PRE-02-Chapter Two
Chapter Two
Sudden Change—Scene in a Ball—Room-Mental Conflict—Battle with the Devil—His Baptism—Thirst for Knowledge—Marriage—Decides To Be A Preacher. But a nature like his was not to run wild and to waste; a nobler career than that of ministering to the pleasures of the thoughtless and mirth-loving was soon to open before him; instead of being the leader in every scene of gayety and folly, he was soon to enter upon a life of lofty purpose and toil, and to turn the feet of thousands into the way of righteousness and peace. This great change in the current of his thoughts and life was sudden, and had a strange beginning. One night he was playing the violin for a large company of dancers, and in that most unlikely of all places for serious thought, there came into his mind the dying advice of his father, in the impressive words of the prophet: "Prepare to meet thy God." They came unbidden; they forced themselves upon him with a power that he could not resist; they seemed to him not only a voice from the grave but a message from heaven. Still the dance went on; but the gayer the crowd became, the sadder grew the heart of the player, whose mirthful strains were at such variance with the solemn thoughts with which his mind was occupied. A young lady observing the sadness of his look, and the abstraction of his manner, approached him and said: ’’Knowly, what is the matter?" He told without reserve the state of his mind; and it was with strange feelings that she resumed her place through the set, to music which she knew mocked the feelings of the sad-hearted player. The dance ceased; another set was formed, and all were waiting for the music to begin. To the astonishment of all, Shaw, in response to the call to "strike up," said he could not play anymore. A dozen voices called on him to begin, when he gravely walked out into the middle of the floor and told all that had been passing through his mind; told of his father’s dying words, neglected till then, and expressed his determination never to play for another dance. He expressed regret for his past course of life; that it was not such as it should have been; that it might do if this life were all; but in view of the life to come, he must pursue another course. He then asked the company, about forty in all, to promise that they would throw no hindrance in the way of his attempt to lead a new life. His sadness, manliness, and earnestness reached their hearts. They gave the promise he asked; and to their honor be it said, they not only kept it, but some of them even gave him help and encouragement to keep the resolve which under such strange surroundings he had made. This proved to be no passing fancy; it was the turning point in his life; and to the life which he had been leading he never from that hour longingly looked back.
It must be remembered that this was the act of a somewhat rough and uneducated country boy, but only the nobler and more remarkable on that account. It displayed a moral courage, heroic as well as rare, and showed the awakening of a great soul to the solemn duties and responsibilities of life. In a mood far different from his usual one on leaving such scenes of festivity, he reached his home that night, and found his mother sitting up for him. But his manner was greatly changed; instead of a lively description of the great dancing party, and imitations of the various characters there, which his talent for mimicry often led him to indulge in, he was silent and thoughtful. He asked for a bowl of bread and milk, and when he had eaten asked for a blanket, and wrapped in this he passed the night on the floor. For several days he ate nothing but a little bread and milk, and spent the nights on the floor, wrapped in his blanket. During this time he seldom closed his eyes, and was evidently passing through a severe mental conflict. To his mother’s frequent entreaties to tell her his trouble, he made reply that he was having a battle with the devil. All the difficulties of the course he had entered upon came vividly before him; the possibility of the family suffering for lack of the help his violin had enabled him to afford them; the difficulty of providing for them by manual labor; the power of appetite to which he had yielded; the associations which he had formed which must be broken, made those sleepless nights seem long and terrible. Any thought of yielding he regarded as the whispering of the devil; he struggled on and was victorious. He now began to attend the services at the Flat Rock Church with a feeling and purpose far different from that which had taken him there before; the clear scriptural views presented were like light from heaven to one who had long walked in darkness; and after a sermon from Gabriel McDuffie, and an exhortation by Elder George Campbell, he publicly confessed his faith in Jesus Christ, and was immersed by George Thomas, the elder of the church, on the 13th of September, 1852.
What a treasure now would be a full report of the doings of that bright autumn day; the discourse of "Uncle Gabriel," as the preacher was affectionately called; the exhortation of George Campbell, a Boanerges in zeal, and rising, as many still remember, when calling sinners to repentance, to the highest degree of tender and pathetic entreaty; the company gathered on the banks of the stream; the words of prayer at the administration of the solemn rite; the sweet song at the close, and the serene joy of the young convert, in the assurance that he was Christ’s, and that Christ was his. All this must be left to the imagination. But one thing is certain: that there would have been even a deeper feeling and an intenser joy could the godly men who took part in the doings of that day have foreseen the multitudes the young convert should bring to the Master’s feet. As it was, to young Shaw it was a day never to be forgotten. From that hour, life had to him a new meaning; it was no longer to be a mere struggle for the bread that perishes, but an endeavor for a better life beyond the present-a race in which an immortal crown might be won.
Many predicted that he would soon be as careless and jolly as ever; and when they observed the attention paid him by Uncle Gabriel McDuffie, under whose ministry he had been converted, and who strove to help and encourage him all in his power, they said, with a sneering smile: "The old man is wasting his time on Shaw; he’ll soon be back in the ball-room, fiddling as lively as ever." This came to Shaw’s ears, and he said that he hoped to prove himself worthy of the old brother’s attention and care; he conducted himself toward him as a son in the gospel, and it cheered the old man’s heart to find that the seed he had sown was not in vain.
He now felt more painfully than ever his lack of education, and at once set about to remedy that defect. In consequence of being compelled to labor constantly to supply the needs of those who were dependent on him, his progress was slow; still he contrived to gather and retain much useful knowledge. He had an excellent memory, a quick and lively fancy, some readiness of expression; and these all combined had the effect of making him seem better informed than many who had enjoyed far superior advantages, but who could not use as freely as he the stores which they possessed. It must not be inferred from the above that he had attained to any great degree of scholarship. Such was not the case. In every elementary training he was extremely deficient; but he made the best possible use of what he heard and read, and thus laid up a magazine of facts which he was able to turn to a good account in after years. His thirst for knowledge increased with every acquisition; and while he had not the least idea at that time of entering public life, he was unconsciously preparing himself for such a work as that to which he afterward was providentially called. He was a faithful and consistent member of the church all this time, growing stronger every day, and highly esteemed by his fellow-members.
Over two years of such a life as we have described passed away, and we find him working as a farm hand for one of the neighbors, Mr. George R. Finley, for whose daughter Martha he in process of time conceived a high regard. This feeling was mutual, and ripened into something more than esteem; and it was soon the old story, that has been repeated over and over again. They became more than all besides to each other, and they were married on the 11th of January, 1855. He was at this time only a few months over twenty years of age, poor in this world’s goods, but hopeful and buoyant in spirit. With a stout heart and strong hands, he saw no reason why life should not be a success.
Nearly four years of his married life passed, one of which was spent in Missouri, with little to mark it beyond what is common to an industrious, hardworking man. Each day brought its toil, and at the same time the simple home-born joys, which are the dearest heritage of the poor. During these years the young couple were blessed with two children, Georgie Anna, born on the 3d of June, 1856, and Mary Elizabeth, born on the 31st of October, 1858. All this time Knowles was faithful in the discharge of his religious duties; would now and then take some humble part in the sacred services, but gave no special promise of future usefulness beyond that of a humble, godly life. On one occasion, at a grove meeting, he was called on to say something. He rose and said: "Brethren and sisters, I have not very much to say; but I am thankful to the Lord for the mercy he has shown me. When I first joined the church I thought that was all I had to do; but one day Squire Layton said to me: ’Shaw, if you were out of corn, and some kind, good man, would say, "Come to my crib and get all the corn you want, and I will charge you nothing for it," would you take the corn and go away without thanking him?’ I replied, ’No, sir.’ ’Then,’ added he, ’when the Lord gives you the hope of everlasting life, will you not thank him?’ I said, ’Yes.’ And I do thank him from the depths of my heart." As already intimated, he had made some efforts at self-improvement, and not wholly in vain; but his knowledge was fragmentary, and as yet he was almost entirely without that training of the mind which alone deserves the name of education. On the third Lord’s Day of October, 1858, from some cause or other, he was called on to talk to the people who had gathered for worship. He made the attempt with some diffidence and confusion at first; but gradually gaining his self-possession, he made a brief address, marked by such good sense, and delivered with such unaffected earnestness, that his hearers were satisfied that they had before them one possessed of the elements of a successful preacher. As a trial sermon before an assemblage of ministers, it would doubtless have been regarded as greatly lacking in most of the elements of a popular address; but his hearers judged by their hearts, by what they felt, and the decision rendered by nearly all was, that Knowles Shaw would make a preacher. No one was more surprised at the effect of the discourse than the speaker himself. In his deep regard and warm admiration for the men upon whose ministry he had attended with such profit and pleasure, he had not thought it possible that he could ever become such an instrument of good to his fellows as they. The ice, however, was fairly broken; many were convinced that he possessed the elements of great usefulness. Frequent opportunities were afforded for the exercise of his newly-found talent, and each exercise of it served to confirm the first impression he had made.
He was now twenty-four years of age, with less confidence in his natural abilities for public life and usefulness, than most of those who were advising him to that course, and with a far deeper consciousness of his defective, nay, almost utter lack of education. This was one of the great turning points in his life, and what was duty, was pondered over with an intensity not inferior to that which marked the period described in the preceding portion of the chapter, when, during the watches of many a sleepless night, he struggled against Satan and gained a victory. That one in such a lowly condition in life, and so little enlightened in point of learning, should feel so deeply may appear strange; but it must not be forgotten that he was both poet and musician, and though his powers as such had not been developed to any great extent at this time, he had even then the musician’s sensitive nature and the poet’s heart. There was slumbering in his breast at that time a power to move men which no man among the hundreds of thousands among his brethren ever possessed to the same degree—a power possessed by few in this generation—and it was this that made a mental struggle greater with him than with other men. Prayer, and deep, earnest reflection, marked these days. The advice of trusted friends, especially that of Uncle Gabriel, was carefully weighed; and the result was a decision to devote his days to the great work of preaching the gospel of Jesus Christ.