The Indianapolis journal., 1885-10-18

Written for the indianapolis Journal by W. III. Smith.
In the old cemetery at Indianapolis stands a
plain stone slab, bearing the marks of age and
neglect By patient effort the following inscrip-
ton may be deciphered:
| Sacred
| To the Memory of
The REV. JOHN STRANGE,
| Who departed This Life
| the
| I'd Day of December 1882,
II the Forty fourth Year of His Age,
| and the Twenty second Year
| of His
| Itinerant Ministry.
Iney that be wise shall shine and they that turn
many to righteousness the stars forever and
Daniel, xii, 3.
Beneath that unpretentous slab rests the dust
of one of the greatest and most selfsacrifcng
soldiers of the cross who have ever labored in
Indiana. He was one of those pioneers who,
| fired by zeal for the cause of the Master.
endured hardships as good SOL
der. John Strange was Virginian
by birth. He was born in 17S9 just as the
country was beginning to recuperate after the
long struggle for independence. While but a
lad his fathers family emgrated to the then far
West and settled in Ohio. His father was
Jealous minister. who delighted to traverse the
/ AA~N~S -
Christ to the savages. He left home on one
such expedition and mover returned. How he
lost his life was never known. He may have
been slain by wild beasts, or by the Indians. or
he may have died of starvation-none ever knew.
| His son grew up to manhood and as he grew in
| years he also grew in the fear and in the knowl-
edge of God. At the age of twenty-five he be-
came an itinerant minister. His fame
orator of wonderful eloquence and power soon
spread even to the Atlantic coast For thirteen
years he performed pastoral work in Ohio and
then came to Indiana, where he remained until
death released him in 1882, in the fullness of his
fame, but still mparatively young in years.
He was not college bred, but was possessed of
an education higher, nobler. more soul inspiring
than that obtained by the study of books.
He thoroughly knew nature and men. He loved
the deep and unbroken forests, the broad and
silent prairies, the purng brooks and rushing
rivers. From these he drew his inspirations. In
his day the southern half of Indiana was but
| little better than unbroken forest, and the
majesty of Gods handiwork, as displayed by
the majestic trees lifting high their heads,
| and the deep solitude as he wended his way
| from one appointment to another inspired his
soul, and gave to his 'eloquence something
of the majesty of the scenes of nature
| with which he was so familiar In
alluding to his education, he once said:
! II educated in Brush College, more
ancient though less pretentous than Yale, or
Harvard. or Princeton, There graduated, and
| l love her memory still. Her academic groves
are the boundless forests and prairies of the
western wilds; her Pierian springs are the gush-
| ing fountains from rocks and mountain fastness-
es; her Arcadian groves and Orphic songs are the
wild woods and the birds of every color and
| every song, relieved now and then with the bass
hootings of the night owl and the wierd treble of
the whip-poor- twill; her curriculum is the philoso-
ply of nature and the mysteries of redemption;
her library is the word of God, the Discipline and
hymn book, supplemented with trees, and brooks
and stones. all of which are full of wisdom. and
| sermons, and speeches; and her parchments of
| literary honors are the horse and saddle-hagsn
This was the school from which he graduated
and the play of his eloquence as varied as
the play of the winds through the forest he loved
| so dearly. Sometimes it was gentle as the
| evening breeze while singing its song through
the tree tops; at other times it was as mournf,l
| as the signing of the wind before the coming
of the storm, and then again 1t was as fierce and
wild as the tornado ITSELF swapping everything
move multitudes at his will. No other man had
| such perfect mastery his congregation.
What Patrick Henry and Clay were in the po-
| litcal field. and Choate before a jury John
Strange was before congregation, and more
too. for he was inspired by the Holy Ghost Ed
ucated amid the grand scenes OF nature. he loved
to take the grand and sublime scenes of the Bible
! for his texts. They harmonzed with his nature
ard III their description they called forth his
| Hottest powers. The story and character of
Elijah was one of his favorite themes and AS he
| would hurl his words of condemnation at the
| Ahabs and Jezebels of the day strong men
would shrink ard cover before him as if the
wrath of an offended Deity was about to crush
| them.
His first appearance in Indiana was in 1872
when the southeastern part of the State was
| embraced in the bounds of his circuits 1t
| was during the war with Great Britain The
| Indians were hostile, and travelling through the
| forests was exceedingly dangerous, but Mr.
| Strange never missed his appointments, but
when the time came it found him there with his
| rife upon his shoulder. He believed he was
| doing the work of the living Go1. and upon
| Him he trusted in all things. His implicit faith
in Gods care was something wonderful and
many incidents might be related of it, To the
pioneer preacher good horse was of
often three or four hundred miles
around, without roads, but intersected
| by numbers of bridgeless streams. and a
| good horse was q necessity. At one time Mr.
| Durango ndu d very HHe SdUQie-nOrSe, nut AT one
of his appointments it died suddenly. His friends
rendered their sompathy, as the loss could not be
easily replaced, when Mr. Strange replied
"Why should you be disturbed about this mat
ter, brethrenY am not | know that my Father
| owns the cattle upon thousand hills, and in
His own good time and way He will give me a
horse dozen of them, if need be, to prose-
cute His work. In the meantime, He has given
| me the power of speedy and easy locomotion
| which shall use without interruption to nv
| work" With that he threw his saddlebags over
his shoulder. and, with his rife in his hand
started out on his lonely walk of three hundred
miles AT another time, just as he had mounted
his horse to start on three wees
trip around his circuit his wife came
to the door and told him that she had not
handful of -four in the house nor IA cent of
money. well, my dear" he sad Il have no
money either, but must go and preach You