The Camden chronicle. (Camden, Tenn.) 1890-current, 1902-06-20


Ing. and although / have been
preacher Of the gospel for twenty
years. and although I'm caDtln OF the
nat boat that lies at your landing, I'm
not proud, my brethering ah.
am not gwlne to tell edzactly whar
my text may be found; suffice Il to
say It IS in the leds OF the Bible, and
you'll find Il somewhere between the
first chapter OF the book OF Genera
lions and the last chapter of the book
Of Revolutions and ef you viii 90 and
search the scriptures, you'll not only
find my tex thar but a great many
other texes as will do you good to
read and my tex. when you shall find
It to read thus, an:
"And he played on a harp Of a thou
sand strlngs-sperits Of Jest men made
perfeck"
My tex my brethering, leads me to
speak OF sperits. Now thar's a great
many kinds of sperits in the world
in the fuss place. thar's the sperits
some folks call ghosts, and thars the
sperits Of turpentine, and thar's the
sperts as some folks call liquor, and
I've got as good an artikel Of them
kind Of sperlts on my fiat boat as ever
was foch down the Mississippi river;
but thar's a great many kinds OF
sperits, for the tex says: "He played
on harp Of thousand strings, sper-
Its OF Jest men made perfeck" And
thars a great many kinds Of fire in the
world. In the fuss place thar's the
common sort of fire, and then there's
foxare, and campfire, fire before you
are ready and fire and fall back and
many other kinds Of fire, for the tex
says, He played on a harp Of a thou
sand strings, sperlts Of jest men made
perfeck."
But I'll tell you of the kind of fire
as is spoken of in the Bible, my breth-
ering, is He'll Fire! and that's the kind
of fire as a great many of you'll come
to eff you don't do better nor what
you have been doin'-for He played
on harp of a Thousand strings, sper.
its Of just men made perfeck." And
that's the kind of fire you can't dodge,
my brethering, ali, for it's the fire
that won't be quenched. You may fly
to the mountains of Hapsidan, where
the woodbine twineth and the lion
roareth, and the whangdoodle mourn
eth for its first born but you can't hide
from this unquenchable fire, for it is
the fire of hell and damnation, ali!
And he played on a harp of thou
sand strings-sperits of jest men made
| perfeck."
Now, as there are many kinds OF
sperits and many kinds Of fire, ali!
in the world, ahl, jest so there are
many kinds of Christians, ali. In the
fuss place we have the Piscopalians
and they are high-sailin', high-roost
in, hifalutin set, ali and they may be
likened unto a turkey buzzard that
flies up into the air, ali! and he goes
up, and up, and up, TIL he looks nc
bigger than your 1nger nail, and tn,
fust thing you know, he comes down
and down, and down, end goes to film
hisself on the carkiss of a dead boss
by the side of the road, ali! and HE
played on harp of a thousand strings
sperlts of jest men made perfeck."
And thar is the Presbyterians my
brethering, with their long frock coat:
and high shirt collars and dismal
swamp faces, but they never cleared
no new ground nor burnt no bresh MOI
deadened no timber, nor killed no bars
They always waits for us hard shells
to do that and settle up the wilderness!
and then they will slip in and go tt
plantin' and put on heavenly airs anC
claim to be the only people that arr
elected and shore Of eternal salvation
and they play on harp Of thou
sand strings-sperits of jest men made
perfeck.
And then, my brethering, thar's tn,
Baptists, al! And they have beer
likened to 'possum on a simmer
tree, and the thunders may roll anC
the. earth may quake, and the lioni
roar and the whangdoodIe mourn, BIZ
the possum clings thar still, ali! Ant
you may shake one foot loose and til,
others thar and you may shake al
feel loose, and he laps his tail arount
the limb, and he clings and he cling
urever, ali! for Gle played on a-harl
Of a thousand strings, sperits of jes
men made perfeck Bill Arp, in At
lanta Constitution.