Part 3

There is yet another story of a time when Jasper was called into the country where he and a white minister were to take part in one of the combined funerals so common at that time. Upon arriving at the church the white minister was unutterably shocked to find that his associate in the services was a negro. That was too much for him, and he decided on the spot that if he went in, Jasper would have to stay out, and he decided that he would go in and would stay in until the time was over and leave Jasper to his reflections on the outside. For two hours the white brother beat the air, killed time, and quite wearied the crowd by his lumbering and tiresome discourse. After he had arrived at the point where it seemed that no more could be said, the exhausted and exhausting brother closed his sermon and was arranging to end the service. But the people would not have it so. Tumultuously they cried out for Jasper,--a cry in which the whites outdid the blacks. It was not in Jasper to ignore such appreciation. Of all men, he had the least desire or idea of being snubbed or side-tracked. With that mischievous smile which was born of the jubilant courage of his soul, Jasper came forth. He knew well the boundaries of his rights, and needed no danger signals to warn him off hostile ground. For fifteen or twenty minutes he poured forth a torrent of passionate oratory,--not empty and frivolous words, but a message rich with comfort and help, and uttered only as he could utter it. The effect was electrical. The white people crowded around him to congratulate and thank him, and went away telling the story of his greatness.

Tradition has failed to give us the name of the ill-fated brother who in seeking to kill time, seemed to have got knocked into oblivion. It is worth while to say that the white ministers were within the law in attending occasions like those described above and felt the necessity of care and discretion in managing the exercises, lest the hostilities of irreligious people should be excited against the negroes. It is due to the white people, and especially to that denomination to which John Jasper was associated, to say that under their influence the negroes, who were practically barbarians when they were brought into the South, were civilized and Christianized. A large proportion of them were well-mannered and nobly-behaved Christians at the time their slavery ended. The church buildings were always constructed so that the white people and the negroes could worship in the same house. They were baptized by the same minister, they sat down together at the communion table, they heard the same sermons, sang the same songs, were converted at the same meetings, and were baptized at the same time. Ofttimes, and in almost all places, they were allowed to have services to themselves. In this, of course, they enjoyed a larger freedom than when they met in the same house with the white people.

They know little of the facts who imagine that there was estrangement and alienation between the negroes and the whites in the matter of religion. Far from it. There was much of good fellowship between the whites and negroes in the churches, and the white ministers took notable interest in the religious welfare of the slaves. They often visited them pastorally and gladly talked with them about their salvation. These chapters are not intended either to defend or to condemn slavery; but in picturing the condition of things which encompassed Jasper during the days of slavery, it is worth while to let it be understood that it was during their bondage and under the Christian influence of Southern people, that the negroes of the South were made a Christian people. It was the best piece of missionary work ever yet done upon the face of the earth.

Another fact should be referred to here. Jasper was a pastor in the City of Petersburg even before the breaking out of the Civil War. He had charge of one of the less prominent negro churches and went over from Richmond for two Sundays in each month. This, of course, showed the enlargement of his liberty, that he could take the time to leave the city so often in pursuance of his ministerial work.

It need hardly be mentioned that his presence in Petersburg brought unusual agitation. He fairly depopulated the other negro churches and drew crowds that could not be accommodated. When it was rumoured that Jasper was to preach for the first time on Sunday afternoon, the Rev. Dr. Keene, of the First Baptist Church, and many other white people attended. They were much concerned lest his coming should produce a disturbance, and they went with the idea of preventing any undue excitement. Jasper, flaming with fervid zeal and exhilarated with the freedom of the truth, carried everything before him. He had not preached long before the critical white people were stirred to the depths of their souls and their emotion showed in their weeping. They beheld and felt the wonderful power of the man. It is said that Dr. Keene was completely captivated, and recognized in Jasper a man whom God had called.

V

“WHAR SIN KUM FRUM?”

My first sight of Jasper must always remain in the chapter of unforgotten things. The occasion was Sunday afternoon, and the crowd was overflowing. Let me add that it was one of his days of spiritual intoxication, and he played on every key in the gamut of the human soul.

Two questions had been shot at him, and they both took effect. The first had to do with creation. For a half hour he pounded away on the creatorship of God. His address was very strong and had in it both argument and eloquence. He marshalled the Scriptures with consummate skill, and built an argument easily understood by the rudest of his hearers; and yet so compact and tactful was he, that his most cultured hearers bent beneath his force.

But the second question brought on the pyrotechnics. It had to do with the origin of sin,--“Whar sin kum frum?”--as he cogently put it. It was here that a riotous liberty possessed him, and he preached with every faculty of his mind, with every passion and sentiment of his soul, with every nerve, every muscle, and every feature of his body. For nearly an hour the air cracked with excitement and the crowd melted beneath his spell. It was my first experience of that unusual power of his to move people in all possible ways by a single effort.

Jasper knew the fundamental doctrines of the Bible admirably, and always lived in vital contact with their essence. There was a kinship between the Bible and himself, and, untaught of the schools, he studied himself in the light of the Bible and studied the Bible in the darkness of himself. This kept him in contact with people and whenever he preached he invaded their experience and made conscious their wants to themselves. And so it came to pass that questions which perplexed them they had the habit of bringing to him. This question as to the origin of sin had been spurring and nagging some of his speculative hearers. They had wrangled over it, and they unloaded their perplexity upon him. So it was with this burden heavy upon him that he came to the pulpit on this occasion.

It may have been a touch of his dramatic art, but at any rate he showed an amiable irritation, in view of his being under constant fire from his controversial church-members, and so he started in as if he had a grievance. It gave pith and excitement to his bearing, as he faced the issue thus thrust upon him. As a fact, he knew that many inquirers sought to entangle him by their questions and this opened the way for his saying, with cutting effect, that they would do better to inquire, “whar sin wuz gwine ter kerry ’em, instid uv whar it kum frum.”

“An’ yer wants ter know whar sin kum frum, yer say. Why shud yer be broozin’ eroun’ wid sich a questun as dat? Dar ain’ but wun place in de univus uv Gord whar yer kin git any infermashun on dis pint, and dar, I am free ter tel yer, yer kin git all dat yer wish ter know, an’ maybe a good deal mo’. De place whar de nollidge yer need kin be got iz in de Word uv Gord. I knows wat sum dat hav’ bin talkin’ ’bout dis thing iz arter. I know de side uv de questun dey iz struttin’ up on. Dey say, or dey kinder hint, dat de Lord Gord iz de orthur uv sin. Dat’s wat dey iz wispurrin’ roun’ dis town. Dey can’t fool Jasper; but I tell you de debbul iz playin’ pranks on um an’ will drag um down ter de pit uv hell, ef dey doan luk out mity quick. De Lord Gord know’d frum de beginnin’ dat sum uv dese debbullish people wud bring up dis very charge an’ say dat He had tendid dat dar shud be sin frum de beginnin’. He done speak His mind ’bout dat thing, an’ ef yer luk in de fust chaptur uv Jeems yer’ll find de solum uttrunce on dis subjik an’ it kleers Gord furevur frum dis base slandur. ‘Let no man say,’ says de Lord, ‘wen he is temptid dat he is temptid uv Gord, fur Gord kin not be temptid uv any man, an’ neethur tempts He any man.’ Did yer hear dat? Dat’s de Lord’s own wurds. It spressly says dat people will be temptid,--everybody is temptid; I bin havin’ my temptashuns all my life, an’ I haz um yit, a heap uv um, an’ sum uv um awful bad, but yer ain’ ketchin’ Jasper er sayin’ dat Gord is at de bottum uv um. Ef I shud say it, it wud be a lie, an’ all iz liars wen dey say dat Gord tempts um? De sinnur is gettin’ towurds de wust wen he iz willin’ ter lay de blame uv hiz sins on de Lord. Do it ef yer will, but de cuss uv Gord will be erpun yez wen yer try ter mek de Lord Gord sich es you iz; an’ ter mek b’liev dat de Lord gits orf His throne an’ kums down in ter mire an’ clay uv your wicked life an’ tries ter jog an’ ter fool yer inter sin. I trimbul ter think uv sich a thing! I wonder dat de Lord duzn’t forge new thunderbolts uv Hiz rath an’ crush de heds uv dem dat charge ’im wid de folly uv human sin.

“Sum uv yer wud be mity glad ter git Gord mix’d up in yer sins an’ ter feel dat He iz es bad es you iz. It jes’ shows how base, how lost, how ded, you’se bekum. Wudn’t we hev a pritty Gord ef He wuz willin’ ter git out in de nite an’ go plungin’ down inter de horribul an’ ruinus transgresshuns in wich sum men indulg’. Let me kleer dis thing up befo’ I quit it. Bar in mine, dat Gord kin not be temptid uv any man. Try it ef yer chuze, an’ He will fling yer in ter de lowes’ hell, an’ don’t yer dar evur ter say, or ter think, or ter hope, dat de temtashun ter du rong things kum ter yer from Gord. It do not kum frum erbuv, but it kum out uv your foul an’ sinful hart. Dey iz born dar, born uv your bad thoughts, born uv your hell-born lusts, an’ dey gits strong in yer ’caus’ yer don’t strangul um at de start.

“But why shud dar be trubble ’bout dis subjic? Wat duz de Bibul say on dis here mattur ’bout whar sin kum frum? We kin git de troof out uv dat buk, fur it kuntains de Wurd uv Gord. Our Gord kin not lie; He nevur hav’ lied frum de foundashun uv de wurl’. He iz de troof an’ de life an’ He nevur lies.

“Now, wat do He say kunsarnin’ dis serus questun dat is plowin’ de souls uv sum uv my brudderin. Ter de Bibul, ter de Bibul, we’ll go an’ wat do we git wen we git dar? De Bibul say dat Eve wuz obur dar in de gardin uv Edun one day an’ dat she wuz dar by hersef. De Lord med Eve, ’caus’ it worn’t gud fer Adum ter be erloan, an’ it luks frum dis kase dat it wuz not quite safe fer Eve ter be lef at home by hersef. But Adum worn’t wid her; doan know whar he wuz,--gorn bogin’ orf sumwhars. He better bin at home tendin’ ter his fambly. Dat ain’ de only time, by a long shot, dat dar haz bin de debbul ter pay at home wen de man hev gorn gaddin’ eroun’, instid uv stayin’ at home an’ lookin’ arter hiz fambly.

“While Eve wuz sauntrin’ an’ roamin’ eroun’ in de buterful gardin, de ole sarpint, dyked up ter kill, kum gallervantin’ down de road an’ he kotch’d site uv Eve an’ luk lik he surpriz’d very much but not sorry in de leas’. Now yer mus’ kno’ dat ole sarpint wuz de trickies’ an’ de arties’ uv all de beas’ uv de feil’,--de ole debbul, dat’s wat he wuz. An’ wat he do but go struttin’ up ter Eve in a mity frien’ly way, scrapin’ an’ bowin’ lik a fool ded in luv.

“‘How yer do?’ He tries ter be perlite, an’ puts on hiz sweetes’ airs. Oh, dat wuz an orful momint in de life uv Eve an’ in de histurry uv dis po’ los’ wurl uv ours. In dat momint de pizun eat thru her flesh, struk in her blud, an’ went ter her hart. At fust she wuz kinder shame’; but she wuz kinder loansum, an’ she wuz pleas’d an’ tickl’d ter git notic’d in dat way an’ so she stay’d dar instid uv runnin’ fer her life.

“‘Ve’y wel, I thanks yer,’ she say ertremblin’, ‘how iz you dis mornin’?’ De sarpint farly shouts wid joy. He dun got her tenshun an’ she lek ter hear ’im, an’ he feel he got hiz chanz an’ so goes on:

“‘Nice gardin yer got dar,’ he say in er admirin’ way. ‘Yer got heap uv nice appuls obur dar.’

“‘Oh, yes, indeed,’ Eve replies. ‘We got lots uv um.’

“Eve spoke dese wurds lik she wuz proud ter deth ’caus’ de sarpint lik de gardin. Dar stood de sarpint ve’y quiut tel, suddin lek, he juk eroun’ an’ he says ter Eve:--

“‘Kin yer eat all de appuls yer got obur dar?’

“‘No, hindeed,’ says Eve, ‘we can’t eat um all. We got moar’n we kin ’stroy save our lives. Dey gittin’ ripe all de time; we hev jus’ hogshids uv um.’

“‘Oh, I didn’t mean dat,’ spoke de sarpint, es ef shock’d by not bein’ understud. ‘My p’int iz, iz yer ’low’d ter eat um all? Dat’s wat I want ter know. As ter yer laws an’ rites in de gardin, duz dey all sute yer?’

“Fer a minnit de ’oman jump’d same es if sumbudy struk her a blow. De col’ chils run down her bak, an’ she luk lik she wan ter run, but sumhow de eye uv de sarpint dun got a charm on her. Dar wuz a struggul, er reglur Bull Run battul, gwine on in her soul at dat momint.

“‘Wat yer ax me dat questun fur?’ Eve axed, gaspin’ w’ile she spoke. Den de debbul luk off. He tri ter be kam an’ ter speak lo an’ kine, but dar wuz a glar’ in hiz eyes. ‘I begs many parduns,’ he says, ’skuse me, I did not mean ter meddul wid yer privit buzniz. I’d bettur skuse mysef, I reckin, and try an’ git erlong.’

“‘No; doan go,’ Eve sed. ‘Yer havn’t hurt my feelin’s. Wat yer say jes’ put new thoughts in my min’ an’ kinder shuk me up at fust. But I doan min’ talkin’.’

“‘Ef dat be de kase,’ speaks up de debbul, quite brave-lek, ‘begs you skuse me ter ask agin ef de rules uv de gardin ’lows yer ter eat any uv dem appuls yer got in de gardin? I haz my reasuns fer axin’ dis.’

“Eve stud dar shivurrin’ lik she freezin’ an’ pale es de marbul toomstoan. But arter a gud wile she pint her han obur to er tree, on de hill on de rite, an’ she tel ’im, es ef she wuz mity ’fraid, dat dar wuz a tree obur dar uv de Nollidge an’ uv de Deestinxshun, an’ she say, ‘De Lord Gord He tel us we mus’ not eat dem appuls; dey pisun us, an’ de day we eat um we got to die.’

“Oh, my brudderin, worn’t times mity serus den? ’Twuz de hour wen de powurs uv darknis wuz gittin’ in an’ de foundashuns uv human hopes wuz givin’ way. Den it wuz he git up close ter Eve an’ wispur in her ear:--

“‘Did de Lord Gord tel yer dat? Doan tel nobody, but I wan’ ter tel yer dat it ain’t so. Doan yer b’liev it. Doan let ’im fool yer! He know dat’s de bes’ fruit in all de gardin,--de fruit uv de Nollidge an’ de Deestinxshun, an’ dat wen yer eats it yer will know es much es He do. Yer reckin He wants yer ter know es much es He do? Na-a-w; an’ dat’s why He say wat He do say. You go git um. Dey’s de choysis’ fruit in de gardin, an’ wen yer eats um yer will be equ’ul ter Gord.’

“Erlas, erlas! po’ deluded an’ foolish Eve! It wuz de momint uv her evurlastin’ downfall. Clouds uv darknis shrouds her min’ an’ de ebul sperrit leap inter her soul an’ locks de do’ behin’ him. Dat dedly day she bruk ’way frum de Gord dat made her, Eve did, an’ purtuk uv de fruit dat brought sin an’ ruin an’ hell inter de wurl’.

“Po’ foolish Eve! In dat momunt darknis fils her min’, evul leaps in ter er heart, an’ she pluck de appul, bruk de kumman uv Gord, and ate de fatul fruit wat brought death ter all our race.

“Artur er wile, Adum kum walkin’ up de gardin and Eve she runs out ter meet ’im. Wen he kum near she hol’ up er appul in her han’ and tell him it iz gud ter eat. Oh, blin’ and silly womun! First deceived herself, she turn roun’ and deceives Adum. Dat’s de way; we gits wrong, an’ den we pulls udder folks down wid us. We rarly goes down by oursefs.

“But whar wuz de rong? Whar, indeed? It wuz in Eve’s believin’ de debbul and not believin’ Gord. It wuz doin’ wat de debbul sed an’ not doin’ wat Gord sed. An’ yer kum here and ax me whar sin kum frum! Yer see now, doan’ sher? It kum out uv de pit uv hell whar it wuz hatched ’mong de ainjuls dat wuz flung out uv heav’n ’caus dey disurbeyd Gord. It kum from dat land whar de name uv our Gord is hated. It wuz brought by dat ole sarpint, de fathur uv lies, and he brung it dat he mite fool de woman, an’ in dat way sot up on de urth de wurks uv de debbul. Sin iz de black chile uv de pit, it is. It kum frum de ole sarpint at fust, but it’s here now, rite in po’ Jasper’s hart and in your hart; wharevur dar iz a man or a woman in dis dark wurl’ in tears dar iz sin,--sin dat insults Gord, tars down His law, and brings woes ter evrybody.

“An’ you, stung by de sarpint, wid Gord’s rath on yer and yer feet in de paf uv deth, axin’ whar sin kum frum? Yer bettur fly de rath uv de judgmint day.

“But dis iz ernuff. I jes’ tuk time ter tell whar sin kum frum. But my tong carnt refuse ter stop ter tel yer dat de blud uv de Lam’ slain frum de foundashun uv de wurl’ is grettur dan sin and mitier dan hell. It kin wash erway our sins, mek us whitur dan de drivin snow, dress us in redemshun robes, bring us wid shouts and allerluejurs bak ter dat fellership wid our Fathur, dat kin nevur be brokin long ez ’ternity rolls.”

This outbreak of fiery eloquence was not the event of the afternoon, but simply an incident. It came towards the end of the service, and its delivery took not much more time than is required to read this record of it. His language was perhaps never more broken; but what he said flamed with terrific light. While there were touches of humour in his description of the scene in the Garden, his message gathered a seriousness and solemnity which became simply overpowering. No words can describe the crushing and alarming effect which his weird story of the entrance of sin into the world had upon his audience. Men sobbed and fell to the floor in abject shame, and frightened cries for mercy rang wild through the church. Possibly never a sweeter gospel note sounded than that closing reference which he made to the cleansing power of the blood shed from the foundation of the world.

There were many white persons present, and they went away filled with a sense of the greatness and power of the Gospel.

VI

JASPER SET FREE

Jasper came to the verge of his greatness after he had passed the half century line. Freedom had come and to him brought nothing except the opportunity to carve out his own fortune. His ministry had been migratory, restricted and chiefly of ungathered fruit. He found himself in Richmond without money and without a home. By daily toil he was picking up his bread. He was dead set on doing something in the way he wanted to do it. He was of the constructive sort, and never had done well when building on another man’s foundation.

His ambition was to build a church. Down on the James River, where the big furnaces were run, there was a little island, and on the island a little house, and scattered along the canal and river were many of the newly liberated and uncared for people of his race.

He began to hold religious services on the island,--said by some to have been held in a private house, and by others in a deserted stable, which was fitted up to accommodate the increasing crowds. Things went well with him. The joy of building flamed his soul, and beneath the tide of the river he baptized many converts. Happy days they were! The people were wild with enthusiasm, and the shouts of his congregation mingled with the noise of the James River Falls. It was to Jasper as the gate of heaven, and he walked as the King’s ambassador among his admiring flock.

But it could not be that way long. There was not room enough to contain the people, and yet the church was poverty itself, and what could they do? Happily they found a deserted building beyond the canal and accessible to the growing company of his lovers in the city. There things went with a snap and a roar. From every quarter the people came to hear this African Boanerges. The crowds and songs and riotous shouts of his young church filled the neighbourhood. Constant processions, with Jasper at the head, visited the river or canal, to give baptism to the multiplying converts.

Meanwhile, however, the northern part of the city was fast becoming the Africa of Richmond. Into its meaner outskirts at first the tide began to roll, but in a little while the white people began to retreat, street after street, until a vast area was given up to the coloured people. Jasper’s people, also, as they prospered, began to settle in this new Africa, and Jasper found once more that he was simply dwelling in tents, when the time was coming for the building of the temple.

Jasper was on the outlook for a new location. Finally he hit upon an old brick church building, at the corner of Duval and St. John Streets. The Presbyterians, who had started this mission years before, had despaired of success under the changed conditions and they offered the house for sale, the price being $2,025. The sense of growth and progress fairly maddened this unique and fascinating preacher with enthusiasm. He had found a home for his people at last, and yet, in point of fact, he had not. The house was a magnificent gain on their old quarters, and yet every Sunday afternoon found most of his crowd on the outside. Quite soon his people had to enlarge and remodel the house, and this they did at a cost of $6,000. By that time the membership was well on towards 2,000. There they dwelt for a number of years until the church became the centre of the religious life in that part of the town. “John Jasper,” as he was universally called, had easily become the most attractive and popular minister of his race in the city. By this time he was over sixty years of age, and it would have taken much to have quenched the yet unwasted buoyancy and vitality of his ministry. Necessity demanded another building, and in the later prime of his kingly manhood, and very largely by his personal forcefulness and intrepid leadership, he led a movement for a house of worship that would be respectable in almost any part of Richmond. What was more to his purpose, it was very capacious, wisely adapted to the wants of his people and a fitting monument to his constructive resource and enthusiasm. It is said that he, out of his own slender resources, gave $3,000 to the building fund, and this was probably in addition to great sums of money given him by white people who went to hear him preach and who delighted to honour and cheer the old man. I suppose that thousands of dollars were given him from no motive save that of kindness towards him, and the donours would just as soon have given the money directly to him and for his own use. They helped to build the church simply to please the old man whose eloquence and honesty had won their hearts. His love for his church amounted to devotion. He had seen it grow from the most insignificant beginning, had watched the tottering steps of its childhood, and with pride natural and affectionate had gloried in its prosperity.