W. Ed. Snyder

Subsequent Debates—The Owen Contest—He Gets his “Treat”—Opponent’s Confession—Dressing “Stone”—A Scared Baptist—Invades the Lutheran Ranks—Measures Steel with Doctor Ingram—Dissertation on Infant Baptism—Opponent’s Early Flight—Concludes the Debate Alone—The Haw Debate.

As the preceding chapter has shown, our subject was not a debater from choice. He was thrust into the debating arena by circumstances. His memorable victory over Doctor Holt placed his name in big letters among the leading debaters of the time, creating demands for his services in this capacity that could not well be resisted. Besides being in constant demand to expound and defend the doctrines for which he stood, by his own, and other denominations of a kindred faith, he figured in some thirteen debating bouts, a detailed account of which would of itself make a good-sized volume. Hence, a few passing references to some of these contests, with some characteristic incidents, is all that will be attempted here.

Shortly after the debate with Doctor Holt, he received an urgent appeal from Rev. James Griffiths of the United Brethren Church at Potomac, Illinois, to come over to his Macedonia and help him. Controversy between the Christian and United Brethren churches of that section was at white heat. The Christian Church, under the leadership of a Rev. Mr. Owen, was pressing the battle to the gates and making things unpleasantly interesting for Rev. Mr. Griffiths, who was not of a controversial turn of mind. He felt, however, that the safety of his cause demanded that his adversaries be met upon their own ground with their own weapons. His presiding elder, Rev. J. W. Nye, joined in the request that Rev. Mr. Newgent go to the rescue.

Accordingly, a debate between Owen and Newgent, covering the usual mooted questions between the two denominations, was arranged. Rev. Mr. Owen was scholarly and serious, but utterly lacking in the humorous element. His dry logic was no match for the fiery eloquence and quick wit of his Irish antagonist. Like the bridegroom at a wedding, he was a rather inconspicuous figure, except that his part was necessary to the carrying out of the program. It was an easy victory for the United Brethren and their allies, resulting in a cessation of hostilities and a reign of peace in that section of Zion.

A more notable contest was that with Dr. W. B. F. Treat, then president of Indiana State University, at Bloomington. Doctor Treat, as his position would indicate, was a man of fine scholarship. He was a minister in the Christian Church, zealous in the defense of its doctrines, and had won many trophies as a debater.

The preliminary arrangements for this debate were made by a couple of ministers, one a representative of the Christian Church, and the other a United Brethren. Newgent and Treat were secured by the two churches as their respective champions.

As the two champions were introduced on the occasion of the debate, the following bit of repartee was indulged in by Newgent, who had been suffering from some slight temporary ailment: “I am sorry you are not in good trim,” said Doctor Treat, “I had hoped to find a man who would be able to put up a good fight.”

“Oh,” said Newgent, “I think I’ll feel better when I get my Treat.”

In his opening remarks, Doctor Treat again indulged in some pleasantry at Newgent’s expense. He referred to his opponent as having been born in Green County and cradled in a sugar trough. Newgent replied that he had missed it four miles as to the place of his birth. The sugar trough part of it, however, he did not deny; but as the trough had served well to cradle the different members of his mother’s small family of nine children, he was quite sure the rude cradle suffered no violence at his hands.

The learned doctor further tried to discount the scholarship of his opponent by referring to a postal card received from him on which there were two words misspelled. To this Newgent also had an answer. “Great speakers,” said he, “are usually deficient in other lines. I now understand why the doctor is short on debating; all his strength has gone into his spelling.”

The usual questions were discussed, six in number, the same as in the great Holt debate. The arguments were listened to by thousands of interested and enthusiastic spectators, among them ministers and dignitaries of various denominations, and persons of prominence in educational, political, and professional circles. As to the result of the contest, Doctor Treat’s own confession, as brought out in the following incident, will suffice:

A debate between Newgent and a Rev. Dr. J. W. Stone, of St. Louis, Missouri, also a minister of prominence in the Christian Church, was scheduled to take place a few weeks later. In the meantime Doctor Stone, anxious to learn all he could concerning his opponent, sought an interview with Doctor Treat. He met him at a church dedication at which Treat was officiating. The two men, with others, were entertained for dinner at the same home after the morning service. At an opportune time, Doctor Stone introduced the subject in which he was especially interested, and the following conversation between the two men took place, being overheard and reported to Newgent by a gentleman who leaned toward his side of the question:

“Are you acquainted with a United Brethren preacher in Indiana of the name of Newgent?” Doctor Stone inquired.

“I am,” was President Treat’s answer.

“Did you not debate with him some time ago?”

“I did.”

“Is he a scholar?”

“I do not know.”

“Is he logical?”

“I cannot tell. He claimed that he went to school only a few months.”

“How long did you debate with him?”

“Six days.”

“What?” said Doctor Stone in astonishment, “You debated with him six days, and could not tell whether or not he is educated?”

“Well,” continued the university president, in a meditative mood, “I will say that he is—forceful.”

Doctor Stone looked blank for a moment, and then ventured with a smile, “May be he whipped you?”

“I don’t know,” was the guarded answer, “but I am inclined to believe that my people thought he did.” Observing that Stone was intensely interested, Treat inquired:

“Are you thinking of debating with him?”

Stone answered in the affirmative.

“Can’t you get out of it in some honorable way?”

Stone replied that he was not wanting “out of it.”

“But you may want out of it,” was Treat’s not very assuring reply.

“Why, is he not fair in debate? Is he not a gentleman?”

“Yes,” answered Treat, “so much so that all your people who know him love to be with him and hear him talk.” And the conversation drifted into other channels. But Doctor Stone, being from Missouri, waited to be shown. And the debate was held according to schedule.

About this time Doctor Stone was enjoying no small degree of notoriety. He had debated with a Methodist minister in southern Illinois, and so completely mastered him that he acknowledged his defeat in sack cloth and ashes, and joined the Christian Church. Stone was taking advantage of his newly-acquired popularity in waging a relentless war against the “sects,” as he termed them, when some of the Pedo-Baptists secured Newgent to meet him in debate. And the challenge was brought to the great, self-important Doctor Stone.

“Newgent!” said this supposed Goliath with a contemptuous sneer. “He can’t debate. He’s an Irish peddler who used to sell table-cloths in my father’s neighborhood.” The committee informed him that they were willing to risk their case with the Irish peddler. However, Stone’s visit to Doctor Treat to get information concerning the Irishman would indicate that his contempt was more feigned than real.

The debate was held in a small town in southern Illinois, where the doctor had been making havoc of the “sects.” The table-cloth story became current, and much speculation was indulged in concerning the supposed vender of household commodities. His coming to the village was awaited with intense interest. When the train on which he was scheduled to arrive pulled in at the station, a curious and enthusiastic crowd was waiting to get a view of the man who dared to dispute the wisdom of Doctor Stone. As he stepped from the car, a gentleman who knew him said, pointing him out, “There’s the table-cloth peddler.”

A hearty salute was given by the crowd. Newgent, having been apprised of the story, was equal to the occasion. As soon as the hubbub ceased, he addressed the crowd, turning the table-cloth story against his opponent in the following speech:

“Gentlemen, if you have come here to buy table-cloths, you will be disappointed. I have changed my occupation. I have been informed that there is some fine stone in southern Illinois, so I have come down here to set up my shop and spend a few days dressing Stone.”

The “Stone dressing” joke superseded the table-cloth story and became a catch phrase throughout the debate.

It is likely that Stone often called to mind the friendly advice of Doctor Treat, and regretted that he did not take it. He could cope neither with the argument, the quick wit, nor the physical endurance of his opponent. His voice failed completely, and the last two addresses of Newgent were unanswered. The Stone-dressing business proved eminently successful.

An amusing incident occurred in connection with a debate in Kentucky with a Doctor Fairchilds, an eminent Baptist minister. A story came to the ears of Doctor Fairchilds after he came on the ground, to the effect that Newgent was a man of extraordinary scholarship, that he was master of some thirteen languages, etc. The doctor was visibly disconcerted by the story, and after hearing Newgent’s first address, was fully persuaded that it was true, especially the part relating to the thirteen languages. He was quite nervous, and utterly broke down about the middle of the program, leaving the supposed master of thirteen languages easily master of the situation.

While on his official rounds as superintendent of the Tennessee Mission Conference, he once chanced to invade a Lutheran community, which set in motion a train of influences that terminated in a debate with a representative of that body. This was about eight miles from Greenville. He was visiting a United Brethren family that had moved into the community, and in company with his host, called at the district school, and made a talk to the pupils. Through the influence of his host, the school house was secured for a preaching service that evening. Other influences then began to be felt, and the meeting was continued indefinitely, resulting in a sweeping revival, the organization of a United Brethren church, and the building and dedication of a church-house within two months from the close of the revival.

This occasioned great concern among the Lutherans who lost quite heavily as a result of the United Brethren invasion. To regain their lost ground, they challenged Rev. Mr. Newgent to debate certain doctrinal questions with a representative of their church. Newgent was then in his element, in the debate, and answered that he would be ready at any time to accommodate them.

The Lutheran champion was Dr. J. C. Miller, president of one of their church schools. The much-mooted question as to what body constituted the true church was the first taken up, Doctor Miller posing as the representative of a church whose doctrines and usages are identical with those taught and exemplified in the New Testament.

This placed upon Miller the Herculean task of defending the various tenets and practices peculiar to his church. Among other specimens of Lutheran creed, Newgent read the following: “The infant’s heart is corrupt, and it cannot be saved unless baptized by a Lutheran minister with heavenly, gracious water.” When asked if his church taught that, Doctor Miller admitted that it did.

Newgent showed this bit of dogma up in a bad light by the use of an object lesson. Borrowing a baby from a mother in the audience, he held it up before the crowd, stating that the “little rascal’s” heart is corrupt and its only chance for salvation was by being baptized according to the Lutheran formula. “Now,” he continued, “I want this brother to demonstrate to this audience how a baby must be saved. I want him to change this baby’s heart from a state of corruption to a state of purity. I want to see how a baby is saved, for, according to his theology, I have three babies in hell.”

The brother winced under this outburst of sarcasm. He refused to baptize the child, which, had he done so under the circumstances, would scarcely have made his doctrine appear less obnoxious. Other peculiar Lutheran tenets appeared to the same disadvantage under similar treatment, and the church’s hope of gaining its lost ground completely vanished. The debate popularized the United Brethren Church, giving it a strong hold in the community. Flag Branch, a flourishing rural church, stands as a monument to Rev. Mr. Newgent’s labors in that section.

Another contest worthy of special note was with a Baptist minister at Blue Springs, Tennessee, in 1882. The mode of baptism was a live question throughout that region. The battle line was drawn by the Baptists and Pedo-Baptists. They finally agreed to have the question discussed in a public debate, each side to furnish its champion. Three churches were represented on the immersion side, and seven on the other. The immersionists secured as their representative, Doctor Ingram, a prominent Baptist divine of Virginia. Newgent was selected by the anti-immersionists. The debate was to cover six propositions and to continue six days, one subject being slated for each day.

The Baptists were very desirous of including infant baptism in the list of subjects to be discussed. This was a question that Newgent had never debated, and in which he had very little interest. But to accommodate the Baptists, he consented to defend the practice of infant baptism. His opponent proposed the question, stating it as follows: “Resolved, That infants are fit subjects for baptism.” Newgent consented to affirm it.

It was slated for the second day. In his opening remarks, Newgent said: “Mr. President, this is a peculiar question; but my brother wrote it and insisted that I affirm it. It is peculiar from the fact that I am not to prove that the child needs baptism, or that there is any command for infant baptism, or that there ever was an infant baptized. I am simply asked to prove that a child is a fit subject for baptism.”

At these remarks a storm of protest arose from the immersionists. They expected him to defend the vast array of teaching that the various Pedo-Baptist bodies had put forward on the subject.

“Keep cool,” he said to the immersionist part of the crowd as they were clamoring for a hearing and creating no little confusion. “Doctor Ingram and I signed these papers, and we agreed to be governed by the board of moderators. This question simply deals with the child’s fitness for baptism. I appeal to the moderators.” The moderators sustained his position.

He then asked his opponent whether or not the Baptist Church would baptize a subject until he was converted and became as a little child. His opponent stated that it would not. This gave him a splendid foundation for his address, and, at the same time, removed the last foundation stone from under his opponent, so far as infant baptism was concerned. He made an earnest and eloquent address, showing that the child is a type of the heavenly citizen, and as such possesses special fitness for all the sacraments of God’s house.

While he was talking, his attention was called to Doctor Ingram. The doctor, grip in hand, was making rapid strides toward the railroad station. His moderator and some friends were accompanying him, trying to persuade him to remain. But he could endure it no longer.

The doctor’s retreat caused a great sensation, relished immensely by the Pedo-Baptists, but a bitter dose to the immersionists. There were yet four days of the program remaining. Newgent’s side demanded, as they were paying him for his work, that he remain and carry out his part of the program. This he did, but as the debate had only one end to it during those four days, it spoiled the excitement, though it served well the purpose of those who had employed him.

Among his later debates was one held in 1898 at Mechanicsville, Indiana. Dr. J. W. Haw, of the Christian Church, was his opponent on this occasion. Doctor Haw had been holding revival meetings in that part of Indiana, and being dogmatic in style and controversially inclined, was unsparing in his denunciations of other denominations. His aggressions and criticisms were disturbing the equilibrium of some of the brethren whose churches were being used as a target by this ecclesiastical Nimrod. They wrote to Newgent, then in Tennessee, urging him to champion their side against Doctor Haw in debate, offering him fifty dollars per day and expenses for his time. He consented on condition that the propositions were fair and that the reverend gentleman in question was a representative man in his church.

He was referred to a two-column article in a current number of the Christian Standard relating to Doctor Haw. The article was extravagant in the use of adjectives describing the doctor’s ability and achievements, stating that he was the leading debater in the Christian Church, having had more such battles than any other man in it at that time. This was quite satisfactory to Newgent, as at that period he did not care to waste any shot or shell on small game.

In this, as in all other such contests, Newgent abundantly sustained his position and satisfied the expectations of his supporters. His experience, self-control, complete mastery of the subjects in hand, humor, and physical endurance made him an antagonist that even the greatest debater in a debating church could illy cope with. The general verdict of even Doctor Haw’s own sympathizers was that it was decidedly a one-sided affair.