By this time the audience had become intensely interested. Said I, “Mr. Bishop, I want to ask you a few questions by way of gaining information. If I understood you right last night, you said your church was infallible; that it never had erred, and never could err.”
He replied very indignantly, “I said, sir, that the Catholic church never had erred, and never could err.”
“Well, sir,” said I, “it was once right to put Protestants to death for their religion, and of course it is still right.”
He replied, “That is a Protestant falsehood, sir; the church never put any one to death.”
Said I, “Sir, I can prove what I say by the faithful records of history.”
“Protestant authority--we could not admit such testimony, sir.”
“Well,” said I, “whether you admit it or not, the blood of martyred millions is crying for vengeance, and the day of divine recompense will erelong come.”
After a number of questions from Mr. Q---- and myself of similar import, Mr. Q---- said, “The general opinion is that General Washington and General Jackson died good men and went to heaven. What is your opinion, bishop?”
He replied contemptuously, “Why, sir, we don’t pretend to know whether they are in heaven or not; those are the secret things that belong to God.”
“Stop, bishop,” said I, “you said last night that you held the keys of the kingdom of heaven in your church, and that to you it was given to open and shut the door; and I now demand of you as one of these door-keepers, to tell us whether you have let in the immortal Washington or not.”
In a few moments the call was coming from every part of the house, “Tell us whether you have let Washington into heaven or not.”
The bishop tore his surplice off in a rage, and put out of the house with one or two priests after him--the crowd following him, and calling out, “Come back and answer the question about our beloved Washington.” But he went on, ordered his horse, pronounced a curse on the place, closed his meetings, and left the town. The excitement of the crowd was most intense.
I had now been in my second year of labor for some months, during which I had made some long journeys, and seen some hard service.
I made an arrangement with Mr. M----, a very intelligent gentleman whom I had employed a few months before as a colporteur, to accompany me. The whole tour required us to travel near four hundred miles. More than two thirds of the way the country was wild and romantic, the population sparse and rude. Few thought it safe to go unarmed.