ad conducted "a meetin'," and that fact made John Short a shining light
in Aunt Indiana's eyes. To this young man the good woman went for a
champion of her ideas in the great debate.

But, notwithstanding her theory, she proceeded to instruct him as to
what he should say on the occasion.

"Say to 'em, John, that he who comes to ye with a temperance pledge
insults yer character. It is like askin' ye to promise not to become a
jackass; and what would ye think of a man who would ask ye to sign a
paper like that? or to sign the Ten Commandments? or to promise that
ye'd never lie any _more_? It's one's duty to maintain one's dignity of
character, and, John, I want ye to open yer mouth in defense of the
rights of liberty on the occasion; and do yer duty, and bring down the
Philistine with a pebble-stun, and 'twill be a glorious night for Pigeon
Creek."

The views of Aunt Olive Eastman on preaching without preparation and on
temperance were common at this time in Indiana and Illinois. By not
understanding a special direction of our Lord to his disciples as to
what they should do in times of persecution, many of the pioneer
exhorters used to speak from the text on which their eyes first rested
on opening the Bible. They seemed to think that this mental field needed
no planting or culture--no training like Paul's in the desert of Arabia,
and that the pulpit stood outside of the universal law. The moral
education of the pledge of Father Matthew was just beginning to excite
attention. Strange as it may seem, the thoughts and plans of the Irish
apostle of temperance and founder of the Order of St. Vincent de Paul
seemed to have come to Abraham Lincoln in his early days much as
original inspiration. His first public speech was on this subject. It
was made in Springfield, Illinois, in 1842, and advocated the plan which
Father Matthew was then originating in Ireland, the education of the
public conscience by the moral force of the temperance pledge.

It was a lengthening autumn evening when the debate took place in the
school-house in the timber. The full moon rose like a disk of gold as
the sun sank in clouds of crimson fire, and the light of the day became
a mellowed splendor during half of the night. The corn-fields in the
clearings rose like armies, bearing food on every hand. Flocks of birds
darkened the sunset air, and little animals of the woods ran to and fro
amid the crisp and fallen leaves. The air was vital with the cool