Churches in Washington, D. C. His success here was 
 good, but not comparable in extent to that of his Baltimore meet- 
 ings. His contiguity to Richmond, at a time when our churches 
 needed reviving, led to the inquiry whether it would be wise to 
 request him to hold meetings here. There were serious objections 
 to the measure. Chief among these was the fact that he was an 
 outspoken and, as was supposed, not very prudent, Abolitionist. 
 At that time there was no little excitement in the country on the 
 subject of slavery, and the public mind in Richmond was in no 
 frame to listen even to a candid discussion of it, and was ready to 
 break out into violence upon any indiscreet interference with it. 
 Most of the Baptists desired that he should come, if they could be 
 assured that he would act cautiously on the vexing subject of 
 slavery, but many feared that he might do more harm by indis- 
 cretion than he would do good by his preaching. 
 
 Under these circumstances, Deacon A. Thomas, who was anx- 
 ious that Knapp should visit Richmond, and myself were requested 
 
206 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 to go to Washington City and have an interview with him. We 
 called on him and assured him that the brethren desired him to 
 visit Richmond, but told him plainly that any efforts on his part 
 to discuss the subject of slavery while it might be endured, would 
 certainly preclude the possibility of his usefulness. He was ex- 
 ceedingly chary in his conversation. He positively declined to 
 give any assurance that he would not preach on the subject of 
 slavery, and we as positively told him that we did not wish his 
 services, if he would not refrain from its discussion. With this 
 understanding of the case, without any pledge on his part, he ac- 
 cepted the invitation to hold meetings in Richmond. 
 
 In a short time, Elder Knapp, accompanied by Mrs. Knapp, 
 made his appearance in this city. He was then probably fifty 
 years old, short of stature, thick, with strong Dutch features. He 
 commenced his labors, under some respects favorable, and under 
 other respects unfavorable. The Baptists were united in his sup- 
 port, and intensely anxious for his success. The Anti- Abolition 
 and skeptical spirit were combined against him, and ready to 
 avail themselves of any indiscreet remark which he might utter, 
 or any imprudent step which he might make to hinder his useful- 
 ness and cast reproach on the meetings. 
 
 Knapp began his preaching in the First Baptist Church. His 
 success in Baltimore insured him large congregations from the 
 beginning. The services proceeded several days in the most sat- 
 isfactory and encouraging manner. At length, however, some 
 remark on the subject of slavery, as it seemed to us, needlessly 
 thrown into the discourse, served to fill the brethren with the ap- 
 prehension of his imprudence, and give his enemies an excuse for 
 reproaching him and his work. We cautioned him of the injuri- 
 ous influence on his ministry of these incidental allusions to 
 slavery. They could enlighten and profit nobody, but they were 
 admirably suited to dispirit his friends and to enrage his enemies. 
 He became more cautious. For some days his preaching was 
 plain, earnest and well adapted to do good, and the religious 
 feeling of the congregation was evidently increasing. It was not 
 long, however, before other remarks were made on the subject of 
 slavery, innocent in themselves, and which Elder Taylor or my- 
 self might have made without offence, that checked the rising 
 
SETTLEMENT IN RICHMOND. 207 
 
 interest in religion, and set all to watching his words in an anx- 
 ious or in a captious spirit. 
 
 Perceiving his strong desire to make side remarks on the sub- 
 ject of slavery, and that they must prevent his usefulness, we pro- 
 posed to him to continue his preaching without these impertinent 
 allusions, so well suited to divert attention from the main object 
 of the services — the conversion of sinners — and that, at the close 
 of his labors, we would call together all the Baptists of the city, 
 and give him an opportunity to deliver his views of slavery with- 
 out restraint. To this proposal he showed no readiness to accede. 
 We should have been right well pleased to encounter him in de- 
 bate on the subject under circumstances which did not threaten 
 to prevent the usefulness of our meetings. 
 
 After a week or two the meeting was removed to the Second 
 Baptist Church. The preaching of Elder Knapp was continued 
 with very little change in its character. He would make excel- 
 lent impressions by his very solemn and searching appeals, and 
 then efface them by injudicious remarks. We were tossed from 
 hope to fear, and from fear to hope, we know not how many days. 
 At length, these ill-timed remarks and insinuations that, under 
 the circumstances, might have been endured, became unbearable. 
 At the close of a service, which had been attended by a large 
 congregation, upon brief consultation among the brethren, he was 
 informed that his services were no longer desired. To prevent 
 Lumult or excitement, arrangements were made for his return to 
 Washington by the early train of the next day. We do not re- 
 member what compensation was allowed the elder for his labors ; 
 but we are quite sure, from our knowledge of the generous deacons 
 of the day, that he did not depart without his hire. 
 
 Having passed over the battle, we may now at leisure survey 
 the field of conflict. Elder Knapp was no ordinary man. He 
 had clear conceptions, strong common sense, a fair knowledge of 
 theology, a pretty thorough acquaintance with human nature — 
 Yankee, not Southern, human nature, if I may use the remark 
 without discourtesy — and a remarkably pointed manner of ex- 
 pressing his thoughts. He was neither an orator nor a logician ; 
 but was gifted in the art of illustration. His preaching had more 
 to do with the conscience than the emotions. He had a great op- 
 
208 LIFE OF JEREMrAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 portunity of usefulness in Richmond, had he known how to employ 
 it. As it was, the meeting was attended with considerable suc- 
 cess. Quite a number of additions were made to the churches, 
 and some of them were valuable. On the whole, I considered 
 him a pious man and an able evangelist. 
 
 Elder Knapp, however, was not perfect ; and, in this respect, 
 did not differ from his race. He had more obstinacy than pru- 
 dence. In his attacks on slavery he did not go far enough to 
 entitle him to praise for his heroism ; and he went quite too far to 
 be commended for his discretion. His judgment was greatly in- 
 fluenced by his feelings. I may state a fact in confirmation of 
 this remark. During the time that he was preaching at the First 
 Church he held a service in the African Church. He was greatly 
 delighted with his success. The congregation was large, and the 
 religious feeling was deep and general. He declared that he had 
 not seen so much of the presence of God since he had been in the 
 city, and expressed the opinion that his labors would have been 
 far more useful among the colored people than they had been 
 among the whites. A few days afterwards, in discussing the sub- 
 ject of slavery with him, I told him that an incidental benefit of 
 it was that a great number of the race had been evangelized. He 
 instantly affirmed that the negroes were so ignorant, and so 
 debased by slavery, that they could not be benefited by the gos- 
 pel. I called his attention to his report of the result of his late 
 service in the African Church. To me it seemed that he resorted 
 to mere quibbling to conceal a contradiction which he must have 
 discerned. 
 
 I must refer in self-vindication to another point. In the " Life 
 of Elder Knapp " there are some statements which need to be cor- 
 rected, or, at least, explained. I have not the book at hand, and 
 must rely on my memory in reporting them. 
 
 It is stated that Elder Knapp " boarded " with me during his 
 stay in Richmond. To board is to receive food and lodging for 
 compensation. Brother Knapp and his wife shared in the hospi- 
 tality of myself and family, and had the best fare that we could 
 give them. Possibly, by the word " boarded " he meant simply 
 entertained. He censured me on account of the manner in which 
 a servant of mine was clothed. These are the facts. Old Uncle 
 
SETTLEMENT IN RICHMOND. 209 
 
 Davy was a slave, almost entirely past service, who came into my 
 possession by marriage, and for whose maintenance I was bound 
 by the laws of the State, as well as the dictates of humanity. 
 Whether he or I was master, it would have been difficult to 
 decide. To me was conceded the right to control ; but as a matter 
 of fact, Uncle Davy would have his own way. He had a singu- 
 lar penchant for preserving his clothes. He had more, if not of 
 so fine a texture, I dare say, than either myself or Elder Knapp ; 
 but he wore his good clothes only on Sundays. He had an over- 
 coat which had probably been in use twenty-five years. It had 
 been patched and darned, and mended again and again, until it 
 had all the colors of the rainbow, and probably contained nothing 
 of the stuff of which it was originally made. I repeatedly ex- 
 postulated with him against wearing the relic ; but he insisted 
 that it was comfortable, and that its appearance was of no im- 
 portance. I could not have prevented him from wearing that, 
 and other apparel well suited to it, without the exercise of an 
 authority which Elder Knapp would have considered as a bitter 
 fruit of slavery, and to the use of which I had an instinctive re- 
 pugnance. That the brother gave the impressions made on his 
 mind by the beggarly garments of my old servant or beneficiary, 
 I do not question ; but whether, as a participant of my hospitality, 
 it was kind of him to report these impressions, without some effort 
 to learn whether they were founded in truth or misconception, 
 the reader must judge for himself. 
 
 It is said that Dr. Jeter was called to the First 
 Church on the recommendation of Rev. Jno. Kerr. 
 That, in itself, is a significant fact. Kerr had several 
 years before that time retired from the charge of the 
 church. He and Jeter, outside of their common 
 faith, were very unlike, and yet in this vigorous and 
 devout young man, Kerr recognized one capable of 
 the highest service. It is worthy of record that 
 from the beginning Jeter stood well with the 
 preachers. He was never specially brilliant, and 
 there was much in his manner, in and out of the 
 14 
 
210 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 pulpit, that was fairly open to criticism, but his 
 brother ministers believed in him. He was honest, 
 fervent and always brave. These qualities, when 
 coupled with brains, always excite admiration. The 
 friendship of good ministers is a precious boon for 
 anybody. It was an unspeakable blessing to Jeter 
 that in his early life he had the affection and counsel 
 of such men as Broaddus, Clopton, Rice, Fife, Taylor 
 and Kerr. While in Richmond he was intimate, 
 also, with the leading ministers of other denomina- 
 tions, and greatly invigorated by his contact with 
 them. 
 
 Nor was he less happy in the character of those 
 in his church with whom he was brought into such 
 intimate association. According to the testimony 
 of Bro. A. H. Sands, the First Church was composed 
 of very superior material. It was just such a church 
 as any whole-hearted preacher would delight to serve. 
 It had escaped from the infirmities and indiscretions 
 of its youth, and was yet unstereotyped, free from 
 inward disorders, and ready to be led to new con- 
 quests. It had really few crooked, snarly, graceless 
 men — men of disagreeable consciences who felt that 
 they were chosen of the Lord to cripple and balk the 
 pastor in his work. Not that there were no men in 
 the church who did not have decided notions of their 
 own, and who sometimes were almost fiercely earnest 
 in advocating them, but the brethren cordially sup- 
 ported him in his measures and efforts. I am told 
 that the church-meetings were models of order, 
 courtesy and fraternity. The church had noble 
 men to lead in its onward march, and it would be an 
 
SETTLEMENT IN EICHMOND. 211 
 
 agreeable task to pause here and present a descrip- 
 tion of many of them. There was James C. Crane, 
 versatile, tactful, graceful of speech, and a sort of 
 magazine of spiritual force ; there was Archibald 
 Thomas, rugged of form, outspoken even to severity 
 at times, immensely resolute, not always gentle in 
 his modes, but thoroughly true-hearted, rich in com- 
 mon sense and minutely faithful in the discharge of 
 every accepted trust; there was Richard Reins, im- 
 pulsive in temperament, quick in his movements, 
 tender as a child, spotless in his life and ready for 
 every good work ; there was James Thomas, Jr., just 
 rising then to public view, but enfolding in himself 
 the high qualities which subsequently won for him 
 eminent success in the world of trade. In him Dr. 
 Jeter found an ever-ready and judicious helper. 
 Other men there were, equally worthy and faithful, 
 whose names I must reluctantly omit. 
 
 It cannot be invidious to say that the most valu- 
 able counsellor and co-worker that Dr. Jeter had in 
 the First Church was a woman. To her, in his mo- 
 ments of solicitude and perplexity, he always went 
 and found a deep and intelligent sympathy. When 
 new enterprises filled his hands and he needed the 
 best advice, he appealed to her. Among women she 
 was pre-eminent for strength, sagacity and discretion. 
 Noble in form, gently heroic in courage, and singu- 
 larly wise in her conclusions, she exerted an almost 
 dominating influence in the church. In no small 
 measure was he indebted to her for the pleasantness 
 and prosperity of his pastorate. That woman was 
 Mrs. Archibald Thomas. In what I have said I 
 
212 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETEE, D.D. 
 
 have uttered an unsolicited and inadequate tribute 
 to one of the noblest women that I have ever known. 
 I, too, have some occasion for cherishing her memory. 
 When, an untried college graduate, I began my 
 simple career as a pastor in Manchester, Va., that 
 honored woman, then far advanced in life, gave me 
 such encouragement as came from no other earthly 
 source. It came unsought when I was a stranger to 
 her, and even to the present moment I cannot recall 
 it without grateful sensibility. 
 
 Dr. Jeter never attracted overflowing congregations. 
 He was not a man to charm fickle and floating people, 
 but I am told that his congregations were always 
 large. He preached three times a week, and rarely 
 failed to occupy his pulpit himself on Sunday morn- 
 ings. If there were visiting ministers, he would in- 
 vite them to preach either in the afternoon or at 
 night. He was very careful in the preparation of his 
 sermons, and made it a point to prepare as elaborately 
 his week-night discourses as he did those that were 
 intended for the Lord's day. 
 
 Upon his removal to Richmond he became asso- 
 ciated at once with the denominational work of the 
 Virginia Baptists. He was made a member of the 
 several boards, and took a leading part in their man- 
 agement. While an intense and thorough Baptist, 
 he never engrafted into his creed any extreme views 
 which prevented a cordial co-operation with his 
 brethren of other denominations. In Bible work 
 and tract distribution he warmly joined and soon 
 became a leader in the evangelical movements of the 
 city. 
 
SETTLEMENT IN RICHMOND. 213 
 
 In those days he was without fortune, and had 
 only a moderate salary. He lived in respectable 
 style, without display and within his income. For 
 the judicious management of his affairs he owed 
 much to his wife. She was thoroughly domestic and 
 conscientiously economical. She was liberal, but 
 greatly averse to foolish expenditures. She was so 
 plain in her apparel that he found fault with her on 
 that account. It stung his pride for her to appear in 
 a dress out of keeping with her position. 
 
 It is told that he once observed a young lady in 
 his congregation wearing a Leghorn hat with a hand- 
 some ostrich feather on it. He was struck with its 
 exceeding beauty, and, upon returning home, com- 
 manded his frugal spouse to purchase one for herself 
 just like it. The next Sunday she appeared with a 
 bonnet of exactly the same pattern, but minus the 
 feather. He scanned the new piece of head-gear with 
 a curious eye, and finally said, in a tone of disap- 
 pointment : "I reckon your bonnet is just like Miss 
 W.'s, but somehow it doesn't look the same to me." 
 The candid wife explained the difference and sug- 
 gested that the feather was a needless expense. He 
 did not see it in that light, and never rested until the 
 new bonnet had upon it the ornamental plume. 
 
 During most of the time that he was pastor of the 
 First Church he occupied a house on Fourth Street, 
 between Grace and Franklin Streets. It was a popu- 
 lar resort for the young, and its modest little parlor 
 often rang with music and cheery laughter. He 
 loved company, and was always ambitious to make 
 his home attractive. An old gentleman remarked 
 
214 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 to me lately that whenever he reverted to those 
 times he thought of Dr. Jeter chiefly as he appeared 
 in his home. 
 
 In 1844 Mrs. Jeter lost her health, and upon the 
 advice of friends he took her to Florida. Of that 
 visit he wrote a racy account, which I must omit. I 
 extract from it one incident which occurred while 
 they were in Charleston, S. C. : 
 
 We put up at the Charleston Hotel. Mrs. Jeter and myself 
 were seated in the parlor. She was pale, delicate, far from home, 
 among strangers, and depressed in spirits. In the parlor were many 
 ladies and gentlemen, healthful and gay, engaged in lively con- 
 versation. Mrs. Jeter and myself sat alone, and were silent. As 
 one of the ladies was about to leave the room, she walked up to 
 Mrs. Jeter, handed her a large and beautiful bouquet, and with- 
 out uttering a word, retired before we had an opportunity of 
 thanking her. A courtesy so considerate, kind and graceful 
 brought tears to our eyes. We knew not her name, and she 
 probably did not know ours ; but I have never since thought of 
 the event without the liveliest admiration of the delicate attention 
 of the Charleston lady. How much might be done, with little 
 cost or trouble, to cheer the sorrowing and to encourage the 
 desponding by thoughtful and delicate attentions ! 
 
 The Baptist Triennial Convention was organized 
 in May, 1844, in Philadelphia. It was intended at 
 first to foster Foreign Missions only, but soon after 
 it took up the Home Mission work also. With this 
 Convention it was hoped that the Baptists of the en- 
 tire country would co-operate, and for a while the 
 Baptists of the South sustained it with unstinted 
 cordiality. 
 
 But the slavery question soon became a bone of 
 contention, and the brethren in both sections saw 
 that a division was inevitable. The formal separa- 
 
SETTLEMENT IN RICHMOND. 215 
 
 tion took place in 1845, and as it was an event of such 
 wide-spread and abiding interest, I will publish in full 
 Dr. Jeter's account of it : 
 
 THE DIVISION OF THE TRIENNIAL CONVENTION. 
 
 At the first Triennial Convention which I attended at the city of 
 New York, in 1832, the elements of discord had begun to appear. 
 Abolition was then in its incipiency. In the next meeting 
 of the Convention, held in the city of Richmond, owing to its 
 Southern location, and the decided preponderance of Southern 
 influence, it did not show itself, though several leading Abolition- 
 ists were present. At the Convention in Baltimore, in 1841, the 
 subject of slavery began to be a disturbing element in the delib- 
 erations of the body. Conciliatory resolutions on the subject were 
 adopted by an overwhelming majority. They did not extinguish, 
 but merely repressed, for a time, the smouldering fires. 
 
 When the Convention met in Philadelphia, in 1844, the Aboli- 
 tion party had much increased in numbers and strength. It was 
 evident that an earnest conflict on the subject of slavery could 
 not be avoided. The views of Brethren were widely and irrecon- 
 cilably variant concerning it. At the North, many believed it to 
 be " the sum of all villanies," the sin of all sins, and the one evil 
 against which they should direct their heaviest moral batteries. 
 Slaveholders they considered as utterly unfit for the kingdom of 
 heaven, and their contributions to the cause of missions a blight 
 and a curse. These extreme views, however, were not in the 
 ascendency among Northern brethren. Generally, they held that 
 slavery was an evil, a misfortune, to be deplored ; but that slave- 
 holders of the South, under their circumstances, might or might 
 not sin in owning slaves. Their views amounted to this ; that 
 bad slaveholders were not worthy of Christian fellowship, but 
 that good slaveholders were. I remember distinctly that Dr. 
 Wayland said : " I believe slavery to be a sin ; but consider many 
 of the Southern slaveholders to be as free from the guilt of slavery 
 as I am." 
 
 There were conflicting views on this subject among Southern 
 as well as among Northern Baptists. None believed that slavery 
 per se was sinful. All were of opinion that the interference of 
 
216 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 Northern people with Southern slavery was uncalled for, unwise, 
 and injurious both to masters and slaves. Many looked on slavery 
 as a great blessing, to be defended and perpetuated at all hazards. 
 Others viewed it as a misfortune to be endured and made the best 
 of, under the circumstances in which we were placed, and for 
 the existence of which we were in no wise responsible. Not one 
 in a thousand believed that slavery could be abolished without 
 serious injury to both masters and slaves, with few or no com- 
 pensating advantages to either party. 
 
 The Convention, composed of these heterogeneous elements, 
 commenced its session with a reasonable prospect of discord and 
 trouble. It was deemed necessary that Dr. William B. Johnson, 
 of South Carolina, a minister of fine attainments, and an excel- 
 lent presiding officer, who had acceptably served the Convention 
 several sessions, should, as a peace-offering, decline a re-election. 
 The Abolitionists nominated Dr. B. T. Welch, of Albany, N. Y., 
 and the conservatives Dr. F. Way land, of Providence, R.I., for the 
 presidency. Dr. Wayland was elected. He was an anti-slavery 
 man, but eminently liberal in his views, conservative in his spirit, 
 and conciliatory in his manners. He was as much opposed as 
 any Southern man to the introduction of the subject of slavery 
 into the Convention, or permitting it to interfere with the co- 
 operation of Baptists, North and South, in the work of missions. 
 The business of the Convention was conducted without serious 
 trouble from the Abolitionists. The body, being composed of 
 members representing a considerable pecuniary contribution, was 
 made up largely of conservative and prudent men. 
 
 The American Baptist Home Mission Society, differing little 
 from a mass-meeting, was, from its very origin, the battle-field of 
 the Abolitionists and slaveholders. In this society occurred the 
 memorable discussion, in which the sentence, " Brother Jeter has 
 the floor ! " acquired such notoriety. The facts, as I remember 
 them, are these : Deacon Heman Lincoln, of Boston, was in the 
 chair. He was a noble layman, a gentleman of wealth, refined 
 manners, high social position, a good parliamentarian, trained in 
 the Massachusetts Senate, of which he had been a member. He 
 was neither a slaveholder nor an Abolitionist ; but he valued men 
 according to their intellectual and moral worth. The subject of 
 
SETTLEMENT IN RICHMOND. 217 
 
 slavery was under discussion — in what aspect I do not now re- 
 member — and several speeches had been made on it. I rose to 
 speak, and the President accorded to me the floor. Instantly 
 there was a vociferous demand that another should have it. He 
 had risen several times, it was said, and failed to gain the eye of 
 the Speaker. It was insisted that his repeated attempts to gain 
 the floor fairly entitled him to it. To all the demands and argu- 
 ments, the inflexible deacon persistently cried : " Brother Jeter 
 has the floor ! " It is strange t^at persons having the slightest 
 knowledge of parliamentary usage should have demanded the 
 floor for the brother on that plea. If he had risen fifty times, and 
 failed to obtain the recognition of the presiding officer, he would 
 have had no ground for the claim. His frequent failures to ob- 
 tain it might have been a plea for yielding to him in courtesy ; 
 but they did not constitute the shadow of a claim to it as a matter 
 of right. The firmness of the President prevailed. 
 
 After standing for half an hour, as I suppose, through a tumult 
 unparalleled in my experience in deliberative bodies, the floor 
 was reluctantly yielded to me. Under ordinary circumstances, I 
 should have been embarrassed and unable to proceed in the dis- 
 cussion ; but several days of intense excitement had brought me 
 to a point at which I could not be confused. I commenced my 
 speech with deliberation, and continued it to the end with free- 
 dom and calmness. I could not repeat my arguments, if I would* 
 and I need not, if I could. They were entirely satisfactory to those 
 agreeing with me in opinion, and were probably not noticed by 
 those who dissented from it. In truth, the excitement, though it 
 was favorable to fervent speaking, was entirely adverse to candid 
 hearing. 
 
 The meetings closed with no favorable indications of the future 
 co-operation of the Baptists North and South, in missions, home 
 or foreign. Resolutions, shortly afterwards adopted by the Ala- 
 bama Baptist State Convention, or its Board (I do not recollect 
 which), precipitated the division. The resolutions demanded of 
 the Foreign Mission Board in Boston an explicit answer to the 
 question, whether a slaveholder would be appointed a missionary? 
 The answer was promptly returned that he would not be. This 
 decision terminated all hope of union between the Baptists of the 
 
218 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 two sections in missionary work. The Boston Board had been 
 the most conservative of all our Boards. It had been the very 
 anchor of the Convention. This decision filled the brethren of 
 the South with amazement and sorrow. It was not that slave- 
 holders, under some circumstances, on account of prejudices 
 against them, would not be appointed missionaries, but that, be- 
 cause of their relation to slavery, they could not be appointed. 
 Slaveholding, among the American Indians, presented no barrier 
 to usefulness ; but slaveholders, even among them, could not be 
 employed as missionaries. Further co-operation was impossible. 
 It reduced the Southern Baptists to the condition of mere burden- 
 bearers. They might contribute to the funds of the Convention — 
 to this many of the Abolitionists were opposed — but owning 
 slaves, under whatever circumstances, precluded ministers from 
 serving as missionaries. A meeting was immediately held by the 
 brethren at Richmond, the action of the Board carefully consid- 
 ered, and a Convention invited to assemble in Augusta, Ga., to 
 decide what, under this new aspect of affairs, should be done. 
 
 Meanwhile, a called meeting of the General Board of the Tri- 
 ennial Convention was held in Providence, R. I., to confer on the 
 proper action of the body in the exigency. Rev. James B. Taylor 
 and myself, at the request of the brethren here, attended the 
 meeting. We were most cordially and pleasantly entertained in 
 the family of Dr. Way] and. I never saw so much of him as on 
 this occasion, and I was deeply impressed by his large-hearted 
 liberality and his sound wisdom. After free and full consulta- 
 tion with the brethren, especially Dr. Wayland, a separation of 
 the Baptists, North and South, was deemed best for all parties. 
 Division was inevitable. If the Baptists of the South did not 
 withdraw, it was foreseen that the Abolitionists and Conservatives 
 of the North would be rent asunder in their Churches, Associa- 
 tions and Mission Societies. Much as a sectional division was to 
 be deplored, it was deemed far less injurious to our cause than a 
 separation on the principle, styled by the Presbyterians " elective 
 affinity," and on which they had then recently divided. Taylor 
 and myself returned to the South with the assurance of the wisest 
 and most conservative of the Northern brethren, that the forma- 
 tion of a Southern Convention would meet their approbation and 
 secure their earnest prayers for its success. 
 
SETTLEMENT IN RICHMOND. 219 
 
 I cannot dwell upon the events which followed. 
 Upon the return of Taylor and Jeter from the meet- 
 ing in Providence, they reported the result to the 
 Virginia Foreign Mission Society. That body de- 
 termined to call a meeting of Southern brethren 
 for conference as to the propriety of organizing a new 
 Convention. 
 
 They named May 8th, 1845, as the time, and 
 Augusta, Ga., as the place. The paper which was 
 sent abroad inviting this conference was prepared by 
 Dr. Jeter, and was a marvel of good judgment and 
 prudence. That it was kindly received is sufficiently 
 attested by the fact that 310 delegates from various 
 States of the South appeared in Augusta at the ap- 
 pointed time and proceeded with great harmony to 
 organize the Southern Baptist Convention. 
 
 In that movement Dr. Jeter took a foremost and 
 enthusiastic part. The Convention organized the 
 Foreign and Home Mission Boards, locating the 
 former at Richmond, Va., and making Jeter its presi- 
 dent and James B. Taylor its corresponding secre- 
 tary. In Dr. H. A. Tupper's admirable history of 
 the Foreign Missions of the Southern Baptist Con- 
 vention he furnishes a full account of those stirring 
 times. 
 
 In happy contrast with the strife which led to the 
 dismemberment of the old Triennial Convention was 
 an event which occurred in Richmond on the 8th of 
 February, 1846. I refer to the reception tendered 
 to Dr. Adoniram Judson, which was held in the First 
 Baptist Church, and at which Dr. Jeter made the 
 address. It showed that in his heart there was no 
 
220 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 sectional rancor. Dr. Jeter's address was one of the 
 best of his life, and was received everywhere with 
 favor. I believe it has been published in every life 
 of Dr. Judson that has been written. I am sorry to 
 omit it. I give at least its closing paragraphs : 
 
 But I must close my remarks. Brother Judson, we are ac- 
 quainted with your history. We have marked your labors — have 
 sympathized in your various sufferings — have shed many a tear 
 at the foot of the " Hopia-tree," — have gone, in fancy, on mourn- 
 ful pilgrimage to the rocky island of St. Helena — have rejoiced 
 in your successes and the successes of your devoted associates — 
 and have long and fervently wished to see your face in the flesh. 
 This privilege we now enjoy. Welcome, thrice welcome, are 
 you, my brother, to our city — our churches — our bosoms. I 
 speak as the representative of Southern Baptists. We love you 
 for the truth's sake, and for your labors in the cause of Christ. 
 We honor you as the father of American missions. 
 
 One thought pains us. To-morrow morning you leave us. 
 We shall see your face no more. You will soon return to Bur- 
 mah, the land of your adoption. There you will continue your 
 toils, and there, probably, be buried. But this separation is not 
 without its solace. Thank God ! it is as near from Burmah to 
 heaven as from Richmond or any other point on the globe. 
 Angels, oft commissioned to convey to heaven the departing 
 spirits of pious Burmans and Karens, have learned the way to 
 that dark land. When dismissed from your toils and sufferings, 
 they will be in readiness to perform the same service for you. 
 God grant that we may all meet in that bright world. There 
 sin shall no more annoy us, separations no more pain us, and 
 every power find full and sweet employ in the service of Christ ! 
 
 And now, my brother, I give my hand in token of affection to 
 you, and of your cordial reception among us. ' 
 
 Mrs. Sarah Ann Jeter died October 29th, 1847. As 
 she had been an invalid for several years, her depar- 
 ture was no surprise. During the days of her feeble- 
 
SETTLEMENT IN RICHMOND. 221 
 
 ness her husband watched over her with a tenderness 
 and fidelity worthy of all praise. For nearly twenty 
 years they walked together, and she was, perhaps, 
 of all women, best suited to be his companion during 
 that peculiar period of his life. She was a deeply 
 pious woman — free from worldly ambition, calm in 
 her views of things, and not spoiled by earthly distinc- 
 tions. He respected her thoroughly, and while she 
 did not seek to control him or weary him with ex- 
 cessive advice, she exerted a safe and helpful influ- 
 ence over him. 
 
 In January, 1849, he was married again. His 
 third wife was formerly Miss Charlotte E. Wharton, 
 of Bedford County, Virginia. This lady I knew well 
 when I was a child. She belonged to one of the 
 most prominent families in Northern Bedford, and 
 was, by general consent, the most queenly and attract- 
 ive young woman in the community at the time of 
 her marriage. Her family were Episcopalians, but 
 she was never a member of that church, and soon 
 after her marriage became a Baptist. 
 
 As her mother's home was only a mile or two from 
 my father's, Dr. Jeter made our house his head- 
 quarters during the days of his wooing. I was a boy 
 then, and I recall many incidents of that sentimental 
 period in his life which must be omitted. Of Mrs. 
 Jeter more will be said hereafter. 
 
 In 1849 Dr. Jeter received a call to St. Louis, Mo. 
 For years he had been inoculated more or less with 
 the " Western Fever," and without seeking to ascer- 
 tain the wishes of his church, he accepted the call. 
 His action caused great surprise and overwhelmed 
 
222 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 his people with distress. The demonstrations of 
 grief deeply affected him and led him to question 
 seriously the wisdom of his decision. Here is what 
 he said about it in after-years : 
 
 Had I formed the slightest conception of the pain of separating 
 from a people among whom I had so long and pleasantly labored 
 and who had for me, as I had for them, so tender an affection, I 
 should not for a moment have thought of breaking the ties which 
 united us. I took leave of them at the close of an afternoon 
 communion service. I may be permitted to say that I, at least, 
 have never passed through such a trial. There were the aged 
 brethren and sisters with whom I had taken sweet counsel — there 
 were the younger members, converted under my ministry, bap- 
 tized by my hands and edified by my instructions — there were 
 many whom I had united in the bonds of matrimony, and more 
 still whose loved ones I had followed with tearful eyes to the 
 tomb ; and to all these, at the close of a solemn communion 
 season, I was to extend the parting hand. It was too much to 
 endure. Tears, and sighs, and sobs, made a scene such as I have 
 rarely, perhaps never on any other occasion, witnessed. I 
 lamented my determination to leave the church, but I had gone 
 too far to think of retracing my steps. I had promised to go to 
 St. Louis, and to St. Louis I must go. In a future article I may 
 give some account of the events which I remember there. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 ST. LOUIS PASTORATE. 
 
 INTO every minister's life changes must come. 
 They are often unforeseen, and sometimes fill 
 him with perplexity. It is not easy always 
 even for the wisest men to find the path of duty. 
 The shallow and selfish are always quick in discov- 
 ering that the leadings of Providence are along the 
 line of their preferences. Dr. Jeter once said to me 
 that preachers ought not to expect anything like 
 miraculous guidance in dealing with pastoral calls. 
 He thought that they ought to exercise their com- 
 mon sense in settling such questions. They were 
 not required to know absolutely or in any extraor- 
 dinary way what their duty was. It was right, he 
 said, for ministers, under such circumstances, to seek 
 for Divine direction, and then, after carefully weigh- 
 ing with sober and conscientious deliberation all the 
 questions involved, to do what seemed to be best. 
 He admitted that one might err even then ; but if 
 honest in his decision, God would bless him. I sup- 
 pose that he settled the question of his removal to 
 Missouri in this way. He never had any pungent 
 and sustaining conviction that he ought to accept 
 the St. Louis call. Beforehand he was in great 
 
 223 
 
224 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 doubt, and even after he had formally committed 
 himself, he was harassed with misgivings as to the 
 wisdom of his action. But he had followed what 
 seemed to be the suggestion of duty, and he was 
 always satisfied with the result. He went through 
 a whirl of confusion and excitement at the time; 
 but it is soothing to note the serene way in which 
 he looked back upon his action through the thick- 
 ening mist of intervening years. Here is the modest 
 paragraph in which he records his action: 
 
 In the early part of the year 1849 I was invited to take charge 
 of the Second Baptist Church in St. Louis, as a successor to Dr. 
 S. Lynd. To me, few events could have been more unexpected 
 than this request. I knew nothing of the church, and the church 
 knew little of me. For several reasons the call impressed me 
 favorably. I had been long in Richmond, and had but little 
 prospect of doing more than maintaining the church in the 
 measure of prosperity to which it had reached. I had visited 
 St. Louis in the year 1844, and was profoundly impressed with 
 its importance as a field of evangelical labor. I then thought, 
 as I still think, that no place on the continent offered, or could 
 offer, greater prospects for permanent success in ministerial labor. 
 After considerable delay, great anxiety, and much doubt as to 
 my duty, I accepted the call. 
 
 That Dr. Jeter's removal to the West was a mis- 
 take, T do not undertake to say. He did not think 
 so. It will be noticed that he touches only in gene- 
 ral terms the motives which caused him to sunder 
 the bonds which linked him to the First Church and 
 to accept the charge of a church of which, according 
 to his own confession, he knew nothing. 
 
 It implies no reflection upon his character to say 
 that possibly he never exactly knew why he went 
 
ST. LOUIS PASTORATE. 225 
 
 to St. Louis. It is a curious fact that men are not 
 the most discriminating judges of the influences 
 which shape their conduct. They never can ana- 
 lyze the intricate net-work of their environment. 
 They are imbedded in influences which, while potent 
 and over-mastering, they do not recognize. They 
 are apt to ascribe their conduct to one or more mo- 
 tives, of which they are distinctly conscious and 
 whose force they are ready to confess. If there are 
 unpleasant or humiliating facts connected with their 
 changes, they are willing to forget them. 
 
 I have hinted already that Dr. Jeter had become 
 infected with what in those days was commonly 
 called the " Western Fever." As to the possibilities 
 of the trans- Mississippi States and Territories, he 
 was an enthusiast. It was through his persuasion 
 that his father's family emigrated to Missouri. He 
 was often in Bedford in those times, and he talked 
 much of the West as an inviting field for those who 
 had their fortunes to make. He set the simple folk 
 of Bedford on fire, and some of them, under the con- 
 tagion of his eloquence, broke up in hot haste and 
 struck out for the West. It is due to history to say 
 that not a few of those who went forth singing came 
 back in sadness. 
 
 In 1844 Dr. Jeter paid his first visit to the West. 
 He went not on a tour of inspection, but to see his 
 kindred. He spent only a few weeks in Missouri, 
 where they resided, and had but limited opportuni- 
 ties for forming his judgment of the country. But 
 he was carried away. He came back in raptures, 
 and from that time forth he dealt in superlatives in 
 15 
 
226 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 portraying the attractions of the "western country." 
 As that visit evidently had much to do with his 
 decision five years afterwards, I will insert here his 
 description of it, saying in advance that many of its 
 most charming items are in no way connected with 
 Missouri. Still, the paper bristles with such bright 
 and taking points that I have no heart to muti- 
 late it: 
 
 A TRIP TO THE WEST. 
 
 At the close of the Triennial Convention in Philadelphia, in 
 1844, my friend, Rev. Daniel Witt, and myself set off on a West- 
 ern excursion, — he with the purpose of deciding whether he 
 would remove to the West, and I to see my relatives who had 
 settled in Missouri. I kept a journal of our tour, which was 
 published in the Religious Herald shortly after my return ; and 
 I may remark, in passing, that this is the first record of the kind 
 to which I have referred for reviving my recollections. It was, 
 in many respects, a remarkable journey, of which I will give a 
 brief account. 
 
 Our trip was from Philadelphia to Chambersburg by railway, 
 and from thence by coach, across the Alleghany Mountain to 
 Pittsburgh. The coach was crowded within and without, the 
 weather was rainy, the roads were muddy, our progress was slow, 
 and our condition was far from being enviable. On this part of 
 the journey occurred the extraordinary display of selfishness 
 mentioned, some time since, in the Herald, by Dr. J. M. Pendle- 
 ton, one of our fellow-passengers. 
 
 Rev. Mr. was among the travelers. He was a member 
 
 of the Convention from the Buckeye State, had taken quite an 
 active part in its proceedings, and was a man of no mean gifts. 
 His name was the eleventh on the list of passengers, and, of course, 
 he was not entitled to an inside seat. When the coach was 
 brought out at Chambersburg, he was the first to enter it, and 
 without ceremony or apology, took a choice hind seat. During 
 the journey many changes of seats were made for the accommo- 
 dation of the wet and weary passengers ; but the Buckeye trav- 
 
ST. LOUIS PASTORATE. 227 
 
 eler firmly maintained his position. After journeying all night, 
 and until late in the afternoon of the next day, through frequent 
 and heavy showers, the coach broke down beneath its heavy 
 human freight. The driver was compelled to leave the coach 
 and horses and go forward to a tavern to obtain help. He was 
 followed by the deck passengers, anxious to find a shelter from 
 the threatening rain. Among the travelers there was a Boston- 
 ian, of genial and most unselfish spirit. He had endeavored 
 throughout the trip to make himself agreeable, and diminish the 
 discomforts of the travel. He was left by the driver in charge 
 of his team. The rain beginning to fall more heavily, the gene- 
 rous Yankee came to the door of the coach and inquired whether 
 any of the passengers could lend him an umbrella. The umbrellas 
 of the inside tourists, with a single exception, had been lent to 
 their outside friends, and carried by them to the tavern. All 
 answered, except the Buckeye, that their umbrellas were in use. 
 It was soon perceived that he had one carefully covered and laid 
 at his side ; and he was requested to lend it to the exposed Bos- 
 tonian. He replied : " It is new — it has never been used — it has 
 a cover on it." " Take my parasol," said a kind lady. " No," 
 replied the generous Yankee, " I won't remain ; the gentleman 
 may take care of the horses himself." " He is right ! " exclaimed 
 the lady ; and all the passengers assented to the remark. " I 
 guess," said the Buckeye, with imperturbable composure, " he is 
 offended because I would not lend him my umbrella." 
 
 From Pittsburgh we traveled by steamer down the Ohio and up 
 the Mississippi River to St. Louis, occupying, including stoppages 
 and changes, quite a week. The trip to me was exceedingly in- 
 teresting. I was a green traveler, and to me everything was new. 
 The shores, the towns, the passengers, the customs, and the ever- 
 shifting scenes, furnished opportunities for observations and 
 yielded increasing delight. 
 
 Bro. Witt and myself spent a month in the State of Missouri, 
 visiting our friends, traversing its broad and beautiful prairies, 
 navigating its noble rivers, trying our unpracticed hands at un- 
 successful deer-hunting, and preaching occasionally, to deeply 
 interested audiences, the same gospel which in our youth we had 
 proclaimed, with so much pleasure, in the rural districts of Vir- 
 
228 LIFE OF JEEEMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 ginia. We seemed to live over again our early years. It was to 
 us a season of great enjoyment, and, I trust, of no little profit. 
 During all the month the rains, with slight intermissions, had 
 been falling, and sometimes heavily. The rivers were swelled 
 above their banks, the prairies were covered with water, and the 
 whole country was converted into mud. 
 
 On the 19th of June we left St. Louis on our return home. 
 We took passage in a steamer to ascend the Illinois River. We 
 doubt whether, in all the history of Western steamboat navigation, 
 such a trip has been recorded. Since the settlement of the coun- 
 try by Europeans, no such rise in the Western streams has been 
 known. A pillar on the levee in St. Louis, erected to perpetuate 
 the memory of the flood, shows that the Mississippi was three or 
 four feet higher than it has been at any other time within the 
 period of authentic information. The levee, quite wide and ele- 
 vated, was covered with water, and the houses on Water Street 
 were deluged by it. The river overspread the bottom on the 
 Illinois side to the bluff, a distance of eight or ten miles. On the 
 topmost wave of this unparalleled flood we commenced our home- 
 ward voyage. Whoever makes such a trip will remember it. In 
 our progress, the steamer passed along stage roads, over prairies 
 and cultivated farms, and through the streets of towns, finding it 
 necessary to change its course continually to avoid the descend- 
 ing drift-wood, with which the current, in many places, was liter- 
 ally covered. Houses might be seen submerged in every degree, 
 from the door-sill to the roof. Many signs were visible of the 
 escape of families from the devouring flood through the roofs of 
 their houses, and by boats kept in readiness for use in the last 
 extremity. The fresh in the Illinois was proportionately greater 
 than in any other river. Its banks are so high that passengers 
 on the upper decks of steamers cannot, at low water, see the bot- 
 toms on either side. At this time the banks were overflowed to 
 the depth of ten feet, and the voyagers could gaze on a boundless 
 waste of water. At Naples, a small town on the river, the stream 
 was forty feet perpendicular above Ioav water mark. 
 
 After two days' run, amid the wonders of the rushing, desolat- 
 ing flood, we landed at Ottawa, and took a coach for Chicago, 
 then a town of 7,000 inhabitants. From this place, we came in 
 
ST. LOUIS PASTORATE. 229 
 
 a steamer by Mackinaw and Detroit to Buffalo, and thence by 
 rail to the Falls of Niagara, our point of destination. 
 
 Of all the persons who have ever seen this thundering cataract, 
 we, who had just traveled on the Father of Waters, in his most 
 turbid and turbulent mood, saw it at the greatest disadvantage. 
 Things are great or small by comparison. The Niagara is a 
 great river, and the cataract is one of the wonders of the world. 
 I took much pains to get a favorable view of it. I was conducted 
 to a commanding position, and opened my eyes suddenly on the 
 scene that I might be strongly impressed by its grandeur. I was 
 disappointed. It was impossible for me to conceive that the Falls 
 were great. I thought of the Mississippi as I had just seen it, 
 ten miles wide, covered with drift-wood, and flowing at the rate 
 of five or six miles an hour. My imagination could supply all 
 the rest. I fancied that I could see the Mississippi, with its 
 enormous masses of drift-wood, dashing over a precipice, deep in 
 proportion to the width of the stream, and roaring above seven 
 thunders in the fearful chasm below. That was a cataract worth 
 looking at. The Falls before me, in spite of myself, seemed to be 
 little more than the mimic waterfalls that I sported with in my 
 childhood. I did not make the attempt to jump across the Falls, 
 but I felt as if I could do it. 
 
 After surveying the Falls from different points, and forming a 
 just estimate of its proportions, I was deeply impressed with its 
 magnitude and grandeur. It does not equal in extent and sub- 
 limity the Falls of the Mississippi River, created by my excited 
 imagination ; but it is certainly among the most interesting of 
 the earthly wonders on which I have been permitted to gaze. It 
 is worthy to be classed with the stupendous Rock Bridge of this 
 State ; the Saguenay River, in Canada, with its wild and diversi- 
 fied scenery ; Mont Blanc, in Switzerland, arrayed in the golden 
 hues of an evening sunset ; but neither pen nor pencil can give 
 the reader any adequate conception of it. The seeming insignifi- 
 cance of the cataract was the only delusion into which I fell on 
 this visit. Elder Witt and myself employed a hackman to carry 
 us to Lundy's Lane, a memorable battle-field of the War of 1812. 
 He was very civil and kind, and to save us from expense, he 
 volunteered to act as our cicerone. He had heard the popular 
 
230 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 guide so often describe the scene that it was quite familiar to him. 
 Very fluently he pointed out where the British troops were posted, 
 where Scott, with his valiant forces, advanced, and how the battle 
 raged, with varying success, until finally, victory perched on the 
 American banner. We were profoundly interested in the scene, 
 and in imagination fought over the battle of Lundy's Lane. 
 
 On returning home, I wrote out and published an account of 
 my visit to Lundy's Lane, with the impressions of the battle, 
 which I had received from our courteous guide. Some years 
 afterwards I was in conversation with a gentleman who had 
 visited Lundy's Lane. He referred to Brock's monument. I 
 told him there was no monument on the field when I was there. 
 He said there must have been, — that it stood at the head of the 
 village. I replied that I saw no village at the place. " Why," 
 said he, " you have never been to Lundy's Lane." He was right. 
 The artful but dishonest hackman carried us a mile or so from 
 the Falls, and finding that he could practice on our credulity, 
 made us believe that we were at Lundy's Lane. 
 
 We were not the first nor the last travelers deceived by guides. 
 Not long since we read an account, in a highly respectable jour- 
 nal, of Mount Vesuvius by a tourist, who had either never seen 
 it, or had been grievously cheated by his cicerone. The reports 
 of travelers in unexplored regions are, in many cases, no more 
 worthy of credit than dreams. Their uncertainty and their ex- 
 aggerations give force and interest to the admirable burlesque 
 stories of Baron Munchausen. 
 
 There has always been a sort of dumb suspicion 
 that there was, at the time Dr. Jeter was called to 
 St. Louis, some friction in his relations with the 
 First Church. It is really surprising that the mat- 
 ter was always so successfully concealed from the 
 general public. Dr. Jeter had nothing to say on 
 the subject. In all my intimate association with 
 him, he never referred to it, even in the most indi- 
 rect terms. His " Recollections " do not touch it. 
 
 It seems best to let the facts be known, as they 
 
ST. LOUIS PASTORATE. 231 
 
 are not discreditable either to the pastor or the 
 church. Dr. Robert Ryland furnishes what, I doubt 
 not, is the real explanation of the slight unpleasant- 
 ness which arose between Dr. Jeter and his people, 
 and which led to his resignation : 
 
 During the latter years of his first Richmond pastorate, a few 
 of the wealthier members of the church desired to have an organ 
 put in the house of worship, and to make the proposal easy, they 
 offered to advance the requisite means until the church should 
 feel able and willing to indemnify them. To this measure the 
 pastor was conscientiously opposed. He delivered a strong ser- 
 mon against instrumental and operatic music in public worship, 
 as wholly alien to the spirit of the New Testament. To the great 
 comfort of the more conservative element of the body, he silenced 
 the agitation of the organ question. That action, however, was 
 the latent cause of his resignation. About this time he received 
 an unexpected call to a church in St. Louis, and though ardently 
 loving, and loved by, his people, he offered his resignation, in- 
 tending to govern his course by the conduct of the church on 
 that subject. About nineteen-twentieths of his charge were 
 anxious to retain his services, but they were told that if they 
 would vote to accept his resignation, they could then, at an early 
 day, recall him to his pulpit, and thus accomplish their wishes. 
 A majority was thus induced to accept his resignation, and the 
 next morning he wrote to St. Louis and accepted the invitation 
 of the church. Arriving on his new field, he found the church 
 already furnished with a loud-sounding organ, and all the mem- 
 bers satisfied and perhaps pleased with the arrangement. The 
 question of consistency was thus raised in his mind. Was he to 
 adhere to his principles, and stir up the subject of instrumental 
 music among those who had quietly agreed to use it in their 
 worship ? Or was he, still holding his convictions, to acquiesce 
 silently in the views of others for which he was not responsible, 
 and thus preserve harmony of feeling and action between himself 
 and his new charge? After seeking divine guidance, and con- 
 sulting some of his old friends in Virginia, he concluded not to 
 disturb the custom of mechanical music among those who had 
 
232 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 already adopted it, but to urge them to " sing praises unto God " 
 and to " make melody in their hearts unto the Lord." This was 
 a wise and prudent course, but it is a delicate question to what 
 extent compromise and expediency should be allowed to modify 
 our practices in religion. 
 
 And so it was the music demon. How many pas- 
 tors have been uprooted, and how many churches 
 shattered and wrecked by the same cause ! It was 
 melancholy, indeed, that a pastorate, so remarkable 
 for harmony and usefulness, should have been dis- 
 turbed by anything. But it never amounted to an 
 open rupture, and left no permanent scars upon any 
 human heart. 
 
 Perhaps the advocates of the organ were unduly 
 persistent. They had made haste at a time when 
 delay would have been a virtue. It is due to them 
 to say, however, that they were thoroughly honora- 
 ble in the measures adopted to accomplish what they 
 really thought would be for the good of the church. 
 It was no attempt on their part to mortify or dis- 
 lodge the pastor. They loved him, while they de- 
 sired the organ. It is likely that they came to love 
 him less because he stood in their way. Some peo- 
 ple can love anything about a pastor better than 
 his opposition to their favorite measures. From Dr. 
 Ryland's hint as to the expedients employed to se- 
 cure the acceptance of Dr. Jeter's resignation, we 
 imagine that the feeling against him had become 
 quite decided and even aggressive. 
 
 I think that Dr. Jeter went astray on two points. 
 We can hardly be surprised at his opposition to me- 
 chanical music, as Dr. Ryland calls it (though I 
 
ST. LOUIS PASTORATE. 233 
 
 think it must be admitted that the worst types of 
 mechanical music are sometimes furnished by vocal- 
 ists) ; but he made a mistake in assuming an atti- 
 tude so hostile and imperious on a mere question of 
 policy. He mistook a prejudice for a principle, and 
 he lived long enough to find it out. Indeed, he 
 found it out quite soon. It was a singular provi- 
 dence which wrenched him out of Richmond and 
 took him away to St. Louis, where he might learn 
 a needed lesson in pastoral discretion. The " loud- 
 sounding organ " in his new church became his 
 teacher. It revealed to him his error, and hence- 
 forth he was quiet. 
 
 He was wrong on another point. He ought not 
 to have presented his resignation, in order to test 
 his strength at the only point in which he was even 
 partially weak with his church. A pastor's resigna- 
 tion ought not to hang on any merely incidental 
 question. When reviewing his relation with his 
 people, he ought to consider it in all of its varied 
 aspects, and then incline to the stronger side. This 
 Dr. Jeter failed to do. 
 
 But we need not criticise him now. In opposing 
 the organ, he acted with a fearless, though mis- 
 guided conscience, and in offering his resignation he 
 acted for the best, and the end is known. 
 
 It has been impossible to collect many details of 
 the doctor's pastorate in St. Louis. It lasted only 
 three years, and it has now been thirty-five years 
 since it closed. Meanwhile the city has had a phe- 
 nomenal growth, and little of what it then was, now 
 remains. The quiet and stately old house in which 
 
234 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETEE, D.D. 
 
 he preached has given place to the most expensive 
 and magnificent Baptist church edifice in the South, 
 and the church itself has grown greatly in numbers, 
 wealth and power. It would be foolish to claim for 
 Dr. Jeter any exclusive honor for the extraordinary 
 advancement which the church has made since he 
 was its pastor. It has since had other pastors as 
 true and faithful as he was, and they and he together 
 must share the public respect and distinction which 
 always wait upon faithful service. There, as every- 
 where, Dr. Jeter wrought with burning and indom- 
 itable zeal, and won success in the face of the gravest 
 obstacles. He always loved St. Louis, and to the 
 present moment he is held in grateful remembrance 
 by the Baptists of that city. In the following paper 
 he gives a cheerful and inspiring history of his West- 
 ern pastorate: 
 
 REMOVAL TO ST. LOUIS. 
 
 In the year 1849 I went to this city and took charge of the 
 Second, then the only white Baptist Church in the place. Its 
 pulpit had been rendered vacant by the removal of Rev. S. W. 
 Lynd to the Theological Seminary, then recently established at 
 Covington, Ky. St. Louis had just been fearfully scourged by 
 the prevalence of cholera. The epidemic caused a general panic, 
 drove most of the people from their homes, and sent several 
 thousands of them to untimely graves. I was prevented for 
 some time from entering upon my pastoral labors by the scourge ; 
 and when I commenced them the disease was still lingering in the 
 city. The church, reduced in number, contained about two 
 hundred and seventy-five members. Among these ^ere many 
 brethren of intelligence, piety, great devotion to the interests of 
 the church, and prosperous in business, if not rich. It was, in 
 some respects, one of the best churches that I have known. It 
 had recently completed a house of worship — then one of the finest 
 
ST. LOUIS PASTORATE. 235 
 
 in the city — and its members evinced a praiseworthy liberality in 
 the cause of Christ. My first sermon was preached to a good 
 congregation in October, 1849, from Col. i. 29 : " Whom we 
 preach, warning every man, and teaching every man in all wis- 
 dom, that we may present every man perfect in Christ Jesus." I 
 endeavored to present the theme, the manner and the end of the 
 apostolic miDistry as an example for my imitation while I should 
 labor among them. 
 
 There were peculiar difficulties to be encountered in my new 
 field of labor — difficulties which, I presume, all pastors in that 
 and similar spheres of activity have experienced. The church 
 was composed of heterogeneous materials. Few of them had been 
 converted and baptized in the city. They were immigrants from 
 England, Scotland and Wales, and from almost every State of the 
 Union. They had their peculiar views of preaching, music, the 
 manner of conducting public worship, church discipline, &c; and 
 these were as various as were the tastes and training of the people 
 in the several regions from which the members came. It was 
 almost impossible to say, do, or propose anything which would 
 secure universal approbation. This diversity, however, led to 
 great liberality and forbearance among the brethren. There was 
 a commendable readiness to yield to the decision of the majority ; 
 but, unfortunately, this submission did not include a hearty 
 assent to that judgment. Had the members of the church been 
 of harmonious views and aims it would have been of almost 
 unequalled efficiency. 
 
 A greater diversity of views on religious subjects prevailed 
 without than within the church. A large portion of the population 
 was European, fully imbued with the spirit of skepticism. In 
 preaching to them nothing could be taken for granted. The in- 
 spiration of the Scriptures, moral responsibility, the existence of 
 God and of a future state, and even the depravity of human na- 
 ture, were by many boldly denied, or artfully called in question. 
 
 As there were unusual obstacles to overcome, so there were 
 extraordinary incitements to activity in this new sphere of toil. 
 The rapid increase of the population, the spirit of inquiry and 
 self-reliance engendered by freedom from ancient opinions and 
 customs, the constant conflict of discordant views, and the cer- 
 
236 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 tainty that the people of St. Louis must eventually exert a 
 moulding influence over the religious faith and character of 
 millions of inhabitants in the great Mississippi Valley, were well 
 suited to impress on the heart of a minister the transcendent im- 
 portance of his work. He seemed to be sowing seed that would 
 increase, not merely a hundred, but more than a thousand-fold. 
 It was impossible to live in such a city without imbibing its spirit 
 of entei-prise, hopefulness and perseverance ; and this spirit was 
 as fruitful in religious as in secular pursuits. 
 
 My aim, from the beginning of my labors in St. Louis, was, 
 not chiefly to gather a large church, but to multiply throughout 
 the city agencies for its evangelization. In this aim many mem- 
 bers of the church heartily sympathized with me. Arrangements 
 were soon made for the support of two ministers for a period of 
 three years. One-half of this amount was subscribed by the 
 members of the church, and the other half by the Boards of the 
 Baptist General Association of Missouri and of the Southern Bap- 
 tist Convention. To co-operate with these ministers it was pro- 
 posed to organize two churches from members dismissed from the 
 Second Church and such unassociated Baptists as could be found 
 in the city. Two noble bands of brethren and sisters went out from 
 the Second Church — one formed the Third Baptist Church, in 
 the western part of the city, and the other Zion (now the Fourth) 
 Baptist Church, in North St. Louis. The next step was to secure 
 pastors for these infant churches. Rev. Joseph Walker, of Vir- 
 ginia, became the pastor of the Third, and I. E. Owen, from the 
 Theological Seminary at Covington, the pastor of Zion or the 
 Fourth Church. I need not attempt to give the history of these 
 churches. They lived, grew, and are now strong and flourishing. 
 
 The plan of sending out colonies from the church under my 
 charge produced a result which I had not anticipated. The 
 members who went out to organize the new churches were those 
 most in harmony with my views, and most readily influenced by 
 my counsels. My position in the Second Church was weakened 
 by the measure. The restless, discordant members remained, and 
 rendered my situation for a time unpleasant. I received no dis- 
 courtesy worth noticing from any member of the church, but 
 some of them were dissatisfied with my ministry. They were not 
 
ST. LOUIS PASTORATE. 237 
 
 nourished by it. They had been used to a different kind of food. 
 I did not blame them for their taste. I was deeply conscious of the 
 imperfection of my ministry, and would gladly have made it more 
 instructive and profitable. In a short time a way of deliverance 
 from this embarrassment was suggested. It was proposed to 
 erect a new house of worship in an inviting and growing part of 
 the city ; that the church should be divided ; and that I might 
 choose whether I would go to the new or remain in the old house, 
 with the members who wished to continue under my ministry. 
 The scheme was not fully matured, but awakened great interest, 
 met with general approbation, and certainly opened an encour- 
 aging prospect for the Baptists of St. Louis. 
 
 The Lord, however, had another purpose concerning my labors. 
 The health of my wife declined. The climate was supposed to 
 be unfavorable to it. She was intensely anxious to return to her 
 native State. I did not myself believe that the climate was un- 
 propitious to her health ; but I was unwilling to assume the 
 responsibility of retaining her where she and some of her medical 
 advisers thought her life was imperiled. I seemed shut up by 
 Divine Providence to the necessity of changing my climate. On 
 my visiting Richmond, the pulpit of the Grace Street Baptist 
 Church being vacant by the resignation of Dr. Kingsford, I was 
 called to occupy it. Attending the session of the General Asso- 
 ciation, held in Norfolk about this time, I was welcomed with 
 such cordiality, and received such proofs of the general desire of 
 the Baptists for my return to the State, that I yielded a reluctant 
 compliance with the call of the Grace Street Church. 
 
 In the summer of 1852 I returned to St. Louis to dissolve my 
 relation with the church, and make arrangements for my return 
 to Virginia. In some respects the change was pleasant. I had 
 not been long enough absent from Richmond to weaken the bonds 
 which bound me to the brethren there. Among them I knew I 
 should find more congenial society, and a less difficult field of 
 labor. Still the change was a painful one. I had formed many 
 dear friendships in St. Louis. It was, indeed, a difficult field of 
 labor, but one of surpassing interest and promise. My prospect 
 for usefulness was never more cheering than in the hour I was 
 called to leave it. With a great struggle and a heavy heart I 
 
238 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 left the growing emporium of what was then the West to return 
 to the quiet city of Richmond. 
 
 In reviewing my life in the West, after the lapse of nearly 
 thirty years, I may be indulged in a few remarks. I seriously 
 question whether any portion of it, of equal length, has been so 
 useful as that which I spent in St. Louis. While there I baptized 
 probably one hundred and fifty persons, many of whom became 
 valuable church members. The Second Church was about as 
 strong when I resigned as it was when I assumed its pastorate. 
 The organization of the Third and Fourth Churches marked an 
 era in the progress of the St. Louis Baptists. The First Church 
 had been merged into the Second ; and this stood alone until the 
 organization of the Third and Fourth. 
 
 In one respect I was greatly disappointed in my settlement in 
 St. Louis. Judging from its size and commercial prosperity, I 
 supposed that it wielded a religious influence in Missouri like that 
 which Richmond exerted in Virginia. In this I was quite mis- 
 taken. The influence of the St. Louis Baptists in the State, when 
 I resided there, was very inconsiderable. It was not the seat of 
 any of the denominational Boards. The Western Watchman, a 
 Baptist paper, was published there, but its circulation was limited 
 and its influence feeble. Besides, there was, if I did not misin- 
 terpret the signs, a prejudice among the country brethren against 
 metropolitan influence — a prejudice which has by no means been 
 restricted to Missouri Baptists. 
 
 On the whole, I deem it a fortunate event in my life that I 
 lived in St. Louis. It gave me a knowledge of mankind, which 
 otherwise I should not have acquired. It taught me the necessity 
 of self-reliance — a virtue for the cultivation of which my circum- 
 stances had been previously unfavorable. My intimate intercourse 
 with brethren of widely different views corrected many of the 
 stereotyped notions derived from my early training. I was 
 especially favored in returning to my native State before there 
 had been any material change of my tastes, habits and opinions, 
 rendering me uncongenial with my early companions, and 
 diminishing my power to do them good, I have known several 
 instances of ministers returning to their old fields of labor, after 
 many years of absence, to find that their influence was gone, and 
 
ST. LOUIS PASTORATE. 239 
 
 their prospects of usefulness sadly beclouded. By the good prov- 
 idence of God, I was restored to my early field of labor in time 
 to retain the influence which I had secured by nearly thirty years' 
 labor in it. 
 
 Dr. Ryland says that Dr. Jeter was never " at 
 home " in the West. While not a man of strong 
 local attachments, he was greatly dependent on his 
 surroundings. He never worked well, except in the 
 lead, and not then, if hitched with a balky team. 
 There was much, at that time, in the social condition 
 of St. Louis which must have chafed and worried 
 him. In his own church, there were restless and 
 contentious elements which refused to bend to his 
 kindly sway. His moderation was a frail barrier 
 when set against the dictatorial spirit of extreme 
 men. He was never an expert in dealing with 
 cranky and factious people. Broad and progressive, 
 he was, in his views ; but he was cautious and not 
 quick to take up with odd and new-fangled projects. 
 He had men in his church whose notions he could 
 not adopt, and who could not forgive him for dis- 
 agreeing with them. 
 
 This made his situation awkward, and put a strain 
 upon his nerves not easy to bear. His former lot 
 had been cast with the staid and easy-going Virgin- 
 ians, and they had generally treated him with the 
 utmost forbearance and kindness. It jostled him out 
 of his equanimity to be confronted by the sharp and 
 unyielding spirit of the new West. It made him 
 restive and put him on the defensive. 
 
 One jarring experience he had, which I once heard 
 him mention with gentle and unresentful sorrow, but 
 
240 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 which, with his usual delicacy, he omitted from his 
 " Recollections." I can now refer to it, I suppose, 
 without offence, and even without the danger of 
 identifying the party involved. There was one 
 brother, then a conspicuous figure among the St. 
 Louis Baptists, who gave him serious trouble. It was 
 largely through his efforts that Dr. Jeter was in- 
 duced to consider favorably the invitation to St. 
 Louis. He was profuse in his protestations of friend- 
 ship, and was unstinted in his pledges of co-opera- 
 tion and support. In going to that untried and 
 difficult field, the Doctor felt quite sure that there 
 was at least one man who would encircle him with 
 his sympathy and cheer him in his toils. 
 
 But, alas ! that brother's friendship was as the 
 morning cloud. Soon after he reached St. Louis, 
 the Doctor found that his ardor was beginning to 
 cool, and in a short while he became openly hostile. 
 He was soon as anxious to drive the pastor out, as he 
 had been eager to bring him in. It was a bitter 
 ordeal ; and yet what pastor has not known the 
 stings of such fickle and faithless men ? 
 
 Dr. Jeter was never a man of affairs. He always 
 said that he did not have time to make money, and 
 for the details of business he had neither taste nor 
 skill. It happened in some way, however, that 
 during his residence in St. Louis, he bought a few 
 unoccupied lots, in the suburbs of the city. These 
 he held, until they became quite valuable, and by 
 their sale, he realized an amount which, added to his 
 regular income, enabled him in his later years to live 
 in comfort, and even in modest luxury. 
 
ST. LOUIS PASTORATE. 241 
 
 In 1 852 he paid a visit to his friends in Richmond. 
 He preached at the First Church on Sunday morn- 
 ing, and a great congregation assembled to hear him; 
 but it proved to be one of his unlucky days. It was 
 expected that he would do his best, but he fell a 
 victim to his mental caprices and went utterly to 
 wreck. After announcing his text and dragging 
 heavily forward for a while, he came to an inglorious 
 halt. He struggled desperately to recover, but at 
 length, blind with confusion and chagrin, he asked 
 the choir to sing a hymn and took his seat. Who 
 the chorister of that memorable occasion was, history 
 has forgotten to record, but it is amply authenticated 
 that the brother responded to the unexpected call 
 for his services by singing — 
 
 " I love to steal awhile away." 
 
 The hit, while unintended, was so crushingly apt 
 that a wave of surprised laughter rippled over the 
 entire audience. As he walked away from the 
 church the Doctor remarked that he would be sorry 
 to think that the Richmond people would judge his 
 preaching abilities by that performance. 
 
 They did not. They knew him, and they knew 
 also that he would sometimes fail in his sermons. 
 He received soon after a gratifying proof that he was 
 still held in unabated respect by the Richmond Bap- 
 tists, in the call which was extended to him to be- 
 come the pastor of the Grace Street Church. It was 
 an unusual tribute that he was chosen to be pastor 
 in a city where he had already served so long. 
 16 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 SEVENTEEN YEAKS AT GRACE STEEET CHURCH. 
 
 IN the early autumn of 1852 Dr. Jeter bade fare- 
 well to St. Louis, and turned his face towards 
 Virginia. That the change was inexpressibly 
 grateful to him, we can easily believe. Not that he 
 loved Missouri less, but Virginia more. The three 
 years which he spent in the West, were too full of 
 earnest activity and usefulness, to allow him to be 
 miserable. He never consumed, I suppose, one hour 
 in empty lamentations or in anxious scheming to get 
 back to his native State. He always looked upon 
 his removal to St. Louis, as a manifest allotment of 
 Providence, and accepted it in a spirit of quiet 
 cheerfulness. 
 
 But his heart was in the Old Dominion. There 
 he had made for himself a place which fitted him 
 exactly, and, when out of it, he was unsphered. It 
 is not often wise for a minister, after passing the 
 meridian of life, to break up old ties and enter 
 a new country. He is like a root out of dry 
 ground. That peculiar environment of friendship, 
 reputation and influence, which is the growth of 
 years, never goes with him, and without it, he is 
 never fully himself. It is a sad day, when an old 
 man undertakes new business without capital. Dr. 
 242 
 
SEVENTEEN YEARS AT GRACE STREET CHURCH. 243 
 
 Jeter was more than ordinarily independent of out- 
 ward supports, and was never unhappy so long as 
 he was closely occupied. And yet he yearned for 
 that matured and discriminating sympathy which he 
 could not find among new friends. He needed con- 
 tact with old hearts. I doubt not that the happiest 
 parts of the three years given to St. Louis, were those 
 spent in visiting his friends in Virginia, or in antici- 
 pating or recalling those visits. I have reserved for 
 this place, one of his letters written to his dear 
 friend, Mrs. Archibald Thomas, in 1850, in which 
 he unveils his heart, in its isolation and home-sickness. 
 
 St. Louis, Mar. 6lh, 1850. 
 Dear Sister Thomas : 
 
 I have been intending for some time to address you a letter, for 
 the purpose of assuring you that your kindness to me made an 
 impression on my heart which neither distance, nor change of 
 circumstances, can efface. I should, on some accounts, have been 
 pleased to see you on my last visit to Richmond, but the inter- 
 view would have added to the pain of a separation, which, as it 
 was, was quite enough for me to bear. I have not, even yet, 
 gained fortitude sufficient to enable me to recur to that event 
 with composure. I am very sure that could I have anticipated 
 the scene which occurred in the First Baptist Church when I 
 took leave of the members, I should have remained in Richmond. 
 But an unseen hand guides our movements. I did not wish to 
 leave Richmond ; I preferred it to any abode on earth ; and yet 
 influences beyond my control impelled me onward to my decision. 
 Eternity will, I trust, show that that decision was right. I had 
 been long in Richmond ; I did not know much desire was felt to 
 retain me there; it was known that I had been invited to St. 
 Louis ; I should have rejoiced had there been a strong, earnest 
 and general demonstration of desire for me to remain ; but there 
 was, to say the least, an indifference which I interpreted to be a 
 
244 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 clear indication of my duty to remove, and my mind once made 
 up, the thing was done. 
 
 You will very naturally wish to learn how I am progressing 
 here. My situation is as pleasant as, in the absence of long-tried 
 and much-valued friends, it could be. We are keeping house, aud 
 paying a rent of $360 per annum for a house about equal to mine 
 in Richmond. We have a white servant — a German girl — who 
 is quite equal to two colored servants. Mrs. Jeter is delighted 
 with housekeeping, and her health is pretty good. A niece of 
 hers came with us from Bedford, and a niece of mine has also 
 spent the winter with us. Our church is in a very encouraging 
 state. We have had a protracted meeting (it is just now sus- 
 pended by bad weather), during which 21 have been baptized, 
 many added by letter and confession, and the prospect of success 
 is still fair. The church, so far as I can judge of it, is intelligent, 
 harmonious, efficient and affectionate. I have a magnificent con- 
 gregation, and have had during the winter, notwithstanding the 
 extreme inclemency of the weather ; but how much I am indebted 
 to the curiosity to hear a strange preacher I cannot determine. 
 The prospect of a large and uniform congregation is good. O, 
 for grace ! 
 
 I am expecting Mr. Page here shortly, on his way to California. 
 Dr. J. H. Temple is relinquishing a splendid homoeopathic prac- 
 tice to go to that region of gold and illusions. His family will 
 all be broken up and scattered. Rebecca's father is also going, 
 with dreams of a golden harvest. Indeed, Missouri is about to 
 employ half her male population in the gold mines of California. 
 
 St. Louis is a place of great enterprise and rapidly-increasing 
 wealth, but not so pleasant a residence as Richmond. The popu- 
 lation is a mixture of French, Germans, Irish and Americans, 
 collected from every State in the Union. The Americans, how- 
 ever, decidedly preponderate over all foreigners. The principal 
 merchants and leading men are Anglo-Americans, and they have 
 greatly the lead in social influence. Romanism is strong, but not 
 destined, so far as I can observe, to increase much except by im- 
 migration. Thousands of persons who come to this country 
 Romanists become first irreligious, and are afterwards converted 
 to Protestantism. But there is a great work to be done in this 
 
SEVENTEEN YEARS AT GRACE STREET CHURCH. 245 
 
 Western Valley — a mighty conflict to take place between error 
 and truth — nor need we fear the result. 
 
 Tell the Doctor that Homoeopathy is gaining ground here, and 
 that its triumphs are among the most intelligent classes of the 
 community. I do not believe, but desire that its lofty pretensions 
 may be well founded. Poor Ward ! I fear, from what I have 
 seen, that he has been a sacrifice on the altar of party proscrip- 
 tion. I am sorry, not for the Whigs, but for him. 
 
 St. Louis has been, since my arrival here, the healthiest place 
 I have ever seen. I have preached but one funeral in our con- 
 gregation since my arrival, and in all only two. We have, at 
 present, no indications of the approach of cholera. Mrs. Jeter 
 expects to pass through Richmond in May or June en route to 
 Bedford, but is somewhat uncertain. My love to all your family 
 as also those of J. Thomas and Bro. Wortham. How gladly would 
 I pass a Sabbath in Richmond ! 
 
 I am, with the highest regard, 
 
 Your greatly obliged friend and brother, 
 
 J. B. Jeter. 
 
 P. S. — I had well-nigh forgotten, though specially requested, and 
 most sincerely, I have no doubt, to send Mrs. J.'s love. J. 
 
 His object in returning to Virginia was to become 
 the pastor of the Grace Street Baptist Church of 
 Richmond. 
 
 That church was a child of the Second Baptist 
 Church. It was the offspring of a cottage prayer- 
 meeting, and had its birth in a private house on 
 Duval Street, in the northwestern part of the city. 
 When first organized, it assumed the name of the 
 Third Baptist Church. Although it was then small 
 and feeble, it had some choice men in its original 
 constituency. Among these it is pleasant to record 
 the names of Lewis L. Montague, Geo. Wood fin, Jno. 
 B. Valentine, John Jacob and Bro. J. Weisiger, in 
 
246 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 whose parlor the church was organized. In a little 
 while, it outgrew its narrow quarters, and, largely 
 with borrowed money, erected a plain brick house of 
 worship at the corner of Marshall and Second Streets, 
 and in that building had its habitation for thirteen 
 years. 
 
 Its first pastor was Rev. Henry Keeling, for many 
 years a prominent figure among the Richmond Bap- 
 tists. He was a man of decided literary and theo- 
 logical culture, and was best known, perhaps, as 
 editor of the Baptist Preacher, a sort of homiletical 
 magazine which he published. From all I can learn, 
 Mr. Keeling, though pastor from 1833 to 1837, never 
 became very intimately identified with the church. 
 He owned and occupied a handsome brick residence 
 in the lower part of the city, and becoming convinced 
 that his people were careless as to his support, 
 because of the imposing domicile in which he dwelt, 
 he addressed them a caustic letter, in which he 
 reminded them that " he could not live on bricks and 
 mortar." It was an intimation that for bread they 
 had given him a stone. Possibly the church felt 
 willing, after that letter, for him to try the experi- 
 ment of subsisting on those innutritious substances, 
 for it was not long before their connection was dis- 
 solved. 
 
 Upon" his retirement, Rev. Lewis A. Alderson 
 became pastor, who, after one year's service, went 
 West, where he had a long and honorable career as 
 a minister. During the vacancy, Rev. R. Ryland 
 and a Mr. Barker, of the Virginia Baptist Seminary, 
 alternately supplied the pulpit. 
 
SEVENTEEN YEARS AT GRACE STREET CHURCH. 247 
 
 In July, 1836, Rev. James B. Taylor, just then 
 retiring from the chaplaincy of the University of 
 Virginia, accepted the charge of the church. This 
 was, indeed, a fortunate arrangement. It was under 
 his excellent training that the Second Church had 
 been equipped for that high career of usefulness 
 which it has since run, and now, with his ripened 
 experience, systematic habits, and almost incompara- 
 ble pastoral tact, he came to perform a similar ser- 
 vice for the Third Church. 
 
 Dr. Taylor was cautious and undemonstrative, but 
 he was a great leader. He reigned supreme, but he 
 was careful not to throw out the ensigns of his 
 authority. He gloved his iron hand in velvet. 
 Through his persuasion, and not without decided 
 opposition, on the part of some brethren, the church 
 abandoned its house on Marshall Street, crossed 
 Broad, and erected another and better edifice at the 
 corner of Grace and Foushee Streets. That house 
 is an abiding monument to the energy, sagacity and 
 foresight of James B. Taylor. He marked with a 
 prophet's eye the coming progress of the city, and 
 seized the most strategic and central point in the line 
 of that progress, for the location of the new house. 
 Much of the money for that building was secured 
 through his personal efforts, and was contributed by 
 persons who were not members of his church, and, 
 in many cases, not Baptists at all. When, in 1845, 
 the church took possession of its new quarters, its 
 former name was discarded, and it became the Grace 
 Street Baptist Church. But Dr. Taylor was not 
 destined to remain with the church. He became the 
 
248 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 Corresponding Secretary of the Foreign Mission 
 Board of the Southern Baptist Convention in 1846, 
 and Rev. David Shaver was chosen as his successor. 
 Mr. Shaver was a brilliant and scholarly man, but his 
 pastorate was cut short by ill health. Ever since he 
 has been debarred from the pulpit by throat troubles, 
 but he has won distinction in the sphere of Christian 
 journalism. He still lives, and is at this writing 
 connected with the Christian Index of Atlanta, Ga. 
 
 He was followed in the pastorate of the church 
 by Dr. Edward Kingsford. He was an English- 
 man, of generous culture and high Christian char- 
 acter. He was also an able preacher and, unlike 
 Dr. Taylor, rigid and severe in his methods. He 
 had the eye of a critic, and against that which 
 seemed wrong in his sight he was never slow to utter 
 his censure. With his exacting and imperious spirit, 
 it was not easy to maintain harmony with an insti- 
 tution so intensely democratic as an American Bap- 
 tist Church. After a useful and, in the main, har- 
 monious pastorate of several years, he resigned in 
 the spring of 1852. 
 
 I may pause here to say that I never saw Dr. 
 Kingsford but once. That was in the chapel at 
 Richmond College, probably in 1857, when he deliv- 
 ered an address to the ministerial students. His 
 picture, as he stood on the little platform, is printed 
 distinctly on my memory. To my boyish eye, he was 
 the perfection of ministerial dignity— in dress fault- 
 less, in manner solemn and lofty, and with a face 
 betokening immense conviction and unbending will. 
 He was thick-set, well-rounded, cleanly shaven, with 
 
SEVENTEEN YEARS AT GRACE STREET CHURCH. 249 
 
 a tinge of British floridity in his complexion, a 
 neatly-fitting wig and a snowy cravat, and was then 
 probably sixty years of age. From his address, a 
 half-hour in length, I learned more as to the ambi- 
 tious conceits, crooked devices and ugly jealousies 
 of preachers than I had learned in all my previous 
 life. It was a strong address, but too severely criti- 
 cal and sarcastic, to be well suited to a lot of simple- 
 hearted college boys. 
 
 It was a noteworthy coincidence that in each of 
 his Richmond pastorates Dr. Jeter had an English- 
 man for his predecessor. 
 
 He received his call to the Grace Street Church 
 while on a visit to Virginia in 1852. It has been 
 hinted that the church was influenced, in part, at 
 least, in selecting him for its pastor, by the hope that 
 many members of the First Church, resident in the 
 western part of the city, would cast their lots with 
 him in his new field. He, too, may have cherished 
 this hope, and if he did, he ought not to be blamed, 
 for at that time the church was not strong, either in 
 wealth or numbers. 
 
 If he and his people had flattered themselves with 
 this hope, they were doomed to disappointment. 
 The ecclesiastical tie is usually stronger than that 
 which exists between the pastor and the people. 
 And it ought to be. It is said that at the time of 
 his installation, Dr. Ryland, with that bluntness of 
 speech which is a part of himself, curtly announced 
 that it need not be expected that the First Church 
 would furnish any recruits for the re-enforcement of 
 Grace Street. He said they were not coming, and 
 
250 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 they did not. Mr. Sands has said facetiously that 
 Dr. Byland must have been a prophet, inasmuch as 
 only one member of the First Church ever followed 
 Dr. Jeter, and that was an accomplished and lovely 
 Christian woman, who, in after-years, became, first 
 the mistress of his heart, and then a member of his 
 flock. The record shows that there were occasional 
 transfers of membership from the First to Grace 
 Street, but they were made for convenience, and not 
 through his solicitations. But Dr. Jeter had no 
 reason for discouragement. While his new charge 
 was not so conspicuous or wealthy as the old, there 
 was much in it to enlist his heart and inspire his 
 hopes. 
 
 He found himself sustained by an excellent corps 
 of Christian workers. John B. Valentine, one of his 
 oldest members, was a brother of unique character. 
 Dr. Jeter said of him, at his funeral, that he was 
 cast in a rugged mould, and, but for the grace of 
 God, would have been a dangerous man. He pos- 
 sessed a blunt, but kindly sort of piety, a wonderful 
 memory, and was looked upon as an animated Bibli- 
 cal encyclopaedia. He was an eagle-eyed listener, and 
 would not hesitate to rise to his feet in the midst ol 
 a sermon and say : " Bro. Jeter, you did not quote 
 that Scripture correctly." But he did it pleasantly. 
 
 John Jacob and his son, Caleb, were then promi- 
 nent in the councils of the church — both deacons, 
 and men of earnest devotion. 
 
 Wellington Goddin, another deacon, was in his 
 prime. Rich, spotless in his life, trustful and trusted, 
 an ardent lover of his church, he knew no higher 
 
SEVENTEEN YEARS AT GRACE STREET CHURCH. 251 
 
 honor than to uphold Dr. Jeter in every enterprise. 
 Prof. Geo. E. Dabney, of Richmond College, was a 
 gentleman of classic tastes and deep piety — never 
 notably active, but always on hand and true. Dr. 
 A. J. Coons, who followed Dr. Jeter from St. Louis, 
 was a courtly man, a confidential friend and ready 
 helper of his pastor. John E. Henderson, while 
 irascible in his temper, was so evidently sincere, 
 conscientious and attentive, that he was of great 
 value in the church. It was, as I can gratefully 
 testify, his peculiar joy to help his pastor. 
 
 A. H. Sands, then a gifted young lawyer, was 
 chosen a deacon soon after Dr. Jeter came, and was, 
 perhaps, the most intellectual and progressive leader 
 in the church. To this list ought to be added many 
 others — the Rylands, Crutchfields, Evanses, Minors, 
 Manlys, Starkes, etc., who accorded to the pastor 
 the highest and most affectionate support. They 
 revered his character, admired his preaching and 
 delighted to honor him. They esteemed it a rare 
 fortune to have him for their pastor. 
 
 The joy of his pastorate was vastly enhanced by 
 having in his church Dr. J. B. Taylor and his devout 
 and exemplary family. This household accorded to 
 him thorough and affectionate sympathy. Soon after 
 he came to the church he was gladdened by the 
 accession of Dr. A. M. Poindexter to its membership. 
 Dr. Poindexter was one of his most beloved friends, 
 a man so intensely intellectual and metaphysical in 
 his order of mind, that his presence was a perpetual 
 inspiration to Dr. Jeter. 
 
 These fragmentary statements, while they give an 
 
252 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 inadequate description of the church, will at least 
 indicate the high and stimulating quality of the con- 
 gregation. In preaching to such people, Dr. Jeter 
 felt that his best efforts were appreciated. 
 
 It is creditable to Dr. Kingsford that, when he ascer- 
 tained that Dr. Jeter was to be his successor, he worked 
 with great diligence to cleanse the church of certain 
 disorders which then existed. In this unselfish 
 undertaking he was eminently successful. 
 
 When Dr. Jeter came he found the church in 
 excellent condition. Dr. Kingsford was a man of 
 peculiar mould — rigid and censorious in his very 
 nature, and on some questions he and Dr. Jeter 
 differed very widely, but he was a man of lofty 
 Christian principle, and not really capable of an 
 ignoble act. It is one of the tests of a true pastor, 
 that he is ready, in good faith, to pave the way for 
 the success of the man who is to come after him. 
 That Dr. Kingsford did. 
 
 In entering on his work Dr. Jeter found quite a 
 debt upon the church, but in a little while it was 
 removed. With this burden off, he addressed him- 
 self to the task of enlarging the capacity and im- 
 proving the appearance of the church building. A 
 handsome portico was built in front, side galleries 
 were added, and other changes made which greatly 
 increased the comfort and attractiveness of the house. 
 
 In calling him, the church offered a salary of $1000. 
 This, he said in his letter of acceptance, was inade- 
 quate for his support, and for purposes of beneficence 
 or hospitality ; but as it was as much as the church 
 could safely promise, he would try to live on it. 
 
SEVENTEEN YEARS AT GRACE STREET CHURCH. 253 
 
 It seems to be agreed generally that the time spent 
 at the Grace Street Church was in many respects the 
 most useful portion of Dr. Jeter's life. He was just 
 fifty years of age when he returned from the West. 
 His health was well-nigh perfect, his mind was- at 
 the zenith of its power, and his field was fresh and 
 inviting. The older people say that he did the best 
 preaching of his life at Grace Street. He sometimes 
 undertook serial sermons, and while they were 
 thoroughly prepared and full of instruction, they 
 were not generally popular. He always had full 
 congregations in the morning, but it often came to 
 pass that his evening services were thinly attended. 
 This did not seem to discourage him. He was a 
 sober, real man, who was not much affected by 
 appearances. The main point with him was to do 
 his part well. 
 
 It frequently happens that men do their best work 
 in a quiet and unnoticed way. Dr. Jeter's career at 
 Grace Street was not brilliant. He had then passed 
 the more ambitious and popular point in his course. 
 He enjoyed a national fame, and was greatly beloved 
 by the denomination to which he belonged. He had 
 been successful so long, that it was assumed that he 
 would succeed in all that he undertook. It is not 
 easy, therefore, to make the reader understand the 
 value of his achievements in his last pastorate. 
 
 It is simple justice to say, however, that the church 
 was uniformly prosperous under his administration. 
 It was his custom to hold annually a protracted 
 meeting, and for those special services he always 
 made it a point to secure ministerial help. He never 
 
254 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 seemed willing to undertake a meeting alone. In 
 1824 I entered Richmond College, and, while there, 
 attended two of his meetings. They were both 
 excellent in their methods and results. In one he 
 was aided by Dr. Cornelius Tyree, a noble preacher, 
 whose evangelical labors have won thousands of souls 
 to Christ ; in the other he had Rev. J. A. Broaddus, 
 then the brilliant young pastor of the Charlottesville 
 Baptist Church. He attracted vast congregations, 
 and his simple and eloquent sermons moved the 
 people wonderfully. But it is no disparagement to 
 those brethren to say that nothing seemed to stir 
 sinners so mightily as Dr. Jeter's after-talks. His 
 exhortations, when he was thoroughly aroused, were 
 simply overwhelming. In his several other meetings 
 he had the help of J. L. Reynoldson, T. W. Greer, 
 Daniel Witt, A. M. Poindexter and others. 
 
 During his pastorate a colony went out from the 
 Grace Street Church and established itself near the 
 corner of Clay and Fourth Streets. It occupied a 
 neat frame building, and was known as the Fourth 
 Street Baptist Church. It elected Rev. E. J. Willis 
 as its pastor, and began its course as a " Test 
 Church." It ran well until the war, and then it 
 passed out of existence. 
 
 That organization had a peculiar history, and in- 
 asmuch as Dr. Jeter was closely connected with it, 
 some of the principal and related facts must be given 
 here. 
 
 Dr. Kingsford was an ultra-temperance man. He 
 maintained that no church member should be allowed 
 to engage in the liquor traffic, and for the habitual 
 
SEVENTEEN YEARS AT GRACE STREET CHURCH. 255 
 
 or moderate drinker he had no toleration. So strong 
 were his convictions, and so stern and pertinacious 
 was he in the advocacy of his views, that he suc- 
 ceeded, in a large measure, in making his church a 
 total abstinence body. At least the temperance sen- 
 timent, if not predominant, was intense, outspoken 
 and aggressive. The church was not a " test church " 
 by any formal legislation, but practically it fell not 
 far short of it. 
 
 It may be well to explain here what was meant 
 by a " test church." At that time the temperance 
 conflict had taken on a peculiar aspect in some 
 portions of Virginia. The popular agitation on 
 the question had, naturally enough, gone into the 
 churches, and not a few of them had adopted a rule 
 denying membership to all persons who would not 
 abstain from the sale or use of strong drink. It 
 became a pivotal issue, and was made a test of fellow- 
 ship. It was called the " test question," and those 
 churches adopting it were known as "test churches." 
 
 Dr. Jeter had a singular experience in connection 
 with the Temperance Reformation in Virginia. It 
 is due to him to say that he was, from the beginning 
 of his public career, a temperance man. As a mat- 
 ter of history, he and Daniel Witt, in that simple 
 agreement into which they entered in the days of 
 their youth to abstain from all intoxicating drinks, 
 formed what was the first temperance society ever 
 known in the State of Virginia. That compact was 
 not intended as a reformatory measure, but as a 
 covenant between themselves, and designed only for 
 their own benefit. 
 
256 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 Abner W. Clopton, who was really the founder 
 and leader of the Temperance Reformation in Vir- 
 ginia, admitted that he received his first suggestion 
 as to the propriety of total abstinence from Daniel 
 Witt. Under Clopton's bold and contagious cham- 
 pionship, a splendid crusade against alcohol and all 
 its attendant evils was waged in the State. That 
 movement was only a formal attempt, to apply the 
 principle which had prompted the two Bedford boys 
 to make their mutual pledge. 
 
 Jeter and Witt entered the contest with ardent 
 enthusiasm. They fought side by side with Clopton 
 and other good men, for the rescue of the people from 
 the bondage of drunkenness. In those days this 
 odious and destructive vice infested the churches 
 and found sanction in almost every home. It was 
 a terrible evil, and was rendered all the more deadly 
 by the fact that it was supported by the religious 
 sentiment of the times. Men and women, and even 
 Christian ministers, freely indulged in this insidious 
 and debasing habit, without losing their positions, 
 either in society or in the churches. Even Clopton 
 himself, the apostle of temperance in Virginia, drank 
 habitually, though not excessively, at the time he 
 began his movement in favor of reformation. When, 
 in 1825, he first met Daniel Witt, he was astonished 
 to find that he was totally abstinent; but while he 
 approved his course, he did not at once follow his 
 example. 
 
 But Clopton was a bold and decided man. When 
 once he broke his chains, he became an uncompro- 
 mising enemy of intemperance in every form. He 
 
SEVENTEEN YEARS AT GRACE STREET CHURCH. 257 
 
 organized the " Virginia Society for the Promotion 
 of Temperance," and opened the campaign in dead 
 earnest. He was at once confronted by the most 
 formidable and even malignant opposition. Churches, 
 ministers, politicians, distillers, drunkards, and even 
 many gentle women, joined battle against him. The 
 excitement was wide-spread and bitter. In that 
 memorable conflict Dr. Jeter bore an active and 
 eminent part. 
 
 He was looked upon as a leader in the temperance 
 " craze," and was often branded as an extremist and 
 fanatic. 
 
 The result was a revolution. The reformers won 
 the battle. A temperance revival swept the coun- 
 try, and public sentiment was re-cast. Various or- 
 ganizations intended to aid the good cause sprang 
 into existence. Lodges, mass-meetings, regalia, ban- 
 ners, picnics and celebrations became the fashion of 
 the times. The temperance orator was the reigning 
 sensation. 
 
 In a little while, extreme and violent men crowded 
 the ranks of the reformers and clamored for the mas- 
 tery. Temperance itself went mad, and was put to 
 shame in the house of its friends. Dissension arose 
 among the leaders. Jeter, alarmed by the extrava- 
 gance and fanaticism of certain prominent advocates 
 of the cause, came to a pause. He could not sanction 
 some of the methods then in vogue for the overthrow 
 of alcohol. He never modified his convictions, but 
 he became so moderate and conservative in his modes 
 of warfare that the extremists fell out with him. 
 He was practically ruled out as an apostate by the 
 17 
 
258 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 more advanced friends of the reformation. His 
 name was not accounted worthy of mention in con- 
 nection with a revolution of which he was really one 
 of the chief authors, 
 
 I do not mean to defend all of Dr. Jeter's positions 
 on the liquor question. It is possible that in his 
 contest with the extreme wing of the reformers he 
 became a little extreme in his conservatism, and was 
 driven into positions untenable and dangerous. It 
 may have been that his attitude was unconsciously 
 modified by the fact that, when he came to the pas- 
 torate of the First Church, he found some of the 
 most prominent, devout and useful men engaged in 
 the liquor traffic. For these men he had sincere re- 
 spect, and possibly looked too forbearingly upon their 
 business because he loved them. 
 
 On a question like this the best men often part. 
 Find an evidently good man with a marked sin or a 
 wrong business, put him on trial, and it will always 
 happen that a Christian jury will disagree. Some 
 will look at the man's fault, and be willing to de- 
 stroy the man in order to get rid of his sin ; others 
 will love the man, and be ready to condone his sin 
 because of that love ; while yet others abhor the sin 
 and faithfully strive to save the man. 
 
 It has always seemed to me that Dr. Jeter allowed 
 his love of men and his hopeful nature to render him 
 too lenient and tolerant in his views of certain 
 amusements and certain forms of business. At any 
 rate, he convinced himself that it was not sinful or 
 even improper for Christian men to make or sell ar- 
 dent spirits, and while he urged men not to drink, 
 
SEVENTEEN YEARS AT GRA.CE STREET CHURCH. 259 
 
 he was utterly opposed to their exclusion from the 
 church so long as they drank in moderation. 
 
 He and Dr. Kingsford had a sharp newspaper con- 
 troversy on the ecclesiastical aspects of the temper- 
 ance question. 1 need hardly say that it ended 
 where it began, so far as the disputants were con. 
 cerned, except, possibly, that Jeter was made more 
 conservative, and Kingsford more emphatic and ex- 
 treme. 
 
 When Dr. Jeter came to his Grace Street charge, 
 he, of course, brought with him his peculiar views on 
 this vexatious question. But he found the church 
 in quite a different mood. The impress of Dr. Kings- 
 ford was upon it. It was not long before he and his 
 brethren were brought face to face on the question 
 as to whether a liquor-seller ought to be received 
 into the church. A certain Baptist brother, in that 
 unfortunate business, indicated a desire to join the 
 church. Dr. Jeter openly favored his reception, 
 maintaining that he was a good man, a true Baptist, 
 and ought not to be denied fellowship. 
 
 But some of his people were against him. The 
 brother was not allowed to come in. The Doctor 
 took it to heart, and did not acquiesce in the wishes 
 of his brethren. He argued, agitated and persevered 
 until a majority came into sympathy with his views. 
 
 It was a costly triumph. It gave deep distress to 
 some of his people, and produced, temporarily, griev- 
 ous estrangements. The offended element, no long- 
 er happy under his reign, determined to withdraw, 
 and the result was the organization of the " test 
 church" already mentioned. 
 
260 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 Upon the dismemberment of this church, a few 
 years afterwards, its leading spirits quietly returned 
 to the mother church, and became earnest and lov- 
 ing supporters of the old pastor. It is bad enough 
 that these collisions between pastors and people 
 sometimes come, but let us thank the Lord that they 
 do not last forever. 
 
 In dismissing this subject, I must repeat that, in 
 my humble judgment, some of Dr. Jeter's positions 
 were illogical and dangerous in their influence. If 
 all men had been as pure and self-mastered as he 
 was, his teachings would have been exactly suited to 
 their wants. In basing his arguments upon what 
 he was, he drew conclusions which did not meet the 
 exigencies of weak and tempted men. His temper- 
 ance creed was ample for him, but when feebler men 
 undertook to live by it they sometimes fell. It often 
 happened that unscrupulous whiskey-traders and 
 besotted wine-bibbers seized his premises, and worked 
 out conclusions which bolstered them in wrong-doing. 
 We may not help a good cause by harsh and ex- 
 treme methods, but we may easily injure it by a too 
 amiable and incautious conservatism. 
 
 Dr. Jeter's pastorate at Grace Street included the 
 four years of the civil war. In a brief historical 
 sketch which the church put forth in 1867, grateful 
 mention is made of the fact that the pastor stood 
 faithfully at his post during all those days of alarm, 
 privation and danger. 
 
 His young men, of course, joined the Southern 
 Army, and his church was sadly crippled in its en- 
 terprises and resources. He had, at the time, an in- 
 
SEVENTEEN YEARS AT GRACE STREET CHURCH. 261 
 
 adequate income, but he bore his ills and necessities 
 with cheerfulness. He did little more than to hold 
 the church together, cheer his people in their fears 
 and sorrows, and encourage them to wait for brighter 
 times. He did not lack a congregation during the 
 war. While his own people were scattered, the city 
 was thronged with soldiers, government operatives 
 and refugees. 
 
 He was kept busy by the constant demands upon 
 his services. He was flooded with letters from every 
 part of the country, bespeaking his attentions to the 
 sick, the wounded and the strangers in the city. 
 He was never connected in any way with the army. 
 He occasionally went out and preached to the soldiers 
 in their encampments. He was also very consider- 
 ate in his attentions to those who were confined in 
 the hospitals and prisons. I remember that I accom- 
 panied him on one occasion in a visit to Libby Pri- 
 son. A son of Dr. Barnas Sears was an inmate of that 
 oft-maligned institution, and his father wrote to the 
 Doctor, asking him to visit him. It was a pleasant 
 interview. Dr. Jeter spoke to the young man of his 
 father in the most cordial terms, and offered to ren- 
 der him any relief or aid that was proper or practi- 
 cable. 
 
 As an original question, he was opposed to seces- 
 sion. He deplored the necessity for war, and sought 
 in his way to prevent it. If all men had possessed 
 his pacific and Christly temper, the country would 
 never have been torn by strife or stained with blood. 
 But he went with his people. He was emphatically 
 a war man. Espousing the Southern cause, he ar- 
 
262 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 dently prayed for the success of the Confederate arms. 
 He watched the course of events with profound solici- 
 tude, rejoicing over victories, mourning over defeats 
 and cherishing hopes, even in the midst of thicken- 
 ing disasters. But he was not bitter ; this he could 
 not be. For those against him he had no enmity, 
 and never uttered malignant prayers. He loved his 
 chosen cause, but he had no curses for his enemies. 
 
 The Richmond people will never forget one laugh- 
 able incident in the Doctor's war record. For seve- 
 ral weeks after the secession of Virginia the city of 
 Richmond was filled with wild and alarming rumors. 
 Everything was involved in chaos. No one knew 
 what was to be, and in the excited state of the popu- 
 lar mind even the wildest and most incredible stor- 
 ies were readily believed. One Sunday afternoon the 
 report spread through the city that the " Pawnee," 
 a United States war vessel, was coming up the 
 James River, with a view of bombarding the city. 
 The people were filled with consternation. There 
 were really no arrangements for defence against this 
 sudden visit of the wicked " Pawnee." 
 
 Two or three military companies were sent down 
 the river to occupy the heights with their flying 
 artillery, and do what they could to drive back the 
 invader. Every man's conduct on the occasion was 
 the dictate of his own feelings. Some fled, some 
 gave way to helpless fear, some climbed the hills to 
 see what was coming and some armed for the fray. 
 Of this valiant and heroic class Dr. Jeter was a shin- 
 ing representative. He secured an old shot-gun, 
 which, some said, was without lock or load, and set 
 
SEVENTEEN YEARS AT GRACE STREET CHURCH. 263 
 
 forth for the scene of war. It must have been a 
 curious sight, 'indeed, to behold him on a Sunday 
 afternoon, double-quicking down Broad Street with 
 an empty shot-gun, going alone to engage a United 
 States man-of-war. 
 
 This story enjoyed a wide circulation, and took on 
 various additions as it went. He was often rallied 
 on the subject, but took it in the brightest humor. 
 He said that he did not know that he could render 
 any valuable aid in repelling the threatened attack, 
 but that in such an emergency it became every citi- 
 zen to do his part, and that he hoped at least that 
 his example might quicken the courage of others. 
 
 On the 19th of August, 1861, his home was once 
 more rendered desolate by the ruthless invasion of 
 death. Mrs. Charlotte E. Jeter, his third wife, died 
 after a lingering illness, at the home of her mother in 
 Bedford. For more than twelve years — among the 
 most eventful and happy of his life — she had shared 
 his burdens and honors. She was a charming wo- 
 man, not highly cultivated, but gently reared, lovely 
 in person, full of quiet self-respect, ardent in her 
 attachments, almost unduly candid in her manner, 
 devoted to her home, not given to extravagance, 
 modestly proud of her husband and ever ambitious 
 of his success. In his saintly companionship she 
 grew steadily in spirituality and usefulness. The 
 Doctor was greatly devoted to her, and her death 
 was a grievous blow to him. 
 
 In the summer of 1862 I was with him in Powha- 
 tan County, and one evening, at the supper table, 
 some members of the company ventured to banter 
 
264 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 him on the subject of matrimony. The untimely jest 
 transfixed his heart, and, dropping his knife and fork, 
 he said, as if in a reverie, — " Ah, my noble, faithful 
 wife ! how gladly I would walk around this world, 
 barefoot and alone, to see her again ! " The outburst 
 of emotion was so sudden and real in its excitement, 
 that it hushed the playful company into silence. 
 
 By her death his home was shattered, and during 
 much of the time that he was a widower, he found 
 a congenial retreat in the family of Deacon Welling- 
 ton Goddin. In her dying moment, his second wife 
 had tenderly commended him to the care of Mrs. 
 Archibald Thomas, in whose sympathy he found the 
 sweetest solace. It was a providence, equally gra- 
 cious, which, in the sorrow that fell upon him in 
 1861, threw him into the household of the Godclin's, 
 — a gentle, beautiful family it was, bound to him by 
 strongest ties, and ever happy in ministering to his 
 wants. 
 
 It is painful to reflect that, in the eyes of coarse 
 and suspicious people, Dr. Jeter's domestic character 
 was often misunderstood. From his frequent mar- 
 riages, they were quick to judge that he was a man 
 of shallow sensibilities, and not capable of ardent 
 attachments or deep sorrows. Such a thought was 
 injustice to him. His conjugal relations were always 
 happy, and in the loss of his several wives, he suf- 
 fered an anguish which only a true and real man 
 can know. When bereft of wifely fellowship and 
 sympathy, his isolation was simply intolerable. He 
 was obliged by the very necessities of being, to ap- 
 peal for support and cheer to those whose love he 
 could safely trust. 
 
SEVENTEEN YEARS AT GRACE STREET CHURCH. 265 
 
 After his bereavement he quietly resumed his 
 pastoral tasks, and did what he could for his Master 
 under all the excitements of the times. The war 
 was raging, and the beleaguered city was a scene of 
 perpetual alarm and uproar. 
 
 Many of his friends had fled from the city, and he 
 felt keenly the loneliness of his situation. Mrs. 
 Archibald Thomas and her family had sought a 
 refuge at Pittsylvania Court-House, and had left 
 their beautiful mansion, at the corner of Marshall 
 and Second Streets, in charge of Mrs. Mary C. Dabbs. 
 This accomplished Christian woman was destined to 
 exert a marked influence over the events of his later 
 life. I introduce here several letters written about 
 this time to Mrs. Thomas, or her son-in-law, Dr. 
 Wortham. These, written in the freedom of friend- 
 ship, and with no thought of publication, will indi- 
 cate his character as a letter-writer, while they will 
 also attest the strength of his devotion to Mrs. 
 Thomas and her household. They furnish also a 
 vivid picture of the grim times of war, and show 
 with what feelings he watched the conflict when at 
 its worst. They will also enable the reader to see 
 how gradually his heart went out again in search of 
 one who would gladden him with the smile of her 
 love, and how, in God's kind providence, he found 
 her. 
 
 Richmond, June 15, 1862. 
 Dear Brother Wortham : 
 
 I assure you that the kind regards of yourself and your family, 
 and of Sister Thomas, are cordially reciprocated by me. I was 
 delighted to receive a letter from you, but the pleasure was some- 
 what marred by the information that none of you were quite well. 
 
266 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 But, however, as your sickness was slight, and perhaps more low 
 spirits than sickness, I will not deprive myself of the gratification 
 of supposing that you are all fully restored to health and spirits 
 by this time. Please accept my congratulations on your recovery, 
 and the very marked improvement in your appearances. The 
 girls are florid, Sister Thomas has picked up considerably, you 
 are as active as a boy and Sister Wortham is right fleshy. Well, 
 if you are not all just as I have imagined, it is because the all- 
 wise Father has seen that it is better to exercise you with trials 
 suited to make you holier, and to promote your eternal interests. 
 So, still I congratulate you. See Rom. 5 : 3, 4. 
 
 I have been slightly sick since I saw you, and sick on the days 
 of the great battle in the neighborhood — the last time that I 
 should have chosen for the purpose. But sickness does not con- 
 sult our taste or convenience. I am now quite well, but consider- 
 ably emaciated. I am really afraid that I am about to fall back 
 to my former skeleton condition. It seems to be a pity that there 
 cannot be a more equal distribution of flesh among animals of the 
 human species. Have you not observed that this species of mam- 
 malia are subject to greater extremes in this respect, especially in 
 the direction of obesity, than any other ? If, in proportion as 
 my body is attenuated, my mind could be sublimated — this word 
 is used in its secondary, not its primary sense — I might well 
 endure the combined process. But, alas ! whether the body 
 expands or contracts, the mind remains the same feeble, shrivelled, 
 inert thing. 
 
 I called for a few minutes on Sister Dabbs in the old, familiar, 
 hospitable mansion. Things looked pretty much as usual, but 
 the well-known faces by which I have been so frequently greeted 
 in that abode were not there. And it is, I think, good that they 
 are not there. I have no question of your Avisdom in leaving the 
 city. I wish all the women, children, non-combatants and cowards 
 (I don't include any of you in this last class), except such as are 
 employed in the hospitals or shops, were comfortably situated in 
 secure places remote from Richmond. Provisions here are very 
 scarce, and have reached famine prices : butter is selling at $1.25 
 per pound, bacon at from 50 to 75 cents, eggs $1.00 per dozen, 
 chickens $1.00 a piece, and small and lean at that, and other 
 
SEVENTEEN YEARS AT GRACE STREET CHJRCH. 267 
 
 things in the same proportion. Some efforts are being made to 
 increase the supplies for the city. I hope they may succeed ; if 
 they do not, we shall not, I trust, starve, but we shall be pinched. 
 Now, the fewer that are here, the more they will have in propor- 
 tion for their support. Beside, the city is in danger of being 
 shelled, and in that event, it will be necessary for all not engaged 
 in service, and willing to bear the perils of a bombardment, to 
 leave the city, and very difficult for them to do it. I think you 
 should feel more than satisfied that you are away from danger, 
 and, in a measure, free from the excitement prevailing here. 
 
 I can give you very little information about the war which you 
 do not obtain through the papers. There is much less apprehen- 
 sion that McClellan will get here (except he should come as a 
 prisoner) than there was a few weeks ago. The battle at Dreury's 
 Bluff put an end to the danger that the gun-boats will reach 
 Richmond. The battle of the 31st May and the 1st June has 
 damped the ardor of the Federal army in its march to this city. 
 Jackson's victories in the Valley have spoiled the programme of 
 the young Napoleon. The city is rife with rumors to-day. I 
 hardly need to name them ; they are all favorable, and if true, 
 you will hear them in due time. The probability of foreign in- 
 tervention is certainly increasing. There is extreme suffering in 
 the manufacturing districts of England ; multitudes are demand- 
 ing labor ; to get labor, they must have cotton ; to get cotton, there 
 must be peace ; and to secure peace, there must be intervention. 
 I am expecting it. Meanwhile, success attends our arms. The 
 country is invaded, oppressed, suffering, but not subjugated. Let 
 us take courage. The Lord reigns ; He can still the tumult of the 
 people, calm the angry passions of men, and turn the darkness of 
 night into the brightness of the morning. 
 
 This is Sunday ; the afternoon has been rainy, and the leisure 
 secured by the rain has given birth to this letter. I am lonely 
 here. My friends are almost all gone ; the Goddin's are staying 
 in the country near the city. Walker and myself are keeping 
 Widower's Hall. Your friends here are well. 
 
 My best regards to your family and Sister Thomas. Shall be 
 
 pleased to hear from you again. Yours truly, 
 
 J. B. Jeter. 
 
268 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 Richmond, Sept. 10, 1862. 
 Mrs. Dr. Worth am : 
 
 Dear Sister. — I promised the Doctor to write to you, and though 
 the promise was expected to be fulfilled during his stay in Rich- 
 mond, its fulfillment will not, I presume, be less acceptable now. 
 It is hardly worth my while to write you the news, as you, no 
 doubt, see the daily papers. The city yesterday was full of most 
 exciting and agreeable rumors. I need not state them — if true, 
 you will hear them ; if false, you would better not hear them. 
 The news of the last few weeks, confirmed beyond dispute, is suf- 
 ficient to fill our hearts with joy and gratitude, and inspire us 
 with confidence in the ultimate success of our Confederate cause. 
 The triumph of our arms has been wonderful, almost miraculous. 
 The best informed and most reliable witnesses testify that on the 
 late battle-fields of Manassas the loss of the Federals exceeded by 
 ten times that of the Confederates. The passage of our army in- 
 to Maryland and approach of the army of Smith to Cincinnati, 
 are exciting intense interest in the South, and great consterna- 
 tion in the North. The next thirty days are probably pregnant 
 with events deeply affecting the destiny of this continent. 
 
 Dr. W. F. Broaddus was here last week from Washington on 
 parole. His object was to secure a release for many prisoners, 
 himself among the rest, held as hostages for certain Union men 
 held as prisoners by the Confederate government. He succeeded 
 in his purpose, and left for Washington last Sunday. He is well, 
 in fine spirits, and will lay in a fund of anecdotes that will fur- 
 nish him illustrations, in and out of the pulpit, for the bal- 
 ance of his life. He is hopeful that a political crisis is approach- 
 ing at the North. 
 
 I called at the corner of Marshall and Second Streets a few 
 evenings since. I called partly from old associations, and partly 
 from new, and had a pleasant visit. Things were looking as 
 usual, except that the familiar old faces — I do not mean exactly 
 old faces, for some of them are quite young, but simply those to 
 which I had become well accustomed — were absent. Well, I 
 have something bad to tell. Let Miss Callie prepare for tears. 
 It was stated that cat and kitten had been absent for a fortnight, 
 and serious doubts were entertained whether their departure was 
 
SEVENTEEN YEARS AT GRACE STREET CHURCH. 269 
 
 not final. Alas ! how uncertain are all our terrestrial delights ! 
 By the way, there is a supposed connection between cats and old 
 maids ; but what it is, for the life of me, I cannot recollect. 
 Whether the relation is one of attraction or repulsion, and 
 whether it is indicative of good or evil, I cannot say. I have the 
 impression that it is portentous. It may, therefore, be more a 
 matter of congratulation than grief that cat and kitten have va- 
 mosed. Now, don't understand me as insinuating that Miss C. is 
 an old maid, or approaching the venerable condition indicated 
 by that phrase, — far from it. I insist that a maid should not be 
 called " old " at a period of life when that appalling attribute 
 would not be applied to any other human being. She is not old 
 at sixty, but merely approaching the period of life at which that 
 honored but dreaded state begins. In writing of cats and Miss 
 C, old maids just happened to come into my mind, and as I 
 thought I wrote, and I have had a deal of trouble to set myself 
 right in the premises. 
 
 My age and gravity demand that I should write with more 
 seriousness ; but please bear in mind that letters carry the im- 
 press of those to whom, rather than by whom, they are written ; 
 for the obvious reason that as they are intended to please, they 
 are adapted, as best the writer can adapt them, to the tastes of 
 those who are to receive them. And yet, really, I would not 
 have you to form an opinion of the estimation in which I hold 
 your taste by this letter. Wishing to fulfill a promise, and with- 
 out anything special to communicate, I have written just such a 
 letter as might have been expected. 
 
 In the middle of the last sentence I was called to see a messen- 
 ger from one of Brother Tyree's churches in Powhatan, urging 
 me to go up and aid in a protracted meeting. I came down last 
 week from Peterville, where we had a prosperous meeting — ten 
 or twelve converts, several inquirers — and the meeting last Sun- 
 day was transferred to Fine Creek Church, and the meeting is 
 said to be encouraging. I must decide by five o'clock whether I 
 will take the boat. Shall probably go. 
 
 You are kept advised, I presume, of all local news by your 
 sprightly correspondent at the corner. Dover Association meets 
 on Church Hill next week. Week after the Rappahannock 
 
270 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 Association meets at Upper King and Queen, which I purpose to 
 attend. Hope you are growing fleshy. My kindest regards to 
 your mother, whose many favors have left an ineffaceable im- 
 pression on my heart. My compliments to the girls, loved for 
 their parents' sake. Callie will see that she is not forgotten. My 
 regards to your old man. Affectionately, 
 
 J. B. J. 
 
 P. S. — Bettie, to me the dearest of children, was well when I 
 heard from her. J. 
 
 In the letter which follows, he confesses that he 
 has fallen a victim to the witchery of the fair occu- 
 pant of the Thomas mansion. It is written in a 
 strain so sportive and facetious, that every reader 
 will peruse it with unwonted zest and pleasure. 
 
 Richmond, April 15, 1863. 
 Dear Sister Thomas: 
 
 I have been for some time intending to write to you, and I 
 embrace the opportunity afforded by this inclement morning to 
 put in execution my purpose. I congratulate you on your settle- 
 ment in the quiet and, I trust, plentiful village at Pittsylvania 
 Court-House. I should think it would add very much to your 
 comfort if the Doctor would open a tavern. It would remind 
 you pleasantly of the hospitality so long and generously dispensed 
 to your friends, at the well-known stand at the corner of Marshall 
 and Second Streets. Thousands shared in that ever-flowing hos- 
 pitality, and none more gratefully than your humble servant. 
 Your removal has, no doubt, proved a serious loss to a wide circle 
 of obliged friends ; and your own heart, so thoroughly practiced 
 in the rites of hospitality, must have been under painful restraints 
 in a boarding-house. The disastrous times on which we are fallen 
 not justifying, or even admitting, the munificent hospitality of 
 your spacious city home, in past years, it would seem that the 
 nearest approach that can now be made to it is for the Doctor to 
 open a hotel, and permit you to preside, as you know so well how 
 to do, at its board. You might fancy yourself at your city home 
 
SEVENTEEN YEARS AT GRACE STREET CHURCH. 271 
 
 dispensing your bounteous hospitality to your delighted and 
 obliged guests. You would bring patronage to the inn, but cer- 
 tainly no profit to its proprietor, unless the style of your living 
 should be greatly contracted from its former sumptuousness. I 
 can assure you, I would go quite out of my way to spend a night 
 at such a hotel as you would preside over. 
 
 The mention of the mansion at the corner of Second and Mar- 
 shall Streets has awakened thoughts not entirely free from emo- 
 tion. Your removal from the city, with your highly-esteemed 
 family, at a time when so many of my friends were being scattered 
 as chaff before the wind, was to me, as it was to many, a sad event. 
 But how little I was aware of the consequences that were to flow 
 from it. Guilelessly I visited the spot, so familiar to me, and 
 where I had enjoyed so many pleasures in years departed. It so 
 happened, or rather, it was so ordered, that you had employed a 
 witch to reside in your house, and take care of your furniture. 
 Thus was I brought within the influence of her charm. I listened 
 to the voice of the Syren, and was captivated. From the love of 
 the place, or its occupant, or from both these influences, my visit 
 was repeated. The oftener I frequented the place, the more I de- 
 lighted to be there. The remainder of the story may be easily 
 conjectured. I was soon brought under the spell of the witch. 
 I was charmed, won, captured, spell-bound, and, at length, not 
 reluctantly, yielded myself to the mystic influence. I have loved 
 to visit that corner for years ; but if I take even a greater pleas- 
 ure in visiting it now than friendship could inspire, in former 
 times, though that was of no ordinary measure, you must ascribe 
 it to the witch — nay, to yourself, who placed the witch directly in 
 my path, and, by so doing, rendered inevitable the consequences 
 which have followed. As you are, in some sense, responsible for 
 these results, I must beg of you a favor, by which, as the case may 
 be, their mischiefs may be diminished, or their advantages aug- 
 mented ; and I charge you, by all the claims of friendship, and on 
 pain of incurring my displeasure (which, by the way, is no very 
 serious matter), that you promptly grant it. It is, that the witch, or 
 widow (which is the same thing in my vocabulary), may be per- 
 mitted to receive me as a boarder in your princely mansion, until 
 such time as it may suit your convenience — at no distant day, J 
 
272 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 hope — to re-occupy it. She approves of the application. I can- 
 not be happy elsewhere, while she is there. I promise to take the 
 best possible care of her, and I am persuaded that she will be no 
 less careful of your interests than she has heretofore been. Your 
 early compliance with this request by letter will add to the many 
 obligations which your kindness has already imposed on me, and 
 which it will ever be my pleasure to acknowledge. 
 
 Having finished the introduction to my letter, and disposed of 
 the trivial matters, I now come to grave matters — war, battles, 
 and, lastly, the price of turnip salad. But really, I presume, you 
 have heard so much on these subjects that it would be quite 
 refreshing to you to receive a letter having no reference to them. 
 I am sorry I mentioned them. I have nothing new to say about 
 them — nothing but what you can learn from the papers. The 
 war rages, battles are impending, and market prices are enor- 
 mous. Peace is in the future — how far, none can tell. Mean- 
 while there is no ground for discouragement in the Confederacy. 
 Our armies are brave, our generals are skillful, the enemy is de- 
 feated or faltering at every point, and good crops in the approach- 
 ing season (which the Lord in mercy grant) will free us from the 
 danger of want. I look hopefully to the end. A Christian should 
 be discouraged by nothing. Even starvation would but accelerate 
 his progress to heaven. But how much more easy is it to preach 
 in this strain than it is to live in harmony with the doctrine ! If 
 we only had full confidence in God, in His wisdom, power and 
 goodness, we should not be greatly troubled if the world were on 
 fire, and the elements were melting with fervent heat, or if, what 
 might be still harder to bear, Lincoln should succeed in subju- 
 gating the South, and reducing it to the rule of the Abolitionists. 
 
 I have not seen Mrs. Ryland and Bertie for several days, 
 though they are doubtless well and happy. I have visited the 
 Corner occasionally since they came to the city, and have had the 
 pleasure of seeing them. I congratulate you on Carrie's mar- 
 riage, especially as it meets, as I suppose it must, your entire ap- 
 probation. I am so earnest an advocate for matrimony that I 
 think a bad match is better than celibacy, provided it is not too 
 bad. For my own part, I would positively rather marry a witch 
 than not to be married at all. At the same time, I can truly say 
 
SEVENTEEN YEARS AT GRACE STREET CHURCH. 273 
 
 that I look upon it as the sorest calamity of iny life that I have 
 been under the necessity of marrying so frequently. 
 
 Present my very best regards to the Doctor and his lady, and 
 the gay birds of their nest, now putting forth their brightest 
 plumage. And now permit me to subscribe myself, if not among 
 your oldest, at least, among your most sincere, and your most 
 obliged friends, J. B. Jeter. 
 
 Richmond, July 13, 1863. 
 Dear Doctor "VVortham : 
 
 I received not long since your congratulatory letter, for which 
 accept my thanks. I cannot be sufficiently grateful to the Giver 
 of all my mercies that he has bestowed on me a companion so 
 eminently fitted to promote my enjoyment and usefulness. 
 
 For the last few weeks there has been greater excitement in the 
 city than I have ever before seen. The advance of Lee's army 
 into Pennsylvania, the fate of Vicksburg, the hourly expecta- 
 tion, for several days, of an attack on Richmond, with a thousand 
 rumors, stirred the public anxiety to the utmost intensity. The 
 highest exhilaration produced by exaggerated reports of Lee's 
 success in Pennsylvania was succeeded by a dense gloom at the 
 fall of Vicksburg, and the quasi defeat of Lee. The public 
 mind is a little quieted now ; but the situation of Lee's army in 
 Maryland, the reported presence of the enemy's ironclads in the 
 James River, the critical condition of our cause in the South- 
 west, and the struggle at Charleston, cause no little uneasiness. 
 When will these national troubles have an end ? Nothing short 
 of the Spirit of inspiration can answer this question. All human 
 calculation on this subject is utterly baffled. The South is fully, 
 solemnly, firmly resolved to secure its independence — the North, 
 with all its evil passions stirred and intensified, seems to be 
 equally resolved that the South shall not have its independence ; 
 and, if God interpose not to arrest the conflict, I see no end of it 
 short of the utter exhaustion of one or both of the parties. " The 
 Lord reigns ; let the earth rejoice." 
 
 Sister Thomas, I presume, wishes to hear something from the 
 " Corner." Things are pretty much as they were. The garden 
 is becoming more luxuriant and tangled. It needs pruning ; but 
 18 
 
274 EIFE 0F JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 only the hand that planted can trim to suit the taste of the 
 planter. The trees, shrubs and plants are, therefore, allowed 
 to flourish in the wildest luxuriance, lest an unskillful hand 
 should mar them in the eyes that view them with the deepest in- 
 terest. Some time since Mr. John B. Crenshaw, who owns the 
 house at the corner of the garden on Marshall Street, applied to 
 Mrs. Jeter for permission to cut down a mulberry tree, which, he 
 said, was injuring his lot. Of course she declined granting it ; 
 and directed him to seek permission from the owner of the prop- 
 erty. A few days since the tree was cut down, without our 
 knowledge, and whether with or without proper authority, I 
 know not. The enclosure was removed to fell the tree, and it has 
 been replaced in a bungling manner. I addressed a note to Mr. 
 Crenshaw calling his attention to the condition of the fence ; but 
 as yet it remains as it was. His tenant states that the enclosure 
 was temporarily set up, and will be properly repaired. From 
 the cow and calf nothing has been heard. A man signing him- 
 self " John James," on the plank-road in Sydney, advertised an 
 astray cow at his house, resembling Sister T.'s ; but by the most 
 diligent search I was unable to hear of any such man. 
 
 Mrs. Jeter, who joins in sincere regards to all the family, wishes 
 me to assure Mrs. Ryland of her thanks for the handsome goblets 
 received from her generous hands. Affectionately, 
 
 J. B. Jeter. 
 
 The foregoing letter has already apprised the 
 reader of the near approach of an event which may 
 be well accounted as the most auspicious and fortun- 
 ate in all of his varied and happy life. 
 
 On the 5th of May, 1863, he and Mrs. Mary C. 
 Dabbs were married. The ceremony took place at 
 the Thomas mansion, and was performed by Dr. J. 
 L. Burrows. It was his intention to start imme- 
 diately on a bridal tour, not to the North, in those 
 days, but to the South. It happened, however, that 
 the train, as was then often the case, proved false 
 
SEVENTEEN YEARS AT GRACE STREET CHURCH. 275 
 
 to its schedule and refused to go. The disappoint- 
 ment fell lightly upon him, for he returned to the 
 " Corner " with his bride, and gathering a little group 
 of congenial friends, he gave the evening to inno- 
 cent merriment. Mr. Josiah Kyland, who was one 
 of the company, testifies that he was brimming with 
 sparkling reminiscences and laugh-provoking jests. 
 
 From the time of his marriage he " boarded," to 
 adopt his word, in the Thomas mansion, to the close 
 of the war. I can not deny him the privilege of 
 bearing his grateful testimony to the worth of the 
 lady with whom, in the good Providence of God, he 
 had linked his fortunes. As this lady still survives, 
 I hesitate to speak of her in such terms of praise as 
 she deserves. It is not enough to say, that their 
 marriage was to him, the source of unmeasured and 
 ever-deepening happiness. His last days were his 
 best. It was universally conceded that his contact 
 with this brilliant and inspiring woman quickened 
 him into new activity, and stimulated him to the 
 noblest achievements of his life. It was a happy 
 fortune, indeed, which gave him such a companion 
 in his old age. In the following letter the reader 
 will find his tribute to her : 
 
 Richmond, Aug. 31, 1863. 
 Dr. A. G. Wortham : 
 
 Dear Brother — I write to give a brief account of my steward- 
 ship. The premises are safe and in good condition. Miss E., 
 some time since, trimmed up the garden walks, and it has a more 
 civilized appearance than formerly it had. It has some fruit, 
 but it rots and falls badly, very little of it promising to reach 
 perfection. In the house and furniture no visible change has 
 occurred. Our white family will take their departure to-day — 
 
276 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 Miss Emily for Petersburg, and the rest of us for Bedford — to 
 remain a few weeks. We shall carefully lock up most of the 
 rooms, and have procured a very steady, upright and careful 
 young man — Sam. McClintock, nephew of my late wife — to come 
 early in the evening and spend the nights in the chamber which 
 we occupy. All will be quite as safe as if we were present. 
 
 We had quite a flurry last Friday morning. The bells 
 sounded a military alarm, and the Yankees in strong force, it 
 was reported, were this side of Bottom's Bridge. How much 
 truth there was in the story I have not yet learned. The panic 
 has just passed away, and nothing remains of it, except the 
 remembrance the militia have of a short and wearisome campaign. 
 
 Lieut. Ryland, I learned yesterday afternoon, is much better, 
 and will soon, no relapse occurring, be on his feet again. Sister 
 J. C. Crane was buried last Friday. Her mind became a miser- 
 able, hopeless wreck, and her death was a timely relief. 
 
 When will Sister Thomas come home ? We will do all that in 
 us lies to make her stay agreeable, though as it regards table fare, 
 we can promise nothing very inviting. Still, I think that between 
 seeing company, inspecting and improving her garden and taking 
 her rest, she might pass some weeks here pleasantly ; and she 
 would, at least, be better prepared to enjoy the delights of her 
 new village home on her return. 
 
 Your friends here, so far as I know, are all well. Mrs. Jeter 
 joins me in best regards to yourself and all the family. For 
 myself, I shall, I trust, never cease to be thankful that you all 
 removed from Richmond. That removal was fraught with good 
 to me, and has changed the whole current of my life. Howbeit, 
 I shall rejoice when the time comes for you all, except such of 
 the girls as may have the fortune to marry good husbands in 
 Pittsylvania, to return in quiet safety and gladness to your loved 
 and delightful home. Yours with sincere affection, 
 
 J. B. Jeter. 
 
 Of his editorial career I will speak in a later chap- 
 ter ; but it is necessary to mention now, that soon 
 after the war he became associated witli the Reli- 
 gious Herald, as one of its proprietors and editors. 
 
SEVENTEEN YEARS AT GRACE STREET CHURCH. 277 
 
 For several years he combined his editorial and 
 pastoral labors. He speedily found that at his ad- 
 vanced age, his duties were too onerous, and in 1866 
 he secured Rev. Harvey Hatcher as his assistant in 
 the pastorate. This relation was mutually agreeable, 
 and was crowned with extraordinary success. Dur- 
 ing their joint labors, the church enjoyed a very pre- 
 cious revival, and had large accessions. Mr. Hatcher 
 withdrew in March, 1867, to accept service in an- 
 other State. 
 
 During this time Dr. M. L. James, now a distin- 
 guished medical professor and practitioner, became 
 temporarily an inmate of Dr. Jeter's family. In 
 observing his habits, Dr. James became convinced 
 that he was overtaxing his strength. He found that 
 he arose early, and worked continuously through the 
 day, and late into the night, without allowing him- 
 self time for rest or recreation. He warned him of 
 his danger, and sought to alarm him by a well- 
 grounded intimation that if he did not relax, he 
 would inevitably break down. The Doctor was in- 
 credulous, and insisted that there was no danger. But 
 he was mistaken, and Dr. James was right. 
 
 In the spring of 1867 he suffered from frequent 
 attacks of vertigo, and his symptoms became so alarm- 
 ing, that he was peremptorily ordered by his physician 
 to seek relief in rest. He realized the necessity of ac- 
 cepting advice, so manifestly wise and proper. His 
 symptoms had become serious : his brain grew slug- 
 gish ; he failed utterly in one or two attempts to 
 preach : his pen lost its vigor, and he felt apprehensive 
 of paralysis. 
 
278 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 Accompanied by his wife, he went to Canada, 
 where he remained several months, and upon his 
 return, he was not only relieved of his vertiginous 
 troubles, but he seemed to be thoroughly rejuvenated. 
 Soon after coming back to Richmond, he met his 
 physician, and informed him that he suffered some 
 inconvenience in walking. Upon being asked to 
 state the nature of his difficulties, he said that he 
 found it hard to " keep his feet on the ground." He 
 was so exuberant and elastic he felt as if he could 
 fly. He was then sixty-five years old. During 
 his absence his pulpit was ably supplied by Dr. T. G. 
 Jones, then president of Richmond College. 
 
 On March 25th, 1870, Dr. Jeter tendered his 
 resignation as pastor of the Grace Street Church. 
 To this step he was impelled, as he stated in his 
 letter, by a regard for his health, a belief that he 
 could be more useful as an editor, and a conviction 
 that the church would be more prosperous under the 
 care of a younger pastor. He said also that he re- 
 joiced that he would leave the church united and 
 hopeful, and that if there was one member who did 
 not reciprocate the sincere affection which he cher- 
 ished for every person in the church, he did not 
 know it. He added that the sadness of his retire- 
 ment from a position which he had held for more 
 than seventeen years was softened by the fact that 
 he would remain a member of the church. 
 
 His resignation, so gracefully offered, was tenderly 
 and regretfully accepted. His retirement was a 
 mournful event to his people, but they saw that it 
 would lighten his burdens and be for the Master's 
 
SEVENTEEN YEARS AT GRACE STREET CHURCH. 279 
 
 honor. The church signalized the occasion by such 
 action as fitly voiced its sorrow and affection. The 
 resolutions passed were appropriate and beautiful, 
 but they must be omitted. Indeed, it would be easy 
 to fill chapters with eulogistic resolutions and ad- 
 dresses which were put forth in honor of Dr. Jeter, 
 during his life and after his death, but let me say 
 that such papers must meet the seemingly cruel fate 
 which now befalls the resolutions passed by his last 
 pastoral charge. They must be left out. Not that 
 I would disparage the approval of good men ; but 
 there is a dullness in formulated praise. For obscure 
 and unestablished men it may serve a practical pur- 
 pose, and for the weak and vain, in every voice of 
 praise, there is music. In his early days Dr. Jeter 
 was very ambitious ; he loved notoriety and was 
 thrilled by the plaudits of men. But as he advanced 
 in years he grew in humility. He saw the end of 
 human glory, and his soul, disenchanted of earth, 
 turned to the invisible and eternal. The fires of 
 ambition, which at first glowed within him, gradually 
 paled and expired. Little cared he for the praise or 
 censure of men, and in my humble effort to trace his 
 life I feel strongly, that I would belittle him by en- 
 cumbering these pages with formal and elaborate 
 eulogies. The story of his service must be the only 
 song of his praise. 
 
 At the time he left Grace Street, he had already 
 been for a half-century a herald of salvation, and 
 during most of the time he had borne the burdens 
 of the pastoral office. It was, with meekness and 
 solemnity, that he took off his robes and laid them 
 
280 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 aside. Long-worn they were, but spotless, and he 
 went out, with the grateful benedictions of his people 
 thick upon his head. His retirement occurred just 
 as he was approaching the dead-line of life, but he 
 sought his release not to rest nor to die. In his step 
 there was no tremor, and his hand had not lost its 
 cunning. He ceased to be a pastor only that he 
 might be a teacher in a larger sphere. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 IN THE PULPIT. 
 
 DANIEL WITT said of himself, that he was 
 "nothing but a preacher." In saying this, 
 he did not claim for himself any pre-eminent 
 ability as a minister, but simply intended to indicate 
 that he lacked, in a marked degree, adaptation to 
 other forms of Christian work. Those who knew 
 the delicate grace of his pen and the rare charm of 
 his social character, could never endorse this modest 
 estimate of himself. And yet it is probably true 
 that the ardor with which he gave himself to the 
 specific work of preaching may have lessened, in 
 some degree, his effectiveness in other branches of 
 ministerial activity. Happy in the pulpit, he was 
 content to be forgotten elsewhere. 
 
 Not so with Dr. Jeter. It was not possible for 
 him to condense his strength into any single form 
 of activity. Endowed with immense physical vigor, 
 versatile in his gifts, quenchless in his thirst for 
 knowledge, aggressive in his nature, keenly inter- 
 ested in living questions and capable of vast endu- 
 rance, he instinctively thrust himself into every 
 movement which gave promise of usefulness. His 
 eagle eye swept the entire line of the Christian host, 
 and he always rushed to the point where he seemed 
 
 281 
 
282 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 to be most needed. It mattered little with him 
 whether it was a convention, a revival, a board 
 meeting, a religious controversy, a book to be writ- 
 ten, a journey to be made, a college to be estab- 
 lished, a minister to be ordained, a church to be 
 built, a dying man to be visited ; he was ready for 
 that which most urgently called for his help. That 
 the diversity of his labors impaired his power in the 
 pulpit is a matter of opinion. 
 
 Possibly if he had thrown all his resources upon 
 the single point of preparing and delivering his ser- 
 mons, he might have attained higher distinction as 
 a preacher. This, however, is by no means certain, 
 and I think that it is beyond doubt, that the sum of 
 his usefulness was far greater, as the outcome of his 
 varied labors, than it would have been if he had set 
 before himself the purpose of being " nothing but a 
 preacher." 
 
 In undertaking to portray him as a preacher, I 
 shall speak candidly. I have no wish to invest him 
 with a glory that is unreal. I may not be able to 
 paint him as he was ; but I will at least sketch him 
 as he impressed himself upon me. 
 
 It is due to him to say in the outset that he never 
 had a fair chance. He began his career under heavy 
 disadvantages, from which he was never able fully 
 to extricate himself. It is not easy to put into 
 words those subtle influences which play upon one 
 who grows up in an atmosphere of culture and of 
 Christian refinement. If he be responsive to the 
 touch of these sacred things, he will take on a finish 
 which otherwise he can never hope to possess. We 
 
IN THE PULPIT. 283 
 
 have already seen, under what adverse and cruel for- 
 tunes, Dr. Jeter made his way into public life. It 
 was by no means the saddest hardship of his youth 
 that he was compelled to enter the ministry without 
 theological training. I account it as among his su- 
 preme misfortunes that, up to the point of his major- 
 ity, he never saw a preacher whose pulpit manners 
 or homiletical methods were really worthy of his 
 imitation. In a large measure, young men learn to 
 speak like those whom they are accustomed to hear, 
 and when they have once contracted platform habits, 
 it is hard indeed to break them, especially if they 
 are not good. 
 
 In studying the character of Dr. Jeter, therefore, 
 as a preacher, we ought to put into the account the 
 fact, that he had very little general education, knew 
 next to nothing of systematic theology, had never 
 heard of such a thing as homiletics, had never taken 
 a lesson in elocution, and had been listening to 
 preachers who misused their voices and were care- 
 less in their speech and action. From that low estate 
 he started, and what he afterwards attained was so 
 much clear gain. What he would have become, if 
 he had been more favored in his early environments 
 is not a question for the historian. Not a few short- 
 sighted people would be quick to say, that he would 
 never have attained to such eminence, if he had gone 
 through the schools. I have only to express sur- 
 prise that any could hold an opinion, so unreasonable 
 and foolish. 
 
 Dr. Jeter's most serious drawback as a preacher 
 was his voice. It was an ever-present infirmity, 
 
284 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 chiefly conspicuous, at the point where it most needed 
 to be concealed. I have never been able to sympa- 
 thize in the least with that class of his admirers who 
 not only undertook to defend his voice, but to exalt 
 it into one of his highest attractions. I must say in 
 plainness that I always looked upon it as the most 
 grievous blemish in his ministerial manners. For 
 the benefit of those who never heard him, it may be 
 necessary to explain that he always spoke at an ele- 
 vated pitch, which gave to his voice a shrill and 
 almost whining intonation. 
 
 I believe that it was generally supposed that this 
 was a natural peculiarity. From this view I strongly 
 dissent. In my judgment it was a habit and not a 
 natural defect. He evidently learned in his child- 
 hood to talk in that raised and whining tone. It 
 could have been easily corrected, if he had been taken 
 in hand in time. 
 
 It is understood that the proper range for the 
 human voice, either in public or private speech, is 
 what the vocalists call the natural octave. That 
 octave contains eight different tones, and affords 
 ample scope for bringing out the voice in its richest 
 and loftiest power. The lowest note of the octave, 
 which is C of the natural scale, is the simplest and 
 most natural expression of the voice. It is the key- 
 note of the speaking voice. At that point, if exer- 
 cised in an easy and unexcited way, the voice will 
 produce a sound which, in its first audible moment, 
 will resemble a grunt. If a public speaker, even of 
 ordinary vocal vigor, will learn to begin at that 
 pitch, he can speak for hours without peril or fatigue. 
 
IN TIIE PULPIT. 285 
 
 What disables so many public speakers, is not the 
 frequent use, but the misuse or overstraining of their 
 voices. A well-known minister, yet living, com- 
 plained some years ago, in my presence, that it 
 pained his throat to speak. I suggested that he 
 would lower the key at which he began to speak, 
 bringing it down to the simple and easy grunt. He 
 tried it, but found it a tough work to break up a 
 habit which had become a part of himself. But he 
 persevered and conquered. Before entering the pul- 
 pit, he would coax his voice down to the right pitch, 
 and by a continuous grunt, audible to himself only, 
 he would hold it there until he put it out in the 
 reading of his first hymn. 
 
 A speaker's voice always ranges above his start- 
 ing point, and if it has variety and flexibility, will 
 run up an octave. If he begins on C, he will have 
 full range for his voice in its strongest and most 
 thrilling modulations. Dr. Jeter always commenced 
 on G of the natural octave, — that is, five points too 
 high, — and his voice, marvelous in its elasticity and 
 reach, would soar upward from that pitch into an 
 elevation almost as far as the best tenor voice can 
 go. 
 
 This, of course, was unnatural. It was a terrible 
 strain on him, and but for the wonderful strength of 
 his constitution, and the extraordinary elasticity of 
 his vocal chords, it must have produced throat dis- 
 ease, and ended, either in permanent disability, or 
 death. As it was, his voice accepted the inevitable, 
 and served faithfully for sixty years. But it worked 
 under constant protest. In every note it uttered, 
 
286 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 it proclaimed its grievances and mournfully lamented 
 its hardships. 
 
 It always gave Dr. Jeter trouble. He said of 
 himself that he was a "constitutional cougher." He 
 declared that he had spent at least three years in 
 the actual operation of coughing. Whether he 
 thought so or not I never knew, but I never doubted 
 that this arose from the irritation of his vocal organs, 
 brought on by his speaking on a too elevated key. 
 
 While on this subject, I must mention what was 
 always an interesting fact to me. I noticed on sev- 
 eral occasions when Dr. Jeter spoke — privately, I 
 mean — in a sort of unconscious way, his voice would 
 drop to C of the natural octave, and while his lower 
 tones were seriously enfeebled by disuse, they were 
 yet sonorous and rich. I confess that it touched 
 me whenever I heard those deep and mellow notes. 
 They were sad reminders of what his voice might 
 have been, if properly trained in his youth. Few 
 men ever possessed such a rare musical apparatus as 
 did Dr. Jeter. It had strength, versatility, depth 
 and penetration. It did its work under many dis- 
 advantages ; but glorious, indeed, was the work 
 which it did. 
 
 After speaking with such plainness about this pe- 
 culiarity in Dr. Jeter's manner, I ought to suggest 
 to those who never heard him, that they must not 
 form an exaggerated opinion as to its effect upon his 
 preaching. It was, indeed, a singular and objection- 
 able blemish. To strangers, it was startling and un- 
 pleasant. It sometimes provoked adverse criticisms, 
 and even rendered him the butt of merriment and jest. 
 
IN THE PULPIT. 287 
 
 Dr. Ryland relates an incident that shows how 
 that, occasionally, Dr. Jeter was so careless in the 
 use of his voice as to excite the laughter of his 
 hearers. The Doctor was once at the University of 
 Virginia, and attended religious services, during 
 which a very solemn sermon was preached by an 
 Episcopal minister. At the end of the discourse, he 
 was invited to lead in prayer. He began his peti- 
 tion by saying " 0, Lord," in a tone so sharp, queer 
 and undevout that the whole audience was amused. 
 One of the professors, an humble and devout Chris- 
 tian, said afterwards that when he heard that singu- 
 lar ejaculation, his first thought was that some one 
 had pierced Dr. Jeter with a needle, and that it was 
 an outcry of pain. When he found that this was 
 not so, it became difficult for him to restrain himself 
 from audible laughter. 
 
 Many ludicrous and even offensive anecdotes were 
 circulated at the expense of Dr. Jeter which, mani- 
 festly, had no foundation in fact. Some persons 
 were foolish enough to suppose that they could tell 
 anything about Dr. Jeter without giving offence. A 
 popular lecturer once ventured to relate before a 
 Richmond audience the hideous joke of the tearful 
 woman who said that Dr. Jeter's voice reminded her 
 of a favorite mule which she had lately lost. It was 
 one of those shocking and impossible things that 
 ought never to have been repeated. Dr. Jeter was 
 present, and heard it for the first time. He did not 
 relish it, and the audience, composed largely of his 
 friends, saw no fun in the story. His voice was his 
 weakest point; but it never deserved the remorse- 
 
288 LIFE OF JEEEMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 less criticisms which thoughtless people sometimes 
 felt justified in indulging at its expense. 
 
 Dr. Jeter knew that his voice sometimes struck 
 people unpleasantly. It produced effects which, at 
 times, amused him as well as others. There was 
 one story which he loved to tell on himself, and he 
 put it in his " Recollections." Here it is : 
 
 Certain it is, many plain people value sermons more on ac- 
 count of the intonations in their delivery than the thoughts they 
 convey. In confirmation of this remark, I had a striking in- 
 stance in my own experience. Many years ago, an artless 
 stranger, whom I casually met, said to me : "I hear you preach 
 every Sunday. You are the greatest preacher I ever did hear." 
 " Ah !" said I, " you have not, I suppose, heard Mr. M. preach." 
 At that time Mr. M. was attracting great attention by his ser- 
 mons. " Yes," he replied, " I have heard Mr. M. several times. 
 He is a great preacher ; but he is not so great a preacher as you 
 are. You have the most mournfullest voice of any man I ever did 
 hear." It was evident that not my thoughts or style, but the 
 modulation of my voice, though I had not attained to the holy 
 art of " intoning," had won the admiration of my strange hearer. 
 
 It occurred to me at times that Dr. Jeter was 
 hampered by a consciousness of this vocal infirmity. 
 He often appeared constrained and uneasy, when 
 brought before strange and critical audiences. He 
 was a great believer in what he called conversational 
 preaching. He said preachers ought to talk in the 
 pulpit. He expressed regret that he had not culti- 
 vated the colloquial style, but said that, with his 
 voice, he could never have done so with any high 
 degree of success. For Rev. J. E. Hutson, a well- 
 known and useful evangelist, he expressed the high- 
 est admiration, because he was so simple and natural 
 
IN THE PULPIT. 289 
 
 in his public speech. It was just like him to admire 
 in others that which he felt, he did not himself pos- 
 sess. 
 
 After all, Dr. Jeter's voice did not seriously inter- 
 fere with his popularity or usefulness. As he was 
 called to the pastorate of many leading churches, it 
 may be inferred that it was not considered, even by 
 the most fastidious, as seriously objectionable. While 
 it was out of harmony with his dignified and magnif- 
 icent presence, it had the air of perfect naturalness. 
 It was altogether different from the sing-song tone 
 of the old-time preachers, though it must be admit- 
 ted that sometimes, in his moments of high spiritual 
 excitement, there were easily discoverable traces of 
 the " holy tone" which he so often heard in the days 
 of his youth. Nor could his voice, in any fairness, 
 be compared with that whine, so artificial and intol- 
 erable, which is now in high fashion among those 
 who intone their services. Those who heard him 
 regularly soon forgot the singular intonation of his 
 voice, and relished the message which it brought as 
 heartily as if it had been spoken by the rich and 
 silvery voice of Chrysostom. In some there is a 
 disposition to fall in ■ love with what is odd and 
 strikingly personal in others, and so there were per- 
 sons who thought that Dr. Jeter had a very excel- 
 lent voice. 
 
 It ought to be added that when Dr. Jeter was 
 thoroughly himself and his voice rolled out from his 
 lips, freighted with rich and burning thought, it was 
 pleasant indeed to hear. It ceased to be thin and 
 cutting, and became musical and even majestic. I 
 19 
 
290 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 have heard him preach many times when he so 
 completely subdued and thrilled me, that I abso- 
 lutely forgot that he had a voice. 
 
 His voice was singularly penetrating and capa- 
 ble of being heard at great distances. He went 
 once to Culpeper County to labor with Dr. W. F. 
 Broaddus and Barnett Grimsley in a camp-meet- 
 ing. As the meeting was held in a grove, it was 
 feared that he could not be heard. This fear proved 
 utterly groundless, for it was soon discovered that 
 the great multitude could hear him, much more 
 distinctly than the other brethren, both of whom 
 had deep and strong voices. 
 
 Dr. Jeter had a great ambition to preach well. 
 He loved to be criticised when it was done in a fra- 
 ternal spirit. He was quick to see his faults when 
 reminded of them, and he never rested until he cor- 
 rected tb em. In Dr. Robert Ryland he had a sharp 
 and faithful critic, under whose keen blade he was 
 relieved from many excrescences. In the notes 
 below Dr. Ryland tells how he cured him of two 
 bad habits : 
 
 During the early part of his Richmond pastorate he was the 
 subject of two especially inelegant habits. The one was the ut- 
 terance, in preaching, of an unmeaning sound at the close of a 
 phrase or sentence. It was not the adjunct " ah," which many 
 speakers use after a word, when they are at a loss for the next 
 word. I am told that this is often heard in the British Parlia- 
 ment, though it is not the less vulgar on that account. It was a 
 sound that issued, not from the front region of the mouth, but 
 from the throat, — a noise that I can designate only by the word 
 grunt. I told him of this habit ; but he stoutly denied the fact, 
 and expressed great surprise at my criticism. " Well," said I, 
 
IN THE PULPIT. 291 
 
 "if you will allow me, I will prove it to you." "How?'' "I 
 will sit behind you next Sunday, and when you grunt, I will 
 clear my throat distinctly and make you aware of it." To this 
 he readily assented, and the next Sunday I was on hand, and 
 sat immediately in his rear. During the first few sentences he 
 was very guarded. But when he got well on his way and be- 
 came somewhat absorbed in his subject, he made a slight guttural 
 suffix to a sentence, which I allowed to pass unrebuked. Pres- 
 ently, becoming still more inspired with his theme and more for- 
 getful of self, he uttered his loud grunt, and I subjoined a loud 
 ahem. He flinched as though a spoonful of cold water were 
 poured down his back, and after floundering through a few par- 
 agraphs, he sat down. I had certainly ruined a sermon, but 
 had given a death-blow to a vulgarism of which he had been 
 seemingly unconscious. 
 
 The other fault alleged against him, was the wearing on his 
 face at certain points of his sermons an unnatural smile. It was 
 not the sweet expression of a loving nature, but a strange mix- 
 ture of irony and levity, — in fact, a sort of sardonic grin that 
 was very distasteful. To this charge also he pleaded not guilty, 
 and appealed to his wife for defence. But she meekly, though 
 firmly, attested the fact. Of this habit he freed himself with his 
 characteristic promptness; but I never heard by what special 
 means. 
 
 It was often urged against Dr. Jeter that he was 
 too slow in the opening part of his sermon. He 
 was very deliberate, but several things ought to be 
 taken into the account. His sermons were struc- 
 tures, and in the beginning he was always critical 
 in his expositions. This required a calm and slow 
 manner. He could not speak rapidly, except under 
 a glow of feeling, and his heart did not warm up 
 very rapidly. His sensibilities were deep, and not 
 speedily stirred, but when once aroused his emotions 
 rolled like waves of the sea. He was not one of 
 
292 LIFE 0F JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D 
 
 those superficial natures that could be whipped into 
 a tempest in a moment. 
 
 It ought to be added that he always entered the 
 pulpit with some misgivings. The dread of failure 
 pursued him like a phantom, and when he com- 
 menced his sermon, he walked like a giant who was 
 uncertain of his footing. He did not often break 
 down absolutely in his sermons, though he did some- 
 times, but he often fell below himself. Some of his 
 regular hearers estimated that he preached well 
 every other time. If his sermon went well in the 
 morning, and used up his nervous vitality, they did 
 not expect much of him at night. But if he was 
 flat and juiceless in the morning, they confidently 
 anticipated that he would come forth in his full 
 strength at night. He once said to me that he had 
 never learned how to preach. He remarked that 
 the most elaborate preparation never gave him an 
 adequate guarantee that he would be successful in 
 the delivery of his sermon, and that, on the other 
 hand, the most hurried and imperfect preparation 
 was no sure sign of failure. 
 
 He had some sermons that were the growth of a 
 life-time, made in his loftiest moments, familiarized 
 by frequent repetitions and enriched by fruits which 
 he had plucked from the loftiest heights to which 
 he ever rose in preaching. These he delighted to 
 preach. When once in a meeting with him, I re- 
 quested him to repeat a sermon which he had de- 
 livered a week before with transcendent power, at 
 another place. He declined with a sad shake of his 
 head, and observed that the fact that he had preached 
 
IN THE PULPIT. 293 
 
 it well so recently, was rather prophetic of a failure, 
 if he tried it again. 
 
 He was easily upset and thrown out of kelter, 
 especially at the opening of his sermons. Not that 
 he was ever nervous or irritable in the pulpit, but he 
 was easily diverted from his line of thought. Some- 
 times the most trivial causes would throw him from 
 his track, and when once he went awry, it was hard 
 for him to recover. 
 
 It may be safely put forth as a general proposition 
 that Dr. Jeter was never commonplace on extraor- 
 dinary occasions. He always managed to avoid 
 mediocrity either by rising far above it, or falling 
 below it. If everything was propitious, and he be- 
 came fully inspired, his sermons were thrillingly 
 eloquent and overpowering in their effects, but if he 
 became oppressed with self-consciousness, or if there 
 was aught in his surroundings, to distract his mind, 
 he would sorely disappoint the expectations of his 
 hearers. It would be easy to multiply examples 
 alike of his triumphs and his downfalls. 
 
 In the following extract from " Reminiscences of 
 J. B. Jeter," written for the Religious Herald in 
 1885, by Dr. T. S. Dunn away, we have an account 
 of one of his notable successes : 
 
 At a meeting of the Rappahannock Association, held with 
 Morattico Church in the year 1878, the body on the second day 
 adjourned to the stand to hear a sermon from Dr. Jeter. His 
 text was John iii. 17 : " For God sent not his Son into the 
 world to condemn the world, but that the world through him 
 might be saved." Circumstances favored success. The theme 
 was inspiring ; the vast audience was sympathetic ; the place was 
 the scene of his first pastoral labors. I have never witnessed a 
 
294 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 happier or more electrifying effect produced by a sermon. Many 
 in the great congregation were melted into tears, and the many 
 preachers in the stand with him were so overwhelmed with 
 emotion at the close of the sermon, that not one of them could, 
 for a time, announce a hymn or lead in prayer. 
 
 It may be well to add here an instance on the 
 other side. A few years before his death, he at- 
 tended the Strawberry Association which met near 
 the spot at which he was converted. His presence 
 was noised abroad, and there was a great and ex- 
 pectant crowd. His old friends and kindred hailed 
 the occasion with deep delight. He was appointed 
 to preach at the stand in the grove. As he appeared 
 upon the platform, his solemn dignity, lofty form and 
 snow-white locks marked him at once as a prince 
 among men. He introduced the services with ap- 
 propriate solemnity, and after announcing his text, 
 ventured to digress from his appointed track, by a re- 
 ference to his conversion. Lifting his long right arm, 
 and slowly pointing to a mountain hollow, plainly in 
 view, he said, " Right over there, my friends, more 
 than a half-century ago, I gave myself to Christ and 
 found him precious to my soul. Since then, I have 
 sought to serve him, and while I know that I have 
 been unworthy and often unfaithful I can testify 
 that he has ever been faithful to me." It was a 
 beautiful testimony, fittingly and tenderly borne, and 
 the great audience was profoundly touched. He, too, 
 was moved and all the signs seemed favorable for a 
 great sermon. He then undertook to descend from 
 his elevated plane, and to adjust himself to the track 
 of his discourse — but his capricious memory turned 
 
IN THE PULPIT. 295 
 
 against him. His sermon had faded from his mind, 
 and, after standing for a while, vacant and helpless, 
 he took his seat. It was a surprising result to his 
 friends, and he, of course, was mortified. But he 
 had been through that ordeal too often to yield to any 
 undue despondency. He appeared in the Associa- 
 tion later, and spoke with an ardor and eloquence 
 which redeemed him. 
 
 Even his failures were interesting. They never 
 cost him the respect of his audience. A stranger, 
 in witnessing one of his break-downs, could not fail 
 to see, even in his weakness, the unmistakable signs 
 of his strength. Sometimes his dullest sermons and 
 even his downright failures were crowned with 
 tokens of Divine power. Dr. Dunnaway furnishes a 
 case in point : 
 
 While pastor in the Northern Neck he attempted to preach at 
 a night meeting, conducted at the house of my grandfather. 
 Soon after announcing his text, finding it quite impossible to 
 proceed with his discourse, and so saying to the congregation, he 
 called on a brother present to lead in prayer. Moved with 
 sympathy for his pastor, and feeling the need of Divine help, 
 the deacon prayed with unwonted fervor; the congregation was 
 moved to tears ; the power and presence of the Spirit was mani- 
 fest, and several persons professed faith in Christ — among the 
 number my sainted mother, and the beloved and lamented Wm. 
 H. Kirk, who became a useful and devoted minister. Thus was 
 verified the Divine declaration, " My strength is made perfect in 
 weakness." This liability to failure is quite common with the 
 class of persons who, at other times, have the nerve and genius 
 to rise very high. The quail which just skims the earth's surface 
 in its flight never falls low, for the reason it never rises high. 
 It is the majestic eagle, proud denizen of the air, soaring above 
 cloud and tempest, basking in the sunlight of the aerial regions, 
 
296 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 or balancing itself with motionless wings in the high vault of 
 heaven, that is capable of the greatest descent. And so it is with 
 the preacher. He who at times soars highest, and sways 
 audiences with his burning eloquence and melting pathos, is 
 liable to fall much below himself, and even at times to make 
 signal failures. It is the mediocre, dead-level man who neither 
 rises high nor falls low. 
 
 He came in time to regard his pulpit failures, if 
 they deserved to be called by a term so sweeping, 
 with a quiet and unruffled temper. While he feared 
 for their effect on others, he did not seem to feel any 
 anxiety, as to their influence on his reputation. In- 
 deed, he appeared to see the ludicrous aspect of his 
 unlucky performances, and to find a grim enjoyment 
 in it. 
 
 Soon after leaving college I was with him in a 
 protracted meeting in Amelia County. Almost every 
 morning, when looking over his manuscripts, and 
 selecting, his sermon for the day, he would refer 
 rather complacently to his sermon on " the Brazen 
 Serpent." It was evidently one of his favorites. It 
 had done valuable execution in his Master's service 
 elsewhere, and he was fond of preaching it. He 
 spoke of it so often, that I said to him more than 
 once — " Bring him out ; give us your Brazen Serpent 
 to-day." But he did not do so. He saved that for 
 his last, and as I had never heard it I supposed it 
 would be his best. But it proved an unlucky day 
 for the Brazen Serpent. The Doctor did not break 
 down, but his manner was painfully stilted and his 
 delivery frigid and feeble. Apparently the sermon 
 produced no effect. I was a little slow in getting 
 
IN THE PULPIT. 297 
 
 out to the dinner table in the yard, and when I 
 reached there, I found him already on hand, and de- 
 vouring his dinner with a gusto in no degree abated 
 by the disaster of the morning. He met me, as I 
 walked up, and with a grim and comical twinkle in 
 his eye, said, " Well, after all, my Brazen Serpent 
 proved a flash in the pan." As I was booked for a 
 sermon that afternoon, and was very anxious to put 
 him in, as a substitute, I was bold enough to tell 
 him that the Brazen Serpent had not gone well, and 
 suggested that he ought to preach again, before 
 leaving the community. He replied that if he 
 did, he might go from bad to worse ; but that he 
 would " Take a turn in the bushes and see if he 
 could beat up another sermon." He preached that 
 afternoon on the " Woman that was a Sinner," and 
 it was a sermon of irresistible power. 
 
 It was his custom to write his sermons, either in 
 full or in part, and for many years, he usually had 
 his manuscript before him. That it was wise for 
 him to write his sermons can hardly be questioned, 
 but I think that it was a great mistake that he ever 
 became accustomed to the use of notes in the pulpit. 
 This remark is not born of prejudice, on my part 
 against sermon-reading, or other mechanical aids to 
 the memory, though I must say in simple truth that 
 my enthusiasm has- never gone wild in favor of 
 manuscript-preachers. Some men can handle a 
 manuscript with tact, and can use it without losing 
 that glowing passion which is the highest charm of 
 an orator. 
 
 But this was not the case with Dr. Jeter. When 
 
298 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B JETER, D.D. 
 
 he used the manuscript, he used it, and made no at- 
 tempt to disguise the fact from his audience. And 
 when he used notes, he spread them out before the 
 public eye, referring to them in a sober and self- 
 respecting way. He did not imitate those preachers 
 who attempt to use their manuscripts clandestinely, 
 as if they were doing a dastardly thing and were 
 afraid they would be taken in the act. 
 
 His way was far better, and yet it did not suit 
 him to use a manuscript. It put a weight upon him. 
 Being very tall and not quick-eyed, he often had to 
 bend and scan the paper, in order to find the place. 
 He could not rattle smoothly along, in the discus- 
 sion of one part of his subject while searching among 
 his notes for his next point. 
 
 He usually paused, in the strain of his remarks, 
 and gave himself to the one point of finding what 
 was next to be said. When confined to his manu- 
 script, he was always enfeebled in his delivery. 
 Elocutionists may read, but orators speak. Dr. Jeter 
 was too much of an orator to prosper in the rdle of 
 a declaimer. He never did his best, except when 
 untrammeled by notes. 
 
 I have said that the use of mechanical helps in the 
 pulpit was a mistake in his case. It was worse than 
 a mistake ; it was a positive injury. His memory, 
 in point of vigor and retentiveness, was extraordi- 
 nary, and his mind moved upon a logical track. For 
 men who are florid in style, fond of making poetic 
 quotations, and without methodical arrangement, in 
 their sermons, a manuscript is a necessity. But 
 Dr. Jeter's sermons were structures. They were 
 
IN THE PULPIT. 299 
 
 closely concatenated lines of thought. They grew 
 out of the text, and were put together, with the skill 
 of a master. His divisions were simple and orderly, 
 each suggesting that which was to follow. Such 
 sermons can be committed, and recalled without diffi- 
 culty. Almost any attentive and sympathetic auditor, 
 after listening to Dr. Jeter, could easily reproduce 
 the points of his sermon in their order. My convic- 
 tion is very decided, therefore, that he ought never 
 to have entangled himself with manuscripts or notes. 
 This he came finally to realize, and in his later life 
 he made a desperate effort to break from the bondage 
 of his habit. 
 
 But it was, then, too late. He refused to trust his 
 memory in the days of its strength and it never for- 
 gave him for the wrong. It grew fitful, coquettish 
 and cranky. Spoiled by being unduly helped in its 
 task, it became capricious and balky. At times, it 
 would perform its duty with admirable fidelity, and 
 then again it would refuse to budge. Such was the 
 penalty which he had to pay for sinning against his 
 memory. It is worth while for young preachers to 
 bear in mind, that a memory generously cultivated 
 and firmly trusted, is capable of almost indefinite 
 improvement and service. 
 
 I believe that this is the explanation of those 
 painful hitches which sometimes befell him, in his 
 attempts to preach. He may have had other mental 
 crotchets, but his tricky memory was his weakest 
 point. It rendered him uneasy, timid and self-con- 
 scious. He was like a king, going into battle under 
 the dread suspicion, that his chief general was a 
 
300 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 traitor and might turn against him at the critical 
 moment. 
 
 There were times when his memory got sulky in 
 advance, so that it was impossible for him to call up 
 an old sermon when he wished to use it. Here is a 
 case in point : 
 
 Dr. Jeter had a sermon he called his " Eel-Sermon." It was 
 quite famous in its day. He was often solicited to repeat it. 
 On some public occasion, at one of the large gatherings in the 
 country, he was solicited to preach this sermon. He went out 
 into the woods and walked to and fro for nearly an hour, attempt- 
 ing to recall the discussion and prepare himself properly to 
 preach it. All his efforts were without avail. After wrestling 
 with his topic for some time, he finally gave it up as hopeless 
 that day. On his return, he was asked if he would preach that 
 sermon. "No! no!" he replied, " the slippery thing gets away 
 from me. I must try something else." He did try something 
 else and preached with his usual power. 
 
 The slipperiness with which he charges his sermon 
 ought to be put to the account of his memory. That 
 was famous for its slips. 
 
 It was sometimes pitiable, to look at him when he 
 fell a victim to the trickiness of his memory. It 
 gave to him a cowed and helpless mien which was 
 distressing to behold. He was once preaching at 
 Peterville Church, Powhatan County, Virginia, on 
 " Moses' Invitation to Hobab." After giving the 
 context, he approached the discussion, but he was evi- 
 dently out of sorts. He moved heavily, and presently 
 came to a dead halt. Slowly reaching his hand 
 around into his coat pocket behind him, he drew out a 
 little black book and said in a deeply lugubrious tone, 
 " I find my memory is treacherous this morning and 
 
IN THE PULPIT. 301 
 
 I will have to use my notes." He spread them be- 
 fore him, but the bad behavior of his memory had 
 thrown a pall over the entire household of his fac- 
 ulties. They would not work. He was utterly 
 devoid of enlarging power. He crept timidly along 
 the line of his notes, and, as they were brief, he 
 speedily reached the end. When he took his seat, he 
 looked as gloomy and crest-fallen as if he had just 
 been condemned to be shot. At his request I fol- 
 lowed in an exhortation, and closed the meeting, 
 feeling unusually solemn and tender. As I did not 
 know what to say to him, I concluded to slip out of 
 the pulpit in silence. As I was leaving he caught 
 me, and, drawing me back, said, " My heart feels 
 like a vacuum and my head like a pumpkin." 
 
 It sometimes happened that his memory would 
 trip him at the moment of his highest exhilaration, 
 and when he was in the midst of his boldest nights. 
 He was preaching at the Grace Street Baptist Church 
 one Sunday morning on "The Dignity of the Chris- 
 tian Life." At one point he compared the glory of 
 the christian with the distinctions of earth, and 
 showed its superiority. 
 
 He was in the preaching humor and was towering 
 in his passionate eloquence. Rising to the climax, 
 and with his voice at the highest pitch, he ex- 
 claimed : " I would rather be a christian than to 
 have the wealth of the Rothschilds ; I would rather be 
 a christian than to be the President of these United 
 States ; I would rather be a christian than to wear 
 the crown of England ; I would rather be a christian 
 (here he was very high) than to — than to be (here he 
 
302 EIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 began to shake and fall) rather be a christian, I say, — 
 than — than to be — than, I say, to be — Julius Caesar /" 
 Why he lugged in the tyrannical Julius at this point 
 I never knew. He may have thought that he 
 would meet the exigencies of the case, inasmuch as 
 the imperial Csesar is reputed to be useful in " stop- 
 ping a crack to keep the wind away." I suspected 
 that he brought in the blood-thirsty old Roman in a 
 spirit of vexation and as a curt way of expressing 
 contempt for himself. 
 
 He was always in peril of shipwreck when he 
 undertook to recall names. He forgot his wife's 
 name once while at the post-office, and went home 
 to see about it. He was giving notice from the 
 pulpit that a certain brother would deliver a lecture 
 on " Religion in the Army of Northern Virginia." 
 By an odd dislocation of terms he announced that 
 the subject of the lecture would be " Religion in the 
 Northern Army of Virginia." An instant flutter in 
 the audience told him plainly enough that he had 
 made a mistake, and so he went over it again, put- 
 ting it, however, exactly in the the same way. This 
 provoked audible laughter, and so with vast par- 
 ticularity he went over it again, but seeing that he 
 was only making matters worse, he said, " The lec- 
 ture will be on ' Religion in General Lee's Army,' 
 and if that is not plain enough, read the newspapers 
 and see for yourselves." 
 
 A while before his death he preached at the First 
 Church one Sunday morning, and administered the 
 Lord's Supper. As he was breaking the bread, he 
 remarked : " When I stand here, I always feel like in- 
 
IN THE PULPIT. 303 
 
 dulging in reminiscences. The forms and faces of 
 loved ones now gone to their reward come back to 
 view. I remember a dear brother who used to sit 
 right over there, (pointing in a certain direction.) 
 He was a large, portly man and a very godly man. 
 I knew him well. He was a miller by trade." At 
 this point he wished to give the brother's name, 
 but it was not forthcoming. After a pause, he con- 
 tinued. " He was a large, portly man and a very 
 godly man — a miller by trade and I knew him well." 
 Still, the name would not come. He went over it all 
 again, and finally, out of all heart, he turned and 
 asked, "Brother D., what was his name?" " Frank- 
 lin," said the brother, and Dr. Jeter, completely un- 
 hinged for the moment, forgot the Supper and took 
 his seat. 
 
 I must not multiply illustrations of the treachery 
 of his memory. I may be pardoned, however, for 
 adding, at least, one more, since it fell under my 
 own eyes and was so characteristic. 
 
 In the winter of 1859 I went to Grace Street Church 
 one Sunday night to hear him preach. His audience 
 was not large, but he seemed to be in excellent trim 
 for preaching. His text was, " Strive to enter in at the 
 strait gate, for many I say unto you shall seek to 
 enter in, and shall not be able." When he came to 
 that part of the text about not being able to enter in, 
 he showed that our entering in at the gate depended, 
 among other things, upon the time we sought to 
 enter. He said there was a time for entering, and if 
 we allowed that to pass, we ought not to hope that 
 we could afterwards enter. Then he began to illus- 
 
304 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 trate. " If you are sick," said he, " and the physi- 
 cian prescribes a remedy to be taken at a certain 
 time, and you fail to take it until the time is 
 past, you ought not to complain, if it does not cure 
 you. If you do not sow in seed-time, you must not 
 expect to reap in harvest. Much less, if in seed- 
 time you sow your ground in weeds, ought you to 
 hope to reap wheat when the harvest-day comes. 
 
 " When I was a boy I read a story of Goodman 
 Hodge, an unbalanced and shiftless swain. Good- 
 man fallowed his fields and made them ready for the 
 seed. When the day for sowing came, he went forth 
 and sowed his fields broadcast with — (here he was 
 swinging his long arm around in imitation of the 
 sower) — sowed his fields broadcast — (another pause, 
 and still swinging his arm) — sowed his fields, I say, 
 broadcast with — (here he took in his arm, came to a 
 dead halt, drew his hand over his face, and then 
 with a downcast look, slowly scratched his head). 
 Well really, brethren, I have forgotten what it was 
 — I know it well, for it grows very extensively here 
 in Virginia, and has a large bloom, but after all, it 
 does not matter; it was a noxious weed. He sowed 
 his ground with the seed of a noxious weed. (This 
 seemed to right him up, and he started out anew.) 
 When the time for harvest came, Goodman Hodge 
 called in his servants, put his reapers in order, and 
 went forth expecting to reap a harvest. But when 
 he came in sight of his fields, instead of waving with 
 the ripened wheat, they were all abloom with thistles 
 — ah, that's the vegetable ; that 8 the vegetable ! He 
 
IN THE PULPIT. 305 
 
 found his fields filled with thistles. ' Whatsoever a 
 man soweth, that shall he also reap."' 
 
 One would imagine that after such a bewildering 
 experience, he would have been hopelessly upset. 
 But it was not so. The congregation exhibited many 
 signs of amusement, and here and there could be 
 heard suppressed laughter. There were several 
 things in his favor. He was thoroughly aroused, 
 and full of his subject, and did not manifest the least 
 embarrassment. His sermon had already produced 
 a decided effect and his hearers were too deeply im- 
 pressed to be excited into great merriment by even 
 so ludicrous a blunder. The interruption awakened 
 new attention, and in a little while he recovered his 
 self-possession and fervor, and closed his sermon in 
 the midst of profound solemnity and even tender- 
 ness on the part of the congregation. 
 
 Dr. C. Tyree once said that there was more sense 
 in Dr. Jeter's nonsense than there was in an ordinary 
 man's best sense. I have sometimes thought there 
 was more force in his failures, than is usually found 
 in the artificial and polished sermons of some who 
 are never known to fail. Now and then he fell — 
 fell far below himself — but he could do that and yet 
 stop a long way above the zenith of men who found 
 pleasure in parading his mistakes. He had his 
 nadir, but it was a proof of the majestic heights to 
 which he sometimes rose and from which he some- 
 times fell. 
 
 I have felt compelled, in candor, to present thus 
 fully Dr. Jeter's infirmities as a preacher. As I have 
 not spared him in this respect I will seek to be 
 20 
 
306 L IFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 equally careful and honest in setting forth the chief 
 points of his strength in the pulpit. If what I have 
 said, should lead any to suppose that he was not a 
 man of might — a preacher of rare and surpassing 
 power and an Elijah in the family of prophets, then 
 I have shown myself to be an unfaithful historian. 
 He was not the equal of some of the great preachers 
 of the world, but he towered very far above the 
 general average, and made an impress upon his age 
 which will never be effaced. 
 
 Wherein was he great ? This question I will an- 
 swer, so far as I am able. 
 
 First of all, his form was greatly in his favor. 
 Not that a fine physique is essential to an orator's 
 power. Several of the most captivating preachers 
 in the American pulpit of the present day are of 
 diminutive form. I may add to this that the most 
 senatorial and imposing figure that I ever saw in the 
 pulpit, was the property of a man whose preaching 
 was emptiness and bluster. And yet a noble pres- 
 ence is not to be despised. It is said that in his 
 youth, Dr. Jeter was gaunt and unshapely, and had 
 great difficulty in deciding what to do with his 
 notoriously long arms. But he grew away from all 
 that. He became erect, symmetrical and command- 
 ing. In height he was six feet, two inches, and he 
 bore himself, in and out of the pulpit, with imperial 
 dignity. His brow was high and broad ; his face 
 fair, beardless always and to the last unwrinkled ; 
 his eye was brilliant enough to light his whole coun- 
 tenance with its softened beauty; his thin white 
 hair was a -crown of glory and his lips seemed in- 
 
IN THE PULPIT. 307 
 
 stinct with strength, courage and sympathy. When 
 aglow with spiritual animation his form expanded 
 into grandeur and his face gleamed with ineffable 
 light. 
 
 He abounded in gesture. He learned in time to 
 hold himself in the best postures and to use his arms 
 with extreme grace and force. In moments of free- 
 dom on the platform, he moved about from point to 
 point, and his kingly bearing enhanced the power of 
 his speech. When thoroughly aroused, he would rush 
 to the very edge of the platform, and, bending for- 
 ward, would point with an almost crushing per- 
 sonality, as if he would probe the soul which he was 
 trying to save. He had one memorably fine gesture. 
 When he became excited — and he was capable of the 
 most intense and contagious excitement — he would 
 sometimes stand on tiptoe, and stretching upright his 
 right arm, he would point his forefinger, circling it as 
 it went up, toward heaven. At such a moment he 
 showed to great advantage. His appearance was 
 deeply impressive. An honored brother who was 
 one of the doctor's admiring hearers said once, in 
 speaking of this gesture, that it sometimes seemed to 
 him when he started that right forefinger on its 
 heavenward journey, it never paused, until it touched 
 the gateway of glory. 
 
 He was also remarkably solemn and interesting in 
 his manner of conducting the opening exercise of 
 worship. His simple appearance in the pulpit was 
 impressive. There was no prim and consequential 
 air about him, no affectation of earnestness, and not 
 one trace of vain-glory. Sometimes he appeared 
 
308 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 constrained and anxious, but he always wore the 
 look of a man whose soul was burdened with a great 
 business. When he arose, there was a nameless at- 
 traction, a spiritual charm which did much to still 
 the people and to prepare them for the services of 
 the sanctuary. 
 
 He never struck me as a notably good reader, and 
 I never heard him praised for his reading, and yet 
 I think no man's reading ever impressed me as his 
 did. He was a devout believer in singing, and 
 though his voice was never good, he always sang 
 with an earnestness and quiet rapture that was 
 positively inspiring. He excelled greatly in reading 
 the hymns. I can never forget the thrilling effect 
 produced upon my heart, when, a boy in Bedford, I 
 heard him read at Mt. Hermon " All hail the power 
 of Jesus' name." It was done wonderfully well and 
 I can fancy, even now, that I hear the triumphant 
 notes of his voice as he came to the closing line of 
 each stanza, " And crown him Lord of all." Each 
 time, his emphasis became stronger and more ex- 
 ultant until when he ended I felt as if the moment 
 for the coronation of the Son of Man had come. He 
 took great pains in selecting his hymns, so as to have 
 them in harmony with his sermon. 
 
 There was also a delightful fascination in his 
 public reading of the Scriptures. He did not select 
 the Scripture lesson, at haphazard or simply read the 
 chapter in which his text occurred, but made it a 
 point to read something that would bear directly 
 upon the discussion which he had in hand. He 
 rarely interlarded his reading with words of com- 
 
IN THE PULPIT. 309 
 
 merit, though now and, then, he would light up an 
 obscure passage by an explanatory remark. His 
 peculiar strength appeared in his ability to read the 
 Word of God, so as to bring out its meaning. Some- 
 times he would pause, and read a striking passage 
 the second time, and occasionally he would misread 
 a passage intentionally, so as to excite attention and 
 would then give the correct reading. It was always 
 a solemn thing to hear him read the Bible. One 
 could not fail to see that he felt that he was hand- 
 ling the Word of the living God. 
 
 But most of all, his public prayers were helpful to 
 worship. They were never long, nor elaborate, nor 
 in the least stately. They were models of simplicity, 
 directness and fervor. He was mighty in praise. 
 Blessed with a cheerful and grateful spirit, he was 
 always peculiarly happy in thanksgiving and adora- 
 tion. Sometimes he seemed to be so thoroughly 
 satisfied with what the Lord had done for him, that 
 he did not multiply petitions. He often rose to the 
 loftiest raptures in praising the Lord. 
 
 And then how humble he was ! It was melting to 
 hear, him pour out his soul in confession and his pleas 
 for mercy were most beseeching. He rarely made a 
 public prayer without praying for the conversion of 
 the world. . His prayers were not always uniform. 
 He sometimes lacked liberty and was dull, but he 
 never broke down in praying as he sometimes did in 
 preaching. It was not often, that he did not seem to 
 be importunate and prevalent in prayer. His voice 
 would frequently quiver with emotion, and his face 
 get wet with tears. I have heard him many times 
 
310 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 when he plead as a suppliant before his king, and 
 when he seemed to be face to face with God. Such 
 prayers I have never heard from any other man. 
 
 In his old age I was his pastor. He always sat 
 just in front of me He was my resort in the mo- 
 ment of trouble. If, for any reason, I felt jDeculiar 
 trepidation about my sermon, I would ask him to 
 pray for me. Even from the human side, his prayers 
 were greatly helpful. They were pervaded with a 
 sympathy which was full of comfort, and they went 
 far toward putting the people in a listening mood. 
 
 But, after all, it was as a preacher that he excelled. 
 His sermon was the product and the instrument of 
 his strength. I distrust my ability to set forth 
 adequately Dr. Jeter's chief characteristics as a ser- 
 monizer and a preacher. Some things can be said 
 without the least question as to their truth. 
 
 He was a remarkable Bible student. Of all the men 
 that I have ever known, he had the most compre- 
 hensive, varied and critical knowledge of the Bible. 
 While not a classical scholar, it is an interesting fact 
 that he studied Greek privately that he might be 
 able to examine Greek terms in the Lexicons and 
 critical commentaries. Some of the most significant 
 conversations that I ever had with him were with 
 reference to the different shades of meaning in 
 Greek words which seemed to be synonymous. He 
 collected an ample library, and that of the best qual- 
 ity for his purposes. He studied the Bible all his 
 life and according to the most approved methods. 
 He read it regularly and often read it through. He 
 read it with the aid of the best commentaries, con- 
 
IN THE PULPIT. 311 
 
 suiting different authorities as to the same texts. 
 He read it comparatively, using his Concordance and 
 studying each passage in the light of others. 
 
 He read it historically, acquainting himself with 
 its chronology and its geography, and, indeed, in- 
 vestigating every outside question which prom- 
 ised to throw the least light on the inspired text. 
 He read it doctrinally — taking each fundamental 
 doctrine and examining it, under all, converging 
 scriptural lights. He committed great portions of 
 it to memory, and it is an odd fact that while his 
 memory played all manner of pranks upon him, it 
 rarely failed him in his attempts to quote Scripture. 
 
 His acquaintance with the Bible was remarkable. 
 While thoroughly reverential in his spirit, he was a 
 fearless student. He knew the passages that were 
 of doubtful authority, and brought them to the test 
 of the highest scholarship he could consult, and had 
 well-matured opinions as to their genuineness. 
 
 He was not a voracious reader of other books. 
 He rarely read anything except on the line of his 
 studies. Above all theological writings he valued 
 those of Andrew Fuller. " Father Harris" called him 
 into the ministry ; Andrew Fuller was his teacher in 
 theology. He told me that his doctrinal views took 
 their shape more from Fuller's writings than from 
 any other man's. He read history to help him in 
 illustrations, but he never seemed to be at home on 
 any illustrations, except such as he took from the 
 Bible. He tried his hand on reading poetry, but his 
 memory usually behaved disgracefully when he un- 
 dertook to use it in the pulpit. 
 
312 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 When we look at him as a preacher, we must un- 
 derstand the source from which he drew his material. 
 That was the Bible. It was his magazine. He had 
 its resources at his command, and he could use them 
 with great facility. 
 
 I suppose that critics would have pronounced him 
 a textual preacher. He always took a text, and 
 usually it was short and he confined himself to its 
 discussion. And yet not in any narrow way. He 
 never took an isolated point of Scripture, as a mere 
 peg to hang a sermon on. It was his rule to present 
 his text in its scriptural setting, always illustrating 
 it with every ray of light which could be converged 
 upon it, from neighboring passages. In the most ac- 
 curate sense, I think, he was an expository preacher. 
 He literally pulled his text to pieces, exposing each 
 fragment to his hearers, explaining what the parts 
 meant separately, and what they meant when put 
 together, and what its meaning had to do with men. 
 
 He had great facility in the production of sermon 
 outlines. He said, before he was fifty years of age, 
 that he had twelve hundred sermons. Many of 
 them were written in full, but the bulk of them were 
 in notes. These notes were put in small blank 
 books, which could be easily carried in his breast- 
 pocket. Of these he had a formidable pile, and at 
 his death they were bequeathed, with his library, to 
 Richmond College. They were written with such 
 accuracy and completeness, that they were ready for 
 the publisher without revision or correction. Soon 
 after the war, he published in the Religious Herald 
 many of these sermon outlines, and they were greatly 
 
IN THE PULPIT. 313 
 
 admired, if not, indeed, appropriated, on account of 
 their homiletical excellences. 
 
 His power of analyzing a text was exceptional. 
 He generally apprehended its meaning, with great 
 clearness and got it all out. When he finished 
 with a text, there was nothing more to be said. It 
 was embarrassing to a preacher to hear or read one 
 of his sermons. He felt that he would have to avoid 
 the text ever afterwards, or do something else, and 
 right often he did something else. 
 
 It often occurs that men who are skillful in map- 
 ping out sermons are sloven and indolent as to their 
 finish. Into this snare, Dr. Jeter never fell. He said 
 that he always thought his sermons through so 
 minutely that he knew every word that he intended 
 to utter, before he went into the pulpit. Of course, 
 after he commenced and his soul took fire, he often 
 leaped the track of his preparation and made excur- 
 sions of which he had not thought in advance, and 
 when that vicious memory of his fell into the sulks, 
 his patient preparation proved of little worth. 
 
 I have spoken of his illustrations. I do not think 
 that he had any extraordinary gift for illustrations. 
 He believed in them and often used them to advan- 
 tage. His imagination was almost brilliant, but it 
 was timid and his voice was not well suited for pic- 
 torial preaching. The outlines of his pictures were 
 excellent, but they often lacked color. He could 
 draw, but he could not paint. There was, however, 
 a distinctness in the draughts of his pictures which 
 made an indelible impression. One thing often struck 
 me, and that was the exceeding purity of his imagi- 
 
314 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 nation. It may be truly said of him that he had a 
 deeply pious and holy imagination. It never pro- 
 duced anything that had the least taint upon it. It 
 was thoroughly loyal to the truth, and when dealing 
 with Scripture incidents, it always kept within the 
 line. He ought to have cultivated his imagination 
 more thoroughly ; it would have enhanced his pop- 
 ular power. A few times I saw him when his 
 imagination broke from its fears and became in- 
 tensely excited. It threw a glow over his discourses 
 which no words can describe and which inflamed his 
 audience into the wildest passion. 
 
 He was a great teacher. One could not hear him 
 without learning something about the Bible. Those 
 who enjoyed his constant ministrations grew rapidly 
 in knowledge. He enkindled men's love of the truth 
 and turned them into students. Persons were accus- 
 tomed to say that his sermons " staid with them." 
 Some could preach more charmingly than he, but 
 what he said, was not forgotten. 
 
 There was great variety in his preaching. He 
 roamed the entire domain of gospel truth, and 
 one could not sit very long under his ministry 
 without being escorted over the whole range of 
 theology. 
 
 It ought to be added that his preaching was rich 
 in spiritual consolation. He knew well how to ap- 
 ply the balm of the gospel to wounded hearts. He 
 preached best when dealing with eternal things. 
 His sermons on immortality, the resurrection, the 
 heavenly glory, the happiness of the redeemed and 
 other kindred topics brought out his highest strength 
 
IN THE PULPIT. 315 
 
 as a preacher and fell like divine benedictions upon 
 the people. 
 
 I agree with Bro. A. H. Sands that Dr. Jeter was 
 pre-eminent in hortatory preaching. He loved to 
 preach to the unconverted and rarely preached a 
 sermon without an appeal to them. But his ex- 
 hortations made after others had preached, or in 
 revival meetings, were simply irresistible. 
 
 In 1860 he held a meeting in Liberty, Va. One 
 night, after another brother had preached, without 
 any marked effect upon the congregation, Dr. Jeter 
 arose and began to speak. In a few moments his 
 whole nature seemed to be pervaded by the power 
 of God. His face was flushed with tender and pas- 
 sionate warmth, and his voice grew strangely mellow 
 and pathetic. He seemed to wrap the great crowd 
 in a resistless spell and to hold them by the very 
 strings of their hearts. I never heard such a won- 
 derful burst of eloquence and never saw an audi- 
 ence so completely overcome. Christians cried aloud 
 and sinners fell down , and begged for mercy. It was 
 a signal demonstration of his power when fully 
 equipped and at his best. 
 
 Judged by their immediate effects, the sermons of 
 Dr. Jeter, on some occasions, would be entitled to 
 the highest rank. They were not of the popular or 
 sensational type, but they were strong in thought, 
 convincing in argument, stirring in their appeals and 
 subduing in their pathos. The emotions awakened 
 by his more electric sermons were healthy and per- 
 manent. He did not deal exclusively or chiefly 
 with the hearts of men. He always began quietly, 
 
316 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 and the body of his discourses consisted in instruc- 
 tion and argument. He sought first to convince the 
 understanding and stir the heart with the probe 
 of his reason. If he could win attention in the 
 outset, lodge his message in the minds of his hear- 
 ers and bring them to accept his conclusions, he 
 never had much difficulty in storming their hearts. 
 It often happened that sermons which seemed slow 
 and dull in their earlier stages, would close with tre- 
 mendous power. He had some sermons which he 
 preached in protracted meetings, and when in a happy 
 humor he delivered them with surpassing effect. His 
 sermon on " Paul's Prayer for Onesiphorus " was, per- 
 haps, his greatest. 
 
 He was a thorough Baptist, and, while he did not 
 give the peculiar doctrines of his denomination any 
 offensive prominence, he often preached them. 
 
 This he did generally, in an incidental way, when 
 his text demanded it, but sometimes he would de- 
 liver serial sermons in which he would discuss Bap- 
 tist peculiarities in full. Always careful in his 
 scriptural quotations, he was critically so, when 
 presenting his own views or combating the tenets of 
 others. He was a master in pulpit courtesy, and 
 had the tact to preach " doctrinal sermons " without 
 wounding those who differed from him. He never 
 had a public discussion with any minister of another 
 denomination. This was not for lack of opportunity 
 or courage, but from a conviction that such debates 
 were rarely productive of good. 
 
 He was often called to preach or make addresses 
 at ordinations, mass-meetings and conventions. 
 
IN THE PULPIT. 317 
 
 These he prepared himself with scrupulous care and 
 almost invariably undertook to present the scrip- 
 tural aspect of the topic which he was invited to 
 discuss. He was great on funeral sermons, which, 
 in his earlier life, were held in high esteem. He was 
 sent for, far and wide, to deliver memorial addresses, 
 in honor of distinguished ministers. Many of these 
 were published. I had hoped to introduce his sermon 
 preached on the occasion of the death of Rev. Andrew 
 Broaddus, of Caroline County. It was not one of 
 his greatest efforts, but it was delivered while he 
 was comparatively a young man, and is of real merit. 
 It would serve as a fair sample of his sermons at that 
 time, and its publication would go a little way, at 
 least, in preserving the remembrance of one of the 
 most brilliant orators of the Virginia pulpit. 
 
 But I regret that the plan of this volume neces- 
 sarily forbids the publication of any of his sermons. 
 It was the wish of his life, earnestly repeated at his 
 death, that some of his works, at least, might be re- 
 published. This, for many reasons, seems most 
 desirable, and will be done hereafter, provided the 
 present sketch of his life shall seem to create a de- 
 mand for it. 
 
 His voice is now hushed and his hands are clasped 
 over his silent heart, but his sermons still abide. 
 They may never appear in book-form, but they are 
 republished in the lives of those who were saved by 
 his instrumentality, or strengthened for their con- 
 flicts by his ministrations. He is dead, but the truth 
 which he uttered shall endure forever. 
 
CHAPTER XITI. 
 
 PASTORAL CHARACTER. 
 
 IT has become quite common to distinguish sharply 
 between the preacher and the pastor. We often 
 hear it said of a man, that he is an admirable 
 preacher, but weak as a pastor, or that he is a cajDital 
 pastor but not much of a preacher, as if the two of- 
 fices were entirely distinct. They cannot really be 
 separated. Preaching is only one phase of pastoral 
 work. One may be a preacher, without being a pas- 
 tor, but he cannot be of much value in the pastoral 
 office, except in a subordinate way, unless he is a 
 strong and effective preacher. In the preceding 
 chapter, I have discussed Dr. Jeter's characteristics 
 as a preacher, and nothing remains to be said on 
 that subject, except what will bear upon the pastoral 
 quality of his ministrations. 
 
 I need not say that the multiform character of 
 pastoral service has led to a diversity of sentiment, 
 as to what constitutes the body of a pastor's duty. 
 We see, on every, side, a disposition to exalt one 
 aspect of his duty at the expense of others. This 
 is done alike by the preachers and the people. 
 
 Some stake everything on the sermon. They 
 claim that the pulpit is the preacher's throne, from' 
 which he should never descend. If he preaches 
 318 
 
PASTORAL CHARACTER. 319 
 
 profound and quickening sermons, he has done his 
 full duty. Time given to other things is time lost. 
 Of this class there are some who magnify the popular 
 feature of the sermon. They gauge a preacher's 
 success by his ability to attract and entertain. If 
 his sermons are glowing and brilliant, and his pews 
 packed with people, he is a satisfactory pastor. 
 There are others who estimate a pastor by his social 
 qualities. They care little for the sermon, and 
 much for the visit. With them a pastor's worth is 
 measured by his manners. If he has grace in his 
 bow, warmth in his grasp, sympathy in his voice 
 and is much abroad among his people, he is esteemed 
 the model pastor. I ought to add that others yet 
 clamor for the practical element in their pastor. He 
 must be apt at figures, skilled in the matter of or- 
 ganizing, sharp in affairs of finance and a sort of 
 chief in all the aggressive movements of the church. 
 
 Dr. Jeter was not a model pastor. In some re- 
 spects he was singularly weak — a fact which no one 
 realized or deplored so deeply as he did. One thing, 
 however, can be truthfully said in his favor, and 
 when that is said, we have gone far in his praise. 
 
 He believed in the various aspects of pastoral 
 work, and sought to be faithful in all. He did not 
 run on one line to the neglect of others, though he 
 did not enjoy equally the different departments of 
 his office. So far as he could, he held the several 
 phases of his work in their due proportions. That 
 he was, in the same measure, effective at every point 
 is not claimed. Indeed, it would be hard to find a 
 minister so versatile, fertile and evenly balanced that 
 
320 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 he could take a large city church, and discharge all 
 of the arduous and conflicting duties of his position, 
 with satisfaction to himself or to others. Such 
 churches often attempt and require impossible 
 things. They lay upon one man the duties which 
 would fill the hearts and hands of a half-dozen. 
 They point to Spurgeon, with his great Tabernacle, 
 his thousands of members, his college and his or- 
 phanage, and seem to think it utterly inexplicable 
 that other preachers cannot manage so wisely as 
 does the celebrated London preacher. 
 
 They forget, if they ever knew, that Spurgeon has 
 a large corps of skilled assistants, and has little to 
 do with the details and drudgeries of his position. 
 The Baptists will have better city churches when 
 their pastoral forces are multiplied. If Dr. Jeter did 
 not do all that pertained to his office, it can, at least, 
 be said that he was sensitively conscientious as to 
 the varied requirements which were upon him, 
 and did the best that he could on every line. 
 
 So far as I have -learned, his relations with his 
 churches were uniformly agreeable. He never knew 
 the bitterness of a serious disturbance, and lived 
 largely on the sunny side of ministerial life. This 
 may have been owing, in part, to the noble charac- 
 ter of his churches, and it may have been due, in 
 part, to his own discretion and fidelity. But largely, 
 I think, the happiness of his lot may be traced to 
 the sound scriptural views of the pastoral office 
 which he held. He believed in its divine authority, 
 and had a lofty conception of its dignity, responsi- 
 bility and usefulness. He was also a simple-hearted 
 
PASTORAL CHARACTER. 321 
 
 believer in the independence of the churches and in 
 their right to select their own guides and teachers. 
 These convictions, coupled with his life-long persua- 
 sion that he was called of God to the ministry, and 
 that the pastor was made for the church and not the 
 church for the pastor, made him a good pastor. 
 While always allowed broad liberty as to the meth- 
 ods of his service, he esteemed himself the servant of 
 his church. The tie which bound him to his people 
 he regarded as peculiarly sacred, and never wan- 
 tonly strained it. 
 
 Now and then, in his extended career, he was re- 
 minded how intensely independent a Baptist Church 
 can be with its pastor when the humor strikes it. 
 During his pastorate at the First Church, he had an 
 experience which must have tested his amiability. 
 At a certain church-meeting, he announced modestly 
 to his brethren, that it was the wish of his heart to 
 visit his former charge in the Northern Neck, and 
 requested a leave of absence for that purpose. His 
 plea was strengthened by the fact that his wife was 
 from that section and desired, to visit her kindred. 
 As he made a formal request for permission to go, 
 and as so many circumstances seemed to conspire in 
 his favor, he was confident that the church would 
 yield a prompt and cheerful consent. 
 
 But the tide did not set that way. An honored 
 brother minister, then a member of that church, was 
 present, and, while an ardent friend of Dr. Jeter, 
 had a conscience that was remorselessly strict in its 
 notions of a pastor's duty. He arose, and in a crisp 
 and sharply punctuated style, said : " Brethren, we 
 21 
 
322 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 all love Brother Jeter, — love him very much and 
 like to gratify him ; but I do not think we ought to 
 let him go at this time. The church needs his at- 
 tention, and will suffer by his absence. I move that 
 we refuse to grant his request." 
 
 This cold and matter-of-fact motion swept out 
 every kindly sentiment in favor of his going and 
 put a chill upon the meeting. As no one ventured 
 to champion the pastor's cause, the motion was 
 finally submitted and carried. 
 
 It was now Dr. Jeter's time to speak. He arose 
 slowly, and, with a grim, half-playful smile, said : 
 "Very well, brethren; I very much desired to visit 
 my friends in the Northern Neck. I spent nine 
 happy years among them, and am ardently devoted 
 to them. I did think you would let me go; but as 
 your verdict is against me, I submit without a mur- 
 mur. I will not only stay, but I will try to be 
 more faithful than ever." 
 
 There was no timorous or cringing tone in his 
 submissiveness to the authority of his church. That 
 authority he honestly recognized, and had no wish 
 to evade. It was not possible for a man of his char- 
 acter to play the humble role as a device for keeping 
 his people in a good humor. Sacrifices of personal 
 comfort for the good of the church, he was always 
 ready to make. His domestic and social engage- 
 ments he held subordinate to the claims of his 
 people. He would even concede much to their in- 
 firmities and caprices. He fought no futile battles 
 with them, and was ever ready to surrender, on de- 
 
PASTORAL CHARACTER. 323 
 
 mand, when there was nothing to be given up, except 
 his own preferences. 
 
 But I need not tell those who knew him that he 
 had no unmanly or servile fear of his churches. He 
 did not fear anybody. If any important question of 
 policy or doctrine was involved, it was easy to find 
 where he stood. His views were public property. 
 He would antagonize the church on any great issue, 
 if he believed that an important principle was in- 
 volved. While always outspoken, he was usually 
 deliberate and amiable in debate. But he had an 
 imperial will and a fiery, impetuous nature, and 
 when he fought, he put out his strength. His for- 
 bearance, especially in his early life, had its limits. 
 He could get mad, and sometimes did. 
 
 There was something pleasing in the moral tone 
 of his anger. He was rarely excited without a 
 strong provocation; but if he felt aggrieved, he did 
 not hide it. He came out with it on the spot. Dr. 
 Witt told me, that in one of Dr. Jeter's church meet- 
 ings, there sprang up, suddenly, a sharp and wrathful 
 debate. It ran on for an hour or two, and grew in 
 acrimony as it advanced. Dr. Jeter felt constrained 
 to take part in the discussion, and found himself 
 confronted by one of his deacons, not eminent for his 
 courtesy, who treated him with marked severity. 
 Dr. Jeter replied with dignity, and by his arguments 
 ruthlessly battered down the deacon's strongholds. 
 This infuriated the brother, and he came back upon 
 the Doctor in a manner that exasperated him almost 
 beyond control. He sprang to his feet, flushed and 
 indignant and eager to reply. 
 
324 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 Just then, a gentle and pacific old brother took 
 the floor, and, tearfully bewailing the turn that mat- 
 ters had taken, proposed that some brother should 
 lead in prayer. It may have been a heaven-born 
 proposition; it was at least one which nobody ven- 
 tured to oppose. It did not, however, chime in 
 with the feeling which at that moment was upper- 
 most in the breast of the excited pastor. He wished 
 to talk. Against the call to prayer he said nothing; 
 but his face was a volume of argument against it. 
 Everybody knelt except him, and then he reluc- 
 tantly bent his hinges, as if it was a torture to him. 
 As he came down, he touched a brother at his side, 
 and said in an audible whisper : " I don't feel like 
 praying." How like him that was ! He might be 
 mad; but he could not be insincere. 
 
 In his conception of the pastoral office there was 
 no room for servility. He was no foot-ball to be 
 kicked about by the whims and cruelties of coarse 
 and ill-bred people. He always bore himself with 
 courtly, dignity and gentle courtesy toward others, 
 and he exacted the same, at their hands. He had 
 his share of crotchety and ill-tempered men, and 
 hysterical and captious women in his churches. 
 They sometimes gave him serious annoyance. But 
 he well understood how to let such people alone. 
 Sometimes he would squelch them remorselessly; 
 but ordinarily he left them to their unreasonable- 
 ness and waited for better times. 
 
 He was always forward and courageous in advo- 
 cating measures that promised good to the church. 
 If he encountered opposition, he met it in a frank 
 
PASTORAL CHARACTER. 325 
 
 and open manner; but he did not yield to it. It 
 seemed to be a part of his nature to contend ear- 
 nestly for what he believed, regardless of conse- 
 quences. If he believed that a given measure would 
 promote the efficiency of the church, he would say 
 so, though he might not have a single sympathizer. 
 Not that he was headstrong or obstinate enough to 
 undertake to force upon his people things, for which 
 they were not ready and which would disturb their 
 peace. But he was essentially broad in his views 
 and always eager for progress. He went in the 
 lead of his people, and at times was far to the front. 
 When new enterprises were suggested to him, that 
 seemed feasible and necessary, he would advocate 
 them. If his church would not adopt them, he took 
 it in good part and bided his time. By degrees he 
 would press the agitation, until at length his breth- 
 ren came around to his views. In this way he se- 
 cured the adoption of plans and methods which, at 
 the first blush, his people were loth to accept. 
 
 He was a master in this line of pastoral work. 
 Always generous and public-spirited in his motives, 
 and manifestly exempt from partisan rancor, he 
 rarely alienated his people, by advocating what they 
 would not adopt. They might question his judg- 
 ment, but they could never doubt his honesty nor 
 fail to respect his purity. He never showed to a 
 better advantage than when in a contest, unless it 
 was, when the contest was ended. He bore defeat 
 with extraordinary cheerfulness. Not that he was 
 indifferent to success. He loved to have his own 
 way remarkably well, yet he never exhibited much 
 
326 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 chagrin when vanquished. He presented his case, 
 made his argument, pressed it with ardent and dis- 
 interested valor, and if his people could not see the 
 matter as he did, he bowed gracefully to the inevit- 
 able. 
 
 It was not often that his measures went to wreck. 
 He usually carried his point, and the modesty with 
 which he usually behaved, in the moment of victory 
 was beautiful indeed. He would, now and then, per- 
 haps unwisely, indulge a quiet strain of exultation at 
 the expense of a stubborn opponent. He was once 
 engaged in a debate with some of his brethren. This 
 time he clearly saw that the popular current was in 
 his favor, as was evinced by one or two preliminary 
 votes. A brother on the other side, seeing inevitable 
 defeat before him, grew dismally prophetic. "Ah, 
 brethren," said he, " you may carry this thing now — 
 you may carry it now — but think not, I beg you, 
 that the question will be settled. It will come back 
 again and will not down at your bidding." There 
 was something so ludicrously portentous in the bro- 
 ther's manner, that it amused Dr. Jeter, and spring- 
 ing up, he said, " Oh, think not so, brother ! We pro- 
 pose to thrash you so handsomely this time that you 
 will never have the hardihood to bring it back again." 
 The playful hit provoked great laughter, and sure 
 enough the brother never brought it back again. 
 
 Dr. Jeter could hardly be called a popular pastor. 
 In the pulpit he was strong rather than pleasing and 
 too richly instructive to be generally entertaining. 
 He was so analytical, discriminating and critical that 
 it was not easy to follow him. Folks that did not 
 
PASTORAL CHARACTER. 327 
 
 have the capacity to walk a straight line of reason- 
 ing to a distant conclusion, were apt to break down 
 and miss the point of his sermon. To dull people 
 he was a dull preacher. 
 
 Not that plain people could not appreciate him. 
 Many of his best hearers were simple, and even illit- 
 erate, but they had brains in their heads and a de- 
 sire for the truth in their hearts. To them his ser- 
 mons were full of light. 
 
 I ought also to say, that the spiritual element in 
 his sermons was predominant. He preached the 
 gospel and nothing else. His manner lacked those 
 taking points which compel attention, and there was 
 not sufficient vividness in his illustrations to keep 
 the popular fancy aglow. Those who did not have 
 a spiritual relish could not enjoy his sermons. Some 
 intelligent people habitually slept under his preach- 
 ing, but that was not the fault of his preaching. 
 
 He did not attract great congregations. Indeed, 
 he sometimes suffered in the estimation of his friends 
 by reason of the smallness of his audiences'. Empty 
 benches, on Sunday nights at least, were no unusual 
 spectacles to him. It happened, more than once, 
 that some flaring sky-rocket of a preacher in a neigh- 
 boring pulpit, would start a sensation, which for a 
 time would draw away the lighter portions of Jeter's 
 congregation. This did not seem to disconcert him 
 in the least. His intelligent and devout people al- 
 ways stood by him. He was also much sought after 
 by strangers. Distinguished visitors to the city, par- 
 ticularly ministers, generally made it a point to hear 
 him. 
 
328 LIFE 0F JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 As a pastor he was notably candid. He resorted 
 to no roundabout expedients. He worked in an hon- 
 est, old-fashioned way. He was no sleek and oily 
 Jesuit, trading in craft and flattery, to help his fame. 
 He was none of your bustling, noisy pastors, whip- 
 ping wildly around as if ever on a race, bobbing in 
 and out of every house, affecting familiarity with all 
 sorts of people, fond of tainted jests, recounting vast 
 achievements, parading catalogues of visits made and 
 charities dispensed, feeding and trying to feed others 
 on sensation and excitement. Not such was he. A 
 calm, steady, conscientious man, watching as one who 
 must give account, he toiled along day by day in his 
 Master's vineyard. 
 
 It could not be said that he was a great visitor. 
 I believe it was one of his rules as a pastor to make 
 an annual call upon every member of his church, but 
 I doubt not, that in the long run he often fell short 
 in this matter. He would not spend his time in vis- 
 iting merely to help his reputation, or to keep his 
 people in a good humor. If he went, it was for a 
 purpose. His visits were often largely social, de- 
 signed to cultivate pleasant acquaintanceship with 
 the members of his charge. He was very careful in 
 his attentions to the sick, and on such occasions his 
 company was inexpressibly delightful. While not 
 demonstrative, he was so sincerely kind and so fer- 
 vent in his sympathies that he gave great comfort to 
 the afflicted. His prayers beside the sick-bed were 
 peculiarly unctuous, beseeching and prevalent. 
 Some are living to-day who were recovered from 
 their sicknesses in answer to his prayers. There was 
 
PASTORAL CHARACTER. 329 
 
 in hiui a quaint humor and a rippling, contagious 
 sort of merriment which made him a welcome com- 
 panion in the sick-chamber. 
 
 Not long before he died, he called to see a gentle- 
 man who was ill. The physician had given an order 
 that no visitors were to be admitted, and of course 
 he was turned away. At the next call of the phy- 
 sician, he learned that Dr. Jeter had been to see his 
 patient, but was denied entrance. " Oh," said the phy- 
 sician, " I am sorry that you did not let him in. 
 His presence could never hurt anybody : so far from 
 it, I feel that he can do a great deal more for the sick 
 man than I can." A beautiful compliment to the 
 dear old man of God and true as well. He called 
 again upon the sick man, at the very crisis of his 
 disease, and was admitted. He talked cheerfully 
 with the sufferer and then knelt down and prayed 
 for him. From that hour, the man began to recover. 
 
 It need not be said that Dr. Jeter never satisfied 
 the popular clamor for pastoral visiting. No man 
 can ever do that, unless he makes his visits so in- 
 tensely spiritual, that they become distasteful to those 
 who are usually so unreasonable in demanding them. 
 
 He had one grievous infirmity which stood in the 
 way of his usefulness as a pastor. He could not re- 
 member people — either their names or their faces. 
 This gave him trouble everywhere, but most of all 
 as a pastor. He would pass his church members, and 
 even his best friends, on the street without speaking 
 to them. He not only did not recognize them, but 
 he did not look at them. This did not of course 
 arise from a haughty pride, as some foolishly imag- 
 
330 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 ined. but because he was so fully entertained with 
 his own thoughts. It sometimes gave great offence 
 to the more sensitive members of his charge. A 
 somewhat familiar incident will fit at this point. 
 
 He had, at one of his prayer-meetings, said publicly that it 
 was perhaps possible often to give offense when none was in. 
 tended, and he warned the brethren who were present not to 
 harbor resentment against a fellow-member for any fancied 
 wrong, but to go and speak to the offeudiug brother and have 
 an explanation at once, and not permit the matter to grow. As 
 for himself, he said: "If any brother has aught against me, I 
 wish he would now and here tell me of it, that I may make 
 proper reparation." He was not prepared for what followed. 
 Immediately on his taking his seat, a brother arose and said : 
 " Brother Jeter, I have something against you. You often pass 
 me in the street without speaking to me, and I am hurt by it. 
 My pastor certainly should speak to me whenever he sees me." 
 Brother Jeter remembered the rebuke. The next morning, quite 
 early, he repaired to the building his brother was engaged in 
 work upon. It happened to be some church building in the 
 city, and the brother was quite high up from the ground. Bro- 
 ther Jeter came to the place, and lifting up his shrill voice to its 
 highest pitch, he called upon Brother Myers to come down. 
 When he reached the ground, Dr. Jeter shook his hand heartily, 
 and, in his kindest manner, bade him " Good- morning, Brother 
 Myers. How are you, Brother Myers?" Having accomplished 
 his purpose, and shown Brother Myers that he was not too proud 
 to speak to him, he bade the brother " Good-bye," and left. It 
 is said that the visit was repeated two or three times the same 
 day. But the latter part of the story is doubtless apocryphal. 
 It is not recorded in the annals of the church that, at any future 
 time, Brother Myers ever again spoke of the want of cordial 
 greeting from his pastor. 
 
 It is often forgotten that a man's natural peculi- 
 arities must inevitably cling to him when he becomes 
 
PASTORAL CHARACTER. 331 
 
 a pastor. He does not cease to be himself, but only 
 assumes the burdens of a new office. His native 
 weaknesses must break out on him, and get in the 
 way of his usefulness. Dr. Jeter was not a great 
 lover of people. He had a kind heart, wished every- 
 body well, and was ready to render a friendly service 
 whenever he could. But when brought to deal with 
 humanity in detail, he was often put at a disadvan- 
 tage. He was reserved, and at times severe, in his 
 manners. He was often so absorbed in his studies 
 that he was impatient of interruption. He failed to 
 recognize persons who fancied that they were special 
 favorites of his, and sometimes gave great offence by 
 mistaking one individual for another. He was, how- 
 ever, very amiable, and when he made blunders of 
 this kind he was always ready to make apologies, 
 and when upbraided for his neglects he was as meek 
 as a martyr. He knew that he was not strong on 
 this line, and strove faithfully to improve ; but age 
 joined with nature, to prevent his ever becoming an 
 expert in the social tactics of a pastor. 
 
 But it is just to him to say that he made great 
 advancement in pastoral efficiency. This will appear 
 if we will read the following paper from Dr. Ryland, 
 in which he describes him as he appeared to him 
 in 1836, at the beginning of his first Richmond 
 pastorate : 
 
 When he was chosen pastor of the First Church in Richmond, 
 of which I was a member, my acquaintance with him became 
 more intimate and my relations more endearing. Sitting under 
 his ministry — when not engaged in similar work — and often 
 thrown into his private company, I found that he was intensely 
 
332 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 desirous of improvement. Indeed, he invited the most severe 
 criticisms on his social life and on his public performances. Allow 
 me to say just here that at the Columbian College, where I had 
 studied for more than three years, students were assembled from 
 nearly all the States, and bringing with them the manners and 
 provincialisms peculiar to their respective homes, they had 
 learned to discuss among themselves their various points of dif- 
 ference with mutual freedom and good-will. Add to this that 
 Dr. Stoughton, the president, was a nice critic in grammar, pro- 
 nunciation, style and gesture in our rhetorical exercises. All 
 this experience tended to make me a close observer of the mental 
 and social habits of those who came before me. When the sub- 
 ject of the criticism was anxious to receive it and was likely to 
 profit by it, I took great pleasure in exercising the privilege. It 
 happened that my pastor had a singular coldness of manner in 
 saluting his friends, and that it was circumscribing his influence 
 for good among his people. I must give some instances. I was 
 spending some days with my loving friends, Mr. and Mrs. Hol- 
 lins, in Lynchburg. Her niece, Miss Thomas, of Richmond, was 
 also on a visit to the family. Brother Jeter, then her pastor, 
 was to dine with us. We walked up through the lawn towards 
 the £ate to meet him. The dear girl was in an ecstasy of delight 
 at the idea of seeing her pastor ; but when they met, he gave her 
 the most forbidding salutation I ever witnessed, and she was 
 really mortified. I was once at his house when he reached home 
 after several days' absence, and he met his wife, who could not 
 conceal her pleasure at his return, without a kiss and with a 
 studied indifference which surprised me and distressed her. Still, 
 he was doubtless an affectionate husband and a faithful friend. 
 This frigid repulsiveness of manner often chilled the members of 
 his church, who nevertheless were drawn towards him by his 
 solid worth. Having seen this defect and heard complaints from 
 his friends, I gave him, in private, a plain and candid talk on 
 the subject. Taking him by the hand, grasping it firmly and 
 shaking it heartily, I said : " This is the way, my brother, to shake 
 hands." After all, he was a kind-hearted man, but had fallen 
 into an odd way of showing his affection. His sympathy was 
 practical, but not sentimental. I have occasion to know that he 
 
PASTORAL CHARACTER. 333 
 
 often relieved suffering by substantial aid, while the man of mere 
 feeling would have shed the useless tears, and spoken the words 
 of pity, and passed on. Still, cordiality is very pleasant. There 
 was also an absent-mindedness in Dr. Jeter that sometimes set 
 him off to great disadvantage. At a meeting of the Foreign 
 Mission Board we were all sitting round the room waiting to 
 begin our deliberations, when he came in with a distinguished 
 stranger. Beginning at one point in the circle, he introduced 
 him to each member till he came to me. Then turning around 
 abruptly, he began at the same point, and again introduced him 
 to each one, till he reached me, when he took the moderator's 
 chair. I immediately rose, gave my hand to the visitor, told him 
 my name and resumed my seat. He seemed not to notice the 
 omission, and made no apology. I was reduced to the necessity of 
 charging him either with great rudeness or with a studied insult, 
 though reluctant to adopt either alternative. After some delay 
 and reflection, I called on him and kindly rehearsed my griev- 
 ance. He burst into a laugh, and declared it was a case of pure 
 inadvertency. I would not mention so trifling an incident, but for 
 the purpose of showing that good brethren may sometimes take 
 umbrage and cherish alienation when no discourtesy is intended. 
 This weakness showed itself sometimes in the pulpit. After 
 reading a well-known chapter from one of the epistles, he would 
 say in a squeaking voice : " So reads the twelfth chapter of Mat- 
 theiv," and a smile would pass over the countenances of his au- 
 dience. More serious is the effect when a pastor cannot recall 
 the names of brethren and sisters whose faces are familiar and 
 who are disposed to ascribe the failure of memory to pride. 
 They forget that the name and the person bearing it are two 
 different entities, and that we may often recognize the person 
 and not the name. They should bear in mind, too, that it is far 
 easier for five hundred to retain the name of one than for that 
 one promptly to recall the names of five hundred. So far from 
 its being due to pride that ministers do not generally retain and 
 recall the names of their friends, it is with them universally a 
 source of regret and humiliation. In this respect Mr. Jeter was 
 not peculiar. 
 
334 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 Those who knew him in his old age must be sur- 
 prised by some statements in Dr. Ryland's paper. 
 How changed he was by the experiences of forty 
 years! He believed in changes when they were on 
 the side of improvement. He studied his own weak 
 points that he might strengthen them. He never 
 became perfect, but he got better and better to the 
 last. He steadily grew Christ-ward. While never 
 exactly popular as a pastor, Dr. Jeter was always 
 revered and honored. The young people were not 
 very easy and free with him, but they did not com- 
 plain of that. It was no more than they could expect. 
 They realized that the distance between them was 
 all in his favor. His holiness and wisdom put him 
 beyond the reach of familiarity. He had a hold 
 upon them — not such as comes from that romping 
 and rollicking freedom which some pastors encourage 
 on the part of their young people, but from their deep 
 veneration for his character. Their love for Dr. 
 Jeter was, in itself, a devout and godly thing, essen- 
 tially a religious sentiment, awakened, not by his 
 captivating manners, but by his solid christian worth. 
 The old people drew nearer to him. They passed the 
 outer gate of his reserve, and came in sight of his 
 heart. They knew him, not only in his massive 
 strength and exalted piety, but in his kindly and 
 loving spirit. They looked upon him as simply 
 peerless, — the greatest of men, — and when he stepped 
 out of his pastorate, they did not find it easy to open 
 their embrace for those who came to succeed him. 
 
 It was my fortune to succeed him, though not 
 immediately, in the pastorate of a church of which 
 
PASTORAL CHARACTER. 335 
 
 he continued to be a member. I had an ample op- 
 portunity of observing; the place which he retained 
 in the hearts of his people. Their love for him was 
 tender and strong, and grew to the last. 
 
 I often find myself agreeing with my honored 
 friend, A. H. Sands, in his estimates of Dr. Jeter. 
 He measured him critically, but with justness and 
 candor. In what he has to say of him, he exhibits 
 a singular freedom from extravagance and prejudice. 
 It is a pleasant picture of his old pastor, which he 
 presents in the paper below. Dr. Jeter was evi- 
 dently too forbearing in matters of discipline. A 
 pastor ought to lean to mercy's side ; but he must 
 not lean too far. His compassion for the weak must 
 not cause him to forget the honor of his church. He 
 must not seem to connive at wrong-doing. Dr. Jeter 
 was not discriminating in his judgment of men. In- 
 deed, he did not study human character very closely, 
 and often, on questions of discipline, his views were 
 unsafe. He understood the principles admirably, 
 but he was in danger of going astray, when called to 
 apply them. In the case of a brother arraigned for 
 disorder, he was often willing, on the score of charity, 
 to give him another chance. He was hopeful of hu- 
 manity, and thought generally that the brother who 
 had stumbled in the past would almost certainly 
 recover his uprightness in the future. 
 
 This is always a puzzling matter to a pastor. It 
 is hard for him to find the golden mean between 
 leniency and severity. Dr. Fuller once said of a 
 brother pastor, that his chief mission in the world 
 seemed to be to turn people out of the church. If 
 
336 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 Dr. Jeter erred at all, it was in the direction of for- 
 bearance. Here is what Brother Sands says : 
 
 Dr. Jeter was not a rigid, but a moderate church disciplinarian. 
 When it became necessary to discipline, even to exclude, one of 
 his members, he did hot shrink from the performance of his duty. 
 But his aim ever was, as it ever should be the aim of church 
 members, to impress upon the person dealt with that it was not in 
 anger, but in love, that the disciplinary power of the church was 
 exercised. 
 
 For nine years I was a deacon in his church, and can tell you 
 of his methods during that time. Our deacons' meetings were 
 conducted very simply. A reading of a brief passage of the 
 Scriptures and a prayer opened the meeting. After that, there 
 came before us the several matters of church finance, the wants 
 of the poor members, the needs of the sick, and then such cases 
 as might demand the attention of the church, either for neglect 
 of church duty or for some unchristian conduct. These meetings 
 were held once a month in the pastor's study, and were attended 
 by all the deacons and the pastor with unfailing regularity. 
 
 As chairman of his church meetings, he was always courteous, 
 Christian and gentlemanly. He never became angry. When 
 provocations occurred he would aim to be gentle, and to keep in 
 check, the church members as well as himself. He had firm con- 
 victions of duty, and sought to carry them out, but neither in 
 the more public convocations of the Baptists nor in his own 
 church have I ever seen him do anything unkind and unfraternal. 
 His judgments were usually sanctioned by the approval of his 
 brethren. He was always open in his advocacy, and as open and 
 pronounced in his opposition. He had no finesse. He was with- 
 out artifice. He never aimed to circumvent. He was content 
 to let reason do her own work, without any help from so-called relig- 
 ious tact. I doubt whether long training and diligent study, 
 under most adroit and skillful teachers, could ever have made a 
 decent wire-puller of him. There was one thing he could not be 
 — he could not be dishonest. All these traits were marked as 
 distinctly in his connection with his individual church as in the 
 great annual gatherings of the Baptists. 
 
PASTORAL CHARACTER. 337 
 
 From his early life he became a sort of authority 
 among his brother pastors, on those doctrinal and 
 practical questions which so often cause trouble in 
 the churches. They frequently plied him with 
 queries, and these he always answered with brotherly 
 courtesy, and after mature thought. Here is a letter 
 in which, as far back as 1849, he gave his views of 
 " alien immersions " : 
 
 Richmond, Jan. 27, 1849. 
 Rev. L. W. Moore : 
 
 Dear Bro. — I have not had an earlier opportunity to reply to 
 your letter. The question as to the validity of baptism performed 
 by a Pedo-baptist minister on a properly qualified subject does 
 not seem to me to be of great practical importance. It cannot be 
 decided by the direct teaching of the Scriptures, for no such 
 question could have arisen in apostolic times. Its decision must 
 depend on remote and not very certain inferences. Many of our 
 Associations have decided the question, some one way, and some 
 the other ; and a few, as the Dover, for instance, both ways. 
 Our wisest ministers have differed on the subject ; and have 
 agreed to differ. I deem it, therefore, ill-judged to lay any stress 
 on the subject. Let pastors and churches, and persons immersed 
 by Pedo-baptists, or others not in fellowship with our churches, 
 settle the question for themselves. While the world stands, 
 plausible arguments may be offered on both sides of it. Whoever 
 enters into the discussion, I shall not. Still, I have my view, and 
 I will briefly indicate the ground of it. 
 
 I think that baptism (immersion) performed on a believer, in 
 a solemn and becoming manner, by a Pedo-baptist minister, or 
 other unbaptized person supposed by the candidate to be a quali- 
 fied administrator, is valid for the following reasons : 
 
 1. The opposite opinion proceeds on the supposition that the 
 baptism of the administrator is essential to the validity of the 
 ordinance. If this is true, it is probable, indeed, almost certain, 
 that there is no valid baptism in the world. For who can believe 
 that Baptists, outlawed, persecuted, and hunted as they have been, 
 22 
 
338 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, DD. 
 
 have maintained an unbroken line of baptisms from the time of 
 the apostles ? 
 
 2. The opposite view exalts baptism above piety. I admit that 
 none are duly authorized to administer baptism but such as be- 
 lieve in Christ, are immersed, members of a visible church, called 
 of God to the ministry, and properly ordained by the church to 
 the work. But are all these qualifications essential to the validity 
 of the ordinance ? Not according to Baptist usage. The baptism 
 of hypocrites or of impostors is held to be valid. Why should 
 the lack of baptism, any more than of piety, invalidate the 
 ordinance ? 
 
 3. Baptism is an act of obedience on the part of a believer, 
 and may be sincere, the answer of a good conscience, acceptable 
 to God, though there may be some unknown defect in the qualifi- 
 cations of the administrator. God will hold him responsible for 
 the unauthorized act, but not the right-meaning subject of it. 
 
 4. On the score of expediency, I see nothing to be gained, but 
 much to be lost, by repudiating Pedo-baptist immersions. Many 
 who have been immersed by Pedo-baptists, finding their position 
 in Pedo-baptist churches inconsistent, would readily unite with 
 Baptist churches and become valuable members, but they cannot 
 generally be easily persuaded to repeat their baptism. Again, it 
 is, in my view, sound policy to encourage the immersion of believers 
 among Pedo-baptists, for in this way our views of the ordinance 
 are indirectly spread, and, in the end, the whole fabric of infant 
 baptism would be overthrown. 
 
 Having devoted more time to the subject than the good likely 
 to flow from my labor justifies, I am, yours truly, 
 
 J. B. Jeter. 
 
 As it is worth while to uncover Dr. Jeter to the 
 view of the reader at every possible turn in his life, 
 I put here a droll and laughable incident which 
 occurred in one of his church meetings. I will allow 
 an eye-witness to tell the story in his own words : 
 
 I saw him once completely nonplussed. We had a church 
 member, a Brother S., who had given us much trouble. He was 
 
PASTORAL CHARACTER. 339 
 
 negligent of his church duty, he rarely attended the Sabbath 
 exercises of the church and was never present at any other meet- 
 ings of the church, whether for business or for devotion. It was 
 said, too, and believed, that his walk in daily life was irregular. 
 The church was greatly tried. After repeated notices to be 
 present, he was finally gotten to one of the business meetings of 
 the church, and his case was taken up and considered. The 
 church was unwilling to exclude him, hoping that milder disci- 
 pline might effect a reformation. The resolution was taken to 
 administer to him a public reproof, and the pastor was called 
 upon to discharge that office at once. Brother S. was requested 
 to take his seat on the front pew, and Brother Jeter proceeded to 
 obey the order of the church in administering the reproof. The 
 pastor began by telling item by item the almost numberless 
 delinquencies of the brother. He told him of his neglect of duty, 
 of his absence from the church, of the anxiety his absence pro- 
 duced, of the great care and circumspection demanded of the 
 Christian in his daily walk. In brief, he administered both a 
 thorough and stinging rebuke for his neglects, and urged upon 
 him the need for amendment. All was put in most appropriate 
 style. At its conclusion, with emphasis, and to re-awaken the 
 dormant Christian feeling of the recusant member, if he had any, 
 he asked him, " In view of all this, of what I have said to you, 
 and this present admonition, Brother S., how do you feel ?" Of 
 course, something of penitence was looked for ; something of regret 
 for the delinquencies of so many months and years. But neither 
 appeared in the countenance or in the speech of the imperturba- 
 ble brother. With a nonchalance almost incredible, he replied : 
 " I am feeling pretty well, I thank you." This was the last 
 admonition Brother S. ever received from the lips of the kind 
 pastor. A few months after, he was cut off from the church, and 
 was as happy and felt as well outside the church as he had ever 
 felt in it. 
 
 The opinion is expressed in a former chapter that 
 Dr. Jeter was not eminent for success in revival 
 meetings. The remark may be misleading. His 
 labors among other churches were sometimes attended 
 
340 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 with wonderful success, and occasionally he conducted 
 the meetings in his own churches, with the happiest 
 results. When he had the aid of other pastors, he 
 retained charge of his meetings, delivered exhorta- 
 tions, instructed inquirers, examined candidates for 
 baptism and visited the unconverted. 
 
 One of his methods of reaching the more intelli- 
 gent and thoughtful members of his congregation 
 was by writing them letters. This he often did, and 
 not unfrequently with the most pleasing consequences. 
 Below will be found a letter written to a young man 
 in 1846, and it is made public now for the first time. 
 It was a nail in a sure place, and the brother to 
 whom it was addressed is now an honored member 
 of the First Baptist Church of Richmond. 
 
 Richmond, Sept 28, 1846. 
 Wilson Thomas : 
 
 Dear Sir — Let the earnest solicitude which I feel for your wel- 
 fare, and the difficulty of having a private interview with you, 
 be my apology for addressing you by letter. The late severe 
 affliction in your father's family cannot have failed to impress on 
 your mind the importance of an early preparation to meet God. 
 I am anxious, and your parents are far more deeply anxious, that 
 this impression should not prove evanescent and unprofitable. 
 God has been gracious to you. From your childhood you have 
 been taught the nature and necessity of religion ; and, no doubt, 
 your heart has often prompted you to embrace it. God has now 
 sent a painful affliction on you for the purpose of calling your 
 attention more strongly to the religious lessons which you have 
 learned. And shall this solemn warning be in vain ? I trust not. 
 
 Consider, my young friend, you owe it to your own soul to be 
 religious. God has given you a soul of inestimable woi-th. 
 Whether that soul shall be happy or miserable, an inhabitant of 
 heaven or hell, depends on your conduct in this short life. And 
 
PASTORAL CHARACTER. 341 
 
 will you, can you, be so cruel to your soul as to neglect its salva- 
 tion — to risk its eternal well-being, even for a single day ? 
 
 You owe it to your family to become religious without delay. 
 You well know how deep and painful is the anxiety which your 
 parents feel for your conversion. They have long prayed, and 
 hoped and waited for it. No event could give them so great joy. 
 You have seen their anguish caused by the death of your dear 
 brother ; but if that calamity should be the means of leading you 
 to Christ, and securing your salvation, their sorrow would be 
 greatly soothed. If there were no higher motive, and it were 
 possible to be pious from this motive alone, you should become 
 religious for the pleasure it would yield your venerated parents. 
 But there is a higher and stronger motive still. 
 
 You owe it to God to obey the gospel. He is your Creator and 
 rightful Sovereign. And, though you have rebelled against Him, 
 He has been long-suffering and kind to you. He gave His Son to 
 be the propitiation for your sins. His servants have instructed, 
 warned and exhorted you. His Spirit has, doubtless, moved you 
 to repentance. And now, let me seriously ask you, my young 
 friend, can you slight so much goodness, and disregard such strong 
 claims to your love and obedience ? Who is so lovely as Jesus 
 Christ ? Who has performed or endured so much to win your 
 love ? Who can so richly reward your poor services ? Oh ! surely 
 if anything is right, it is right to serve and honor God. 
 
 Let me now, in view of all these considerations, solemnly and 
 earnestly beseech you to give instant, constant and serious atten- 
 tion to the subject of religion. Permit not this favorable oppor- 
 tunity to pass unimproved. Your heart is tender, your conscience 
 is, in some measure, awakened, and in this hour of trouble you 
 should call on the Lord. I would not advise you to postpone 
 attention to the gospel until our protracted meeting shall com- 
 mence ; but I hope you may find it convenient, and may be dis- 
 posed, to attend the meetings with regularity, and a resolution, by 
 God's help, to be profited by them. 
 
 With sincere wishes and fervent prayers for your salvation, 
 I am, with true affection, 
 
 J. B. Jeter. 
 
342 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 During the war he wrote a tract with the title, 
 " A Mother's Parting Words to her Soldier Boy," for 
 distribution in the Southern army. It had a very 
 extensive circulation, and he learned that it was the 
 instrument of leading many soldiers to Christ. It 
 was a production of rare merit. It was a strong 
 Scriptural appeal in favor of the gospel, and breathed 
 a yearning tenderness which really seemed to have 
 been born of a mother's heart. 
 
 It can hardly be claimed that he had any great 
 tact in approaching the unconverted. He did not 
 seem to feel that he was well adapted to that work, 
 and it is likely that his solemn dignity of manner 
 caused the timid and the careless to dread him. 
 But he was by no means backward in pleading with 
 sinners. He was instant in season and out of season. 
 His zeal burned with a steady flame, even down to 
 old age, and he ceased not to warn men as he had 
 opportunity. An almost thrilling illustration of this 
 fact is found in the subjoined extract from an article 
 written for the Baltimore Baptist, in 1886, by Rev. 
 G. W. Beale on " A Day with Dr. J. B. Jeter" : 
 
 It was my privilege in the autumn of 1886, in "Westmoreland 
 County, Va., to meet the late Dr. J. B. Jeter for the first time 
 and to share his companionship during a day's ride, the object of 
 which was to gratify his expressed wish to visit Stratford and 
 Wakefield, the birth-places of General Lee and Washington. I 
 was at the time just entering upon the Christian ministry, and he 
 was about retiring from the pastoral office which he had so long 
 and successfully filled. I was, accordingly, ready to embrace 
 and improve the opportunity of sharing his company and coun- 
 sel for a day with all the interest and ardor that youth is gene- 
 
PASTORAL CHARACTER. 343 
 
 rally so ready to accord to one whose ripened experience and 
 wisdom have won eminent distinction and honor in life. 
 
 Some of the incidents of this ride, as they relate to certain 
 characteristics and habits of Dr. Jeter, made a lasting impression 
 upon my mind, and the publication of them may prove of interest 
 and profit to others. 
 
 A drive of a few miles on the morning of the day in question 
 brought us to Nomini Creek, which had to be crossed in an open 
 ferry-boat. During the passage, as Mr. Frederick, the well-known 
 ferry-man, pulled away at his chain, Dr. Jeter engaged him in 
 conversation on the constant perils of his vocation, his need of 
 a saving interest in Christ and a preparation for death. The 
 promptness with which he seized the opportunity and the season- 
 ableness of the Doctor's godly admonition in this case impressed 
 me at the time, and more so shortly afterwards, when the ferry- 
 man's son was suddenly drawn overboard by the same chain and 
 drowned. 
 
 After leaving the ferry and ascending the hill beyond, we 
 overtook a young man walking, whom we invited to occupy a 
 vacant seat in our vehicle. He accepted the offer and shared 
 our ride for an hour or more, and during much of the time he 
 was with us Dr. Jeter engaged him also in religious conversation, 
 urging upon him the need of a personal interest in the Saviour. 
 And when our roads diverged, and he alighted to resume his 
 walk, the Doctor's parting words with him were a kind entreaty 
 to seek to plant his feet " in the highway of holiness." These 
 words of gracious admonition, as I heard them fall from Dr. 
 Jeter's lips, became riveted on my feelings and memory when, 
 just one week later, I was called to minister at the burial of the 
 young man whom he had so kindly and faithfully entreated. 
 
 Nothing seemed to call forth his sympathy so fully 
 as an exhibition of religious concern on the part of 
 the unconverted. 
 
 If he heard of one who was inquiring the way of 
 life, he would go in search of him, and do his utmost 
 to save him. His faithfulness in instructing inquirers 
 
344 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 was worthy of all imitation. He took them from 
 the beginning, unfolding to them their true condition 
 as sinners, explaining the nature and value of Christ's 
 sacrifice, and presenting, in simple phrase, the terms 
 of salvation. 
 
 He was never in a hurry in rushing people into 
 the church. He was as careful in rejecting the un- 
 worthy as he was zealous in receiving those who 
 brought forth the fruits of repentance. His greatest 
 anxiety as a pastor was to promote the spirituality 
 of his own people. It cut him deeply when he dis- 
 covered signs of apathy, inconsistency or worldliness 
 among his members. 
 
 I was with him in the Pastors' Conference in 
 Richmond, Va., one Monday morning in 1860. He 
 seemed to be sorely cast down by the spiritual con- 
 dition of his church. One of the pastors remarked 
 that he was much encouraged by the look of things 
 in his church the day before, adding that his brethren 
 seemed to be greatly " stirred up." Dr. Jeter said 
 very sorrowfully, and yet, in a tone that provoked 
 a smile, "My church seems to be greatly stirred 
 down." 
 
 While not an expert in managing his prayer- 
 meetings, he always redeemed them from dullness 
 by the sprightliness and vigor of his talks. He 
 never made singing a prominent or specially inspiring 
 part of the service, and never could learn how to 
 induce his brethren to take public part in the exer- 
 cises. It was one of his faults as a pastor that he 
 did too much of the talking himself, but then he did 
 it so well that others preferred to be silent. 
 
PASTORAL CHARACTER. 345 
 
 I believe that it was his usual custom to preach on 
 funeral occasions. He said that he looked upon them 
 as intended for the living and not for the dead. He 
 rarely indulged in eulogies of deceased persons, 
 unless they were justly distinguished for the excel- 
 lence of their character and work. While in St. 
 Louis he was called to attend a funeral. He preached 
 as usual, and had very little to say of the deceased. 
 This gave the family mortal offence, and they never 
 forgave him for it. 
 
 His memory was deplorably weak as to individu- 
 als, and sometimes brought him into awkward and 
 trying situations. Soon after I came to the pastor- 
 ate of the Grace Street Church, a former member of 
 that church, who years before had left Richmond, 
 died, and her remains were brought back for inter- 
 ment. The body was deposited in the church, and 
 Dr. Jeter, as her old pastor, was engaged to attend 
 the funeral. Though, not invited to take any part 
 in the services, I was in my study adjoining the 
 pulpit. At the appointed time the friends assembled, 
 but the Doctor did not appear. A gentleman came 
 into the study to inquire after him, but I could give 
 no information. After waiting a few moments, it was 
 decided to send a messenger for him, and it was 
 found that he had entirely forgotten his engagement. 
 Soon after, he came racing up the stairway, groaning 
 and talking to himself, and without stopping to 
 knock, burst into the study. 
 
 " Dear me !" he exclaimed in tones of self-reproach 
 and despair. " What a wretch I am. It is just like 
 me. Who was she ? What was her name ? Did I 
 
346 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 ever know her ? Was she a member of the church ? 
 Do tell me something about her." 
 
 I had to confess that I could give him no light, but 
 mildly suggested to him that, as he was already a 
 half-hour behind time, he had better go in and begin 
 the service. I could not restrain my laughter, as I 
 observed the caution and uneasiness with which he 
 selected his Scriptures and made his prayers. Fin- 
 ally he took his text, and opening with the remark 
 that funerals were for the living and not for the 
 dead, he preached a sermon, full of unction and com- 
 fort. 
 
 Dr. Jeter did not consider that his pastoral obliga- 
 tions forbade his activity in other departments of 
 Christian work. I have spoken already of his valu- 
 able leadership in missionary and educational enter- 
 prises, and also of his readiness to assist his brother 
 pastors in their protracted meetings. Perhaps no 
 Baptist minister who ever lived in Richmond gave 
 so much of his time to Board meetings, Conventions 
 and Committee work as he did while yet a pastor. 
 It ought to be mentioned that his heaviest literary 
 work was performed during the time that he was 
 diligently engaged in the pastorate. 
 
 In the more personal and practical aspects of his 
 ministerial labors he was not the equal of Dr. James 
 B. Taylor. This can be said without reflecting upon 
 his efficiency, for Dr. Taylor had very few equals in 
 these respects. He was indefatigable in his visita- 
 tions and almost peerless in the skill with which he 
 managed his churches. 
 
 But taken all in all, Dr. Jeter was an excellent 
 
PASTORAL CHARACTER. 347 
 
 pastor. As a teacher, he was pre-eminent ; as a 
 counsellor, he was prudent, conservative and faith- 
 ful ; as a comforter, he was not demonstrative, but 
 considerate and hopeful ; and in his private life he 
 set before his people an example which they could 
 not follow without becoming wiser and better. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 ACHIEVEMENTS IN AUTHORSHIP. 
 
 IN contemplating Dr. Jeter in his literary sphere we 
 must remember that he was not a professional 
 author. Book-making was not his business. 
 From his entrance into the ministry he had upon 
 him a constant burden of evangelical, pastoral and 
 denominational work. His appointed tasks filled his 
 hands, absorbed his time and consumed his energies. 
 He was an utter stranger to that grateful sense of 
 independence and literary ease which is the happiest 
 fortune of an author. He could never devote his 
 freshest moments and his well-rested powers to liter- 
 ature. It requires genius and happy surroundings to 
 enable a man to attain the highest results. We need 
 not wonder that men like Washington Irving and 
 Ruskin, who, to brilliant gifts and ripened learning, 
 added the best outward condition, should achieve 
 abiding distinction in the realm of literature. They 
 had freedom from care, time for research, access to 
 libraries and ample opportunities for travel. There 
 was nothing to hinder, and much to help them. 
 
 It is not too much to claim that if Dr. Jeter, with 
 
 his strong gifts and patient devotion to study, had 
 
 been reared in a literary atmosphere and favored 
 
 with leisure and means for travel and research, he 
 
 348 
 
ACHIEVEMENTS IN AUTHORSHIP. 349 
 
 would have attained the highest celebrity as an 
 author. 
 
 As it was, the production of books was entirely 
 incidental with him. What he gave to the public 
 was written at the odds and ends of time — in mo- 
 ments snatched from routine cares, and always in the 
 midst of trying interruptions. The bulk of his labor 
 in the literary line was performed at night, and at 
 the end of days which had been crowded with toil 
 and worry. For the man who has three sermons a 
 week to produce, various religious services to con- 
 duct, pastoral calls to make, funerals and marriages 
 to attend, company, congenial and sometimes very 
 otherwise, to entertain, daily tides of letters to read 
 and to answer, with Board meetings, ecclesiastical 
 councils, committees, ordinations and numberless 
 outside engagements ever pressing upon him, some 
 allowance ought, in common fairness, to be made 
 when he undertakes to write a book. 
 
 Praises, many and well-merited, have been ac- 
 corded to Lord Macaulay, who turned from London 
 society, of which he was a central light, and from 
 the House of Commons, at the crowning point of his 
 popularity, that he might give himself wholly to his 
 literary labors. A richer meed of commendation is 
 due to him who, while unable to escape from his daily 
 duties or to retire from social life, yet, with his frag- 
 ments of time, could perform honorable service in the 
 field of literature. Dr. Jeter's books are the produc- 
 tions of an overworked man. 
 
 At the present day many devices have been in- 
 vented for lightening the drudgeries of literary men. 
 
350 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 The type-writer, the stenographer and the amanu- 
 ensis often play their valuable but unrecognized 
 parts in the author's life. A popular American 
 preacher of the present day thrills his audiences 
 every Sunday with illustrations which are selected 
 for him by his literary drudge. A famous preacher 
 beyond the sea, has surprised the world by the num- 
 ber and varied learning of his books, and yet it is an 
 open secret that the most learned portions of his 
 works are the gatherings of other men. Dr. Jeter 
 never caught the art of utilizing other men in his 
 literary labors. He did his own work. All of his 
 books were the products of his own pen, and largely 
 the outcome of unaided research. * 
 
 Another fact ought to be put into the account. 
 Dr. Jeter was not animated by the hope either of 
 fame or fortune in his authorial efforts. For some of 
 his books he never received one dollar of compensa- 
 tion, and his " Memoir of Witt " was published at his 
 own expense, and as a tribute of affection to the most 
 beloved friend of his life. His biographical works 
 were undertaken either at the solicitation of others 
 or as grateful attempts to embalm the memory of 
 those who had won distinction in the service of his 
 Master. His two books on Campbellism were writ- 
 ten in response to a public call, and while they cost 
 him vast and painstaking investigation, added noth- 
 ing to his fortune. 
 
 It is proposed in this chapter to make a survey of 
 his literary career. It will contain a brief sketch of 
 his more extended publications. This does not 
 promise any great entertainment to the reader ; in- 
 
ACHIEVEMENTS IN AUTHORSHIP. 351 
 
 deed, it hints at something decidedly dry. But I hope 
 that the barrenness of the account may be partially 
 relieved by specimen extracts from the several works 
 that will be brought under review. 
 
 *c' 
 
 "Memoir of Abner W. Clopton." 
 
 This was Dr. Jeter's first attempt at authorship. 
 It appeared in 1837, and was published by Yale & 
 Wyatt, of Richmond, Va. It was a small book, 
 neatly printed, cheaply gotten up and contained 283 
 pages. Much of the material is taken from the jour- 
 nal, letters and addresses of Mr. Clopton. Perhaps 
 one-third of the matter is original. It was written 
 when Dr. Jeter was yet under thirty-five years of 
 age, and yet the style of its composition is admirable. 
 In the beauty of its. diction, the structure of its sen- 
 tences, the fervor of its spirit and the grasp of its 
 thought it compares favorably with his subsequent 
 productions. 
 
 Why he wrote this memoir is not known. As it 
 contains no preface, we are left without any clue to 
 the reasons which led to its preparation. It is known 
 that he was an ardent admirer of Mr. Clopton, and 
 often said that he was the most godly man that he 
 ever knew. By birth Mr. Clopton was a Virginian, 
 and while he spent his life in a rural pastorate, he 
 distinguished himself greatly as a temperance re- 
 former, a controversialist, a champion of higher edu- 
 cation, an advocate of missions and an evangelist. 
 He died in the prime of life, and his departure was 
 lamented as a sad calamity to the denomination. 
 
 The book did not succeed. This may have been 
 
352 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.T). 
 
 due in part to the youthfulness of the author, the 
 limited reputation of the subject, or to that indiffer- 
 ence to biographical works which seems to be so 
 wide-spread and incurable. 
 
 Mr. Sands suggests quite a different explanation 
 of the failure of this really thrilling little book to 
 secure the favor of the public. He says that it was 
 " due to the fact, that its publishers were on the 
 verge of insolvency when they undertook the publi- 
 cation, and the Memoir had scarcely been published 
 before the crash came. Notwithstanding this seri- 
 ous blow, the book had some circulation." We close 
 this comment with this extract : 
 
 We are naturally led to inquire by what habits did Mr. Clop- 
 ton attain to such distinction and usefulness ? He was not less 
 remarkable for the peculiarity and steadiness of his habits than 
 for the excellence of his moral character. He always, when in 
 health, rose early, generally before day. He retired immediately 
 to read, meditate and pray. He read three chapters in the Bible 
 — two in the Old Testament and one in the New ; generally a 
 sermon in Dwight's Theology, or some other approved author, or 
 an equal amount in Scott's Commentary. He would then employ 
 half an hour, or an hour, in meditation and prayer. As he 
 resided in the country, he usually retired to some unfrequented 
 and retired grove, where he might hold uninterrupted communion 
 with his God. Here, in imitation of his Master, he would " offer 
 up prayers and supplications with strong crying and tears." 
 Sometimes he would become so deeply affected by divine things, 
 and his mind would be so entirely absorbed in the exercise of 
 prayer, that his voice might be heard a distance of four hundred 
 paces w T hcn he was unconscious of speaking above his breath. A 
 very deep impression was made on the minds of many by the 
 solemn and earnest tones of his suppliant voice, in the distant 
 and solitary woodland. It seemed as if, indeed, a worm of earth 
 was in audience with the majesty of the universe. After the 
 
ACHIEVEMENTS IN AUTHORSHIP. 353 
 
 close of his secret devotion he would return to his room to make 
 preparation for family worship and breakfast. He was plain, but 
 remarkably neat and particular in his dress and personal appear- 
 ance. In the family in which he resided, and in the numerous 
 families which he visited, he usually led in the stated devotions. 
 He would read a chapter in the Bible, offer a brief comment or 
 make a pointed exhortation to saints and sinners, sing a few 
 verses, and offer a short, comprehensive, appropriate and most 
 fervent prayer. So soon as he had eaten a temperate meal he 
 would commence the labors of the day. Every moment was 
 usefully employed. No man understood better than he did the 
 art of redeeming time. If he remained at home he was employed 
 in reading, writing, and arranging with great exactness his 
 numerous concerns. If he had an appointment to preach, he 
 would ride sometimes twenty miles to reach it, deliver a sermon 
 of an hour's length, form, if necessary and practicable, a tract, 
 temperance or missionary society, ride again several miles to 
 dinner, present a subscription for some benevolent object to the 
 family, discuss the merits of the temperance reform, have a con- 
 versation with every accessible person on the subject of religion, 
 engage in social prayer, and then ride many miles to attend a 
 night meeting, or be near his next appointment. Nor did he 
 forget to retire for evening devotion. I have not detailed the 
 extraordinary efforts of a single day, but the common course of 
 his life. Every day, when he enjoyed health, he was employed 
 in labors not less diligent and useful. His habits were almost 
 immovably fixed. The inclemency of the weather, the pleasures 
 of society, which he greatly relished, fatigue, languor, and the 
 seductions to relaxation and rest, rarely, if ever, preventer! his 
 withdrawment for secret prayer. How highly he prized TJiese 
 seasons of devotion we may learn from the following brief extract 
 from his journal : " I never neglect my secret devotion (without 
 absolute necessity) but I certainly experience great loss. My 
 bosom seems more exposed to the incursions of the enemy, my 
 resolutions and purposes fail, and I suffer my soul to be stained 
 by evil thoughts — perhaps by evil desires. Oh, how much need 
 I have of the injunction of my blessed Lord: 'Watch and pray, 
 that ye enter not into temptation ! ' " 
 
 23 
 
354 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 Mr. Clopton was remarkably absteminous in his diet, rarely 
 eating a hearty meal, and when slightly indisposed, restricting 
 himself to a very small allowance. He fasted religiously, during 
 the latter part of his life, on every Monday, and often through 
 the whole day. In March, 1831, he entered the following on his 
 journal : " I have come to the resolution, humbly and in the fear 
 of the Lord, that I will fast more frequently and pray more fre- 
 quently. I have lost much by neglecting to fast." It was from 
 this period, I presume, that he adopted the practice of fasting 
 weekly. 
 
 " Life of Henrietta Hall Shuck." 
 
 By far the most thrilling and fascinating biogra- 
 phy that Dr. Jeter ever wrote was his " Life of Mrs. 
 Henrietta Shuck." As a wise critic has aptly said, 
 " the theme and the author exactly suited." Mrs. 
 Shuck was the daughter of Rev. Addison Hall, one 
 of the noblest friends that Dr. Jeter ever had. He 
 baptized her in her girlhood and when she went out 
 as a missionary to China, he watched her career with 
 a fond paternal pride. On the foreign field, she ex- 
 hibited the highest Christian heroism and her name 
 became a household word among the American Bap- 
 tists. She died at her post in the meridian of her 
 life and in the midst of her usefulness. A halo of 
 peculiar sanctity and glory encircled her name, and 
 it was with a full heart, and a high hope of useful- 
 ness that Dr. Jeter undertook to trace the story of 
 her life. 
 
 The book was published in 1845. It was Dr. Je- 
 ter's masterpiece — a gem of personal history, radiant 
 with the beauty of its subject and polished to the 
 last point of brilliancy by the touch of his graceful 
 and cunning hand. It is a book, too noble in its 
 
ACHIEVEMENTS IN AUTHORSHIP. 355 
 
 theme and too complete in its workmanship to be al- 
 lowed to pass out of existence. Here is the portrait 
 of this heroine : 
 
 In person, Mrs. Shuck was below the ordinary stature, in the 
 highest health weighing but little more than one hundred pound?, 
 and frequently much less. Her frame was delicate, and her con- 
 stitution fragile. With dark complexion, dark and piercing 
 eyes and symmetrical features, she was somewhat handsome. 
 Her temperament was ardent, and her spirits naturally elastic, 
 cheerful and gay. For nothing, perhaps, was she so much dis- 
 tinguished as the affectionateness of her disposition. She was a 
 lady of large heart. Never have we known a more devoted 
 daughter, a more faithful sister or a more sympathizing friend. 
 She always won the hearts of her associates. Her teachers, class- 
 mates and acquaintances all loved her. She cheerfully paid the 
 price of friendship ; gained friends by showing herself friendly. 
 
 Mrs. Shuck possessed not a brilliant, but good intellect. She 
 was not endowed with genius, but with a well-balanced mind. 
 Among her mental qualities, quickness of apprehension was the 
 most remarkable. Her intellectual efforts seem never to have 
 cost her any labor. When her mind was set in motion, her 
 thoughts and words flowed spontaneously, and as long as she 
 had use for them. Her letters were evidently penned with rap- 
 idity and without one moment's premeditation. As illustrative 
 of the quickness of her mental operations, we may mention the 
 following case. On one occasion her husband complained of 
 weariness and an incapacity to prepare for a pulpit service which 
 he was engaged to perform. She playfully proposed to compose 
 a sermon for him. Without a minute's delay, she took a sheet 
 of paper and her pencil, and having selected for the text these 
 words : " I pray thee have me excused," began the sermon as 
 follows : " Numerous as are the excuses which sinners make, 
 when urged to embrace the gospel, they may all be reduced to 
 three. The first is that they have no time to attend to religion, 
 the second is that they do not know how to become religious, 
 and the third is that they are not able to become so. Want of 
 time, want of knowledge or want of power is pleaded by all. 
 
356 L^E OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 Foreseeing that they would make these excuses, God determined 
 that they should have no reason to make them. By giving them 
 the Sabbath, He has allowed them time for religion ; by giving 
 them His word and messengers to explain it, he has taken away 
 their excuse of ignorance, and by offering them the assistance of 
 His Holy Spirit, He has deprived them of the pretence of inabil- 
 ity ; and thus He has obviated all their excuses, and at the last 
 day every mouth will be stopped, and the whole world stand 
 guilty before God." 
 
 The above is a literal extract from Mrs. Shuck's notes in pen- 
 cil-mark. She continued her remarks through several pages, but 
 in such a style as to show clearly that she did not excel in writing 
 sermons. We know not how much, or whether at all, she was 
 aided by her memory in preparing the above synopsis of her 
 sermon ; but we are quite sure that we have heard sermons from 
 preachers of reputation whose notes could not lay claim to origin- 
 ality, simplicity and adaptation to usefulness, as those of Mrs. 
 Shuck. 
 
 Mrs. Shuck's literary attainments were highly respectable. It 
 should be remembered that she died at an age at which most 
 writers do not begin to distinguish themselves. In her letters 
 published in the memoir, the compiler felt at liberty to correct 
 only such errors as were obviously the result of haste or negli- 
 gence. They are mostly published just as they came from her 
 swift-moving pen. 
 
 Mrs. Shuck was eminently a religious woman. All her letters, 
 her journals and her most familiar and ordinary notes breathe a 
 pious spirit. Religion exercised a controlling influence over her 
 life. In all events, whether prosperous or adverse, she saw and 
 acknowledged the hand of Jehovah. Whether she ate or drank, 
 or whatsoever she did, all was done for the glory of God. One 
 who had witnessed in the beginning of her Christian life the fer- 
 vency of her zeal and the predominance always accorded by her 
 to religious duties and interests, would have been ready, even in 
 the absence of consciousness, to pronounce her enthusiastic and 
 to anticipate a great change in her spirit and deportment after 
 the effervescence of youth and the short-lived ardor of her novi- 
 tiate had passed away. But he would have been utterly mis- 
 
ACHIEVEMENTS IN AUTHORSHIP. 357 
 
 taken. The flame of her zeal was fed by oil which an invisible 
 hand had furnished. Let the candid reader contemplate her 
 through years of exhausting and uncomplaining toil, in suffer- 
 ings various and acute, without murmuring or despondency, sev- 
 eral times in the near pi'ospect of death, not only without terror, 
 but buoyant with hope and full of joy, always cheerful, devout 
 and seeking to glorify God and decide whether her religion was 
 not more than form and ceremony, the romance of youth and 
 the impulse of a transient excitement. Her religion was one of 
 principle. It subordinated all her powers, time and influence to 
 the divine will and glory. 
 
 There was in the religious character of Mrs. Shuck a striking 
 and beautiful symmetry. In her character there was a happy 
 combination of knowledge, feeling and activity. Her knowledge 
 did not degenerate into fruitless speculation, her feeling into wild 
 enthusiasm, nor her activity into misdirected adventures. She 
 was zealous; but her zeal was tempered with discretion. She 
 was devout; but her devotion was the offspring of knowledge. 
 She was useful ; but her usefulness was coupled with humility. 
 Whether we contemplate her as a lady gracing the social circle, 
 as a mother sedulously training her children for heaven, as a 
 Christian meekly and faithfully copying the bright example of 
 her Saviour, or as a missionary, laboriously fulfilling the duties 
 of her important station, we cannot but approve and admire her 
 character. But her career was brief and bright, her end peace- 
 ful, and her reward, we doubt not, glorious. The Lord took her 
 before the noon-tide of her influence and usefulness, and we 
 humbly submit. " Shall not the Judge of all the earth do 
 right?" 
 
 " Writings of Andrew Broaddus, with a Memoir 
 by J. B. Jeter, D.D." 
 
 This was published by Lewis Colby, of New York, 
 and had upon it the imprint of the Virginia Baptist 
 Sunday-School and Publishing Society. It appeared 
 in 1850 and contained five hundred and fifty-seven 
 pages. It seems that Dr. Jeter really had nothing 
 
358 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 to do in the production of this book except the prep- 
 aration of the memoir. The bulk of the material 
 consists in selections from the waitings of Mr. Broad- 
 dus and these were collected and edited by his son, 
 Rev. Andrew Broaddus, Jr. 
 
 The editor did his work remarkably well, though 
 it is not forgotten that he incurred severe, though 
 unmerited, criticism for what was then regarded as 
 undue liberty in eulogizing his distinguished father. 
 
 Candor forbids my speaking in terms of undivided 
 commendation of Dr. Jeter's part in this work. It 
 is not well done — not so well as he could do and did 
 do in his other biographical works. He had truly 
 an imperial subject. Andrew Broaddus stands to- 
 day as he stood then, peerless and unapproachable 
 in the lists of Virginia Baptist preachers. He was a 
 man of kingly form, surpassingly brilliant genius 
 and of the very loftiest type of oratory. With only 
 nine months of school life and with other serious 
 drawbacks, he rose to the highest distinction and his 
 name is indissolubly associated with Baptist history. 
 I agree fully with Mr. Sands that with such a topic 
 Dr. Jeter, then at the high tide of his power, ought to 
 have produced a nobler memoir, and Mr. Broaddus, 
 as Mr. Sands suggests, deserves a biographer who 
 will present him to the world in all the splendor of 
 his powers and the glory of his fame. 
 
 Several things must be said on Dr. Jeter's side. 
 This book was published in 1850, just after his re- 
 moval to St. Louis, and it is probable that his sketch 
 was prepared in the midst of the confusion incident 
 to that trying change in his life. His work was done 
 
ACHIEVEMENTS IN AUTHORSHIP. 359 
 
 upon short notice, and without an opportunity for 
 collecting material, and maturely finishing the story. 
 Besides it must be said that the limits of the work 
 gave him but narrow scope. His sketch covers only 
 sixty-five pages, and is all condensed into a single 
 chapter. It attempts nothing, except a simple re- 
 cital of the leading facts, in a not very eventful life 
 and an outline of the character of Mr. Broaddus. 
 His picture of the great preacher is drawn with a 
 strong and faithful pen. 
 
 '•' Such, imperfectly sketched, it is true, were the sermons of 
 Andrew Broaddus ; but how can we give any conception of his 
 manner of preaching? We can no more give an adequate idea 
 of eloquence by description, than of lightning by painting. We 
 first enjoyed the pleasure of hearing him in 1823. He was then 
 in the meridian of his glory. We had heard his fame, and were 
 anxious to have an opportunity of judging whether rumor had 
 done him justice. We were prepared to hear an eloquent and 
 mighty preacher ; but all our anticipations were more than real- 
 ized. We had formed no adequate conception of his power to 
 interest and instruct his hearers. We could but exclaim with 
 the astonished Queen of Sheba, when she saw the wisdom and 
 glory of Solomon : " It is a true report that I heard in mine own 
 land, and, behold, the half was not told me." This early im- 
 pression of his abilities was sustained by an intimate and long- 
 continued acquaintance with him, at a period when our judgment, 
 being more matured, was less likely to mislead us. 
 
 His fine person increased the effect of his discourses ; it was 
 formed to command respect. His countenance was radiant with 
 intelligence, and his clear, speaking eyes seemed to penetrate 
 the souls of his hearers. His sermons were generally delivered 
 with great pathos — with a holy unction. His heart was in his 
 subject; its truth, importance and solemnity were deeply im- 
 pressed upon it. His manner of speaking, however, was far 
 enough from declamation. He commenced his sermons in the 
 
360 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 most easy, artless and unpretending way, inspiring no high- 
 wrought expectation ; but suddenly some brilliant thought, or 
 some melting touch, would make the hearer feel that he was in 
 the presence of a master. His voice, before it was shattered by 
 age, was clear, flexible, euphonious, under perfect control, but 
 never strong and commanding. His eloquence resembled not 
 the mountain torrent, bold, resistless and majestic ; but the 
 champaign stream, gentle, beautiful and refreshing. His ges- 
 tures were easy, natural and graceful, giving impression to all 
 his utterances. His chief excellence as a public speaker lay in 
 his action. In some of his gestures there was a significance and 
 power which were inimitable. 
 
 Were we required to describe the power of his oratory by a 
 single term, that term should be fascination. There was, in his 
 happy efforts, a most captivating charm. An incident may best 
 illustrate this remark : More than twenty years ago, while in the 
 zenith of his power and popularity, he attended a session of the 
 Baptist General Association, held in the town of L . Mon- 
 day morning he preached in the Methodist Church, to a crowded 
 audience. Mr. D., a lawyer of distinction, on his Avay to the 
 court-house, where the court was in session, stopped in the street, 
 beneath the fierce rays of a summer sun, to listen for a moment 
 to the sermon. Business urged his departure, but having heard 
 the commencement of a paragraph, he was intensely anxious to 
 hear its close. Intending every moment to break away, he be- 
 came more and more chained to the spot. Presently he heard 
 his name called by the sheriff at the court-house door, and he 
 soon heard the call repeated ; but it was to no purpose — he was 
 riveted to the spot. Neither the fatigue of standing, the melting 
 rays of the sun, the urgency of business nor the repeated calls of 
 the officer of the court could disenchant him. He heard the 
 whole of the sermon, and paid unwittingly the highest compli- 
 ment to the eloquence of the preacher. We remember a similar 
 incident : A minister, whose thoughts were absorbed in a subject 
 deeply affecting his happiness, heard him preach, and at the 
 close of the sermon was aroused from the spell in which he had 
 been bound, amazed that his thoughts had been so long and so 
 perfectly diverted. 
 
ACHIEVEMENTS IN AUTHORSHIP. 361 
 
 Great as he undoubtedly was, he had some rather striking 
 defects in his preaching. He was fastidious. He rarely lost 
 himself in his subject. He did not forget to pay attention to 
 precision, and all the graces of composition. He frequently 
 wasted time on subordinate points, and in preparatory remarks. 
 An incident will best illustrate our meaning : In his neighborhood 
 resided an old and pious, but somwhat eccentric brother, 
 known as " Father Schools " — a man remarkable for the bluntness 
 of his remarks. He was a great admirer of Mr. Broaddus' 
 preaching. On one occasion, after listening to his sermon, he 
 said to him, " You were so long to-day setting the table, and 
 fixing the plates and knives and forks, that we got tired waiting 
 for the dinner." Elder Broaddus was very easily disconcerted 
 in preaching. If the weather was too hot or too cold ; the pulpit 
 too high or too low ; or if the congregation was not arranged to 
 his taste, he was greatly embarrassed. On a certain occasion he 
 had an appointment to preach at a private house. The congre- 
 gation was seated ; a table, with books, had been set for him ; the 
 hour for preaching had arrived. He stepped to the table, and, 
 carefully measuring its height, said : " Brother B., this table is 
 too low; can't you lay something on it?" It was not easy at the 
 moment to find something suited to the purpose ; but, after some 
 delay, a box was brought and placed on the table. Its height 
 was again nicely measured, and the preacher said : " Brother B., 
 this box is too high ; can't you find something of a medium 
 height?" By this time the congregation was in a titter, and 
 Brother B. greatly confused. It was, however, of no small im- 
 portance that the table should be of the proper height, for it was 
 vain to expect a good sermon if it was too high or too low. 
 
 Owing to his nervous sensibility, he was peculiarly liable, es- 
 pecially on great occasions, or before intelligent strangers, to fail 
 in preaching. His failures, however, were generally well worth 
 hearing. They were wanting in vivacity, illustration and color- 
 ing, but they exhibited the outlines of well-arranged and valuable 
 sermons. We remember one of his failures. He was appointed, 
 with two other ministers, to preach at the Dover Association, in 
 Matthews County, on Lord's Day. The congregation was large ; 
 and, as usual on such occasions, seated under an arbor ; but the 
 
362 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 weather was extremely unpropitious. Mr. Broaddus positively 
 refused to preach. The first sermon was delivered early, and was 
 not well heard. The second sermon was an almost entire failure, 
 and soon over. Aroused by an unwillingness to permit so large 
 and respectful a congregation to disperse without instruction, Mr. 
 Broaddus suddenly resolved to preach. He commenced with a 
 long apology — a practice for which, in violation of good taste, he 
 was quite remarkable. He read his text — it was a theme just suited 
 to his talents. His exordium was fine, and his arrangement was 
 natural and striking. Never did a commencement promise a 
 richer sermon. The congregation was all eyes and ears. The 
 speaker gave us some of his finest flights, but soon his pinions 
 began to fail. He stopped suddenly, saying : " Brethren, I find 
 I am not in such good preaching case as I thought I was." After 
 a few ineffectual struggles, he quietly resumed his seat. Of that 
 vast congregation, there was but one person who enjoyed the 
 failure — it was the unfortunate preacher who had preceded Mr. 
 Broaddus, and who, painfully mortified by his own failure, found 
 some consolation in having so distinguished a companion in 
 misery. 
 
 In order that our readers may have a still clearer conception 
 of the preaching of the subject of this memoir, we will compare 
 it with that of Semple, Rice and Staughton. Semple was a 
 sound, practical preacher ; anxious mainly for the results of his 
 ministry, he was careless in his manner, bungling in his style 
 and frequently loose in his arrangements. Rice possessed a mas- 
 culine intellect, and sometimes preached with great power and 
 sublimity ; but his migratory manner of living precluded the 
 possibility of a careful preparation for the pulpit, and, conse- 
 quently, his sermons were, for the most part, dry, tame, and 
 greatly wanting in variety. He possessed the unimproved, or, 
 perhaps, more properly, the unemployed elements of a mighty 
 preacher. Staughton, judging from his reputation, for we never 
 enjoyed the pleasure of hearing him, was fervent, rapid in de- 
 livery, abounding in excellent matter, not well digested nor well 
 arranged. Now, Broaddus was, as a preacher, less practical than 
 Semple, less sublime than Rice, and less impassioned than Staugh- 
 ton ; but he was more methodical, more accurate, more elegant, 
 
ACHIEVEMENTS IN AUTHORSHIP. 363 
 
 more attractive, and far more safe as an expositor of Scripture, than 
 any one of them. They all excelled in certain strongly developed 
 qualities, which rendered them eminent and acceptable preachers ; 
 but Broaddus possessed a combination of noble qualities, a well- 
 balanced and richly furnished intellect, with all the personal en- 
 dowments requisite for the most pleasing delivery of his sermons. 
 We have enjoyed frequent opportunities of hearing many of the 
 best preachers of most of the evangelical denominations of this 
 country, and occasionally some of the distinguished ministers of 
 Great Britain, and we can confidently say, that in his happiest 
 efforts, none of them equaled him in the exposition of the Scrip- 
 tures. Excelled he might have been, and perhaps was, in sub- 
 limity of thought, strength of language and studied accuracy of 
 method ; but in clearness, aptness of illustration, spontaneous 
 beauty, touching pathos and Scriptural instruction, he had no 
 superior. 
 
 Many years ago, in a sermon at the Dover Association, he pro- 
 duced a thrilling effect, by comparing the departed ministers of 
 the Association to a band of musicians. Ford, Noell, Lunsford, 
 Staughton, Toler, Courtney and others were skillfully arranged 
 in the band, according to their various gifts : one sounded the 
 silver trumpet, another played on the viol, a third on the bassoon 
 and so on. They made fine music. Their enrapturing notes 
 were all in harmony, and Jesus was the subject of their song ; 
 but now their instruments were untuned and thrown aside. Such 
 is an imperfect sketch of the vision which Mr. Broaddus caused 
 to pass vividly before the minds of his hearers. The reminis- 
 cences awoke the sympathies of the old brethren. They had 
 listened to the stirring strains of these venerated musicians of a 
 past age, and derived an impulse and an inspiration from them 
 which they could never cease to feel. Their eyes brightened, 
 and then their faces were suffused in tears ; and all the congrega- 
 tion felt in unison with them. Had Mr. Broaddus himself been 
 assigned a place in the band, his appropriate instrument would 
 have been the flute. Others might sound the shrill notes of the 
 clarion, or draw with skillful hand from the violin's rich and 
 varied notes ; but he, with more than mortal inspiration, from 
 his favorite instrument, would have poured forth tones of softest, 
 
364 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 sweetest melody. But now his instrument is laid aside, and none 
 is found, with equal skill, to call forth its celestial notes ! But 
 these worthies are furnished in Heaven with better instruments : 
 
 " Strung and tuned for endless years, 
 And formed by power Divine." 
 
 With these they celebrate in " sweeter, nobler strains," the 
 glories of that Redeemer whom on earth they loved, adored and 
 praised, and by whose grace they triumphed over sin, death and 
 hell. 
 
 " Campbellism Examined." 
 
 This book was given to the public in 1855. It 
 ranks all his publications in size, ability and influ- 
 ence. The time at which it appeared, the popular 
 interest in the subject of which it treated, the labored 
 attempts made to break its force and the furious 
 attacks made upon its author by his opponents, com- 
 bined to enhance its circulation. While I cannot 
 give the number of volumes actually sold, it is well 
 known that it was extensively read by representative 
 men, and was also popular with the masses. 
 
 It may be well to explain to the younger readers 
 how it came to pass that Dr. Jeter, so averse to 
 religious controversy and so conciliatory in his 
 temper, joined battle with Alexander Campbell. 
 Mr. Campbell was a Scotchman, and belonged origi- 
 nally to one of the straitest sects of Presbyterians. 
 He was educated at the University of. Glasgow, and 
 was a man of varied gifts and of a peculiar type of 
 magnetism. He was remarkable, more for the activ- 
 ity than for the clearness of his mind, and far more 
 for the diversity, than for the accuracy of his knowl- 
 edge. Reared among the Scotch Seceders, he seemed 
 
ACHIEVEMENTS IN AUTHORSHIP. 365 
 
 to have the essence of discontent and revolt in his 
 constitution. In early life he broke from the Pres- 
 byterian ranks and became a Baptist — in name at 
 least. He gained a pleasing notoriety by his con- 
 troversy on Baptism with a Mr. McCalla, a Presby- 
 terian minister, and his advent into the Baptist fold 
 was hailed with pleasure. He won brief distinction 
 among his newly-found brethren by his showy oratory, 
 his adroitness as a debater and his slashing and de- 
 nunciatory style as a writer. It was soon found, 
 however, that he was reckless in his statements, con- 
 tradictory in his arguments, uncertain in his theology 
 and happy only when seeking to uproot the existing 
 order of things. His gift for destroying far exceeded 
 his ability to construct. Insidiously and persistently 
 he sowed the seeds of discord among the Baptists 
 until many ministers were disaffected, and not a few 
 of the churches were racked with dissension. Noisy 
 and unsettled people were crying for reformation. 
 The Baptist camp was thrown into disorder. Efforts 
 to eliminate the restless and jarring elements were 
 only partially successful. 
 
 In this crisis of affairs it was generally felt that 
 some more formal and elaborate measures ought to 
 be adopted for counteracting the baleful and disinte- 
 grating influence of Mr. Campbell. In 1852 a num- 
 ber of well-known men in various portions of the 
 country, becoming deeply impressed with the import- 
 ance of a succinct and popular treatise upon the 
 distinctive phases of Campbellism, requested Dr. 
 Jeter to prepare a work of the character described. 
 Among the signers of the petition appear the names 
 
366 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 of M. B. Anderson; Heman Lincoln, S. S. Cutting. 
 Edward Lathrop, Geo. W. Samson, A. D. Gillette, S. 
 F. Smith and others. The appeal made mention of 
 the clearness of thought, justice of view and candor 
 of spirit which had marked the Doctor's discussion 
 of Campbellism in his " Memoir of Broaddus." It 
 might have been added that he had known Mr. 
 Campbell intimately for a quarter of a century, and 
 was conversant with his temper, tactics, mental pe- 
 culiarities and doctrines, so far as he had any. Dr. 
 Jeter, after due consideration, undertook the work in 
 a spirit which is sufficiently indicated by the follow- 
 ing extract from the preface to his book : 
 
 The term " Campbellism " is used in this treatise, not as a term 
 of reproach, but of distinction. No other word denotes the 
 system which it is proposed to examine. Mr. Alexander Camp- 
 bell, of Bethany, Virginia, and the party embracing his views, 
 have assumed several appellations. They have styled themselves 
 " Reformers," " Christians " and "Disciples." Without discuss- 
 ing their exclusive claim to these titles, it is clear that from 
 neither of them can any term be derived which will fairly dis- 
 tinguish their system of doctrine. The word " Reformation " has 
 been appropriated, by common consent to denote that great moral 
 revolution, of which Luther and Calvin were the prime agents. 
 The term " Christianity" can never be wrested from its universally 
 established import, to express the views of any sect or party, 
 however good, wise or great. From the word " Disciple," indefi- 
 nite as an appellative, no term can be derived to signify the 
 views of those who adopt the name. Mr. Campbell claims to 
 have discovered the "Ancient Gospel." Without at this time 
 conceding or denying the equity of his claim, it may be observed 
 that the inquiries now to be made have reference not to the 
 "Ancient Gospel," recorded in the writings of the evangelists 
 and apostles, but to the speculations of Mr. Campbell, contained 
 in his voluminous works concerning this gospel, and which have 
 been received as true by the friends of the "Current Reforma- 
 
ACHIEVEMENTS IN AUTHORSHIP. 36J 
 
 tion." To call these speculations the " Ancient Gospel " would 
 be a manifest misnomer. I am then under the necessity of em- 
 ploying some indefinite term, a tedious circumlocution, or the 
 word " Campbellism " to denote the system under discussion, and 
 the last course seems preferable. 
 
 This system is with great propriety termed " Campbellism." 
 Systems of philosophy, science and religion have usually been 
 designated after their discoverers, first promulgators, or most dis- 
 tinguished advocates. Mr. Campbell is the author, and most 
 eminent proclaimer of the peculiar doctrines, which, within the 
 last thirty years, have spread in the Southern and Western 
 States, uuder the title of "The Reformation.'' No other man 
 has added an article to the system, subtracted one from it, or 
 materially modified it. Many truths are taught by Mr. Camp- 
 bell in common with other Christians ; very few of the principles 
 for which he pleads are strictly new ; but having revived, modi- 
 fied, and placed in new combinations some antiquated sentiments, 
 and added to them a few original speculations, he is fairly enti- 
 tled to all the honor, and obnoxious to all the censure which his 
 system merits. 
 
 My purpose is to furnish a faithful delineation of the system — 
 its principles, spirit and influence — to censure the evil, and com- 
 mend the good. 
 
 Of my fitness for the task the reader will judge by the manner 
 of its execution. I have enjoyed very fair opportunities of 
 forming correct opinions of Mr. Campbell's system. I first saw 
 him in the year 1825. Since that time I have been a careful 
 observer of his course. I have watched the gradual development 
 of his principles, and marked their influence on the churches. I 
 have read most that has been published by him and his opponents 
 on the various points in debate. I have conversed much with 
 persons embracing and zealously supporting the " Reformation." 
 
 It is my purpose to conduct this investigation in the spirit of 
 candor and fairness, knowing that nothing can be gained to the 
 cause of truth and righteousness by sophistry, misrepresentation 
 and detraction. No sentence incompatible with the claims of 
 justice and Christian courtesy shall intentionally escape my pen ; 
 nor shall I withhold a frank and faithful expression of my 
 opinions on all points which I deem important. 
 
368 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 This work gave great offence to Mr. Campbell and 
 his friends, and they attacked it with an almost vin- 
 dictive fury. Through the columns of the Millennial 
 Harbinger, Mr. Campbell undertook to make a reply, 
 promising in the outset that he would speedily and 
 utterly refute its arguments. After publishing a 
 number of papers intended to upset the statements 
 and belittle the author of " Campbellism Examined," 
 he announced that he would make a more stately 
 reply in the shape of a book. That book never ap- 
 peared, though, curiously enough, an Introduction to 
 it appeared in the Harbinger, 
 
 After some delay, Dr. Jeter reviewed Mr. Camp- 
 bell's review of his book, in an extensive pamphlet, 
 entitled " Campbellism Re-examined." To this, Mr. 
 Campbell never deigned to make a reply ; but a 
 review of Dr. Jeter's two works was written by Mr. 
 Moses E. Lard, of Missouri, who came forth as Mr. 
 Campbell's substitute. Dr. Jeter said of Mr. Lard, 
 that he was more discriminating, more methodical, 
 more straightforward, more vigorous and more un- 
 disguised in his statements, but less adroit than 
 Mr. Campbell. Incomprehensibility was Mr. Camp- 
 bell's strong point ; but Mr. Lard wrote with a plain- 
 ness which it was hard to misunderstand. He set 
 forth Campbellism in its baldest and most offensive 
 shapes, and enabled the public to see clearly the 
 points of divergence between the Baptists and the 
 followers of Mr. Campbell. 
 
 Dr. Jeter declined to make any reply to Mr. Lard. 
 Having joined issue with the head of the Reforma- 
 tion, he did not care to deal with one of its } r outhful 
 
ACHIEVEMENTS IN AUTHORSHIP. 369 
 
 adherents. Mr. Lard's book was so bitter in its 
 personalities, and so harsh in its epithets, that Dr. 
 Jeter confessed that he could not cope with him in 
 the use of such weapons. 
 
 In 1860, Rev. A. P. Williams, of Missouri, a Bap- 
 tist minister of the most superior abilities, published 
 a book in answer to Mr. Lard. It was a masterly 
 production, and Dr. Jeter pronounced it, as beyond 
 all question, the strongest contribution ever made to 
 the great controversy. For this book of Mr. Wil- 
 liams, Dr. Jeter wrote an Introduction, which was 
 one of the brightest emanations of his pen, and 
 which I much regret a lack of space constrains me to 
 omit from these pages. 
 
 Dr. Jeter always took the kindliest views of the 
 so-called Reformation of Mr. Campbell. He admitted 
 that the Baptists had derived some benefit from the 
 agitation which Mr. Campbell had introduced, and 
 he was always ready to recognize whatever was 
 scriptural and wise in the system of the Reformers. 
 He felt, however, that what was true in Campbellism 
 was not new, and what was new was not true, and, 
 therefore, he held that Mr. Campbell's claims as a Re- 
 former were not well founded. He hoped that in 
 time his followers would lay aside their prejudices and 
 return to the Baptist fold. 
 
 Soon after the war a conference was held in Rich- 
 mond by leading representatives of the Baptists and 
 Reformers to see whether or not a reunion could be 
 effected. With this movement Dr. Jeter warmly 
 sympathized, and took a kindly part in the council. 
 It proved to be a failure. The points of disagree- 
 24 
 
370 LIFE 0F JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 ment were found to be too numerous and sharp to 
 admit of a peaceful and profitable coalescence. 
 
 I now present the following extract from his 
 " Recollections/' in which he gives his estimate of 
 him and of his last interview with him : 
 
 Mr. Campbell was a man of learning, of much miscellaneous 
 information, and of great readiness and fecundity of mind. His 
 learning, as already stated, was various rather than profound ; 
 and his imaginative far exceeded his rationative power. There 
 was, in my humble judgment, a screw loose in his mental 
 machinery, which became more obvious as he grew older, and 
 terminated in downright monomania. No writer, within my 
 knowledge, ever repeated his thoughts so frequently, wrote so 
 much that needed explanation, or so glaringly and often contra- 
 dicted himself, as he did. This is all explicable on the supposi- 
 tion that he labored under an idiosyncrasy which was gradually 
 developed into mental derangement. This supposition, too, vin- 
 dicates him in making statements which could hardly have been 
 made by a sound and well-balanced mind, without guilt. With 
 this ground of defence, I have no hesitation in expressing the 
 opinion that he was a good man. His life was devoted to an 
 earnest and fearless advocacy of principles which, in the main, 
 were right. The supreme and exclusive authority of the Scrip- 
 tures in religion, immersion the only baptism, and believers the 
 only subjects of the ordinance, and church independence, are 
 important doctrines which he held in common with Baptists, and 
 most solemnly defended. He wrote, too, many valuable articles 
 on matters of faith and practice, along, we must think, with 
 much that was visionary and erratic. With the exception of 
 statements easily traced to a disordered imagination, his life was 
 pure, and in perfect harmony with the principles he espoused and 
 spent his long life in defending. 
 
 The " Disciples " held a meeting in Richmond some twenty 
 years ago, and Mr. Campbell was present. I expressed to some 
 of his friends my readiness to call on him as a matter of courtesy, 
 if the call would be agreeable to him. Receiving the assurance 
 
ACHIEVEMENTS IN AUTHORSHIP. 37 1 
 
 that the courtesy would be accepted with pleasure, I visited him 
 at his lodgings, in company with Dr. J. L. Burrows. We were 
 received with civility, but with evident restraint. He was greatly 
 changed in appearance since I first saw him. He was increased 
 in flesh, but bore the unmistakable marks of old age and grow- 
 ing infirmities. I had resolved that I would not refer to our past 
 controversies, or to points concerning which we differed ; but 
 that, if he should introduce them, I would not plead on the 
 defensive. He very soon alluded to these matters. His views, 
 he said, had been misunderstood and misrepresented. He had 
 been treated with great injustice. To these complaints I made no 
 reply ; but proceeded at once to say that he had propagated one 
 doctrine which he owed it to himself, to his friends, and to the 
 Christian world to correct — it is that baptism and regeneration 
 in the Scriptures mean the same thiDg. On this subject our con- 
 versation turned. He did not retract the statement, but offered 
 such explanation of it as may be found in his voluminous writings. 
 It is, in substance, that baptism is not the whole, but the finish- 
 ing act of regeneration — that there can be no regeneration with- 
 out baptism. His explanation was as unsatisfactory to me as my 
 criticisms were to him. With this discussion we closed our inter- 
 view, with due courtesy without cordiality. 
 
 The influence of " Campbellisra Examined " in 
 Virginia was profound and abiding. It struck the 
 Reformation a blow from which it has never recov- 
 ered. The Disciples have not multiplied in Virginia 
 since that day, and those that survive are of the 
 conservative rather than the controversial type. 
 They are good people, but not numerous and not 
 likely to be. 
 
 That Campbellism has not fulfilled the expecta- 
 tion of its friends may be safely inferred if the testi- 
 mony of Mr. Moses E. Lard, one of its most partisan 
 adherents, may be relied on. Here is what he said 
 on that subject not long before he died : 
 
372 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 " We, as a religious body, have been before the public, with our 
 plea of union, for nearly half a century. We have offered Christ 
 and Him only as a personal ground of union ; we have offered 
 the Bible and it only as the book basis ; we have pithily said, 
 when it speaks we must speak, and when it is silent we must be 
 silent ; and what have we achieved in the way of union ? 
 
 Without replying specially to the question, we have certainly 
 achieved no large, and consequently no very satisfactory, results. 
 I will not say that our plea is a failure, but, up to the present, 
 it has resulted as most other pleas have — it has failed to effect 
 union. Have we united even the great family of immersionists ? 
 We have not." 
 
 " Life of Daniel Witt, D.D." 
 
 This was his last book, and he once said of it that 
 it really was his best, though he could not make 
 the people believe it. It was published in 187G, but 
 never enjoyed any extensive circulation, though this 
 was probably due in part to the fact that there were 
 no arrangements for pushing its sale. It contained 
 two hundred and seventy-six pages, and was largely 
 a compilation. The autobiography of Dr. Witt, one 
 of the most exquisitely beautiful stories ever writ- 
 ten, covers ninety pages, and extracts from his diary 
 and private letters occupy much of the space. 
 
 I do not agree with Dr. Jeter that this is his best 
 book. As a tribute to a life-long friend, it is very 
 charming ; but I suspect that the Doctor's desire to 
 avoid anything like gushing demonstrations gave a 
 tameness to his style which was unnatural and 
 robbed the story of a warmth which would have 
 colored it with a higher beauty. 
 
 But, after all, one cannot read the book without 
 a deepened reverence for Christian friendships or 
 
ACHIEVEMENTS IN AUTHORSHIP. 373 
 
 without feeling instinctively drawn to the venerable 
 author and his sainted subject. 
 
 I can spare space for only one paragraph clipped 
 from the chapter in which he paints the character 
 of his beloved : 
 
 Of all the active men whom I have known, Dr. Witt was the 
 most fau/tless. It is not difficult to find persons comparatively 
 hlameless. Their character is negative. Their nature is inert ; 
 their dispositions are flexible, and their convictions are shallow. 
 They give no offence, because they neither do nor attempt to do 
 anything in opposition to the views or wishes of their associates. 
 They create no ripple on the surface of society, because they 
 float with the current. Dr. Witt did not belong to this class of 
 men. He was an earnest and diligent worker. His love of 
 truth and righteousness was decided ; his hatred of sin and error 
 was deep and influential, and all his utterances and all his works 
 were controlled by these feelings. Proof on this point was fur- 
 nished by one of his dying remarks : " My life," he said, " has 
 given no uncertain sound. I have testified for Jesus. I have 
 loved all that is good, and I have tried to do good." He made 
 no compromises with evil, and shunned not to declare the whole 
 counsel of God; and yet so kind was his heart, so bland was his 
 manner and so unselfish was his aim that he rarely gave offence, 
 and when he did, the offended carried in their consciences the 
 evidence that he was right. His discretion was almost perfect. 
 Who ever saw him do an unrighteous or undignified deed, or 
 heard him utter an unkind, discourteous or impure word? He 
 could have confidently said with Paul: "I have wronged no 
 man ; I have corrupted no man ; I have defrauded no man." 
 (1 Cor. 7 : 2.) For fifty years I knew him as intimately as ever 
 one man knew another, and I have no recollection that he ever 
 did or said aught, or displayed any feelings, for which the most 
 rigid moralist could have reproved him. 
 
374 life of jeremiah b. jeter, d.d. 
 
 "The Christian Mirror." 
 
 This work appeared in 1858, and was published 
 by Sheldon, Lamport & Blakeman, of New York. 
 It contains about two hundred and fifty pages, has 
 an Introduction by Dr. A. M. Poindexter, and is 
 dedicated, in terms of great tenderness, to Dr. Dan- 
 iel Witt. 
 
 The plan of this volume is unique. It is a series 
 of lectures on the virtues and frailties of Christian 
 people, and each lecture is illustrated with a pen- 
 picture. For example, one of the lectures is devoted 
 to Doubting Christians, and Brother Thomas Little- 
 Faith is vividly drawn as a fair specimen of this 
 class. These lectures were first delivered in his 
 own pulpit, then published in a periodical, and af- 
 terwards brought out in book-form. 
 
 Each chapter contains a topical discussion and a 
 delineated character. The discussions are simple, 
 orderly and instructive. They are of an intensely 
 practical type, — so scriptural and devout that they 
 cannot be read without benefit. His portraits are 
 the work of his memory as well as of his imagina- 
 tion. The names of his characters are, of course, 
 fictitious, and he has shown decided vigor and taste 
 in grouping his incidents. But most of his charac- 
 ters are, in the main, historical. He throws into 
 print men whom he had seen playing their part in 
 real life. His pictures are drawn with a fidelity 
 which is tempered with a loving and charitable 
 spirit. Nothing written by Dr. Jeter more forcibly 
 illustrates his own character than these lectures. 
 
ACHIEVEMENTS IN AUTHORSHIP. 375 
 
 They show him as he was in his candor, discrimina- 
 tion and kindness of soul, blended with a manly 
 and earnest loyalty to the truth. This is a delight- 
 ful book. It is a pleasant and refreshing plea for 
 holiness. It is distinct in its defence of virtue and 
 right, and equally emphatic in condemning vices 
 and faults. For home reading and Sunday-school 
 libraries, this book is admirably adapted. It merits a 
 republication, and ought to have a permanent place 
 in Christian literature. Here is one of the pictures, 
 — not the best, but selected because of its brevity, 
 and taken from his lecture on timid Christians : 
 
 A Christian of this class, with -whom I am well acquainted 
 and whom I sincerely love, I will introduce to the congrega- 
 tion, — Brother Faint-heart. He is naturally amiable, and grace 
 has made him pious. It would be strange if he had many ene- 
 mies, for he is surely one of the most inoffensive of men. If he 
 had suspected that he had wounded the feelings of a brother in 
 the most innocent manner, it would cost him a sleepless night. 
 So guarded is he against inflicting pain that he would carefully 
 turn out of his path to avoid crushing a worm. Few men are 
 more esteemed and loved than he, and less likely to bring re- 
 proach on the cause of Christ. 
 
 Brother Faint-heart feels a deep interest in the prosperity of 
 the church of which he is a member, earnestly prays for it and 
 sincerely rejoices in all the good which others do, but makes 
 very little effort to be useful himself. The reason is this: he 
 sees insuperable difficulties and appalling dangers in every good 
 enterprise. He saith with the slothful man : " There is a lion 
 without ; I shall be slain in the streets." Propose to him any 
 scheme for promoting the welfare of the Church, extending the 
 knowledge of Christ or mitigating human misery, and he is 
 almost sure to be pleased with it. The object is good, the plan 
 to secure it is good, the agents to be employed are good ; but the 
 scheme he perceives or fancies is, from some cause, impractica- 
 
376 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 ble. Its friends will be few and lukewarm ; somebody's feelings 
 may be wounded by the enterprise or at least he is not satisfied 
 that everybody will approve it, and he would at present prefer 
 to have nothing to do with it. He is slow to engage in any 
 good work, tardy in executing it, and quickly faints at discour- 
 agement. 
 
 Brother Faint-heart is proverbial for having no mind of his 
 own. Not that he is incapable of judging, for he possesses an 
 intellect of rather more than ordinary clearness ; but he is afraid 
 to trust his own judgment. If he errs, he would greatly prefer 
 to lay the blame on the shoulders of another, than to bear it 
 himself. It might be reasonably supposed that he would look 
 around him for some leader on whose judgment he would repose 
 confidence, and whose authority might release him from the 
 painful necessity of forming opinions for himself. Such a leader 
 it was not difficult for him to find. Deacon Obstinate is a 
 prominent member of the church to which Faint-heart belongs. 
 In character they differ widely. Obstinate is self-confident, 
 bold, unyielding and overbearing ; has frequently points which 
 he is anxious to carry in the Church, and which he would carry 
 at any sacrifice, and is constantly seeking to attach to himself 
 and his plans such members of the Church as he can influence. 
 Brother Faint-heart was a suitable man for his purpose. He 
 visited him, talked much with him, and soon enjoyed the pleas- 
 ure of numbering him among his adherents. Faint-heart is a 
 man of more discernment and information than the Deacon ; but 
 what the latter lacks in judgment, he makes up in strength of 
 will. In order to know how Faint-heart will vote in any case, 
 it is necessary to watch the movements of Deacon Obstinate. 
 However unreasonable and perverse the course advocated by 
 the Deacon, he is sure to support it; or if his conscience — he has 
 a tender conscience — will not allow him to do so, he frames some 
 excuse for staying away from the church-meeting, that he may 
 give no offence to his friend. This subserviency of the brother 
 to the views of the headstrong Deacon would render him un- 
 popular, did the brethren not know his weakness and did he not 
 possess so many amiable and redeeming traits of character. 
 
 I have already intimated that Brother Faint-heart has few 
 
ACHIEVEMENTS IN AUTHORSHIP. 377 
 
 enemies. On one occasion, however, his want of courage involved 
 him in serious difficulties. In private conversation he had been 
 led into some severe but just remarks concerning a profession 
 not very reputable. A member of the profession, hearing of the 
 remarks, called on him in an angry tone, and, with menacing 
 looks, demanded to know whether he had uttered such remarks. 
 He remembered and approved them, and the public would have 
 sustained him in proclaiming them ; but the poor man was 
 frightened out of his senses, equivocated and made concessions 
 derogatory to his character. This unmanly course involved him 
 in fresh difficulties with those who would have firmly sustained 
 him in a frank, bold and honorable course. Throughout his 
 painful embarrassments it was apparent that his difficulties arose 
 from lack of courage to speak and act according to the dictates 
 of his own conscience. 
 
 "The Seal of Heaven." 
 
 This appeared in 1871. It was published by the 
 American Tract Society, and in a style by no means 
 attractive. It contains 200 pages, and, while well 
 printed, is of uncouth shape, and of a binding so dull 
 as to be a weariness to the eyes. 
 
 Dr. Jeter enjoyed peculiarly the preparation of 
 this work, and it bears upon itself the imprint of his 
 trained and devout mind. It is intended to show 
 the adaptation of the gospel to human wants, and 
 the sufficiency of Christian evidences. It is written 
 in his clearest and most fascinating style. It is filled 
 with the marrow of the gospel, rich in experimental 
 truth, and well-suited to edify and comfort the saints 
 of God. 
 
 Perhaps two remarks in the way of adverse criti- 
 cism ought to be made respecting this book. It was 
 unluckily named. He requested several friends, my- 
 
378 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 self among the number, to aid him in selecting a 
 name ; but, while acquainted with the contents of 
 the book, we were not able to hit upon a title which 
 seemed satisfactory. The name was of his own 
 choosing, and yet he did not like it. Besides this, 
 the discussion was not exhaustive. It touched great 
 questions without answering them. It ought to have 
 been either simpler in its line of thought, or more 
 elaborate and profound in. its discussions. His ge- 
 nius, culture and deep religious experience fitted 
 him well for producing a great work on Christian 
 evidences. The world is a loser by his failure to 
 write it. 
 
 We have now finished the list of his more ex- 
 tended publications. Nothing that I can say will 
 give the reader an adequate idea of the amount of 
 literary work which he performed during his public 
 life. For more than a half-century he was tugging 
 away with his pen, writing sermons, reviews, con- 
 troversial articles, literary addresses, magazine arti- 
 cles, circulars, open letters, tracts and indeed every- 
 thing except poetry. Poetry he could not write. 
 He tried it often, but always without success. He 
 said that he could write one line of poetry admirably 
 well, but that he never could make any headway on 
 the second line. 
 
 In company with Dr. Richard Fuller, he compiled 
 the Psalmist, which, it is hardly invidious to say, was 
 one of the choicest collections of hymns that was 
 ever given to the American Baptist public. How 
 much Dr. Jeter had to do with the planning of the 
 book, or in the selection of the hymns, I have not 
 
ACHIEVEMENTS IN AUTHORSHIP. 379 
 
 been able to ascertain. Whatever he undertook was 
 quite sure to receive his most careful attention. 
 
 Rev. H. A. Tupper, Jr., of Kentucky, has kindly 
 furnished me with the following list which Dr. Jeter 
 made of his works, and which he desired to have 
 collected, revised and preserved. I insert the paper 
 just as it came from his own hands : 
 
 WORKS OF J. B. JETER, TO BE COLLECTED, 
 REVISED AND PRESERVED. 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 " Education of the Ministry " (1 Tim. iii. 3). First published 
 Sermon. Pamphlet. 
 
 " Theatrical Amusements " (1 Thess. v. 22). Pamphlet. 
 
 " Beneficence " (Acts xx. 35). Preached before the General 
 Association. Baptist Preacher. 
 
 " The Faithful Ministry " (2 Tim. iv. 5). Preached before the 
 Dover Association. Religious Herald. 
 
 "Christian Circumspection " (Eph. v. 15). Pamphlet. 
 
 "Gambling" (Rom. xii 9). Baptist Preacher. 
 
 " Funeral of Jno. Kerr " (Dan. xii. 3). Baptist Preacher. 
 
 "Funeral of Rev. Wm. Leftwich" (Heb. xi. 4). Baptist 
 Preacher. 
 
 " Funeral of Jas. Leftwich " (Rev. ii. 10). Bajytist Preacher. 
 
 " Funeral of A. Broaddus " (Acts xiii 36). Baptist Preacher. 
 
 "Brazen Serpent a type of Christ" (John iii. 14, 15). In a 
 Northern Periodical. 
 
 " Defence of the Truth " (Jude 3). Preached before General 
 Association. Religious Herald. 
 
 "Heedfulness of the Ministry" (Col. iv. 17). Preached before 
 S. B. Theo. Sem. Religious Herald. 
 
 " Lotteries " (text not remembered). A Manuscript. 
 
 " Historical Sermon of the First Baptist Church, Richmond " 
 (Deut. viii. 2). Manuscript. 
 
 " Historical Sermon of the General Association " (Deut. viii. 2). 
 Manuscript. 
 
 " Funeral of Luther Rice " (Matt. x. 28-30). Manuscript. 
 
380 LI F £ OF JEREMIAH B. JETEE, D.D. 
 
 TRACTS. 
 
 " Justification." S. B. Pub. Society. 
 " Vindication of Baptists." S. B. P. Society. 
 " A Mother's Parting Words to her Soldier Boy." Published 
 during the war. Very useful. 
 " Profane Swearing." Do. Do. 
 "Communion." By the Am. Bap. Publication Society. 
 
 BOOKS. 
 
 " Memoir of Rev. A. W. Clopton." 
 
 "Life of Mrs. Hen. Shuck." 
 
 "Life of Rev. A. Broaddus." 
 
 "Campbellism Examined." 
 
 "Campbellism Re-examined." 
 
 " The (Christian) Mirror." 
 
 " The Seal (of Heaven)." 
 
 "Distinctive Baptist Principles." Scrap-Book. 
 
 " Recollections of a Long Life." Scrap-Book. 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 Defence of Southern Baptists in "withdrawing from the Trien- 
 nial Convention. Christian Review. 
 
 About forty-five editorials selected from the Herald on various 
 topics, including many biographical notices. 
 
 Defences of Baptist Principles, etc. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 IN THE EDITOEIAL CHAIR. 
 
 THE Religious Herald was established in February, 
 1828. It was called into existence by the spirit 
 of organization, which had then just taken pos- 
 session of the Virginia Baptists, and, in turn, became 
 a grand factor in promoting denominational unity. 
 Its founder was William Sands, by birth an 'English- 
 man, a decided Baptist, and a quiet, modest Christian 
 gentleman. He was small of stature, quaint in 
 manner, and, while skilled as a practical printer, had 
 no editorial experience, and was utterly lacking in 
 popular magnetism. At first, the paper was diminu- 
 tive in size, inferior in material, and limited in 
 patronage. But for the economy of its proprietor, 
 and the gratuitous aid of his brethren, it could hardly 
 have maintained its existence.* In its interest 
 
 * The honor of founding the Religious Herald really belongs to William 
 Crane. He was a wise and influential Baptist in Richmond, and an earnest 
 advocate of denominational unity. To secure this he felt that a vehicle of 
 communication was indispensable. With this view, he persuaded Mr. Sands, 
 then a resident of Baltimore, to come to Richmond and start a paper. He 
 not only furnished the money to purchase its outfit, but contributed, with un- 
 stinted liberality, to its continued support. Mr. Crane was really the founder 
 of the Religious Herald. A leading Baptist once said that our denomination 
 in Virginia, owed more to William Sands and Dr. Robert Ryland than to any 
 other two men. Dr. Jeter said that he could not undertake to deny the truth 
 of the encomiastic remark, but that justice required that, in honoring these 
 brethren, we should not deprive William Crane of the honor of having given 
 to the Virginia Baptists, a religious journal. 
 
 381 
 
382 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 James B. Taylor made several expeditions through 
 Virginia, and secured hundreds of subscribers. Bro. 
 Sands retained the proprietorship of the paper, until 
 the end of the war, though he had associated with 
 him, at different times, Henry Keeling, Eli Ball, 
 David Shaver and others. As an editor, Mr. Sands 
 was painstaking, accurate and diligent, but not in 
 the least brilliant. 
 
 He had, however, several things in his favor. In 
 Mr. Crane he had a generous and judicious adviser. 
 He was also himself a singularly prudent man. He 
 made very few mistakes. 
 
 The leading Baptist men of the State stood by 
 him. They regarded his paper, as well-nigh invalu- 
 able, as an organ of communication. They worked 
 for its circulation, and contributed to its columns 
 most cordially and without charge. In Semple, 
 Broaddus, Rice, Clopton, Taylor, Howell, Jeter, 
 Poindexter and others, the Herald had a truly royal 
 corps of contributors. They were men of might, 
 and wrote with a leisurely care and a ripened pre- 
 cision which gave immense vigor to their articles. 
 
 It is also due to Mr. Sands to say that he was 
 expert in the use of his scissors. He had a simple 
 desire to dispense to his readers, the best and choicest 
 matter, and did not hesitate to clip from contemporar y 
 journals. Abating the fact, that he would load h js 
 paper, sometimes with Gubernatorial and Presidential 
 messages, and many-columned articles of the con- 
 troversial or exegetical sort, the Herald attained , 
 under Mr. Sands' management, a high standard. In 
 variety, piquancy and brilliancy, it fell short of the 
 distinction which it has since won. 
 
IN THE EDITORIAL CHAIR. 383 
 
 A few years before the beginning of the Civil War, 
 Dr. Shaver, pronounced by some one the Robert 
 Hall of America, became the leading editor of the 
 paper. He was a fertile and racy writer, and very 
 popular with the more cultivated portion of his 
 readers. 
 
 In the memorable conflagration which, in April, 
 1865, reduced one-third of Richmond to ashes, the 
 office of the Religious Herald, with its fixtures and 
 records, was totally destroyed. The wreck was 
 complete, and Sands and Shaver were unable to 
 resuscitate it. 
 
 In the autumn of 1865, Dr. Jeter and Rev. A. E. 
 Dickinson formed a partnership, and purchased the 
 paper. There was really nothing to purchase, except 
 the name, subscription-list and good-will. They 
 began regularly its publication in Noyember, 1865. 
 Dr. Dickinson speedily proved himself, a superior can- 
 vasser, a brilliant paragraphist, and an expert in at- 
 tracting to the paper, popular and entertaining con- 
 tributors. He was strong in some points, in which 
 Dr. Jeter was weak, and they well complemented 
 each other, in their associated work. Their connec- 
 tion continued to the end of Dr. Jeter's life, and the 
 paper has been published, ever since, under the firm- 
 name, then adopted. 
 
 In the first issue of the paper, Dr. Jeter wrote a 
 brief salutatory, as senior editor, in which he gave 
 in detail, some of the reasons which prompted him, 
 at so late a time in life, to enter a new and untried 
 sphere of labor. He stated that it had been a cher- 
 ished purpose with him to devote his later years to 
 
384 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 authorship. As that wish was denied, he adopted 
 editorial life, as the next best thing. 
 
 In some respects, Dr. Jeter was not suited for 
 journalistic life. He lacked practical skill. He 
 was not a business man, and had no experience as a 
 journalist. This he knew, and from the first insisted 
 upon having a business manager whom he could 
 implicitly trust. He sometimes said that he was 
 constrained to trust his manager so blindly, that he 
 could easily mismanage the affairs of the office, if he 
 chose to do so. But, after all, he was not indifferent 
 to the business department of the paper. He 
 watched it with honest scrutiny, and, if aught went 
 awry, he was quick to detect it. His rectitude of 
 purpose and fine common sense helped him every- 
 where. 
 
 He never knew how to push the circulation of the 
 paper. It was impossible for him to explore the 
 country in quest of subscribers. His main idea was 
 to make the paper so good, that the people could not 
 afford, not to take it. A good idea truly, and yet in 
 these harsh, commercial times, not sufficient of itself, 
 to insure the largest circulation of a religious news- 
 paper. It was amusing to observe him, at a district 
 association, in his clumsy attempts to represent the 
 Herald. On the value of a religious newspaper, he 
 could speak admirably, but when he came down to 
 the matter of soliciting or receiving subscriptions, he 
 was lamentably awkward and helpless. By the 
 fame of his pen, he added many names to his list, 
 but by personal appeals, he won very few. 
 
 He was also of little worth in the news depart- 
 
IN THE EDITORIAL CHAIR. 385 
 
 ment of the paper. He did not know how to report a 
 meeting, or how to gather up the odds and ends of 
 things and mould them into bright and taking para- 
 graphs. If he made a journey, he could write an 
 interesting account of it; or if he went to a con- 
 vention, he could cast, into readable shape, his 
 impressions. If a good man died, he could indite a 
 graceful tribute to his memory. He lacked, however, 
 that taste for the piquant, sensational and pleasing 
 which is so valuable in adding zest and freshness to 
 a newspaper. He was not a reporter. 
 
 But he was an editor. It must be remembered 
 that he was nearly sixty-four, when he entered the 
 field of journalism. He suffered inconvenience from 
 lack of that sharpened skill which is the product of 
 long experience. It is possible, too, that he had lost 
 that freshness of fancy and exuberant sympathy 
 with the times, which would have enhanced his 
 attractiveness to the young. But it is not too much 
 to say, that he became eminent in the profession of 
 his old age. No man, perhaps, of the present 
 generation, in the Baptist ranks at least, has attain- 
 ed more commanding influence in the newspaper 
 world. This is said, not in empty extravagance and 
 in no invidious spirit. The statement is amply 
 justified by his editorial history. Only a brief 
 mention can be made of his characteristics as a 
 journalist. 
 
 His discretion was masterly. He knew what 
 
 ought not to go into a religious newspaper. He had, 
 
 to use a journalist's homely phrase, "the genuine 
 
 editorial gumption." He was a forbearing critic and 
 25 
 
386 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 had an amiable desire to gratify his contributors, but 
 his convictions of right would not allow him to 
 publish articles that were irreverent, wantonly 
 heretical or uncharitable. He did not allow the 
 commercial aspects of the paper to override his 
 christian sense of propriety. He edited his paper 
 for the glory of God. He often gave offense by re- 
 jecting offensive communications. Not that he ex- 
 cluded all articles with whose views he did not agree. 
 On one point he was always generous — that is, in 
 opening his columns to those who wished to combat 
 his peculiar opinions. He believed in discussion, 
 when kept within proper limits. But he recognized 
 his responsibility for what was said, in his paper by 
 other men. He did not hesitate to exclude the pro- 
 ductions of his best friends, if he believed that they 
 were false to good taste, or hurtful to the truth. 
 When he published articles, involving statements at 
 variance with his own convictions, he usually 
 appended a note, disavowing his sympathy with 
 them. He once said, that if his readers could know 
 how much he kept out of his paper, they would for- 
 give him, for sometimes admitting matter of doubt- 
 ful propriety. It is due to him to say that, under 
 his administration, the Religious Herald was remark- 
 able for its cleanness, dignity and devoutness of 
 tone. 
 
 He exercised a paternal discrimination over the 
 matter which went into his paper. He edited it, 
 with the best literary and critical taste. He would 
 sometimes so amend, recast and burnish the intel- 
 lectual offsprings of his brethren that when they 
 
IN THE EDITORIAL CHAIR. 387 
 
 appeared in their new garb, not even their doting 
 parents could easily recognize them. 
 
 Dr. Jeter knew what a religious paper ought to 
 be. He estimated its scope and purpose with 
 surpassing discrimination. He possessed the grace 
 and tact of holding the Herald, strictly to its appro- 
 priate line. The truth of this statement could be 
 amply illustrated, if we had space for that purpose. 
 He struck the happy mean between the heavy and 
 the trivial. He did not load his paper with dull 
 and learned lumber, which belonged more appropri- 
 ately to reviews, nor did he crowd into it the chaffy, 
 sensational stuff which some editors fancy to be 
 essential to the success of their journals. He de- 
 spised claptrap in everything, and always avoided 
 high-sounding captions or exciting introductions to 
 the matter which went into the paper under his 
 direction. He imparted his own quiet and self- 
 respecting dignity to the Herald, until the public 
 came to feel, that they saw him, week by week, in its 
 columns. The highest charm of the paper, under 
 his administration was his serene and saintly 
 personality, which so thoroughly pervaded it. 
 
 His skill was equally manifest in preserving the 
 proper religious tone of the paper. Its religious 
 character stood out in happy relief. Not that he 
 restricted it to a gushing pietism — a conglomeration 
 of sacred rhyme Bible stories or revival items ; but 
 he never allowed the paper to drift away into 
 secularism. He would admit the discussion of 
 philosophical, historical, scientific or political 
 questions, so far as they had to do with the gospel. 
 
388 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 He also provided itemized secular news, for the 
 benefit of those readers who did not see other papers. 
 But he made his paper emphatically religious. 
 
 An interesting chapter might be written on the 
 scope of his personal contributions to the paper. He 
 dealt with a great variety of topics — rarely touching 
 one of doubtful propriety, and yet often select- 
 ing those which it was exceedingly difficult to handle 
 with delicacy. That the reader may appreciate the 
 force of this remark, I will mention that in a random 
 glance through the Herald's file for the year of 1878. 
 I found the following topics of his leading editorials 
 — A Call to the Ministry ; Religious Controversy ; 
 Ministerial Courtesy ; " A Miracle in Stone, or the 
 Great Pyramid of Egypt ;" Agrarianism ; Relative 
 Duties of the Rich and Poor, and Pastoral Benev- 
 olence. 
 
 He was peculiarly felicitous in discussing the 
 religious aspects of what seemed to be purely secular 
 questions. He saw everything in its relations to 
 Christ, and I think his highest function as an editor 
 was, in so clearing misty and obscure questions, as to 
 make them intelligible to the common mind. 
 
 I introduce here a part of his editorial on the State 
 debt. It appeared in 1878, at the time that Virginia 
 was sorely agitated by the threat of certain leading 
 politicians to precipitate the repudiation of Virginia's 
 debt. The Legislature was in session at the time, 
 and the article attracted great attention. It is a 
 fine specimen of his skill, vigor and candor as a 
 writer. 
 
IN THE EDITORIAL CHAIR. 389 
 
 THE STATE DEBT — SHALL IT BE PAID OR REPUDIATED? 
 
 This subject falls fairly within the scope of religious journalism. 
 With its political, or party aspects, we have no concern ; but in its 
 moral bearing we have, in common with our fellow-citizens, a pro- 
 found interest. Public and private morality cannot be dissociated. 
 Public is only the aggregate of individual morality. There can be 
 but little private, where tbere is no public virtue. The payment of 
 just debts is required, not only by sound ethics, but by divine reve- 
 lation. " Owe no man anything" is an inspired precept, which does 
 not forbid the contracting of debts, but does most solemnly enjoin 
 the payment of them. We shall, therefore, with all candor and free- 
 dom, discuss the subject of our State debt, but simply in its moral 
 aspects. 
 
 Had the State been free to act at the close of the war, we readily 
 concede that a strong, at least a plausible, argument in favor of the 
 reduction of her debt might have been presented. Her territory had 
 been largely desolated, one-third of it wrested from her possession, 
 and a great portion of her taxable property, on the basis of which her 
 debt was contracted, had been destroyed by the fortune of war. The 
 State, however, overthrown and prostrated, could make no arrange- 
 ment for the settlement of her debt. When she was rehabitated her 
 representatives, acting under the Constitution and the sanction of 
 their oath, assumed such portion of the public debt as they deemed it 
 just and proper to pay. Whether their course was wise or unwise it 
 is needless to discuss. If it was not obligator)', then no act of the 
 present or of any future Legislature can be binding, for they must 
 act under the same Constitution and with the same authority as the 
 Legislature that assumed the debt. We have not, indeed, seen the 
 justice of the debt called in question. If it were, our canal and our 
 railroads, penetrating every part of the State, and contributing 
 greatly to the comfort and prosperity of our people, and our humane 
 and literary institutions, the result of the money for which the State 
 is indebted, should forever silence the doubt. 
 
 The best way to get rid of private debts is to pay them. It may 
 require time, toil, self-denial and sacrifice to do it, but this is the 
 course prescribed by equity and honor, and, indeed, enforced by the 
 laws of the State. The man who pays his debts in full, with interest, 
 is far more respected and far more worthy of confidence than most 
 persons who settle their dues by bankrupt notices and enforced com- 
 promises. Some of our political financiers, however, think that the 
 State debt may be paid, at least in part, by what they term " read- 
 justment." Let us examine this method of liquidating. To a free, 
 full and mutual adjustment of debt between the debtor and the 
 creditor there can be no objection. If ihe debtor, from love to the 
 creditor or pity for his poverty, abates his claim, surely nobody can 
 complain. We fear that the hope of such a settlement of the State 
 debt is Utopian. 
 
 The principal plea that we have heard urged for the readjustment 
 of Ihe State debt is her inability to pay it. This is surely a mistake. 
 The State debt, subject to interest, is $29,350,826.38; the amount of 
 interest due and in arrears is $4,188,141.33 ; making the total amount 
 due a little more than thirty-three millions and a half. The real 
 
390 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 estate in the Commonwealth is estimated at $242,756,548.75, and the 
 personal property, far below its value, at $74,954,304 — making a total 
 of $317,710,852. According to this estimate, taken from the auditors' 
 accounts, the taxable property of the State is more than nine and a 
 half times as great as her public debt, and about eleven times as great 
 as her interest-paying debt. Now, what should we think of a man 
 who, owing a debt amounting to one-tenth part of estimated value of 
 his estate, should make piteous lamentation over his poverty, plead 
 bis inability to pay the interest on his debt, and resort to artifices to 
 evade its payment, in whole or in part? We are unwilling to use 
 offensive epithets, and must trust our readers to form their own judg- 
 ment on the subject. Our late Governor thought that the present 
 rate of taxation, with due economy and proper retrenchments, would 
 pay the current expenses and interest on the debt of the State. He 
 may have been sanguine in his estimate, but certainly a moderate in- 
 crease of the taxes will enable the State to pay all her just debts. 
 
 It should be borne in mind that the State is only required, for 
 many years to come, to pay the interest on her debt. We are assured, 
 too, by the best authority, that there are but two States in the Union 
 whose tax is lighter than that of Virginia. She now pays 50 cents on 
 the hundred dollars, and an additional tax of 10 or 15 cents on that 
 amount would certainly meet all her liabilities. It surely cannot be 
 impracticable to advance the tax $1.00 or $1.50 on every $1000 worth 
 of property to save the State from bankruptcy and disgrace. 
 
 It is asserted by the friends of readjustment that the State cannot 
 pay her debt without an increased rate of taxation, and the people 
 will not bear it. This is a grave and dishonoring charge against the 
 citizens of Virginia, and ought not to be believed without clear and 
 decisive evidence. The indictment is simply this: The agents of the 
 State, acting under her authority and according to her will, borrowed 
 money that was usefully expended in the improvement of her terri- 
 tory, and now her citizens refuse to be taxed to pay the interest on 
 the loan. That there are many persons opposed to paying the State 
 debt, as they are to paying their own debts, we sorrowfully admit. A 
 large portion of her people pay no tax, or only a poll-tax, and the 
 payment of the State debt is no burden to them. Citizens possessing 
 but little property have but light taxes to pay, and cannot reasonably 
 complain of their burden. Men of means, who really pay the taxes 
 of the State, are, with few exceptions, so far as our information ex- 
 tends, in favor of paying our debt. We do not believe, we cannot 
 believe, that the people of Virginia, with her noble historic record, 
 the birth-place of Washington, Madison and Jefferson are unwilling 
 to be taxed to pay a just debt, contracted to prosecute public im- 
 provements that are now the convenience and comfort of the land. 
 
 That the State, in her embarrassment, should desire a reduction of 
 her debt is not surprising. All her loyal citizens would rejoice if it 
 could be secured by fair and honorable means. We fear it cannot be. 
 Let us look the subject in the face. 
 
 The creditors of the State are scattered over this country and 
 Europe, and it is impossible for the agents of the State to have a free 
 and full interchange of views with them in order to adjust the terms 
 of settling the public debt, and if such an interview could be secured, 
 it is scarcely within the compass of possibility that the creditors 
 
IN THE EDITORIAL CHAIR. 391 
 
 would agree on adjustment. A few of them, generous and large- 
 hearted, might be inclined to abate a portion of their claims, in view of 
 the loudly-asserted poverty of the State, as they would favor any other 
 pauper debtor, but it is contrary to all the laws that govern humanity 
 to suppose that the bulk of the creditors, without constraint, would 
 yield a portion of their just claims to a State whose taxable property 
 exceeds by ten-fold the amount of all her indebtedness. Nor is this 
 all. A considerable portion of the State bonds is held by widows 
 and other poor and dependent persons, whose meagre means were 
 vested in State securities, with undoubting faith in her integrity, and 
 they ought not to reduce their claims. The State could not honor- 
 ably accept the reduction, if they were willing to make it. More 
 than this, a portion of the State bonds is held by guardians for de- 
 pendent orphans, and by trustees for educational and benevolent in- 
 stitutions, and they could not, if they would, and ought not, if they 
 could, abate any portion of their claims. 
 
 Twist and turn the matter as we may, readjustment must either be 
 forcible or a failure. Forcible readjustment is simply a refusal to 
 pay the State debt, in whole or in part, and is but another name for 
 repudiation. Let us look beyond the word for its meaning. It is the 
 refusal of the State to pay a debt, in whole or in part, not because she 
 is unable to pay it, or it is not justly due, but because she does not 
 find it convenient, or has no inclination, or cannot be compelled to 
 pay it. Let us calmly examine the act. We will not # indulge in op- 
 probrious epithets, but we request gentlemen whose " eyes, turned on 
 emptiness, beam keen with honor" to survey it, and form their own 
 judgment of it. Christians especially we would address in the lan- 
 guage of the apostle : " Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are 
 true, whatsoever things are honed, whatsoever things are just, * * * 
 think on these things." 
 
 It is due to the friends of forcible readjustment, or repudiation — a 
 small minority we trust -to suppose that they have not carefully 
 considered the character and consequences of the measure they pro- 
 pose. It is not only in violation of the law of God, but is condemned 
 by every ethical code, and is against the enlightened sentiment of all 
 Christendom. It brings dishonor and a burning shame upon every 
 community that resorts to it. Hitherto, Virginians, when they have 
 gone abroad, and have heard reproaches and denunciations against 
 repudiators, — the robbers of unfortunate creditors, — have stood at 
 full height, with open face, and proclaimed that they resided in a 
 State in which honor is an inheritance and repudiation an impossi- 
 bility. We trust the Legislature will not deprive us of this cherished 
 possession, mantle our cheeks with shame, and make us a by-word 
 and a hissing among civilized nations. 
 
 " Honesty is the best policy," for States as well as for individuals. 
 Who will immigrate to a repudiating State? Only the debased, with 
 whom honor is at a discount, and who, like birds that feast on car- 
 rion, scenting the distant body politic, haste to partake of the decay- 
 ing carcass. Who can trust a repudiating State? If it dishonors one 
 claim, will it not dishonor another? The principle laid down by the 
 Saviour is applicable to a State as well as to an individual : "He that 
 is unjust in the least is unjust also in much ; ' and certainly he that 
 is uujust in much will not be just in little. Who will be surety for a 
 
392 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 State that has broken her promise, defrauded her creditors and 
 quenched her honor ? 
 
 Repudiation, should it spring from demoralization of society con- 
 sequent on the war, the bankrupt law and the unfortunate stay laws 
 of the State, will react upon society. Who can refuse to follow the 
 example of a State illustrious for her patriotism, her generous sacri- 
 fices and her heroic deeds ? We fear that repudiation will be classed 
 among the virtues, and that debtors will deem it commendable to 
 resort to artifices and threats for the adjustment or repudiation of 
 their debts. How can the State, having set the example, restrain her 
 citizens from following it? What is deemed right in the mother can 
 hardly be considered infamous in her children. 
 
 The most outspoken readjusters, we suppose, have a regard to con- 
 sistency. If the State, in repudiating its State debt, or a portion of 
 it, despoils herself of the jewel of consistency, she casts away the 
 only remaining ornament that adorned her once noble and august 
 person. If she is unable or unwilling to pay her debts, then all her 
 creditors and the recipients of her bounty should fare alike. If she 
 cannot or will not pay her old creditors, except in part, then, for the 
 same reason and to the same extent, her officers, the members of her 
 Legislature and the receivers of her appropriations should be unpaid. 
 Let us illustrate this principle by a case at hand. The friends of 
 Richmond College, with great self-denial and liberality, contributed 
 funds for its endowment, to be used especially for the education of 
 young men of the State. The trustees, knowing the ability of Vir- 
 ginia to pay her debts in full, and confiding in her honesty, preferred 
 her securities to all others that were offered for their acceptance, and 
 made a large investment in her bonds. Now is it right, in the sight 
 of God or of men, that she should rob the college of the whole or a 
 part of the investment, for the payment of which she is solemnly 
 bound by all the laws and all the honor that bind a commonwealth ? 
 In our opinion, and we speak as a tax-payer, the State debt should 
 be paid, in full, without needless delay, just as the debt of an honor- 
 able gentleman, bearing the same proportion to his property as does 
 that of the State to her available means, would certainly be. The 
 Legislature should retrench the public expenditures, use economi- 
 cally the means in hand, seek out all suitable subjects of taxation, 
 and then impose such taxes as are actually needed to meet the public 
 liabilities. This course would please not only "the bloated bond- 
 holders," as the generous creditors of the State are sometimes con- 
 temptuously called, but every high-minded and patriotic citizen. * * * 
 We have* written earnestly, but not unkindly. We have given free 
 utterance to our own solemn and profound convictions ; but we have 
 assailed no man's motives, and concede to all perfect freedom of 
 opinion. The readjusters have reasons which satisfv their own 
 minds as to the necessity, at least, of their policy. We know but 
 imperfectly what they are. Thev may be right; wedo not claim 
 infallibility for our own views. We have no personal interest in the 
 subject discussed, and have written simply from the desire to promote 
 public and private integrity, and to save, if possible, our beloved 
 commonwealth from what, we apprehend, would be a lasting dis- 
 grace. 
 
IN THE EDITORIAL CHAIR. 393 
 
 He usually wrote from two to four columns a 
 week. His leader rarely fell short of a column, and 
 quite often went beyond it. He would select a 
 theme— one suited to his taste and information — and 
 discuss it tersely, but exhaustively. What he said 
 usually embraced everything that needed to be said, 
 and was so well said, that it could not be gainsaid. 
 He measured his ground carefully before he took his 
 position, and very rarely made a mistake, and when 
 once intrenched, it was hard to dislodge him. Man}'' 
 an ambitious tyro charged upon him, and not a few 
 redoubtable heroes of the quill assailed him, with 
 confident courage, only to find that his positions were 
 impregnable. It was positively provoking to ob- 
 serve the unruffled calmness, with which he received 
 these attacks. They were, sometimes, made upon 
 him, not with the weapons of a lawful warfare, but 
 in terms of vituperation and scurrility. But he 
 did not mind it. He said that he was conscious of 
 only one qualification as an editor, and that was the 
 power to bear abuse without any feeling of resent- 
 ment. Once or twice, I quarreled with him outright, 
 for submitting so tamely to the indignities of men in- 
 finitely inferior to him in worth and standing. He 
 replied, that he could afford to be abused and 
 maligned, but that he could not on any account 
 afford to retaliate. If others hated him, that was 
 their business ; but, if he hated them, that would be a 
 sin of his own. 
 
 One of his exchanges treated him with unmeas- 
 ured barbarity. It impugned his motives, and vili- 
 fied him so remorselessly, that he modestly suggested 
 
394 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 that it would be better for both parties, that they 
 cease to exchange official courtesies. From that 
 time to the day of his death, the two papers kept on 
 their respective sides of the road, neither ever en- 
 tering the office of the other. This was accom- 
 plished in a quiet, even-tempered way, so far as he 
 was involved, and was little known to the public. 
 He knew, as well, as any other man, when an act was 
 mean and spiteful, and he was too honest not to de- 
 spise it ; but he knew how to bridle his tongue, and 
 to avoid hard and hasty speech. He never dipped 
 his pen in gall, nor thickened his ink with boiling 
 blood. 
 
 If his editorial brethren took offence, at any utter- 
 ances of his, he was prompt to explain, and if con- 
 vinced that he had spoken unadvisedly, he was ready 
 to retract, or modify his statements. He maintained 
 the most fraternal relations, with his professional 
 brotherhood, so far as it could consistently be done. 
 This was true not only of Baptist editors, but of those 
 of other denominations, and of the secular press. He 
 was always hailed, as a chief among his brethren, and 
 they delighted to accord to him the seat of honor. 
 Some editors got mad with him. He was too strong 
 for them. They joined battle with him, and were 
 worsted, and even when he died, though the most 
 conspicuous Baptist editor of the South, if not of the 
 country, his death did not soothe their resentments. 
 They did not have grace, to speak fittingly of the old 
 man, even when his pen had been laid aside, and 
 his soul had gone to heaven. This is really too sad 
 to be mentioned. It is due to many of the editors 
 
IN THE EDITORIAL CHAIR. 395 
 
 who had grappled him in high debate, while he lived, 
 to say that when his end came they were prompt to 
 wreathe his name with chaplets of honor. 
 
 Dr. Jeter was a controversialist, not by taste, but 
 from conviction. His convictions were sharp, his 
 zeal outspoken, and his spirit valorous and aggres- 
 sive. He could not be silent, when, in his judgment, 
 truth was imperilled or error was rampant. He 
 was a warrior all his life. He was prompt to con- 
 tend for the faith, once delivered to the saints. He 
 had the heart of a lion, and without knowing it, was 
 a man of transcendent courage. But he was not 
 bitter. He was uniformly courteous toward his 
 adversaries. It was impossible to dragoon him into 
 harsh personalities. 
 
 In speaking of him as a controversialist, I beg to let 
 him give his own views as to the spirit in which reli- 
 gious controversy should be conducted. This is taken 
 from the Religious Herald of February 14th, 1878 : 
 
 " To be useful, religious controversy must be conducted with 
 candor. This is an honest desire to know and maintain truth. 
 It resorts to no artifices or evasions in discussions. It admits all 
 that is true in the arguments of an opponent. It scorns to mis- 
 represent his statements, take advantage of his mistakes or dam- 
 age his cause by any effort to awaken prejudices against it. In 
 short, it aims to reach or defend truth only by clear statements, 
 sound reasoning and kind appeals. Observation has led us to 
 the conclusion that candor is the rarest of all human virtues, and 
 so uncommon in nothing as in religious cpntroversy. Yet, with- 
 out this spirit religious controversy is a mere attempted display 
 of dialectic skill, unprofitable, if not pernicious, to men and offen- 
 sive in the sight of God. 
 
 Another needed element of religious controversy is courtesy. 
 
396 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 It avoids all that is rude or offensive in manner, and seeks by 
 gentleness and urbanity to conciliate and win an opponent. 
 Most controversialists pursue an opposite course. By self-confi- 
 dent airs, opprobrious remarks and ungenerous insinuations they 
 defeat the end of their discussion and injure their own cause. . . . 
 
 Humility is a most becoming disposition in religious contro- 
 versy. It is not haughty, intolerant and overbearing ; but self- 
 distrustful, modest and cautious. It is not incompatible with 
 strong convictions and earnest purpose, but it lays no claim to 
 infallibility and supreme authority. It is not difficult to find 
 polemics, who, with meagre knowledge and limited experience, 
 have no question of their inerrability, especially on points con- 
 cerning which the evidence is dim, and the wisest men are most 
 in doubt. It should be understood, too, that undue self-confidence 
 adds nothing to the strength of an argument, and that a modest 
 statement of it detracts nothing from its force. Few persons will 
 patiently receive instructions from a self-conceited dogmatic 
 teacher, but most are inclined to pay respectful attention to the 
 utterances of a modest, unassuming defender of his opinions. 
 
 All religious controversy should be conducted in a spirit of 
 prayer. Without the divine blessing we may acquire the repu- 
 tation of skilful disputants, and enjoy the pleasure of real or imag- 
 inary triumphs, but we will contribute nothing to the progress 
 and glory of the word of the Lord. To Avar in the defence of reli- 
 gious truth in a godly spirit, and with only divinely-appointed 
 armor, demands a measure of faith and piety that few Christians 
 possess, but without which they should be cautious not to enter 
 into the conflict." 
 
 These are the Christian principles which Dr. 
 Jeter believed ought to underlie all religious contro- 
 versy. He and Dr. Gambrell, of Mississippi, had an 
 extended controversy on what is known among 
 Southwestern Baptists as " Landmarkism." The 
 discussion was earnest, vigorous and prolonged, and 
 yet, it would not be too much to say that from begin- 
 ning to end, neither of the disputants used a single 
 
IN THE EDITORIAL CHAIR. 397 
 
 disparaging epithet, or resorted to the least indirec- 
 tion, to gain the advantage. It was a model religious 
 controversy. It demonstrated the fact, that thor- 
 oughly good men may be as considerate and courte- 
 ous in matters of disagreement, as when their views 
 are in exact harmony. 
 
 One fact added immensely to Dr. Jeter's influence 
 and celebrity as an editor. He entered the field of 
 journalism at a critical period in the history of our 
 republic. The war had just ended. The South was 
 crushed, despondent and bitter. The North, flushed 
 with sudden victory, had not learned to be magnan- 
 imous. The tone of its religious press was intem- 
 perate, and often contemptuous towards the South. 
 Spiteful flings were made at their vanquished breth- 
 ren. On the Southern side, the pepole were chafed 
 and resentful, and found grim comfort in bitterly 
 denouncing those who had conquered them. Polit- 
 ical problems, new and perplexing, sprang up out 
 of the ruins of the war, exciting acrimonious debate 
 and widening the bloody chasm. 
 
 At this crisis, Dr. Jeter entered the editorial field. 
 He was then in the later prime of a vigorous and 
 well-preserved manhood. His reputation was na- 
 tional. He had played a most memorable part in 
 the old Triennial Convention, and while of all South- 
 ern men, he had been most active in promoting the 
 division of that body, his conservative spirit and 
 courteous dignity had secured for him, the highest 
 respect of the representative Baptists of the North. 
 
 By his wisdom and consecrated energy, he had 
 become the most influential leader among the Bap- 
 
398 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D 
 
 tists of the South. He wrote the paper which called 
 together the meeting that resulted in forming the 
 Southern Baptist Convention. He was the first 
 President of the Foreign Mission Board, and was 
 looked upon, by his Southern brethren, as a safe and 
 trustworthy counsellor. He was all the more ac- 
 ceptable to them, because of his cordial identifica- 
 tion with the fortunes of the Southern Confederacy. 
 They knew that, in the war sense of the term, he 
 was a Southern man. 
 
 His bold and decided attitude during the war, of 
 course, provoked the prejudices of the more extreme 
 men of the North. But the best people in both sec- 
 tions soon learned to respect earnest men on either 
 side, while they looked with suspicious eye upon 
 those who sought to be on both sides. 
 
 It was fortunate for Dr. Jeter that his home was 
 in Richmond. As the capital of the Southern Con- 
 federacy, that city had become the most commanding 
 point in the South, and situated on the middle line, 
 it gave to the Herald easy access to both sections. 
 He enjoyed the additional advantage of starting his 
 enterprise in advance of many other Southern Bap- 
 tist papers, and thus speedily secured a circulation 
 in the South which led the Northern exchanges to 
 recognize it as, in a large measure, the organ of 
 Southern Baptist sentiment. 
 
 From the outset, he took strong ground in favor of 
 fraternity and good-will between the Baptists of the 
 South and those of the North. With many, his 
 views did not command prompt approval. Among 
 the fanatical and revengeful of the North, his calm 
 
IN THE EDITORIAL CHAIR. 399 
 
 plea for forbearance was mistaken for ignoble cring- 
 ing, and if, on the other hand, he repelled their 
 unjust assaults upon the South, he was, at once 
 branded as an unreconstructed rebel. Many South- 
 ern men, too, of bitter memories, were quick to re- 
 sent his conciliatory bearing toward the Northern 
 people. They stigmatized it, as mean truckling to 
 the conqueror. They were yet standing by the 
 grave of the Lost Cause, and were readj r in petulant 
 grief to smite those who spoke a kindly word of 
 those who caused its downfall. 
 
 As an example of the cruel injustice which he 
 met in the house of his friends, I may mention that 
 Dr. Jeter was an ardent friend of the American 
 Baptist Publication Society. He did not hesitate to 
 commend it to the support of Southern Baptists. 
 For this he was openly charged with corruption. It 
 was said that the Herald had been purchased by 
 that society, and Dr. Jeter was a mere agent for 
 bringing to it the patronage of the South, — a deadly 
 slander unrelieved by a grain of truth, and aimed 
 against a man who was above all price. 
 
 But he won his crown at last. In standing forth 
 as the champion of peace and brotherhood, he was 
 far ahead of the bulk of his brethren, on both sides 
 of the line. He stood between the contending sec- 
 tions, and though raked by a double fire, he worked 
 and waited. By degrees, a sense of justice and the 
 prevailing love of Christ drew about him, good men 
 from both directions. Unable to maintain their ex- 
 treme positions, they gradually drew nearer together, 
 and thus found themselves in his company. His at- 
 
400 LIFE OF JEREMTAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 titude of conservatism and conciliation, became the 
 rallying-ground for all parties, and he was at length 
 recognized as a chief among the apostles of peace 
 and good-will. 
 
 It is not claiming too much for him to say that 
 he wielded a national influence in reviving a kindly 
 spirit between the North and South. The Baptists 
 led the van in the march to reconciliation, and with 
 that he had much to do. Other denominations came 
 on later, having been greatly stimulated in their de- 
 sire for harmony by the example of the Baptists. 
 Dr. Jeter led the Baptists, and the Baptists led the 
 others. 
 
 Let me not claim too much for him. He needs 
 no unmerited honor. Justice requires me to say 
 that there were Baptist editors, in both sections of 
 the country who, like him, were magnanimous, cour- 
 ageous and brotherly. They share with him the 
 honor of having exorcised the sectional demon and 
 of ushering in the era of good feeling. In doing jus- 
 tice to him, I would not wrong them. 
 
 It is generally known that Dr. Jeter openly favored 
 an organic reunion among the American Baptists. 
 He expressed more than once the hope that he might 
 live to see all lines of separation blotted out, and the 
 entire brotherhood merged into one body. He said 
 that as Providence had removed slavery, which was 
 the original cause of the division, there was no longer 
 any sufficient reason for their remaining apart. He 
 died without realizing his hopes; but he lived to see 
 the end of alienation and strife. He believed that 
 the two sections would have re-united but for the 
 
IN THE EDITORIAL CHAIR. 401 
 
 conviction that they could more effectively serve the 
 Redeemer by preserving intact their several organ- 
 izations. 
 
 His conservative spirit was infused into the Bap- 
 tist journalism of the country. It is true that he 
 had some rough tilts with his editorial brethren on 
 sectional questions. They often eclipsed him in 
 brilliant sarcasm and scathing epithet; but they 
 could not spoil his temper nor overthrow his pacific 
 policy. Smite him as they would, he moved serenely 
 forward upon his chosen path, and paused not till 
 the Angel of Peace had returned to the land. In 
 his last years he towered among his brethren, victo- 
 rious in his heavenly work, revered by good men 
 everywhere, and wore a crown which, without the 
 asking, had been placed upon his head by the friends 
 of God. 
 
 What has been said in former chapters, together 
 with the large amount of his own writing contained 
 in this volume, relieves me of the necessity of dis- 
 cussing at length Dr. Jeter's chief points as a writer. 
 
 It is worthy of mention that he was famous for 
 his beautiful chirography. His handwriting was 
 characteristic — smooth, round, open and easy to read. 
 It contained no flourishes, was stained by few blots, 
 and even its corrections were distinct and legible. 
 If he wrote a wrong word, and had to mark it out, 
 he marked it out utterly. It was well-nigh impos- 
 sible to decipher his blotted words. He did not 
 write rapidly, — indeed, he was not nervously rapid 
 in any of his movements, — but he moved his pen 
 with a steady, vigorous hand, and could accomplish, 
 26 
 
402 LIFE OF JEEEMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 in his deliberate way, as much as more rapid scribes. 
 His manuscripts were things of beauty, a feast to a 
 printer's eye. He rarely abbreviated, and knew no- 
 thing of the arbitrary symbols with which many 
 composers distress the printers. His handwriting 
 was as steady, and graceful to the very last of his 
 working life, as it was in the days of his youth. 
 
 He composed with extraordinary facility. He 
 had the habit of thinking out his editorials, before 
 leaving his bed, in the morning. He was not an 
 early riser, though he slept so soundly during the 
 night, that he always awoke early, and before the 
 house was astir, he gave his morning thoughts to 
 his work. He had, in an eminent degree, the power 
 of thinking through a subject, and framing it men- 
 tally, before committing it to paper. He could do 
 it so finely, that often when he took up his pen he 
 knew every sentence, and almost every word that 
 he intended to write. He could think with his pen, 
 but his best thinking was done without it. At the 
 end of his mental processes he simply summoned 
 his pen, as an ever-obedient servant, to marshall into 
 orderly form the soldiery of his brain. As a con- 
 sequence, he did not often rewrite ; some of his long- 
 est articles were finished at a sitting. 
 
 His editorial leaders, as a rule, were masterjDieces. 
 They dealt with living problems, and their discus- 
 sion was methodical, logical and comprehensive. Of 
 one of his editorials, a celebrated teacher said that 
 it illustrated almost every logical form of argument. 
 His traits, as a writer, rendered him attractive to 
 the cultivated and intelligible to the simple-minded. 
 
IN THE EDITORIAL CHAIR. 403 
 
 It is nonsense to claim that a man cannot under- 
 stand English without an acquaintance with its 
 kindred tongues. Dr. Jeter was not a classical 
 scholar, but he was one of the finest English scholars 
 that our country has produced. As for his acquaint- 
 ance with words, it would hardly be too much to 
 say that he had the dictionary at his tongue's end. 
 He knew the uses, the shades of meaning and the 
 peculiar forces of words. He rarely failed to use 
 the exact word that would express most forcibly his 
 meaning. The result was a lucid, perspicuous and 
 almost radiant style. He set his thought out in 
 such perfect diction, that it glittered like a diamond. 
 He could say what he wished to say, — say it just as 
 it ought to be said, and in terms that could not be 
 misunderstood. There may have been a possible 
 lack of fancy in his style, — that delicate weird charm 
 which some writers possess ; but there was an apt- 
 ness and simplicity which always relieved him of 
 tameness. 
 
 To his transparency of statement he added a 
 peculiar grace. There was a smoothness, an easy 
 rippling flow in the current of his thought, a warmth 
 and freshness, which enkindled attention and en- 
 chained interest. One could not read thoughtfully 
 what he said without experiencing a pleasant men- 
 tal exaltation. He lifted, while he charmed his 
 readers. Not that he produced that dreamy, deli- 
 cious impression, pleasing for the moment, and then 
 speedily fading. His style possessed a certain deli- 
 cate vigor which drove his thought deep into the 
 mind of the reader. What he said or wrote never 
 
404 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 produced the highest excitement, but it had a singu- 
 lar penetration. It went into the mind, and became 
 riveted into the memory. He cut to the core of his 
 subject and to the heart of his reader. He stormed 
 the strongholds and planted his standards in the cita- 
 del of the soul. 
 
 There was a dignity in his utterances which, while 
 not easy to describe, was universally confessed. He 
 moved on an elevated plane, spoke in calm and lofty 
 words, and always brought a message worthy of re- 
 spect. He never indulged in trivial and unseemly 
 thoughts. At times his articles were touched with 
 sarcasm, glinted with humor, or aglow with passion. 
 But speak as he might, it was the voice of a master. 
 
 His princeliest charm as a writer was earnestness. 
 He was a man with a message — which burned in his 
 bones, and the heat of the flame went out in his 
 words. It seemed impossible for him to meddle 
 with a matter which did not grapple his deeper 
 nature and call forth his strong feeling. His edito- 
 rials were fragrant with religious unction. They 
 were sermons in print. In other places I have had 
 occasion to mention his boldness. His valiant spirit 
 gave courage to his style. Defiant and overbearing 
 he could not be, but in every word he wrote there 
 appeared a man who believed something, and who 
 was not afraid to say it. 
 
 In a word, Dr. Jeter was a Christian editor. He 
 wrote on Christian themes in a Christian spirit, and 
 with a dominant desire to honor Christ. This opinion 
 expressed, in fullest confidence finds, a pleasant echo 
 in the following words from Dr. John A. Broaddus : 
 
IN THE EDITORIAL CHAIR. 405 
 
 " I remember saying when he was gone, that after reading prob- 
 ably every article that he had published as editor, I recalled 
 no line which, as to the spirit of it, he need have regretted in his 
 dying hour. He was often assailed, sometimes harshly; he 
 defended himself most manfully ; he stood up squarely for truth, 
 and squarely against what he regarded as error ; but the tone 
 and spirit were always such as became a Christian. May all of 
 us who write in religious journals be specially helped by Divine 
 grace as we strive to imitate this example." 
 
 In closing the review of the Doctor's editorial 
 record, I must express regret that I cannot add to its 
 interest by more numerous extracts from his editorials. 
 I append two fragments, the taste of which will 
 revive in many the happy recollection of weekly 
 feasts which he used to spread for them in his col- 
 umns. 
 
 THE INCOMPREHENSIBLE. 
 
 " Man knows but little. With all his genius, learning, studies, ex- 
 perience and reputation he is but a sciolist. He cannot comprehend 
 himself. He is curiously and wonderlully made. His body is a 
 machine of the most intricate and delicate structure. No anatomist 
 or physiologist can fully understand the complex organism or its 
 mysterious functions. Who can explain life or growth or any of the 
 bodily senses? The mind is more incomprehensible than the body. 
 Is it a product of matter — a mere function of the brain — or has it a 
 higher and nobler origin? Where is the link that binds it to the 
 body? Whence its lofty aspirations after happiness? its longings 
 for immortality? its Teachings after the infinite? 
 
 If man cannot comprehend himself, much less can he comprehend 
 the universe of which he is but an atom. Whether it be examined 
 through the microscope, the telescope or the spectroscope, its wonders 
 are countless and overwhelming. How was matter created out of 
 nothing. Whence are the laws, so silent, pervasive, powerful and 
 uniform, that bind and move the planets in their orbits, and keep the 
 myriad stars in their proper spheres. No scientist can fathom the 
 mysteries of a single atom; how, then, can he comprehend the in- 
 finite variety, the boundless extent, and the surpassing splendors of a 
 universe, only the suburbs of which can be explored by the mightiest 
 telescope? 
 
 The Creator is greater than the Universe. We infer the skill of 
 an artist from the beauty and perfection of his work — the genius and 
 taste of an architect from the grandeur and completeness of the 
 building which he rears. 
 
406 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 This reasoning cannot deceive us. Its soundness is confirmed by the 
 experience of all mankind. How incomprehensible, then, must be the 
 perfections of that Being, whose wisdom planned, whose power 
 created, sustains and governs, and whose goodness bountifully sup- 
 plies with comforts the illimitable universe! 
 
 We firmly believe that God exists. Everything within us and 
 around us proclaims the being of a Creator. Man is the wisest 
 creature with whom we are acquainted ; and there is a wisdom dis- 
 played in every animal, in every plant, and in every ray of the sun, 
 entirely above his comprehension. We cannot ascribe this wisdom 
 to unconscious matter without stultifying ourselves. We are con- 
 strained by the very constitution of our nature to attribute this 
 wisdom to a Being of infinitely higher intelligence than man ; and 
 this Being is God. 
 
 How little do we know or can we know of God? The finite can- 
 not comprehend the infinite. Whence came God? He exists of 
 necessity we are told ; and to that conclusion reason conducts us. 
 Whence this necessity? Necessity implies causation; but God is 
 uncaused. Necessity is a law; and a law implies a law-giver; but 
 what law-giver antedated the existence of God? Was being a neces- 
 sity? Might there not have been eternal nothingness? God existed 
 from eternity; but was matter eternal? If it is, then it was not 
 created. Like the self-existent mind that governs the universe, it was 
 from everlasting. If it was created, then it had a beginning. If it 
 had a beginning, then God existed before the universe. If He existed 
 before matter, then, however far back in the mysterious depths of 
 eternity we may date the beginning. He dwelt in solitude an infinite 
 period, anterior to creation. Why this delay of creation? Why any 
 creation, if God from eternity existed alone in infinite bliss? 
 Had there been no matter, no spirit, no God, would there not have 
 been space and duration? Had there been no intelligence, would it 
 not still have been true that if matter were still in existence, the 
 whole. would be greater than a part? 
 
 Charnock, speaking of the incomprehensibility of God, says : 
 He that fills heaven and earth cannot be contained in any- 
 thing; fills the understandings of men, the understandings of 
 angels, but is comprehended by neither; there is no measuring of 
 an infinite being; if it were to be measured, it were not infinite; but 
 because it is infinite, it is not measured. 
 
 God sits above the cherubims (Ex. 10 : 1), above the fullness, above 
 the brightness, not only of a human, but of a created understanding. 
 Nothing is more present than God, yet nothing more hid ; He is light 
 and yet obscurity ; His perfections are visible, yet unsearchable ; we 
 know there is an infinite God, but it surpasses the compass of our 
 minds. These speculations are in perfect harmony with the teach- 
 ings of the Scriptures. Job says: "Canst thou by searching find out 
 God? Canst thou find out the Almighty unto perfection? It is as 
 high as Heaven; what canst thou do? deeper than hell:" what 
 canst thou know ? the measure thereof is longer than the earth, and 
 broader than the sea. The Psalmist says : " Great is our Lord, and 
 of great power ; his understanding is infinite.'' Paul says: "Othe 
 depth of the riches, both of the wisdom and knowledge of God ! how 
 unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding out!" 
 
IN THE EDITORIAL CHAIR. 407 
 
 We have indulged in these speculations, we trust, in no irreverent 
 spirit. They are adapted to teach us our ignorance. A conscious 
 sense of ignorance lies at the foundation of all true wisdom. " If any 
 man think that he knoweth anything," is wise in his own conceit, 
 self-confident, "he knoweth nothing as he ought to know," his 
 knowledge is superficial and inefficacious, puffing him up rather than 
 humbling him. Surely, meditation on the incomprehensibleness of 
 ourselves, all things around us, and the infinite Being, of whom, and 
 though whom and to whom, are all things, will make us modest and 
 self-distrustful if any means can. The more we know God and His 
 ways, the more profoundly shall we be convinced of our ignorance 
 and fallibility. 
 
 These speculations should teach us the narrow boundary of human 
 knowledge. A child may ask questions which no philosopher can 
 answer. The knowledge of the most learned men is as an atom com- 
 pared with infinity. Fortunately it is not essential to our piety, our 
 happiness or our usefulness, that we should understand the mysteries 
 of nature and of Providence. The knowledge necessary to guide us 
 concerning our interests and our duties lies within a narrow com- 
 pass. 
 
 All knowledge is good, if rightly used ; but only the knowledge of 
 the things that make for our peace is indispensable. To gain this, not 
 genius and high culture, but an humble teachable spirit is demanded. 
 All true wisdom is from above. "If any of you lack wisdom," says 
 James, "let him ask of God, that giveth to all liberally, and up- 
 braideth not; and it shall be given him." He is the great Teacher, 
 in whose school the dullest may be taught, and the brightest genius 
 may feel his ignorance. They are wise whom God instructs, and 
 all are fools besides. 
 
 Knowledge is progressive. What Jesus said to Simon Peter, with 
 reference to a particular subject, admits of a general application : 
 "What I do thou knowest not now; but thou shalt know hereafter." 
 In the present life, many things which are dark at one time, become, 
 by observation, experience and the teaching of Divine Providence, 
 clear. It is, however, in the future state, that our knowledge shall 
 be perfected. " For we know in part, and we prophesy in part. But 
 when that which is perfect shall come ; then that which is in part 
 shall be done away. For now we see through a glass darkly; but 
 then face to face." A thousand subjects, dim and mysterious in the 
 present life, will be plain in the light of eternity. But even in 
 Heaven our knowledge, perfect as compared with our present ignor- 
 ance, will be far from perfect as compared with omniscience. The 
 finite cannot grasp the infinite. The saints in glory will probably 
 have a profounder sense of the meagreness of their knowledge than 
 they can possibly have on earth, and will ascribe all " wisdom," as 
 well as "honor and power and might," unto "God forever and ever." 
 Some things, however, we certainly know on earth. " The living 
 know that they must die." To this solemn, momentous truth they 
 cannot shut their eye. It stares them in the face in every grave- 
 yard, every funeral procession, and in every undertaker's shop. 
 Every man knows, if he is not steeped in depravity, that he is a sin- 
 ner. The evidence of this truth is inefFaoeably inscribed on his heart. 
 His own conscience proves his guilt. Whatsoever else he may need, 
 
408 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 he needs salvation. It is his supreme want. Happy are they who 
 can say with Paul: I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded 
 that he is able to keep that which I have committed unto him against 
 that day. They may be ignorant of science, philosophy, literature, 
 and have but a small measure of worldly wisdom ; but they are wise 
 unto salvation, understand the science of redemption, and have 
 learned the art of living to the glory of God. 
 
 As Dr. Jeter's connection with the Italian Mission 
 fell within the period of his editorial life, I insert 
 here a brief account of it. 
 
 SPECIAL COMMISSIONERS TO ROME. 
 
 On the 21st of June, 1872, Dr. Jeter was appointed by the 
 Foreign Mission Board of the Southern Baptist Convention, as a 
 special Commissioner to Rome, to supervise their Baptist Mission. 
 It was remarkable, indeed, that he, then seventy years of age, 
 should have been summoned to duty, as a foreign missionary. I 
 regret that an event, so deeply interesting in European missions, 
 and so full of honor to him, cannot receive a full notice in these 
 pages. 
 
 It must suffice to say, that in 1870, the Baptists of the South 
 established a mission in Southern Europe. They appointed Dr. 
 W. N. Cote as a missionary to Italy. He established his head- 
 quarters in Rome, being the first Protestant evangelist to enter 
 that city, after its occupation by the army of King Emanuel. He 
 selected several assistants and promptly began his work. So 
 brilliant was his success in the outset, and so glowing his reports, 
 that the American Baptists were led to believe, that the gospel of 
 Christ was to win an easy and speedy triumph, in the stronghold 
 of Papacy. Churches were established in several Italian cities, 
 colporteurs and missionaries were appointed, accessions were nu- 
 merous and the outlook most cheering. 
 
 In March, 1872, Giovanni B. Gioja was baptized. He was a 
 man of varied gifts and accomplishments — a famous linguist and 
 already of good repute as a Christian worker. It was confidently 
 anticipated, that with him and Cote as yoke-fellows, the w 7 ork 
 would grow, with even increased rapidity. Baptists of the North 
 joined heartily with their Southern brethren in raising money to 
 build a Baptist chapel in Rome. 
 
IN THE EDITORIAL CHAIR. 409 
 
 It soon appeared, however, that the affairs of the Italian Mis- 
 sion were suffering through the indiscretion of its leaders. In 
 this exigency, the Foreign Mission Board decided that it was in- 
 dispensably necessary to place in Rome, an American missionary 
 whose piety, wisdom and business qualifications could be fully 
 trusted. Under this action, Dr. Jeter received his appointment. 
 
 This summons fell upon him as a great surprise, and filled him 
 with embarrassment. He was then an old man, unable to speak 
 the Italian language, and never set his foot on European soil, 
 burdened with editorial duties, and not specially adapted to the 
 type of work which the position required. He expressed grave 
 misgivings as to his suitableness to the work. But he did not 
 know how to deny the wishes of his brethren. He said that he 
 seriously doubted the wisdom of his appointment, but then mod- 
 estly added that while he could not do anything well, he had 
 never utterly failed in anything which he undertook, except 
 poetry-making. 
 
 His commission imposed several duties. First of all, he was 
 requested to visit Great Britain and seek to enlist the English 
 Baptists in the European Mission. He sailed from his native 
 shore in 1872, accompanied by his wife. The departure of this 
 white-haired old servant of God, upon so solemn an errand, 
 touched many hearts, and awakened for him a gentle and prayer- 
 ful sympathy. He spent several months in traversing England, 
 Scotland and Wales, making addresses and appealing for help. 
 He was received everywhere with fraternal consideration, and 
 realized substantial help for the Italian field. 
 
 In London he met startling rumors of disorders in the Italian 
 Mission. He was told that the Baptist cause in Rome had be- 
 come a reproach to Protestantism. This alarmed him seriously, 
 and chilled the ardor of his attempts to arouse the sympathy of 
 the English Baptists. But he hoped for the best, and prose- 
 cuted his agency in England, until November, when he went to 
 Rome. 
 
 Upon his arrival, his worst fears were fully justified. He found 
 Dr. Cote and Gioja involved in disastrous strife. It was not a 
 mere rupture of kindly relations between conscientious and godly 
 men. It went deeper, and so seriously involved the influence of 
 
410 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D, 
 
 these two men, as to make it necessary, that they should retire 
 from the service of the Board. 
 
 Gioja was a man of immense cunning and malignity. When 
 he ascertained that Dr. Jeter had recommended his dismissal, he 
 was furious, and undertook, by appeals to popular prejudice, to 
 destroy him. He preferred against him, the charge of ecclesiasti- 
 cal tyranny, and instituted proceedings against him in the court. 
 In this work, it is said that he was abetted by some ostensible 
 friends of the mission. 
 
 Dr. Jeter became satisfied that plans were on foot for his arrest, 
 and saw that he was likely to be put at great disadvantage. After 
 consideration, and with the advice of friends, he quietly withdrew 
 from Rome and went to Geneva. This was evidently the dictate 
 of discretion. He was not afraid to do his duty, and a Roman 
 prison had no terrors for him, if it stood on the path of his duty. 
 But he was a cool-headed old gentleman, and had not a trace of 
 that fool-hardy courage which courts persecution for the sake of 
 notoriety. 
 
 The chief object of his appointment to Rome was to arrange 
 for the building of the Baptist chapel. That end he was not 
 able to accomplish. The whole amount, then in hand, for the 
 building did not much exceed twenty thousand dollars, and he 
 soon found that the purchase of an eligible lot would consume the 
 bulk of that sum. As he was not authorized to contract debt, he 
 sought to purchase a building suitable, as a habitation for the lit- 
 tle church. In this attempt he encountered great obstacles. 
 Questions of location, price and title sorely perplexed him, and 
 he finally retired from Rome without accomplishing the chief end 
 contemplated in his appointment. In two respects, however, his 
 wisdom proved most serviceable. He did not recklessly spend 
 the money of the Board, and he did preserve, intact, the Baptist 
 organization in Rome, w T hich was put in, supreme peril, by its dis- 
 cordant leaders. The Board Avas more than satisfied with the 
 manner in which he discharged his commission. 
 
 Dr. Jeter had long desired to visit the Old "World. Just after 
 the war, he planned a trip, but abandoned it, on account of an 
 " abnormal contraction of the sinews." Beyond doubt, he was 
 influenced in part to accept his appointment to Rome, by his 
 
IN THE EDITORIAL CHAIR. 41 1 
 
 desire to travel. That his sojourn in Europe had its pleasures, 
 and advantages is not to be doubted. But it was not a pleasure 
 trip by any means. He had little time for sight-seeing. He was 
 too busy to patronize ruins, art-galleries, or historic scenes. His 
 hands were full of work, and his brain was vexed by ceaseless 
 and blinding perplexities. In a single sentence he condenses the 
 history of his painful trials in Rome : 
 
 " In the whole course of my experience I have never found 
 myself more painfully perplexed, than I have been in regard to 
 the matters of the Rome Church." 
 
 In the later spring of 1873, the Board released 
 him from his engagement, and he returned to 
 America. By a happy coincidence he reached 
 Richmond on the day, for the assembling of the 
 great Baptist Memorial meeting, held June, 1873. 
 His first appearance before his brethren, was on the 
 stand in the mammoth Tabernacle, on the college 
 campus, in which the memorial services were held. 
 He stepped forward during the collection to pledge 
 his second thousand dollars for Richmond College. 
 When the great throng caught sight of his happy, 
 beaming face, they broke into grateful and tumultu- 
 ous applause. He gave his pledge and then said : 
 " Surely of all this crowd, I am the happiest man to- 
 day." 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 PERSONAL TRAITS. 
 
 IT is a long journey which we have taken in com- 
 pany with Dr. Jeter. Joining him, while yet a 
 
 child, in his Bedford home, we have attended 
 him along his course, watching his growth, and sur- 
 veying the scenes of his labors. Thus far, we have 
 dealt more with his conduct than with his character, 
 and have had more to do with his movements, than 
 with his motives. 
 
 We secure the fullest view of men when we 
 observe them from the double standpoint of what 
 they are, and what they do. We will turn, therefore, 
 from his history, to study Mm, as nature had made 
 him, and as art and grace had ennobled him. This 
 chapter will bring under review his endowments, 
 his habits and his social relations. While it is not 
 designed here, to touch particularly his christian 
 virtues, it will be found that, in him, the natural had 
 passed under the reign of the spiritual. 
 
 Dr Jeter's physique was absolutely superb. It 
 combined, in itself, almost every advantage that a 
 mere body could have. He was lofty and stately — 
 so much so that he towered like a giant among his 
 fellows. The old barbaric worship for bodily 
 strength and prowess has not entirely disappeared. 
 412 
 
PERSONAL TRAITS. 413 
 
 The world can never cease to admire majestic forms. 
 It is said that, when Dr. Jeter was in Paris, he and 
 another eminent American, also of magnificent pro- 
 portions, appeared one morning, on the street, in 
 company. They created a sensation. The curious 
 Parisians paused in groups, to observe them, and some 
 of them pursued them under the fancy that they 
 were the twin giants. 
 
 To a noble height he added erectness. His well- 
 braced shoulders, roundness of limb and easy 
 movement gave a pleasing grandeur to his bearing. 
 Toward the last, there was a slight droop — a leaning 
 forward, as he walked — but when he began to speak, 
 he instantly became erect. His face and neck were 
 long — too long to appear well — and this, with a too 
 sharp slanting of his shoulders, diminished the grace 
 of his outline when on the platform. His upper lip 
 was so excessively long that it was a theme of 
 mirthful jest. After meeting one of his sisters, I re- 
 marked to him that she resembled him. He knew 
 that the likeness was in their lips, and tacitly con- 
 fessed it, by saying: "My sister is a fine woman, but 
 over-endowed in the matter of an upper lip." His 
 character was in his lips. When he compressed 
 them together, they were very eloquent, though 
 silent, witnesses of his intense thought and prodigious 
 will. 
 
 During most of his life, he enjoyed superior health. 
 Now and then, he had local and temporary disorders, 
 and often suffered annoyance, from that "constitution- 
 al cough " which, for a long time, he believed would 
 end in consumption. But these things rarely laid 
 
414 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 him aside from, his work or depressed his spirits. 
 As a piece of machinery, his body was well-nigh 
 perfect. It ran smoothly for nearly eighty years, and 
 had immense force, for self-correction and re- 
 cuperation. 
 
 He descended from long-lived families, and evident- 
 ly inherited the vigor of his maternal ancestry and 
 the buoyant spirit of his father. He grew up in the 
 Piedmont, and was inured to the work of the plan- 
 tation. His youth was happily free from all 
 enfeebling vices. He had an innate respect for his 
 body. He studied the laws of hygiene, and sought 
 to apply them to his own case. He rarely fell sick, 
 and had an intense repugnance to strong medicines. 
 He never embraced the theory of the homoeopathists, 
 but he believed in their medicinal pellets, and often 
 used them. He said they were sure to cure him 
 when he was not much sick. 
 
 He was a model sleeper. He had his hours for 
 rest, and when his time came for going to bed, he 
 went, and when he went, he slept. It was a rule 
 with him, not to make bed-fellows of his troubles. 
 Before retiring, he spent a season in prayer, and cast 
 his cares upon the Lord. Unless out of health, he 
 speedily fell asleep, and rarely awoke until he had 
 slept enough. It was one of his sayings, that sleep 
 and prayer would solve the gravest problems. His 
 wife relates that, several years before his death, he 
 returned home, one evening in a state of painful 
 agitation. He had suddenly found himself involved 
 in a business embarrassment, so unexpected and 
 grievous, that he seemed to be quite unstrung. He 
 
PERSONAL TRAITS. 415 
 
 knew not what to do, and his anxiety imparted it- 
 self to his wife. At the hour for retiring, he cut 
 short the conversation, took his burden to the Lord, 
 lay down upon his bed, and was soon sleeping as 
 sweetly as a child. His wife tossed upon her pillow, 
 until, far in the night, she sank into unquiet slumber. 
 A little after daybreak, he aroused her, and in a 
 cheery voice said : " It is all right. I see my course 
 and will take it." That was the end of the trouble. 
 His pillow and the mercy seat had brought relief. 
 
 Dr. Jeter was a wise eater. He ate with a relish, 
 and energy which betokened a keen appetite. He 
 was not a bit fastidious, and said that he liked almost 
 every species of food, except sturgeon. His digestive 
 organs once had a tilt with that sea monster, which 
 proved to be a life-long discomfiture. He could 
 not afterwards taste or smell sturgeon, without 
 the utmost revulsion. He rarely ate anything 
 except at his meals, and then he partook sumptuously 
 and with marked enjoyment. He seemed to have no 
 temptation to eat to excess. 
 
 In his later life he set high value upon recreation, as 
 an indispensable feature in the economy of life. He 
 was about as devout in resting, as he was in praying. 
 
 One of his modes of exercise was walking. He 
 was fond of it, and being long-limbed and quick- 
 jointed, he walked with great rapidity. He had a 
 pedestrian pride, which made him anxious to out- 
 walk those who indicated a pity for him, on account 
 of the supposed infirmities of age. He retained his 
 alertness, as a walker to the last, and was never slow 
 to exhibit his speed when occasion offered. 
 
416 ' LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 A well-known citizen of Richmond relates, that in 
 going down into the city, one morning, he met the old 
 Doctor, and they walked along in company. Find- 
 ing that he was moving at a rapid pace, the gentle- 
 man checked himself and apologized. He remarked 
 that he had such a reputation among his friends 
 for fast walking, that they avoided him, lest they 
 should wear themselves out to keep up with him. He 
 slackened his speed, and proposed to walk slowly for 
 the Doctor's benefit. That put the old man on his 
 mettle. He said, that he was not aware, that they 
 were walking fast at all, and added, in a bantering 
 tone, that as the gentleman was light of foot, they 
 would move more briskly. He quickened his step, 
 and with long and swinging strides, bore speedily 
 away, leaving his overmatched companion to bring 
 up the rear. The gentleman says, that they had not 
 gone far, before he found himself afflicted with such 
 a pain in his ankles, that he forged an excuse for 
 taking another street. 
 
 Dr. Jeter was devoted to horseback exercise. It 
 could hardly be expected, that one of his build would 
 attain any grace as an equestrian, but he sat his horse 
 with handsome ease, and cut a fine figure, as in the 
 morning, on his well-groomed gray, he clashed down 
 into the city, or went, cantering out on the avenues, 
 in the afternoon. He was proud of his gray steed, 
 almost as well-known in the city as his master, but 
 Pearl, as he called him, served him a sorry trick, one 
 day, by not only falling with him, but upon him. 
 That event came near turning his recreation into a 
 catastrophe. 
 
PERSONAL TRAITS. 417 
 
 But his favorite amusement was croquet. For 
 indulging in that game he was much criticised, and 
 some of his brethren regarded it, as a sad breach of 
 christian propriety. They grievously misjudged 
 him. He often suffered with headache and brain 
 torpor, and found that some exercise was a necessity. 
 Croquet suited him exactly. It threw him into the 
 open air, required quick and incessant motion, gave 
 him pleasant company, and aroused his passion for 
 contest. Primarily he played for exercise, and he 
 said, it mattered not who got the game, provided he 
 got his recreation. 
 
 But he played to beat. He entered the struggle 
 with the ardor of a boy, and relished a triumph as 
 keenly as any man I ever saw, and when absorbed 
 in a game, was oblivious of all besides. He was once 
 in a game with several gentlemen, and had every- 
 thing working in his favor. He was intensely inter- 
 ested, and while playing, he caught another ball, and 
 roqueted it, sending both balls whirling across the 
 yard, and setting out in a double-quick after them. 
 Unluckily, his foot hung in a wicket, and he stumbled, 
 and fell to the ground. It was a jarring, racking 
 fall. He groaned, and rubbed his limbs with such 
 evident pain, that the company gathered in anxious 
 sympathy around him. It was feared, that he was 
 seriously hurt, but he brought matters to a sudden 
 and ludicrous end, by excitedly asking " Where is my 
 ball?" 
 
 He was an honest player. He would have robbed 
 a bank as soon as he would have taken the slightest 
 advantage in a game of croquet. He would not con- 
 27 
 
418 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.J). 
 
 tend over doubtful questions, and, though sometimes, 
 pitted against fretful and discourteous antagonists, he 
 never lost his temper. He was once playing a game 
 with a cross and ill-natured woman, who charged his 
 side with dishonesty. He bore it with serene dignity, 
 until the game ended, and then quietly withdrew, 
 without a word of comment. 
 
 His character came out admirably on the croquet- 
 ground. The game finely illustrated his mental 
 peculiarities. He struck with singular accuracy, and 
 few surpassed him in making the wickets. Those 
 were simple, straightforward things. He worked 
 steadily to gain the post, and failed to take into 
 account, the difficulties which his enemies might 
 throw in his way. He never evinced much skill, in 
 planning the game, and if left to himself, often fell a 
 victim to the superior adroitness of his adversaries. 
 But I was often struck with the fact, that his plod- 
 ding, direct playing, while sometimes interrupted by 
 the tricks of the other side, bore him along, and not 
 seldom, to victory. He gained about as much, from 
 the miscarriages of his more scheming antagonists, as 
 he lost by his own lack of strategic skill. And this, 
 indeed, was the way in which he won his highest 
 successes in the more solemn contests of life. His 
 simplicity overmatched the shrewdness of his oppo- 
 nents. After all, though many glory in the arts of 
 indirection, it remains morally, as well as mathemati- 
 cally, true that a straight line is the shortest distance 
 between two points. He played croquet on christian 
 principles, and so conscientious was he, that he once 
 said that he could go, without dread, from the cro- 
 quet-ground to the judgment bar of God. 
 
PERSONAL TRAITS. 419 
 
 In the matter of dress, Dr. Jeter was an example. 
 He had an ambition to appear well, and insisted that 
 ministers ought to dress attractively. He enjoyed 
 good clothes, and seemed a little conscious, when well 
 arrayed. He always clung to broadcloth, and I 
 cannot recall that I ever saw him wear any kind of 
 hat, except a beaver. He wore upright collars and the 
 old-time stock — probably in compassion for his elon- 
 gated neck. He did his best dressing in his last 
 days — partly, because he could better afford it, but 
 chiefly, I suppose, because stimulated by the superior 
 taste and loving authority of his wife. 
 
 In temperament, Dr. Jeter was mercurial. He had 
 French blood in his veins, which may have given 
 that volatility to his nature, which so strongly 
 marked him. There was something strangely unique 
 in his varying moods. His exultation was real, and 
 often amounted to rapture. He was capable of the 
 highest exhilaration. And then he could drop very 
 low. He could groan with an unction that was pos- 
 itively refreshing. There was, however, a glimmer 
 of sunlight over his sadness. The only half-hearted 
 thing about him was his misery. He could not pro- 
 duce a strong case of melancholy. His lamp of 
 hope burned dimly, at times, but never went out. If 
 he began to grow gloomy, he soon came in sight of 
 the ludicrous. His ordinary trials seemed to have a 
 sportive side. During the war, he was with several 
 ministers who were deploring the apathy, and dearth 
 among the churches. They spoke dismally of their 
 own religious states, and seemed on the verge of de- 
 spair. Dr. Jeter sat silent, his face cast down, his 
 
420 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 eyes half-closed, a picture of despair. A brother 
 said : " Dr. Jeter, what have you to say about these 
 things?" His face took on a deeper shade as he 
 said : " I feel as if I had fallen from grace." It was 
 an odd speech, and surprised us, but it, at least, 
 made us all feel better. 
 
 Here is an incident decidedly characteristic : 
 
 This disposition to expose the laughable side of a serious thing 
 was very strong. It sometimes served him in rebuking the bad 
 tempers and exploding the prejudices of people. I was once with 
 him in a protracted meeting in the country. One day several 
 dogs got into the church and seriously disturbed the services. 
 The pastor was quite outraged. He fired a furious volley, at the 
 dogs and their owners, and seemed so disgusted, that he could not 
 be restored to composure. After we returned to his home in the 
 evening, he resumed the subject, evidently to the annoyance of 
 Dr. Jeter, who suddenly proposed to deliver a lecture in behalf 
 of dogs. He gave some capital stories about church-going dogs, 
 and made such a kindly plea for the canine race, that the irate 
 pastor was squelched. 
 
 Dr. Jeter was not a wit, — a fact which he well 
 knew ; but he possessed a brimming, infectious and 
 kindly humor. He was fond of telling stories, espe- 
 cially those of the jocose and laughable type. He 
 excelled most in relating a grave incident which 
 contained a funny episode. 
 
 In his early days, he told many stories in which 
 others played the ludicrous part ; but he said that 
 he met his punishment, for thus parading human 
 frailties, in the fact, that his favorite anecdotes were 
 afterwards repeated far and wide with himself al- 
 ways put in as the ludicrous actor. 
 
 During a familiar association with him for more 
 
PERSONAL TRAITS. 421 
 
 than a quarter of a century, I never heard him utter 
 a word which savored of irreverence, indelicacy or 
 uncharitableness. 
 
 Many coarse anecdotes and sayings were attrib- 
 uted to him, which were utterly foreign to his na- 
 ture, and which, indeed, it would have been morally 
 impossible for him to utter. Nothing mortified him 
 more than to be reminded, that such tainted stories 
 were circulated with his spurious imprint upon them. 
 
 The Doctor was not much given to laughing, and 
 I must candidly admit, that his vocal infirmities 
 went far to deprive his laughter of its contagious 
 charm. His smile was magnificent, — so luminous 
 and expressive, that it not only clothed his counte- 
 nance with spiritual beauty, but spread a mellow 
 light on all about him. 
 
 He had one weakness which, while not peculiar 
 to him, was excessive in his case. When his risibles 
 were once shaken, he had no power to control them. 
 
 He was not easily provoked to laughter; but 
 when the humor struck him, laugh he would, regard- 
 less of propriety or consequences. Of this he gives 
 the following example : 
 
 " On my first visit to Richmond, an event occurred in which it is 
 hard to say whether the sad or comical predominated. I had in 
 Lynchburg formed the acquaintance of a Brother H. and his good 
 wife, who had removed to Richmond. They were poor, pious 
 and respectable. We were glad to meet after a year or two of 
 separation so far from the place where our intimacy commenced. 
 I was invited to dine with them, and readily accepted the invita- 
 tion. They occupied an upper story, the front room being a few 
 feet higher than the rear. The table was set in the front room, 
 near the door opening into the back one. The dinner was, no doubt, 
 
422 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 the best that the amiable family could provide. We had par- 
 taken of it heartily and were sitting at the board, engaged in 
 pleasant, social converse. By some chance, Sister H. lost her 
 balance and fell backwards through the door, and, in her fall, 
 grasping the table-cloth, carried all the table ware, with a crash, 
 on the depressed floor of the rear room. It was a sad accident. 
 The lady was painfully bruised, the crockery was broken and 
 the remnants of meats, pies and preserves were mingled in sor- 
 rowful confusion. To add to the trouble, Brother H. was in 
 feeble and declining health and little able to repair the damage 
 that had been done. The good man lamented his loss, and his 
 excellent wife, forgetful of all else, mourned over her pains and 
 bruises. I sympathized with them and could have wept over 
 their distress ; but the scene had a ludicrous as well as a sorrowful 
 aspect. I knew that laughing, under the circumstances, would 
 be unseemly and offensive. I resolved that I would not indulge 
 in it. I have, however, under strong temptation, never been able 
 to control my risible faculties. On this occasion I had a severe 
 struggle. I restrained my laughter as long as possible, put my 
 head under the side of the table to conceal it, and finally burst 
 into a vociferous laugh. I was ashamed, mortified, humbled, but 
 had not the self-control to apologize for my rude and unseemly 
 behavior. Had I possessed the means, I would gladly have re- 
 stored the table-furniture, but the contents of my purse were almost 
 exhausted. I sympathized not the less with my friends because 
 I laughed at their ludicrous misfortune." 
 
 I insert here several stories illustrative of his 
 mirthful and mirth-provoking nature : 
 
 " During one of his later summers, he was at the Buffalo Lithia 
 Springs, a quiet, health resort in Southern Virginia. It was 
 one of the devout customs of the place, to have prayers in the 
 public parlors, every morning. On a certain occasion the Doctor 
 was requested to conduct the exercises. He selected for the 
 Scripture lesson the last chapter of Romans, which has much to 
 say about saluting the brethren and sisters. He paused to re- 
 mark at the end of the reading that the holy kiss was common in 
 
PERSONAL TRAITS. 423 
 
 apostolic days, but that it soon fell out of use. ' It was found, he 
 said : ' That the less devout of the brethren were disposed to salute 
 only the comely sisters and then the men would not salute each 
 other. A man kissed me when I was in Europe, but I confess, I 
 did not relish it.' " 
 
 " Dr. Jeter sometimes upset the gravity of the meeting by his 
 remarks when he had no thought of doing so. In 1879 the Gen- 
 eral Association met in Danville, Va. When, on the first even- 
 ing the organization was completed, it was proposed to have a 
 season of prayer. A brother suggested that we pray especially 
 for our brethren who were kept away by affliction. He spoke of 
 the sickness of Dr. C. and Dr.W., and then said : ' It may not be 
 known that our honored brother, Dr. B., passed through Danville 
 to-day from the South, bringing the remains of his mother to be 
 buried at the old homestead in Virginia.' It was a hushed and 
 tender moment — too much so for Dr. Jeter. He arose and sought 
 to soothe the sorrow of the brethren. ' It is very proper,' he said, 
 ' to sympathize with the afflicted, but it is well to know the facts, 
 so as not to sorrow over much. As for Dr. C, he is not sick much ; 
 I saw him yesterday. And as for Dr. W., I think he will be 
 here to-morrow, and as for Dr. B., it is not his mother who is dead 
 but his mother-in-law.' The effect of his speech was an explosion. 
 It quite mortified him, and knocked the solemnity out of the 
 meeting. He never saw the joke." 
 
 " He sometimes did a serious thing in a comical way. I recall 
 an instance. There was a meeting held one evening, not long be- 
 fore his death, at the Grace Street Church, in the interest of tem- 
 perance. He was not one of the appointed speakers, but was 
 present, and, just before the close of the exercises, was invited to 
 offer some remarks. The call was quite unexpected, and he 
 walked slowly upon the lower platform, holding his hat in one 
 hand and his cane in the other. He began to talk in a slow, in- 
 formal style, resting his hand upon his cane, but soon he became 
 animated. It was impossible for him to speak without gesture. 
 As he warmed to his subject he gradually lifted his hand and 
 with it, of course, his cane. To his long arm was added the 
 length of the cane, and when he got fully under way he used his 
 cane in the wildest and most vigorous gesticulation. At one mo- 
 
424 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 ment he would point it into the audience, as if he had a man before 
 him that he proposed to castigate on the spot, and then lifting it he 
 would whirl it in the air as if he had discovered a new victim for 
 his vengeance in the gallery. I doubt whether human gesture ever 
 swept so large a circle before or since as his did that night. It 
 was very laughable, and yet decidedly impressive." 
 
 " Dr. Jeter's greatness was most strikingly exhibited in his idio- 
 syncrasies and mistakes. He never committed a commonplace 
 blunder. In doing what he ought not to have done, he did it so as 
 to leave upon the act, the impress of his character. His weaknesses 
 were the signs of his strength. It was easy to smile at his slips, 
 but not at him. At times his blunders upset him, leaving him 
 vacuous and silent. This was not always so ; often he would re- 
 cover speedily and turn the laugh in another direction. He once 
 arose to speak in the Southern Baptist Convention. It was his 
 first apearance on the floor at that meeting, and every eye was on 
 him. In attempting to call a brother's name he made a mistake 
 so odd and surprising that the house roared with laughter. He 
 stood sober and serene until the noise ceased, and then smilingly 
 remarked : ' If mistakes were hay-stacks some of us might start a 
 feed-store.' " 
 
 " At a church-meeting, two brethren were nominated for a place 
 on a committee. He put the vote on the nominee thus : ' Those 
 in favor of brother B. say ' Aye," those in favor of brother P. say 
 'No.' ' This, of course, created amusement, and it was finally de- 
 cided to add both men to the committee. As this made it an 
 even number some brother objected, and nominated brother R., 
 so as to have an odd number. Dr. Jeter at once, and with feigned 
 gravity said : " Those in favor of making the committee odd by 
 putting brother R. on it will please say 'Aye.' " 
 
 " The story seems to be authentic that he once solemnly pro- 
 posed to close a meeting by singing the benediction and pronoun- 
 cing the Doxology." 
 
 I cannot speak at any great length of the intel- 
 lectual endowments of Dr. Jeter. As his produc- 
 tions have passed into the hands of the public, they 
 must stand as the exponents of his mental forces. 
 
PERSONAL TRAITS. 425 
 
 A few paragraphs only can be devoted to the discus- 
 sion of these qualities. 
 
 Dr. Jeter was not a genius, if, by this term, we 
 understand some extraordinary talent for a particu- 
 lar line of work. He had really no salient, over- 
 shadowing faculty which made him, exceptionally 
 strong, in any one direction. His strength lay not in 
 one gift nor in several, but in the variety, vigor and 
 balance of his powers. He was not phenomenally 
 strong at any point; but then he was not weak at any 
 point: He was strong everywhere, and in the com- 
 bination of so many mental forces, he was very strong. 
 
 It was commonly said that he was feeblest in his 
 imagination. This I never believed, and those who 
 read his "Christian Mirror" and kindred writings 
 would be slow to embrace such a view. In his old 
 age, he was afraid to trust his imagination. He suf- 
 fered so many disasters, in his vivid and pictorial 
 sermons, that he gradually became afraid to indulge 
 in that style of preaching. He drew his pictures 
 with admirable distinctness and delicacy, and had 
 them clear in his own mind ; but he often failed in 
 presenting them. His imagination was cowed, by 
 public miscarriages, and in his maturer life, was not 
 kept on active duty. 
 
 But he had a really strong and active imagina- 
 tion. It was vigorous in its power to conceive, com- 
 bine and construct. His conceptions were clear; his 
 combinations were simple and harmonious, and his 
 structures were symmetrical and complete. In his 
 youth, before he had become so deeply chastened by 
 his failures, his imagination had intense grip and glow. 
 
426 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 Mr. Sands relates that Dr. Jeter once preached a 
 sermon at the First Church, in which he described 
 the Grecian races. He says that his pictures were 
 so graphic and brilliant, that they brought the whole 
 scene before the audience, in a manner, that was ab- 
 solutely thrilling. In 1862 I heard him preach his 
 famous sermon on Onesiphorus. It was in a country 
 church, and to a small and plain-minded congregation. 
 His description of the judgment day was wonderful 
 in its vividness, and impressed the people almost as 
 deeply, as if the real scene had been before them. 
 
 Dr. Jeter failed to cultivate faithfully his imagina- 
 tion. His tastes took him in other directions. He 
 would have been a better preacher, if he had given 
 freer rein to his fancy. He was an advocate of de- 
 scriptive sermons, but he was afraid to try them. His 
 imagination worked better at his desk, than on the 
 platform. It occurred to me that his thin, and, at 
 times, inflexible voice was unfriendly to the noblest 
 performances of which his imagination was capable. 
 
 His mind was of the logical rather than of the 
 metaphysical order. For abstruse speculations he 
 had neither taste nor capacity, but for truth in the 
 concrete, and in its relations to other things, he j>os- 
 sessed a rare power of apprehension. Dr. A. B. Brown 
 said, very finery, of him that he had no great gift for 
 splitting a hair, but that he knew as well as any liv- 
 ing man when there was a hair to split, and how it 
 ought to be done. He always studied truth in its 
 roundness and in its most delicate shadings. He 
 could tell a thing exactly as it was. 
 
 He thought very widely. Problems in almost 
 
PERSONAL TRAITS 427 
 
 every branch of human thought interested him. He 
 was often exercised about questions, in jurisprudence, 
 and he would ransack law-books, or invade the offices 
 of jurists in quest of light. There formerly lived in 
 Richmond, a lawyer who had a great name for erudi- 
 tion, and was supposed to be encyclopedian in forensic 
 lore. Dr. Jeter went to him with several knotty 
 questions, connected with the science of law, and 
 never in a single case, gained the desired information. 
 He had great reverence for experts and loved to 
 consult them, but the sequel often proved that he 
 was better posted than they were. 
 
 In a former chapter, much was said as to the 
 freakishness of his memory. In point of fact his 
 memory was wonderful. It laid hold upon facts read- 
 ily, and clung to them with a dogged tenacity. What 
 he once learned he rarely forgot. In reading his 
 " Recollections" one is made to feel that to him, the 
 past of his life was an open book. His recollections 
 of men were distinct, varied and vivid. The year 
 before his death I had him in company with Doctors 
 J. L. M. Curry, T. H. Pritchard, E. W. Warren and 
 others to a dinner-party at my house. That day we 
 succeeded in turning the old man's thoughts back- 
 ward to the great men whom he had known in the 
 earlier prime of his manhood. He summoned them 
 forth, as with a magician's wand, painted them with 
 such distinctness that they seemed to stand before 
 our eyes, and poured forth a torrent of incidents 
 which charmingly illustrated, what manner of men 
 they were. I recall now his portraiture of John 
 Kerr — with his grand form, his deep sonorous voice, 
 
428 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 his flaming fancy, preaching in a grove, in the face 
 of a stiff wind, on a raw, shivering day, and yet, so 
 intoxicating the people with his eloquence, that they 
 quit their seats, and packed in solid mass around the 
 platform. 
 
 His memory was not perfect, and he often lamented 
 his forii-etfulness. This is the misfortune of all 
 thoughtful men. Dr. Jeter was a constant learner, 
 and he retained unusually well his acquisitions. 
 His power to recall was excellent, except when on 
 the platform. When he sat down to write, the store- 
 house of the past seemed to be unlocked before him. 
 His pen was the wand, with which he called back just 
 such things as at that moment he happened to need. 
 
 He possessed in marvellous measure the power of 
 concentration. He could throw all of his mental 
 forces on a single point, and hold them there. When 
 deeply engaged in the study of some important 
 question, it was hard to call him away. He could 
 never treat an intruder with rudeness, but in many 
 nameless ways, he could satisfy him that he would enjoy 
 nothing, so much as his departure. Of course he had 
 to endure the reproach of absent-mindedness. Per- 
 sons who had very little mind, either present or 
 absent, were fond of expatiating on the old doctor's 
 absent-mindedness. His mind was often absent 
 from those people, but it was happily present with 
 other and more congenial things. If some favorite 
 theme possessed him, he took it with him into the 
 street, or upon the train and tugged at it in the 
 midst of his journeys. Now and then, he talked to 
 himself in tones easily audible to others, but it was 
 
PERSONAL TRAITS. 429 
 
 always on deep and valuable topics. While in those 
 moods, he would walk by his dearest friends, without 
 speaking, or even seeing them, and, sometimes with- 
 out speaking, even when he saw them. 
 
 His intellectual enthusiasm, intense in youth, 
 knew no abatement in age. He never grew weary 
 of investigation. He was always on the trail of 
 thought. He studied to the last, and with a zeal as 
 fresh and thirsty as that which distinguished him as 
 a boy. In the current events of the times he took 
 the liveliest interest. If there was a war in Asia, 
 he could not rest until he had acquainted himself 
 with the causes of the strife, the parties involved, 
 and the fortunes of the struggle. If a new discovery, 
 or invention was announced, he went to work to find 
 out its author, and its merits. He kept posted as to 
 public affairs. He was acquainted with the history 
 and constitution of our country — watched the move- 
 ments of political parties, and felt the deepest con- 
 cern as to the welfare of the State. When he died, 
 his body was placed in the Grace Street Church that 
 those who desired, might take a last look. Among 
 those who came was Mr. Holliday, then Governor of 
 Virginia, who, when he stood by his coffin, said ; 
 " Here lies the man, by whose counsel and sympathy, 
 I have been more strongly sustained, in my official 
 duties, than by any other man in Virginia." What 
 he thought ought to be done, he fearlessly advocated, 
 and looked upon public officers, as the servants of 
 the people, through whom he might promote the 
 public good. 
 
 Dr. Jeter had a will of his own — not of steel but 
 
430 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 of iron. If he had been a man without reverence 
 and humility, he would have made a superb tyrant. 
 Truth had enlightened him, grace had softened him, 
 and reason swayed him. And yet he was not easy 
 to conquer. He would bend, but it was hard to break 
 him. When he took a stand, his tracks were deep, 
 and he was hard to move. His will was gradually 
 brought under the dominion of his conscience and 
 affections, and in his ripened days he was firm, with- 
 out stubbornness, determined without obstinacy, and 
 persistent, without intolerance. He was too conscien- 
 tious to be defiant, and too gentle to be overbearing. 
 In closing this description of his traits I add an 
 extract from a fine article written concerning him, 
 by Dr. J. C. Long of Crozer Theological Seminary : 
 
 It would not be difficult to give an analysis of his powers and 
 character. His mind was clear and comprehensive. He could 
 see all around a subject as well as into and through it. It was, 
 perhaps, owing to his penetration and grasp of thought that he 
 was so bold and independent in thinking. With little imagina- 
 tion or fancy he had a sound and vigorous judgment. In a word, 
 he Avas a man whose great powers were under the control of in- 
 vincible common sense. He had no sinuosities of character. He 
 took the simplest, most direct means to accomplish his ends. His 
 candor Avas rare and beautiful. In coming days he will be men- 
 tioned with Hall, and Fuller, and Foster, and Carey, and Judson, 
 and Wayland. He fell, indeed, far below Hall in eloquence and 
 learning ; he did not, like Foster, touch the deeper and more subtle 
 springs of moral action, and he did not, like Fuller, exert a 
 moulding influence on the theology of his age. But in personal 
 influence, in developing the spirit of our denomination, and in 
 creating and controlling denominational agencies, he did not fall 
 behind the greatest of his English brethren. He and Dr. Way- 
 land did not move in the same plane ; in many things they were 
 
PERSONAL TRAITS. 431 
 
 very unlike each other ; but, friends during life, they stand to- 
 gether as the two Baptists who have exerted the widest and most 
 wholesome influence on the religious history of our country. 
 
 HIS PRACTICAL TALENT. 
 
 Shrewd men often shed their flippant sneers at the 
 expense of ministers, on account of their supposed 
 lack of common sense. They forget that the proof 
 that a man has common sense, is found in the fact 
 that he does well the business, which he takes in 
 hand. The best evidence that a preacher can give 
 of his common sense, is that he is successful in his 
 ministerial work. Judged by this standard, Dr. Jeter 
 was eminently a practical man. 
 
 For what is popularly called business, he had no 
 taste. He never set before him, money-making as 
 one of the ends of his life. He never touched busi- 
 ness, except as a necessity. He said that it would 
 suit him exactly, to have only what was needful for 
 his comfort, and for benevolent, uses without the care 
 of ownership. He lived for noble pursuits. The 
 affections of his heart, and the energies of his life 
 were devoted to his Redeemer's cause. 
 
 And yet it was, of course, necessary that he should 
 give his attention to the temporalities. He had a 
 few business maxims which guided him in affairs of 
 business. He was thoroughly scrupulous in the 
 matter of keeping out of debt. It was a fixed rule 
 with him, to live within his income. It was a point 
 of conscience with him to buy nothing, he could not 
 pay for. He had a natural, as well as a moral, horror 
 of debt. He loathed it as a bondage, and recoiled 
 from it, as from a plague. He mentioned it, as a 
 
432 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 ground of thanksgiving, in his last sickness, that he 
 was out of debt. 
 
 He was a fair buyer. He never higgled or wran- 
 gled over the price of an article. He was willing 
 to pay the market value, and spurned to trade on his 
 cloth. While connected with the Religious Herald, 
 he insisted that the employees should be paid full 
 wages, and that they must have their money, though 
 nothing was left for the proprietors. 
 
 He was a pleasant man to work for. Those who 
 touched him in a business way, were captivated by 
 his evident honesty and charming urbanity of man- 
 ner. He was free from contention, slow to complain, 
 and easy to please. It is possible that he was some- 
 times deceived by the superior smartness of others ; 
 but not to his serious detriment. His fairness often 
 shamed bad men into honesty, when trading with 
 him. He was quick-sighted and usually saw things 
 at their real value. If men attempted to cheat, or 
 circumvent him, he was apt to find it out, and while 
 he said nothing about it, he did not expose himself 
 to their wiles a second time. 
 
 He often said that he could not spare the time to 
 attend to his business. If he could save a half hour, 
 by pa}dng a higher price for an article, or, even by 
 taking an article of inferior quality, he would do so. 
 
 It was only when he could not avoid it, that he 
 ventured into the marts of trade. 
 
 If the gentle power behind the throne ordained 
 that he must have a new suit of clothes, he went to 
 his tailor, carefully selected the goods, inquired the 
 price, had his measure taken, escaped as soon as 
 
PERSONAL TRAITS. 433 
 
 possible, and probably never thought of the matter 
 again, until the bundle was handed in at his door. 
 If he was compelled to go to market, he went, pro- 
 vided he didn't forget it. 
 
 And if he went, he probably bought, either double 
 the amount that was needed, or something that was 
 not needed. Dr. Ryland relates the homely story, 
 that, during the life of his second wife, he went one 
 morning to the market, and invested in a venerable 
 goose, which Mrs. Jeter declared, required three dis- 
 tinct cookinsrs to render edible. After that ex- 
 perience the gentle lady issued a decree permanently 
 depriving him of the right or privilege of trading in 
 the public market. 
 
 It is worthy of record, that while Dr. Jeter never 
 gave himself to the pursuit of wealth, he began life 
 in poverty, lived in comfort, gave with conspicuous 
 generosity, had his share of misfortunes and losses, 
 and yet succeeded in acquiring a modest fortune. 
 
 HOME LIFE. 
 
 It is little to say of a good man, that he is wedded 
 to his home. It is only another way of saying, that 
 he is true to the profoundest wants of his being. If 
 unhappy in his domestic relations, his public char- 
 acter cannot be satisfactory. But men differ greatly 
 in this respect. Some are dependent, and to them 
 home is a refuge ; some are sensitive, and easily 
 wounded by the slings and whips of life, and to them 
 home is an asylum ; and some are restless, ambitious 
 and over-worked, and home for them means rest. 
 Dr. Jeter was large-hearted, trustful and strong, and 
 28 
 
434 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 to him home meant love, confidence and fellowship. 
 It helped him to be loved, and it was his life to love. 
 Home filled a place in his heart which, otherwise, 
 must have remained locked and empty. 
 
 It seems surprising that his domestic affections 
 were so ardent. In his youth he knew little of the 
 beauty and joy of home, except that which he found 
 in the proud and ever-inspiring love of his mother. 
 After he entered the ministry, he was immersed 
 in public duties, loaded with official labor, and 
 wedded to the seclusion of his study. His habits 
 did not favor the cultivation of the homely virtues. 
 
 Then, too, his domestic career was sadly che- 
 quered. Three times, his home was wrecked by the 
 hand of death, and often he was called upon to 
 change the place of his abode. He never knew that 
 ripened sanctity which, through the passing years, 
 gathers around a single spot, investing it with holy 
 memories and hallowing sorrows. 
 
 He said that he looked upon it, as the direst afflic- 
 tion of earth, that his marriage relations were so 
 often broken. The sword that pierced him, left 
 wounds which, never fully, healed. From the grave 
 of his dead, he turned tremblingly to the task of re- 
 building his shattered homestead. He entered into 
 marriage always with sobriety and prayerful caution. 
 
 His several wives were excellent women. His 
 reverence for womanhood was deep, and he was no- 
 tably susceptible to the charms of the fair. But he 
 never lost his senses in the days of his wooing. 
 He was never enslaved by a silly woman. His 
 marriages were prudent, and each wife, in her turn, 
 
PERSONAL TRAITS. 435 
 
 seemed to be, providentially, suited to him at the dif- 
 ferent stages of his life. Indeed, it was easy for 
 him to be happy. His genuineness, his simplicity 
 and flexibility enabled him to accept his lot with 
 cheerful grace. 
 
 He was a good husband — a statement not always 
 true of men formed for public life. Dr. Ryland .says 
 that in middle life, Dr. Jeter was not so gallant 
 and courtly as he ought to have been, but he was 
 always forbearing, and sincerely anxious to please. 
 I knew him well in his later days, and was impressed 
 with his fine bearing toward his wife. He allowed 
 her a broad margin, and was never exacting. If 
 not very fond, he was, at least, kind, genial and con- 
 siderate. I could not quite put into words the im- 
 pression that he made upon me as a husband, but, in 
 some way, I came to think, that he was just the hus- 
 band that would fill the heart of a good woman, and 
 that all men might safely copy his example. 
 
 There was something matchlessly charming in his 
 bearing towards the wife of his old age. She was 
 the tower of his strength, his pride, his counsellor, 
 and to her, he confided the secrets of his heart. 
 They were rarely separated, and, if he could have 
 his way, she alwa}^s accompanied him in his travels. 
 When I applied to her, for letters to be used in the 
 preparation of this volume, she had to confess that 
 there were none — simply because they were sepa- 
 rated only on brief occasions. 
 
 Busy men are often boorish and stupid in their 
 homes. They give their vitality and energy to the 
 world, and then curse their households, with their 
 
436 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 sighs and sulks. Dr. Jeter was not always in flow- 
 ing spirits. He worked, too closely, to be much with 
 his family, and now and then he lounged into the 
 sitting-room in abstracted and taciturn moods. But 
 he was never surly or impatient. The clatter and 
 romp of children did not upset him. He would 
 often frolic with the little ones, or tell them merry 
 stories. He had the elements of a tease, and enjoyed 
 a practical joke. He sometimes perpetrated jests on 
 his wife, which were not always agreeable, but if he 
 ever gave offence, he was quick to make amends. I 
 drop here two homely stories : 
 
 " Once his wife was taken suddenly ill in the night. He was 
 much alarmed, and gave her, the most considerate care. She was 
 relieved, and appeared at the breakfast-table the next morning. 
 He returned thanks for her recovery, and seemed unusually jubi- 
 lant. But when he grew excited, his feelings inevitably drifted 
 him into the vicinity of the comical. Assuming a sombre mien 
 he asked his wife if she knew what he was thinking about while 
 she was so sick. She replied that she supposed he was duly oc- 
 cupied in devising means for her recovery. ' Well, yes,' he said, 
 ' I was anxious, indeed, for you to get well, and am glad that you 
 did, but I could not help from thinking that, if you died, what a 
 worry it would be to me to have to branch out and look for 
 another wife.' 
 
 " This reminds me of another trustworthy tradition. He was 
 once sent for by an hysterical woman who was supposed to be 
 dying. When he entered the room, she said to him, ' I have sent 
 for you, Dr. Jeter for an important purpose. I feel that I am 
 near my end, and I have been trying to induce my husband to 
 promise me not to marry again — and I want you to help me.' 
 
 "' Don't do it brother ; don't do it,' Dr. Jeter said, addressing 
 the husband. ' I would not make that promise to any woman.' 
 She had evidently sent for the wrong man. His remark made 
 her so mad that she got well." 
 
PERSONAL TRAITS. 437 
 
 In the post-bellum times, his home was elegantly 
 furnished, and his board was luxurious and hospit- 
 able. During a certain Baptist convention, his house 
 was filled with guests, and they were charmingly en- 
 tertained. On the last day as the company gathered 
 at the dinner table, the Doctor grew suddenly sober. 
 " Brethren," he said, " I am sad to-day. It grieves 
 me that you are going away. How I will miss you ! 
 I hardly know how I will get along, when you are 
 gone." 
 
 The brethren were moved. They began to say 
 what a fine time they had had, how grateful they 
 were, how they would miss him, etc. 
 
 With a yet sadder face, he said, " Excuse me 
 brethren ; you misunderstand me. It is about my- 
 self I am thinking. We don't live this way all the 
 time. My wife will make me suffer for all these 
 grand dinners we have been having." 
 
 It was a jest in which he could afford to indulge. 
 It little mattered with him what he ate, and his 
 table never lacked for palatable supplies. 
 
 Dr. Jeter actually revelled in hospitality. He 
 hailed it as a privilege. He had nothing too good 
 for his brethren. His home was, rarely, without com- 
 pany. With not a few persons, it was understood 
 that when they came to Richmond, they were to be 
 his guests. His kindred always found it pleasant to 
 cross his threshold, and in his fellowship, had a feast 
 of fat things. But it was his crowning joy to enter- 
 tain the preachers. He never hesitated to pick up 
 the visiting brother, and bring him to meals, or to 
 spend the night. The only limit upon his hospi- 
 
438 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 tality was found in the exigencies of his work. His 
 mornings he reserved for his studies, and on that 
 point, he was inexorable. 
 
 His type of hospitality was distinctively social. 
 It is true that the poor, often, sat at his table, and he 
 was ready to divide his last loaf with the needy. 
 But his social nature yearned for sympathy. He 
 was ever ready to accept the hospitality of others, 
 and was often out to dinners and suppers, though he 
 seemed happiest when he could gather into his own 
 parlors, those whose intelligence and piety made 
 them responsive and congenial. To his guests he was 
 courtly and obliging. He would take them in his 
 carriage in the afternoon, and show them the sights 
 of the city, and his evenings were cordially spent in 
 their entertainment. 
 
 Dr. Jeter, in his social habits, had an upward look. 
 He struck for the best. He revered successful men, 
 and paid willing court to those who had won emi- 
 nence in their special line. He had an open respect 
 for those who had official rank, and yet more for 
 those who had filled high places, with acknowledged 
 faithfulness. He said office was not always worthily 
 bestowed, but that, usually, it indicated merit. He 
 was apt to call on distinguished men when they came 
 to Richmond, and this he, sometimes, did as an act of 
 respect for their position. When in 1865 Mr. Pier- 
 pont came to Richmond, as governor of a people, who 
 had not chosen him and did not desire him, he called 
 on him. On the occasion of Mr. Hayes' visit to 
 Richmond, he called on him in token of his consider- 
 ation for the presidential office. 
 
PERSONAL TRAITS. 439 
 
 He did not love money, but he had decided respect 
 for men who had won distinction in money-making. 
 He liked rich people, provided they were reputable 
 and decent. Even for fashionable people, he evinced 
 a respectful attention. He was not above or below 
 any class of society. He touched the social fabric at 
 every point. He said that he never met but one re- 
 buff, in approaching persons of aristocratic preten- 
 sions. During a summer at the White Sulphur 
 Springs, he sat at the same table with a woman quite 
 high in the social circles of Richmond. Though not 
 acquainted with her, he knew of her, and after ex- 
 changing table courtesies for several days, he ven- 
 tured to give her his name, and speak in kind terms 
 of her husband whom he knew. Upon learning that 
 he was a Baptist minister, she repelled, almost 
 scornfully, his approaches. Her curtness clipped 
 his plumes for a season, but he related the incident 
 afterwards with a smile, which had in it no cynical 
 suggestion. He did not hold society responsible for 
 the brainless pride of one of its members. 
 
 In his rich and joyous life, there was one sad void. 
 God never blessed him with living children. This 
 was a sore deprivation. He was a child-lover, and 
 longed for children of his own. He said of his 
 third marriage, that he hoped it would bless him 
 with a dozen children. That wish, cherished with 
 true patriarchal longing, was denied, and so hungry 
 was his heart, for child-company that he adopted an 
 orphan girl, named, Bessie Bradley. He took her to 
 his heart, gave her his name and invested her with 
 the privileges of a daughter. A lovely, grateful 
 
440 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 child she was, and she clung to him with an affec- 
 tion as deep and true, as that which he gave to her. 
 Under his roof, she grew to womanhood, and just 
 before his death, he gave her in marriage to Mr. J. 
 B. Woodard. She bore a son, and called him Jeter, 
 and, then dying, was buried in Hollywood, near the 
 spot where he sleeps. 
 
 When he married Mrs. Dabbs, she also had an 
 adopted child, — a little boy, named, Philip Stratton. 
 Him, also, Dr. Jeter adopted, and after exercising 
 over him faithful care, educated him for the medical 
 profession. He is now a practitioner in North Car- 
 olina, and worthily wears the name of his adopted 
 father. 
 
 He also received into his family, two little nieces 
 of Mrs. Jeter, and while not adopted, they shared 
 fully his fatherly kindness, until their marriage. 
 The elder is now Mrs. Merrie Sugg, of Virginia, an 
 accomplished and useful Christian lady; the latter 
 is the beautiful and brilliant wife of H. A. Tupper, 
 Jr., of Kentucky. 
 
 It would hardly seem possible, that a household 
 thus constructed, at a late point in his life, and out 
 of fragments taken from three other families, would 
 ever become . homogeneous. But it did. It was a 
 compact, genial and delightful household. 
 
 He was too busy to be often with his children, but 
 he evinced the sweetest affection and the most gene- 
 rous concern for them. His discretion, kindness and 
 patience were more than matched by the admirable 
 discipline and fidelity of his wife. 
 
 For some years before his death, he had in his fam- 
 
PERSONAL TRAITS. 441 
 
 ily a maiden lady, Miss Emily Brown. She was a 
 true, faithful woman and a valuable auxiliary of 
 Mrs. Jeter in the management of her home. Indeed 
 she assumed the bulk of domestic care, and did 
 much to promote the order, taste and beauty of the 
 house. She knew his ways and delighted to minis- 
 ter to his wishes. In his last sickness, she assisted 
 in nursing him, and no tears dropped upon his bier, 
 were more lovingly sorrowful than her's. When he 
 died, she declared that he had never wounded her by 
 a sharp word or an angry frown. In grateful re- 
 membrance of her services, he made provision for 
 her in his will. 
 
 Many whose eyes trace these pages, will recall 
 Dr. Jeter's home at the corner of First and Grace 
 Streets, in old Richmond. A quiet, unpretending 
 brick-house, without park or fountain ; with passages 
 too narrow for convenience, and with rooms too 
 small for comfort. But what a home it was ! With- 
 in reigned the spirit of Him who brought peace, and 
 light and love to the earth. There lived the dear 
 old man of God, with his devout family, and there, 
 he did his last best work. Many of us rang its bell, 
 sat at its board, enjoyed its fellowship and bowed at 
 its altar. 
 
 Death and change have done their cruel work. 
 Its inmates are scattered, and strangers have taken 
 their places. The little study in the rear, dearest 
 of all earthly spots to him, where he loved to pray, 
 and work, has been robbed of its books and desks, 
 and he has gone out to come back no more. 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 CHRIST IN HIM. 
 
 ON the 22d of February, 1858, I stood on the 
 Capitol Square at Richmond, Va., and witnessed 
 the unveiling of the equestrian statue of Wash- 
 ington. It was a chill and stormy day, and yet the 
 park was crowded. When the veil fell off, and the 
 horse and rider broke upon public view, a great shout 
 rent the air. Bands played patriotic airs ; an orator 
 pronounced an eulogy, and a poet sang the honors of 
 the great American. 
 
 Mine is an humbler task. I venture to unveil, as 
 best I can, the christian character of J. B. Jeter. 
 This I do, not in the midst of roaring cannon, nor 
 martial music, nor swelling pomp, nor yet with the 
 hope of arousing the noisy enthusiasm which on that 
 memorable day, burst forth in honor of Washington. 
 It will be an ample reward for me if, by uncovering 
 a well-finished christian life, I can magnify the trans- 
 forming grace of God, and stimulate in some, a 
 yearning for a better life. 
 
 Dr. Jeter was a christian for nearly sixty years. 
 Before his conversion he was an upright, self-contained 
 youth. His moral sensibilities had not been blunted, 
 nor his soul blistered by the flames of evil passion. 
 The gospel can reach low, and lift the degraded, 
 442 
 
CHRIST IN HIM. 443 
 
 but happy is he, who can enter Christ's kingdom, un- 
 stained by vice and unshackled by bad habits. 
 
 Of course, there were evil possibilities within him. 
 His ambition was prodigious, and if it had mastered 
 him, who can tell, to what lengths it would have 
 borne him ? His love of preeminence — that unhal- 
 lowed craving for the highest seat — was his sore 
 besetment. Passionate, impatient of control and 
 mischievous, he was not always quick to respect the 
 rights of others. Without local attachments, and 
 bent on adventure, he was fair game for the tempter. 
 Such was the boy, upon whom the Lord laid his hand 
 in 1821, and summoned into his service. His con- 
 version was genuine, and of its reality, he never had 
 a serious doubt. 
 
 We are to study him, not so much in the processes 
 of his growth, as in the maturity and completeness of 
 his character. We may, at least, pause at the threshold 
 to mark the maxims and habits which entered into 
 the formation of his spiritual life. He started with 
 one single purpose — that, to give himself, without 
 reservation, to the service of God. It was the guiding 
 principle of his life. It held him and kept him. 
 His feelings were moody and variable, but his cove- 
 nant abided. He was the Lord's by solemn compact, 
 and there he stood, fixed and unshakened. 
 
 His faith in the gospel was vital. He never knew 
 the unhinging power of a real doubt. Nothing was 
 great to him but Christ, and he was " all and in all." 
 He saw him in experience, in providence and in the 
 Scriptures. He lived in fellowship with the Father, 
 and with his Son Jesus Christ. 
 
444 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 Dr. Jeter was not emotional in his piety. He 
 tended in the direction of system, regularity and 
 punctiliousness in his religious habits. Not that he 
 was destitute of feeling, but he was devout and 
 reverential even without emotion. He was about as 
 faithful, in his attention to the means of grace in 
 times of coldness, as he was in seasons of revival. 
 Indeed, while he often deplored his leanness of soul, 
 he never got very cold. 
 
 He was a devotional student of the Scriptures. 
 He read the Bible for his own sake — read it every 
 day — read it, often, upon his knees. He had copies 
 of the Scriptures for his personal use, and read them 
 literally to pieces. A number of these were found 
 in his study, after his death, and they had been so 
 marked and worn, that they were, no longer, fit for use. 
 
 Nor was he less devoted to secret prayer. He 
 never measured his prayers by rules, nor prayed by 
 schedule. I do not suppose that he spent as much 
 time upon his knees, as Payson or Clopton, but he 
 prayed regularly and irregularly. When he arose in 
 the morning, he immediately repaired to his study, 
 and engaged in private devotions. These could 
 hardly be called secret, for his prayers were often 
 heard beyond the limits of his little sanctuary. He 
 often prayed in the night, and upon his bed. Prayer 
 was his remedy for insomnia. It is known that he 
 rarely went to sleep, without folding his arms upon 
 his breast and repeating the devout hymn — 
 
 " Father, whate'er of earthly bliss 
 Thy sovereign will denies, 
 Accepted at a throne of grace, 
 Let this petition rise : 
 
CHRIST IN HIM. 445 
 
 " Give me a calm, a thankful heart, 
 From every murmur free ; 
 The blessings of thy grace impart, 
 And make me live to thee. 
 
 " Let the sweet hope that thou art mine, 
 My life and death attend ; 
 Thy presence through my journey shine, 
 And crown my journey's end." 
 
 Dr. Dunnaway mentions the fact that whenever 
 Dr. Jeter went to conventional meetings, if a time 
 was set apart for devotional exercises, he always 
 attended, and entered heartily into every part of the 
 worship. He looked upon prayer as the key which 
 unlocked all mysteries. 
 
 " Before entering upon any enterprise he would first seek the 
 Divine guidance in prayer. When he conceived the idea of de- 
 voting himself to editorial work, he called one morning on Dr. 
 Dickinson and said : " I call to see you on an important matter. 
 I propose to unite with you in establishing a Baptist weekly in 
 this city. Think over it, and pray over it, and I will see you 
 again." To pray over the matter was all that was then proposed 
 as the first and most important step in the enterprise." 
 
 Dr. Jeter's piety, like his temperament, was mer- 
 curial. When he was converted he fell into the 
 notion of the times, that a man's religion was in pro- 
 portion to the sombreness of his manner. He 
 undertook to encase himself in the grimness of the 
 Puritan. The project miscarried. He was too well 
 converted, and too spontaneously joyful, to be con- 
 sistently gloomy. His sense of the ludicrous played 
 havoc with his asceticism. He laughed at his simu- 
 lated misery. He had a capital liver; indeed, he 
 
446 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 said that he did not know that he had a liver, and 
 he was a stranger to the horrors of dj^spepsia. His 
 sunny nature was a medium through which his 
 spiritual hopes beamed with resplendent glory. 
 Though full of thought, and ridged with care, his 
 face glowed with a soft religious light. 
 
 He was a real man. He was genuine through 
 and through. Between his seeming and himself, 
 there was no disharmony. In him, there was no 
 crookedness. He wore no masks. He was inherently, 
 subjectively, essentially honest. The reader must 
 have found out already, that I am no blind eulogist 
 of Dr. Jeter. Of his errors and mistakes, I have 
 spoken with unsparing candor. I determined in 
 dealing with his moral and religious features, to set 
 out in the clearest light, his wrongs and sins, so far 
 as I could find them. It surprised me that I could 
 not put my hand upon anything, in his later life 
 which could be branded, as manifestly wrong. I 
 appealed to others, to tell me, wherein he fell short, 
 and needed amendment. They confessed that they 
 did not know. He was so high in his consistency, 
 so sincere in his nature, so transparent and true, so 
 broadly charitable and gently just, that I could find 
 no fault in him. He was a trophy of transforming 
 grace. The gospel had finished its work in him. 
 This he could never have said, and yet he well-nigh 
 implied it, in the oft-expressed wish, that when death 
 came, it might come suddenly. He asked for no 
 death-bed, and offered no prayers for dying grace. 
 Having lived faithfully, he was not afraid to die. 
 
 It is customary in books of this class, to emphasize 
 
CHRIST IN HIM. 447 
 
 every quality which enters into the constitution of 
 christian character. In dealing with Dr. Jeter, I 
 choose to select only a few conspicuous traits in his 
 religious life, and will let them stand, as samples of 
 the whole. 
 
 HIS LOVE OF MEN. 
 
 It was often said that he did not know men. 
 Shrewd people sneered at his ignorance of human 
 nature. There are two ways to find out men. The 
 first is by suspicious vigilance. We assume that they 
 are false, and need to be watched. It is a mild form 
 of the detective system. We eye our neighbor as a 
 doubtful character, and expect to catch him in villany. 
 The other is by trustfulness. We start with the 
 supposition that men are upright, and mean well. 
 We trust them and put them upon their honor. 
 
 Which is the better way? The former has its 
 drawbacks. It wrecks confidence, fosters suspicion 
 and makes men deceptive. If we know that we are 
 watched, it only increases our temptations and gives 
 a motive for concealment. The latter appeals to 
 what is noble in the human soul. It rekindles honor 
 and puts men on their good behavior. Nothing goes 
 farther in making men trustworthy, than to trust 
 them. Many will cheat a trickster who would deal 
 fairly, with an honest man. Men, far gone in shame, 
 have been galvanized into momentary honesty by 
 contact with trustful men. 
 
 Dr. Jeter believed in men. He treated them as 
 gentlemen, and assumed that they intended to do 
 right. Now and then, he was over-reached by the 
 
448 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 wiles of the unscrupulous. A. B. Clarke, Esq., him- 
 self a simple-hearted christian man, and for years 
 connected with the Religious Herald, relates that a 
 stranger once came into the office, represented him- 
 self as a Baptist from Ohio, stated that he had lost 
 his money, and applied to Dr. Jeter for relief. He 
 loaned him twenty dollars, upon the promise of its 
 speedy return. He was never heard of afterwards. 
 The oily scamp imposed on the charity of the kind 
 old man. This was not a solitary case, and yet he 
 was probably not deceived more frequently, than he 
 would have been, if he had been more suspicious. 
 Cunning people are notoriously credulous. 
 
 There is a fellowship in goodness. Dr. Jeter's 
 purity and ingenuousness made him, keen-eyed in 
 detecting merit. The unworthy may have some- 
 times outwitted him, but he rarely committed the 
 mistake of repelling the meritorious. He lost little 
 by trusting bad people, and gained much by trusting 
 good people. There was a protective quality in his 
 own goodness. The corrupt and scheming were 
 afraid of him, and very few got the advantage of 
 him. 
 
 It is a mistake to imagine that he was a weakling 
 in dealing with men. He was guided, in his judg- 
 ment, by the divine standards. He despised idleness, 
 cant, flattery and cunning. When he turned his 
 two blue eyes upon a stranger, and subjected him to 
 an examination, he could find out, about as much as 
 a professional detective. If he convicted a man of 
 rascality, he refused to help him ; if he stood the test, 
 he helped him freely ; if the case was in doubt, he 
 
CHRIST IN HIM. 449 
 
 gave the applicant the benefit of the doubt. He 
 sometimes gave money to the unworthy, to get rid of' 
 them. He would pay them to leave. 
 
 His opinions of men were high, — much higher 
 than the average. It often astonished me to find, 
 how thoroughly he respected the gifts of men who 
 were far inferior to himself. He rarely expressed 
 adverse criticisms of sermons, or addresses that were 
 devout and modestly delivered ; but for the sopho- 
 moric and pedantic, he had a contempt which he 
 could not conceal. It has been said of him that he 
 would not say anything of a man, in his absence, 
 that he would not say in his presence. It would be 
 nearer the truth to say, that he would not utter in a 
 man's absence, the criticisms which he made upon 
 him, when present. 
 
 He had his ups and downs with men. He once 
 told me of a minister who was settled in Richmond 
 for several years, who treated him with a reserve 
 and spitefulness that he could, neither understand 
 nor cure. He tried every expedient, in the way of 
 hospitality, visits, pulpit courtesies and kindly com- 
 mendations, to cast the evil spirit out of the brother 
 and to bring him around, but without success. Not 
 long before his death, a well-known brother became 
 affronted for some unknown reason, and treated the 
 old Doctor with a frigidity which cut him to the 
 quick. He sought anxiously to recover his favor, 
 and finally succeeded. 
 
 He had his enemies, or at least he was sometimes 
 treated with the gravest injustice. In one of his 
 churches, he had a deacon who gave him great trou- 
 29 
 
450 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER D.D. 
 
 ble. It was one of the bitterest trials of his long 
 •life. He was a man of superior gifts, high position 
 and wide influence, and he used his power to the 
 discouragement and injury of Dr. Jeter. It is one 
 of the mysteries which only Heaven can explain, 
 how good men can sometimes do such cross and ugly 
 things. Dr. Jeter outlived this brother, and it has 
 been said, by good critics, that the finest article that 
 ever emanated from his pen, was his tribute to the 
 memory of that man. That was magnanimity. He 
 could not only forgive an injury, but he could heartily 
 honor and bless those who had been unkind to him. 
 This he did in no swelling and vain-glorious way, 
 as if he were proud to do a pretty deed. He did it, 
 because it was in him to do it. 
 
 He knew how to respect men who had strong 
 blemishes of character. In the past generation, there 
 was a minister of real worth, who was yet noted for 
 his pomposity and egotism. He was the subject of 
 much severe criticism. Dr. Jeter was very fond of 
 him, and once, when asked his opinion of him, said : 
 " I greatly admire him, and I admire his egotism, 
 because it is so thoroughly amiable. He thinks well 
 of himself; but then he thinks well of the rest of us 
 also." 
 
 Sir Humphrey Davy was once complimented on 
 his great discoveries. He replied : " My greatest dis- 
 covery is Faraday." While our State mission work 
 was yet in chaos, the board met one day to select a 
 secretary. The members were bewildered, and knew 
 not where to look. Dr. Jeter turned to a modest, 
 black-eyed youth and said: "Eureka! I have found 
 
CHRIST IN HIM. 451 
 
 him. I have found the man. Here he is. Put him 
 into this office, and he will give his life to it." They 
 put him in, and the result is known. That man 
 was Henry K. Ellyson. 
 
 A winsome trait in Dr. Jeter was his cordial 
 esteem for brethren whose characters were marred 
 by palpable and grievous blemishes. One did not 
 have to be very good, in order to win his love. His 
 eye could detect a single virtue in a mass of rubbish. 
 He was slow to lose confidence in persons, or even to 
 become impatient with them. I sometimes thought 
 that his cordial respect for odd and peculiar men 
 was the brightest charm of his character. Take, for 
 example, this picture of Epa Norris, one of his 
 Northern Neck deacons : 
 
 When I went to reside in the Northern Neck, Deacon Norris 
 received me very cordially. It was not long, however, before an 
 event occurred by which he was temporarily alienated from me. At 
 that time the use of collars, separate from shirts, was just coming 
 into fashion. By chance I borrowed a collar, and, while using it, 
 spent a night at the plain and hospitable home of the deacon. On 
 rising in the morning I remarked that I had never worn a collar 
 before — that I was pleased with it — and that I must get me a 
 supply of collars. He seemed to be awakened into solemn medi- 
 tation. After some delay, he said : " I am not sure that it is right 
 to wear collars." Without the slightest doubt of my ability to 
 convince him that there was nothing wrong in the practice, I 
 commenced an argument in its favor. The more I argued on the 
 subject, the more deeply he seemed to be convinced that it was 
 sinful. " It is," he said, " hypocrisy — a make-believe — you pre- 
 tend to have on a clean shirt, and you haven't." As a crowning 
 argument, he said that Lunsford and Straughan never wore col- 
 lars ; and he was sure, if they were living, they would not do it. 
 Having failed in argument, I resolved to see what I could do in 
 
452 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 the way of conciliation. I said to him, " Brother Norris, if my 
 wearing collars will hurt your feelings, I will not wear them." 
 " You think it right to wear them," said the old man, " and that 
 is as bad as if you were to do it." I could avoid the practice, 
 but could not change my opinion about it; and we parted, leav- 
 ing the question undecided. 
 
 I was willing to let it drop ; but Deacon Norris was not a man 
 to yield his convictions. At every opportunity the subject was 
 rediscussed, and the same arguments were repeated. It chanced 
 Deacon Gaskins and myself spent a night with Brother Norris. 
 Gaskins had a more discriminating and logical mind than Norris. 
 The grave question about the lawfulness of wearing collars came 
 up for discussion. I was glad to commit it to the hands of the 
 two deacons. Deacon Norris repeated his stereotyped argu- 
 ment : " It is hypocrisy ; you pretend to have on a clean shirt, 
 and haven't." Deacon Gaskins replied: " Brother Norris, when 
 you have been from home and your cravat has become soiled on 
 the outside, do you never turn it and put the clean side out ? " 
 It was a nail driven in a sure place. Deacon Norris was accus- 
 tomed, as was the fashion of the day, to wear a cravat of spotless 
 white, carefully tied at the back of his neck. He was too honest 
 to deny that he sometimes turned his cravat for the purpose of 
 concealing its dirt, and of too much penetration not to perceive 
 that the act involved the very principle which he was so fiercely 
 condemning. He was for a while silent, evidently endeavoring 
 to see if there were any escape from the consequence that fol- 
 lowed the confession that he was bound to make. He could see 
 no door of deliverance. With a sorrowful countenance and 
 signs of deep penitence, he said : " Yes, Brother Gaskins, I have ; 
 but if the Lord will forgive me, I will never do it again." 
 Whether the old man needed forgiveness for the supposed fault 
 I cannot say ; but it is quite certain that, whether forgiven or 
 not, he never again turned his cravat to conceal its soiled ex- 
 terior. 
 
 For months the controversy was continued with undiminished 
 earnestness ; but without any increase of light. At length, it was 
 closed. The deacon and I were together at Mrs. Downing's. She 
 was an intelligent, pious old Baptist, of the Lunsford school ; he 
 
CHRIST IN HIM. 453 
 
 proposed that the question should be decided by her, and I 
 gladly assented to the proposition. Brother Norris, to be sure of 
 a favorable decision, undertook to state the case. Mrs. Downing 
 stopped him in the midst of his discourse with the question : " Doesn't 
 Brother Jeter wear collars ? " On learning that he did not, she 
 said : " Well, he must have some. I don't know how he can get 
 along without them." " See, here, child," said the deacon, and 
 endeavored to renew his argument ; but the good sister would 
 not hear it. He was silenced and gave up the controversy ; but 
 was neither convinced nor satisfied. Some time afterwards he asked 
 for a letter of dismission from the Morattico Church, of which I 
 was pastor, and of which he had been an honored deacon for 
 thirty years, to join a church nearer to him, in an adjoining 
 county. Convenience was the plea for the change ; but the 
 brethren all thought that the trouble about the collar was at the 
 bottom of it. 
 
 It was not long before the old brother learned that wearing a 
 collar was not the worst evil that could afflict a church. He soon 
 got into great difficulties with his new relation — difficulties in 
 nowise affecting his Christian character, but greatly disturbing 
 the repose of his old age. Years before I left the Neck he had 
 entirely forgiven, or, at least, overlooked, my sin of wearing a 
 collar, and was in cordial friendship with me. 
 
 It is, perhaps, more than thirty years since Deacon Norris 
 went to his long home. He was a good man, but had his im- 
 perfections — peculiarities, perhaps, they should be called. His 
 faults,' if faults they were, were virtues over-rigid hardened into 
 wrong. His conscientiousness was noble ; but he erred in wish- 
 ing to make his conscience the rule for other people's conduct. 
 His deep convictions were commendable ; but they betrayed him 
 into intolerant dogmatism. He could never have been a great 
 man ; but, with better training and under other circumstances, 
 he would have been a noble specimen of Christian piety, and 
 might have been a martyr in the cause of Christ. With all his 
 oddities, I loved and venerated him, and cherish unfeigned re- 
 spect for his memory. 
 
 Dr. Jeter gave liberally of his time, counsel and 
 
454 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 money in helping others. He took marked interest 
 in the education of sp rightly boys and girls, and, in 
 his own quiet way, assisted those who were in 
 necessitous circumstances. Many of his benefactions 
 of this kind were not known, beyond the immediate 
 families upon whom they were bestowed. An enter- 
 prise might be unpopular, but if he believed that it 
 was really meritorious, he would identify himself with 
 it, and do his utmost to ensure its success. It would 
 be easy to enlarge this sketch by introducing those 
 who stand ready to testify to his cordial sympathy 
 and helpfulness in their struggles. I must at least 
 insert this grateful and beautiful letter from Dr. C. 
 H. Corey, President of the Richmond Institute, for 
 the training of colored ministers. 
 
 Kichmond Theological Seminary, 
 Richmond, Va., March 20th, 1887. 
 My Dear Dr. Hatcher, 
 
 I learn with sincere pleasure that you are about to publish 
 memorials of the late Dr. Jeter. I look forward to its perusal 
 with peculiar interest. Dr. Jeter was a man for whom I had a 
 most profound regard and a sincere affection. About nineteen 
 years ago I came to Richmond an entire stranger. I was to 
 succeed Rev. Nathaniel Colver, D.D., and Rev. Robert Ryland, 
 D.D., in their work of training colored ministers. Our school- 
 room was a small brick building, which stood in " the bottom," 
 near Shockoe Creek, below Broad Street, and was a part of the 
 establishment known as " Lumpkin's Jail." My own home was 
 on the premises, in the house occupied by the former proprietor 
 of the place, Mr. Lumpkin. Dr. Jeter was among the first to 
 find his way to my unpretending home, in this most uninviting 
 place, and to extend to me his sympathies, and to assure me of 
 his hearty co-operation in my work. He and his " Junior," Rev. 
 A. E. Dickinson, D.D., not only did what they could to make me 
 feel at home, but tendered to me the columns of the Religious 
 
CHRIST IN HIM. 455 
 
 Herald, which they assured me would always be at my disposal 
 in the interests of my work. Then and ever afterwards Dr. 
 Jeter was a frequent and welcome visitor to our institution. The 
 young men always hailed with delight his coming and listened to 
 his words of instruction and encouragement with unfeigned 
 pleasure. His attitude towards our work, both in public and 
 private, largely contributed to secure at an early day the confi- 
 dence and co-operation of the denomination in Virginia. His 
 words of kind approval and appreciation to me personally were 
 not only an encouragement, but an inspiration, as I felt myself 
 honored in having so great and good a man for my personal 
 friend. 
 
 So deeply had Dr. Jeter impressed his personality upon me, 
 that whenever I saw his commanding form, w T hether he walked 
 the streets or rode along on his old white horse, a benediction in- 
 voluntarily escaped my lips. It was my privilege to join the 
 company of mourners that followed him to his resting-place, on 
 the banks of the James. And now, among the beautiful places 
 where slumber the great and good in that " city of the silent," 
 there is no spot near which I more reverently linger, than that 
 where rest the mortal remains of Jeremiah Bell Jeter. 
 
 Chas. H. Corey. 
 
 Ministers sometimes complained that Dr. Jeter 
 was cold and inaccessible. I think that at times he 
 was signally lacking in that ease and warmth of 
 manner which always attracts those who are shy of 
 distinguished men. The truth was that many 
 preachers were afraid of the old Doctor. They 
 shrank away from him, and awaited approaches on 
 his part. But he was absorbed with other things. 
 He was not thinking about them, and least of all 
 was it, in his heart, to slight them. One had to 
 charge upon him and arouse him, in order to win his 
 attention. Those who sought him easily found him. 
 A few sore and sensitive men had hard thoughts of 
 
456 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 him, and never ceased to tell how many times they 
 had been introduced to him, and how he always 
 failed to know them the next time. They told the 
 truth. He did not know them, and introduction 
 meant little with him. He recognized persons, not 
 by their forms or faces, but by their personality — 
 their expression, their voices, their smile and their 
 laugh. Deep in his heart, there was an ardent love 
 for his christian brethren. His ear was open to the 
 voice of their sorrow, and he was always ready to 
 counsel or cheer them. In the simple incident below, 
 a young preacher tells how Dr. Jeter helped him. 
 
 Dr. Jeter was known to be a kind, but withal a close and 
 severe critic. Dr. Wilson used to say of him, " He rides me like 
 an elephant." 
 
 Shortly after I came to Richmond, a mere stripling and poorly 
 prepared for the work before me, Dr. Jeter came to hear me 
 preach. When I saw him, I hastened to him and besought him 
 to preach for me. But he firmly declined. He took a seat on 
 the platform behind me, and while I was preaching I observed 
 frequently a broad smile on the faces of the people. This was so 
 unusual, and so unexpected to me, that it almost disconcerted me. 
 But I learned afterwards, that Dr. Jeter's hearty nods of assent to 
 points in the sermon, and his silent, but visible, smiles of approba- 
 tion had proved so contagious, that they spread over the congrega- 
 tion. At the close, he thanked me for the sermon, and spoke so 
 kindly and encouragingly to me, and the members of the church 
 that I have ever regarded that visit of the dear, good man as one 
 of the links which strengthened the union between the young 
 and weak beginner and his flock. 
 
 He never flattered men. Indeed, some thought 
 that he was unduly reserved in the matter of com- 
 mendation. The fact was, that he set such a low 
 
CHRIST IN HIM. 457 
 
 estimate upon the praises of men, that he failed to 
 remember, how grateful they were to other people. 
 Those who got a compliment from him, valued it as a 
 jewel of the first order, and kept it, as a precious 
 souvenir. What he said in the way of compliment, 
 was usually spontaneous, the outburst of an impulse, 
 briefly spoken, and soon forgotten. Sometimes he 
 dropped a commendatory word, with unconscious 
 aptness, and it went like balm to a bruised spirit. 
 
 A certain Baptist merchant of Richmond, became 
 seriously embarrassed in his business. The report 
 went out that he had failed, and caused much pain- 
 ful surprise. A few days, after the suspension of his 
 business, Dr. Jeter, in passing down the aisle of the 
 church, one Sunday morning, met him. He grasped 
 him by the hand with unwonted warmth, and said, 
 " How are you, brother ? I have heard fine news 
 about you." Just about that time, the sad brother 
 was feeling that all the news concerning him was of 
 the worst sort. With mingled surprise and curiosity, 
 he asked the Doctor what he had heard. " Why, I 
 heard that you had failed in business, and failed 
 honestly. It is nothing to lose your money, if you 
 have been able to retain your integrity." The kind 
 word went far to reconcile the brother to his mis- 
 fortunes. He did " fail honestly," and not long after, 
 started again, and rose to high prosperity. 
 
 HIS CANDOR. 
 
 Candor is an ambiguous term. Harsh deeds 
 against propriety, and religion, have often been com- 
 mitted in the name of candor. Unfeeling men 
 
458 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 trample upon the sensibilities of others, and then 
 seek to justify their brutality, by ascribing it to a 
 frank and outspoken spirit. Unthinking people, who 
 are incapable of self-containment, and who are per- 
 petually blurting forth their indiscretions, plead 
 candor, as an atonement for their folly. Real can- 
 dor is honesty of nature — the capacity to estimate 
 things just as they are. Only the truth-loving man 
 can be candid. Dr. Jeter was a candid man. He 
 saw things as they were, and valued them at their 
 worth. 
 
 He knew himself, and I must be candid enough 
 to add, that he thought highly of himself. This, the 
 word of God gave him the right to do. His sturdy 
 self-respect was one bulwark of his strength. He 
 might fail in his sermons, or his plans, and often did, 
 but he did not fall out with himself, on that account. 
 There was in him much that deserved respect, and 
 he knew it. 
 
 But he did "not think more highly of himself" 
 than he ought to have thought. His self-respect 
 saved him from vanity. No man of his clear com- 
 mon sense could have been conceited. That he had 
 gifts and adaptations, he could not but know, and he 
 was free from that spurious humility which would 
 prompt him to deny, or disparage his powers. He 
 did not think that he was a great man. He fell so 
 far short of his aspirations, that he felt little of self- 
 exaltation. As to his spiritual attainments he was 
 thoroughly dissatisfied. He once said of Daniel 
 Witt : " I never knew him to do a wrong thing in 
 my life ; but as for me, I have been stumbling and 
 
CHRIST IN HIM. 459 
 
 blundering all my days." He did not parade osten- 
 tatiously, but he confessed, his infirmities. 
 
 He rarely spoke of the faults of others, without 
 coupling with the remark, a confession of his own. 
 He was once in company with several men who were 
 strongly condemning the folly of an absent brother. 
 They struck him hard blows, and showed no mercy. 
 Dr. Jeter, who knew that they were right in their 
 judgment, said nothing until the talk ended, and 
 then remarked : " Human nature is a great fool, of 
 which I am one." The quaint speech did its work. 
 
 He loved to be criticised. If men praised him, he 
 was ill at ease ; but when they condemned him in a 
 kind spirit, and to his face, he enjoyed it. He selected 
 men of critical tastes, and subjected his performances 
 to their faithful inspection. Those who know Dr. 
 Ryland's unpitying methods as a critic, will not doubt 
 Dr. Jeter's honesty in asking for correction, when it 
 is known that among critics, Dr. Ryland was his 
 favorite. Sometimes men struck him malignantly, 
 and while he did not like their motive, he sought to 
 use their attacks for his own improvement. He be- 
 lieved that an enemy had his uses. 
 
 The crowning proof of his candor was seen in his 
 readiness to confess a wrong. He seemed to have 
 no false pride, and found more pleasure in acknowl- 
 edging that he was wrong than he did in proving 
 that somebody else was wrong. Not that he was 
 facile or vacillating, or that his convictions were not 
 sharp, or that he was not ready to defend his opin- 
 ions ; but he had the capacity to discover his own 
 errors and the manliness to confess them. 
 
460 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 In 1858, a plea was made in the General Associa- 
 tion of Virginia, in favor of the Baptist church in New 
 Orleans. He arose and opposed it. He declared that 
 the attempt to establish the Baptist cause in that city, 
 was an expensive, and profitless task, and ought to be 
 abandoned. His remarks gave surprise and pain. 
 Several brethren arose, and presented such an array 
 of facts, against his position, as were overpowering. 
 He took the floor again and said : "I have spoken 
 unadvisedly. I did not understand the situation in 
 New Orleans, as well as I supposed. I request that 
 my utterances will be counted for nothing. I not 
 only withdraw them, but I will cheerfully contribute 
 to the cause." The devout candor of his confession, 
 not only atoned for his mistake, but became a mag- 
 netic plea for New Orleans. 
 
 On another occasion, he arose to answer a speech 
 made on a certain question. He took up two or 
 three points, and demolished them to his own satis- 
 faction, and finally attacked the strong point of his 
 opponent. As he began to pick it to pieces, he saw 
 it in a new light — saw that it was conclusive against 
 him. He paused, in deep thought, for a moment, and 
 then, breaking into happy laughter, said : " I see 
 that I am wrong, and my brother is right. Let us 
 vote on his side." 
 
 At a meeting of the Foreign Mission Board, he 
 made a very emphatic statement with reference to 
 the Italian Mission. He fully believed in the accu- 
 racy of the statement, and maintained it with bold 
 and eloquent zeal. It happened that he had over- 
 looked certain important facts, in possession of the 
 
CHRIST IN HIM. 461 
 
 Board, which went far to discredit his views. The 
 secretary quietly handed him the record, and, upon 
 examining it, he saw his error, and gracefully con- 
 fessed it. 
 
 In matters of fact, he was liable to error. This 
 he well knew, and it rendered him cautious in speak- 
 ing. His half-knowledge never made him dogmatic : 
 it only rendered him, modest and careful. 
 
 He studied principles rather than men, and in 
 matters of doctrine, he rarely went awry. If, how- 
 ever, he misquoted a scripture text, or misstated a 
 doctrine in ethics, or religion, he gladly suffered cor- 
 rection. His bearing toward an opponent, was the 
 perfection of courtesy. Difference in age, or learning 
 was nothing to him. He was willing to learn from 
 any, however humble or obscure, they might be. 
 Here is a pleasant little incident, furnished by Rev. 
 J. B. Hutson, which finely exemplifies his spirit : 
 
 It so happened that I got into a private controversy with Dr. 
 Jeter, on the question of dancing. He maintained that dancing is 
 not sinful per se, and that it is not a sufficient cause for church 
 discipline, except when carried to excess, or attended by other 
 wicked conduct. 
 
 I argued that the example was bad, that it often led to ruinous 
 sins, that it was a great grief to many pious people, and that it 
 laid a stumbling-stone in the way of the weak. All this he ad- 
 mitted might be true, but he insisted that we are left to liberty 
 and charity in regard to such matters, as to whether we will re- 
 frain from lawful things for the sake of others or not. Said he : 
 " It is a matter of love, and you cannot make a law for love." 
 
 Sitting in his study one day, the discussion was resumed. He 
 asked me seriously for my authority, in excluding a member from 
 the church on the charge of (persistent) dancing. I referred him 
 to the language of the apostle in regard to eating meats offered to 
 
462 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 idols. He picked up his Testament, with which he was so familiar, 
 and, turning at once to the 8th chapter of 1 Corinthians, he be- 
 gan to read, commenting with earnestness from verse to verse, in 
 favor of his views upon the subject. By and by, he came to the 
 12th verse and read, " But when ye sin so against the brethren, 
 and wound their weak conscience, ye sin against Christ." He 
 paused a moment, looked thoughtful, closed the book, and said, in 
 his peculiar voice, with deep emphasis, " The apostle seems to con- 
 demn it." And there the discussion ended. But I was amazed at 
 the honest candor of the great and noble man that sat before me. 
 
 A gentleman said recently that he believed that it 
 was impossible for Dr. Jeter to see an error in another 
 without telling him of it, if he had the opportunity. 
 This might strike a stranger, as a decidedly disagree- 
 able virtue. But not so. As a critic, he was pecu- 
 liarly amiable and sympathetic. He became a critic 
 by having to educate himself. He loved those who 
 helped him in that long struggle, and his real motive 
 in criticising others, was to help them. He did his 
 work in a genial, respectful way. 
 
 I must admit that his amiability was not adequate 
 to every emergency. Now and then, when he fell afoul 
 of a pedant or a crank, the point of his blade was 
 painfully sharp. When one had marked faults in his 
 character, the Doctor would put in his knife until it 
 went to the root of the matter. At times, he worked 
 in his criticisms indirectly. One preacher was criti- 
 cising another on his sermon in a tart way. Among 
 other things, he expressed contemptuous surprise at 
 the smallness of the preacher's crowd. " Was his 
 house crowded ? " Dr. Jeter asked. " No," said the 
 man, " it was not one-third full." " Then," said the 
 Doctor, " why did you speak of his crowd ? " By this 
 
CHRIST IN HIM. 463 
 
 time, it dawned upon the brother, that he was talking 
 too much. 
 
 Perhaps no man ever fell under the Doctor's criti- 
 cisms so often as this writer. He seemed to feel at 
 perfect liberty to pick me to pieces whenever we met. 
 I went into his office, one Monday morning, when he 
 greeted me with unwonted cordiality. He said : 
 " Sunday before last you preached an uncommonly 
 fine sermon. It was capital. I did not think that 
 you could preach so well." 1 thought he was spread- 
 ing the pleasant ointment with unusual thickness, 
 when he added, " But I think your sermon yesterday 
 morning was one of the meanest that I ever heard any- 
 body preach in my lifer I mildly suggested that he 
 would please strike an average in his criticisms, but 
 he insisted that when a sermon was mean, it ought to 
 perish without mercy. 
 
 At another time he said to me, " You had a good 
 sermon last Sunday, but you spoiled it by the violence 
 of your delivery." He was very anxious to correct 
 a peculiarly grievous blemish in my manner, and 
 after whacking me about it, again and again, he wrote 
 a critical article at my expense, and published it as an 
 anonymous communication in the Religious Herald. 
 
 It seemed natural for him to criticise people — that 
 is, in their presence. If a guest used a wrong word 
 at his table, he would call him to account. 
 
 HIS COURAGE. 
 
 By nature Dr. Jeter was bold and aggressive. He 
 was fiery in his purposes and defiant of obstacles. 
 But in his matured christian life, he was very gentle. 
 
464 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 His fierce, exacting spirit had found its place at the 
 foot of the cross. 
 
 But this does not mean that he had become tame, 
 spiritless or yielding. It simply means that his 
 courage had gotten out of his blood, into his con- 
 science. In committing sin, or in any wanton deed 
 he was a coward. He was afraid to do wrong. The 
 very thought of harboring evil, or conniving at 
 wrong, would have convulsed him into terror, but he 
 was not afraid to do right. In the discharge of his 
 duty, he was intrepid and heroic. In his youth, he 
 stood in the forefront of the temperance movement 
 of Virginia, and bore obloquy and injury, without dis- 
 may, and when, in after-days, he saw violent men 
 making shipwreck of the temperance cause, by their 
 vicious methods, he turned and fought them. His 
 standing in the old Triennial Convention, for a half- 
 hour, waiting to be heard, and never yielding to the 
 vociferous outcry against him, constituted a scene of 
 moral sublimity. He was then a young and untried 
 man, but he stood the ordeal with transcendent 
 strength and composure. The battle which he fought 
 in Richmond, in favor of a separate church for the 
 negroes, was one whose violence and peril it is hard 
 now to estimate. But he never quailed before the 
 popular scowl. 
 
 But to me, the most pleasing sign of his intrepidity 
 was his composure in defeat. He did not court dis- 
 aster, but he was not afraid of it. He was often 
 frustrated in his plans. He was too conservative to 
 be in harmony with the extreme men, and too pro- 
 gressive to find a following among the old fogies. The 
 
CHRIST IN HIM. 465 
 
 result was, that he frequently operated without a 
 constituency. It was his fortune in many cases to 
 stand alone, and he once said to me, that he supposed 
 he had been more frequently defeated in his proposi- 
 tions, than any other man in the denomination. He 
 lived a long time, however, and saw many of his 
 measures which were rejected, when first introduced, 
 afterwards taken up and adopted. Sometimes those 
 who helped to defeat him, resuscitated his schemes, 
 adopted them as their own, and pushed them to suc- 
 cess. I used to enjoy seeing him defeated — it made 
 me love him more to see how calmly he took it. It 
 was not a case in which the lion lay down with the 
 lamb ; it was the lion becoming the lamb. 
 
 I have been free to speak of Dr. Jeter's high and 
 ambitious spirit. In his youth, it was looked upon 
 by his older and more sedate brethren, as the great- 
 est blot upon his ministerial character. We may well 
 believe that it took a long and prayerful struggle to 
 subdue it. By the grace of God, he won a complete 
 victory. The last vestige of self-seeking and pride 
 seemed to have been swept from his heart. He be- 
 came as guileless, unconscious and docile as a little 
 child. The spirit of the lamb reigned in him. 
 Earthly honors ceased to charm him ; his dreams of 
 greatness faded away ; human praises lost their power 
 to intoxicate him, and for years it could have been 
 truthfully said of him, that though in the world, he 
 was not of it. 
 
 In his old age he was treated with the utmost 
 veneration. The highest seat after which he had 
 yearned in his youth, was constantly offered him, 
 30 
 
466 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 but he did not desire it. He cared nothing for office, 
 and took it for its burdens, and not its distinctions. 
 
 His lofty and serious bearing imparted a certain 
 severity to his manners, which some mistook for 
 haughtiness. In speaking once of the charge some- 
 times made against him by his kindred, that he was 
 proud, he said, " They do not know me. I have not 
 forgotten the rock out of which I was hewn. I have 
 a thousand things to make me grateful, but not one 
 to make me proud." 
 
 Before the Lord, he was indeed lowly in spirit. 
 There was not one touch of Phariseeism in him. He 
 not only believed that his salvation was the gift of 
 divine grace, but in every prayer, he renewed the 
 confession of his sins and demerit, and threw himself 
 helplessly upon the mercy of Christ. 
 
 Of his abilities as a preacher he had the lowest 
 opinion. He rarely spoke of his sermons after 
 preaching, except in reply to the remarks of others, 
 and then always with the utmost modesty. How he 
 felt about his preaching comes out in this incident 
 from Dr. John A. Broaddus : 
 
 It was probably in 1857 that Dr. Jeter preached, during a 
 week of protracted meeting, in Charlottesville. I have often said, 
 and still see no reason to change the opinion, that it was the best 
 series of protracted meeting sermons I ever heard. There was no 
 display of specific adaptation to the occasion, but the real adapta- 
 tion was most admirable. Every sermon made the pastor glad 
 that precisely this and no other had on that evening been given ; 
 and the rapport, the sympathy, between preacher and hearers 
 grew steadily day by day. It was on this occasion that he made 
 a remark which was published without his name in a treatise on 
 Homiletics. He was reclining one afternoon, with a look of that 
 
CHRIST IN HIM. 467 
 
 weariness which is apt to come by reaction during a series of 
 special efforts ; and at length he said, " Well, I must get ready- 
 to preach. But I can't preach. I never did preach." And then, 
 with a look curiously blended of eager longing and sadness, he 
 said, as he sprang up on the couch, " Oh ! I never heard anybody 
 preach." What earnest minister has not again and again felt that 
 the gospel is higher than all human reach, even as the heavens 
 are higher than the earth? 
 
 HIS GREAT-HEARTEDNESS. 
 
 During the last five years of Dr. Jeter's life I was 
 his pastor, and I do not know how I can better set 
 forth his Christian spirit than by mentioning a few 
 facts which I observed during that period. 
 
 Dr. Jeter was, beyond all comparison, the most 
 devout, reverential and responsive worshipper that I 
 have ever known. He had all the traits which fit 
 one for that exalted service. He loved the courts of 
 Zion. He rarely failed to be present at both services 
 on Sunday, and at the prayer-meeting on Wednesday 
 night, unless on duty elsewhere. Neither bad 
 weather, nor company kept him away. If absent on 
 any account, he was careful to explain or apologize 
 when he next met me. His pew was just in front of 
 the pulpit, and he made it a point to be in his place 
 when the worship began, often coming in just at the 
 moment. 
 
 He entered into the exercises with a wakeful, unc- 
 tuous interest. He sang the hymns — every one of 
 them — from the first line to the last, if he knew the 
 tune ; and if he did not, he kept his eye on the 
 words, as if trying at least to sing with the spirit. 
 He heard the Scriptures read with a tender, solemn 
 
468 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 awe, as if listening to the voice of God. He was a 
 magnificent hearer — open-eyed, upright and eager. 
 He rarely appeared drowsy. If the preacher com- 
 mitted errors in interpretation, doctrinal statement, 
 or even in emphasis, or grammar, he might expect 
 to hear from the Doctor later on that subject, and 
 yet, his mien was so benignant and friendly, that his 
 presence was always refreshing. His smile, his glis- 
 tening eye, his unconscious bows, his falling tears and 
 beating breast were signals of cheer and support. It 
 was positively awful to mark the depth and ardor of 
 his worship. One could not look at him without feel- 
 ing that his worship was an earnest and living thing. 
 
 At the Lord's Supper he was always peculiarly 
 solemn, and often in tears. At times he would break 
 down completely and sob aloud. Whenever we sang 
 " There is a fountain filled with blood," it seemed to 
 melt him completely. The people often cried in 
 sympathy with him. His prayers at the table were 
 tender and grateful. 
 
 At the prayer-meeting, he had a seat to the right 
 of the pulpit. Now and then, he came, spent the 
 hour in worship and then, left without a word. He 
 was not asked to speak, but he knew that he was 
 always heard with pleasure, and if the spirit moved 
 him, as was often the case when the pastor was dull, 
 he would speak. His talks were occasional and al- 
 ways short. He never rambled. He rose to say 
 something, and when he said it, he quit. I think 
 that the most luminous and eloquent strains that 
 ever fell from his lips were in his off-hand prayer- 
 meeting talks. 
 
CHRIST IN HIM. 469 
 
 "One night the pastor made an address on " Providence in the 
 Christian's Life." At its close a hymn was sung, and then Dr. 
 Jeter came out, and asked that he might bear his testimony to 
 God's protecting care over him. He related an experience in 
 which he had been brought very low. An enemy, gratuitous in 
 his malice and crafty in his methods, had struck him a blow 
 which put his name and usefulness in great peril. He had no 
 means of defence, and was compelled to take his trouble to the 
 Lord, who, by an extraordinary providence, delivered him from 
 the power of his enemy. The story was well told, and when it 
 ended, the power of God was in the place." 
 
 At the annual meeting of his church, reports were 
 always presented from the officers and committees as 
 to the year's work. Many shunned the meeting be- 
 cause of its statistical heaviness, but he went and 
 watched eagerly every item in the reports. Good 
 reports found approval in his silent smiles and nods ; 
 but if any chanced to be lame and poor, you might 
 look out for Dr. Jeter. He would hit upon some 
 item, worthy of praise, and so shield the recreant 
 committee, from undue censure, as to put everybody 
 in a good humor. The church once adopted a meas- 
 ure which he did not favor, which prompted him to 
 say : " I like this measure and will support it — 
 not that I really do like it, but I see that you 
 like it and that makes me like it." A simple thing 
 for an old man to say, and yet there was enough old- 
 time religion in it, to raise the spiritual temperature 
 of the whole church. His nature was full of light, 
 and lighted others as well as himself. 
 
 During his life, I felt no need of outside help, in 
 protracted meetings. Not that it was understood 
 that he was to help, and not that he ever dreamed 
 
470 LTFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 that he did give any aid worthy of mention. What 
 he did was spontaneous, and was always apt, timely 
 and effective. In instructing inquirers he was un- 
 excelled. It was affecting to see him, over seventy- 
 five years old, on his knees, beside a weeping sinner, 
 trying humbly to point him to the cross. 
 
 At the beginning of one of the protracted meetings at Grace 
 Street, he suggested that each member would select an individual, 
 as an object of prayer, saying that he would do the same thing. 
 As the meeting advanced, he referred to the matter several times, 
 urging the brethren not to grow weary in their prayers, and say- 
 ing that God had not yet heard him, but that he felt sure that he 
 would. One night there was a great crowd present, and a deep 
 interest prevailed. Just before preaching, the pastor said that if 
 any persons had received Christ since the night before, he would 
 be glad if they would come forward and confess their faith. 
 Several came, among them a young man, well known, upright and 
 respected, but to that time, utterly inaccessible on the subject of 
 religion. He had never indicated the least desire to be a chris- 
 tian, and, by a sort of repulsive dumbness, had balked every at- 
 tempt to reach him. As he moved up the aisle, the light of a 
 happy surprise broke over the face of the congregation. Dr. 
 Jeter was in his favorite chair, near the pulpit, and as the young 
 men approached the pastor, he sprang up and seizing his hand 
 said, so as to be heard all over the house : " Why, George, is this 
 you ? I knew you would come. Here he is, brethren ; here is 
 the man I have been praying for. God has heard me." Then, 
 with a radiant and tearful face, he testified to the faithfulness of 
 God in hearing the prayers of his people. 
 
 I beg to add here an account of the last prayer- 
 meeting Dr. Jeter ever attended in the Grace Street 
 Church : 
 
 In December, 1879, Dr. Jeter requested that the church would 
 hold a " Promise Meeting," and that each one would come pre- 
 
CHRIST IN HIM. 471 
 
 pared to name some Scripture promise which had been fulfilled 
 in his own case. The suggestion was new and drew together a 
 large company. After the exercises were opened, Dr. Jeter arose 
 and said : " It is always painful to speak in seeming compliment 
 of myself, but while my remarks will be personal, I can declare 
 that they are not prompted by egotism or vanity. I began life 
 poor and friendless, but I soon learned to trust the promises of 
 God. I noticed many scriptures in which the Lord promised to 
 crown with favor those who gave freely of their substance to him. 
 I took him at his word and have always found my highest pleas- 
 ure in giving my heart, my time and my money to him. I have 
 never tried to make money and never craved riches, but now, an 
 old man, and near my end, I find my hands are full. I am not 
 rich, but I have enough and to spare." He then repeated the 
 various passages in which it is promised that those who give shall 
 be blessed with earthly goods, and witnessed that these earthly 
 promises had been fulfilled to him. 
 
 The scene was impressive, and had a curious and instructive 
 sequel. A widow lady having heard the announcement of this 
 promise meeting, felt that she must go. She was then in strait- 
 ened circumstances and struggling hard to live. She hoped to 
 catch some promise that would support her in the midst of her 
 anxiety. She found it hard to get to the meeting; obstacles 
 sprang up before her, but she had a pungent conviction that she 
 must hear Dr. Jeter that night. She went and his words broke 
 upon her like a revelation. She resolved that she would trust 
 God and give a large part of her earnings to him. Seven years 
 have passed and God has lifted her up and crowned her with 
 plenty. 
 
 That meeting had another thrilling episode. Among those who 
 came to bear his testimony to the faithfulness of God was Dr. H. 
 W. Davis, an honored physician of Richmond, and now a beloved 
 deacon of the Grace Street Church. As his statement was writ- 
 ten, its substance is given here: 
 
 "As one who feels that I am the least of Christ's followers, and 
 yet rejoicing that by the grace of God I am what I am, I wish to 
 relate an incident in my humble life. Almost twenty-two years 
 ago I professed conversion while a student at Richmond College, 
 
472 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 and was baptized by Dr. Jeter and became a member of this 
 church. Five years after that time grave doubts and fears gath- 
 ered upon me, and an almost irresistible disposition to neglect my 
 christian duties took possession of me and prompted me to with- 
 draw from the church. This act ever afterwards gave me the 
 deepest sorrow. 
 
 You will ask, brethren, if for seventeen years I was prayerless 
 and without hope ? No ; scarcely a day passed during that long 
 period in which I did not lift my feeble prayer to God, that he 
 would not take from my heart the assurance of my acceptance 
 with him through Christ my Saviour. This I sought in the hope 
 that I might feel justified in returning to the fellowship of the 
 church. It is one of the solemn facts of my experience that, 
 during all of that time, there blended with my petition the special 
 prayer that I might come back to the Church during the life-time 
 of the man who baptized me. 
 
 I cannot express the strange anxiety which I felt about this 
 matter. While I realized the necessity of my re-union with the 
 church in order to my christian efficiency, my doubts appalled 
 me and held me back. I could not rid myself of the idea that if 
 Dr. Jeter died before my faith was restored, my skepticism, al- 
 ready so trying, would end in a complete distrust of God's mercy. 
 This led me in later years to pray that the God of salvation and 
 mercy would spare me the bitter trial of seeing Dr. Jeter die be- 
 fore I returned to the church. 
 
 It has now been nearly a year since my righteous and patient 
 Father brought me low at the foot of the cross, and answered the 
 prayer which for seventeen years I had made. I was restored to 
 the Church, as you know, and that while Dr. Jeter yet lives." 
 
 While reading this paper Dr. Davis was standing within a foot 
 or two of Dr. Jeter. When he finished the old Doctor arose, took 
 him by the hand, tenderly congratulated him and wished for him 
 a long life. It adds much to this pathetic incident to say that 
 this was the first time that Dr. Davis ever revealed it, and it was 
 also the last time that Dr. Jeter was ever in the prayer-meeting. 
 
 Dr. Jeter was a great giver. He gave to almost 
 every worthy object that appealed to him, and gave 
 
CHRIST IN HIM. 473 
 
 in large sums. He told a laughable story of a man 
 who was an agent for the endowment of a new col- 
 lege. He was trying to raise ten thousand dollars, 
 and wished the Doctor to give him a start. He 
 plead his cause with protracted earnestness. Dr. 
 Jeter, feeling uncommonly poor at the time, was 
 pondering the question as to whether he would give 
 him twenty-five or fifty dollars. He finally asked the 
 brother how much he expected of him, when he 
 said " Fifty cents." He said he felt like a millionaire, 
 and gave him several times as much as he asked. 
 
 His friends often condemned him for his reckless 
 prodigality in giving, but he was constantly lament- 
 ing that he could give no more. He once expressed 
 the wish that he had a house full of money, so that 
 he could help every deserving cause. His maxim 
 was, that he could not afford not to give. He could 
 not sacrifice the luxury of giving for the mean 
 pleasure of having. He said that his religion didn't 
 work right when he stopped giving. 
 
 He would give in any way — publicly or privately, 
 systematically or impulsively. One morning, at the 
 close of an appeal in behalf of ministerial education, 
 he got up and said : " I came here this morning in- 
 tending to give twenty-five dollars to this object, but 
 my heart has been enlarged by the sermon, and I 
 will give fifty dollars." That helped the collection 
 wonderfully. 
 
 The last time that he ever attended a business meet- 
 ing of his church, was for the purpose of advocating the 
 repeal of a law which forbade extra collections, except 
 by the formal consent of the church. He said the 
 
474 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 rule savored of narrowness, and that a proper appeal 
 for money would hurt nobody. Giving was volun- 
 tary, and a collection compelled no one to give, and 
 if any desired to give, they ought not to be denied 
 the privilege. 
 
 He never knew how to take collections, but he 
 often helped them greatly by the promptness and 
 cordiality of his contributions. 
 
 The last time that he ever attended the Pastors' 
 Conference of Richmond was for the purpose of ad- 
 vocating the establishment of a Baptist Home for 
 Aged Women. That enterprise was enshrined in his 
 heart. He talked about it for years, and while he 
 never lived to realize his wish, it is pleasant to say 
 that such an institution now exists in Richmond — a 
 monument to his kindly and philanthropic spirit. 
 
 He was singularly responsive to appeals for help. 
 Indeed, if money was wanted for anything and Dr. 
 Jeter was around, you might safely count on at least 
 one contribution. He never knew, how not to give. 
 The gate to his treasury was off the hinges. Rev. 
 George F. Williams, now of South Carolina, states, 
 that while he was a pastor in Richmond, he once 
 made a statement, through the city papers, that he 
 had found a crippled Confederate soldier who was 
 sick and destitute. He asked that, at a certain hour, 
 persons willing to relieve the man would bring their 
 gifts to the Venable Street Church. The appoint- 
 ment fell upon a raw, gusty afternoon, and though 
 the church was located far away from Dr. Jeter's 
 home, he took his gift in hand, and carried it to the 
 place. 
 
CHRIST IN HIM. 475 
 
 His generous deeds were sometimes clothed in 
 tender and beautiful sentiment. It was one of his 
 customs, for many years, on Christmas morning to 
 fill a basket with confections, fruits and pretty books 
 and swinging it on his own strong arm, trudge around 
 to the homes of the poor, and scatter his gifts among 
 the children. Dr. A.. B. Brown relates that he was 
 once in Richmond, on the day for decorating the sol- 
 diers' graves. Walking up Grace Street, he found 
 Dr. Jeter's carriage, filled with flowers, standing at 
 his door, and that, too, after the time set for the deco- 
 ration. He rang the bell, and asked the old gentle- 
 man, if he was not going out to the cemetery. He 
 smiled, almost blushingly, and said it was too soon for 
 him to go. Dr. Brown reminded him that he was 
 already belated. Thereupon Dr. Jeter said : " I 
 never go until the others leave, and I reserve my 
 flowers for such graves as chance to be overlooked." 
 It is not easy to tell why that simple act was done, 
 and yet, who does not feel that the very glory of Dr. 
 Jeter's character shone out in it ? 
 
 Dr. Jeter never grew old in spirit. He was free 
 from that sensitive folly which leads some to conceal 
 their age, or to be wounded, when reminded of it. 
 He was infinitely above such nonsense. He had a 
 confessed horror of losing sympathy with the times, 
 or, of dwindling into imbecility. He prayed that he 
 might not outlive his usefulness. The outward signs 
 of age were manifest enough, but a perpetual freshness 
 and vivacity marked his spirit. He was radiant, hope- 
 ful, elastic and exuberant in his joy fulness, up to the 
 moment that he stepped over the line into the Silent 
 
476 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 Beyond. He was fearful of sinking down into a 
 morose old age. This story of Dr. Broaddus shows 
 that the sunlight played brightly over his soul until 
 the night came : 
 
 The last time I saw Dr. Jeter was at the Southern Baptist Con- 
 vention in Atlanta. Being requested to conduct devotional exer- 
 cises during the first morning, he read the last chapter of Second 
 Timothy, the Apostle Paul's farewell words to the world. With 
 a very quiet and tender allusion to his own advanced age, he of- 
 fered expository remarks upon the passage read, which seemed as 
 thoughtful, tasteful and impressive as anything I ever heard. I 
 think it was during that meeting that Dr. Manly and I were 
 walking with him down street. Something that was said led him 
 to observe that in youth he had determined that if he should live to 
 be an old man he would not fall into the fashion so common among 
 the old of imagining everything was growing worse. Suddenly 
 stopping on the sidewalk, and turning to us with a characteristic 
 quick movement and peculiar look, he added, "And I should no 
 doubt have carried out my resolution ; but, unfortunately for me, 
 since I became an old man, things have all been getting worse." 
 And then he laughed, as we started on, with that comical laugh 
 which we, who loved him, remember so well, and the very memory 
 of which has power to awaken cheerful feeling. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE HAPPY END. 
 
 DR. JETER'S love of life was wonderfully intense. 
 It was, in the days of his prime, his ruling pas- 
 sion, though not strong in death. He some- 
 times expressed the wish to live a hundred years. 
 During the times of his freshness, and strength, his 
 whole being glowed with vital enthusiasm. He 
 loved to live. He loved nature, loved men, loved 
 conflict, loved honor, loved to think, loved. to grow, 
 loved to learn, and loved to love. The blasts of 
 adversity sometimes struck him rudely, and his bur- 
 dens often got heavy, but sorrow never weakened, in 
 him, the earthly tie. The sea of life was often rough, 
 and threw its blinding spray into his face, but 
 the waves never went over him. Loss and grief 
 quickened his vitality. The future was his friend, 
 and, when roughly handled by the present, he took 
 refuge in hope. 
 
 The springs in his nature never wore out. Upon 
 his earthly sky, there was a never-dying radiance. 
 He enjoyed, with exquisite zest, what was, and revel- 
 led in the expectation of what was to come. He 
 was, in the highest and purest sense, an optimist. 
 His foot kept step to the music of progress. He 
 believed in the future glory of humanity, often say- 
 
 477 
 
478 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 ing that the discoveries, and inventions which have 
 already been made, were but earnests of the more 
 splendid achievements which would be made here- 
 after. Then, too, he was always hopeful, as to the 
 success of the gospel. He believed in its Divine 
 power, its steady growth and its inevitable triumph. 
 He was never infatuated with the dogmatic and 
 fanatical teachings of the adventists. He did not 
 set the day for his Lord's coming. But his keen- 
 eyed faith caught glimpses of the coming glory. 
 Christ in his view, was not only the central figure, 
 of history, and the Great Head of the church, but 
 he filled the heavens of the future. These things 
 rendered his earthly existence, unfailingly bright, 
 and kept him in high and joyous humor. This 
 world was almost a heaven to him. 
 
 Not that he dreaded death. He knew his frail- 
 ties, and foresaw the inevitable. But death stood far 
 from him, and rarely annoyed him with its harbin- 
 gers. His deep, passionate love of life did not spring 
 from a mere horror of the grave. He longed to live, 
 because life was worth living. 
 
 He was not tormented by any uncertainty as to 
 his future. He did not cling to the ship from a 
 dread of the sea. His arrangements, as he some- 
 times calmly said, were made for eternity. His 
 faith in Christ, as his Saviour, was a conscious thing. 
 He knew Him whom he believed, and was strong. 
 I heard him say publicly, several times, that if his 
 religious hopes were not well founded, he would prob- 
 ably die without finding it out. He was so clear 
 in his assurance, so deep and strong in his joy, and 
 
THE HAPPY END. 479 
 
 so entranced by his heavenly anticipations, that he 
 said, if deluded, he never expected to be undeceived. 
 Whether saved or lost when he died, he had in him. 
 while he lived the unclouded persuasion that he 
 would be saved. Eternity had no terror for him. 
 
 As he grew older, the grace of God' sanctified, 
 without extinguishing, his vital ardor. He came 
 gradually to link more intimately his labors with 
 his life. For him to live was Christ. The highest 
 charm of his latter days was his work. 
 
 Pleasure and recreation only whetted his energies, 
 and seasoned his toils. He was no drudge, spurred for- 
 ward by necessity or by fear. As a trusted servant, 
 free to choose his tasks, he was eager to surprise his 
 master, by the measure and the manner of his service. 
 
 In 1870, he had a sudden and dangerous sickness. 
 His disease was peculiar, difficult to reach, and liable 
 to produce speedy death. It laid him very low, 
 racked him with suffering, and brought him, face to 
 face, with the dread monster. His calmness was 
 extraordinary. Apart from his physical anguish, he 
 betrayed no sign of weakness. He was not afraid 
 to die, but he was utterly unwilling to die. He 
 evinced an almost obstinate determination, not to 
 die. He said that he was not ready to leave the 
 world. He had no enemies to reconcile, nor ha- 
 bits to break, nor business complications to set- 
 tle, and he did not ask for time to examine anew, 
 the foundation of his hopes, but he did have a pro- 
 found conviction that his work was not finished. 
 He insisted, that he must be cured, and persevered, 
 until he discovered the surgical expert who gave 
 
480 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 him relief. At the critical moment, when death 
 seemed imminent, he was rescued. He speedily 
 regained his vigor, and returned to his work, but, I 
 think, that, ever afterwards, he looked upon his life 
 as, in a peculiar sense, a loan from the Lord. He 
 wore the sobered mien of one who had heard the 
 ringing of the first bell. His sense of age and 
 frailty grew stronger. 
 
 A brother congratulated him on his recovery, and 
 said something as to his perennial youth. He re- 
 plied in a serene, and yet wonderfully solemn way : 
 " No ; my youth is gone. I am now old, and I must 
 not shut my eyes to the fact." He said, next to 
 nothing, about his death, and, yet in my frequent 
 intercourse with him, he was constantly making me 
 understand, that the thought of dying was in his 
 mind. He did this, with such delicate and wordless 
 art, that I could not tell when or how it was done. 
 He was always reminding me, and yet never remind- 
 ing me, of his approaching end. Now and then, per- 
 chance, he dropped a word which hinted the secret 
 of his thoughts, but never by word, nor act did he 
 suggest, that the coming event cast a shadow across 
 his soul. Death was a decree of heaven, and he 
 was submissive. 
 
 At the Southern Baptist Convention, which met in 
 Nashville, Tenn., in 1878, he was called out, one 
 morning, to speak. As he slowly ascended the plat- 
 form, there was, in his appearance, a mellow and 
 chastened dignity which no words could describe. 
 After addressing the president, he paused for several 
 moments, with his head gently bowed and a tinge of 
 
THE HAPPY END. 481 
 
 sadness on his face, and then said in measured ac- 
 cents : " I came to this meeting, brethren, with the 
 purpose to behave myself as a weaned child — not in- 
 tending to speak one word." This was followed by 
 another pause. The scene was impressive. It was 
 luminous with great suggestions. It told more 
 plainly than words, that the old veteran was quietly 
 unbuckling his armor and preparing to retire from 
 the battle-field. To his more observant friends, it 
 was evident enough for several years, that he was 
 noiselessly untying his boat and getting ready for 
 the voyage. 
 
 He believed fully in the doctrine of the future 
 state. He said that he had recast many of his old 
 opinions, but as to the immortality of the soul, the 
 reward of the righteous, the ruin of the wicked, and 
 the exaltation of Christ, he believed them with a 
 faith which had been growing for sixty years. Dr. 
 Jeter believed in an intermediate state, — not in a 
 state of isolation or of unconsciousness for the de- 
 parted soul, but in the dwelling of the disembodied 
 and redeemed spirit, in the presence of God, until the 
 day of the resurrection. Death opened to him the 
 Pauline vision of an instant presence with the Lord. 
 
 We attach deep significance to the dying testimony 
 of saints. It is valuable. It comforts the survivor 
 and braces faith in the sustaining power of the gos- 
 pel. Dr. Jeter estimated such testimony very 
 highly. In the several memoirs which he wrote, he 
 relates carefully the last utterances of his subjects. 
 He groups the death-bed words of Daniel Witt into 
 a paragraph, surpassingly beautiful and pathetic. 
 31 
 
482 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 But I confess that the most impressive fact con- 
 nected with Dr. Jeter's last sickness was his silence. 
 He knew that his end was at hand ; at least he was 
 strongly persuaded of it. He threw out occasional 
 remarks which indicated this feeling, and yet he did 
 not speak, with any great freedom, as to his eternal 
 prospects. 
 
 There was always a notable modesty in his faith, 
 or, rather, an indisposition to speak too confidently 
 about himself. It was only when wrought into 
 spiritual excitement, that he seemed inclined to talk 
 of his heavenly hopes. He said to his wife that he 
 had been trying to pray, but that his thoughts 
 seemed to be confused. His sufferings interrupted 
 his devotional exercises, and this may have had 
 something to do with his reticence on spiritual topics. 
 Besides, he did not know, by any extraordinary pre- 
 sentiment, that death was at hand, and he was too 
 kind to excite needless fears in others. 
 
 But it was like him to be quiet in solemn moments. 
 He heard the footsteps of the heavenly messenger 
 and a great hush fell upon him. He was still, that 
 he might hear the summons. But even his silence 
 was voiceful. It had about it, the traces of a great 
 solemnity. 
 
 I do not mean that he was absolutely silent. His 
 ejaculatory prayers, his frequent testimonies to the 
 goodness of God, his deepened sweetness of manner 
 to his loved ones, his outspoken joy in greeting his 
 friends, his repetition of Scripture, his snatches of 
 holy song in moments of relief, and even his tem- 
 pered pleasantries were so many testimonials to the 
 
THE HAPPY END. 483 
 
 steadfastness of his faith, the comfort of his hope 
 and the strength of his love. 
 
 It cannot be truly said, that he was ever despond- 
 ent during his last sickness. He had a desire to 
 live, but a desire long subdued to the Divine will, 
 and limited, by the yet stronger desire not to live, 
 unless he could work. It was not for a man like 
 him, to part company, with so happy a world as this, 
 without a pang of regret. From the earthward side 
 it was a sore affliction to die. He measured the 
 probabilities of his recovery, and used all possible 
 means to prolong his life. Solemn and anxious, his 
 situation made him, but not despondent. 
 
 His spirit never lost its playfulness. A lady 
 called one morning and found him alone in his 
 chamber, in a studying gown, much the worse for 
 wear. In reply to her question as to how he felt, he 
 said, " My condition is comfortable, but my appear- 
 ance is frightful." He then explained that he had 
 another gown — a new one and very fine — too fine to 
 be sick in. 
 
 Before his fire, was a rug on which were the fig- 
 ures of two dogs, suddenly aroused by the approach 
 of a cat, and ready for a battle. This scene caught 
 his eye, and seemed greatly to entertain him. He 
 indulged in humorous surmises, as to the probable 
 issue of the impending conflict. He lectured the 
 dogs and counselled the cats. By this and other 
 means, he did much to break the tedium and dispel 
 the gloom of his sick chamber. 
 
 To one of his friends he gave, a few days before his 
 death, a graphic account of his experience in estab- 
 
484 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 lishing the First African church in Richmond. The 
 whole scene seemed opened before him, and he re- 
 hearsed it, with a vividness enhanced, perhaps, by the 
 undue excitement under which he was then laboring. 
 
 In physical suffering, he was a child. He had 
 known very little of it, and could not bear it, so 
 bravely, as some. His paroxysms were terrible, and 
 he came to dread them. It was, perhaps, under that 
 feeling that he said, beforehand, of the night in 
 which he died : " I am apprehensive of this night." 
 Deep words they may have been, and laden with a 
 meaning unknown to us. Perchance he penetrated 
 the shadows of that night, and saw the dome of the 
 Eternal City. Perchance his quickened sense caught 
 sound of the angel, as he unlocked the gate of 
 heaven, to let him in. At least he saw the solemn 
 crisis in his fate, and named the very hour when the 
 supreme struggle would occur. 
 
 With characteristic forethought he arranged his 
 temporal affairs with a view to death. He be- 
 queathed his library and manuscripts to Richmond 
 College — a simple act of generosity and, yet richly 
 fruitful, for, out of it, sprang the costly and magnifi- 
 cent Library Hall, which is now the most imposing 
 feature of the college which he loved so well. He 
 also expressed a desire for the republication of his 
 works, and sermons, and requested Dr. John A. 
 Broadus to act as his literary executor. This service, 
 owing to manifold engagements, Dr. Broadus felt it 
 necessary to decline, to his own regret and to the regret 
 of many others, but to none so much as this writer. 
 
 Many allusions have already been made to Dr. 
 
THE HAPPY END. 485 
 
 Jeter's physique. It was an almost perfect organism. 
 It worked like a thoroughly adjusted, and well-lubri- 
 cated engine, and performed its varied functions, 
 with almost unbroken regularity, for nearly four- 
 score years. Its muscles never contracted, nor stiff- 
 ened to the hurt of his work. 
 
 But after all, it was a body. It had upon it, the 
 seal of mortality. It could not resist the silent work 
 of deterioration. It was well made and faithfully 
 preserved, but it was made to die. Neither native 
 vigor, nor the wisest moderation, nor the broadest 
 and most pervasive piety, nor the highest medical 
 art could protect it from decay. Dust it was, and 
 unto dust it had at last to come. 
 
 When he died not a few persons evinced a desire 
 to ascertain the physical causes of his death. As 
 this is a topic with which I do not feel capable of 
 dealing, I am pleased to present a statement from 
 his physician, Dr. M. L. James, on that subject. 
 He not only speaks as an expert, but his paper 
 breathes a spirit fully in harmony with the religious 
 character of this volume. 
 
 Dr. Jeter's physical organization was one of the most perfect I 
 have ever known, and until the last ten years of his life the functions 
 of his body were as well performed as the outlines of his figure were 
 well proportioned. This perfection was the result of a naturally vig- 
 orous constitution and exceptionably good habits in meeting the re- 
 quirements of health. To a degree observed by few other men that 
 I have known, he was temperate in all things. He never used to- 
 bacco, stimulants, or any agents which specially impress the nervous 
 system, except coffee and tea, and these even in moderation. And 
 yet he had no element of asceticism in his character, and subjected 
 himself to no rigors of physical discipline; but enjoyed the creature 
 comforta of life — using without abusing them. He was as literally 
 conservative in their use as, in social and moral relations, he was 
 conservative in questions of public policy. His digestion was phe- 
 nomenally perfect for a student, and his nervous system so well poised 
 
486 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 that to the last year of his life there was, what is so rarely seen in 
 men of his age, not a trace of unsteadiness in his carriage nor in his 
 hand-writing. He had an immense capacity for work, and work was 
 the joy of his life. I have seen him, when in heated seasons of the 
 summer the temperature was so extreme that most men thought only 
 of securing a degiee of comfort which made life tolerable, work with 
 an intensity of energy that would have been commendable when the 
 thermometer was at zero. And yet I never knew him to work exces- 
 sively except at one period (to be presently referred to), when mis- 
 led by over-estimating his powers of endurance. In his observance 
 of the laws of physical health, as in other respects, he exhibited his 
 usual wisdom and piety, recognizing that the same God who has or- 
 dained moral laws has also established physical laws, and their vio- 
 lation is both sinful and injurious. Under such discipline — discipline 
 truly judicious tho' not austere ; I may say, Godly discipline — Dr. 
 Jeter developed a body which was a fit instrument for his soul, and 
 without a body of such strength he could never have accomplished 
 in life what he did accomplish ; and become, as in the judgment of 
 many thoughtful men he did become, one of the most truly great 
 men which his State has produced in his generation. 
 
 Under such regimen his strength remained unabated almost to the 
 last. Ten years previous to his death, to the professional inquirer, 
 searching for the evidences of decline, there were some organic 
 changes common to advancing years, that could be detected ; but to 
 the ordinary observer, he would have appeared as being in the full 
 possession of his physical faculties. Three or four years previous to 
 his death, however, the wearing effect of time was distinct, but not 
 marked. It was about the beginning of this period that I remember 
 meeting him upon the pavement one day, and being struck by the 
 remarkable elasticity of his movements, with a familiarity made 
 allowable in the disparity of our ages by his own genial spirit, I 
 remarked interrogatively, " Still growing younger?" He answered 
 with some seriousness, but no sadness : No ; I feel that I am grow- 
 ing older." 
 
 But to the last year of his life, I never perceived any decline in 
 the faculties of his mind. In this connection I may repeat a re- 
 mark strikingly illustrative ot his mental traits and of his wisdom. 
 Coming into his presence one day, he half-playfully and half-seriously 
 remarked to me: " I have just been thinking how I should find out 
 when I had got into my dotage." 
 
 Another result, doubtless, of his judicious regimen, was his ex- 
 emption from serious sickness through nearly his entire life. He in- 
 formed me that, except a short spell of malarial fever during his pas- 
 torate in the Northern Neck of Virginia, which in such an atmosphere 
 was probably unavoidable, until the year 1867, when he was sixty- 
 five years old, he had never had any sickness worthy of note. 
 
 In the spring of 1867, however, after very laborious and protracted 
 work in the editorial chair of the Religious Herald, he was seized 
 with very unpleasant head symptoms which awakened serious appre- 
 hensions in his own mind and in the minds of his friends, lest they 
 should prove the premonitions of paralysis. Satisfied, myself, how- 
 ever, that these troubles were only a very aggravated form of nervous 
 prostration, the result of his intense and protracted labors, I at first 
 
THE HAPPY END. 487 
 
 advised (he having informed me that it was important that he should 
 remain at home) that he should reduce the amount and intensity of 
 his labor. But very soon finding that, with his devotion to his work, 
 the necessary moderation was at least uncertain, as long as he felt 
 the responsibilities of his office, I advised him to take a protracted 
 season of relaxation, in a region remote from the publication of the 
 paper. Under that advice he spent an entire summer in Canada, 
 doing no writing whatever, except during the last few weeks of his 
 vacation, when he sent an occasional letter to the Herald, descriptive 
 of the country. This respite from labor and responsibility had the 
 desired effect, and I very well remember, upon his return, when I met 
 him upon the pavement, his manner of describing his delight and the 
 completeness of his recovery was, that when he went out to walk he 
 felt that he wanted to fly. 
 
 In the summer of 1870, again, while attending a meeting of the 
 Middle District Association, in the county of Powhatan, he was seized 
 with a violent inflammation of the bladder, a result in part of one of 
 the organic changes referred to as the product of advanced life. His 
 sufferings were intense, and with great difficulty he reached his home. 
 For several days afterwards life seemed to be hanging by a thread. 
 The public mind was greatly exercised at his alarming illness. There 
 were repeated meetings of his brethren for prayer for his deliverance. 
 God answered those prayers, and in a comparatively short time, after 
 a season of the most intense suffering and extreme prostration, he was 
 as completely restored as the organic changes would allow. 
 
 From that time to the middle of January, 1880, Dr. Jeter's health 
 was good. Then there was a return of the last trouble, as a result of 
 cold. It was in a mild form at first, but in the course of a day or two 
 became so serious that he sought my counsel. For four days the 
 trouble was marked by great severity, but then responded so favor- 
 ably to treatment, that hopes were inspired that in a short time he 
 would again be able to resume his accustomed labors. While suffer- 
 ing from considerable physical debility, his mind seemed as vigorous 
 as ever, and he was disposed to indulge his natural playfulness, which 
 is remembered by his friends as so characteristic. Occasionally, how- 
 ever, he expressed some doubts as to the final issue, and more than 
 once expressed the hope that his life might terminate with his capa- 
 city for usefulness. During this period I saw him daily. He was en- 
 tirely submissive, and his faith was always steadfast. 
 
 On Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday of the week preceding his 
 death he rode out each day, and enjoyed the rides, except that of 
 Wednesday. My visits were interrupted at this time by my own in- 
 disposition, but he afterwards informed me that on that day he was 
 greatly chilled and experienced a sense of great fatigue, and on Fri- 
 day was seized with a severe pain in the region of the heart. 
 
 Resuming my visits on Saturday, I saw at a glance that something 
 had occurred to sap the very foundations of his vital forces. An ex- 
 amination made it very distinct that serious inflammation of the in- 
 terior structures of the heart had taken place, constituting the disease 
 known among physicians as endo-carditis . This was attended by 
 more than the usual amount of constitutional shock, with the compli- 
 cation of congestion of the lungs. 
 
 This condition continued throughout Saturday, Sunday and a por- 
 
488 ^IFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 tion of Monday, he being delirious to a greater or less degree during 
 these days. His delirium was rather that of an unnatural activity of 
 mind than that of an irrational condition. Whenever his attention 
 was strongly aroused he was entirely himself. 
 
 The exhibition of mental power during this period was wonderful. 
 I heard him make arguments which, in logical force and compass of 
 thought, would have done credit to any man in the country, under 
 any circumstances. Sometimes, notwithstanding the wide-spread 
 wreck of his physical powers, his intellect would blaze out like a me- 
 teor. The defence of the plenary inspiration of the Scriptures was a 
 subject upon which he was greatly exercised, and was a theme of de- 
 liverance worthy of a permanent record. 
 
 Neither in his delirium, nor at any time during his sickness, did I 
 hear from him a single word wanting in faith, justice and charity. 
 
 On Monday marked symptoms of amelioration occurred, which 
 continued to within an hour of his death — his mind becoming en- 
 tirely clear when he was fully awake. During the morning of 
 Tuesday Mrs. Jeter, stating to him that the family thought him bet- 
 ter, asked him what he thought of himself. He replied that he 
 thought his condition very serious, but immediately added, "the 
 Lord reigneth, let the earth rejoice." Throughout the day he re- 
 peatedly expressed a presentiment of coming trouble at night, and 
 even designated the hour of three o'clock as the time when the trou- 
 ble would begin. 
 
 At bed-time I called for the purpose of spending the night with 
 him, as I had spent the preceding night. With his characteristic 
 consideration for the comfort of others, he insisted, with much of 
 earnestness, that inasmuch as I was not well, and he was so much 
 better, I should go home for a quiet night's rest. As I lived but two 
 squares off, for his gratification, I reluctantly consented, feeling too 
 anxious as to his condition to leave him with complete satisfaction 
 tor the entire night. 
 
 At three o'clock, true to his presentiment, he was seized with in- 
 tense suffering. I very soon reached him and found him experienc- 
 ing an unmistakable paroxysm of angina pectoris. For the unpro- 
 fessional reader, I would say that, usually, this disease is confined to 
 persons advanced in life, and while occurring in sudden paroxysms, 
 it being associated with grave organic changes, and involving the 
 most vital organ of the body, is, in such cases, almost invariably fatal. 
 The more obvious expression of these paroxysms is a violent spasm 
 of the heart. Besides the extreme pain, it is attended with an over- 
 powering sense of distress, such as is realized in scarcely any form of 
 physical suffering. 
 
 But a few months before Charles Sumner, the distinguished Senator 
 from Massachusetts, had died of it, and it is rather remarkable that so 
 many eminent men have died of it. When I reached him he was pale, 
 cold and pulseless, but entirely conscious. His consciousness was, 
 however, unavoidably absorbed in his physical agony, which was so 
 distinctly expressed in his features that it was painful to look upon 
 him. He remarked to me: " Doctor, this will carry me off," and it 
 was but too sadly apparent that his statement was true. 
 
 I was, of course, engrossed in devising and applying every con- 
 ceivable measure of relief, and yet I can still remember the scene as 
 
THE HAPPY END. 489 
 
 one of the most impressive I have ever witnessed. Hanging upon 
 the wall above the great sufferer and now dying saint was the picture 
 of his distinguished co-laborer and devoted friend, Dr. Richard Ful- 
 ler, who had already crossed the river a short time before. Pasted 
 upon the frame of this picture was the last letter which Dr. Fuller 
 had from his dying bed sent to him who was so soon to follow — only 
 three words, but words so full of meaning when uttered, so full of 
 significance as now placed — the supreme struggle. 
 
 The merciful God, whose goodness I had so often heard our vener- 
 ated and dying father recount with thanksgiving when in health, 
 compassionately made this, his supreme struggle, a brief one. In less 
 than an hour he had triumphed over death, and in a few minutes 
 more the noble features which had just now writhed in agony were 
 as free from the traces of pain as his glorified spirit was free from 
 the traces of sin. 
 
 The death of Dr. Jeter occurred at four o'clock on 
 Wednesday morning Feb. 18th, 1880. As he was 
 born on the 18th of July, 1802, he lacked just five 
 months of being seventy-eight years old. 
 
 The news of his death speedily spread through 
 the city, and created a profoundly sad impression. 
 It really seemed as if Richmond was in mourning. 
 All classes of the people, rich and poor, Jew and 
 Christian, white and colored, seemed to feel the 
 mournful spell. Nor was the distress restricted to 
 Richmond. The tidings of his death spread a pall 
 over thousands and thousands of hearts, not only in 
 Virginia, but in every section of the country. The 
 papers, secular as well as religious, published full 
 accounts of his death, and in many cases pronounced 
 the highest eulogies upon his character. Telegrams 
 and letters, almost without number, came with their 
 sad messages of sorrow and sympathy. Churches, 
 societies, boards, Sunday-schools, associations and 
 institutions of learning adopted and published reso- 
 lutions in his honor. These it would be pleasant on 
 many accounts to incorporate in this story. They 
 
490 LIFE 0F JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 would not be without their value, perhaps, in ena- 
 bling those who did not know Dr. Jeter, to form an 
 estimate of his reputation and influence. 
 
 But, in the later years of his life, he had become 
 effectually weaned from the empty honors of this 
 world. He cared nothing for them. They made no im- 
 pression on him. He was quick to honor others, but 
 he really desired nothing for himself. It strikes me, 
 therefore, that it would be more in harmony with 
 his guileless and heavenly spirit, to exclude from this 
 memorial, these formal tributes of praise. 
 
 On Thursday afternoon succeeding his death, in 
 response to a known public wish, the remains of the 
 deceased were taken from his home, and placed in 
 the Grace Street church, so that those who desired 
 might take a sad last look, at the dear face of this 
 venerated servant of the most high God. For several 
 hours, a stream of saddened and tearful people filed 
 by the coffin and viewed the body. Among these 
 were many prominent citizens, including Mr. Holli- 
 day, then the Governor of Virginia. I append here 
 a list of gentlemen, who acted as pall-bearers in the 
 removal of the body to the church, and also, of those 
 who kindly undertook the task of draping the church 
 for the funeral. 
 
 Messrs. T. J. Todd, T. H. Ellett, W. S. Pilcher, G. B. Taylor, Jr., 
 Luther Martin, James T. Dickinson, S. S. Carter, W. W. Lefew, 
 A. E. Cox, Dr. J. L. M. Curry, J. T. Ellyson and G. W. Henderson. 
 
 The coffin lid bore the following inscription : 
 
 Rev. De. J. B. Jeter, 
 Born July 18, 1802. Died February 18, 1880. 
 
 A committee, consisting of B. B. Van Buren, T. H. Ellett, W. R. 
 
THE HAPPY END. 491 
 
 Hall, E. W. Gates, Mrs. Hallowell, Mrs. Pilcher, Mrs. Ellett, Miss J. 
 M. Ballow, Mrs. Van Buren, Mrs. J. N. Parker, Mrs. O. D. Browne, 
 Mrs. S. S. Carter, Mrs. John E. Laughton, and Mrs. Dr. Curry, 
 draped the galleries and pillars supporting the same and the pulpit 
 in mourning. 
 
 The funeral was set for twelve o'clock on Thurs- 
 day. Long before the time for opening the house, 
 the churchyard and adjacent streets were densely 
 thronged with people. Very many of these were 
 unable to gain admission to the church, notwith- 
 standing that the great building was crowded, in 
 every part, to its utmost capacity. It was estimated 
 that fully a hundred ministers were present. Many 
 Baptist ministers came from great distances, at their 
 own charges, and simply, as an act of respect. The 
 exercises were very simple. His favorite old hymns, 
 " How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord," and 
 " Father, whate'er of earthly bliss," were read, and 
 heartily sung by the congregation. Four addresses 
 were delivered. They were, of course, prepared on 
 short notice, and were not, perhaps, elaborately re- 
 ported in the papers at the time. It seems due to 
 the reader that some extracts from these addresses, 
 at least, should be given. These we here append : 
 
 Rev. J. R. Gaelics, D.D.,said that he felt like a son, attempting to 
 officiate at the grave of his father. When a boy, Dr. Jeter had bap- 
 tized him; to him, more than to any other man, he had been accus- 
 tomed to turn for counsel. He looked upon it, as a precious boon 
 that he had enjoyed his friendship, and been guided by his counsel. 
 
 He remembered that when Taylor, and Witt, and Poindexter, and 
 William F. Broaddus, and Fuller, and others of our "princes in Is- 
 rael," had fallen at their posts of duty, Dr. Jeter had spoken of them 
 with deep feeling in one of our great gatherings, but had added with 
 great power: "And yet, my brethren, while these have died, Jesus 
 lives ; the Lord reigns, the foundations of His kingdom are not re- 
 moved, and we must go forward with hope to our appointed work." 
 
492 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 And so he would say as we stand by the cold clay of the grand old 
 man we were about to bury. 
 
 Rev. T. S. Dunaway, D.D., of Fredericksburg, Dr. Jeter's intimate 
 friend, said : 
 
 " For the last twenty years, I have known him most intimately. 
 Perbaps no two men whose ages, and gifts were so unequal, were ever 
 on terms of closer and more constant friendsbip. And I shall 
 ever regard, it as an honor, tbat I enjoyed the love and confidence of 
 such a man, and a blessing, that I was ever brought under his in- 
 fluence. 
 
 " Take him altogether — physically, intellectually and morally — I 
 regard Bro. Jeter as one of the noblest and highest types of his race 
 that I have known. His character was beautilully symmetrical, made 
 up, as it was, of a rare combination of the highest qualities of head and 
 heart, without that admixture of blemishes and defects, however small, 
 which so often mar the characters of good and great men. 
 
 "His judgment was sound, discriminating and impartial. His 
 counsels were wise, safe and prudent. His friendship was warm, 
 faithful and constant. His judgment of men was lenient and chari- 
 table. As a polemic and debater, he was just, ingenuous, tolerant 
 and open to conviction, for he was ever in search of the truth. As a 
 companion, he was genial and pleasant, enjoying the innocent joke, 
 yet never undignified. 
 
 " But Dr. Jeter was to be loved and admired especially for his 
 qualities of heart. Those best acquainted with his private and inner 
 life know him, to have been a man of singular purity of heart, thought 
 and expression. Every word he uttered, and every thought he ex- 
 pressed showed that they came forth from a pure fountain. His piety 
 was of the simplest and highest type. He was a close and daily stu- 
 dent of the word of God, and a man given to prayer. The last time 
 I saw him, and the last moments I spent with him, were, at his re- 
 quest, moments of prayer. He then talked of his hopes and pros- 
 pects of heaven, saying : 
 
 " ' I am a poor sinner, 
 And nothing at all ; 
 Christ Jesus my Lord 
 Is my all in all.' " 
 
 Rev. D. S. Doggett, D.D., Bishop of the Methodist Episcopal 
 Church South, said that the vast throng present was there to honor a 
 faithful and distinguished minister of Jesus. He was there to pay 
 a tribute to one whom he had known and loved for forty-five 
 years. The first Baptist preacher whom he had ever heard was 
 Dr. Jeter, preaching in the house of the grandfather of Dr. Dun- 
 away. 
 
 He was a pronounced Baptist, but none the less a pronounced 
 christian, and his life was a christian royalty which all rejoiced to 
 acknowledge and claim for our common Christianity. There was not 
 an evangelical minister in Richmond who had not grieved at his 
 death. He had done his work, and God had said, "It is enough; 
 come up higher." He made the christian's "living sacrifice," and 
 now its sweet odors are floating on the air. He did not feel that this 
 was only an hour to mourn ; we could also make it an hour of re- 
 
THE HAPPY END. 493 
 
 joicing. This was a funeral, but a funeral illuminated and robbed of 
 its gloom. Death was there, but death was robbed of his terrors. It 
 was a blessing for this man of God to have lived. It was also a bless- 
 ing for him to have died. His death was not an eclipse, but a setting 
 of the full-orbed sun, while his golden rays still linger behind. He 
 is not dead, but has been translated — has gone to meet his Lord in 
 glory. 
 
 Dr. J. L. M. Curry made the closing address, and began by saying 
 that the tearful audience and the manifestations of christian frater- 
 nity and communion, as just expressed by Bishop Doggett, were 
 the proofs, if any were needed, that Dr. Jeter had unusual claims to 
 respect and admiration and love. No one who knew Dr. Jeter would 
 hesitate to put him among the aristocracy of the world. As a 
 preacher, a pastor, an editor, a citizen, a christian, he lived up to the 
 measure of developed faculties, and was " an Israelite in whom there 
 was no guile." 
 
 Those who knew Dr. Jeter but slightly detected readily his trans- 
 parency of character, his child-like simplicity, his unsuspecting guile- 
 lessness, his generosity, courage, integrity, truthfulness. Few 
 knew how instinctively he shrank from whatever was evasive, disin- 
 genuous, insincere, untruthful. Fewer still may have known that 
 while inflexible in his opinions, and, at times, engaged in high debate, 
 in religious or politico-religious polemics, he bore himself so loftily, 
 so knightly, as to make friends of his opponents. Gladstone says of 
 Macaulay that, with great uprightness and kindliness of mind, he had 
 a constant tendency to exaggerate, to view things in violent contrasts. 
 Dr. Jeter never colored a fact, never consciously misstated an argu- 
 ment, never depreciated an adversary. He pursued only the truth, 
 but was largely tolerant and catholic in his opinions. Claiming and 
 asserting his own indefeasible right of individual judgment, he con- 
 ceded, ungrudgingly, equal latitude and liberty to every other man. 
 
 Dr. Curry said he would be doing injustice to Trustees, Faculty 
 and students of Richmond College not to utter their deep grief at the 
 loss of such a benefactor and friend. He mentioned that fifty years 
 ago, at 5 o'clock on a spring morning, Dr. Jeter met, in the meeting 
 house of the Second Baptist church, Dr. J. B. Taylor and a few 
 friends to confer on the necessity of furnishing higher education to 
 young men preparing for the ministry. Out of that conference grew 
 the Education Board, and from that Board sprang Richmond College. 
 For the half-century since, save the few years of residence in Mis- 
 souri, Dr. Jeter had been a member or President of the Board of 
 Trustees. 
 
 In that connection, Dr. Curry said Dr. Jeter's course deserved 
 special mention and praise. Without the advantage of a collegiate, 
 or ministerial education, he became a profound theologian, well- 
 versed in general literature, and a writer whose pure English and lu- 
 cid style gained for him the eulogium of the American Addison. 
 Lifting himself above the prejudices of early disadvantages, he be- 
 came the friend and benefactor of educational institutions. A back- 
 woods preacher in early life, he was the champion of ministerial edu- 
 cation, and died the revered President of the Trustees of the South- 
 ern Baptist Theological Seminary, an institution which commanded 
 his prayers, energies and contributions. He also took a deep interest 
 
494 LIFE OF JEEEMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 in the education of girls, and was the President of the Trustees of 
 the Richmond Female Institute. Nothing touching the welfare of 
 Richmond College was indifferent to him, and his last direct contri- 
 bution to the Religious Herald, of which he was the principal editor, 
 was in reference to the college. Faculty and students always had in 
 him a sympathizing and enthusiastic friend and defender. The 
 board meetings attested his punctuality, sagacity and wide-awake ac- 
 tivities. All exercises at the College, even competitive declamations 
 and annual sports of the young men, found him present with the ap- 
 preciativeness and gleesome enjoyableness of a boy. 
 
 At the time of Dr. Jeter's death, the Religious 
 Herald had several eminent gentlemen as associate 
 editors. These aided greatly in voicing the general 
 grief, by personal letters, which appeared in the 
 Herald of the following week, in which they gave 
 their estimates of their revered old chief. I append 
 extracts from these letters. I may add here that, 
 through the quick and enterprising spirit of the 
 junior editor, the Herald published an elaborate and 
 impressive notice of the death, including a good 
 likeness, an historical sketch and a full account of the 
 funeral of the deceased. 
 
 LETTER FROM DR. J. A. BROADUS. 
 
 Louisville, Ky., Feb. 19, 1880. 
 
 O what a loss ! A loss to Southern Baptists, yea to American Bap- 
 tists, a loss to the Southern Convention, to our Theological Seminary, 
 to Richmond College, to the Herald, to the whole cause of truth and 
 righteousness in the world I And there are thousands who will say, 
 as the present writer does, in deep sadness, What a loss to me ! 
 
 For, by those who knew him well, he was warmly loved. I have heard 
 persons say that he was reserved, and they could not get near him. 
 There was no real foundation for this, except that he was sometimes 
 abstracted, very changeful in his m'oods, and always perfectly natural, 
 never seeming to think of courting popularity by mere cordiality of 
 manner. I remember vividly a sojourn of nearly two weeks under 
 his roof in 1857, when preaching for him, and day by day I learned 
 to love him more warmly. Ah I what a true man he was, what a 
 genuine friend, how humble and deeply devout a Christian ! 
 
 And they who were never near enough for passionate love, but who 
 knew him at all, what one among them, but cherished high respect for his 
 sterling ability, his sincerity, honesty and conscientiousness ? Many 
 
THE HAPPY END. 495 
 
 have questioned the correctness of some of his opinions, or the wis- 
 dom of his action in this or that ; but whoever thought of question- 
 ing that he was doing what he believed to be right, and that he was 
 acting in the fear of God ? Amid the collisions of life, and the mani- 
 fold exhibitions of human infirmity, that is much to say. 
 
 It was a noble example, working his way up without any educa- 
 tional advantages, and by diligent and wise study, amid the most ac- 
 tive duties of the ministry, attaining such true mental discipline, such 
 wide and exact knowledge, as his preaching and writing displayed. 
 The difference in men's advantages is a small thing compared with 
 the difference in men. 
 
 He was a preacher of great power. Very unequal — frequently mak- 
 ing comparative, and, sometimes signal failures — but that befalls almost 
 all who are excitable enough to rise high, and who allow themselves 
 freedom in speaking. And when his mood and the circumstances 
 were favorable, he not only rose high, but he carried the hearers witb 
 him, for they knew that he spoke that way only when he felt so. And 
 as to the spirit of his editorial writing, that may now be repeated 
 which I said some years ago : I have read nearly everything he has 
 published, during all these fourteen years, and while he has had many 
 editorial controversies, has been often sharply attacked, and has de- 
 fended himself stoutly, yet, so far as I know, he has never once be- 
 trayed an unlovely spirit. In looking solemnly back from the death- 
 bed the wisest and best of Christian men will have a thousand things 
 to regret, if regrets be not swallowed up in humble gratitude and sus- 
 taining hope. But as to the spirit of it, I think Dr. Jeter did not 
 write 
 
 " One line which, dying, he could wish to blot." 
 
 Some of us who write for religious papers may feel that we have 
 cause to lay that example to heart. 
 
 LETTER FROM DR. W. T. BRANTLY. 
 
 Baltimore, Feb. 19, 1880. 
 My acquaintance with Dr. Jeter began in the days of my childhood, 
 when he was the guest of my father, then a pastor in Philadelphia. 
 He was at the time residing, I think, at Lancaster C.H., Va., and was 
 on a visit to the City of Brotherly Love to see its lions, and perhaps 
 to attend to some matters of business. We walked together to the 
 Fairmount Water Works, and I remember how carefully he inquired 
 into the working of the machinery, intent on understanding every- 
 thing he saw. During the visit he preached in my father's pulpit, 
 but I have no recollection of the sermon, except the peculiar voice in 
 which it was delivered. We met again, when I was leaving Philadel- 
 phia, to enter college. Dr. Fuller was my travelling companion, and 
 as we entered the steamboat, I recognized Dr. Jeter, and introduced 
 him to Dr. Fuller. It was their first meeting, both being en route to 
 the Baptist Triennial Convention about to meet in New York. The 
 friendship, begun in boyhood, has been strengthened in age ; and the 
 more intimately I have known him, the greater has been my regard 
 for him as a man, a christian and a minister. Though a man of re- 
 markable gifts, he was ever modest and unassuming. Devoid of envy 
 
496 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 and jealousy — those mean vices which sometimes disfigure noble 
 minds — he was the hearty eulogist of excellence wherever he found 
 it. Among all our denominational writers of the day, I know not one 
 who exceeds him in the felicity with which he used his native tongue. 
 In brilliancy of style, in wealth of illustration, in rhetorical beauty, 
 in classical eloquence, we have known writers superior to Dr. Jeter ; 
 but, in the power of expressing thought forcibly and exactly, and in 
 making his meaning patent to all, he has had but few equals. The 
 thoughts of some others may move in a wider range or take a sub- 
 limer sweep, but what he saw — and his horizon was far from being 
 circumscribed — he saw clearly, and made hia readers see them in like 
 manner. Though not ornate, there was a beauty in this perspicuity 
 which imparted interest to all his writings, whilst it set forth his vig- 
 orous thinking to the best advantage. 
 
 LETTER FROM DR. JAMES UPHAM. 
 
 Chelsea, Mass., Feb. 18, 1880. 
 
 Out brother had done up one large life-work when he took his seat 
 in the editorial chair. But he brought to it, and retained to the last 
 article he penned, a vigor as of youth, an experience as ripe as it was 
 varied, a judgment ever safe, and a breadth of charity and a refined 
 courtesy that were unsurpassed. He seems to me to have lived two 
 full lives, and lived each equally well ; and now he has just gone on 
 to the ampler service of the life to come. 
 
 Thoroughly Southern by birth, education, sympathy and convic- 
 tion, he was yet clear-headed enough and large-hearted enough, to 
 rise above mere sectionalism, and to be thoroughly national in his 
 love, aspiration and labors; and no Southern man has done more to- 
 ward hastening the period when North and South shall be fully 
 united in love, sympathy and mutual helpfulness. 
 
 LETTER FROM PROF. B. PURYEAR. 
 
 Richmond College, Feb. 23, 1880. 
 
 Of late years I have been much in the company of Dr. Jeter, alike 
 from business, official and social relations. In these frequent inter- 
 views, his character opened upon rne,, in such transparent beauty and 
 simplicity, that I sought to make them as frequent as possible, and at 
 length came to feel that I had lost my best privilege, my purest plea- 
 sure, if, for any cause, I failed to have at least my Saturday morn- 
 ing's talk — whether lively or severe — with our late loved and revered 
 associate. No man susceptible to impressions, could leave his pres- 
 ence without realizing an influence, strengthening, elevating, ennob- 
 ling. His looks, his manner, his language, never conveyed the sug- 
 gestion of evil. No man, I venture to say, ever had the effrontery to 
 utter an impure thought, or propose a duplicitous policy, in his 
 presence. Whatever was little, or base, or low, skulked from his 
 presence. 
 
 I have heard men who are reputed greater preachers ; but does the 
 man live who has more effectually commended the gospel of Jesus 
 Christ? He delivered the message of his Master in words apt and 
 fit, in style terse, vigorous and clear, not seeking " enticing words of 
 
THE HAPPY END. 497 
 
 man's wisdom,'' but content, like Paul, to preach only Christ, and 
 Him crucified. He sought only to convey the truth as he believed 
 it, and his evident sincerity and singleness of purpose gave power 
 and unction to his utterances. Borne on by the fervor of truth and 
 the glow of a genuine enthusiasm, he frequently reached the loftiest 
 heights of true eloquence, and so made impressions as permanent as 
 powerful. 
 
 I have kuown more profound scholars, more brilliant men, than 
 Dr. Jeter ; it is easy to find them ; but when we consider his vigorous 
 common sense, that went directly to the gist of the matter, eliminat- 
 ing circumstance and accident ; when we consider his well-balanced 
 faculties, brought, by his own guidance, to their highest develop- 
 ment, under the most forbidding circumstances, showing an energy of 
 will competent to conquer any opposition ; above all, when we con- 
 template his moral attributes, his honesty and truth, his exact justice, 
 his unostentatious, abundant generosity, his sincerity and guileless- 
 ness, that broad, catholic spirit which entered into and qualified his 
 judgment of men and things, his simple, unwavering faith — imme- 
 diately patent to his hearers and readers — in the divine doctrines he 
 proclaimed and practiced, I have no hesitation in saying that, in the 
 best and most comprehensive sense of the term, he was the greatest 
 man I ever knew. 
 
 Rev. William S. Plumer, D.D., an eminent Pres- 
 byterian minister, was a devoted and admired friend 
 of Dr. Jeter. Col. Thomas J. Evans wrote a letter 
 inviting Dr. Plumer, to attend the funeral. Unable 
 to come, he wrote the following letter : 
 
 Columbia, S. C, Feb. 20, 1880. 
 My Dear Mr. Evans, — Some hours before your letter reached 
 me, the train had gone — the last train which can possibly reach 
 Richmond before the funeral. Please state this to the friends. I 
 loved and honored Dr. Jeter very much. I revere his memory. He 
 was an upright man, true and noble ; a dear brother in Christ; and 
 an able and faithful minister of the blessed gospel. He has got the 
 start of me. But I hope soon to meet him in a better world. I am a 
 sincere mourner, though far away. Give my love to all who loved 
 my honored and my blessed brother. I thank the friends for desiring 
 my presence. Dr. Jeter has wept with me in my affliction. I should 
 have considered it a privilege to be one of those who should carry 
 him to his burial. Faithfully yours, Wm. S. Plumer. 
 
 The following gentlemen acted as pall-bearers on 
 the occasion of the funeral : 
 
 THE PALL-BEARERS. 
 
 The following is a list of the pall-bearers : Rev. H. A. Tupper, 
 corresponding secretary of our Foreign Mission Board; Rev. Dr. T. 
 
 32 
 
498 LIFE 0F JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 L. Preston, pastor of the First Presbyterian Church of Richmond ; 
 Judge R. L. C. Moncure, of the Supreme Court of Virginia; Col. D. 
 G. Potts, of Petersburg ; Rev. J. J. Lafferty, editor of the Christian 
 Advocate; James Thomas, Jr., Hon. H. K. Ellyson, A. Y. Stokes, A. 
 B. Clarke, Charles Ellis, C. Jacob, A. P. Fox, R. H. Bosher, W. 
 Goddin, Thomas J. Evans, Rev. T. T. Eaton, Rev. A. G. McMana- 
 way, Rev. J. H. Eager, Rev. J. B. Hutson, Rev. C. H. Ryland, Rev. 
 S. C. Clopton, Rev. G. F. Williams, Prof. H. H. Harris, and Deacons 
 T. H. Ellett and W. S. Pilcher. 
 
 The day for his burial was singularly beautiful, — 
 radiant, balmy and bracing. Not only an immense 
 procession, but many persons, on foot, followed the 
 remains to the grave. Dr. Jeter had never provided 
 a section for himself in the cemetery. On the morn- 
 ing after his death Dr. Curry and myself went out 
 to Hollywood, at Mrs. Jeter's request, and selected 
 the spot for his burial. 
 
 Hollywood is very beautiful. Nature and art have 
 combined to make it a place of rare attractiveness. 
 It is a part of that broken, rugged section of country 
 which borders on James River, just above the city, 
 and is diversified by brooks, shadowed vales, hill-tops 
 and native oaks. To these natural beauties, grief 
 and love have added the choicest products of art. It 
 was a favorite resort with Dr. Jeter. He delighted 
 to drive along its shaded avenues, admire its scenery 
 and talk of its dead. It has now become the home 
 of his body, until the morning of the resurrection. 
 His grave is, on the crown of its loftiest hill, and in 
 full view of the celebrated falls in the river. It is 
 only a little distant from another elevation where 
 sleeps the dust of James Monroe and John Tyler, 
 former Presidents of the United States. Not long 
 after Dr. Jeter's death, Dr. Plumer, who had express- 
 ed the hope of soon meeting him in the spirit world, 
 
THE HAPPY END. 499 
 
 died. His remains were taken to Richmond, and 
 interred within a few paces of the place, where we 
 laid Dr. Jeter. In life, they were linked in love, and 
 often labored together. Now their bodies sleep very 
 near to each other, and their kindred spirits are with 
 God. 
 
 Some time after his death Mrs. Jeter had erected 
 in his honor a monument, — a simple, lofty granite 
 shaft — fit type of his own exalted, guileless and im- 
 perishable character. 
 
 No attempt has been made to enumerate the many 
 formal honors which were bestowed upon him dur- 
 ing his life. It may be well, however, to indicate, at 
 once, the esteem in which he was held, and the bur- 
 dens which he was called to bear, by mentioning the 
 various official positions which he held at the time 
 that death put an end to his labors. 
 
 " In addition to his duties as senior editor of the Religious Herald, 
 he was also President of the Board of Trustees of the Southern Bap- 
 tist Theological Seminary, at Louisville, Ky.; President of the Board 
 of Trustees of Richmond College ; President of the Board of Trus- 
 tees of the Richmond Female Institute ; Vice-President of the Board 
 of Foreign Missions of the Southern Baptist Convention, and Vice- 
 President of the State Mission Board of the Baptist General Associa- 
 tion of Virginia." 
 
 In his reminiscences of Dr. Jeter, Dr. Dunaway 
 wrote a very readable article on " The Monuments 
 to his Memory." After speaking of his controlling 
 influence in the General Association of Virginia, the 
 Triennial Convention and the Southern Baptist Con- 
 vention, he concluded in the following words : 
 
 " About fifty-six years ago Dr. Jeter met Dr. J. B. Taylor and a few 
 kindred spirits, at five o'clock one spring morning, in the Second 
 Baptist Church, to confer on the necessity of furnishing higher edu- 
 cation to young men preparing for the ministry. Out of that confer- 
 
500 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 ence grew the Education Board, and from the board sprang Richmond 
 College. From that time till his death, save the tew years of his 
 residence in Missouri, he was an active member of the Board of Trus- 
 tees, and, for the most of that time, the president of the Board, which 
 position he was filling with great acceptance and efficiency at the 
 time of his death. He gave to Bichmond College his thought, time, 
 labor, love and money ; and its history could not be accurately writ- 
 ten without giving his name a conspicuous place on almost every 
 page. Nothing touching the prosperity of the College was indiffer- 
 ent to him. His last direct contribution to the Religious Herald was 
 in reference to this educational institution. Richmond College, in 
 all its grand proportions and architectural beauty, stands at the head 
 of the street on which he lived and died — a monument to the noble 
 man who was one of its founders, and one of its truest, best and wis- 
 est friends. 
 
 SOUTHERN BAPTIST THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY. 
 
 Never having himself enjoyed the advantages of a collegiate or 
 theological training, he was nevertheless the friend and benefactor ot 
 all educational institutions. He was the champion of ministerial ed- 
 ucation, and took a lively interest in the establishment, growth and 
 prosperity of the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, and gave 
 liberally of his means to endow it. He was also the honored Presi- 
 dent of the Board of Trustees of that institution at the time of hi8 
 death. 
 
 It would be a fitting tribute to his memory if the Baptists of the 
 South would erect a handsome building in connection with that insti- 
 tution, or richly endow one of its professorships, as a memorial of 
 him and of his zeal, fidelity and liberality in its behalf. 
 
 RICHMOND FEMALE INSTITUTE. 
 
 Dr. Jeter was also deeply interested in the education of females 
 and was one of the founders and patrons of Richmond Female Insti- 
 tute. He was a constant visitor to that school, and was ever ready to 
 do, give and sacrifice for its prosperity. He was, at the time of his 
 death, the President of its Board of Trustees, and the Institute sus- 
 tained a great loss in his death. On the casket at his funeral, among 
 other floral offerings, was a beautiful anchor and cross of immortelles 
 with the inscription : " A tribute of love to the memory of our late 
 President, by the faculty and students of Richmond Female Insti- 
 tute." 
 
 As I look around I see other monuments to his memory, which I 
 would like to mention ; but I must forbear, as this article is already 
 too long — too long for the average reader of this restless, busy age ; 
 but too short to half tell, even in briefest outline, the wonderful story 
 of his deeds. In a former article was mentioned the valuable labor 
 performed, the good accomplished and the influence eierted, by his 
 able writings as editor and author. 
 
 What a long, busy, honorable, useful life was his ! How great is 
 and must be his posthumous influence ! What a noble example did 
 he leave behind him! What an inspiration to the living ! How rich 
 
THE HAPPY END. 501 
 
 and glorious must be his heavenly reward ! How bright his crown in 
 glory I " They that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firma- 
 ment ; and they that turn many to righteousness, as the stars forever 
 and forever." 
 
 When I think of him in his glorified state, resting from toil, care 
 and pain, dwelling amid the splendors of an eternal day, I check my 
 grief and suppress the tear of sorrow at his death, and say : 
 
 " Forgive, blest saint, the tributary tear, 
 
 That mourns thine exit from a world like this; 
 
 Forgive the wish that would have kept thee here, 
 
 And stayed thy progress to the realms of bliss." 
 
 The most conspicuous monument erected in honor 
 of Dr. Jeter was the Jeter Memorial Hall at Rich- 
 mond College. I leave it to my life-long friend, Dr. C. 
 H. Ryland, Financial Secretary of Richmond College, 
 to furnish the history of that monument. 
 
 THE JETER MEMORIAL. 
 
 Dr. William E. Hatcher: 
 
 Dear Brother: — As chairman of the Jeter Memorial Committee, 
 you are well acquainted with the history of its work, but as you 
 desire an official statement of the origin, progress and completion of 
 the enterprise, I gladly give the essential facts from the record. 
 From the time of Dr. Jeter's death there was a consensus of opinion 
 that so conspicuous a character should receive an enduring monu- 
 ment at the hands of his many friends and admirers. An informal 
 conference was held on the 9th of March, just three weeks after he 
 died, and other meetings followed on the 16th and 18th instants. 
 There was no difference of opinion as to the propriety or wisdom of a 
 memorial, but there was a wide divergence of views as to the shape it 
 should take. A few very earnestly insisted upon a statue on the 
 Richmond College campus, but the following paper was subsequently 
 cordially adopted : " In response to the very general desire that 
 some suitable memorial of the life and labors of Rev. J. B. Jeter, 
 D.D., should be secured, we, the brethren and friends who have as- 
 sembled to consider the matter, after due deliberation and considera- 
 tion, recommend the following as the most apjsropriate and feasible 
 method of meeting the wishes of all concerned and honoring the 
 memory of the great and good man whose death has so grievously 
 afflicted us. 
 
 " 1. In consideration of Dr. Jeter's attachment to Richmond College 
 and his long service in its behalf, and furthermore of the bequest of 
 his books, manuscripts and copyrights to the institution, and in view 
 of the fact? that in the present unfinished condition of the main 
 building there is no suitable receptacle for his gift, it seems to us 
 most appropriate to provide, by the completion of the college edifice, 
 for a spacious library hall, which shall bear the name of the distin- 
 guished dead and afford ample protection for this bequest. 
 
502 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 " 2. As testifying,' further, our love and admiration for this eminent 
 citizen and faithful servant of God, we recommend that a full-size 
 bust, and a full-length portrait be secured, to be placed in the hall 
 which bears his name. 
 
 " 3. That these suggestions and recommendations be adopted as the 
 sense of this meeting, and steps be at once taken to put them into 
 practical operation. With these instructions as a basis, and after the 
 appointment of a general agent and treasurer, the work was eventually 
 committed to an executive committee of five with power to act. This 
 committee consisted of Eev. William E. Hatcher, D.D., Chairman ; 
 Rev. C. H. Ryland, Secretary ; Professor H. H. Harris, James B. 
 Winston, Esq., B. B. Van Buren. H. K. Ellyson, Esq., was the Treas- 
 ures ; and Rev. A. E. Dickinson, D.D., Agent." 
 
 The consent of the trustees of the college having been secured, the 
 south wing of the main edifice of the college was let to contract in 
 the fall of 1881, with the understanding that the committee would be 
 responsible only for the erection of the building and completion of 
 the Library Hall. 
 
 It is not necessary to dwell upon the anxious labor of the commit- 
 tee. They were gratuitously and lovingly performed, and with a 
 skill that has not been questioned. The appeals of the agent were so 
 cordially responded to by friends at the North that, with the aid re- 
 ceived at home, an ample fund was in a short time secured with which 
 to complete in a most creditable manner the proposed memorial. 
 The work was gratefully accepted by the trustees of the college on 
 the 18th of June, 1884, and in the evening of the same day, in the 
 presence of a brilliant assemblage, the beautiful hall was formally 
 opened. Respectfully, 
 
 Charles H. Ryland, Secretary. 
 
 THE CLOSE. 
 
 It has already been mentioned that the funeral of 
 Dr. Jeter took place at the Grace Street Church, of 
 which he was a member. Owing to the great multi- 
 tude in attendance, comparatively few members of 
 that church, were able to secure admittance, and 
 this, together with the fact that the writer, the pas- 
 tor, was detained by sickness, led this church to ar- 
 range for a memorial service. This service was held 
 on the first Sunday morning in March, 1880, and in 
 answer to the request of the church, I delivered an 
 address on the life and character of Dr. Jeter. 
 
 This address was subsequently repeated, by re- 
 
THE HAPPY END. 503 
 
 quest, before the Virginia Baptist Historical Society 
 at its anniversary in June of that year. That ser- 
 vice, held in connection with the General Associa- 
 tion, took place in the First Baptist church, Peters- 
 burg, Va. In some respects it was a scene never to 
 be forgotten. The handsome auditorium was fittingly 
 decorated. A vast congregation, including several 
 hundred Baptist ministers, many distinguished lay- 
 men and, not a few chief women of the state, filled 
 the house to overflowing. On the platform were 
 assembled the old preachers — dear old men of God — 
 who had long been associated with Dr. Jeter in 
 christian labors. A truly heavenly spirit, sad indeed 
 and yet delightful, pervaded the assembly. It was 
 one of those unique, impressive, wonderful occasions 
 which could never be repeated and cannot be fully 
 appreciated by those who did not witness it. It was 
 the remarkable spectacle of the Virginia Baptists, in 
 solemn assembly, lamenting the loss and honoring 
 the memory of the most illustrious man that God 
 had ever given them. 
 
 Esteemed friends have urged that the address, then 
 delivered, should have a place in this biography. 
 Since, however, its historical portions and its charac- 
 terizations have already appeared, and, generally in 
 enlarged form, in former chapters, I could not com- 
 ply with the request without encumbering this story 
 with needless repetitions. I venture to present the 
 closing part of that address and with that, this loving 
 and unpretending tribute to Dr. Jeter will end : 
 
 " We have heard much mournful speech concerning the death 
 of Dr. Jeter. A wail of lamentation has filled the land, because 
 
504 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 of his departure. " What shall we do without him ? " is the sad 
 question which has trembled on a thousand lips. You remember 
 that when Moses died, the nation was in tears. A deep and 
 staggering sense of loss filled the camp. At that moment, the 
 Lord appeared unto Joshua and said : ' Moses, my servant, is 
 dead; now, therefore,' — therefore what? Despair? A broken 
 cause? No light in the future? Such, in God's eye, is not the 
 logic of providential losses. ' Moses, my servant, is dead ; now, 
 therefore, arise, go over this Jordan, thou and all this people, 
 unto the land which I do give to them, even to the children of 
 Israel.' Moses is dead, — that is sad, indeed, — but the Lord 
 reigneth and His promise endureth unto all generations. 
 
 " There is, I admit, a sorrowful aspect in the death of our 
 venerated brother. It has not only produced a shock, but a void. 
 His towering form had long loomed, in stately grandeur, before 
 us, as our trusted and inspiring leader, and it made us step more 
 firmly, because he was leading us. His like we may not hope to 
 see again. He dies without a successor, and we shall miss him. 
 
 " You must pardon me for saying that Dr. Jeter was more to 
 me than any other living man. When in the gloom of that 
 Wednesday morning, a messenger summoned me from my bed, 
 and told me that the dear old man had shut his eyes in death, I 
 confess that an anguish unutterable transfixed my heart. The 
 earth dwindled, and looked strangely empty and lonesome with- 
 out him. For a time, I could not rid myself of the feeling, as I 
 looked upon the faces of men, that the best of this world was 
 gone. Yesterday, when I came into this house and swept my eye 
 over the faces of friends and brethren, dear as life to me, I felt a 
 dreadful sense of change. He was gone, and for a moment it 
 seemed that he had taken everything with him. 
 
 " And yet we must not mar the glory of his departure by too 
 loudly bewailing it as a loss. Beneath our sorrow, there is the swell 
 of an uplifting, triumphant joy. It is said that upon his dead 
 face, there lingered the radiant traces of a smile. His life itself 
 would be an unfinished thing, if robbed of the crowning beauty 
 of its end. In going, he has left us a double heritage, — a peerless 
 life, and a victorious death. His end was a cloudless sunset. 
 
 " He did not die out of time. Let no broken shaft mark the 
 spot where sleeps his form. Let his monument be erect, towering 
 
THE HAPPY END. 505 
 
 and complete, and upon its apex, hang that crown of glory which 
 is the peculiar heritage of the old. He lived nearly ten years 
 beyond that solemn boundary which God has set to our mortal 
 pilgrimage, and in, those borrowed days, his strength was not 
 ' labor and sorrow.' His last days were his best. 
 
 " His bow abode in strength. His heart never lost its hope, 
 nor, his brain its force, nor, his hand its skill. Time scattered 
 snow-flakes on his locks; care furrowed his face, and burdens 
 bent his shoulders ; but grace kept him buoyant, joyful and busy 
 to the end. It was the wish of his heart that he might live for 
 his work, and not outlive it. The ink had scarcely dried in his 
 pen, when the angel came to call him. 
 
 " He died splendidly, — in all his ripened, glorious prime. He 
 did not crumble into decay, nor shrivel into imbecility. Disease 
 did not waste and age did not shatter him ; but, like the imperial 
 leader of Israel, he came to Pisgah, with eye undimmed and 
 strength unabated. I account his death pre-eminently happy. 
 In the stillness of the winter night, when his hour came to go, 
 his loving Father put his finger upon the enginery of his heart, — 
 that heart which had been beating, beating, beating, for nearly 
 eighty years, and beating always highest for his Father's honor. 
 He felt the solemn touch, and the vast machinery of his life 
 trembled, groaned, creaked and shivered ; but only for a moment, 
 and then, standing suddenly still, his glad spirit was out and gone, 
 upward and away, in its celestial flight. It was a translation in 
 its suddenness, and an ascension in its triumph and glory. 
 
 " When he left the world — ! Ah, but he has not left it ! I do 
 not say, for I do not know, that his spirit yet remains with us. 
 Perhaps it is so. He will come back to cheer and guard us, if he 
 may. But I do know that his grave, his memory, his influence, 
 his teachings will abide. The light of his life will not go out. 
 The track through space, along w 7 hich he ascended to his eternal 
 home, will always be luminous. I have fancied, if indeed it was 
 a fancy, that wdien the gate of pearl was opened for him to enter, 
 .truant beams of the heavenly glory broke out, and are now at 
 large on the earth. 
 
 " His death was a benediction. It will help those who survive, 
 to live better. It sets out the Christian course in its completeness 
 and beauty. His death was even better than his life, for it was 
 
506 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 the consummation and complete rounding up of that life. He 
 has not only shown us how to live, but how to die. 
 
 " His removal from earth was no loss to him. The most en- 
 trancing visions of the heavenly glory that, some of us, ever had 
 were opened by his sermons. How his soul used to climb and 
 pant, as he portrayed the glory of Christ, the exaltation of the 
 saints, and the unfading joys of the skies ! Borne upwards on the 
 pinions of faith, he seemed sometimes to catch sight of the celestial 
 city, and to mingle in its holy services. Much as he loved this 
 world, he often sighed for heaven. Indeed, earth had no charms 
 for him, except his foretaste of the world to come. For a long 
 time, before he went out from us, his heart had left us — his con- 
 versation was in heaven. 
 
 " He had a right to go. He was fairly entitled to his discharge 
 from the army of the church militant. He had more than served 
 out his time. His mansion was ready, and his rest remained in 
 waiting for him. Sixty years he had walked, and worked, and 
 waited. It makes me glad to think that he has entered into the 
 heavenly court, and now beholds the King in his beauty. 
 
 " I always speak tremblingly of heaven. It befits not us to talk, 
 in glib flippancy, of that holy, unseen world. But it seems that 
 we knew enough of Dr. Jeter to speak, in no uncertain tones, of his 
 eternal destiny. What fate befel him beyond the outer gate of this 
 world ? If he went to be with those whose spirit he breathed, and 
 whose likeness he had, then we may, in full confidence, declare 
 that he has gone to heaven. 
 
 " ' These which are arrayed in the white robes, who are they, and 
 whence came they ? These are they, which came out of the great 
 tribulation, and they washed their robes, and made them white in 
 the blood of the Lamb.' Was not the spirit of our venerated 
 brother, meet for that company ? His robes had been washed in 
 the blood, and he had overcome the world. What is the occupa- 
 tion of this white-robed multitude, which no man can number, 
 standing ^befo re the throne, with palms in their hands? Do they 
 not cry with a great cry, saying : ' Salvation unto our God which 
 sitteth on the throne, and unto the Lamb?' Why might not he 
 join that multitude, and take part in those employments? For 
 three score years on earth, he had earnestly striven to glorify God, 
 his Maker and Saviour. What is the history and inward char- 
 
THE HAPPY END. 507 
 
 acter of those who crowd about the heavenly throne, and sing 
 the song of Moses and the Lamb ? Are they not sinners saved 
 by grace, and created in the image of Christ ? Then let Jeter 
 press up and take his place in their ranks. Christ Jesus had 
 redeemed him with his own blood, and had been formed in him 
 the hope of glory. But do they tell me that the redeemed wear 
 crowns and wave palms of victory ? Why not crown him ? He 
 fought a good fight, finished his course, and kept the faith. He 
 was meet for the inheritance of the saints in light. 
 
 I confess that there was something imposing, and even regal 
 in the honors which fell upon this christian father when he came 
 to his earthly end. Who could have ever dreamed that the rude 
 Bedford boy, that set out sixty years ago, as a Baptist preacher, 
 would close his life in the midst of such distinction and grief? On 
 the day of his burial, I was imprisoned in my chamber by sick- 
 ness, and was denied, even the tearful pleasure, of following his 
 dust to his silent home. But as the cortege passed my gate, I 
 quit my bed, and with my wet face pressed against the window 
 pane, gazed at the hearse as it bore him away to the cemetery. 
 There came back to me the memory of his first entrance into Rich- 
 mond. Then, an awkward, untutored youth, clad in homespun, 
 covered with dust, astride his weary horse, and carrying in his 
 saddle-bags, all his earthly store. Thus he came then, but now he 
 was going out of the city, not to come back again. What a 
 change ! Then a stranger in a strange city, but now he was 
 going out, escorted by a great and weeping host. 
 
 I opened the papers from every part of the country, and found 
 his editorial brethren crowning him as a chief. Churches, so- 
 cieties and conventions made haste to pay him honor. Genius 
 and art stepped forward to embalm his memory, and preserve his 
 fame. Ministers of Christ of every name bewailed his loss, and 
 unveiled him to their people, as an example to them in right- 
 eousness. To-night the Baptist Historical Society calls us together, 
 to hear the story of his worth, and to plait upon his brow the 
 garlands of honor. Already a movement is on foot to erect for 
 him a monument, in harmony with his spirit, and worthy of his 
 name. 
 
 Why speak of these things ? Can we help him by pageantry 
 and swelling praises ? By no means. He never sought to honor 
 
508 LIFE OF JEREMIAH B. JETER, D.D. 
 
 himself while he was alive, and now he has passed beyond the 
 pale of every worldly distinction. But it is, at least, worth while 
 to recall the Word of the living God. " Them that honor me I 
 will honor." These kindly demonstrations in his favor are sig- 
 nificant. They are the echoes of the salute fired, on the celestial 
 plain, when he went up to get his crown. Heaven and earth 
 unite in exalting a faithful man. 
 
 We can never forget that when he came to the supreme mo- 
 ment, when he felt the cords of life suddenly snapping, and had 
 breath for only a single word, he said : " The Lord reigneth ; let 
 the earth rejoice." His dying word was an anthem and a shout. 
 From that death-bed of anguish and confusion he has passed 
 into the presence of the Sovereign of the universe, and is permitted, 
 with unclouded vision, to gaze upon the majesty and splendor of 
 his throne. O, who can tell with what exultant joy he now sings 
 " Alleluia, for the Lord God omnipotent reigneth ? " 
 
 What a happy moment when his spirit crossed the river and saw 
 the great City ! What floods of rapture swept over his soul when 
 he heard the peal of the heavenly music, and saw the face of his 
 Redeemer ! What a greeting his old comrades gave him — Broad- 
 dus, Poindexter, Taylor and Fuller ! What a moment when he 
 and Witt met in their eternal reunion ! Joy upon joy when he 
 saw again the spirit of his glorified mother. If, on the December 
 morning, he shouted as he emerged from the baptismal waters, 
 I wonder what he said at his coronation. If he could be happy, 
 amidst the changes and sorrows of this world, I wonder what his 
 feelings were when he touched the pavement of the heavenly 
 Jerusalem. If he delighted to sing while walking through the 
 valley, I wonder what note employed his lips when he stood on 
 the everlasting hills. And yet I wonder not. Hark! I hear his 
 song rolling through the skies, and this is its chorus : 
 
 " Unto Him that loved us and washed us from our sins in his 
 own blood, and hath made us kings and priests unto God and 
 his Father ; to Him be glory and dominion forever and ever. 
 Amen." 
 
COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY 
 
 0035521007 
 
 BRITTLE DO NOT 
 PHOTOCOPY