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Updated: May 23, 2025
Methodists don't mind bein' called Wesleyans, and Presbyterians don't git mad if you call 'em Calvinists, and I reckon Alexander Campbell was jest as good a man as Wesley and a sight better'n Calvin, but you can't make a Campbellite madder than to call him a Campbellite.
If your systems will not stand the scrutiny of men, how can they stand the test of the great Judge of both the living and the dead? I place a greater value upon the salvation of my soul than I do upon all earthly considerations. After my second discussion I began to baptize some of the leading members of the Campbellite Church. Among the first to be baptized were John Thompson and wife.
Here I handed my letter of introduction to William Pace, brother of my neighbor, James Pace, who received us kindly and procured us the liberty of holding forth in the Campbellite chapel. Here we were informed that the Campbellite preachers were heavy on debate; that none of the other sects could stand before them, and that no one dare meet them in public or private discussion.
He arose and noiselessly moved his chair back from the table and she saw a saturnine smile on his face, yet in his eyes there shone a glint of intolerance that mingled oddly with his gravity. "You alone?" he questioned, his gaze on the door. "Yes." "Who are you?" "Campbellite preacher." For the first time since she had been awake Dakota turned and looked at Sheila.
Only a short time after the events narrated it was arranged that Parson Hall and myself should hold another discussion in the Campbellite chapel. Parson Hall did not want to meet me in discussion, but he must do so or lose his flock, as all the people had become interested in the subject of Mormonism. We met at the appointed time, and chose two umpires to act as moderators of the meeting.
Before sitting down I extended the courtesy of the pulpit to any gentleman that wished to reply or offer any remarks either for or against what we had set forth. Parson Hall, the presiding Campbellite minister, was on his feet in a moment and denounced us as impostors.
The whole neighborhood seemed stirred, and crowds were at the altar. Fathers and mothers came seeking salvation. A few, however, among them a Campbellite minister, came with the intention of causing trouble. He wanted a chance, he said to tell the people how to find Jesus. I asked him what he would tell them. "Obey the commendments." "What commandments?" "Join the church and be baptized."
The Campbellite friends of Baker must have again been very active in behalf of their church favorite; for their influence, added to his dashing politics and eloquent oratory, appears to have secured him the nomination without serious contention, while Lincoln found a partial recompense in being nominated a candidate for presidential elector, which furnished him opportunity for all his party energy and zeal during the spirited but unsuccessful presidential campaign for Henry Clay.
So it began to look like they was a lot of things to think about and be careful of. I hadn't told Mitch because I didn't know just how he'd take it, even if he was a preacher's son; but I'd been goin' at nights sometimes down at a revival or protracted meeting at the church, not Mr. Miller's, but another church, a Baptist, I believe, or maybe Campbellite.
Religiously it was a warm time; but the water was very cold, it being one of the chilliest days I ever felt in that genial climate. "You were rather awkward, Brother Fitzgerald, in immersing those persons," said my stalwart friend, Elder John McCorkle, of the "Christian" or Campbellite Church, who had critically but not unkindly watched the proceedings from the bridge.
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