Part 4

But be it said to the old man’s honour that he was too great to be conceited. He had no sense of boastfulness or self-glorification about the church. He had the frankness to tell the truth about things when it was necessary, but he had too much manly modesty to claim distinction for the part he had borne in the building up of the church. Indeed, he was strangely silent about his relations with the church, and his dominant feeling was one of affectionate solicitude for the future of the church rather than of self-satisfaction on account of its history.

There was a strain of severity in Jasper. He had some of the temper of the reformer. He was quick,--often too quick--in condemning those who criticised him. The fact is, he was so unfeignedly honest that he could not be patient towards those whose sincerity or honesty he doubted. For those who plotted against the church or gave trouble in other ways he had little charity. Those that would not work in harness, and help to move things along, he was quite willing to show to the church door. For his part, he could not love those very warmly who did not love the “Sixth Mount Zion.”

This may be the right place to say a word or two as to Jasper’s enemies. He was a man of war, and it may be that his prejudices sometimes got in the saddle. But not very often. Possibly, his most striking characteristic was his bottom sense of justice. He told the truth by instinct, and it never occurred to him to take an undue advantage. If, however, a man wronged him, he was simply terrible in bringing the fellow to book. There was a case, in which it is better not to mention names, in which an insidious and grievous accusation was brought against this sturdy old friend of the faith. The charge sought to fasten falsehood upon Jasper. That was enough for him,--it amounted to a declaration of war, and at once he entered upon the conflict. Never did he cease the strife until the charge was unsaid. Nothing, in short, could terrify him.

It must not be inferred that those who assailed him with questions and arguments were put into the category of personal enemies. Controversy was exactly to his taste. All he asked of the other man was to state his proposition, and he was ready for the contest. Not that he went into it pell-mell. By no means; he took time for preparation, and when he spoke it was hard to answer him. This, of course, applies when the questions were theological and Scriptural, and not scientific. His knowledge of the Scriptures was remarkable, and his spiritual insight into the doctrines of the Bible was extraordinary. When he preached, he supported every point with Scriptural quotations, invariably giving the chapter and verse, and often adding, “Ef yer don’ find it jes’ ezackly ez I tells yer, yer kin meet me on de street nex’ week an’ say ter me: ‘John Jasper, you ar er lier,’ an’ I won’ say er wurd.”

What gave to Jasper an exalted and impressive presence was his insistent claim that he was a God-sent man. This he asserted in almost every sermon, and with such evident conviction that he forced other people to believe it. Even those who differed with him were constrained to own his sincerity and Godliness. It was impossible to be with him much without being impressed that he was anointed of God for his work. It was in this that his people gloried. Their faith in him was preëminent,--far above every question--and he was also full of inspiration. You may talk with his disciples now, wherever you meet them, and they are quick to tell you that “Brer Jasper was certinly aninted uv God,” and even the more intelligent of the people ascribed his greatness to the fact that he was under the power of the Holy Ghost. Many wicked people heard him preach, and some of them still went their wicked way, but they felt that the power of God was with Jasper, and they were always ready to say so. In many points, John Jasper was strikingly like John the Baptist,--a just man and holy, and the people revered him in a way I never met with in any other man.

VII

THE PICTURE-MAKER

In the circle of Jasper’s gifts his imagination was preëminent. It was the mammoth lamp in the tower of his being. A matchless painter was he. He could flash out a scene, colouring every feature, defining every incident and unveiling every detail. Time played no part in the performance,--it was done before you knew it. Language itself was of second moment. His vocabulary was poverty itself, his grammar a riot of errors, his pronunciation a dialectic wreck, his gestures wild and unmeaning, his grunts and heavings terrible to hear. At times he hardly talked but simply emitted; his pictures were simply himself in flame. His entire frame seemed to glow with living light, and almost wordlessly he wrought his miracles. But do not misunderstand. Some insisted on saying that education would have stripped John of his genius by subduing the riot of his power and chastening the fierceness of his imagination. I think not, for John in a good sense was educated. He was a reverential and laborious student for half-a-century. He worked on his sermons with a marked assiduity and acquired the skill and mastership of faithful struggle. Even his imagination had to work, and its products were the fruit of toil. There was no mark of the abnormal or disproportionate in his sky, but all the stars were big and bright. He was well ballasted in his mental make-up, and in his most radiant pictures there was an ethical regard for facts, and an instinctive respect for the truth. Moreover, his ministrations fairly covered the theological field, were strongly doctrinal, and he grappled with honest vigour the deepest principles of the Gospel. He was also intensely practical, scourging sin, lashing neglect, and with lofty authority demanding high and faithful living.

Think not of Jasper merely as a pictorial preacher. There were wrought into his pictures great principles and rich lessons. But now and then he would present a sermon which was largely a series of pictures from beginning to end. His imagination would be on duty all the time and yet never flag. I cannot forget his sermon on Joseph and his Brethren. It was a stirring presentation of the varied scenes in that memorable piece of history. He opened on the favouritism of Jacob, and was exceedingly strong in condemning partiality, as unhappily expressed in the coat of many colours. That brief part was a sermon itself for parents. From that he passed quickly to the envy of his brothers, jealousy was a demon creeping in among them, inflicting poisonous stings, and spreading his malignant power, until murder rankled in every heart. Then came Joseph, innocent and ignorant of offending, to fall a victim to their conspiracy, with the casting of him into the pit, the selling of him to the travelling tradesmen, the showing to Jacob of the blood-stained coat, with scene after scene until the happy meeting at last between Jacob and his long lost son.

One almost lived a lifetime under the spell of that sermon. It was eloquent, pathetic, terrific in its denunciations, rich in homely piety, and with strains of sweetness that was as balm to sorrowing souls. The effects were as varied as human thoughts and sentiments. The audience went through all moods. Now they were bent down as if crushed with burdens; now they were laughing in tumults at the surprises and charms of heavenly truth; anon they were sobbing as if all hearts were broken, and in a moment hundreds were on their feet shaking hands, shouting, and giving forth snatches of jubilant song. This all seems extravagant, without sobriety entirely, but those that were there, perhaps without an exception, felt that it was the veritable house of God and the gate of heaven.

At other times, Jasper’s sermons were sober and deliberate, sometimes even dull; but rarely did the end come without a burst of eloquence or an attractive, entertaining picture. But, remember, that his pictures were never foreign to his theme. They were not lugged in to fill up. They had in them the might of destiny and fitted their places, and fitted them well. Often they came unheralded, but they were evidently born for their part. On one occasion his sermon was on Enoch. It started out at a plodding gait and seemed for a time doomed to dullness, for Jasper could be dull sometimes. At one time he brought a smile to the faces of the audience, in speaking of Enoch’s age, by the remark: “Dem ole folks back dar cud beat de presunt ginerashun livin’ all ter pieces.”

As he approached the end of his sermon, his face lighted up and took on a new grace and passion, and he went out with Enoch on his last walk. That walk bore him away to the border of things visible; earthly scenes were lost to view; light from the higher hills gilded the plains. Enoch caught sight of the face of God, heard the music and the shouting of a great host, and saw the Lamb of God seated on the throne. The scene was too fair to lose, and Enoch’s walk quickened into a run which landed him in his father’s house. It was a quick, short story, told in soft and mellow tones, and lifted the audience up so far that the people shouted and sang as if they were themselves entering the gates of heaven.

One of his more elaborate descriptions, far too rich to be reproduced, celebrated the ascension of Elijah. There was the oppressive unworldliness of the old prophet, his efforts to shake off Elisha, and Elisha’s wise persistence in clamouring for a blessing from his spiritual father. But it was when the old prophet began to ascend that Jasper, standing off like one apart from the scene, described it so thrillingly that everything was as plain as open day. To the people, the prophet was actually and visibly going away. They saw him quit the earth, saw him rise above the mountain tops, sweeping grandly over the vast fields of space, and finally saw him as he passed the moon and stars. Then something happened. In the fraction of a second Jasper was transmuted into Elijah and was actually in the chariot and singing with extraordinary power the old chorus: “Going up to heaven in a chariot of fire.” The scene was overmastering! For a time I thought that Jasper was the real Elijah, and my distinct feeling was that the song which he sang could be heard around the world. Of course, it was not so; but there was something in the experience of the moment that has abided with me ever since.

At a funeral one Sunday I saw Jasper attempt a dialogue with death, himself speaking for both. The line of thought brought him face to face with death and the grave. The scene was solemnized by a dead body in a coffin. He put his hands over his mouth and stooped down and addressed death. Oh, death--death, speak to me. Where is thy sting? And then with the effect of a clairvoyant he made reply: “Once my sting was keen and bitter, but now it is gone. Christ Jesus has plucked it out, and I have no more power to hurt His children. I am only the gatekeeper to open the gateway to let His children pass.” In closing this chapter an incident will largely justify my seemingly extraordinary statements as to the platform power of this unschooled negro preacher in Virginia.

In company with a friend I went very often Sunday afternoons to hear Jasper and the fact was bruited about quite extensively, and somewhat to the chagrin of some of my church-members. Two of them, a professor in Richmond College and a lawyer well-known in the city, took me to task about it. They told me in somewhat decided tones that my action was advertising a man to his injury, and other things of a similar sort. I cared but little for their criticism, but told them that if they would go to hear him when he was at his best, and if afterwards they felt about him as they then felt, I would consider their complaints. They went the next Sunday. The house was overflowing, and Jasper walked the mountain tops that day. His theme was “The raising of Lazarus” and by steps majestic he took us along until he began to describe the act of raising Lazarus from the dead. It happened that the good professor was accompanied by his son, a sprightly lad of about ten, who was sitting between his father and myself. Suddenly the boy, evidently agitated, turned to me and begged that we go home at once. I sought to soothe him, but all in vain, for as he proceeded the boy urgently renewed his request to go home. His father observed his disquietude and putting an arm around him restored him to calmness. After the service ended and we had reached the street, I said to him: “Look here, boy, what put you into such a fidget to quit the church before the end of the service?” “Oh, doctor, I thought he had a dead man under the pulpit and was going to take him out,” he said. My lawyer brother heard the sermon and with profound feeling said, “Hear that, and let me say to you that in a lifetime I have heard nothing like it, and you ought to hear that man whenever you can.”

I heard no later criticisms from any man concerning my conduct in evincing such cordial interest in this eloquent son of Fluvanna.

It was only necessary to persuade Jasper’s critics to hear him, to remove all question as to his genuine character and effective spiritual ministry.

VIII

JASPER’S STAR WITNESS

The domestic history of this rare and gifted man was not without its tragical incidents. One of the worst features of slavery, as an institution in the South, was the inevitable legislation which it necessitated, and under which many grievous wrongs were perpetrated. The right of the slave owner to the person of the slave carried with it the authority to separate man and wife at the dictate of self-interest, and that was often done, though it ought to be said that thousands of kind-hearted men and women did their utmost to mitigate the wrongs which such legislation legalized. In the sale of the negroes regard was often had for the marriage relation, and it was arranged so that the man and wife might not be torn asunder. But it was not always this way. Too often the sanctity of marriage and the laws of God concerning it were sacrificed to the greed of the slaveholder.

If the tradition of Mr. Jasper’s first marriage is to be accepted as history, then he was the victim of the cruel laws under which the institution of slavery was governed. In the changes which came to him in the breaking up of the family to which he belonged his lot was cast for a while in the city of Williamsburg. The story is that he became enamoured of a maiden bearing the name of Elvy Weaden, and he was successful in his suit. It chanced, however, that on the very day set for his marriage, he was required to go to Richmond to live. The marriage was duly solemnized and he was compelled to leave his bride abruptly, but was buoyed with the hope that fairer days would come when their lot would be cast together. The fleeting days quenched the hope and chilled the ardour of the bride, and in course of time the impatient woman notified Jasper that unless he would come to see her and they could live together, she would account herself free to seek another husband. He was not a man to brook mistreatment, and he made short work of the matter. He wrote her that he saw no hope of returning to Williamsburg, and that she must go ahead and work out her own fate. Naturally enough, the difficulties under which the married life had to be maintained served to weaken seriously the marital tie and to imperil the virtue of the slaves. But this remark ought not to be made without recalling the fact that there were thousands and tens of thousands of happy and well-governed families among the slaves of the South.

Jasper felt seriously the blight of this untimely marriage and he seems to have remained unmarried until after he united with the church and became a preacher. In time, his thoughts turned again to marriage. He was then a member of the First African Baptist Church of Richmond. He took the letter which his wife had written him some time before and presented it to the church and asked what was his duty under the circumstances. It was a complex and vexing question, but his brethren, after soberly weighing the matter, passed a resolution expressing the conviction that it would be entirely proper for him to marry again. Accordingly, about five years after his conversion, he married a woman bearing the unusual name of Candus Jordan. According to all reports, this marriage was far more fruitful in children than in the matter of connubial peace and bliss for the high-strung and ambitious Jasper. It seems that the case must have had some revolting features, as in due time Jasper secured a divorce and was fully justified by his brethren and friends in taking this action. Evidently this separation from his wife, which was purely voluntary, in no way weakened him in the confidence and good-will of the people.

Years after his divorce, Jasper married Mrs. Mary Anne Cole. There were no children by this marriage, but his wife had a daughter by her former marriage who took the name of Jasper, and was adopted in fact and in heart as the daughter of this now eminent and beloved minister. This wife died in 1874, and Jasper married once more. His widow survived him and still lives, a worthy and honoured woman whose highest earthly joy is the recollection of having been the wife of Elder John Jasper, and also the solace and cheer of his old age. This is a checkered story of a matrimonial career, but justice loudly demands the statement that through it all John Jasper walked the lofty path of virtue and honour. It was impossible, however, for a man like Jasper to escape the arrows of the archer. Jealousy, envy, and slander were often busy with his name, and if foul charges could have befouled him none could have been fouler than he. But his daily life was a clean and unanswerable story. Reproaches would not stick to him, and the deadliest darts fell harmless at his feet. His noble seriousness, his absorption in the study of the Bible, his enthusiasm in the ministry, and, most of all, his quiet walk with God, saved him from the grosser temptations of life.

Perhaps the finest incident in all the story of his life was the perfect faith of the people in Jasper. This was true everywhere that he was known, but it was most powerfully true among those who stood nearest to him and knew him best. Jasper, to them, was the incarnation of goodness. They felt his goodness, revelled in it, and lived on it. Their best earthly inspirations sprang out of the fair and incorruptible character of their pastor. If his enemies sought to undermine and defame him, they rallied around him and fought his battles. Little cared he for the ill things said about him personally. Conscious of his rectitude, and, embosomed in the love of his great church, he walked serenely and triumphantly in the way of the Lord. He believed in the sanctity of his home, and he hallowed it by the purity, honesty, and charity of his brethren.

Anxious to get some living testimony in regard to the personal character of Jasper, I determined to get in contact with a few persons who stood very close to him, and that, for many years. In what follows is found the testimony of a truly excellent woman, to whom I was directed, with the assurance that what she said might be taken as thoroughly trustworthy. She gave her name as Virginia Adams, and, judging from her appearance and manner, one would probably write her down as not far from threescore and ten. She was for many years a member of his church. The following story from her lips is not connected, but it is simply the unmethodical testimony of a sensible woman, bearing about it the marks of sincerity, intelligence, and reverential affection.

“Brer’ Jasper was as straightfor’d a man es you cud see, and yer cud rely ’pon ev’ry word he told yer. He made it so plain dat watuver he tol’ yer in his sermon yer cud read it right thar in yer heart, jes’ like he had planted and stamped it in yer. I can’t read myse’f, but I kno’ well when anybody mek any mistake ’bout de passages which Brer Jasper used to preach ’bout. I’ve got ’em jes’ de same es if I had ’em printed on my mem’ry. His mi’ty sermon on Elijer is in me jes’ es he preached it. I kin see Elijer es Elisha is runnin’ arter him,--kin see de cheryot es it kum down, see Brer Jasper es he wuz pintin’ ter de cheryot es it riz in its grand flight up de skies,--see Elijer es he flung his mantul out es he went up, and I tell yer when Brer Jasper began ter sing ’bout goin’ up ter heaven in a cheryot uv fire I cud see everything jes’ es bright es day, and de people riz such a shout dat I thought all de wurl’ wuz shoutin’. Yes, Brer Jasper wuz de kindes’ man I reckon on de urth. Yer cudn’t finish tellin’ him ’bout folks dat wuz in trouble and want, befo’ he’d be gittin’ out his money. He didn’t look lik he keer much ’bout money,--he warn’t no money-seeker, and yit he look lik he allus hev money, and he wuz allus de fust ter give. Jes’ tell him wat wuz needed, and he begun fer to scratch in his pocket.

“Brer Jasper kep’ things lively. People wuz talkin’ all de time ’bout his sermons, and yer cud hear their argiments while yer wuz gwine ’long de streets. Often his members an’ udder folks too wud git tangled up ’bout his doctrines and dey wud git up texs an’ subjiks an’ git him ter preach ’bout ’em. Ef any uv his brutherin had trubbul wid passiges uv de scripshur and went ter him ’bout ’em, you’d sure hear frum him nex Sunday. He luv ter splain things fer his brutherin.

“It wuz Bruther Woodson, de sexton uv de church, and anudder man dat got Brer Jasper in ter dat gret ’citemint ’bout de sun. Dey got inter a spute es to wheddur de sun went ’roun’ de wurl’ ur not, and dey took it ter our pastor, and really I thought I nevur wud hear de end of dat thing. Folks got arter Brer Jasper in de papurs and everywhar; but I tell yer dey nevur skeered him. He wuz es brave es a lion, an’ I don’ kno’ how often he preached dat sermon. It look lik all de people in de wurl’ want to kum.

“No, Brer Jasper wuz no money-grabbur. When de church wuz weak and cudn’t raze much money, he nevur sot no salary. Yer cudn’t git him ter do it. He tell ’em not ter trubble ’emselves, but jes’ giv him wat dey chuze ter put in de baskit and he nevur made no kumplaint. Wen de church got richer dey crowd ’im hard ter kno’ how much he wantid, and he at las’ tell ’em dat he wud take $62.50 a month, and dat he didn’t want no more dan dat. Wen de gret crowds got ter kummin’ and de white folks too, and de money po’ed in so fas’ de brutherin farly quarl’d wid him ter git his sal’ry raz’d, but he say No! I git nuff now, and I want no more. I’m not here to gouge my people out of es much money es I kin. He say he got nuff money to pay his taxes and buy wat he needed, and if dey got more dan dey wantid let ’em take it and help de Lord’s pore. Sometimes we used ter ’poun’’ de ole man, kerryin’ ’im all kinds uv good things ter eat. He didn’t lik it at all, but tuk de things and sont ’em ’roun’ ter de pore people.

“Brer Jasper wuz nun uv yer parshul preachers. His church wuz his family, and he had no favrites. He did not bow down ter de high nor hol’ ’imsef ’bove de low. Enny uv his people cud kum ter him ’bout all dere struggles and sorrers. He hated erroneyus doctrines. His faith in de Bibul wuz powerful, and he luved it ’bove everything. He had awful dreds ’bout wat mite kum ter de church wen he wuz gone. He sometimes said in a mity solem way, ‘Wen I am daid and gone, yer will look out ter whar my ashes lay and wish I wuz back here ter ’part ter yer de pure wurd uv Gord agin. I got a fear dat dose dat kum arter me will try ter pull down wat I built up. I pray Gord, my children will stand by de ship uv Zion wen I’s gone.’